It's been almost twenty years since I embarked upon entering college. I only vaguely remember placement tests and financial aid applications. I have blurry memories of roaming the school bookstore looking for just the right texts -- and having my jaws hit the floor at the price of those textbooks. I have slightly more vivid memories of the expectation of a new year (and that could be because I've had the same expectations with both teaching in public school and home schooling).
This past week... I returned to a college campus. Not as a student this time but on a mission to help someone else become a student. An incredibly bright, bubbly girl has come into my life and family this summer. She is a recent high school graduate and has found herself in need of a little help in her endeavor to be a college student. Her hope was to begin school in January at our local community college.
So last Monday, we loaded up and headed to campus to see what it would take to get her enrolled for the winter semester. But while we were there, God started opening doors that we didn't expect to get opened. Within about 10 minutes of being on campus, she had a student I.D. number. Then we went to financial aid and found out that we could easily get her the financial aid that she needed. We realized that her dream of becoming a college student didn't have to wait until January. She could do it NOW! Within a couple of hours, we drove off of the campus with her printed class schedule, textbooks, and the coveted student I.D. -- which got posted to Facebook before we even made it out of the parking lot.
During our adventure, (and it was an adventure for we drove on campus not knowing where any of the buildings were, any of the people we needed to see, and without much direction or planning) we stopped for lunch where we started talking about the whirlwind of a day that we had had. We were just amazed at how quickly things fell in place. We were amazed at how easy it was to accomplish each item on the official registration checklist. We were amazed that we were amazed because we knew, of course, who had directed each step of our way.
Life has not been easy for my sweet friend. She has learned the meaning and the importance of having God as her refuge and her strength. As we ate lunch, we talked of her plans to become a social worker and her hope and desire to be able to help children who have endured bad situations. It occurred to me as we talked that perhaps all of the travails that she has endured are because God has an incredible plan for her. In years to come as she sits with children who come from who knows what kind of situations, she will have an empathy and understanding of their feelings. She will be able to help them because she has not lived a life eating out of the proverbial silver spoon. And I told her that there are babies who haven't even been born yet who will have the opportunity for a better life because of what she will be able to offer them.
I have often heard people ask, "How can a loving God let bad things happen?" I've talked with people who have lost a child or are homeless or have an addiction or are alone who don't see how there can possibly be a God who loves them because they have been dealt a bad hand. I've been asked, "What's the purpose of suffering?"
There's the old saying "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" (which I detest by the way because, really, sometimes I just don't think I need to be any stronger) that many people cling to as their buoy during life's storms. And that's fine. But there's a deeper truth to our struggles on earth as well. First, we must remember that there is no Scripture in the Bible that says, 'Thou shalt have an easy life." or "everything will be a bed of roses." As as a matter of fact, we are told that we will face difficulty in this life. That's one reason why so many Christians anxiously await the day that Jesus will come back for His people.
Secondly, if life were indeed a bed of roses, when would we find a need to have God be our refuge and strength? He would just be this really cool Creator sitting in heaven waiting for a day that He could bring us up to live with Him. But would we ever turn to Him if we didn't need Him? Would we ever stop to see how His plan makes everything fit together in the end? Would we ever realize how much we need His wisdom which He has gifted to us through the Bible? Or would we just float through life thinking that we can handle life on our own?
I think what I've grasped anew this week is that the struggles we go through in this life can do one of two things for us. We can let them tear us down and beat us up or we can use our ordeals as an opportunity to praise God for allowing us to rely on Him and as a stepping stone to reach out and help others in similar situations.
What are you going to let your next struggle do for you?
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance." James 1:2-3
Monday, August 19, 2013
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Forgiveness
One of my favorite songs right now is Forgiveness by Matthew West. I originally was attracted to the song because of its rousing chorus, but since I've listened to the song more regularly, I've become even more drawn to the words of the verses.
The first two stanzas contain these words of wisdom:
"It's the hardest thing to give away,
And the last thing on your mind today
It always goes to those that don't deserve"
and
"It's the opposite of how you feel
When the pain they caused is just too real
It takes everything you have just to say the word
Forgiveness."
That's pretty heavy stuff.
You see, lately I've been awash in several different situations from several different fronts where some people have made me pretty angry, where some people have outright lied to me and hurt my feelings, and where some people have betrayed my trust. Satan's hand has been moving mightily. As my husband and I have been hashing our way through some of these experiences, forgiveness has been a frequent topic of conversation. And it's pretty human, I think, to cling to the opposite of the lyrics above to justify NOT giving forgiveness away.
The things that have hurt and angered me lately have not been met with remorse by the offenders, in some cases have not been acknowledged, and in some cases have adamantly been avoided. So really (the human in me says), if you can't admit that you've done wrong to me, and you can't face me and say you are sorry... why should I have to forgive you? Wouldn't it do us all just fine if we walk the other way and ignore each other? Aren't I justified in staying angry if you can't seem to care that you have been offensive? If all you can do is make excuses for your behavior, do you deserve my forgiveness?
Well, the Bible says that they do. When Peter asked Jesus how many times he had to forgive people who had sinned against him, Jesus answered in Matthew 18:22 by saying, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy times seven times." Wow! That's a lot.
And so therefore, I have chosen to forgive those who have wronged me. It doesn't matter if they have asked for my forgiveness. It doesn't matter if they are avoiding me. It doesn't matter if they are denying their offense has even occurred. I have forgiven.
The beauty of forgiveness is that, in reality, it's not just for the wrongdoer. It's also for me. West's lyrics continue with the lines,
"It'll clear the bitterness away.
There is no end to what it's power can do."
Being the forgiver is liberating. Since I've made the choice to forgive these certain people, I no longer lay awake at night stewing. I no longer run their offenses over and over in my mind. I no longer feel anger (some disappointment and hurt, yes, but no anger) when I think of these people or the situations that have occurred. I feel peace.
There's an even bigger idea to grasp here than the forgiveness that I have extended. One final line from the song says, "Help me now to give what You gave me."
Colossians 3:13 tells us, "Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgives you."
If we were to take an intimate look at all the sins of my life (which I think we won't), we could say on a human level that I'm not that terrible of a person. But I assure you, I have done plenty for which I have needed to ask for forgiveness. And I am assured by the blood that Jesus spilled from the cross that all of my indiscretions have been forgiven. Colossians 1: 13 - 14 collaborates this by saying, "For he has rescued us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins."
Even as Jesus was in the throes of his crucifixion, his plea was "Father, forgive them, for they do not know know what they do." (Luke 23:34). And surely no one has ever wronged me in such a way. I have not been beaten, I have not been spat upon, I have not been hung on a cross. If Jesus, even in His life-ending misery can look at the very men who were crucifying Him and extend His forgiveness, how can I do any less for the petty, non-life-ending occurrences that face me?
Forgiveness.
The first two stanzas contain these words of wisdom:
"It's the hardest thing to give away,
And the last thing on your mind today
It always goes to those that don't deserve"
and
"It's the opposite of how you feel
When the pain they caused is just too real
It takes everything you have just to say the word
Forgiveness."
That's pretty heavy stuff.
You see, lately I've been awash in several different situations from several different fronts where some people have made me pretty angry, where some people have outright lied to me and hurt my feelings, and where some people have betrayed my trust. Satan's hand has been moving mightily. As my husband and I have been hashing our way through some of these experiences, forgiveness has been a frequent topic of conversation. And it's pretty human, I think, to cling to the opposite of the lyrics above to justify NOT giving forgiveness away.
The things that have hurt and angered me lately have not been met with remorse by the offenders, in some cases have not been acknowledged, and in some cases have adamantly been avoided. So really (the human in me says), if you can't admit that you've done wrong to me, and you can't face me and say you are sorry... why should I have to forgive you? Wouldn't it do us all just fine if we walk the other way and ignore each other? Aren't I justified in staying angry if you can't seem to care that you have been offensive? If all you can do is make excuses for your behavior, do you deserve my forgiveness?
Well, the Bible says that they do. When Peter asked Jesus how many times he had to forgive people who had sinned against him, Jesus answered in Matthew 18:22 by saying, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy times seven times." Wow! That's a lot.
And so therefore, I have chosen to forgive those who have wronged me. It doesn't matter if they have asked for my forgiveness. It doesn't matter if they are avoiding me. It doesn't matter if they are denying their offense has even occurred. I have forgiven.
The beauty of forgiveness is that, in reality, it's not just for the wrongdoer. It's also for me. West's lyrics continue with the lines,
"It'll clear the bitterness away.
There is no end to what it's power can do."
Being the forgiver is liberating. Since I've made the choice to forgive these certain people, I no longer lay awake at night stewing. I no longer run their offenses over and over in my mind. I no longer feel anger (some disappointment and hurt, yes, but no anger) when I think of these people or the situations that have occurred. I feel peace.
There's an even bigger idea to grasp here than the forgiveness that I have extended. One final line from the song says, "Help me now to give what You gave me."
Colossians 3:13 tells us, "Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgives you."
If we were to take an intimate look at all the sins of my life (which I think we won't), we could say on a human level that I'm not that terrible of a person. But I assure you, I have done plenty for which I have needed to ask for forgiveness. And I am assured by the blood that Jesus spilled from the cross that all of my indiscretions have been forgiven. Colossians 1: 13 - 14 collaborates this by saying, "For he has rescued us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins."
Even as Jesus was in the throes of his crucifixion, his plea was "Father, forgive them, for they do not know know what they do." (Luke 23:34). And surely no one has ever wronged me in such a way. I have not been beaten, I have not been spat upon, I have not been hung on a cross. If Jesus, even in His life-ending misery can look at the very men who were crucifying Him and extend His forgiveness, how can I do any less for the petty, non-life-ending occurrences that face me?
Forgiveness.
Friday, July 26, 2013
Weeds
My mother-in-law, who loves growing her flowers, once asked me what flowers I was growing in my yard. It was hard not to laugh. Gardening has never been my thing.
As a matter of fact, most of my memories of gardening include me trying to find a way to not have to wade through the grass and plants. I do, however, have one delicious memory of my dad growing peanuts when I was about six or seven when I hid at the end of the row to eat those lovely little raw peanuts.
Then two years ago, my husband decided it would be a great idea for us to start a garden. We started small -- pots and a small plot in our backyard. Then our neighbors told us we could use part of their yard to have a larger garden. I managed to avoid the action last year, but this year even I was roped into our family garden.
Now I see that there are some real benefits to gardening. We not only have been able to grow lots of yummy, nutritious, basically free vegetables, but also we have been able to share the wealth with our neighbors around us. Additionally, our kids are learning to develop a work ethic, it's a great science experiment on the life cycle of plants, we get to be outdoors, and we are working together as a family.
Thus, several weeks ago, I found myself in the garden weeding -- NOT my favorite part. (My favorite part is eating the cherry tomatoes right off the plant -- maybe I haven't grown up all that much). In school, I've taught my kids about the way that some species manage to survive in nature. One of those ways is mimicry. And as I was in the garden one morning I noticed how similar some of the weeds were to the plants that we were actually trying to grow. As I studied the leaves to make sure that I wasn't ripping up our precious pea plants, my mind, as usual, began to wander and a very poignant realization came to me.
Our lives are much like the plants growing in a garden. We choose many people and things in which to invest ourselves. Some of these are quality people and important activities that make us grow. Some of these are people and activities that stump our growth and hold us back from our full potential. In order to reach our full potential, we need to remove the weeds from our lives.
Some weeds are easy to spot. The friends that are always negative and bring you down -- weed. Activities that take time away from family or church -- weed. Gossip -- weed. Materialism -- weed. Idleness -- weed.
Some weeds are not so easy to see such as friends that seem to be on the same page as us, but are quietly manipulating us to do things that aren't right or are sucking away energy that we should be investing somewhere else.
Even worse are the weeds in life that mimic goodness. My little ones often pick "flowers" from the yard to bring in for me. The flowers are just weeds that have popped up, but the kids only see their beauty. Some of the activities in which we invest our time look like pretty flowers but may not be anything more than a distraction from our personal growth. You may teach Sunday School every week, but if you aren't stopping to allow God to work in your life or living your life in such a way that people see godliness in you, that teaching is a weed in your life.
If we don't remove the weeds from the garden, they will continue to grow and flourish. They will choke out the good plants and make the rows so overgrown that we cannot get down them. Likewise, when we do not stop the weeds in our life, we get choked out and cannot reach the potential that we are created to have.
Lately, I've been taking stock of some of the things and people in my life. Unfortunately, there are some of both that I have had to move away from being involved with in my everyday life. And this weeding is not always easy. It's hard when there is someone or something in your life that you're used to having around but that you have to move away from for your own benefit.. It's difficult to realize that your help to someone may really just be a crutch for someone else to lean on and that you may actually be working as an enabler, not a helper. It's difficult when activities that you enjoy doing are no longer the activities that are beneficial to you.
I challenge you to stop and think about the things in your life. Are there weeds that are stunting your growth?
"Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers." Psalms 1: 1 - 3
As a matter of fact, most of my memories of gardening include me trying to find a way to not have to wade through the grass and plants. I do, however, have one delicious memory of my dad growing peanuts when I was about six or seven when I hid at the end of the row to eat those lovely little raw peanuts.
Then two years ago, my husband decided it would be a great idea for us to start a garden. We started small -- pots and a small plot in our backyard. Then our neighbors told us we could use part of their yard to have a larger garden. I managed to avoid the action last year, but this year even I was roped into our family garden.
Now I see that there are some real benefits to gardening. We not only have been able to grow lots of yummy, nutritious, basically free vegetables, but also we have been able to share the wealth with our neighbors around us. Additionally, our kids are learning to develop a work ethic, it's a great science experiment on the life cycle of plants, we get to be outdoors, and we are working together as a family.
Thus, several weeks ago, I found myself in the garden weeding -- NOT my favorite part. (My favorite part is eating the cherry tomatoes right off the plant -- maybe I haven't grown up all that much). In school, I've taught my kids about the way that some species manage to survive in nature. One of those ways is mimicry. And as I was in the garden one morning I noticed how similar some of the weeds were to the plants that we were actually trying to grow. As I studied the leaves to make sure that I wasn't ripping up our precious pea plants, my mind, as usual, began to wander and a very poignant realization came to me.
Our lives are much like the plants growing in a garden. We choose many people and things in which to invest ourselves. Some of these are quality people and important activities that make us grow. Some of these are people and activities that stump our growth and hold us back from our full potential. In order to reach our full potential, we need to remove the weeds from our lives.
Some weeds are easy to spot. The friends that are always negative and bring you down -- weed. Activities that take time away from family or church -- weed. Gossip -- weed. Materialism -- weed. Idleness -- weed.
Some weeds are not so easy to see such as friends that seem to be on the same page as us, but are quietly manipulating us to do things that aren't right or are sucking away energy that we should be investing somewhere else.
Even worse are the weeds in life that mimic goodness. My little ones often pick "flowers" from the yard to bring in for me. The flowers are just weeds that have popped up, but the kids only see their beauty. Some of the activities in which we invest our time look like pretty flowers but may not be anything more than a distraction from our personal growth. You may teach Sunday School every week, but if you aren't stopping to allow God to work in your life or living your life in such a way that people see godliness in you, that teaching is a weed in your life.
If we don't remove the weeds from the garden, they will continue to grow and flourish. They will choke out the good plants and make the rows so overgrown that we cannot get down them. Likewise, when we do not stop the weeds in our life, we get choked out and cannot reach the potential that we are created to have.
Lately, I've been taking stock of some of the things and people in my life. Unfortunately, there are some of both that I have had to move away from being involved with in my everyday life. And this weeding is not always easy. It's hard when there is someone or something in your life that you're used to having around but that you have to move away from for your own benefit.. It's difficult to realize that your help to someone may really just be a crutch for someone else to lean on and that you may actually be working as an enabler, not a helper. It's difficult when activities that you enjoy doing are no longer the activities that are beneficial to you.
I challenge you to stop and think about the things in your life. Are there weeds that are stunting your growth?
"Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers." Psalms 1: 1 - 3
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Weathering the Storm
A couple of weeks ago, my family, sans my husband this year, traveled to Missouri for our annual church-building mission trip. I thought myself to be very fortunate because I was the lucky one -- out of the 120 crew members on the trip, my three little kids and I got to skip the agony of sleeping on leaky air mattresses and got to stay in a small camper that one of the local church members had lent out for our use.
And it was good. All the ladies complained of freezing at night -- I controlled my own air. I got to sleep on a real mattress. I did have to traipse inside to take a shower since there was no hot water, but that was no biggie.
Then the last night of the trip came, and with it, a mighty thunderstorm. The gusty wind woke me up about one in the morning, and I lay in the bed watching the lightning flash outside the windows. I listened to the thunder. I felt the wind pushing the trailer's side. I kept hearing this slicing whistle of a wind that really freaked me out --- I later realized it was a train that had stopped on the track just across the street. My three little ones snoozed as I rocked in the wind.
And then, as my mama's mind often does, I started to plot out what to do if things got really bad. I started walking myself through "my plan" of how to get the kids out of the trailer and into the main building. This was a feat that would have forced me to leave little ones alone and get drenched in the process. I couldn't really come up with a great plan and wasn't so sure that I even needed to get us out. I finally decided that since I had to be up at 4:30 to prepare breakfast for everyone, I really needed to just get some sleep.
So I prayed. I told God that I just needed him to give me peace and rest. And he did. The next thing I knew, my alarm was beeping for me to get up, and things were clear outside.
I was never in the danger that I felt I was in. But my control freak tendencies took over, and I started to obsess about the "what if's" like I often do in life. In the dark of the night, when I felt that I didn't have much control at all, it was easy to let go and let God take the reins.
I have two favorite Bible verses:
Jeremiah 29:11 > "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
and
Philippians 4:13 > "I can do everything through Him who give me strength."
These are my life rafts. When life veers out of control, and I can't see the upside, I cling to these words to remember that God is with me. Just as He was in that tiny camper. But not only is He with me, He was there before I ever get myself into sticky messes, and if I allow His plan to come to fruition (rather than trying to change it myself), He will walk me through it on a path that will make me a stronger person.
But what about when the storms of life become more figurative?
What about when there is conflict that I just don't know how to solve?
What about when I can't quiet my mind to stop and listen to what God is trying to tell me to do?
The winds of these storms are blowing in me now. There are some things that I have been praying fervently for all summer, but now that I see how God's will is panning out, I don't know if I'm strong enough to accept His will.
I've been here before... I prayed and prayed for something, those prayers were answered, and the path that the answers came on were slippery at best. I remember kneeling on my son's floor and crying out, "Really God? THIS is how you answered me?"
So there's this knot in my chest. This "something" that won't release me. I have spent hours on the phone or huddled in the hallway at church with several of my dear friends trying to find the light at the end of the foggy tunnel. And I'm split. I know what I think I should do, but it's becoming pretty clear to me, that what I think I should do may not be what God is telling me to do. And for me, this is where the thunder and lightning strike up. I very well believe that God may be about to make me walk on a slick, messy, muddy path that is going to make me quite uncomfortable.
And I wonder.... will I weather this storm?
And it was good. All the ladies complained of freezing at night -- I controlled my own air. I got to sleep on a real mattress. I did have to traipse inside to take a shower since there was no hot water, but that was no biggie.
Then the last night of the trip came, and with it, a mighty thunderstorm. The gusty wind woke me up about one in the morning, and I lay in the bed watching the lightning flash outside the windows. I listened to the thunder. I felt the wind pushing the trailer's side. I kept hearing this slicing whistle of a wind that really freaked me out --- I later realized it was a train that had stopped on the track just across the street. My three little ones snoozed as I rocked in the wind.
And then, as my mama's mind often does, I started to plot out what to do if things got really bad. I started walking myself through "my plan" of how to get the kids out of the trailer and into the main building. This was a feat that would have forced me to leave little ones alone and get drenched in the process. I couldn't really come up with a great plan and wasn't so sure that I even needed to get us out. I finally decided that since I had to be up at 4:30 to prepare breakfast for everyone, I really needed to just get some sleep.
So I prayed. I told God that I just needed him to give me peace and rest. And he did. The next thing I knew, my alarm was beeping for me to get up, and things were clear outside.
I was never in the danger that I felt I was in. But my control freak tendencies took over, and I started to obsess about the "what if's" like I often do in life. In the dark of the night, when I felt that I didn't have much control at all, it was easy to let go and let God take the reins.
I have two favorite Bible verses:
Jeremiah 29:11 > "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
and
Philippians 4:13 > "I can do everything through Him who give me strength."
These are my life rafts. When life veers out of control, and I can't see the upside, I cling to these words to remember that God is with me. Just as He was in that tiny camper. But not only is He with me, He was there before I ever get myself into sticky messes, and if I allow His plan to come to fruition (rather than trying to change it myself), He will walk me through it on a path that will make me a stronger person.
But what about when the storms of life become more figurative?
What about when there is conflict that I just don't know how to solve?
What about when I can't quiet my mind to stop and listen to what God is trying to tell me to do?
The winds of these storms are blowing in me now. There are some things that I have been praying fervently for all summer, but now that I see how God's will is panning out, I don't know if I'm strong enough to accept His will.
I've been here before... I prayed and prayed for something, those prayers were answered, and the path that the answers came on were slippery at best. I remember kneeling on my son's floor and crying out, "Really God? THIS is how you answered me?"
So there's this knot in my chest. This "something" that won't release me. I have spent hours on the phone or huddled in the hallway at church with several of my dear friends trying to find the light at the end of the foggy tunnel. And I'm split. I know what I think I should do, but it's becoming pretty clear to me, that what I think I should do may not be what God is telling me to do. And for me, this is where the thunder and lightning strike up. I very well believe that God may be about to make me walk on a slick, messy, muddy path that is going to make me quite uncomfortable.
And I wonder.... will I weather this storm?
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Healing Prayers & Salvation
About eight years ago, I went to my obstetrician for a routine ultrasound. It turned out to be anything but ordinary. The technician found calcifications under the baby's diaphragm and near her bladder. I then went on to see a specialist and found myself in a room with a genetic counselor telling me that my baby might have toxioplasmosis, or she might have "meslisfdjalsjidsafj" (Yeah, I never did learn what that one was.), or she might have Down's Syndrome. The general consensus became that was going to have Down's.
I refused to have an amniocentesis. At the time, the miscarriage risk was 1 in 100, and I was just coming off of two miscarriages. I was not risking another one. The specialist made the mistake of telling me that if I did not have the amnio, I would not be able to terminate as I was already at 20 weeks. I went off on a tirade and will not disgrace myself by repeating the things that I said since they were, er, a little less than nice. The gist of it was, God gave me this baby and only God would take her away from me.
So I set out of that doctor's appointment determined to learn what I could about Down's and how to care for a child with Down's to help her live as fulfilling a life as possible. I always thought that I could not have a special needs child -- I didn't think I had the patience; I didn't have the strength. I had even convinced myself that I had lost my two other babies because there was something wrong with them, and God knew I couldn't handle it. But immediately, this attitude changed. I was determined that I would find the patience and strength to raise this baby as well.
During my first two pregnancies, I would talk to the babies all of the time. Jayla would flip when she head me talk -- even when I was reading aloud to my classes which made my students watch my stomach more than they listened to me. This time, though, I could not talk to the baby. Every time I would try to tell her about the things we were going to do or about her big brother and sister, I would find myself praying over her. I had an hour commute to work, so for two hours a day I would pray over the baby -- every day. I did get some strange looks from other drivers because I was "talking to myself" but that was irrelevant. I pleaded with God that He would heal my baby, or if that was not His will, that He would give me the strength, knowledge, and patience to be the best mother to her that I could be. My main prayer was that I did not want her to suffer physically, emotionally, mentally, or socially. I knew the cruel world she was being born into, and even in utero, I desperately wanted to protect her.
Close to the end of my pregnancy, my doctor told me that it looked as if everything was going to be okay. And on August 11, 2005, Emma Grace was born... perfect. When our pediatrician came in and told me all of her Apgar scores and details, I timidly asked, "What about Down's?". Dr. Klein looked at me startled and said, "There's no sign of Down's. Why would you ask that?"
I believe with all my heart that God healed my baby. I saw the ultrasound. I saw the marks that weren't supposed to be there. I also saw the changes in her ultrasound as we progressed in the pregnancy. And I certainly saw her perfect little baby girl body when she was born.
I promised God that I would to my best to honor Him and His healing blessings by raising my little girl with the superior goal of introducing her to His kingdom. I even gave her the middle name Grace because it is by His grace that we have her. I dedicated her at our church and I set out on a path to introduce to her God and His mighty powers.
This past Sunday, Emma told me that she thought she was ready to ask Jesus into her heart. We went into her room and sat on her bed and I walked through the plan of salvation with her again. Then she prayed and asked Jesus to forgive her of her sins, to be her Savior, and to give her eternal life. I then prayed over my little girl and tearfully thanked God that He had called her to Him.
Next week, Emma will be baptized in the same church that I was baptized in when I was 7. Thirty years after my salvation was made public, Emma's will be as well.
Yet, i'm not done. Actually, I'm just starting over again because I am now tasked with teaching this sweet one how to follow Jesus and live a life for Him in a world that is NOT about Jesus or His kingdom. Thank goodness God is always by my side.
I refused to have an amniocentesis. At the time, the miscarriage risk was 1 in 100, and I was just coming off of two miscarriages. I was not risking another one. The specialist made the mistake of telling me that if I did not have the amnio, I would not be able to terminate as I was already at 20 weeks. I went off on a tirade and will not disgrace myself by repeating the things that I said since they were, er, a little less than nice. The gist of it was, God gave me this baby and only God would take her away from me.
So I set out of that doctor's appointment determined to learn what I could about Down's and how to care for a child with Down's to help her live as fulfilling a life as possible. I always thought that I could not have a special needs child -- I didn't think I had the patience; I didn't have the strength. I had even convinced myself that I had lost my two other babies because there was something wrong with them, and God knew I couldn't handle it. But immediately, this attitude changed. I was determined that I would find the patience and strength to raise this baby as well.
During my first two pregnancies, I would talk to the babies all of the time. Jayla would flip when she head me talk -- even when I was reading aloud to my classes which made my students watch my stomach more than they listened to me. This time, though, I could not talk to the baby. Every time I would try to tell her about the things we were going to do or about her big brother and sister, I would find myself praying over her. I had an hour commute to work, so for two hours a day I would pray over the baby -- every day. I did get some strange looks from other drivers because I was "talking to myself" but that was irrelevant. I pleaded with God that He would heal my baby, or if that was not His will, that He would give me the strength, knowledge, and patience to be the best mother to her that I could be. My main prayer was that I did not want her to suffer physically, emotionally, mentally, or socially. I knew the cruel world she was being born into, and even in utero, I desperately wanted to protect her.
Close to the end of my pregnancy, my doctor told me that it looked as if everything was going to be okay. And on August 11, 2005, Emma Grace was born... perfect. When our pediatrician came in and told me all of her Apgar scores and details, I timidly asked, "What about Down's?". Dr. Klein looked at me startled and said, "There's no sign of Down's. Why would you ask that?"
I believe with all my heart that God healed my baby. I saw the ultrasound. I saw the marks that weren't supposed to be there. I also saw the changes in her ultrasound as we progressed in the pregnancy. And I certainly saw her perfect little baby girl body when she was born.
I promised God that I would to my best to honor Him and His healing blessings by raising my little girl with the superior goal of introducing her to His kingdom. I even gave her the middle name Grace because it is by His grace that we have her. I dedicated her at our church and I set out on a path to introduce to her God and His mighty powers.
This past Sunday, Emma told me that she thought she was ready to ask Jesus into her heart. We went into her room and sat on her bed and I walked through the plan of salvation with her again. Then she prayed and asked Jesus to forgive her of her sins, to be her Savior, and to give her eternal life. I then prayed over my little girl and tearfully thanked God that He had called her to Him.
Next week, Emma will be baptized in the same church that I was baptized in when I was 7. Thirty years after my salvation was made public, Emma's will be as well.
Yet, i'm not done. Actually, I'm just starting over again because I am now tasked with teaching this sweet one how to follow Jesus and live a life for Him in a world that is NOT about Jesus or His kingdom. Thank goodness God is always by my side.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Changing Dialogue
Four months ago, we made a big change in our household: we kicked our addiction to drugs out the door. No, not the illicit kind. We haven't been smoking pot or crack, and the only coke in our house comes in a red can (and yes, I know, I should kick that too). The drugs we were addicted to were the ones on the counter: the cough syrups, ibuprofen, naproxen, and loads and loads of sinus and allergy medications that were taking over our space. It was a radical change, but one that has made an incredible difference in our lifestyle and our dialogue around home.
It all started with my freaky friend Melissa (who gets the nickname only because I love her so dearly she merits getting a nickname) who has been using homepoathic treatments in her family forever and had been trying to get me to do the same. If you know me at all, you know that I do NOT go with the flow. I am not a follower, and I am not going to try something just because you say it works. I have to see it to believe it. And I've done just that.
In September, we made a trip back to our beloved Pensacola and stayed with Melissa. My five year old, Sean, had had a cough for months that we were treating with a honey cough syrup but that just would not go away. Melissa used one of her natural essential oils on him, a blend called RC, and it worked! He stopped coughing. So I decided, upon her suggestion, to try using lavender oil for my allergies. Understand... you say plant, and I start to sneeze and my eyes start to water. I have taken just about every prescription known to man and almost every OTC sinus medication as well. Some worked, some didn't. Some worked but left me feeling too groggy to accomplish anything. I began using the lavender and noticed an immediate change - not just in my allergy symptoms, but also with the headaches that I had been having all of the time. I have gone from taking allergy medicine two or three times a day to not taking it at all. I have not had one pill since the day I started using the lavender.
Western medicine has its place. I am not going into surgery without it. And sometimes we do have infections and such that need an antibiotic. But how many times are we pumping ourselves with synthetic substances that are not truly making us well? They are just masking our symptoms and often making us dependent on the drugs.
So, I've fallen. Hook... line... sinker. I am a convert. So much so, that I am not only now using sixteen different oils, but I am also working as an independent consultant for Young Living, a company that prides itself in using the highest quality plants and processes to extract the purest oils to promote healthy living. These are the substances that were used in Biblical times when ancient doctors couldn't give you a prescription for Zyrtec or hydrocodone but could use the natural substances that God created for healing. In his creation, God gave us EVERYTHING we need for life -- that includes the plants and fruits that we can use to stay healthy.
I guess I have even become "freaky" myself. I've begun to introduce Young Living products to the people around me. I have a dear friend with asthma that was out of options medicinally. I gave her RC and she is chugging through this winter healthier than she has been in years. She's beginning to stock up her cabinet with essential oils -- though she tells people that I've given her snake oil. I deserve it... it's tit for tat for calling Melissa freaky for so long. You know, what goes around comes around.
In any case, the dialogue in our family has changed radically.
Have a headache? Grab some peppermint.
Muscles cramping after a hard day at work? Grab some marjoram.
Shouldn't have eaten that fried food? Grab the peppermint (again).
Want to play outside but not WITH the bugs? Rub on some citronella.
Stressed out? Love the lavender.
Want the kids to calm down? Grab the cedarwood. (Except with my 3-year-old Abbie-- for whom this seems to have the REVERSE effect because she is a special, joyful child in her own right and must always go against the flow and do her own thing.)
The most signficant thing to me is that I am no longer putting crap in my kids' bodies to try to make them feel better. No more ingredients that I can't pronounce in our medication. We are using a dialogue that makes us feel better than we have in a long time and it's all natural.
And the cutest thing is anytime anyone complains about any hurt, ailment, etc., Abbie says, "You need mell-a-loo-ka."
If you're interested in changing your medical dialogue, check out Youngliving.com or contact me for more information. Here's hoping everyone can feel as great as we do!
It all started with my freaky friend Melissa (who gets the nickname only because I love her so dearly she merits getting a nickname) who has been using homepoathic treatments in her family forever and had been trying to get me to do the same. If you know me at all, you know that I do NOT go with the flow. I am not a follower, and I am not going to try something just because you say it works. I have to see it to believe it. And I've done just that.
In September, we made a trip back to our beloved Pensacola and stayed with Melissa. My five year old, Sean, had had a cough for months that we were treating with a honey cough syrup but that just would not go away. Melissa used one of her natural essential oils on him, a blend called RC, and it worked! He stopped coughing. So I decided, upon her suggestion, to try using lavender oil for my allergies. Understand... you say plant, and I start to sneeze and my eyes start to water. I have taken just about every prescription known to man and almost every OTC sinus medication as well. Some worked, some didn't. Some worked but left me feeling too groggy to accomplish anything. I began using the lavender and noticed an immediate change - not just in my allergy symptoms, but also with the headaches that I had been having all of the time. I have gone from taking allergy medicine two or three times a day to not taking it at all. I have not had one pill since the day I started using the lavender.
Western medicine has its place. I am not going into surgery without it. And sometimes we do have infections and such that need an antibiotic. But how many times are we pumping ourselves with synthetic substances that are not truly making us well? They are just masking our symptoms and often making us dependent on the drugs.
So, I've fallen. Hook... line... sinker. I am a convert. So much so, that I am not only now using sixteen different oils, but I am also working as an independent consultant for Young Living, a company that prides itself in using the highest quality plants and processes to extract the purest oils to promote healthy living. These are the substances that were used in Biblical times when ancient doctors couldn't give you a prescription for Zyrtec or hydrocodone but could use the natural substances that God created for healing. In his creation, God gave us EVERYTHING we need for life -- that includes the plants and fruits that we can use to stay healthy.
I guess I have even become "freaky" myself. I've begun to introduce Young Living products to the people around me. I have a dear friend with asthma that was out of options medicinally. I gave her RC and she is chugging through this winter healthier than she has been in years. She's beginning to stock up her cabinet with essential oils -- though she tells people that I've given her snake oil. I deserve it... it's tit for tat for calling Melissa freaky for so long. You know, what goes around comes around.
In any case, the dialogue in our family has changed radically.
Have a headache? Grab some peppermint.
Muscles cramping after a hard day at work? Grab some marjoram.
Shouldn't have eaten that fried food? Grab the peppermint (again).
Want to play outside but not WITH the bugs? Rub on some citronella.
Stressed out? Love the lavender.
Want the kids to calm down? Grab the cedarwood. (Except with my 3-year-old Abbie-- for whom this seems to have the REVERSE effect because she is a special, joyful child in her own right and must always go against the flow and do her own thing.)
The most signficant thing to me is that I am no longer putting crap in my kids' bodies to try to make them feel better. No more ingredients that I can't pronounce in our medication. We are using a dialogue that makes us feel better than we have in a long time and it's all natural.
And the cutest thing is anytime anyone complains about any hurt, ailment, etc., Abbie says, "You need mell-a-loo-ka."
If you're interested in changing your medical dialogue, check out Youngliving.com or contact me for more information. Here's hoping everyone can feel as great as we do!
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Contemplating Creation
Last week, we set out on our annual Mississippi Nailbenders mission trip. We traveled a little lighter this year allowing our older two to ride on the bus with the rest of the group while we tucked the three little ones into the backseat of my dad's car and set out on a road trip. And this indeed was a road trip. It was by far the longest drive I have ever made. Stephen, the "little kids," and I drove the first day to Stephen's mom's house in north Mississippi and then 12 hours the next day to destination Strasburg, Virginia.
I have traveled in the mountains before. I have thought that the mountains were very pretty. I have appreciated that God created the mountains. But the enormity of it all struck me this trip.
Early on Saturday, we drove through Huntsville, Alabama, and saw the rockets at the space center. Stephen commented about how amazing it is that man created something that could shoot into space, have half of it burn away, and another half that would later come back to earth. I agreed -- there were some people a lot smarter than me that put all that together.
We spent the whole day traveling through the mountains of north Alabama, Chattanooga, Gatlinburg, and into Virginia. At some point -- probably with our fiftieth comment or so on how beautiful each mountain was, I had a new awakening.
(between Strasburg, Virginia and Washington D.C.)
I have known the story of creation from Genesis forever. Certainly those stories were told to me as early as preschool days. And I've always thought, "Wow, that's neat. God created everything in six days." But think about what he really did.
As we drove over one particular hill, the sun shone on the tops of several other mountains, the clouds rested serenely on the tops, and the trees bathed the side in green. And I had an "ah-ha" moment. Stephen had commented on the rockets and how amazing it was that man had come up with that technology. And it is amazing. But how long did that take? At least several thousands of years after creation. But how long did it take God to create space and earth and everything within it? Six little days.
Six little days in which He spoke and things happened. "Let there be light" and this complex ball of burning gases took form in the sky to create the sun that gives us light and warmth. "Let there be water," and this complex system of freshwater and salt water combined and separated worldwide. "Let there be land," and in a moment a complex division of deserts and mountains and flat plains just appeared. "Let there be man." and a complex system of organs and blood circulation and communication to the whole body by one little brain just happened. It just happened because He spoke with His mighty voice and it was done.
The brilliant pinks and purples and oranges of a sunset, the gentle rolling of waves upon a beach, the endless stretch of dunes in the desert sand, the simplicity of a rainbow, the brilliant hues of autumn leaves, the tiny features on a newborn's face. It all was created by a spoken word.
We serve such a mighty God. I think about all the struggles and discomforts that I face and all the mole hills that I can turn into mountains, and I wonder, why don't I just turn all of that over to God. If He can create our whole existence with the beauty and complexities that He did, can He not handle all of the messes and ridiculousness that we create in our lives?
I walk away from this trip realzing that not only is His creation awesome and inspiring, it is a reminder that He is in control of everything.
I have traveled in the mountains before. I have thought that the mountains were very pretty. I have appreciated that God created the mountains. But the enormity of it all struck me this trip.
Early on Saturday, we drove through Huntsville, Alabama, and saw the rockets at the space center. Stephen commented about how amazing it is that man created something that could shoot into space, have half of it burn away, and another half that would later come back to earth. I agreed -- there were some people a lot smarter than me that put all that together.
We spent the whole day traveling through the mountains of north Alabama, Chattanooga, Gatlinburg, and into Virginia. At some point -- probably with our fiftieth comment or so on how beautiful each mountain was, I had a new awakening.
I have known the story of creation from Genesis forever. Certainly those stories were told to me as early as preschool days. And I've always thought, "Wow, that's neat. God created everything in six days." But think about what he really did.
As we drove over one particular hill, the sun shone on the tops of several other mountains, the clouds rested serenely on the tops, and the trees bathed the side in green. And I had an "ah-ha" moment. Stephen had commented on the rockets and how amazing it was that man had come up with that technology. And it is amazing. But how long did that take? At least several thousands of years after creation. But how long did it take God to create space and earth and everything within it? Six little days.
Six little days in which He spoke and things happened. "Let there be light" and this complex ball of burning gases took form in the sky to create the sun that gives us light and warmth. "Let there be water," and this complex system of freshwater and salt water combined and separated worldwide. "Let there be land," and in a moment a complex division of deserts and mountains and flat plains just appeared. "Let there be man." and a complex system of organs and blood circulation and communication to the whole body by one little brain just happened. It just happened because He spoke with His mighty voice and it was done.
The brilliant pinks and purples and oranges of a sunset, the gentle rolling of waves upon a beach, the endless stretch of dunes in the desert sand, the simplicity of a rainbow, the brilliant hues of autumn leaves, the tiny features on a newborn's face. It all was created by a spoken word.
We serve such a mighty God. I think about all the struggles and discomforts that I face and all the mole hills that I can turn into mountains, and I wonder, why don't I just turn all of that over to God. If He can create our whole existence with the beauty and complexities that He did, can He not handle all of the messes and ridiculousness that we create in our lives?
I walk away from this trip realzing that not only is His creation awesome and inspiring, it is a reminder that He is in control of everything.
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