i came here with a very, very different purpose in writing... haha but God wouldn't allow that. i'll still be honest. i'm learning the art of being able to be honest and not paste on the "everything's perfect smile" but still be content in my God's plan and love.

so being honest: i am sick. not deathly but enough to keep my down and that makes me feel stir crazy. moreover, it makes me miss ben like there's no tomorrow. it makes the 7,000 miles between us feel like 700,000. i just want him to be around so that way i can fully rest. i'm never at as much peace anywhere else as when i'm with him. then not only do i miss him because i'm sick and i just want him around, but his today my tomorrow is our one year anniversary of being engaged... never intended on being able to mark an engagement anniversary but... we have. and he's not around for it. not only is he not around for it but he'll probably be at a coworkers birthday party that happens to fall on the same day... if he was home he'd be with me. i'm so weary of this stage. of feeling like i have to fight for first place in his life.

so i came to this place to vent my hurt and tiredness of this time in my life but before i did i read my two closest friends latest writings. and it reminded me of how much reason i have to rejoice... honestly even if i can't think of a reason because my emotions have clouded my mind. but i know it exists. it exists because He exists. a most precious woman once told me, "you can always find your sense of home. it doesn't depend on where you are or if you're with Ben. you'll have Jesus, so you can be home anywhere." i thought i'd not have to implement this until i move over to japan or someplace new. but more and more as this place does not feel like my home as my heart intertwines itself with my future husband i see now i must start now. Jesus first becomes ever more real to me. As much as i long to be with the man God has given to me (well soon) I must first and foremost bind my heart to my heavenly Savior. How beautifully agonizing the christian walk is. it is not for the faint of heart.

My flesh and my heart may fail, But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:26

Do I really need a healer?

I look at myself and realize, I am hurt and bleeding, in need of healing. And I think, what did I do wrong Lord?... wait a minute. Something doesn’t seem right with that question. I realize that is my natural reaction to seeing my need for a healer, which I’ve needed o so much lately. But there is something terribly wrong with that question. It means I expect that I should never be hurt. That if I experience pain I have done something wrong and I have to be punished. Any maybe I did do something wrong, but my pain is not the result of a vindictive God’s sadistic pleasure being carried out on me. God forgive me for even coming close to thinking that way.

I live in a world of sin; from the moment I drew breath I should have expected to be hurt and in need of a healer. If I didn’t need healing, I wouldn’t need a healer, I wouldn’t need God. And if I didn’t need God I’d be God. That answer I know.

As I thought about it more I realized: what would a person look like who never had been hurt at all? What would I look like if I never was hurt? A person I don’t want to be! I would be soft and live in a fantasy and never ever ever be able to minister at all, because those who need to be ministered to are… you know it – HURT!

2 Cor. 1:
“3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 5 For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ. 6 But if we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; or if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which is effective in the patient enduring of the same sufferings which we also suffer; 7 and our hope for you is firmly grounded, knowing that as you are sharers of our sufferings, so also you are sharers of our comfort.”

God’s smarter than me and already said it. We are hurt so we can be comforted and then how we learned from our own comforting directly from God, we can pass that along to others. So I need to lay down my pride, which is all it is when I don’t want to be hurt. It’s pride because it’s saying, “God I don’t need you to come in a fix me, I’m fine.” “God, I don’t want to admit I need help.” “God I don’t trust that you can truly carry away all my pain. Can’t you just let me avoid it instead?” “God I don’t want to have to learn any lessons from this pain and I certainly don’t want to share it with others.” “God, I don’t want what you want for me.”
May this never be my response. I know I will have it again and I will have to confess again but I will press toward that higher goal and reach for the UPWARD call of Christ Jesus, MY Lord and SAVIOR.

On Veteran's Day, I fell in love

Aug. 2010, We drove to Tampa, his mom, sister and I to see him off at the MEPS station. I still have the visitor sticker in my bible… I’m never getting rid of that bible. He had left the night before and had gotten there earlier. We found him and then for hours sat without saying much… what was there to say? Him and I did steal a few minutes to speak about our mutual feeling that a lot was about to happen. But bootcamp we knew was to be our test. From day one of our dating we lived in a countdown until the 6 months of “regular” dating we could have would be up and then 3 months of separation would be the making or breaking of us. It was cause for many tearful nights. But that day had finally arrived when the next countdown began. We sat there knowing the storm was brewing and we didn’t know if it would dash our ship onto the rocks or push our boat to shore. But some good things had happened with the advent of his leaving… we had hope. We clung to it. I watched that Benjamin, who in retrospect seems like such a young boy, be sworn in as a defender of this nation and its constitution. We both were so young. We sat again, in more silence. It seemed all we could do was stare straight ahead but squeeze the other’s hand, clinging to that last bit of time before he was taken from me. He finally had to go. And he left with a brave smile on his face.

Sept.-Nov. 2010, Many tear stained letters and some letters that could have been novelettes were sent back and forth. We did our best to share our lives with the other though we were over 300 miles apart. The letters I received showed a different person than the one I started dating. But he was different not in how I feared and had been warned the military can “warp” men. He was honest, and honorable; hardworking and always faithful. He was listening to those perversely blessed DI’s. Honor, Courage, and Commitment was their creed and “Semper Fidelis” (Always Faithful) was their motto. They were shaping the man I had left on hold, the man I might have waiting for me at the end of 3 months to start a life with after that… His letters were filled with stories that made my heart soar with pride in the man he was becoming, never giving up and sharing his faith even in that hell hole. I began to wonder, could it be possible? He will be even better than the man I left in Tampa? Could this possibly be the man I could give my life to forever? More scary confirmations came. Once a Sunday morning sermon convicted and showed me areas of my life that needed work. And what happened, Benjamin’s next letter came and he always included a scripture that had impacted him that week he wrote to me. That week’s scripture… you have no idea how accurately it spoke to my situation. I was not the only one to think it more than uncanny. Then I got my last letter before… I saw him again.

Nov. 10th, We road tripped up to Parris Island. No one had even been as excited to travel somewhere as I was on that trip. Nothing could touch me. I was going to meet the physical representation of the man I had come to know in these amazing love letters. I came to give an answer to the question asked many times in those letters, “will you marry me?” But I had to see, was this man real or only on paper? He told me that very thing when I heard his beautiful voice for the first time in 3 months, the Sunday before we came to see him. “I’m real Wesley. I’m not just that man on paper. All I’ve written to you is true. And I have a few things I need to ask you when I see you…” We arrived the night of the 10th, the Marine Corps Birthday. The next day we would be reunited with him at Family Day. I would see him on…

Nov. 11th. I barely slept and awoke with ease. No matter how little I slept, I was going to meet this mysteriously perfect man who claimed he was not fiction. I got ready, wanting to look perfect. And we left before the sun rose. It was cool, perfect weather. It had a sparkle, if it’s possible for air to have such. We had a 20 minute drive ahead of us. I took in all the sights out the window, eating it all up knowing it got me that much closer to him. We made our way from the car to meet the boys who had gotten there much earlier to see the colors ceremony and get every detail of the new Marines getting ready for their Motivational Run, where we could catch a glimpse of our Marine… our Marine. As we shivered in waiting, we strained out eyes searching for ours in the sea of green sweatshirts and shaven heads. They all looked the same but I knew that was far from true. There was one whose heart beat for me and I would find him. And it began; their cadences rumbled the ground in unison with the drumming of their feet on the pavement. My spirit sailed in the strength of their cries. I felt at home hearing their chanting. It was the cry of warriors, of a warrior… my warrior. And then that form I had not seen in 3 months ran right past all of us. His family jumped for joy and yelled his name. I could only stand in dumbfounded amazement… he exists. He was there. He is real. Then we had to wait for two more hours. But I didn’t mind. I had seen him. And in just two hours I would actually be able to see him face to face, speak with him, hear him, feel him. We were directed to a building. On our way we passed much of their training apparatus, buildings he had been in, lived in these months. I felt I was a in a story book. That day had a magic of its own. I was on cloud nine; not even these words can express how it felt. But it felt too real and wonderful to be true. And I passed those hours basking in the glow of the glorious sun that warmed my face almost as much as my heart was warming me internally. Finally we were moved into to arena where we would see him again and be able to have him at long last. It was a huge stadium seating arena. The masses of people were indescribable. We found our seats and sat tensely. And then the ceremony began. They played clips of the boys in training and we heard heart wrenching songs that moved our now military hearts. As we fought back tears, slowly they entered. And in all the prestige the military, nay the Marines can muster, in came our boys marching in perfect unison. Every movement was as a unit. They were one. As we searched the crowd to now find a uniformed man I could barely contain my emotions, a new sensation for a very stoic girl previously. A voice boomed over the speakers, they were released to their families… to us. Suddenly the sea of heads became a stampede of people bee lining for their Marine. I was stunned. My tears stopped. The world started to slow and my vision became zeroed in on one target: a tall, slender man standing very quietly, his eyes softly searching the crowd but not far enough to see what he was looking for. He looked away after a minute of his failed conquest and I desperately wished I knew what he was thinking now. He was such a somber figure. Is this who I was looking for; this calm and contained person? Humbleness poured from his serene figure. I had to move. The boys were faster than I pushing their way through the crowd. I was too in shock to push. I only quietly and courteously made my way past people. I wanted to will myself to shout, “MOVE!” I looked up through the few people left in my way and saw Peter hug his brother... It must be him. I saw his old smile break across his face as his friend embraced him. His baby brother was just behind him. I had to focus back on getting through this crowd. My heart was screaming, “Please, I miss my Marine too! Let me go.” It’s as if they heard me. Just as miraculous as the Red Sea, the mass of people parted and in my peripheral vision I saw the people I knew. I felt as if all eyes turned to me. But I only saw one face… quiet and older but ever so assuring, gentle and loving. I looked closer… into those beautiful blue eyes. Benjamin. The last thing I remember when I was still on my own two feet was uncontrollably taking one step toward him. The next thing I knew, somehow, I was in his arms. My feet wrapped behind his back and my tears stained his uniform. All I heard was his voice, “Shh, it’s ok. I’m real. It’s ok. I’m here.” This can’t be real can it?! He is real?! I had to step down back into reality, literally, but only for a second. I slowly came to grips with how marvelous my reality was that day as we walked in a crowd. I hung back, partially not wanting to demand his attention and partly still in disbelief. He continually would come back and get me. “There you are, I wanna talk with you” he’d say and take my arm and wrap it around the crook of him bent forearm. We delighted in the privilege of whispering and giggling again as we caught each other up on funny little stories. He squeezed my hand at the lunch table. His hand or eye was never far at any point that day… He was real. This man straight from a dream, from love letters was living and breathing and in love with me… and I knew from the moment I saw his eyes for that first time again… I was in love too. He said on the night he proposed to me almost two months later, “We fell in love through these letter”. And he was right, he stole my heart there. On November 11th I knew I could give it away. On Veteran’s Day one year ago… I fell in love.

Along the Hwang Ho Valley where young men walk and dream,

A flower boat with singing girls came drifting down the stream.

I saw the face of only one come drifting down the stream.

You are beautiful, small and shy.

You are the girl whose eyes met mine

Just as your boat sailed by.

This I know of you, nothing more,

You are the girl whose eyes met mine

Passing the river shore.

You are the girl whose laugh I heard

Silver and soft and bright;

Soft as the fall of lotus leaves

Brushing the air of night.

While your flower boat sailed away,

Gently your eyes looked back on mine,

Clearly you heard me say,'You are the girl I will love some day.'

makes all the difference

And I remember that fight

Two-thirty AM

As everything was slipping right out of our hands

I ran out crying and you followed me out into the street

Braced myself for the "Goodbye"‘cause that’s all I’ve ever known

Then you took me by surprise

You said, "I’ll never leave you alone."

You said, "I remember how we felt sitting by the water

And every time I look at you, it’s like the first time

I fell in love with a careless man’s careful daughter

She is the best thing that’s ever been mine.

Having a man who will hang on no matter what, tell you "just take me hand and I'll do the rest"; that makes all the difference in the world...

I have no cutesy plan or inspired revelation to share right now, just a mish-mash of emotion I want to vomit onto the screen. I feel like a bi-polar personality whose manic and depressive stages come in bursts of seconds. Or they somehow exist simultaneously. I don't even know. I just know my brain is astir and can 't rest until I throw up something on this bleach white screen.

I went through a stage for about a month where I was on a mountaintop. Everything felt right and great. Nothing dimmed my view, even hardships. Now here is the valley. Yet, I have been through so many valleys much darker than this one that this seems only like a road-side ditch. I think that's the reason it doesn't seem so bad. God has prepared my heart for valleys so as a song says "the valley's lookin small when I'm with you/ don't land us til I see a clear view". I know I'm on His back and that's why it's not as dark and deep. He's got tall shoulders. He's walking in the valley with me. And the valley is partially by my own sin... how great and gracious a Father we have who will carry us through the consequences of our own sin.

That was a manic spurt. Sound too clean and neat? Yea, well here comes a bitterly honest depressive wave: the idea was presented recently to me that I don't share enough of my woes. People don't know what's going on in my life. They chided me for it. And perhaps they're right. But one, at the time that was my mountaintop stage. Two, now not at that stage, I don't even know how to begin explaining it in terms anyone can understand unless they have experienced it themselves... I feel a part of me has- well not died, it will come back, gone to sleep? No, too sweet. Yes, it has died. I promised to be honest. Part of me is dead, only I have a promise of it coming to life again. Forgive my cryptic style. I'm so used to not sharing personal information readily. I'm talking about the man I'm promised to. He's gone. And has been gone for too long. It's hard. That statement is an assinine replacement for what I actually feel but again this type of thing can't be explained unless it's experienced. Sadly I am alone in this (in the flesh, I know God can sympathize with all my weaknesses hallelujah Heb. 4:15). Only two people come close to being able to relate, one of them is the other half of me, my love and life, the man I will marry and my heart is already so bound to.

You can't even fathom how agonizing it is. Day in and day out living life apart. I was reminded by a dear friend, which is why I bear them no ill will, that he will now have a part of him that won't ever come back. That made it evident to me that this is a part that I will not have of him. Not that he will keep it from me. Just how could he explain something so foreign to me, so different from where I am right now? This does not mean I bemoan my choice, which people cautioned me about when I first chose to be here. Another friend, bless them, was almost upset at him for wooing me because they knew this day would probably come. I know they only thought of me and my welfare. They saw in me what I think most people see, this apparent weakness of mine. And yes I am weak, too weak to those who know me very well, in mind, body and spirit. Yet, what many don't see and I didn't always either is what Benjamin and I believe God called out in me- a dormant tenacity. I am strong in the midst of all my fraility. I know I am, and it must be only by His strength. I feel Eph. 3:16 lived out daily in me.

Yes, I don't feel whole anymore. Yes, I cry at night sometimes. Yes I feel an ache all too often and a buzzing of his name in my brain that feels it shall bore a whole in my head one day. I feel I am going mad sometimes and on the verge of suffocating when no one can understand and I just have to swallow it and smile, "He's fine. I'm fine. God is good." Still, in the end, I know I am not cracking. This is far from the end. I know our Lord, the only One keeping Benjamin and I together, has great plans for us. Don't fear friends, Ben and I are alright. We are not in any danger of going anywhere in relation to each other in case my honesty has you wandering. I just let you peek behind the curtain to see just how humble and small the wizard of Oz is. She is not all flash and smiles. Only her God makes her so. She truly is fine. Wesley Dara Casey is ok. Not even hanging on by her fingernails ok. The kind of ok where once I finish this blog I will slide down under the covers, and smile at the thought of Benjamin being somewhere out there, knowing he loves me more than any other human does and points me ever and always to Christ. And I will sleep peacefully because the thought of how mighty and loving my God is to have given me the strength to walk this road I know I am called to. It is my commission and I sense with suriety that as 2 Tim. 3:17 says we are equipped with all we need to accomplish every good work planned for us, so too do I feel I have and am being given the specific tools and measures of strength and grace to live out what God has ordained to be my life: the future bride of a distant Marine who waits in hope and faith of who her groom is and when his return shall be, living in faith that their God "is able to guard what [they] have entrusted to Him until that day." 2 Tim. 1:12b

So good night all. I pray even in your valley if it's anything like mine you can still sleep at peace like I have faith I will because you are being carried on the Father's shoulders.

Grieving Grace

I've been battling, fighting thoughts of fear, guilt, inadequacy, like i totally missed my exit ramp on Wesley's Life Highway. I "knew" it wasn't right what I was thinking, "there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:1)". But I wasn't feeling it. Driving to work my brain was working it over and over. I messed up. I've sinned. Made mistakes. How can I fix that? I'm not perfect now...

I was listening to some worship music. Suddenly something in the song on at the time made it click: I'm not perfect now... When have I ever been perfect?? I've sinned. I DO sin. I need grace, constantly! I realized I wonder if God let me mess up like that because my pride is so darn invasive in my heart (sad but true) He had to let me fall just so I could better realize that state of grace that I should claim as His child. Now hear me! I am NOT saying made me sin, James 1:13 "Let no one say when he is tempted, 'I am being tempted by God'; for God cannot be tempted by evil, and He Himself does not tempt anyone." But because of Romans 8:28 which we all know I believe He knew my pathetically weak state and I'm sure with sadness in His heart knew I had to be given some leash to choke on a little.

This probably sounds rather dismal right now doesn't it? But it isn't! Yes, my sin is grievous. I abhor it YET my God is a Redeemer! As Job cried I too join in screaming in fear, shame, doubt, satan's face, "As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last He will take His stand on the earth!" (Job 19:25) HALLELUJAH! I saw, He allowed me to fall so I can better understand my need for grace. I will completely abase myself at the moment and tell you: I am one of the more prideful persons. I can't stand it! I was even so arrogant some time back to think I didn't have a pride problem; "that was a sin I don't struggle with", HA! Let me tell you God has been knocking me off my own pedestal quite a bit - like this morning- but I am so grateful. My pride was so strong I needed to fall a little deeper to see how awful I am so I can better praise Him for His gift of grace.

Once I was warned with my fellow young believers who've also grown up in the church that we were in more danger of pride and falling into sin from the standpoint that we had not fully been mortified over our sin and realized the depth of our depravity like an ex-druggie or party"er" possibly could have. They committed society's and the church's "big" sins. Where we "good little christian kids" had not. Ours were and are the private ones and sadly and erroneously the one's classified as "not that bad". We need to stop doing that! James 2:10 says I'm just the same as the druggie. But that danger is valid and true. I fell and fall into that pit. So God reminded me, "Nope, Wesley, not true. Look you sinned. Yep, you failed. You're not perfect. Shocker! Realize you are in just as much danger of being a dirty, rotten human - HUMAN, and accept that you NEED My grace."

When I let go as accepted this, my heart was nothing but filled with thanksgiving for my God who saved me from the pit. His grace is so beautiful and I don't deserve it. Even after being His child i chose, CHOSE, to spit in His face with not choosing Him, a.k.a. sinning. Yet, He was longing for me to come back. How long suffering and loving is our Father and Lord! I am with Paul completely:

Romans 7:15, 18-25a

For what I am doing, I do not understand; for I am not practicing what I would like to do, but I am doing the very thing I hate. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the doing of good is not. For the good that I want, I do not do, but I practice the very evil that I do not want. But if I am doing the very thing I do not want, I am no longer the one doing it, but sin which dwells in me. I find then the principle that evil is present in me, the one who wants to do good. For I joyfully concur with the law of God in the inner man, but I see a different law in the members of my body, waging war against the law, waging war against the law of my mind, and making me a prisoner of the law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am, who will set me free from this body of death?! Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!

And he continues his thought process in chapter 8 which I already referenced, "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus! For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the laws of sin and death!"

Praise be to God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ! What more can I say? God gives us grieving grace so we can then truly understand grateful grace. "O to Grace how great a debtor/ Daily I'm constrained to be/ Let Thy goodness like a fetter bind my wandering heart to Thee/ Prone to wander Lord I feel it/ Prone to leave the God I love/ Here's my heart Lord take and seal it/ Seal it for Thy courts above"