second chances

Twenty years ago, I was placed in the back of a cop car for trying to smuggle contraband out of the store. It was the lowest place I have ever been in my addiction and while I wish I could say that that day was a turning point, it wasn’t.

Today I was leaving the store and remembered that day like it was yesterday. All of the regrets came flooding back and satan tried to convince me that I am just as broken now as I was then.

He reminded me of all the times that I had let my parents down. Let my church down. Let my community down. But mostly, let myself down. Let’s face it, when all we think we are is just a pile of wasted breath, satan has us right where he wants us.

Defeated. Broken. A lost cause.

As I was loading up my stuff, I looked across the parking lot where a woman I had recently prayed for came running up. When I first met her, she walked with a limp and could only reach out with one hand, the result of a stroke that nearly took her life. Yet today, she was moving with more fervor than anyone I had ever see.

She had a woman with a small child with her and asked me to pray for them just as I had prayed many times for her. They too, were facing a trial in their lives. There in the parking lot, three desperate people who might have told you that their lives were hopeless at one time, had an encounter with the spirit of the Living God.

The same living God that told the lame to walk. To see the captives free from their chains of addiction. To comfort a mourning mother whose child was sick and needed a touch from Jesus.

He is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. He is still restoring lives. He is still defeating the weak one. And he is still calling those of us who may have discounted the use of our broken lives to tell of a God who is able to rewrite the history of a broken world, because that’s what he does.

What satan meant for evil twenty years ago, God turned around. And now instead of telling this story through the eyes of an addict, I gladly tell it from the heart of a lost child who was relentlessly pursued by God and given a new life to lift high the name of Jesus.

His is the kingdom. His is the power. His is the glory. Forever, amen.

A Reminder

Sometimes I think that God gives us second chances, and I am so thankful for that!

Last night as I fell asleep, I had the best intentions. I have really been pressing in to God, especially during this this season as we lead up to Easter. I am immersed in books, scriptures, devotionals...You name it, and I am doing it! But this morning as I get up and look around, I see sick kids. I see a rushed morning schedule. I see preparations that fall on me as a mom and feel like I am not doing enough. I am slightly overwhelmed in the middle of a morning that is supposed to be spent nestled up with the Lord for my “Him time,” yet here I am. Discouraged.

I know it is popular in the Christian belief to declare “God has a plan for your life,” and I do believe that. I say that to people all of the time! But today, God is reminding me that yes, he has a plan for my life, but he also has a plan for this day. Am I walking in relationship with my Heavenly Father? I think and hope so! But what about right now? As I sit here and type this, amidst sick kids and a dirty house and a hectic schedule?

This post is my attempt at taking back my day. I had originally started to pour this out to my small group, but apparently GroupMe won’t let me say this much. So you get to hear it...ha!

Today is our pantry day at work, and that means that the sidewalk to my office will have people lined up all the way down it, waiting to get food for their families. Today I am not going to simply walk inside and start getting busy, I am going to be intentional about the people I see, greet, hug, pray with, cry with, encourage...Because maybe I don’t know what God’s plan is for my life, I know what he would have me do today, and that is where it starts (well, as soon as I warm up some chicken noodle soup and hot tea for my sick man child, anyway).

Friends, I guess that what I am trying to say is that it is easy to get sidetracked by the things that have nothing to do with our plans that God has for us. Being intentional about looking up from our own circumstances and seeking the face of God will oftentimes deliver us to our place of the day, where the Great I Am is trying to get our attention about the things that he has prepared us for, so then it becomes his day.

And the best part? That little stuff doesn’t seem so big anymore, and more times than not, the people that we think we are sent to encourage for the day, usually being the ones to encourage us.

Be blessed! This is the day that the Lord has made and I will rejoice and be glad in it!

prayer of a child

It was the prayer of a precious little girl that caused my meltdown tonight. Staring into the faces of some of my closest friends, I fell apart. It took everything in me to get through the end of the prayer, and I thank God that when I did, I had a screen full of brothers and sisters looking back at me with love and concern in their eyes. There was no way to hide how I was feeling, but it honestly took me by surprise. How could I not notice?

Before Covid-19, depression commercials were not that uncommon. I would watch them and think to myself, "Geez, this commercial is depressing!" and I would dismiss its message. I now realize that the diagnosis itself falls on a spectrum that is so wide that one who is simply "having a bad day" falls under the same category as someone who is having thoughts of suicide. It is such an ugly word, and I hate the connotation.

But wait a second. How could this have happened to me? I mean, I'm Sarah. I love life! I love to laugh. I love to smile. I love to make other people smile! I sing in the grocery isle. And sometimes, I may even do a little dance when no one is looking. I find refuge in my God who has saved me and given me a new life, one of abundance! And of grace, and mercy, and true joy. He has given me a reason to rejoice, so why am I crying? Why is it hard to get out of bed? And to stop taking my anxiousness out on my husband, and kids?

Because, well, life. These walls. This home schooling. This solo existence. I thank God for the ways he continues to use me to reach out to the hurting, and the homeless, and the weary. It gives me such enjoyment, and its like fresh air in my lungs. But then everyone walks off in their own direction, and the sound of silence is loud in my ears again.

The truth is that I am no less of a human, or a Christian for that matter, for having this cloud above my head right now. For breaking down and admitting that I miss the normal. I miss my Sunday school class. I miss my work family. I miss worshiping with my church family. I miss my quirky pastor.

I miss normal.

But still I say, look, surely my God is doing a new thing. He shows me that everyday. He gives me a reason to smile, even when it hurts a little. He is the lifter of my head off of my pillow, and the refresher of my soul, even in the desert. I will sing his praises, even when no one is around to hear them. I will thank him for restoring my mind, and rejoice for the dear friends he has given me who love me during my brokenness, and refuse to stay silent as they hear me utter the words, "It's been hard."

Dedicated to Hannah, for her prayer that touched my heart tonight, and the rest of my small group family.

Last day with Joanna

Today I said to her, “You know I love you, though!” as she left my office. I never would have imagined that less than an hour later, I would be telling the paramedics that yes, I knew who she was. I would be standing in the middle of a scene that resulted in the loss of my friends’ life. That I would be rehashing the conversations that led up to this moment where I would no longer be able to hear her voice again, except the voice messages she left me every day, sometimes two or three a day.

Gone just like that.

And then the speculations. My God, how people can be so cruel. People suggesting that maybe she was high; or maybe she deserved it because of where she was standing on the bypass; or perhaps she was just an afterthought because she was homeless and not worth a second thought.

Well she was to me. She had a name. She had family that loved her. She had friends that she would protect, no questions asked. And I was one of them.

after Joanna

...But then she rolled over and looked out of her window and up to the sky and realized something. No matter what had happened in the last few days, or how much she had cried and mourned, today was a new day. A new sunrise had given way to all of the pain she could now release, and begin to understand what he meant by the kind of peace that He could give. That it hadn’t been a peace like the world gives, because the world had hurt her heart. But peace that could be found in him. She realized that for every tear she had released, He was counting them, and they mattered so much.

For today, she truly understands what it meant when she heard the words, “Oh death, where is your sting,” because the One whose death mattered most had given her life again. It couldn’t undo all that had happened, still she found peace.

Praise God. He’s alive.

desperate

I’m just so desperate.

I’m desperate to see God revive His church. I’m desperate to see His people enter back into their church buildings; not because that’s where He is, but because of their want to share what He has been doing in their lives as they stay tucked away due to Covid.

I’m desperate to embrace a new norm, because it has shown me that it was never about the church building, rather about being the church.

I’m desperate to tell others of a God who poured into me during my loneliest hours and spoke.

I’m desperate to tell the story of how God never wanted anything but love for His people, but used this time to revive a generation who is crying out to Him.

I’m desperate for Him.

pantry

Week 2 is in the books, y’all.

Call me unoriginal, but I found myself at the Storehouse again yesterday, bagging goodies for the folks that came through the pantry and praying over them as they left. I am so blessed that God brought me to this place where the spirit of God is so thick that it could be cut with a knife. I am so blessed by this ministry and thank God for its existence.

Now that school is out for the summer, there have been lots of little ones coming through. Of course you know I am loving that though it does seem to bring some mixed emotions as they rip into the bag of food that they just picked from the shelf; happy that they have some food to eat yet somber wondering what they would have done if places like the Storehouse, Soul Food mission cafe, and Bethlehem House didn’t exist.

God, please continue to bless these ministries as they reach out to people who need to know that they are loved and that their life is important to not only the community of Conway, but moreso to you.

The best story of the day belongs to a young man who is 8 years old. *Jackson was there with his mom and after I had bagged up their groceries, I asked mom if there was anything specific she wanted to pray about and this sweet little voice said, “Pray? What does that mean?” As I explained to him what it meant to pray and how God hears us and how we are never alone, I asked him if he knew who Jesus was. He replied, “I’m not sure. I think I have heard of him before but would you tell me anyway?” With that question, the heart of this children’s ministry volunteer jumped with excitement as I told him that God had a son for us because he loves us so much and that Jesus was his name and he wanted to be our friend. I told *Jackson that God would listen to us as we prayed and sometimes he would talk back and he got real quiet and put his hand up to his ear and said, “I don’t hear anything,” and I said that sometimes he talks to us when we pray to him so Jackson said, “Well, let’s pray then!”

The prayers of this sweet little boy will forever be in my heart. He said,” God,I don’t really know who you are but this lady says that you had a son named Jesus who loves me and I think I would like it if you would live in my heart and leave with me today. I’d also like it if you would give me some Pokemon stuff, too.”

The tear that slipped down my cheek as Jackson prayed the first prayer of his life quickly gave way to a chuckle as I realized how important the faith of a child is to our Father. This week at VBS at my church, Conway First church of the Nazarene, we gave the kids in attendance a yellow bracelet that reads “Watch for God.” I gave mine to Jackson and as he left I thought about how good God was to allow me to see him move in Jackson’s heart. Scripture says, “My heart says of you, ‘Seek his face.’ Your face, Lord, I will seek.” (Psalm 27:8) When we seek God, he always gives us more than enough of his spirit.

I hear a lot of “Bible belt” talk and how because of where we live in this nation, we automatically must know who Jesus is and how to pray, but that is not true. God bless the missionaries that travel to the far ends of the world; also bless the ones that I am fortunate enough to have met along this path that God has led me; there are truly some amazing missionaries in Conway, Arkansas.

If you are willing to pray for *Jackson and his mom, thank you so much. If you are like Jackson and want a relationship with Jesus, please let me or someone else know. You can send me a message via messenger, or come boldly as you are and in the comments let me know.

Love to you all.