2011 Recap

Dear Friends and Family,

At the close of every year I like to look back and reflect on lessons learned and revelations discovered about the last 12 months. 2011 turned out to be quite eventful and jam-packed full of new discoveries and experiences. I’m happy to say that I grew both as a Christian and as a person. My loved ones ran alongside me and did their best to help me stay humble and happy. Aside from discovering that it takes about nine months for a bad haircut to grow out, here some other details you might have missed…

We kicked off the New Year with a bowl of dog food and a tragedy. Angelina discovered that dog food doesn’t go with cereal the same way that reality tv doesn’t go with the Disney channel. There are some things that humans just are not supposed to consume. Zach came to the painful awareness that nobody is immune to depression and even his peers have the power to make drastic, tragic choices when life becomes too challenging.

Spring was filled with recurring nightmares, a lesson in forgiveness, and the stark reality that my hemlines were causing heartburn. I discovered that hackers do exist and that online shopping is a big no-no in our house from now on. I learned that anger cannot be treated unless it’s cut out at the root and there is no deed so big that it cannot be forgiven by the grace of God. Oh and here’s a friendly reminder in case you happen to ever get in this situation. When someone asks you to lower your hemline, they’re really not being mean. They’re simply tired of looking at your underwear in church. 

My summer depression was relatively mild this year although I did have long stretches where I couldn’t write anything at all. During this time I learned that contentment is a choice, there are no coincidences, and when the bank says they’re working with you what they really mean is that you should start packing because they’re going to take your house. I celebrated my birthday in a new home (after only a week of searching and packing) and discovered that despite my best efforts, God still won’t fit into any of the pretty boxes I designed for him. He is the master of the impossible and peace is his way of telling me that the problem has already been solved.

Fall paved the way for new friendships, new beginnings, and new awakenings. I celebrated my tenth wedding anniversary without the fluffy white dress but it was a great party anyway. I got beautiful pictures thanks to my talented new friend, Eric Leffler. As a result of his efforts my passion for writing was reawakened. We’re still waiting to hear back from the editors, by the way. Angelina learned where babies come from while I became the first of my friends to reach that milestone. Although I appreciate that I get to be the genius everyone runs to for advice now, I totally get why mom made me wait until I was 13 to tell me the truth about Santa. There is a limit to how much trauma a parent should be allowed to inflict on herself.

My baby sister helped me understand that there is a hero inside all of us and that people are responding to our efforts to do good even if they are not saying a single word. She convinced me to write a book but I unconvinced myself when I looked at the facts. I’m just not ready to take that step yet but the ground work has been laid. I’m surrounded by people who love and support me and I’m continuing to learn about what it takes to be a great writer.

The holiday season was the most memorable I’ve ever had. Our Thanksgiving table was accompanied by two ex-convicts who have done hard time in prison for murder. It was such an honor having them there and hearing about how God had changed them from the inside out. If redemption had a face I’m pretty sure it would look like those two. Listening to Bill talk reminded me of my own first Thanksgiving outside of my own “prison”. Although we have nothing in common, I felt connected to him because I know how it feels to sit among total strangers and feel more love than you know what to do with. I wanted to bottle that moment and keep it with me forever. (Too bad Eric wasn’t there to capture it)

For the first time in ten years we left the snow chains in the car and stayed home for Christmas. I discovered that I rock in the kitchen and that cooking for 12 people is easier than I thought. My turkey is good enough to feed the Pope or even George Clooney. Just don’t ask me to make pumpkin pie. That record is about 50/50 at the moment.

Before we close out another year, here are some of my most recent revelations-

·         When sponsoring a woman working her steps, make sure you’re guarded and prayed up because you will get hurt.

·         Always practice before Sunday morning. Always.

·         Nothing is more haunting than blue lights on a track field and cancer survivors are among the bravest people in the world.

·         Do what you’re good at and do it often. Don’t waste time on stupid stuff that doesn’t matter or won’t help change the world, even in a small way. Life is too short to dwell on past mistakes and failures but it gets really tedious when you’re not living up to your full potential.

·         Never cut your hair off right before summer. Just say no.

Happy New Year and God bless you abundantly in 2012! I love you all!

Just For Today

Luke 1:68-79

Today I will shut down the internet and the cell phone and the tv. I will turn off the music and the thoughts in my head. I will not think about all the work I have to do or have already done. I will not think about me at all. I will worship you because you are worthy. I will lay aside every distraction and every hindrance and focus on you. Sin will not be my master. Temptation will not be my master. I will not be my master. You are God and today I am allowing you that right. You are holy, you are worthy and you are awesome. Today I am allowing you to be all of those things in their entirety. Be the God I have invited into my heart. Be my Lord today and always.

Photo courtesy of Eric James Photography

So Many Books, So Little Time!

Oh, I am so excited! I just got my hands on three great books and I can't wait to get reading! Even better-two out of three were written by friends of mine! I'm surrounded by greatness and I have the autographs to prove it! If you're looking for something new to read, might I suggest any one of these treasures? I happen to know that the writing is as stellar as the authors themselves.

First up is Her Safari, written by my friend, Lisa Mikitarian. Lisa has crafted a collection of short stories so inspiring and amusing that it's hard to put this book down. Her Safari chronicles the lives of several different women in various stages of life. Written with humor and common sense, this is a wonderful book to read while you're in the waiting room at the doctor's office. By the time your name is called you'll be smiling and willing to forgive the dingaling who made you wait.

Next is The Mountains Bow Down by Sibella Giorello. I was inspired to read this book after checking out my friend, Tim George's review on his blog. It's the story of FBI agent Raleigh Harmon working to solve a murder aboard a cruise ship headed to Alaska. Family drama and even a bit of romance add to the mix, making this one worth checking out. Read it and let me know what you think!


Lastly, we have Mind Over Madi, written by my sweet friend, Lynda Schab. This is chick-lit in its purest, most glorious form. Madi is a wife and mother who suspects her husband is cheating. She learns a few things about life, love, and how to be the princess God created her to be. First in a three book series, this debut novel is sure to be a best seller in no time!

If you've read any of these books, make sure you stop by the author's websites and leave them a comment letting them know how much you loved them. Or you can leave a comment here and I'll be happy to pass on the message. Happy reading!

Five Minute Challenge

At the suggestion of Allison over at Beautiful in Him, I’m taking her challenge. For five minutes I’m going to take the topic “unexpected” and write unedited (I know you’ll appreciate this, Kristina!) and unscripted. Ok, here goes!

Go!

Unexpected

She was sitting by herself on the bleachers watching her daughter cheer. We ambled into easy conversation about how we ended up at this particular spot on this particular day. I moved to town when I was a teenager, by my own choice I might add. I wanted to escape the way of life I had always known. Yes, I often wonder if I made the right choice, but no, I don’t regret it. I’m here and I’m happy. Best of all, I am at peace. I could tell I hit a soft spot. Her eyes welled up and she asked me if we could get together some time. I told her that would be wonderful. “My friends just don’t understand. I can’t really talk to them about this issue because they just don’t get it.” Sister, I do get it because I’ve been there. Call me any time. I never say no to friends. We exchanged phone numbers and somehow I knew in my spirit that God had just done something amazing.  

Stop!

Ok, now it's your turn. Write for five minutes and I dare you not to edit. Link back here and tell others to take the challenge. Leave a comment for the person who linked before you. Have fun!

It's Not Easy Being Green

Instead of God’s still, small voice I wish I could hear Yoda sometimes. “Going the wrong way, you are! Turn back, you must!” I think my life would be much easier simply because the voice is so conspicuous. You can’t disobey Yoda! If you actually have the audacity to ignore his wisdom you run the risk of disappointing him. Can you imagine how deprived the world would be if Miss Piggy told Kermit to get lost? Never cross the green guy! I am convinced that little green guys have all the power. Well, almost all the power.

Several truths about myself have been revealed to me lately. One is that while I may think I don’t say much, quite the opposite is true and it’s time to embrace that fact. I am not the shy, voiceless child I once was. This is especially true if I happen to like you, even a little bit. Whether the words are written or spoken, I have the propensity to become like that annoying leaky faucet. No matter how many times you turn that handle, the drips are going to keep coming until you either fix the thing or find another room to hide in.

Another truth I have come to accept is that my words still have the power to be brutal. I honestly thought after so many years of growing and changing that I would be past this point in my life. Yet here I am again, apologizing for wounding another innocent victim. I have sought forgiveness and now it’s in God’s hands. The thing is I wish I could continue to lie to myself. I wish I could make myself believe that I don’t have the power to do such massive damage, that I’m not capable of the kind of carnage I have created. Yet I am once again on my face in repentance. Yes, I did it. I crossed the green guy.

“I’m sorry” is an empty sentiment when real damage has occurred. At some point all of us get sick of hearing it if the words are not backed up with action. While Jesus did say that we need to forgive our neighbor seventy times seven, he also told the woman caught in adultery to go and sin no more. Go and sin no more. Stop doing whatever it is that you’re doing to cause so much damage to yourself and others. Stop. Doing. It.

If my words are weapons, I am laying them down. I am throwing in the white towel and surrendering, offering myself freely to be judged or punished. I deserve death. While my debt has already been paid for by Jesus on the cross, I know I’ve got some unfinished business here. I am ready and I am not afraid. I will accept the consequences for my actions and I will move forward with the grace that God gave me. I will replace the broken washer on my leaky faucet mouth and learn from this. I will be better tomorrow. I promise.

The Book is Coming!

For many years and from many different people I've been hearing the same request. "You should write a book. Your story needs to be told." I heard it twice in the last two weeks alone. So a few days ago I sat down and wrestled with possible concepts. How am I going to make this work? I have so much potential material. It's kind of like looking into a pantry full of food and trying to decide what kind of meal to make. Is it going to be full scale fancy schmancy or more laid back, paper plates and plastic? Is it going to be decadent and robust or light and fluffy like dinner rolls? So much to think about! Then I remembered a poem I wrote a few years back. That poem combined with a prophesy over me from when I was a teenager created the inspiration. So here's the poem that will start it all. I still have much more work to do before I can get started but here's the rough idea. The book is coming!

The Cave


A little girl kneels by herself, alone in a dark cave. Her clothes are worn and tattered and dirt covers her face. Every day she comes here looking for some peace from the storm that rages on outside and oh, how she grieves. Her tiny little body pours out the tears each day and every day her prayers are heard from inside that cave.


Then one day she cries out, “Oh God, if you’re there, please come and take the pain away. Please tell me that you care. I am just so lonely and I need to be loved. Oh, God if you’re listening, will you come? Oh, will you come?”


Then out of the silence of her aching, grieving soul a man appears inside the cave, standing at the door. His clothes are bright and shiny, the purest shade of white. His face is full of kindness, there’s forgiveness in his eyes.


She looks up from the ground where her tears soaked up the earth. She sees the man she prayed for and her heart begins to burst. He enters the darkness and gathers her in his arms, walking toward the sunlight to a place that’s dry and warm. Then suddenly they’re standing in the middle of a field. The sun rests on her shoulders and dries up all her tears.


She looks to the man that rescued her and glances down to find no longer worn and tattered; she wears a sparkling dress of white. He reaches out to touch her and puts his hands upon her face. No longer streaked with dirt and grime, she’s been washed by his grace.


“I heard your cries of grief, my child and when you called for me; my heart was overjoyed at the chance to set you free. I promise from now until forever you’ll never be without a friend. When you call I’ll answer and hold you once again. The loneliness will be no more; my love will make you whole. And when your heart is grieving, I’ll hold you in the storm. You will have pain but don’t be scared. I’m right here all the time. The storms may rage but rest assured joy is not that far behind. Take heart, my child and come to me whenever you need love. I know the plans I have for you. I can heal you with one touch.”


She looks into his eyes that seem to reach into her soul and she walks into his loving arms. She’s not grieving anymore. She cries her tears of joy in his strong, fatherly embrace and whispers in his gentle ear, “Can I touch your face?” He steps away and takes her hand and pulls it to his side. “Someday my child, just wait and see. We’ll be in paradise.” And so they walk down the road that leads to home, she in her white dress and he in his crown of thorns. The journey is a long one and she’ll fall along the way. But never again will she be alone in that dark and dreary cave.

Jekyllina and Hydette

This is a re-post from an old blog. It seems appropriate to share it today because this happens to be where I am right now. If there was a female version of Jekyll and Hyde, I'm pretty sure I would be her.


January 23, 2000
Every drive home is the same. I hold her face in the dirty toilet of unforgiveness and anger. I force her to breathe the stench of rage as it blinds her eyes. She has no choice but to succumb. I can’t recall when it started, surely before I got out on my own. It’s been a routine for as long as I can remember. She tries to free herself from my grip but my hands are strong. She squirms beneath the weight of my depression but only gets pushed harder into the filth. “You hideous creature!” I scream at her. “You don’t have the right to breathe like a real person!” Her tears fall like Niagara Falls into the well and she becomes weak and tired from the powerful force. The harder she tries to fight off the attacks the worse they get. No wonder she’s always tired. She spends her days being the abuser and her nights wrapped up in tears that refuse to go away. I see her there, her little body crushed and broken and I cry my own tears, the haunting lullaby of a soul that fights for attention and loses over and over again. When will I love her? When will she accept my broken pleas for mercy?

June 22, 2009
Still Standing
I am wounded but I'm ok
I've been beaten but I'm not afraid
You may catch me in a moment of weakness
Knocked down for a time or a season
But I'm still here and the gloves are still on

Cause there's still a lot of fight left in me
No, I will not go down so easily
You may have won this round but I'm not backing down
Hang on for the fight of your life
Cause as soon as you turn in for the night
That's when I'll rise

You think those little jabs are wearing me down
Can't wait 'till I give up and hit the ground
One day I'll cave from the weight of your hate
and you'll win

But what you fail to understand about me
Is that I'm trained to live in victory
My strength may wane but I'll come back again
Because I already know how this ends

Your lies, they can't hurt me
Your games are just annoying
Care to re-load for your next attack?
Don't worry, I'll still be here when you get back

Cause there's still a lot of fight left in me
No, I will not go down so easily
You may have won this round but I'm not backing down
Hang on for the fight of your life
Cause as soon as you turn in for the night
That's when I'll rise 

Beautifully Blameless

“Help me, Daddy! I’m slipping and I can’t hold on!” In the stillness and the quiet I hear his soft and gentle voice. “I AM with you. I will not let go.” After several weeks of fighting in the trenches I am battle scarred and weary. I am not strong enough to hold onto my Savior anymore. I am exhausted. In my mind I feel like I have failed the test that was set before me. I made bad choices and I have let down my Father. I am a failure. In the stillness and the quiet I hear his gentle voice. His perception of me is so different from my own.

“My daughter, lift up your head. A great battle has been fought and won. Not only did you resist temptation, you shared my Gospel with one who otherwise would not have received it. Well done! This day I have rolled away your reproach. You are blameless in my sight.”

In my mind’s eye I was only able to see the mistakes and bad judgment calls. In God’s eyes he sees the truth.

“I have removed the load of your shame, tossing it aside like the filthy garment that it is. You are blameless, treasured, and adored. Eat of my produce. All that I have is yours.”

I am starting to understand another great truth about my God. During the times when I feel the most defeated and unworthy, He is the most proud of me. As he sings to me during the quiet hours of dawn, I hear his heartbeat in the darkness. “You are right, you did fail. You failed to hide secrets. You failed to act on impure thoughts and motives. You failed to bring dishonor to me. You failed to make me love you any less than I already do.”

Commit your way to the Lord, Trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass. He shall bring forth your righteousness as the light, and your justice as the noonday. Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him… Psalm 37:5

 Photo courtesy of Eric James Photography

“Everyone will look upon your justice and righteousness as the sun. You will blind them with your radiance.”

As long as we are walking in His Truth, we are beautifully blameless. No matter what.

Her Sister's Hero

She is the most beautiful creature I have ever known. She sparkles from the inside out, lighting up an entire room with her joy. While I miss her terribly I understand that this time away is necessary. She is becoming a fully grown woman, exploring her independence and freedom. I could not be more proud or honored to share my DNA with her. In a fascinating irony, I look up to her as much as she looks up to me.

“…And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces but the Lord was not in the wind…”

For years I have listened to her begging and pleading. “Please write a book. You have a gift and the world needs to hear what you have to say.” Her confidence in my ability is both humbling and frightening. While the world may take little interest in what I have to offer, my baby sister is on the edge of her seat waiting for me to take the world by storm. Her latest request could not have come at a better time.

“…and after the wind an earthquake but the Lord was not in the earthquake…”

Crippled by discouragement, the last several days have driven me to the edge of despair. Like Elijah in the desert, I have been curled up under my own broom tree. Despondence and self-pity have taken up residence for free in a place where the rent is not cheap. Out of sheer desperation I empty my soul onto paper, penning words that somehow confirm her beliefs. If I thought as much of myself as she does what great things might I be able to accomplish?

“…and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice.” 1 Kings 19:11-12

Dear Self,

I’ve heard a lot of negative talk lately from the self-pity committee in your head. I understand that you are discouraged, dejected, and deranged. You feel under qualified, under appreciated, and under stress. You’ve got obligations, distractions, and responsibilities that keep your brain on overload. I get it. You feel like you’re not good enough, talented enough, or important enough to do the job. You feel insignificant, unworthy, and unprepared. I get it. I get it.

Here’s the thing about all these excuses. At the end of the day the plain truth is that it doesn’t matter how you feel. That’s right, I said it. Your feelings don’t matter and here’s why. God gave you a job to do and that’s the bottom line.

The truth is that you are good enough or else you wouldn’t have the ability to do this job in the first place. The truth is that people are responding to your efforts, even if they’re not saying a word. Speaking of which, when did you start caring so much about what other people thought? There are only two opinions that matter and yours is subjective.

The truth is that you have the power to be extraordinary. The truth is that with a little hard work, your voice could reach places you only dream about. The truth is that not only do you deserve to be heard, you are obligated. The truth is that you are more than capable of making your dreams come true. The only thing holding you back is you. What are you waiting for?

Resilient

She struggles to breathe, coughing and sputtering for air. Despite the fact that she is choking, her main concern is elsewhere. She is fighting for a different cause. She extends a fragile arm and claws her way through the dust, shoving pounds of dirt out of her way. Her tired feet drag behind her. One arm swings over her head and then the other. Slowly, relentlessly she shovels the earth away from her face and body. For hours she digs in this manner. She is oblivious to the distant sounds of traffic, children playing, air conditioners humming like the steady beat of her heart. She feels the sun kiss the top of her head and she smiles. She stops to rest, wiping the sweat out of her eyes. In that moment, the hole that she has been emptying for hours begins to fill again, the unforgiving soil closing in around her. All strength depleted, she sinks to the bottom. Earth’s latest mood swing has claimed her immobile- for now. She patiently waits, knowing change will come in time. Her body relaxes and her breathing slows to a steady, gentle rhythm.  

Suddenly the ground moves beneath her and the walls tremble as if convulsing. She crawls to her knees and shoves forward. With new resolve she continues on, determined to reclaim her freedom. The stench of her own filth assaults her senses and she retches. How long has it been since she had a thorough cleansing? Obviously it’s been way too long. Spurred on by her need for a bar of soap, she uses the entire weight of her body to push herself out of the pit. She flops over onto her back and closes her eyes, heaving a heavy, contented sigh.

A gentle rain begins to cover her like an old blanket. She drinks in the sound of the drops softly pattering on her nose, eyelids, and mouth. She parts her lips and allows the water to trickle down her parched throat, grateful for its healing. She pulls herself upright and watches the rain wash away all the layers of mud and filth. The drops come faster and heavier and with renewed energy she stands to her feet. She glances at her hands, scratched and bruised from fighting but finally clean. She raises them to the sky and laughs. 

Battling the Brain Barriers

John Bunyan once said that if we have not quiet in our minds, outward comfort will do no more good for us than a golden slipper on a gouty foot. I believe that many of our greatest battles begin and end with our thoughts. Thoughts are unpredictable, unstable, and rambunctious. They threaten great sin and have the power to do immeasurable damage if unchecked. In 1 Corinthians 5:7 Paul tells us that we need to purge out the old leaven so that we may be a new lump. Leaven symbolizes more than just sin to me. It also represents a level of self awareness that could be potentially dangerous if left untreated. When Jesus spoke of the Pharisees and Sadducees, he was warning his disciples to be wary of toxic doctrine. Along with teachings that went against what he was trying to preach, he was warning them of the dangers of getting too puffed up with the self. A holier than thou attitude can be fatal, not only to the hearer, but also to the doer.

How do we combat this restless evil that lurks within our subconscious? The first thing we need to do is take inventory. With feather duster in hand, we should go through each room in our minds and do a gut check. Anything that is out of place, rancid, or toxic should be immediately removed. This is done with prayer and repentance. Once the dust has been cleared we can make room for praise and worship. Upkeep is relatively simple. We just need to remember to take every thought captive and offer it up to Christ. The cycle can be repeated as often as necessary. Examine, eliminate, and exalt.

The enemy would like nothing more than for us to be distracted and unfocused. We cannot accomplish anything if our brain is inactive. We must remain obedient and steadfast in our calling. Now is the time for swift and deliberate action. We are in a wonderful position to use all of the tools God has given us to go and make disciples. With Christ all things are possible and every day has the potential to be miraculous.

In Remembrance

I wrote this story several years ago but it just seemed appropriate to post it this week. We will never forget...

The smell of coffee percolating wafted into the bedroom before the alarm went off. Jenny rubbed the hair out of her eyes and slowly climbed out of bed, one body part at a time. A curly haired princess pranced into the bedroom. Oh, no. This was going to be difficult.

“Mommy, what are we doing today? Can we go to the park?”

Her dark hair bounced in time to her excitement. Clearly, the child had no memory of the day’s plans. It pained Jenny’s heart to think that it would be a very long time before she saw those dimples again. Her husband walked into the room, tousling the little girl’s ringlets.

“Daddy, why are you home?”

“Remember, honey we talked about this. Mommy is going away today.”

The tiny mouth twisted into a frown. Big eyes filled with water and threatened to spill over.

“She’s leaving today? I thought it was tomorrow.” All the energy drained out of the room like water in a bathtub.

“Your father and I discussed this with you, remember? I’m sorry.”

The other children suddenly appeared in the doorway, their faces somber with truth. Jenny gave each of them a quick hug before kneeling down to the little one.

“Why don’t we have some chocolate chip pancakes and then you can help me pack? Ok? Maybe after that we’ll stop by the ice cream parlor before I leave.”

“Ok.” It was said without eye contact. Heavy feet dragged out the door and descended the stairs.

Hardly a word was spoken while breakfast preparations were underway. Jenny’s husband, Carl watched her from the dining room table, his morning paper perched sternly in his lap. His eyes scanned the classifieds, as he stole an occasional glance in his wife’s direction. How long would it be before he stroked that beautiful auburn hair again? He tried not to think about it.

“Ok, everybody come and eat!”

Plates and cutlery clanged and rattled as the food was served. Two adults and three children sat at the table. Nobody moved. Nobody ate.

“Listen, I’m sorry it has to be like this. They need me. You understand, right?”

The older one, David piped up.

“Yes Mom. We understand and we’ll help Dad. It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry ok? Right, you guys?”

The older children nodded in agreement as they slowly shoveled food in their mouths.

Such a brave little soldier, she thought. How she would miss him. She put her plate in the sink and watched out of the corner of her eye. Her youngest was sitting in her father’s lap, no longer interested in the melted chocolate. Her middle daughter was reading the comics section of the paper. She would cry after her mother was gone, a seemingly hereditary trait in this house.

Jenny quickly turned her head before they caught her staring. It was time to dress and pack. She headed to the bedroom unnoticed. A green canvas bag met her at the foot of the bed. Carl must have taken it out while she was in the restroom. She fingered the tan coat. Her last name was stitched across the right side of the chest, the American flag on the right shoulder. Pride mixed with trepidation welled up inside her. As much as she loved her job, leaving was always the hardest part about it.

She opened the bag and filled it with the standard gear. Green and tan would be her primary colors for the next 15 months. Her M16 rifle would accompany her after she got on the bus. Once dressed, she studied herself in the mirror before heading downstairs for the last time. Pliers, a couple of knives and a screwdriver adorned her vest. Her hair was pulled up and off her neck, hidden under a round, digitized hat. It was explained to her in basic training that the digital pattern actually reduces the threat of enemy attacks, compared to the old style of camouflage that was once prevalent. Her tan combat boots made a thomp, thomp, thomp sound on the hardwood floor. She kissed her family and said goodbye.

Lady Liberty’s torch burned angrily in the night sky. Jenny watched from her seat on the airplane and bowed her head.

“Father, please keep them safe while I’m gone. Help them to know that the others I join are standing with me in prayer for their protection and uninterrupted freedom. Remind them how much I love them. Amen.”

Peace From Within

I was born with a crooked nose. Like most kids with something different about them, I was picked on. Every day I came home crying, cursing the face that God had given me and wishing just for once that I could be beautiful. I hated my nose. Then I became a teenager.

When I was around 12 or 13, something strange happened. Suddenly my nose was not the hideous defect I’d always thought it was. It was unique. I was different than everyone else in my school and this made me happy. When people called me “bent nose” I just smiled and said thank you. I had come to the place in my life where it did not matter what they said. I was finally at peace with who I was and what I had been given. Ironically, it was about this time when my face was going to be altered whether I liked it or not.

The doctor said that if I didn’t have the surgery I would have breathing problems for the rest of my life. Funny thing, his “corrective” surgery did the opposite. Not only did the crook not get fixed, I got an added bump and I’ve had breathing issues ever since he sliced me open. I have learned to be ok with this too. Although this is not the nose I was born with, it still makes me unique and I have a story to tell any time someone gathers enough courage to ask.

With the nose issue finally laid to rest I realized I had another score to settle with myself. Because the shape of my mouth naturally turns downward, it occurred to me that unless I’m in a fully fledged grin, it would appear to everyone that I’m constantly frowning. I can’t count the number of times I’ve had to answer the question, “Are you ok? You look angry.” “Is everything alright? You look sort of sad.” While it is slightly annoying that I just naturally appear perturbed or sad or uncomfortable, I have finally found a solution that is fool-proof and absolutely free. I’m going to smile everywhere I go.

Smiling not only provides the assurance to everyone around me that I am in fact ok, it also boosts my spirits when I’m not. I am carrying a message to the world. I am in love with life, my God, and I actually kind of like myself. Even when things are not ok the act of showing my happy face reminds me of a greater meaning. Things are never as bad as you think they are when you turn your frown upside down.

 

"Though the fig tree may not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines; though the labor of the olive may fail, and the fields yield no food; though the flock may be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls- yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation".—Habakkuk 3:17-18

I'm a guest blogger today!

I'm over at Jewels of Encouragement today! Drop by and say hi? I'd love to hear from you.

Light Breaks Through

I woke up at 3:30 this morning and looked around the room. Although I created this steel prison I knew it was my responsibility to break free. I had no choice. I glanced at the Bible sitting on the nightstand and my heart told me it was time. He's waiting for you. Go to Him.


As darkness fled I felt the warmth of Sonlight upon my shoulders for the first time in weeks. I laid my heavy burden at the feet of Jesus and rejoiced. Light broke through and I was free.

'Vengeance is mine, and recompense; their foot shall slip in due time; for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things to come hasten upon them.' "For the Lord will judge His people and have compassion on His servants, when he sees that their power is gone, and there is no one remaining, bond or free." Deuteronomy 32:35-36

He sees, he knows, and he understands. Best of all, he sings over me.

Hell Freezes Over

Yesterday there was a blizzard in Hell.

I think God delights in making the impossible a reality just to see the look on our faces. We have convinced ourselves that we don’t put God in a box, that nothing is too hard for him, and that all things are possible through Christ who strengthens us. Then when he actually pulls off a miracle we wonder why we never saw it coming. In stunned silence we pull our jelly-jaws off the floor and walk around in dazed confusion. We scratch our heads as if we really can’t believe we just saw what we saw. If God belly-laughs, this would probably be the time when he’s in stitches.

Yesterday I saw things I never thought I would ever see again. Today I am still sitting in stunned, dazed appreciation of a God who was crammed into a tiny box labeled Omnipotent only days ago. He blew the lid off that box and the pieces are scattered all around my life like beautiful, tiny confetti.

What I have learned during the last few days is that God is a God of restoration, of healing, and forgiveness. While our hearts are healing from the hurt, he is frantically gluing the fragments of our shattered lives back together again piece by piece. He sits hunched over the mess of us, painstakingly reattaching each shard by hand. His new creation looks nothing like the original masterpiece. It’s better.

Take a good look at the wayward child, the cheating husband, the home with the foreclosed sign. Do you see all the potential? Underneath the rubble and uncertainty can you see fulfilled dreams and kept promises? I can. Guess what? God can too.

Through the Lord's mercies we are not consumed,
Because His compassions fail not.
They are new every morning;
Great is Your faithfulness.

Hold Fast

Please.

In my prayer closet with God lately it seems like this is the only word that truly sums it all up. Please don't let the hackers steal my identity too. Please provide us a home after this one gets taken by the bank. Please tell my body to cooperate with me, just this once. Please hold me because I can't do any of this by myself. Please.

In the stillness, in the quiet he answers. "Hold fast. Your reward is very near. I will not leave you- no you are never alone. Hold fast. I am coming soon to rescue you. Help is on the way."

The crazy thing is, I believe Him.

Guest Blogger

Happy Friday! I am over at Jewels of Encouragement today. I'd love to know you stopped by so leave a comment. I hope you have a wonderful weekend.

Sherry

http://www.jewelsofencouragement.com/

Bleeding Ink

I'm not going to lie, it's been one challenging week. It started when I awoke at 4am in excruciating pain. A doctor's visit later gave me the news that I need to have an invasive surgery. I am not looking forward to this. Everything else that would normally be an annoying nuisance is now exagerated. Quite frankly, I'm tired of fighting. I don't want to quit, but I sure don't want to play this game anymore.

This journal entry, written by a dear friend of mine seems to sum up everything for me. When she posted it months ago I could see a mirror image of myself. Today the reflection hasn't changed. She and I, we're just waiting for this season to pass when our blood runs black again.


A Razor to the Wrists
by Treava Pool on Tuesday, November 23, 2010 at 7:08am
I know someone that used to do that... cut herself. I hated seeing anyone hurt that badly inside... so much so that "bleeding out the poison" became a dangerous addiction, like any drug might do. She's been/is in counseling and no longer slits her wrists. Thank God! Nevertheless, I do understand what drove her there.

I write, oftentimes, for the very same reason. I don't know how many times I've used the phrase "I bleed ink." It is definitely medicinal for me. Has been since before I knew how to spell ... back when I was a tiny girl, writing songs in my head. And sometimes, well, it's just divinely inspired or challenging to the mind. And sometimes, it's just plain fun. Just depends on what I'm writing. Regardless, I'm never quite satisfied with my "work." Perfectionism can be rather cruel to artists of all genres.

Ann, a friend of Holley (from 'Heart to Heart') answers her own question ("Why do you write?") with: "It is my sickness and it is my medicine, it is my thorn and it is my healing. I take my medicine slow. I gag it down, I choke it up. It never gets easier. I am chronic and life's terminal and this is a salvation, the way the Word meets me. I am not good at it."

I never think I'm very good at it either. But I'm published, so surely I'm not altogether a terrible writer. I journal often... sometimes several times per day, if I need it. And I write poetry, songs, etc, when/if my muse is active/overactive. Lately, all I've been able to write is: "Love is kind." Truth in. Thorn out. "Love is patient." Hope in. Hopelessness out. "Love never fails." Faith in. Failure out. You get the picture.

My muse is dry and sad and sleeping. But she'll wake with fresh breath and vigor soon, I'm sure. For now, I reach out in the quiet, secret places to sweep away the dust of recent battles of the heart. And when my veins have tired of the poison of hateful words spoken, I will bleed ink again. I do believe a masterpiece is waiting on my heart to catch up with my muse. Think I'll just start with: "Love knows no wrong." Forgiveness in. Bitterness out.

I'm terribly in need of a bleeding session. But I just hate that my heart/mind are stuck on the battlefield (though the battle wasn't mine and was over before it ever began). Someone, anyone, challenge my pen! Give me a subject! Give me a cave and a blank sheet of paper! Tear open the thick skin that has built up around my heart like steel. I want to let go of ALL those words and write a new beginning ... again. Maybe, just maybe, I already have!

Cause For Celebration

As long as we are in a battle we should rejoice. The enemy would not take this much interest in us if we were not a serious threat to cause of Christ. A big, red target on our forehead is a good thing. As much as it hurts, it means something amazing. We are being used by God and for God just as we are. The power that Christ has given us is strong enough to do immeasurable damage to our enemy and his agenda. The harder we fight to advance God’s kingdom, the more we should expect to face difficulties and challenges. Our adversary will stop at nothing to render us ineffective. If he can silence us in any way, the lost will not hear our voice and the saved will not have the needed support to keep fighting.

Stay awake, valiant warrior! Bind your wounds with the blood of Christ and rise above your hardships because your labor is not in vain. You are being used in God’s kingdom for great and mighty purposes. You have been called to reach the lost, to comfort your brothers and sisters, and to strengthen them with your unique gifts and abilities. Never give up and never back down. You are needed and you are worth your weight in gold.

Consider each attack on your body, mind, and spirit as medals of Honor for your cause. The greater you serve, the greater the threat you are. Again, rejoice!

“And I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.”
Matthew 16:19

Custom Made Armor

“We are locked in a battle. This is not a friendly, gentleman’s discussion. It is a life and death conflict between the spiritual hosts of wickedness and those who claim the name of Christ.”

Francis A. Schaeffer

I had a conversation with my baby sister recently about trials. In the next few weeks she’ll be in a great state of transition as she moves from childhood into adulthood. With high school behind her and college ahead, she is excited to see what God has in store for her bright future. In the back of her mind she worries. She feels that the minor challenges she faces today cannot compare with the heavier battles the rest of her loved ones are facing. Who am I complain? She wonders. Everyone else’s problems are so big and mine can’t possibly prepare me for what lies ahead.

 

Dear one, you are so precious. Never compare your problems with anyone else’s. You are exactly where God has called you to be. Every trial- no matter how big or how small- is an opportunity for spiritual growth and maturity. God can use you through these experiences. If you really want to feel better about your own unique struggles, ask Him to perfect you. Suddenly those small battles will seem much bigger and the fight a little more challenging.

My sword is heavy today. My enemy surrounds me and I am gasping for breath. Yet, I refuse to back down. I will not surrender. I know that God is using even my tears for a greater good. As I wipe the sweat out of my eyes I look up. There in the distance I see a Knight riding into battle. His armor gleams in the sunlight and I know my deliverance is coming. My Redeemer is on His way.

What Are You Fighting For?

Depression. Addiction. Low Self-Esteem. Anger. Old age. Illness. Traffic. Weight gain. Jealousy. Fear. Pain.

There is an endless battle that rages against us every hour of every day. We fight against forces seen and unseen, in relentless pursuit of victory. As we labor to claim what is rightfully ours, our enemy charges ahead, forcing us to hold the shield and pray for deliverance. We are not alone.

Our battles may be common to all or unique to only us. In reaching out to others and carrying each other's burdens we become strong and empowered. We refuse to become immobilized and we refuse to back down. We are mighty warriors, striving to defeat and conquer. We will prevail.

Every day a battle rages but His power is made perfect in our weakness. We will overcome.

What are you fighting for today?