Denise Hildreth

I thought my first post after my wedding would be different than this one. However, when I think about it with my heart instead of my mind it all seems as yet another sweet gift from my Father. Today is a landmark day. I had to be out of my house by today. In the last eighteen years this will be my tenth move. The house I say goodbye to today is the longest I have lived anywhere. And for the last three years has been a haven for a wounded and hurting soul. I had a beautiful path where I prayed. An office that held my most prized possessions, my keepsakes, my photos of family and friends, books, and my grandaddy’s Bible. But it is all now safely placed in my new home where I will make new memories with my family and just made a pack with my husband (love saying that) that we won’t move again unless it is our dream home. (He has moved as much as me…)

But leaving that house holds no grief for me, because once the shelves were empty, the boxes packed, the accessories removed, it was just a shell. A pretty shell. But a shell no less.

The next loss is far greater. Today I will be laying my sweet Maggie to rest. She is my baby. She is fifteen and a hal, born on Christmas Eve, and was my first married Valentine’s gift. Next to this past Valentine’s she is the best gift I have ever received. She has walked through everything with me. Every heartbreak, every success, every moment of pain, she has been there. She has been there. Letting me cry in her fur and then when I was done she made it clear she wanted me to let her go.

She has never been a lover, but she has always been my girl. When she lost her hearing it took me months to notice because she had always been so ornery she rarely came when I called. She could chase a tennis ball longer than you could throw it. Would jump high enough to pull her rope from a six foot tall man’s back pocket and would let you know what she wanted when she wanted it. Otherwise stay out of her way.

Maggie and Sophie - Halloween 07 -their Hawaiin outfits from Auntie Valencia

As she aged she became an even onerier old coot. The first time Philly kept her for me he said, “Maggie’s like an old woman who will tell you what to do.” But she so loved her mama. And her mama has so loved her. And today I will tell her goodbye.

Yet in the middle of the pain and goodbyes I still see God’s sweet hand. About two months after I met Philly Maggie began to decline rapidly. And right after he proposed her decline was dramatic. My brother said, “She knew now you would be taken care of and didn’t need her the way you have anymore.” I believe that may be true, though I still ache not to think she will be around.

My mom and I both prayed that nothing would happen to her until God brought someone into my life. And once again, my Father in His detailed love has been far too kind and gracious to me. But I will take it.

Our Christmas Picture 08

The other interesting thought to me is that these are the two final pieces of connection with my past. Both my house and Maggie were tied to the man I once loved and knew. And in one day the final chords will be severed.

I will never cease to be amazed at all of the unsearchable ways of God, but I am grateful for how He is willing to love me so sweetly. Both in His giving and in His taking…There is truly a season for everything.

I should be in bed. It’s late. I’m getting up early to go to boot camp and then I’m heading to McDonald’s for my Saturday morning Coca-cola, right before I get my makeup and hair done to meet the man that I will spend the rest of my life with at the end of the altar. Mom and dad are already asleep in the other room. My nephew Jake is in my other guest bedroom. And one of my closest friends Lawana is in my bed. But something significant is happening tomorrow. And because of that it will change something that has been one of the most beautiful gifts I’ve known for the last, almost three years.

I have had an unobstructed view of my Father during this season of singleness. He has loved me in ways I didn’t know was possible. It’s been a detailed kind of love. In those early days of grieving after my divorce he and I would talk at all hours of the night when I couldn’t sleep. I’d just lay there in what often felt like  an empty bed and pour my soul out to him. He loved me in my details when I needed distractions and for months on end he sent my friends to come spend weekends with me to be tangible hands in a real and often gut wrenching place of pain. He loved me when he told me I didn’t have to go looking for a man, that he would bring His to me. He loved me when He asked me to go on a clothes fast for a year and then allowed me to watch as friends bought me clothes and gave me clothes. No one had ever given me clothes.  He loved me when he let me stay in my beautiful home for three years and then allowed it to sell right before I was about to step into a new journey of life and gave me the ability to bring complete and final closure to an old way of life. He loved me by letting me minister and giving me stories to tell and fulfilling a heart full of desire with the privilege of lavishing it on Him.

And then He told me that He wanted to walk me down the aisle tomorrow because He had fathered my heart during this season. So, He will. Tomorrow it will be just He and I walking down the aisle to “Great is they Faithfulness” and He will give me away. He will entrust me to the man He has chosen for me.

I’ll miss what I’ve known this season. I know when life changes everything changes. If I could bottle what I’ve known over these last three years I would give it to every person I knew. I would say, “There is no amount of money that could ever give you what a love like this can give you, it will heal you, restore you, love you, cry with you, laugh with you and make you fully alive.”

I move into this new season with beautiful expectation and I close this season with extreme gratitude that my Father would allow me a small glimpse into His lavish love. He has lavished me…wooed me…and captured me. And I will never be the same…

In five days my life will officially change. After spending forty years in a pretty quiet environment I’ll go to a dinner table set for seven. I have experienced every emotion imaginable over the last nine months, unexplainable joy, fear, excitement, anxiousness. Emotions I’m sure anyone would feel in such a drastic turn of life.

Right after my divorce it seemed that everything in my life changed at once, my marriage was gone, I changed churches, I walked away from my publishing house and it felt like basket turnover. But there was this knowing that God was leading and walking with me.

This season feels very similar. There are some beautiful things I’m gaining, a man who loves me deeply, five precious children, but things I’m losing, my home, changing churches again and leaving an environment that has been a balm to my heart.

This weekend we took our first road trip….oh my...It was a learning experience for all of us. And I thinking there was one brief moment that I thought about jumping out the door and running up the street waving my hands screaming. But there was a lot of laughter. A lot of hugs. A lot of “I love you’s.

When we finally got home we all needed some exercise for our legs so we headed out for a bike ride. The youngest who is seven still doesn’t feel secure enough to ride with the older ones so she asked me if me and her daddy would go out with her after we were through with the older ones and walk beside her while she road. So, after we got through with the older ones we went and got her.
Her daddy raised her seat because she had grown so much from the year before and we got her out in the road in the neighborhood and he held onto the back until she was ready to let go, but she said, “Daddy run beside me.”

“I will baby.”

And off he ran beside her bicycle. And that was when I heard my daddy. “I’ll be running right beside you.” And that was when I think I exhaled for the first time in a couple of days.

There are some things we experience in life that will change our lives forever. They are big. They are HUGE! And they have every emotion attached to them you can imagine. But if you know it is a place God has called you too, then just hear him say, “I”ll be running right beside you.” He is you know. And there are times he’s holding onto the back of you, times he will run next to you and times that he’ll stand there smiling simply enjoying the smile on your face as you face your fears and enjoy the pleasure of the journey.

January of 08 I was coming home from Atlanta and was singing the song Moving Forward, by the Praise and Worship Team from Free Chapel in Gainesville, Georgia.

That was the day the Lord beautifully removed from me the heavy grief that I had been under since my divorce the previous summer.

Now, three years later, about to embark on a new journey with a wonderful man and his five beautiful children I found myself singing that song again. Divorce is a painful journey. And it doesn’t always have neat and tidy ends. Sometimes it is frayed and unkept. As the final pieces of an old life are being finished with the sale of my home after three years of being on the market and the final severing of a life I once knew I found myself having moments of grief. But driving to church yesterday morning I began to sing the song that had healed my soul so beautifully two years earlier. And I am…I’m moving forward.

I prayed diligently that God would just bring one man into my life. I told him I didn’t need free dinners or unnecessary drama. I just needed his man. He assured me he would. And this past summer He got him to me. He came with five children, not part of my picture at all, but thankfully I threw that picture away a year earlier. And in throwing it away I didn’t miss the man God had for me. And on April 10th we will begin a new life together.

It is funny…as a writer people often ask me what my favorite book is. And I always tell them, “they are like children, so you can’t choose.” I have finished one book of my life. The forty year book. Many of those years felt a lot like wandering in the wilderness if I’m being honest. And I am moving forward into the “promised land” book. When you finish a book you always wonder if you will ever have anything else to write. I’m so grateful to say God has already given me a glimpse of this new story that He is writing…

I don’t believe in fairytales. I’ve lived too long and been through too much to have an unrealistic view of where I’m headed. What I do have is confidence in a sweet Father who has given me a second chance at living…

There might be a story that God is calling to a close in your life. Let it go…all stories must eventually end. And trust, that He is about to write one that is going to amaze you…but you can move forward if you’re still holding onto the past.

I have a picture of my future…and it is full…and alive…and beautiful. I believe yours is too…

One of my favorite stories in all of the Bible is King Jehoshaphat story in 2 Chronicles twenty. He was facing this huge army.  I mean they had surrounded him on every side. But he decided to have an “unorthodox” war. He decided that this battle he would first pray. Then he called a fast. After doing these two things the Lord spoke very clearly to him.

“This is what the Lord says to you: ‘Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God’s…You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will give you, O Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out to face them tomorrow, and the Lord will be with you.”

When the day to face the armies came Jehoshaphat and his men decided to do something else unorthodox. They sent out men to sing praise to God in front of the army! Yeah, you heard it right. Plain crazy. Armies all around them and they send out a quartet! But as the people were singing the armies that were coming against Jehoshaphat pretty much self-imploded. They literally turned against each other and killed each other and Jehoshaphat and his army never lifted a finger. God did fight the battle.

Facing a battle today? Have someone or something coming up against you? Chosen the plan of attack yet? Decided you would fight it with your bitterness? Your anger? Your accusations? Your self-defense? How has that worked for you?

Could it be that there is a battle one in prayer, fasting and praise? I have to believe there is. I have to believe that if is worked for Jehoshaphat, it can work for us. I have to believe that in our silence, in our simply taking the position of not being afraid, of standing still and letting God fight our battles that there are victories that will be won.

So many times when we have been hurt, wronged, attacked our first response is to defend ourselves. But I have learned there is much healing in a quite repose. There have been times in life that my flesh wanted to scream its justification, its self-defense our of my own hurt or anger. But the times that I have done so have left me empty and shallow. But when I settle my soul, quiet my heart and trust that my Father will protect me, there is such a place of strength in that moment.

What do our accusations really accomplish? What does it really say about us when the only things spewing from us are venomous and vile? I think it reveals our heart. A heart in desperate need of its own healing. In those moments when we think we are declaring someone else’s extreme unhealthiness we are really clearly displaying our own.

God is more than capable to defend, protect, defeat and determine a new and better future for our lives if we’re willing to even give our hurts, pains and battles to him. It ain’t always easy…to be certain. But it is always beneficial. Because God can’t fight a battle that we’re not willing to release. He knows where you are. He knows what you need. And he knows the armies against you. Pray…dare to fast…and dare to praise and take your position while God fights your battle. Others will be blessed by your posture. And your enemies will self-implode…

The other week I wrote about my Sophie and how she begs to get up on the sofa with me. She loves it up there. Well, just a few days after that she decided to take a tour of the neighborhood without telling me. I mean she has gone to the neighbor’s yard on more than one occasion, but she always comes back as soon as I call her. I scold her and she does it yet again. But Tuesday a week ago I called and there was no Sophie. I walked up the alley in the freezing cold and no Sophie. I walked down the other end of the alley and still no Sophie. By now my pulse had quickened and my neighbor who lives directly behind me in the alley asked me what was up. By now I’m doing the ugly cry and headed to get my car.

She was headed to the bus stop to walk her little girl home and graciously put the word out that Sophie was missing. I climbed in my car and began riding through the neighborhood calling her name, crying as I’m driving. I finally pulled up to where the bus had just let off the kids and another neighbor and friend was walking her son home and she said they would get in their car as soon as they got  home and drive around too. They had just had to put their dog down the week before so their own wounds were very fresh.

So the search was on. Neighbor’s were in cars, walking back and forth down the alley and Sophie’s name was being called out all over. I finally parked and got back out on foot and that was when my friend and her little boy pulled up with Sophie in the car. She had taken a stroll all the way down the alley, across one of our main streets and been found by one of my neighbor’s sons and been reported to the clubhouse. So, they went and picked her up. The little toot!

I was so happy to see her that I didn’t even spank her this time. Usually if she goes to the neighbor’s and then comes back when I call her I swat her furry butt. (Not sure why because it sure didn’t prevent her from this excursion.) But this time I couldn’t spank her. In fact, I let her sleep with me. I was so glad to have the little ornery thing home that I let her sleep with me. I know, great parent I’ll make huh?

But I can’t help but remember that that is how my Father is. There are moments when I run off to my own whims and wishes and when he calls me and I come back he swats my butt .There are other times I can get lost farther, wooed in deeper, and before I know it even I’ve lost my way home. But he comes looking for me. And he calls out to me. And he will sometimes even send people into my path to speak to me. And when I turn my heart to him he grabs me and kisses me and holds me and puts me right at his feet. There is no brush off. There is no lecture. Sure there are consequences to my action. (Sophie was afraid to even go in the yard and pee for three days. Apparantly she too knew she was lost.) But even those can provide a hedge of protection for her future.

Often times we’re so afraid of the wrath of God that we think will await us if we turn our heart towards home, that we miss the fact that the love of God is longing for our heart to turn toward home. Sophie was so glad to see her mama. And her mama….well, her mama was so glad to see her. And I held her and kissed her and loved her and that is what our heavenly Father is longing to do with us. Don’t let your own shame cause you to miss how desperately He loves you. Because to hold onto your own shame and not receive His love is to say His cross wasn’t enough. And His cross was, is and always will be enough…

Sophie wants up on the sofa. She sits at my feet staring at me desperate for me to invite her to come hang out with me. Because she knows she’s not allowed up on the sofa unless she’s invited. Thus it begs the question how she can so quickly forget that she’s not supposed to poop in the house, eat the moss from the plant by the fireplace, or eat Maggie’s food, but I digress.

What captured me today though was when I let her up here she jumped clear across my study books and around the pillow to get over to me to give me some “stinky” Sophie love. Poor thing is like the little guy from Charlie Brown who lives with a perpetual dirt cloud around him. But it was her persistence that got me. She had already paced at my feet until I would recognize her. Then she sat and stared at me until I invited her up here and then she leaped over my books to get to me.

I’ve been that desperate before. Honestly, find that life keeps me in a perpetual place of persistent need of my Father. I demand him to recognize me, notice me, invite me, then love me. And do you know what I’ve found, he is more than desiring of that too. In fact, he has a thing for persistents, persistent widows, persistent friends, persistent prayers…kind of gravitates to it actually.

What I’ve noticed though in my own life is how quick I am to give up. When the answer doesn’t come quickly I get discouraged, move on, convinced he doesn’t love me enough to answer that anyway. Instead of persistently asking and trusting in the middle of my seeming lack of answers. Because I’ve discovered that often in my seasons of persistence that he is usually doing a much bigger work in me than what I am actually praying for. The “process” of my persisticence is producing something.

Do you remember the story of the friends who lowered their paralyzed friend through the roof. Do you know why they went to the roof? Because they weren’t going to be kept out. The door was blocked, the windows were blocked, the roof was grassed and mudded over, but none of it mattered, they were getting their friend to this healer. Do you know what moved Jesus’ heart for this man? The faith of his friends. The persistent faith of his friends.

Persistent faith moves God’s heart and it changes ours in the process. I have to believe that what He is most after is the posture of our heart during the season of our delayed request. Delays are never about God, his timing is always perfect. Delays are always about us and how persistent we are willing to be with our faith and our heart. Will we trust him in the middle of the delay? Because the reward is always the same…more time with him on the sofa…

Ever watched a nursing baby go after it’s mother? The flailing…the kicking…the grabbing…the desperation. I’ve seen mother’s before still breast feeding when the child could walk over and pull her shirt up itself…but that is for another day and another blog. Today I’m thinking about the baby place.

But there is another place. There is that weaned child place. The place of rest and peace. Where it can sit right beside it’s mother and never have to react in desperation for what it’s mother has. Because it knows that it will have whatever it needs. I’m been sitting in the passage in Psalms for over a week now. Psalms 131:2 ” But I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me.”

Not always easy is it? Sometimes we’re far more like the flailing child. Desperate. Panicked. Searching. Scared. Life is uncertain. Jobs are scarce. Money is tight. Marriage is hanging by a thread. Children are wreaking havoc on your nerves. Depression tightens like a noose and we flail. We react in panic. As if we will get more if we do. As if the answers will come quicker or sound different.

Yet there is a place of rest for the soul…a quiet confidence in our sustenance provider that removes the need for flailing. That tells us we can rest in the fact that He will supply all of our needs. Not one thing that we have need of will He not supply. Whether it is direction, provision, or simply peace in the fact that things are still unanswered. And in the middle of it all can be an inexpressible joy. Children know joy. It is innate in a child to enjoy. Life and age are what damper the delight. But should it. Should everything that we experienced as children still be available? I would think it would have to be or Christ wouldn’t have said, “Unless you come to me as little children.”

There is something to be learned from a child. Watch one this week. If you don’t have one, borrow one. But may we take a lesson at the rested head on the chest, the delightful cackles and the peaceful sleep. And may our soul ask, “Lord…teach me once again what it is to lay my head on your chest and simply rest. Knowing that you have everything that I need…” You may be surprised at what you discover.

How often do you go out to eat?
A couple times a week- I like my own cooking…actually. I mean, I do cook fried chicken y’all.

How often do you tell someone you love them (friend or family)?
Anytime I’m with them.

How often do you curse in traffic?
I’m a Christian I don’t cuss:) No comment from anyone!

How often do you need the ATM?
I love that little magic cash thingy! What? That’s my money coming out of there!

How often do you wish for something?
Every day…

How often do you laugh so hard it hurts?
As often as possible…

How often do you cry?
When I’m not laughing. I’m a girl – give me a break…

How often do you say no so you can watch tv?
I have a DVR…

How often do close facebook to avoid someone on chat?
I don’t chat.

How often do you grocery shop?
On an as needed basis.

How often are you late for something?
I’m rarely late. But that could explain the three speeding tickets I got last year. But I wasn’t late!

How often do you miss someone?
I miss my mama all the time.

How often do you do something on a whim?
Part of my new journey is learning how to be whimmish! Getting much better at it. One of my whims gave me the idea for my new fiction book. So, I’ve found they can be a good thing.

How often do you change the radio stations?
As much as needed to find the song I like.

How often do you upgrade anything?
I’m not a real upgrader because I’m pretty frugal. But, I have upgraded my iPHone now everytime a new one has come out. My last iPhone I sold to our bus driver in Israel. Should I be saying that on here?

How often do you spend time alone?

Not as much as I used to…