Victim or Victor?

While at the park today we saw an epic duck vs. goose battle in the fish pond.  The goose was much larger, and much stronger, and by all appearances the duck was dying as the goose pinned the ducks head under the water.  The ducks struggling began to slow, his wings going limp.  Suddenly the ducks desire to breathe and live erupted into a powerful onslaught that upended the goose and sent it screeching out of the water and onto the bank with the duck in hot pursuit, where it thoroughly pummeled the goose.  I stood there and cheered for that victorious bird. You can learn a lot from that little duck.

I’m sure many of you are thinking “why didn’t you help the poor duck to begin with?”    Sometimes, the absolute WORST thing we can do for someone is fight their battle.  In our quickness to intervene, we often teach victim mentality instead of victor mentality.

When you’ve finally had enough, you will engage the enemy, and go on the offensive, and do what’s necessary to move into victory.   

The choice is yours.

2015–The Year of the “No”

Well, it’s that time of the year again.  Everyone starts making their resolutions, setting goals and picking a “theme” word for the year.   In keeping with those traditions, I’ve combined my resolution, goals and theme word all into one small, yet powerful word.  No.

No can be used as an adverb, meaning a negative used to express dissent, denial, or refusal, as in response to a question or request. 

No is also a verb and can mean to reject, refuse approval, or express disapproval of.   An idiom for no is “no can do”.  I like that!

 No alone is a complete sentence.  That’s right, I’ll be saying no more this year.

No to things that I know aren’t good for me, like fast food and soda.  Sweet Jesus, Dr. Pepper and sugar must be told no!

No to making unnecessary, obligatory purchases on the credit card.   (This may affect YOUR birthday, Christmas, etc.   Adjust.)

No to negative words and negative self talk.  No to working areas that I’m not called to be in.  No to taking on everyone else’s burdens.  No to over committing on the schedule.  No to feeling obligated to be all things to all people.  No to Facebook and email.  No to perfectionism.   Just….no.

In saying no, I’ll be freeing myself to say yes to things like:

~being led, not driven
~better health
~financial freedom
~mental rest
~better relationships
~less stress

Does this mean I’m cutting all ties with the real world?  No!  (pun intended)  Feel free to ASK me to go, do, help.   Likewise give me the freedom to give no as an answer.

No. That one simple word, holds so much power.

The Story of the Walking Stick

Have you ever found yourself in the middle of a situation that happens so quickly that you don’t have time to think? Auto-pilot kicks in and it’s as if you’re watching yourself instead of being in the moment?  Clarity comes on the other side of the situation as you look back and see God at work on your behalf, even when you didn’t know you needed it.

On a gray, fall afternoon we decided to take the girls to a local wooded park and do some nature walking.   As is our usual routine, we took the walkie talkies and broke up into two teams to see who could spot the most wildlife.   The walkie talkies are used to tell the other team when a red headed woodpecker or white tail deer is spotted.

This particular Sunday Olivia and I were a team.   We’d taken a trail that we’d never been on, and it led us far into the woods in the opposite direction of Tom and Lindsey.  About 30 or so minutes into our walk we spotted a lean-to, so I cautiously studied the underbrush and surrounding area.  After I determined all was clear, and that the lean-to was most likely left over from last year, we proceeded. 

Another 10 minutes of walking and Olivia and I both stopped and stared at a freshly cut walking stick leaning against one of the trees along the pathway.   It was approximately 5 foot in length, 2 inches in diameter, still green with all of the little extra branches trimmed right down to the base.   Suddenly I was on alert, and again I stopped and took inventory of the surroundings, listening for the slightest rustle of leaves or foot steps, but there was nothing.

Olivia radioed back to her sister and told her about the walking stick.  Lindsey excitedly said “Bring it back to base camp so I can see it!”  Olivia snatched it up and we went on for another 100 feet or so, and then, for whatever reason, Olivia turned an handed me the stick.  We rounded a bend in the path and were about to begin the climb back up towards the ridgeline.

Suddenly, I saw movement at the top of the pathway.   A late 40-ish couple stepped into view at the crest of the hill.  Instinctively, I said “Stop” and Olivia froze in her tracks.   The man saw us, and so did his dogs, as he scrambled to grab the three leashes off the ground.   His scramble was partially successful, as he brought two dogs to an abrupt halt but there was no stopping the large black lab, who was already at a dead run.

The huge, snarling dog rushed down the hill, and Olivia let out a panicked scream.  In one movement, I  grabbed her by the shoulder, and shoved her to safety behind me.   Instinctively I stepped into the path of the charging dog.   The walkie talkie starts to blare “What’s happening?  What’s wrong?  TALK TO ME!”, as my husband hears the screams and snarls echoing through the forest. 

A surreal scene unfolded as the dog came charging; my newly found walking stick connecting firmly with his jawline, sending him reeling.   The owner all the while running down the hill,  towards the fray, shouting, “He doesn’t bite!”

I don’t have time to argue the point, as the dog again lunges at us, snarling and snapping.  Again my walking stick fends off the attack; slowing the dog enough to give the owner time to grab him by the collar in a way that evoked as much pain as the blows of the stick.

The man is now struggling to drag all three dogs away from us.  The wife is standing frozen in panic at the top of the hill and the walkie talkie is still blaring.   About 20 feet away, the man stops, and pulls a muzzle out of his pocket and starts shoving it onto the raging dog, still insisting, “He doesn’t bite.”

Now, I’d like to say that at this point I was nice, but I wasn’t.  I did not use any profanity, but I was not nice.   The wife has now regained her senses and takes offense at the fact I’ve said something like, “YOU IDIOTS, DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ALMOST CAUSED TO HAPPEN HERE?”, and takes this time to lip off to me. (Lady, don’t make me beat you with this stick, because I will).

Anywhoooo, ahem.   I tell Olivia to answer her father and tell him we’re ok as we put some distance between us and the couple and their dogs.    They move off, and I realize they are heading towards Tom and Lindsey, so I radio back and warn him, giving him time to get her to safety.

The entire event took probably less than 90 seconds, but it seemed like a lifetime in slow motion.   As we climbed up the ridge and into the clearing I began to think of the walking stick I still carried in my hand.   Where had it come from?  Who had placed it by the tree?  How long had it been waiting for us?   Why did Olivia hand it to me when she did?

Had we not picked up that  stick, or had Olivia dropped it in panic at the sight of the charging dog, we would have been defenseless.  Some people would say it’s coincidence.   I don’t believe in coincidence.

I do believe that God worked on our behalf.  I don’t know how He got the stick where it needed to be, and when it needed to be there.   But I know that my God is mighty to save! 

Did He warn me before that time?  Probably so, as there were several times I wondered if we should head back instead of pressing ahead.  Then again, had the couple and their dogs come from behind, and without having yet found the stick….it could have ended differently.

The walking stick now stands just inside our front doorway.   A reminder of God’s provision, and protection…even when we don’t realize we’re in trouble.

The Strength of Joy

If you’ve been around church any amount of time, you’ve heard someone quote the second half of Nehemiah 8:10 The joy of the Lord is your strength.

I’ve heard lots of sermons on the topic.   The best sermons being on the differences between being happy and having joy. It’s truly important to know those differences!  Yet sometimes I just don’t feel joy…and sometimes I don’t necessarily feel strong.

This past week though, I heard my new pastor say something that was like a little light bulb moment.

He said that when all heck is breaking loose in your life and things seem to be out of control, but YET you trust in God despite how it looks, it is then that you are showing the strength that comes from the joy of knowing God is in control.

Now maybe to you that doesn’t say or mean anything.  But to me, it was an AHA! moment.

Not the Demographic

Walking into the meeting, my husband and I  knew it wasn’t going to have a good outcome.   After more than two years of being on the church plant team, we’d been ask to have “a meeting”.   Nothing could have shocked or disappointed us more than the ensuing 45 minute conversation.

It started out innocently enough.  After more than two years, the church had doubled in size and we’d gone to two services, with not nearly enough volunteers to cover the needed areas.  Our oldest child, wrapping up 5th grade, was getting ready to age out of the children’s program, so I’d asked if she could volunteer to be a helper in some area, and be scheduled for service on the same days/times as me.  It seemed simple enough, but it wasn’t.

We were met with a resounding no, she’s too young.  Really?  Too young to serve snacks and read books to the toddlers?  Too young to help the preschool class with crafts?  Seriously?   This, coupled with some other areas of exclusion, solidified in our daughters mind that she wasn’t really wanted in our church setting.  (Little did we know how right she was.)

This created a problem for us on several levels.  Our church plant met in a downtown location, surrounded by a mix of homeless, drug dealers and potential human hazards.   If my husband and I were both serving in various capacities and the child wasn’t, then where was she to go?  Certainly not to be left alone to fend for herself in an area that many of the adults felt uncomfortable in alone.     As a mother, my child is my first priority, so I asked to be removed from some scheduling so that I could make sure she was physically safe, and also try to help her not feel as out of place and unwanted, both of which I explained to the children’s ministry director via email. 

That’s when the request for “the meeting” with the pastor happened.   We didn’t really see what the issue was, but agreed thinking at least we could voice our concerns about the growing number of kids getting ready to age out with the wrapping up of the school year.   There was a building uneasiness as the day approached.

We were met with the typical pleasantries and small talk.  Then the topic turned to my email.   We were informed that it was in fact the pastor who had nixed having our daughter scheduled.   He went on for several minutes telling us what mature, well behaved and spiritually strong children we have.   We were applauded for being the type of parents who take parenting seriously, and were complemented with “I wish more parents were like you.”   Our hard work, faithfulness to service and to tithing, and obvious heart for God were all given the seal of approval.

I sensed a very big impending “but” as the praise for us and our family continued.

“Why do I get the feeling there’s a “but” following all of that?”, I interrupted?

“Because there’s a big but following it”, he said.

We sat dumbstruck as his words fell.

“You, and your children, are expecting to grow spiritually on Sunday’s.   I specifically avoid teaching anything deep or overly spiritual on Sunday mornings, and the children's ministry isn’t geared for that either, because it’s not what draws people. …”

“…Maybe this isn’t the church for you.”

“….You’re not the type of people we’re trying to draw.”

“….Maybe you would be better off serving somewhere else.”

Blink, blink, blink.  Crickets chirping.

I’m sure this is one of the few times in my life that I’ve been at a loss for words.  My husband turned and looked at me, bewildered.

The pastor prattled on about some other things, and as he did a single tear slid down my cheek.  He saw me as I brushed it away, and he furrowed his forehead at this totally out of character thing he’d just seen happen in me.

You see, I don’t cry for suffered wrongs, for hurt feelings for broken bones or even death.   I cry when I’m dangerously mad.  But I wasn’t mad.  Deep inside was a pain of revelation…that this is “the American church” in action.   This must be how Jesus feels every time the church doors open and He’s not allowed in.

Before we left, the pastor asked “How can I pray for you?”   My dear blind friend, it is you that needs prayer.   As we left this scripture came to mind: 

2 Timothy 3:5  Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away.

We stepped out onto the sidewalk and closed the door behind us, not quite sure of what was next.  What we were both confident in, is that we’d rather be asked to leave for wanting to grow in God, than to stay and die with the blinded masses.

The Happiest Girl Ever

Seriously, doesn’t she look like the happiest kid ever?  Well no, she wasn’t, because she felt like she had “bunny teeth”.  That was in part to be smacked in the mouth with a baseball requiring several stitches to her face, and some other issues at the age of 7.  Heck, I was just glad that she still had all of her teeth after that.

She all but begged for braces.  Ok, she DID beg for braces.  We explained that it wasn’t that we didn’t want to get braces, we just really didn’t have the money to cover it.  But I told her to pray about it, and when God provided the funding, I’d make sure braces would come her way.

I tried to reason with her.  “You know, braces HURT, right?”  It didn’t matter.  She still prayed, and believed, and touched the heart of God.

Have you ever seen anyone so happy to have braces?  Me either.  But I’m happier to know that God heard her prayer, because He does care about the little things (and the not so little).

Ouch! That’s Sharp!

I love kitchen gadgets.  I especially love my Rada knives.  They are extremely sharp and make cutting meats and veggies an easy task.  In the hand of the right person, this is an amazing tool.  In the hands of the wrong person it could be a horrific weapon.  Even to an experienced, but careless cook it can still cause injury.  In fact I’ve spent  one Christmas Eve in an Urgent Care facility, because a family member used one of those knives carelessly and ended up needing several stitches.

Interestingly enough, there is a verse in Hebrews 4:12 that says “For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.”

Now don’t take offense at the fact that I’m going to compare the Word of God to a puny Rada knife.  Rather, take a moment and look at the similarities.  They are both sharp and piercing and used the right way they cut through meat, and joints and marrow, and the things that bind us.

However, in the hands of the inexperienced, or the downright mean they can both be used to destroy those that they are wielded at. In the hands of a controlling, manipulative and religious person, the Word of God can divide the soul and spirit.    Don’t believe me?

Think about the innocent little girl who is raped and told by somebody  “well it’s like the Bible says, you reap what you sew, you did something to bring this on”.  You have just sounded spiritual, you have just misused God’s Word and you’ve hurt her more deeply than the rapist. 

Proverbs 18:14  The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity; but a wounded spirit who can bear?  another translation says a CRUSHED spirit.  Crushed…maybe even divided asunder?

In the book of Luke, a lawyer asks Jesus what He needs to do to inherit eternal life.  Jesus answers him and says  Luke 10:27 And he answering said, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself.

In Mark 11:34-40 the Bible says Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question:   “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

In neither of these two instances did Jesus tell us to wound, hurt and argue with sinners (or saints).  It doesn’t say slice and dice them with My Word.  It says to love them as yourself….putting their needs equal to your own, valuing them and looking out for their good.

In many places in the Bible, God gives us His Word as a warning, or a heads up, if you will. The 10 commandments for example are a list of things you shouldn’t do, not because God doesn’t want you having fun (as if murder and stealing are fun).  Rather, it’s because He knows it’s going to cause harm in some way. Perhaps, just perhaps In Hebrews 4:12 when God talked about the sharpness of His Word He was saying “hey watch it, don’t use My Word to hurt instead of to heal”.

I don’t mean we turn a blind eye to sin, or say it’s ok to do vile things that go against the Bible. However, I don’t think we have been given free reign to slice and dice those around us (sinners or saints).  Nor is it our job to point out everyone else’s sin, because really our own issues should keep up quite busy.

Jesus came to set the captives free.  Let’s not work against Him.

If  you feel like you’ve been sliced and diced by Christians, I’m sorry.  I feel your pain, I understand how deep the wounds go. 

Know this, you are LOVED!  You have VALUE! 

UnWord 2014

Last week I posted my “word” for the year.  Remember?  It was Less.   This week I’m posting my “UnWord” for the year.   I hear you thinking “aha!  she spelled that wrong”.  Um, no, I didn’t.  I meant UnWord.

Nesting Place, Life in Grace, The Painted House and Fieldstone Hill Design came up with the wonderful idea of UnWord 2014.

An UnWord is something you aren’t going to be for the upcoming year.  Even if it’s not a real word.   So for example if you really struggle with spending your word might be “Unspend”.  Yes, it sounds dorky, but I GET it.

There are lots of things I need to “un” this year.  It’s hard to pick just one.  But, since I’m really working on my demeaning attitude towards myself, I’m going to pick the word “Undemeaning”. 

Spell check is having a fit over this post by the way.

Go ahead, pick an UnWord and join us at UnWord 2014.

Less

It’s that time of year again where people are looking for their new “word” for 2014.   I’ve seen some good ones like “overcome”, “focus” and “achieve”.  Those are all great words, and they match the lives and journey’s of those who have chosen them.   

The word that I felt like is to be mine this year is “less”.   Not very encouraging or motivating is it?   Especially for one, who for 46 years, has felt like “less”.   Less than the child who was kept, less than the golden child who’s shadow I grew up in.   Less that the other bloggers who have hordes of followers compared to my 19, less of a mother than those who speak sweetly and quietly.

Yet, in 2014 I feel the urge for “less”.   Less busy, less things, less commitments, less food (gah), less bad attitudes, less grumbling, less of ME…to make room for more of HIM.

Even in picking the word “less”, I felt less than the others with the exciting, challenging words.   I almost didn’t share my word…if felt so much less important than all those others.   Then I shared it, and I received this amazingly encouraging and well timed message from a dear friend:

I love your word for next year and as soon as I read it I was flooded with emotions. It is crazy how a word can hit you with so many thoughts. So thank you, because I am using the same word. I need so much more LESS in my life; less stuff, less worry, less of me and more of him. See, it is the perfect word. Just wanted to say thanks! Hope you had a great Christmas and great New Year!

It’s amazing how “less” has already opened up so much more!!   Thank you dear Cindy for that paragraph of encouragement, it meant the world.

Fall–A Time To Live

Fall has always been my favorite season.  I love the cool, crisp mornings, the changing leaves and pumpkin everything!   Fall signifies that the time of summer growth has ended and the world is getting ready for it’s winter rest.  It’s the cycle of life.

Interestingly enough, my cycle of life seems to be out of whack.   Spiritually, emotionally and even physically I’ve been stuck in the dark, cold, dormant days of deep winter for what seems like an eternity.

Now as we head into fall I feel a stirring, a knowing that something is about to shift.   Little things here and there have been reaffirming to me that my winter is ending.    It’s as if I’ve been hibernating - existing, but not really living.

Then yesterday I read this prophecy:

This morning in prayer I am hearing the word- sidelined, people have been sidelined (pushed away from destiny), the enemy has sent guilt, fear, condemnation and attacks of overwhelming circumstances in order to get people out of their assigned places...this is a time of renewal, refreshing..,a re-birthing of purpose....The Father says that you will not remain sidelined but you will be restored fully into purpose...during this fall season there is a release of refreshing and healing oil to bring people back to the intended place of destiny!

I have to admit, this had me pretty stoked! It bore witness with what I’ve been sensing deep inside.  Then less than 24 hours later I received an email from my brother, the subject line was “Confirmation” and inside was this, from Joel Osteen.

Are you going through a tough time today? Are you sitting on the sidelines of life? God is saying, “Arise and get back in the game.” If a friend betrayed you, don’t go through life lonely. Go out and find some new friends. The right people are in your future. If you lost your job, don’t sit around complaining. Go out and find another job. When one door closes, God will always open another door. If you’re facing a health issue, fighting that sickness, don’t give up on life and start planning your funeral. Arise from that discouragement!

When God sees you do your part, He will do His part. He will give you a new life. That means He will restore your health, give you new opportunities, new relationships. He will give you a new perspective. You will see that even though it’s painful, it is not the end. Even though it was unfair, it is not over. There is still life after the sickness, life after the divorce, life after the bad break. A full life is still in front of you. Today, arise and let God’s glory shine all over you!

As if I still needed more confirmation, I opened up the Faith to Faith Devotional.  I’ve had it for probably 20 years or more, I’ve ready through it many times.  But it’s sat on the shelf unattended for years now.  I open up to today’s dated devotional, and the title is “Rekindle the Fire”.

Although, I’m not sure what or how, I know this is going to be a fall like no other.   I’m SO ready!

Low on Mercy–Still of Use

If you have been around church long, you’ve most likely taken a Spiritual Gifts Test at some point.  Truthfully, most of us already know what our gifting's are, these tests are more for the benefit of the church to know what area of ministry you are most suited to in their program of choice.

Not surprisingly, I always score very low on mercy and compassion.  Shocking I know.  Interestingly enough, my three closest friends all score low in that area as well.  Seriously, if there were negative numbers in that category the four of us would all be in the negative. 

Now, before all of you emotional people label us as uncaring and cold, let me just clear this up for you, because really you couldn’t be further from the truth.  We care deeply.  We care about what choices landed you in the situation you’re in, what steps can be taken to get you out of that situation and what can be done to ensure that the process doesn’t get repeated.    We care enough to walk into hell armed with only a water pistol to bring you out.  We care about seeing a life changed by God.  Whether it feels good or bad isn’t of any real concern.   We care too much to leave people in the hole they’re in.

Interestingly enough, one of these three low mercy gals asked me this questions recently about my trip to Ethiopia.

“Why on earth did YOU go on a missions trip?  We have very similar personalities and I know that the last place on earth I’d want to be is on the mission field."

Now, she didn’t mean that she didn’t care about those people and their plight.  She meant that there was no way in heck she was going to go sit and cry with, and about,  these folks, (like she see’s most missions folks do) and she knew it wasn’t likely that I did either.

The reason I was asked to go on this trip, and the reason I went was BECAUSE of my personality, not in spite of it.  We were going into people’s homes, peoples lives.  There was a need for someone who could go in, see the situation for what it was without gasping in horror “OH MY GAWD”…because sometimes that would have been the emotional persons first response, and rightly so.  There was a need for someone who could look at the facts, determine a course of action and if necessary look at the emotional leader of the group and say “Get a grip girl.”

There was a need for someone who would GO, even when they didn’t FEEL like it. 

Did I cry on this trip?  No.   Did I seethe with rage at the injustice and inhumanity of it?  Yes.  Am I involved in ways to make a difference now that I’m home?  Yes.

The Apostle Paul wasn’t a warm and fuzzy kind of guy, but he was effective in what he was called to do.    Love isn’t an emotion.  It’s a choice.   There are those of us, who choose to love…whether we “feel like it” or not.   We have a place, and a calling…and we just might not fit the mold, and I’m ok with that.

Great Expectations

The word “expectations” has been rolling around in my mind a lot lately.  I had even been planning a blog post, and then I got side tracked with…expectations of others (gasp) and didn’t get back to it.  The other morning I saw this totally cute picture on Facebook, courtesy of Random Thoughts ‘N Lotsa Coffee, and it brought me back around to “expectations”.

Can you relate?

In the middle of all of life’s craziness right now, (church plant, traveling to Ethiopia, homeschooling, life) I agreed to do an 8 week Bible study, using the book Anything by Jennie Allen as our guide.   Right smack dab in the middle of that book Jennie writes:

But we all wake up and put our feet down every day, and we move through our time here according to rules, expectations, demands and hopes of our given space in this world.

Yes, that pretty much sums it up…the expectations put on us by ourselves and others move us through our time here on this earth.  Instead, we should be moved by a passion to do what we are called and appointed to do by and for our God.

Just like the often unrealistic expectations we place on our morning coffee, we also place unrealistic expectations on ourselves and others.  Set yourself and those in your life free!

Unrealistic expectations will ALWAYS cause two things; stress and disappointment.   We stress ourselves silly trying to meet an expectation and then we, they, the stranger who happens to look at us wrong and has no clue that we were even there,  will in some way be disappointed because it’s not “good enough.”  

Stop it!  Stop trying to please the world, stop trying to impress everyone…stop making yourself crazy!   

If at the end of this brief 80ish years on earth we have given ourselves over to expectations (as defined by whomever) we have done nothing but wasted 80ish years.

If during this brief 80ish years we have followed God passionately, in the mundane, in the exciting, in the hard, in the spotlight and in the shadows we have lived and died to His Glory.   A simple “Well done thou good and faithful servant” from the Creator of the universe will totally be better than any kudos from our peers.

Let go, and live like you’re dying….because each day we are truly one day closer to eternity.

Live Like That–Sidewalk Prophets

Basketball and the Octopus

Being a parent is an odd job.  The only real training you get is on the job, and the only real learning you do is after you’ve messed up.   Thankfully, Holy Spirit steps in from time to time (when allowed) and does some pretty profound things.

Lindsey has a new found love, basketball.  Yes, I know she does lots of things, but they are all on the coattails of her sister.  Basketball is the FIRST thing I’ve ever seen her truly get passionate about. From the moment she was introduced to the game she has done nothing but dribble around the house and visit the basketball court next door (supervised by a parent of course).

Being the gung-ho kind of gal I am, I thought I’d see if there was a basketball league in our area for her age.  As it so happened (and I don’t believe it was coincidence, I believe it was God) I found a Christian basketball league that was starting practices the same day that I called, and they had ONE SPOT OPEN on the 2nd-3rd grade team.

I excitedly told Lindsey about it and she promptly burst into tears.  I was taken aback to say the least.  So after some consoling I began probing, because that’s how I roll.   Don’t you like to play basketball?  Yes.  Do you want to learn the rules of basketball?  Yes.   Do you want to get to play with other kids?  Yes.   Do you want to get a cool uniform?  Yes.

Blink. Blink.

Then WHY are you blubbering?   “I’m scared.”   Then it hit me, one of the giants that grips my husbands side of the family had taken aim at Lindsey.  I’ve seen glimpses of this giant lurking around her before.  But never have I seen it grip her so, and it flat out made me mad.

I didn’t really know what to do, or say and I kind of did one of those “A little help here please God” prayers under my breath.  Then I opened my mouth and God filled it with words of liberty for Lindsey.

“Do you know what an octopus is?”   Yes.   “You know how it’s this big scary looking thing with all these arms?”  Yes.  “Well fear, is like an octopus.”  (Blink.Blink.)   “You see if you get close to an octopus, it reaches out with one of it’s arms and grabs you.  Then it grabs you with another arm.  Before you know it you’re so wrapped up in this octopus that you can’t do anything.”   (Blink.Blink.)

“Fear is the same, if you let it, it’ll wrap around you in one thing.  Then in another, and before you know it you’re so wrapped up in fear that you can’t do or try or enjoy anything.   There are too many wonderful things in life to experience to let fear stop you.”   (Blinking has stopped and the light bulb of understanding is starting to shine.)

“Basketball is one of those wonderful things that fear is trying to take away from you, and you can’t let fear do that…and sometimes as hard as it sounds, we have to do it afraid, right in the middle of being afraid we have to do it.”

She was suddenly calm, as she squeaked out “ok”.    I shared several scriptures with her about not being afraid because God is always with us.  Then the excitement of getting to play basketball on a team took over and she was downright giddy for the rest of the morning/afternoon.

Fast forward several hours and we’re walking across the parking lot to the gym.  I see the muscles in her jaws tighten, and the rims of her eyes start to turn pink…and I could just make out her whispers to herself “do it even if you’re afraid, do it even if you’re afraid”.

That one hour sped by.  At first Lindsey was hesitant and obviously nervous.  Then she loosened up a little bit at a time.  When we left she exclaimed “Basketball totally rocks Mom!”

At bedtime, after prayers I told her I was proud of her for facing her fear and trying.   She grinned really big and said “The octopus didn’t get me!”

Thanks God, because I totally couldn’t have come up with that on my own.

Facing My Giants

I’ve deemed 2013 to be my year of Experience.  It sounds so grand and alluring.   But unfortunately, in order to experience some things there also needs to be some hard battles fought.    There are giants in the land.

Have you ever had a giant in your land?  I’m sure you have, whether you want to admit it or not.   A giant is that heavy darkness that encircles you and threatens to choke the very air from your lungs.  The sound a giant makes is the horrific screams of mental and emotional anguish that push their way to the top of your vocal chords, only to be choked down by the fear of being heard.  

The giant stands between you and your hopes, your dreams…your destiny.  Giants are bullies with a mission.   The mission of a giant is to destroy you by whatever means necessary.  Giants will come at you with an incredible, pit-bull like tenacity.   It may be the giant of depression, alcoholism, rage, lust, overeating, drug abuse or anything that can be used to destroy you.  

Let’s be honest here, sometimes withstanding a giant wears you down.  You give up, you quit fighting and you pray for the giant to just kill you and be done with it.  Any giant worth it’s salt will torture you for quite a while before it puts you out of your misery.

When David went up against Goliath, he was defending not only himself but all of Israel.  Goliath told him point blank “When I defeat you, your people will serve me.”  (1 Samuel 17:9) David went to war, in God’s strength and defeated the Philistine giant and delivered his people.  Go David!

David had another giant in his life named Lust, but instead of killing it, he entertained it and then gave himself over to it.  It took him to bed with Bathsheba.  Then the giant took aim on his family.  It cost him a child.   His own daughter was raped by her brother.  Solomon was so controlled by the giant of lust that he had 700 wives and 300 concubines, and they eventually turned him away from God.   David got to watch all this mess unfold in his family….because he failed to face his giant.

The moral of this story?  Your children will have to battle the giants that you don’t kill. 

I’m tired, I’m broken and I don’t want to do battle anymore.  Years of abuse, abandonment and betrayal have left me empty and cold.   But, as a mother who would literally kill or die for my children, I realize I have to get back up and fight my giants another round.  The giants of rage, depression and obesity will not take aim on my children, they have to go through me first.

Giants are intensely personal – in your face kind of dudes.  They tell you that you will never succeed, that you will always be their slave.   Giants lie!

Stand back!  You may not like the way I fight my giants.  That’s ok.  Don’t take sides with my giant against me though, I’ve had enough “friendly fire” for a lifetime.

Who do you love more than life?  Are they worth facing your giants?

Yep…Blew That One

You know, it’s really a good thing that God is gracious and long suffering.   Have you ever had God tell you something, several times and STILL managed to mess it up?  Yeah, me too….

Over the weekend I sorted and packed the girls summer clothing and put out their fall/winter things.   Lindsey actually out grew some things this year, although at 7 she’s just now wearing the clothing her sister wore at 3.  Anyway, I was putting the outgrown clothes on her bed in a pile.  Laying on the bed was her “blankie".  Her handmade, white blanket.  She’s slept with that blanket every night for SEVEN YEARS.

I saw the blanket, and as plain as anything I heard God say, “Move the blanket off the bed or it’ll get lost.”  So me, in all of my wisdom (ahem) made a mental note “make sure the blanket doesn’t get put in the pile.”

I went on sorting clothes, putting things to keep in a box.  Meanwhile the pile on the bed got bigger.  Once again I heard it, “Move the blanket off the bed or it’s going to get lost.”   Although I didn’t actually say this, or even think it, my actions said “I know better than you do God…I’m watching to make sure the blanket doesn’t get lost.”  You see where this is going, don’t you?

I went downstairs, placed another ad on Freecycle (you have to love Freecycle), and within about 30 minutes the huge bag of Lindsey’s clothing was headed to a new home.   I had shoved the last of the clothes into the bag as the husband walked in the door from work, and the man to pick up the bag of clothes pulled in the driveway.

Fast forward to 8:30pm.  Bedtime arrived, and Lindsey said, “Where is my blankie?”   You ever have one of those moments where you are pretty sure you can see God shaking his head in disbelief and saying “TOLD YOU SO DUMMY”.  

Let me tell you I turned that little girls bedroom upside down.  I had MADE SURE the blankie didn’t go in the bag  I’d been very careful to make sure it didn’t.  Yet, it was not on the bed.  Then I thought maybe by chance it had fallen into the box of clothing I’d kept.  I tore through the box…nothing.   I’d been “careful”, but what I hadn’t been was obedient.

I finally emailed the folks who picked up the clothes and asked if by chance there was a white blanket in the bag.  Then I sat glued to the computer screen for the next 30 minutes praying the lady checked her email.  Finally a reply popped up…yep, she had the blanket.  Sigh.

The lady emailed me directions to her house, and since it was late and she lives in a more “intense” side of town my husband said he’d go get the blanket.   As the front door slammed I heard that same voice “You need to pray.”   You better believe I listened this time.  I prayed for my husband the entire time he was gone, I didn’t stop until he returned about 20 minutes later.

While my husband was driving home, what appeared to be a drunk driver, crossed the center line by more than half the width of the car.  My husband said “I somehow managed to get out of his way just in time.” 

Do you see how quickly a single act of disobedience, in something so seemingly small and insignificant could have forever changed my family?   Yet God, in His mercy intervened just in time.

We often wonder why God doesn’t promote us, or use us in some earth shattering way.  God wonders, “Why can’t you just listen and obey?”

Concession Stand–Closed For Repairs

My girls love going to sporting events.  Not that they are huge sports fans, but rather they are fans of the concession stand.  They love getting popcorn, hotdogs and fountain drinks.  Now keep in mind, all of these foods are easily found in our own home (ok,we don’t have FOUNTAIN drinks, but we have soda on occasion).   But there is just something special about spending money at a concession stand that gets my kids excited.

If you have ever worked in a concession stand, its anything but fun.  It’s hot, and cramped.  People are constantly barking orders at you “gimme a hot dog”, “I said diet Pepsi, this is regular Pepsi!”, “hurry up, I’m missing the game”, with little thought to the person stuck in the 6X6 square with three other people, a blazing grill and some incredible body funk.  In the name of customer service and the team you’re representing you grit your teeth and smile…and avoid the urge to spit on someone’s food before handing it to them.

Without sounding particularly “Forest Gump-ish”, I’d like to say that your life is like a concession stand.  People on the outside are often asking, needing and even demanding things.  You grit your teeth and smile and try to meet those needs, in the name of the team you’re a part of, team Jesus.  You say things like “oh no, that’s ok, I don’t mind, really”.   And sometimes, you don’t mind and it is ok, really.

Then there are times when everything in you wants to spit on the food of the one you’re serving.   You’ve given all you have and you’re just done.

That’s where I am today.  I’ve opened my life, and even my home, up to many people.  I’ve made concessions in many areas.  Giving up my dreams, my house and even my vehicle in order to meet the needs, wants and demands of those around me.  Only to find, it’s not enough….they need/want more.  There is no more. 

Honestly, I’ve worked the concession stand too long.  I loathe the concession stand. It’s a place of discouragement and despondency for me.   I’m suffocating in that 6X6 cramped square.

So I’m stepping outside of the concession stand.  There’s now a “Closed For Repair” sign up.  I’m broken and spent.

I need remodeling, refreshing and reconstruction.  It may take a life time.