Come to the altar.

The weekend of the children's Christmas performance at church is always a monumental one. The seats fill up with expectant parents and extended family members who can hardly hold their excitement as the children who have been practicing their lines for months prepare for the day of delivery. Scenes of a manger beckon to be surrounded by the baby Jesus and the camaraderie that he brings. The children take a bow as the audience delivers a standing ovation and the director and and her helpers take a deep breath of relief that no child fell off the stage or needed to go to the bathroom moments before delivering lines. It is truly a magical service.

After the program, the children occupied two rows reserved for them until their parents picked them up after a short message was delivered. It was during this time that the true magic of the service happened.  I will say that usually when the kids are in the service, it is during worship and because they are seated far from where I stand on the stage, I usually don't see if this is a regular occurance or not. But today, God gave me a  gift that came in the form of children in complete surrender to the beckon of the altar. The first time it happened, the pastor led his message with a prayer and the children stood up from their seats and lined the altar with their bodies, and the heavens with their praises. It happened a second time when the pastor prayed the service out, albeit a smaller group the second time around. I praised God for allowing these kids to push past the common altar call and simply dash forward as if to say, "I am here Lord. Your servant is listening." Sound familiar? (Story of Samuel in the Bible)

"Prayer is not asking. Prayer is putting oneself in the hands of God, at his disposition, and listening to His voice in the depths of our hearts." (Mother Teresa)

Many times, I pray about the things I see a lot. I pray that God would deliver the addict from the sickness that they suffer from. I pray for the soldier who suffers with PTSD who is trying to support a family while dealing wih the trauma of things from the past.  I pray for the family who wonders where they will spend Christmas. There are plenty of things that I lay at the cross daily and I thank God for always hearing my prayers, even when my unbelieving mind struggles to believe what my heart knows to be true.

But today, I learned from the smallest prayer warriors, that I need the faith of a child. The kind of faith that comes with no filters, no expectations; just simply the urge to throw myself at the foot of the cross and bask in the glory of the God who calls me there.

At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?”

He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.

  — Matthew 18:1-5

His plan is better.

"To have God speak to the heart is a majestic experience, and experience that people may miss if they monopolize the conversation and never pause to hear God's responses." (Charles Stanley)

Many of you know that for the past few months, we have anxiously held out for the right job to come along for my husband. Stepping out in faith to continue serving in a ministry role that we had established at home, he boldly resigned his day job and set his sights on the calling we had received and began looking for employment elsewhere, believing that God was being clear about the path he had marked out for us. Within a week of giving notice to his employer, a call came from the Ministry center about a potential position that God would eventually set me in. Four months later, when people say to me, "How is your new job going," I continue to answer, "It is a personal gift from God that I believe  brought me to the Conway Ministry Center." I still get teary eyed thinking about how I still feel chosen to be where I am and adopted as I have been from my new work family. 

I will admit that I had to contain my excitement when I received a call from my friend asking me if I would consider applying for the position because I simply wasn't looking for anything different. With my husband submitting applications everywhere, telling him that I was praying about the potential for a new job was awkward to say the least. I remember uttering during prayer, "but God, we were looking for him a job, remember?" I would later give God the praise for placing me where He could use me yet still worry about Jarett. Looking back, I see God in every part of the equation, but during the time, there were so many questions and concerns that I had. What did God have in store for Jarett, and for my family? 

A few months went by and finally, we thought we had secured a really good job with the government. It would be a great opportunity for our family and we would finally be able to regain some of the financial stability that had suffered while we sought employment. Just as we we had stretched as far as we could financially, we learned that the postal job would not be a possibility because of a misdemeanor charge that stemmed from something nineteen years prior. We were essentially back to square one.  We focused on a children's ministry opportunity that had been presented to us a few months prior and while the answer at the time wasn't clear, the God we believe in was. 

"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,  and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20)

The night that we were going to be leaving to go and work this children's ministry event, Jarett received a call from a friend of ours, wanting to meet over coffee and discuss something when we got back. It was that night that we received an offer that would change the downward financial spiral that we were embarking upon. Not long after Jarett began working from home with the new company that he was now independently contracted with, our son got sick. It has been through the many prayers that I am now able to recognize God's finger prints on everything once again.

It started the week before Thanksgiving with a simple cough. The coughing led to throwing up, and then fevers, and then body aches (mostly in the rib section from the constant cough) and then headaches. What appeared to be the flu has never been diagnosed as more than sinus drainage and in the two visits to the doctors office and one trip to the ER, he has coughed his head off for three weeks, running a fever about 75% of that time, causing him to miss school for virtually two weeks plus the week school was out for Thanksgiving. The scariest night came when his fever exploded to almost 105 and I watched him rapidly breath for an hour after throwing up and coughing into the wee hours of the morning. His health is improving slowly now but I sure do covet prayers for our little guy as we aren't all the way past this. 

As we were preparing to pray together during our staff meeting this week, the realization came upon me like a ton of bricks. God knew that Paxton would be getting sick. He knew that if Jarett had received the postal job, we would have been faced with decisions that he in his infinite wisdom has spared us from. He paved the way where there was none, and he brought us to the place where we can't do anything but embrace the gift he gave us daily. 

I know many people who are waiting on God to answer prayer. I have friends who are desperate for employment, for the health of their family members to improve, for their marriages to be saved. I know what it looks like to walk in the unknown, but I can say with assurance that God has a plan and we must trust Him, even when we don't see what it is. A dear coworker said to me, on the day that we got Jarett's first paycheck from his new job, this: "I pray for the kind of faith that can send an empty fork to an empty plate and it will not return empty to my mouth because of the provision God provides." 

I pray for that kind of faith too, my friend. And not just because I see it, but because I trust the provider and His plan for my life.

He left going nowhere.

I left him sitting there. That is the thought that I can't get out of my head. Father God, you know I tried. Take what I couldn't do and give me a bread and fishes story to tell. Oh Lord, you know I will praise you, even when all I have is my faith to sustain me. But truly, that is all I need.

Returning to the office from the break last week, I knew today would be busy, but hitting the voicemail button on the office line and hearing eighty-one pleas for help was enough to concern even the most multi-tasked office strategist of all times. Children crying in the background as struggling grandparents requested Thanksgiving food boxes that would feed their extended families; soldiers trying to get bus tickets to try to make it home in time for the holidays; single moms asking if we had a Christmas program that could help provide presents for kids:  you name it, we got the call. 

Then he walked in. It took every ounce of my heart not to grab on to him and wipe the tears from his eyes as they fell in such a way that the physical pain that he was experiencing paled in comparison to the emotional pain he was in.  Sometimes, I barely have to say a word before people open up their lifestory to me. His was a tough one to hear, and as I bandaged up a puncture wound on his hand, I realized how lucky I was to be able to simply go to my medicine cabinet at home and find supplies to bandage my own babies with, or medicine to give them when they didn't feel well, or extra blankets for those nights that were getting colder as winter closes in. These things, I no longer take for granted. 

After an exhusting six hour trek to find a place for this man to sleep for the night so that he could walk to work at 8 in the morning, the final call came up empty. The center was closed, the lights were soon to be off, and here sat this man with nowhere to go. All places were exhausted, and I was now prepping him for a cold night abroad. After I felt he had what he would need for the night, out the door he went. He left going nowhere. 

As I said goodbye and walked out to my car, the tears came. Never as a way to let myself off the emotional hook, but rather try to see my effort through a different lens, I thanked God for this encounter. I thanked God for sending this man my way, because today, he received love. He received care. He received food and drink; but most importantly, he received a message of hope from  a Savior that had never left him, yet led him to this place. 

Smiling through the tears

Today I was visiting with a client when the subject of fear came up. Fear of losing a job, losing a home, losing a child...fear is something that we all deal with from time to time, if not more.

Doing what I could to ease the worry of my client and offer a little consolation to a worried heart, I began to explain how Jesus' disciples had dealt with fear during a very popular story from the Bible that details a boat full of worried folks that were stuck in a storm. The boat forcefully rocked from side to side to the point that the passengers thought they would die. It was then that they cried out to Jesus to come and save them and once they did, the fear had left them.

The fear was gone.

I barely blinked when the tears began to fall down my face. Have you ever been able to give someone sound advice yet it was hard for you to hear it yourself? That is the only way I know how to describe it. The truth was that I was hearing my own words as I realized that my family had been riding some pretty rough waves since my husband was having a tough time finding a job. The uncertainty of so much weighs heavy in times of waiting and can manifest in a very ugly way, and the financial restraint seems to touch so many different areas of life. November birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, December birthdays... The weight can be crushing. But God has a plan, and I trust Him.

As I attempted to wipe the tears away conspicously, I apologized to my client and explained that I truly understand what it means to fear and how sometimes I felt like I was in a boat, too; how I had to ask Jesus every day to save me.  That's when she asked me, "So why are you smiling?"

Was I? Had I managed to overlook the fact that in the midst of the storm, Jesus had given me a reason to smile?

I remembered a verse from the Bible that I cling to that explains how Jesus is able to give me a peace that is different that the kind of peace that the world gives; how it gives me a reason to smile despite the challenges of life. I told her that I think that my smile came from knowing that no matter what life brings my way, whatever ups and downs I may experience, my joy comes from an overflowing well of living water that my Savior refills each day so that I am filled with Him and not with the circumstances life.

Dear Father,
Someone reading this is hurting. They need you. Father, if they don't know you, I pray you would allow them to see that there is nothing that they can do to change your love for them. It is not anything that they can earn, but rather that you give to them freely not because of who they are, but because of who you are. And for the person who is reading this who is riding the boat of life, being rocked by the winds and waves of life: I pray that you would be the calm to their storm. Jesus, you said that the world would give us troubles, but you also promised that you would never leave us. Renew in us a hopeful spirit so that we can smile through the tears. Renew our strength, and thank you for allowing us to leave our cares at the foot of the cross where you pay for them daily.

Amen.

Isaiah 40:31

When mundane becomes miraculous.

I am continued to be amazed at how God gets into the mundane details of our day. With Him, miraculous things happen in the mundane. Please don't get me wrong. My idea of the word "mundane" is probably not the same as yours. I have never had a boring day at work. It would not be unheard of for the spectrum of my day to start with talking someone off of a ledge (metaphorically, of course), cutting a check to a landlord and then calling the family living in a van to inform them that they can now drive to their very own home. to sorting through a pile of stinky shoes to find a pair of steel-toed boots for the fella that just landed a job working for a factory...

Nothing about my job is mundane.

However, there are some cases that are pretty cut and dry. Maybe my client doesn't have a lot to report: they lost  their job, experienced a medical emergency, or even had to pay their property taxes. Whatever the case, they have come for someone to hear their story and reach out to them with whatever she  can do to help. No two stories are alike, as God created us all with different characteristics and delights in that. He cherishes our differences and revels in our individuality.

During a case management appointment, I am given the opportunity to hear each story and respond the best way I know how. It could be a simple utility pledge, a sleeping bag and tent, a call into an employment agency... lots of options. I rely on the spirit of God--the true source of love and compassion--to give me the discernment that I need to move forward. Complete reliance on the spirit of God is key for doing what I do. And some days, He surprises me.

Today after listening to the details behind this particular  case, I was close to wrapping up when something told me to hold on for a second; that something more was there yet left unsaid. You see, I try to offer some hope before I send my clients out into the unknown. Many times, I MUST leave God to take care of the stuff that I can't. I must maintain my boundaries, but recognize that my God has no boundaries. I thanked my client for coming in and asked them if I could pray with them. It was  then that a beautiful revelation came as a tragedy came to light.

Sometimes when I send my clients out the door, I sense their worry. Will they be able to find others places like the Ministry center to help them as we have? It is a hard feeling knowing that you have given all you can yet it isn't what they may have hoped for. But sometimes, they have survived the unimaginable and end up reminding me that even if the prayers don't get answered in our time, or the tragedy is not averted, God is still walking with us. He never leaves us. And when we have come to the end of ourselves, scripture tell us that, "Those that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, shall mount up with wings of eagles, shall run and not be weary.." (Isaiah 40:31)

Tragedy had struck, yet faith remained. Strength remained. Joy eventually came, and hope was found because of the very one who represented it all, and His Name is Jesus Christ.

Thank you God, for bringing miraculous through the mundane.

Joy

Pre-Cursor: Thank you. You have listened to me describe some of the most intimate details of my calling at the Ministry center and have prayed for me, offered me encouragement, a listening ear, or even let me cry on your shoulder. God is indeed my strength, but you all have helped more than you know.

Do you have joy? 

I know that is one heck of a question to kick this party off with, but lets do it anyway. The reason I ask is because there are days that I question that in myself. Thursday and Friday are great case-in-point days for me to walk you through that might give you an inclination as to the great burden I sometimes bear versus the joy and love that I pray is displayed through my life everyday. Much of the case work that I manage is based on my perception of what could easily be described as emergent, or desperate. If I can't get this homeless patient the meds he needs, he will be found deceased in a car that he is temporarily staying in. If I can't find this single mom a place to stay with her kids by the time the hotel forces her to leave, they will have to sleep the streets until some other option opens up. If I can't find transportation for the addict to get to the rehab before they change their mind and decide that the physical pain of withdrawal is more than they can handle, I have lost again. 

Now, now, now. I must move on it now. 

A very dear friend reminded me that it is easy to get caught up in trying to figure out the solution to the problem before giving God the time to make His move. Sometimes that sense of urgency that sits on my chest can somehow hinder my own ability to rely on God and His timing, not my own. And [God] forbid if the pressure that I feel in a moment of dispair would hinder the glory that God is about to get by revealing His plans if only I would run to Him first instead of when I feel like the cards are stacked against me and my client  all I know to do is cry out to Him with all the breath that I have left in my lungs. 

Even if the timing isn't my own. Even if the answer doesn't come. The truth remains: all I need is Him. Yes, there is sorrow sometimes, but the joy that I have is not based on the temporary feeling of happiness that I have because it handled the situation like I wanted, nor is it based on the heartache that I sometimes see; my joy comes from knowing that I don't have to understand everything, but rather in knowing that I am a daughter of the King of kings and He has brought me to this place and equipped me to carry out His plans, and loves me no matter if I succeed or fail miserably.

So Father, thank you for this joy you have given me. Direct my feet, God. Close whatever needs to be closed, and continue opening what needs to be opened. Place me where you can use me, and continue to bless me with the joy that I get from simply walking with you, not on the temporary temperature of the day. Your daughter, Sarah

Typical nineties girl

I would like to wish a formal apology.

You see, I am a nineties girl. I graduated high school in 1998 from Conway High school (Hail to the blue and white, in all its radiant splendor, yada yada yada, go Wampus Cats, go!) and sometimes when I write on time sensitive subject matter, I forget that there are readers who may not realize exactly what I am in reference to. This is one of those posts, sorta.

The year was 1995ish. You see, while I may not have ever been a high school cheerleader (surprise, surprise, I know...), I was determined to wear the shoes that hit the nineties school yard the same way the flock of seagulls hairstyle hit the eighties. They were called Asics and they were beautiful. At the time, if you didn't own a pair of them, it was basically the same generational sin as if you were a girl who didn't own a Cabbage patch doll in the year 1986. The need was great to own a pair and in true-high-school-girl-drama-language, you were lame if you didn't. Or even worse, if your parents bought you the knockoffs from Walmart or somewhere else, you might as well banish yourself to the ball pit at Showbiz pizza (or Chuck-e-Cheese).

I had honestly forgotten about all of this stuff for a long time until I had kids. It was then that words like "North face" and "Under Armor" started surfacing on Christmas lists and I realized the kind of fear that my parents must have faced when I started uttering words like "Asics" or "Birkenstocks" to them. The days of simple clearance buys during Christmas shopping became utterances that mimicked, "I am not paying $58 for a fleece pullover just because the label reads a specific way." The grinch in me forced a smile on my face as I grumbled to the cashier, "You bet I want my receipt," as if keeping a record of the misery would somehow make me feel better when I was filing for bankruptcy after the new year.

Today, my outlook changed a little bit. (Don't act like you didn't see it coming...You knew this story would take a turn....Stay focused, people. Christmas is on the way for crying out loud.) For the last two weeks, I have had the honor to work with a precious family to which four children under the age of ten belong. Tonight, I was on a mission to find enough clothes to simply provide their mama for one outfit for every day of school per child. Each child had two complete outfits of their own, so I needed three additional outfits per child, or 12 outfits total. I headed to the pantry and pulled out my list with each child's size as well as if they were a boy or a girl and started digging in. With every piece of clothing that I placed in its pile according to the child's need, I remembered those old Asics. I remembered how proud I was of mine that I had to wear them like all of the popular girls. As I examined each shirt, pair of pants, and even nightgowns, I wondered what these kids would feel like when they didn't have to wear the same outfit every other day because that is all they had.

Suddenly I began to feel angry when I would find a shirt or pair of pants on it that had a blemish on it. I remember thinking about how special I felt in those Asics. How dare I find anything but the best for these kids?  

Folks, I know I get on here a lot and talk about God's plan for each one of our lives and how His love is so abundant, and how it changed me. That is all true, and I will never backtrack on that statement. -My life is the result of an ever-powerful, ever-loving God who saw something in me that I sometimes have a hard time coming to grips with. Like me, really? But yes, and you too. There are also days when I question why the answers don't come as clearly for this person as they do for that one; why God deals His hand this way over here and a different way over there. But what I do know is that while I may never know that answer until I come face to face with Him, I cannot stand by and do nothing.

Matthew 5:14 says that we are the light of the world. We are. So ask yourself, how can I shine my light today? Is it by checking on an elderly neighbor? Is it by making calling up a local pantry and seeing what they need at the moment? Is it by simply initiating a conversation with your checker at Kroger and telling them they are doing a good job? The possibilities are endless. The reward is eternal. <3

That thing.

Last week, I was given the opportunity to go see the production of Moses at the Sight and Sound theater in Branson. Remembering this story fondly as I recall Easter eves hearing Charleton Heston declare, "Let my people go!" in Cecil B. DeMile's rendition of The Ten Commandments, the story came to life as I watched camels, goats, and horses strut up and down the aisles of the theater in perfect cohesion. There were parts that made the audience gasp and applaud, as well as grip the arms to their seat as the waves parted and the Hebrew people ran through the dry sea. The show was phenomenal.

And then the curtains fall. And the actors take a bow and head backstage. And the lights go down. 

But the true Word of God lives on. 

As I reflected on scripture, specifically Exodus, this verse jumped off the page: "You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. You shall not bow down to them or worship them for I am a jealous God." (v. 4) My  mind immediately went to the scene from De'Mile's version where Moses came down from the mountain with the tablets and the people were having a party complete with gold cows that they were worshiping. When you think about that verse and compare it to a movie that  you grew up watching, making that connection in your own life gets to be a little confusing as it is easy to say that I certainly don't worship anything or anyone other than God. 

Or do I?

Did you know that you can worship something and not be aware of it? I am just going to be totally transparent here when I tell  you that my life is certainly not rainbows and unicorns all the time. I realize that many of you know how I deal with broken people on a daily basis, but that is my calling (as I believe we are ALL called to do if we really admit it to ourselves) and God has equipped me for that. He has softened my heart and given me eyes to love on people and walk side by  side with when it would be easier just to look the other way.  But then there are other things.

Many of you know that my husband has been looking for a job since July. Just for curiosity's sake, we tried to add up the amount of interviews he has been on as well as the number of applications/resumes he has submitted. The number is almost laughable. His full time job has become to look for a job. In addition to that, he continues to lead our kindergarten/first grade Sunday school class on Sunday mornings, our Wednesday night children's class, our small group, his pantry day at the Conway Ministry center, his Renewal Ranch gig... Yeah, lots. 

And do you know that there is not a day that goes by that we don't have what we need? Not one day. God has provided for us in ways we cannot understand. And to say that I  worship money is so silly... How can you worship something you don't have? Here's how: it starts small, and before you know it,  you are thinking about it more and more and instead of of focusing on the One that provides the need; you become honed in on the need itself. 

Maybe it's not money. What has stolen your focus from God? Maybe it is another person. Maybe it is your calendar. Maybe it is entertainment. Friends, ask God to reveal it to  you because most of the time, we don't realize that it is happening. But what we do know that there is an evil presence in this world that wants to separate us from God and his blessings. I believe that daily distractions are his first line of defense. No one says that they have ever gone out and created false idols and worshiped them but everyone, including me if being truthful, have allowed something to become the focus of our life rather than the blessings that God has for us. 

If this has  convicted anyone like I was convicted when I realized what was happening, a simple prayer to an Almighty God combined with the want to refocus your attention on Him works wonders. There is not one simple formula to declare, rather just thank God for allowing you to see what He is trying to tell you, confess to Him that you want Him to become the focus instead of whatever it is that is standing in the way of that, and don't turn back. 

There is freedom in the name of Jesus and it is for us all. Be blessed.

Today was God's gift to me.

If you have never been in a desperate situation, this probably won't make much sense to  you. 

Desperation is all around me. From the young man who is found sleeping outside the door because he knows that he can get some food as soon as a staff member shows up; to the lady who is fighting back tears as she explains to me that she, "is tired of trying to convince her kids that things will be ok," wondering herself if that is true. When you have been blessed to be a part of a team whose underlying though each day is to show love to a desperate world in need of a Savior, a burden is placed upon your shoulders. Bringing those burdens to the foot of the cross where they can be left and plucked up by the One who wants to create a beautiful mosaic out of the messy pieces of your life is such a humbling thought.

I am still pretty naive, but my prayers are stronger than ever for my brothers and sisters on the front lines, holding my hands as we tread through the waters of uncertainty where oftentimes, the rubber meets the Damascus road. Like Paul, when people start to witness just how much God has His eyes on them and is preparing for them to see, they are changed.

Today was monumental for a certain lady who told me two days ago that she, "dreamed of a place where her kids would smile a lot," and not have to ask on a daily basis if everything was going to be ok. These kids were growing up  understanding what it meant to live in fear of something that they couldn't comprehend yet God had a plan for this family.

Today, this family found out that they would be getting a new home. Out of the ashes, this family discovered that they are capable of  being loved and that it didn't matter what the past looked like, because the future held a promise that they could take hold of.

An angel went to her and said, 'Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you!' (Luke 1:28)

Some have said to me," I could never do what you do," but that isn't true. I could never do what I do alone, but scripture says in I John 4:4, "...because greater is He in you than he that is in the world." My challenge is to ask God to allow you to see a need and respond according to His will. If you will start to pray like this, God will reveal things to you that you simply can't unsee but then He will send His spirit to respond with the kind of love that Jesus intended for us all--desperate in life;  desperate for Him.

Some days, it hurts.

There is not one day that is the same. In order to do what I do, I have to have some face time with God every day or else I go into my  unprepared. I grew up hearing about this so-called armor of God, but now can honestly say that if I don't gear up each day, I will fall short doing what I do. Maybe not in the way that you think I mean, because I can petition for people as long as the day is long, and I can listen to their stories of heartbreak until the sun goes down, but to truly love them I must see them as God does.

There are days where I celebrate. A displaced worker started a new job and now he can support his family;   a formerly homeless veteran just took possession of the keys to his new apartment; a  mom was finally reunified with her kids after a hard battle with alcohol addiction.

These days, I celebrate.

But then there are days like today, where I literally cry with these brothers and sisters. When I hear about the things that happened to them while they were in childhood and then remember that monsters do exist. Or the desperation in their voices when they call to tell me that the job didn't work out and the memory of the looks on their kids' faces sweep across my mind as I remember what it was like the first time they learned that they didn't have a home. Or the client that tells me that she thought about killing herself last night because she felt like the fight was too hard to keep trying.

But...God.

My heart cries from a place that says,"Yes, I hear you. Yes, I will try for you. Yes, I will carry this burden because I know what it is like for someone to carry my burden and when you realize that my love for you is great because His love is greater, then you will understand."


And the Lord said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the Lord, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. Exodus 33:19

A day in the life

I can't say I wasn't warned. I knew it would be tough, but answering the call to actively show my neighbor how much I love them is my  mission, messy or not. Today it was messy.

I was headed to the office to pick up an appointment card when I saw one of the homeless regulars that visits us sometimes. Hanging out so that she could let her phone charge, I noticed she was missing her shoes as I approached. She immediately started telling me that her feet were hurting and I sat down on the ground in front of her and noticed that her feet were swollen. Not only were they swollen, they looked like she had been walking around without her shoes on and were really dirty and had a few open sores. Her feet looked rough and I other than letting me clean them off a little bit and pass on some Ibuprofen, she wasn't interested in much else that I had to offer. No shoes, no bandages.  Just some TLC, medicine, and a ride to a friends house because walking at the time would have been murderous on her ravaged feet. She smiled at me after she unloaded all her bags from the car and it was then that I realized that providing a solution to a problem (in her case, the condition of her feet) sometimes takes a back seat to simply being there.

It wasn't long after that I got a call about one of my clients who received a call that she was being evicted from her apartment and within the next couple of hours, she and her two elementary age sons would have nowhere to go after a long day at work and school. As I raced across town to explain to the apartment manager that she had a new job and just needed one week before she received her first full paycheck and plead with them to let her stay, her fear became my own. Knowing that she was doing everything right, that nothing that had happened to her was her fault, my heart broke as I thought about how it would have to feel to try and figure out how I was going to explain to my kids that they had no food, clothes, or even somewhere to sleep for a few days. Knowing that this would be their reality very shortly. 

Unfortunately, management could never be reached. I did plead with the maintenance man to let them in for just a minute so that they could grab some food and clothes and he agreed, but couldn't give them long to do it. We went to the apartment and the kids were waiting when we got down there. The youngest started crying as soon as we pulled up and needing to go to the bathroom and was asking for an after-school snack. Knowing that they basically had to grab whatever they could carry with them as fast as they could, the process was overwhelming. Mama headed to the kitchen and started grabbing food and water while a sister who had showed up grabbed laundry as quick as she could. The kids were given bags to fill toys with and it was a whirlwind of emotion and necessity combined. Finally, my client got a call that she could stay with a friend so as we went different directions, I headed to the grocery store and wept for her for the next thirty minutes from the parking lot.  

How would I have explained to my children those circumstances? How overwhelming was it for her to even fathom the thought of not having food to feed her children? The tears fell hard as that reality became real in such a tangible way through her story. There was nothing about this that she deserved yet here she was, trudging through. I think the thing that surprised me the most was that through all this, the last thing she said to me was, "Thanks for everything you tried to do today. Do you think I could come to church with you on Sunday?" 

Somehow, through everything that happened today, she experienced love. It was messy, angry, desperate, so desperate, but love shone through all of that and hope remained after all. 

"In a world that is so confused about what love is, I'm more convinced than ever, that when they see it, and when we get it right and we live it out, love never fails." (Tim Britton, 9/10/17)

Remember John

This past weekend, my family spent time in Indianapolis supporting our Bible quiz team from Conway First Church of the Nazarene and attending general assembly. Because our church is a global one, representatives from all over the world were in attendance and being able to meet a few and talk with them made me appreciate the fact that our church plays such a big role in getting the word of Jesus out all across the world.

"Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders, let me walk upon  the waters, wherever you would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander, and my faith will be made stronger, in the presence of my Savior." (Hillsong United, 2013)

For over four years, this song has been the mediation of my heart and has certainly opened me up to move when God tells me to. This time, my feet would be planted in a town much bigger than I was used to but still I had to respond to the Spirit when it called.  With care packages in hand, God gave me the boldness to get over my fear of the unknown and instead focus on how He wanted me to love my neighbors.  God allowed me to witness smiles, laughter, and plenty of tears (mostly mine, of course) and I still can't believe how he allowed my family to be a small part of something bigger than myself. 

Now I can't stop thinking about John. When I walked around the corner and saw John sitting on the ground, I immediately thought about Blues Brothers, because John actually looks like he could be a Belushi brother. We sat and talked with John for a few minutes as he told us about the city and himself.  We prayed with John and I hope that he sensed our love for him but more importantly, God's love. As we left, I asked John if he usually hangs out in the same spot and when he told me he did, I told him we'd see him again bring him more provisions. We walked past that same corner two more times and never saw John again.

 As we left Indy, my oldest son reminded me that we never got to see John again. Remembering that I had told John that we would see him again, my desire to turn around and go back to the city was overwhelming. Turning around two hours into the trip was crazy considering we still had probably seven more hours of driving in front of us, so the tears fell as I told Jarett (my husband) how worried I was about John and how I had let him down by not looking harder for him while we were still in town.  

Then my husband said to me, "You are believing a lie, Sarah. We did what we could do, but the devil wants you to think it wasn't enough. We may go back to Indianapolis someday and run into John, and he may be the guy loving on displaced folks in the neighborhood because of some family from Arkansas who stopped and showed the love of God to him back in 2017. He may be the guy leading  a church because God flooded a seed that was planted when a six-year old little boy named Paxton took his hand as a family  prayed for him. We don't know what is going to happen to John but God does."

And just like that, my husband spoke the truth into my troubled heart and my want to call up every friend that I had remaining in Indy to go look for John was eradicated because I knew that the One who had saved me would save John because that is what a shepherd does. 

How he loves us so.

"I am the good shepherd; I know my own sheep, and they know me." (John 10:14)

Challenge accepted

Lets have a moment of silence.

I'd like to take this time to recognize that today marks the official completion for the first week of summer time break for teachers. Week one down; 9 weeks to go. In Jesus' name, Amen. I'd also like to point out that today it rained, and if you know anything about the rain and the normal napping hours that usually occur between the hours of one and three within the classrooms in the preschool setting, instead of racing to the nearest coffee pot or Dr. Pepper machine, I simply laid on the couch and dozed off. Hallelujah. 

Now that week one is in the books, what is next? Lets face it: there's only so much time I can spend taking my kids to the pool, organizing my yearly garage sale, and taking a trip somewhere without wondering at what point I am going to lock my kids out of the house and start stripping floors and rearranging rooms. Instead I am choosing to look at this time as more than just the gift of time, but taking it a step further and pressing into some things that might just have an impact on the world in which we live.

Yesterday I was given the opportunity to get out of my comfort zone and serve alongside some very Godly people that volunteer time at the Storehouse, a food/clothing/toiletry cupboard that operates out of the old Second Baptist church at the corner of Harkrider/Oak street. Now known as the Ministry center,  it continues to make a positive impact for the city of Conway by loving on people just as Christ has called all of us to do. 

The organization of the pantry was impeccable and immediately I felt love from the volunteers as I walked through the door. The final stage of a person's trip through the corridors was to bring their belongings to the bagging area where another volunteer and I would prepare their belongings to leave and pray over them. Because it was my first time, there were very few recipients that I knew so praying over the needs that they may or may not have told me about was a little daunting, to be honest. Don't get me wrong: I love to pray for others but when you don't know them, it can be a little bit intimidating. 

Here's the wonderful part of that: God knows them, and all I had to do was allow Him to speak.

So that's just what I did and in true God-fashion, His word became alive as He spoke life into their circumstances.  I witnessed tears falling as I sensed the pain that some folks were holding onto. I felt the shoulders of a man, who must have been about 6'6 feet tall, tremble as I prayed over him, assuring him that God was still with him and the circumstances of his life and rejoiced over the tears that fell as she asked him if they could please go back to church on Sunday and he said, "yes." I harbor the words of a young man who had cross tattoos all over his arms as he looked at me and asked, "How did you know?" after I had prayed something specific that must have reached a chord in his heart. 

"I don't know anything, but God must have, " I declared to him. 

So here's the challenge I accept: I will dedicate one day a week for the next nine weeks doing something for others as a testament for the love I have for my Conway neighbors and because of the love that I was given to me from the cross of Jesus Christ. I can't wait to see what God is going to do. 

Booked: This day could have ended a lot differently.

Let me get real for just a second. For the past two days I have been sick. I have one child recovering from the guck brought on by pollen, while the second child went to the doctor today because of the same guck that seems to be attacking everyone in central Arkansas right now. My husband is nursing an injured knee, my dad is still staying with us, and I am thankful that the Bible app is so readily available on my phone because I have felt the need to sanctify folks in scripture and anointed oils so that these demons would flee in Jesus' name. Clearly, I am not one of those "salt and light" people when I am sick.I am still trying, Lord knows I am trying.

Father, empty me of myself so I can be filled with you. Keep sending the hurting to me, because I will lift them up in Your Name. Don't let me pass up one single gift that you are showing me because I am too busy with life.  And please, don't let me lose my witness because of less than perfect life circumstances. 

Paul and Silas praised you from prison; Job praised you after every single thing (including his family) was taken from him: Sarah will praise you in spite of  sick kids, an injured husband, and an un-diagnosed sinus infection.

Today I  had to get out of my normal classroom routine so that I could report to my home office in Plumerville and sign my contract for next year. Praise God, I can help support my family for another year. On my way back, I was about three blocks away from the school when the unexpected happened. I headed into the middle of a busy intersection (Dave Ward and Donaghey for you locals) with the green arrow leading me on when a distracted driver who thought she could defy the laws of physics came face to face with me, her car no match for my mid-sized SUV. I literally had a "Jesus take the wheel" moment when I realized that there wasn't anything else I could do but just hold both of my feet pressed to the brake, close my eyes, and brace for impact.

But the impact never came.

The lady was driving a car comparable to a smart car (size wise) and before I closed my eyes and  I uttered the name "Jesus" I had a vision of this lady laying on the hood of my car. When I opened my eyes, she and I locked eyes and the tears welled up in her eyes fast as my mouth formed the words "Are you ok?" to her. We both reversed our cars at the same time and I kept waiting for that moment to come when the two vehicles that had impacted would suddenly unlock from one another, but that moment never came. Pedestrians on  the left and right were frozen solid until we eventually left the scene of the would-be accident.

I arrived back in the classroom with a cold sweat slowly forming in the back of my hair and within a couple of minutes was whisked outside for recess time. Still trying to regain composure and not having told a soul about what had just happened, the sweet sound of an unknown child's voice approached; she was from a different classroom but shares a playground with us sometimes during one of our recesses.

She reached up and pointed at my necklace and said, "I know what that is; it means that Jesus was with you."

The tears filled my eyes as I realized that I was receiving a message from my Abba Father, the one who had delivered me from the potential wreckage that could have changed how this day ended, for me or the other driver.Jesus was there and He was using this sweet angel to let me know it.  I thank God for His intercession and  that even on the days that I allow life circumstances to affect my outward projection of anything other than love, He extends grace and somehow lets me know that I am His, grumpy or not.

Through His eyes

One of the things that I ask God for pretty regularly is to let me see things as if I were seeing them through His eyes. When He does, it is almost as if you can never look through the same lenses that you previously used because it is almost as if a shift occurs and your eyes have been opened. One of the things that burdens me is when people have seen something traumatic happen in their lives and it has distanced them from God. As someone who has seen God take the broken pieces of a life and make it beautiful again, times of struggle are never what we want but knowing that victory awaits on the other side because of who HE is enough to shout "Glory!" even when the world as seen through our own eyes can be terrifying; seeing through the lenses of a Savior can bring certainty during the unknown, peace through the tumult, even love amidst hate.

But what if you don't know? The concept of understanding that God is good and all who believe in Him is hard for someone to understand if they feel abandoned by Him, or if they believed God actually allowed that bad thing to happen to them. Or worst of all,believing God made that bad thing happen because of something bad they did. 

If this is something that you struggle with, let me be very clear here: God has not left you and the pain that you are feeling or have carried with you has not gone unnoticed by the Almighty. He is able to bring restoration to your story.

In the last week, God has sent divine appointments my way. I have always believed that God will meet you where you are, and sometimes that means sending people your way. I was able to speak with a sweet friend about her early diagnosis of cancer during childhood and how that experience has brought an appreciation to each day that she is healthy. She battled cancer in such a way that even now, over twenty years later, to recall the story brings tears to her father's eyes. Because the type of cancer that she was diagnosed with is more common in adults in their twenties, every time she is sick for an extended amount of time of senses something different with her body, she goes in for an MRI. Her smile is beautiful and contagious, and as she watches her little boy grow up, I can't imagine what joy it must bring her to be given the gift of another day to see what the next day will bring. 

Last night I sat down with a friend whom I have prayed for and that God would break the chains of  an alcohol addiction for her so that she could experience the life that Jesus has for her. The prayers that I spoke were manifested last night as she wept at my kitchen table and told me about an encounter she had with God in which He told her that Her chains were not too strong for Him to break. As we sat together tonight and opened up the Living Word of God, the addictions fully came to light as she pulled the (un-prescribed) pain pills from her purse and we claimed that ALL chains would be broken in the powerful name of Jesus. Please be in prayer for my friend as she is precious to me, but moreso to Christ. 

Beloved friends, feeling as though we have somehow been left behind or forgotten about by the Almighty Father who beautifully created us in His Image is lucifer's trademark move  and when we truly understand our own identity in Christ, we understand how we are a masterpiece that He didn't put together for our own glory, but for His. Realizing that your story, your life, has a purpose, is one of the greatest gifts that we can claim because it gives us the assurance that we are never alone but being sought out by the Shepherd that wants nothing more that to have an intimate relationship with us.

Father God, 

Thank you for divine appointments. I pray that you would simply keep them coming. I lift up my precious friends to you, as well as others that I didn't mention that find themselves struggling and wondering where you are. Reveal yourself in their lives as you have revealed yourself to me. 

I love you.

Not my testimony

In 2006, a testimony was born out of a broken life that happened to be mine. This was the year that my life became less about me, but more about a newborn baby that had been given to me. My life before the conception of this child resembled a roller coaster of events, complete with many life-altering decisions that I had made because I was convinced that my life was my own. After being given the gift of a son, the focus became less about me and more about my new role as a mother. 

During this time, the former life that I had created slowly started to become more of a distant memory as I embraced the future that I had and it was during that time that I was able to give a testimony about how bad I had messed things up in my own life but how God had still  given me a second chance and although I was not proud of the choices that I had made, I took delight in feeling the angels rejoice because of how capable God was to take a life like mine and bring restoration to it. 

Hands shaking, heart pumping, stomach flipping, knees knocking, breathing irregularly, I gave a testimony that spoke of God's redemptive powers and how it wasn't our job to straighten up our lives in order to have a relationship with Him, because He works best in our weakness. That testimony was hard to give because I realized that there was a  level of embarrassment not just for me, but also my family, and once the bandage was ripped from the wound I felt like the beautiful part was all that was left to see because that part had become God's power in his weakest daughter. 

Then 2009 happened,and my definition of family was unraveling right in front of me.

 Our church at the time hosted a yearly prayer conference and in preparation to see lives change, chains break, marriages be restored, physical miracles occur, truly supernatural things happen, a team of us got together once a week just to pray for what God was going to do during the prayer conference. Just an intimate group of us, we would gather together and truly have inhibited, face on the ground and weeping prayer services. No expectations, no agenda; simply just to wait, listen, and ask the God of the universe to be moving in people's lives so that they could encounter the greatness that was I AM specifically during the conference.

 The spirit was heavy and petition for the living God to move was all we wanted, and yet I sat alone in a dark corner with the spirit of anger growing in me. Sitting on a pew isolated from everyone else, I started to conjure up lies to tell people as to why I wasn't being seen at church much anymore. The light that I had experienced was growing dim because I was alone, or atleast I felt alone. My family, whom I thought was my foundation, was fading from existence and I sat alone crying, angry at God. By the time I was ready to rejoin the group, I wiped the tears away and went to sit in another part of the sanctuary and it was then that I heard the voice of God. 

Every word that had been spoken to God out of anger was  replied to. The lies were being confronted, the hurt was addressed, the sense of abandonment was replaced by the One who was with me all along. Because of a friend whom had no idea that the prayers that he was saying were a direct reply from the Keeper of my heart to me, I was heard and told by God or  El Roi, the One who sees you, (Genesis 16:13) that my foundation was not maintained by my own efforts but  rather by the one who calmed the storms that my life had become. 

The prayer conference was wonderful and I often relish in the stories of victory that God produces as a result of total brokenness from people's lives that God takes and gives a beautiful meaning to, but of all the conferences I have been to, that year my favorite story was my own. It turns out that the prayers I was saying on behalf of others were noticed by an Almighty God that knew what I needed before I had even reached the edge of the shore and He was there waiting to part the waters for me. 

"Jesus got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, 'Quiet! Be still!' Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. He said to his disciples, 'Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?'" Mark 4:39-40

The Garden of Life

Spring has arrived! (Unless it snows. Let's face it: this is Arkansas.)

Aside from the arctic front that moved through today, dropping our temp highs about 20 degrees colder than what they had for the first part of the week, the depression known as winter numbness has been washed away with the potential for sweet smells of honeysuckle, the sight of daffodils blooming, and the invigoration of getting dirt underneath my nails as I start the process of bringing back to life the production of fresh produce growing as spring gives way.

Do I have my own garden? Nope. And it is a shame, too. One of my favorite movies is "Steel Magnolias" and my favorite character of the movie is overall-wearing, ugly-hat donning, tomato-picking character "Ouiser" (pronounced "Wee-sa") whose character embraces the Southern culture in a powerful way and delivers the statement, "Southern women are supposed to wear funny-looking hats  and ugly clothes and grow vegetables in the dirt. It's what we do."

Because that's what we do. And if you don't have a garden, you find one and work in it. 

So I found one, and I love it. Actually, there are four of them. These gardens that I am proud to be a part of exist in four locations--3 in neighborhoods that serve low-income families and the newest one at a church. The COHO Garden Club (or City of Hope Outreach) works to bring nutritional education as well as healthy food alternatives to the areas in which they exist to some of our community's most valuable commodities--our children. The kids love to be a part of the program and the looks on their faces when they start to see the seeds they've helped plant break past the surface of the dirt and start to take form is all anyone could ask for.


Last weekend, we all rounded up our tools (or borrowed some) and headed to the gardens so we could harvest what was left from fall planting and put down new soil and other things to make the garden fertile when planting time came around. At the location I was at for the majority of the time I spent gardening that day, we have two raised beds that sit inside an area surrounded with timber borders and topped off with mulch. We had put everything that was supposed to go into the beds out and were finishing things off by laying out the mulch when I started to wonder if we would have enough. I am definitely no mathematician, but if I had guessed, you couldn't have convinced me that two bags of mulch would have been enough to cover the space I needed them to. Nonetheless, I distributed the two bags all over the area while another volunteer and I started to space it out. Keep in mind, there was already mulch on the ground; this was just to add to what had been put down a season or two prior.

As I started to use the hoe to distribute the mulch throughout the bed, I saw where the old mulch was tossed up and quickly blended with the new, giving every square inch of that garden the facelift that it needed after weathering the dreary winter. My doubt soon turned to determination to make that garden look beautiful throughout because of the ability of the new mulch to bring life back to the old. Once it was all said and done, the garden was revived and ready for the spring crop to be planted so that those priceless faces from the families that they served would once again be blessed by them.

And then I began to wonder: How often do we doubt God's ability to breathe life into us again?

 I know that I have been guilty of focusing my eyes on the situation that is right under my nose rather than taking comfort in the  Almighty One's abilities to produce more fruit than I will ever need to make my life abundant again. He is the One who gives life to the weary, gives comfort to the hurting, gives hope to the hopeless. He is  the one who saw me at my weakest and loved me anyways. And He is the One that restored my life when my garden had no foundation whatsoever, but rather withered up vines that barely had any life left.

The Great Gardener planted seeds in my life and watered them, giving me hope again. He restored my soul. He took the broken pieces of my life and replenished my thirst for living for Him, praise His Holy Name! 

Friend, do you doubt God's ability to save you? Or even to love you? Have you found yourself questioning whether or not God can take the circumstances of your life and make them beautiful again? Now is the time to let go of the uncertainty and allow God to reclaim the specific call that He has on your life and has since before you came from your mother's womb. His love has never changed for you and if you were ever like me and doubted God's ability to love you after you stopped loving yourself, know that it is not true. You. are. loved.

My Father,
Thank you for always giving us enough of what we need. You have an amazing way of taking our doubts, fears, or insecurities and replacing them with assurance, peace, and love. Jesus, you said that you chose us and appointed us so that we could bear fruit that would last. Help me to remember that I have been chosen to take your light to a hurting world that needs nothing more than to know that you love them, too. Please replace my insecurities with the truth that I am a chosen child of Yours; that nothing I can do will change your love for me, and that while my garden may need to be pruned from time to time, as long as you are the One doing it, it will continue to be beautiful because of who you are in me. Lord, if anyone struggles like this, remind them who they belong to. Remind them that they  are made beautiful because of who You are and they are commissioned by you to bring hope to a weary world.

In the name of Jesus, name above all names, keeper of my heart,
 Sarah Kathryn

Friends, if you are interested in learning more about COHO, please visit the website http://www.cityhopeoutreach.com, or you can find them on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/cohoconway or  https://www.facebook.com/groups/391741121029110/.

When He moves

Just as I was writing out this title, I started wondering to myself if I had used this title previously. It sounds familiar, but who knows. Of course, the "He" is God. There have been times in my life when I could clearly see God's hand print all over details that pertained to my day; in the same way, there have been times where I was so busy that the storms of Hades would have had to strike me down in order to get my attention. It's not that I don't always want to feel close to God (or more specifically, the Holy Spirit) but teaching oneself to slow down is something that I am convinced will happen in retirement. But sometimes that is what God wants us to do: slow down and listen for Him to speak.

I guess you could say that I am a pretty "Type A" person. I like my ducks in a row and when one of them takes a dive in the deep end of the pond, I can lose my cool. For instance, I set my alarm for 5:00am. I know that my snooze goes off every 9 minutes. I can hit my snooze 4 times and rise out of bed exactly at 5:36am, just enough time to get my shower, put my clothes on, and start putting my makeup on before I have to try to wake everyone else up.  Clockwork.

Friday was different. Instead of hitting the snooze 4 times like usual, I got out of bed at 5:09 (One snooze hit) and was pretty proud of myself when I realized that I was like 29 minutes ahead of schedule. Enjoying the leisure time that God had given me, I suddenly felt urged to pray. I have some very specific people that I am praying about and their struggles with drug addiction and without worrying about the time (you mean we don't all do that?) I started crying out to God. "Break the chains, Father! Save this family! I have seen your glory, let me see it again!" Before I had a second to worry about the time, I realized that my hair was almost dry yet I was still in the shower. The Holy Spirit was so thick and no, it wasn't simply the steam if that is what you are thinking. My heart was beating fast and the voice that I was hearing was my Father telling me that He had heard my cry for these friends and He was already there to take care of it.

Singing God's praises all the way to work, I walked into my classroom and proclaimed to a friend that God was going to heal some people that were struggling with addiction. The Spirit moved through that room as my friend showed me the goosebumps on her arms. At recess, a little boy who usually won't come near me on the playground shadowed me for the longest time until I looked down to see him holding my hand, willingly. Was the Holy Spirit the cause of this?  During my lunch break, I found a secluded place to sit and listen to worship music when a co-worker came in and I shared with him what I believe was the work of the Holy Spirit throughout my day as he teared up and lifted his hands in praise as he left the room. Was I actually becoming what I had asked God to make me? A vessel that God could use to bring a message to a world that so desperately wanted to hear it?

The last few weeks have been difficult, and worrying has become a regular part of my day. Every day I ask God to take care of something specific and the next day it is something totally different. Is it possible that this whole time God has been trying to show me that instead of focusing on my own life and what He could do for me, I should have instead been looking at what He could do for others if only I asked? And instead of being stuck looking at the time and the things on my to-do list, I should have surrendered my own life circumstances  so that God could make the move that He so desperately wanted to make?

There's one final thing and I will shut up. Every day I walk up the street from my house to meet my kiddos when they get off the bus. During this time, I usually play on my phone or have conversations with the neighbors... Piddle around. This particular day was a little different. As I was stressing out about something in my own head, I looked up and noticed the tree that I was standing under.  It was a pretty ordinary tree, but it wasn't the leaves that caught my attention, it was what was looking at me through the leaves. I tried to snap a picture, but the quality wasn't very good and you won't be able to see what I did in the picture I will share with you. It was the moon. Now I know it is not unheard of to see the moon during daylight hours, but as soon as I noticed it, a plane came into sight. The plane was going really fast and for a second I thought I was going to be able to take a picture of the plane flying toward the moon, but my angle was bad and I ended up crossing the street to try to get a better picture. As soon as I snapped the shot of the plane during this cat-and -mouse game I was playing, I realized that maybe there was a message that God was trying to tell me. The final picture that I took was of the plane flying above the tree, with a bright streak spanning from the left side of the pic to the right side above all of it. It was the sun.I realized that sometimes it is easy to get so fixated on what life looks like from the pilot's seat that we neglect to see that the one who created it all controls it in the palm of His hand. When my life looked like a plane crash was about to happen, realizing that the One who holds the entire universe in His hand gave me a reason to quit looking at all the factors that could cause me to panic and instead look to the Son who holds ME in the palm of His hand.

Beloved, you are a treasured treasure. Your life matters to Christ, and He died to prove that to you. I believe that God the Father, His Holy Spirit, and Christ Jesus want to walk through life with you and if you allow them to, they will move in ways that only they can. All throughout the Bible, you will find a message of love that comes from a Father that wants a relationship with His kids, but we have to allow Him in. Matthew 6:33 tells us to "Seek first his kingdom and righteousness, and all these things will be given to you." The next time you feel like the pilot of a plane that might be coasting along with nothing significant to report, or spiraling out of control hoping for a rescue, look to the One who holds the universe in the palm of His hand.

He knows your name, He knows your heart, and His love for you is perfect in every way.

The One

Laundry in my house is tricky business. Because of crazy busy schedules, I would like to officially label myself  a "binge launderer," or someone who waits until every laundry basket in the house is full of dirty clothes before she starts her day-long trek of restoring the empty dressers and closets to their original, well-stocked, functional selves. My laundry day is usually a Saturday, and usually on this day, the thought, " I wonder how much it would cost to pay someone to do this?" enters my mind. But this is real life, and I have to squeeze laundry detergent into my already-tightly squeezed grocery budget, so paying someone to do it is out of the question. Plus, I fear judgment, so there's that. It's one thing to admit my struggles with the laundry horde on a blog entry, but a whole other story for a real life person to deal with the dirty underwear that my children can produce. Judgment duly noted.

My husband is the greatest person known to man. Well, besides Jesus. And since Jesus is actually no longer a man, my husband wins the award. He is the "in-between-laundry-handler" and when a request is made for something specific to be washed during the dirty-laundry-day-purge, he sweeps in and saves the day. He is my ever-after Prince: my king of football jerseys and soccer clothes cleaner; the clothes that we get one pair of, yet have to be washed sometimes sixty times a week during those specific seasons. He is my hero and I have been known to dish out extra doses of lovin's when I can see he is having a busy laundry day because it is not my busy laundry day. Bless him. 

The kids know when it is my laundry day and usually avoid me like the plague. At any time, my regular calls of "Kids, come here!" can be met with eye rolls, grunts, complaining, and sloth-like movement upon exiting their locations of isolation where they are sure my pleas to go put up their laundry won't be heard and enter into whatever location I am working from. 

Nice try, kids. Be thankful. You have clean underwear. You're welcome. 

Maybe it is because I just woke up from a 3 and a half hour nap and am feeling like a reborn person who needs to do laundry and actually has some motivation to do it, but this topic of  laundry is not really what is on my heart. A million thoughts were going through my mind as I fell asleep and I just knew that when I woke up, I would produce a piece of literary art that would send  PR team to my door begging for my employment for one of their publications, but alas, here I am writing about laundry. 

So now is where I try to make a connection between my laundry wars and what has really been stirred in my heart. Previously I mentioned my children's response to my "Kids come here!" plea. It can be met with less-than-jolly attitudes as I have them transport their newly cleaned wardrobe into its designated spots and even though I am doing something to help them (who doesn't like clean underwear?), they are less than optimistic to rush in and take hold of what I have done for them, or why I am calling them.

Let's put the laundry away for a sec (see what I did there?) and get real for a moment. If you are reading this, you probably know a little bit about me. To say that I am a prodigal daughter is very much an understatement. I am sorry to assume that if you are reading this, you know what I mean when I call myself that, so let me explain. In the Bible, specifically Luke 15:11-32, there was a man who had two sons. One son was level-headed and responsible and the other was not; the prodigal son took the inheritance that his dad gave him and squandered it while the responsible son stayed behind to take care of his dad and the land, yada yada. Two very different types of personalities: one good, one bad. When the father learned that the son who has gone through his inheritance by being irresponsible was coming home, he didn't think twice about judging his son, rather embraced the fact that his son was coming home where he could be safe. The "bad" son had done so many things to mess up his life, yet the father welcomed him home for no other reason than he loved him unconditionally.

 Much like God, our eternal Father. He loves us. He longs for us to know that and to quit convincing ourselves that we have to do something to prove that we are worthy of His love. We are not worthy, but He still loves. 

When I turned my life back to God, a fire was lit. My focus became about  God and how He could love a prodigal daughter  like me, but I realized that it wasn't because of myself but rather of the perfect love that He had bestowed upon me. It has been roughly ten years since that fire stirred in my heart and I am so thankful that it did. My identity changed and while I will never be perfect, or even close, I am redeemed by God's power in my life. 

This girl (me) is a prayer warrior. Not just a "I'll pray for you" kind of girl, but more like a "I'm going to cry out to God on your behalf, things are going to get messy, things are going to get ugly, I am crawling to the Almighty throne on your behalf and I will encounter the Holy Spirit," kind of girl. Don't get me wrong: the world needs "I'll pray for you" pray-ers. (As in people, not the act) The fervent, steadfast, and always-reliable pray-ers have upheld the kingdom of God on so many occasions. James 5:16 tells us that the effective, fervent prayers of a righteous man has great power! Power that comes from God, not from whichever way we choose to pray because He hears them all. I love seeing prayers manifest and used to run around like a schoolgirl asking with anticipation (to the person I had prayed for) how God had chosen  to respond to my prayer. Like I somehow had a direct line to the Father or something. At what point did that stop and did I start responding to the Father in the same way that my kids respond to me on laundry day? "Don't they know that I have what they need? Don't they know that instead of worrying about the small details, I've got them covered?"

(Cue dramatic drum sound indicating a sad twist in the story.)

 Once upon a time, there was a girl who had a very giving heart that caused her to want to do so much for the kingdom of God that she would never turn a man away that needed help.  She lived by the credo, "Never walk away from someone who deserves help; your hand is God's hand for that person." (Proverbs 3:27) She volunteered in her community, her church, her kids' school, anywhere where there was a possibility that she could be the hands or feet of Jesus. She felt called in many directions and every time she would respond "yes" to a new calling, she felt her relationship strengthen with God. But then life got complicated. Instead of responding to the things of her heart, she found herself operating out of the necessary instead of the calling. She found herself getting so caught up with the "must-haves" that she forgot WHO the real must-have was. One day, she woke up to find that although she had not backslid by any means, she was no longer seeking the one who put the callings in her heart. As she sit and listened to her pastor deliver a message on one Sunday morning, she became emotional thinking about how close to God she once felt and regretted taking her eyes off of the One whom had been calling her all along. It wasn't necessarily about where she had been called before, or what her life looked like now, it was about the One who had been calling her and how she had allowed her own management of her life to take over God's direction for her life.

There's good news, though. We change, but God stays the same. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Maybe you are like me and don't remember what you are called to do. Maybe you once knew, but lost sight of it trying to keep up with the busyness of life. Maybe you are still waiting to be called somewhere specifically. Maybe you know your calling yet haven't taken that step of faith. Whatever the case, know the one who calls you. Stay connected with Him. Don't allow the circumstances of life interrupt you from the One who really matters. Don't allow satan to convince you that you are so far away from  God that getting back is impossible. That is a lie.

Whether you are a prodigal child who has gone far from Christ or an anointed child of God who is involved in a lukewarm relationship, seek Him and you will find Him. Open your Bible.( 1 Peter 2:9) Don't have one? Let me know. Pray, however it looks. But most importantly, worry less about your calling but more about the one who calls. The rest will fall into place.