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.

 

"All the Feels" (part 1)

This past Sunday, our Pastor began a new sermon series titled, "All The Feels." Coincidental that many of us were already in a reminiscent mood considering it was the 15th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks on our country and we recalled how we watched in horror as terrorists flew planes into the twin towers located in New York city as well as the Pentagon, resulting in the loss of almost 3.000 American citizens. Not coincidental if you believe that God already had a message placed on the heart of one of His followers, who would be delivering a message about emotions to his flock. Let's face it: many of us had "all the feels" simply because of the remembrance of that day.

Our choir special was beautifully delivered by the talented singer Carla McAlexander, who bravely stood mid-stage and sang a rendition of Kari Jobe's song " I am not alone." The song is a reminder about how we all face trials, yet when we fix our eyes on Christ, we are never truly alone. Carla and Kevin are the proud parents of Morgan and Mason, and it was on December 11, 2014 when their lives changed as they learned that their beloved daughter had been involved in a car accident that would ultimately result in her gaining angel wings on July 3, 2015.

Morgan was an angel here on earth but God needed her elsewhere, and the McAlexander family is a living testimony as to how we must depend on God, despite our humanly inclinations to question why bad things happen to good people and doubt if we are truly alone in life. While I haven't had the chance to ask this question face-to-face with my friends, my heart tells me that after everything that they have had to endure, they would still answer that none of us are alone, as God has been their strength and they have clung to Morgan's favorite Bible verse that states, " I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (Philippians 4:13)

There is a stereotype that women are more emotional than men; we are the definition of "All the Feels" much more than our male counterparts, but God made woman because he believed that man needed a companion. Not weaker, but complementary. All created in His Image, therefore containing all of the ingredients that our Maker possesses. Solemn or sappy. Hard or soft. Held-back tears or cry babies . His Image, and perfectly molded.

And on this particular Sunday, I could have been the poster child for the "All the Feels" campaign. I was carrying baggage that I had from Friday that involved uncertainties concerning one of the little girls in my class. Combined with the 9/11 anniversary and the beautiful tribute from my friend while carrying the burden of losing a child in her heart yet still declaring that we are still not alone, it was all I could do to not break down from the emotional overload.

Later that night in our small group, we were asked to complete the phrase "Above all else," The answers ranged from "Keep calm and carry on," "Sleep and sleep often," and "waffles"(child response) on the comedic side to "Love," "Forgive," "Seek God," and "trust God because man will fail." on the serious side. In the Bible, the phrase "Above all else" is followed by "guard your heart because everything you do flows from it." (Proverbs 4:23)

Your feelings and emotions are a window peering into your heart. It affects the way you see the world.

When my pastor spoke those words, they cut through me. Here I was, basically mourning the uncertainties that lied ahead for the little girl in my classroom while my friend was declaring, even as she herself mourned the loss of her only daughter, that we are not alone.

You see, my emotions had taken me to the dark side. I was already mourning a situation in which so much of the unknown had not yet come to light. I was heavy hearted and allowing that darkness to cloud the potential that God was showing me that He could handle and make beautiful. I was never worried about myself when it came to the welfare of the kids in my class, but instead always about them and for a second I allowed clarity to leave the scene and chaos to ensue.

I was choosing the darkness and He was crying out to me, "You are not alone and neither is she!"

I had bought *Katie a pair of shoes because the pair she always wore to school didn't fit her, and almost as if choosing to wallow in grief, I took a picture of them and looked at that picture all weekend. I asked myself things like, "Does she even have any shoes to wear?" and "Is she safe-wherever she is?" I think grief is a normal part of life, but my emotions had taken over and listening to my friend declare that we aren't alone despite the tragedy that her family had experienced helped me to look up and see that He holds the whole world in His hands.

Beloved, guard your heart. Choose Christ. If I had kept my eyes focused on my Heavenly Father, the guarantee that He could handle whatever situation Katie was in would have allowed this classroom mama to rest in Him. Just as Jesus has the power to give sight to the blind, his spirit is capable of guiding your emotions.

When we focus on the problem, we miss out on the blessing. He can calm the chaotic state of your mind. (Pastor Tim)

Father God,
I praise you for making me in Your Image! Thank you for the redirection that you are able to give me when I let my emotions lead me instead of your sweet spirit. Keep my eyes fixed on you because I know you have already overcome this world! Give me eyes to see things the way you do, and a heart to love as you have. Thank you for the precious people that you have placed in my life that are a symbol of what faith, hope, and love look like. Continue to pour out your blessings on those who acknowledge that even in the dark times, you are there. And give the assurance of abundant life that you have to those who need it.
Amen