What a day.

There are just some days, y'all. 

Days when I mourn the disintegration of a family. Days when I see the posture of the world upheld by the strength of each individual. Days when the addict choses death over life. Days when the weary lay cold and naked on our sidewalks as we walk on by. Days when the father is ripped from his family and bound by the shackles that prevent him from leading his family that they so desperately need. Days when the stomachs of the hungry rumble, and the homeless search for a safe haven as they struggle with sickness, held captive by the very environment that keeps them sick. Days that see the inner beauty of God's creation compromised in the mind of the woman who labeled herself a whore before she choosed to believe what God really says about her.

There are just some days, y'all.

And I fall to my knees and cry out for them. Because I want them to know the God I know. I want them to know that their life is not a giant write off because of the choices that they have made or the things that have happened to them that caused these things in their life.

And then I look up and am suddenly taken to the foot of the cross where all of the condemnation of the world is dripping from the feet of a Savior who has taken their pain and made it his own. Who says that they have a life of abundance because of the price that He paid. He asserts that no matter the journey, he is the ending.

So for them, as well as me, I will rejoice in the Lord.

"Lazarus, come out."

I am going to just be competely real for a few minutes so I ask for grace when I put everything on the line for the world to see. You see, the truth is that I am good at dodging the questions that might have you wonder how my faith is, when in all reality, I too struggle. And while I know that I know that I know who my Savior is, finding His will in this mess of life is easier on some days, harder on others.

When my 5-year old niece was first diagnosed with cancer, after the shock had settled, I started to watch for miracles to happen. Obviously, both then and now, I prayed for that one miracle that would come in the version of an "all clear" scan of her body. No cancer. Completely clear. Now, three months later, I am learning to trust God in all things and praise Him as I see my brave brother and sister-in-law wade through the water holding on the promise stated to all of us believers in Isaiah 43:2: "When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. (3) For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior..."

These miracle stories have come, and at first I found my praises being lifted to God for what I was witnessing. People were hearing about my niece and were beginning to pray for the first time in a long time. I even had an atheist tell me that they would "pray to my God on behalf of my niece." I'll take it and rejoice gladly! But before long, a different type of seed was planted and in no time, the bitterness crept in. It was a simple question that sounded something like this: "Do you really think your prayers can change the will of God?" Like a knife in the back, I tried to recover yet searched for the words.  Did I really think my prayers could change the will of God in regards to my precious niece's life? I thought so. But soon my tears were no longer being shed for the souls that were being drawn in to a closer relationship with the Father, rather they were being shed in anger. For example, I remember telling God about how messed up it was for my niece to have to go through hell for someone who had shared with me that "her situation had really made them think about God again." My heart had such a reason to celebrate this, as I mourn regularly over people who don't know the kind of freedom that Christ offered to those who believe. Yet my mind cried out in an imaginary conversation with them, "you know, God has always been here. Does my niece really have to suffer for you to get that?! Because you could have had this all along! Long before the suffering began!" I thank God for my husband who laid his hands over my body that morning and cried and prayed over me. I love you, Jarett. 

There is a famous story in the Bible that refers to one of Jesus's best friends, Lazarus. Lazarus had become sick and when Jesus heard about it, he didn't rush to his side immediately, saying "Lazarus's sickness will not end in death. No, it happened for the glory of God so that the Son of God will receive glory from this." (John 11:4)  So the son of God, the Almighty Healer, the Great Physician, the Great Deliverer, waited. He could have rushed to be with His friend, but instead, he waited. God would have to get his glory or it was all for nothing. Life is but a fleeting moment, filled with the moments from God that impact us somehow, and Jesus knew this. So he waited in order for the glory of God to shine. 

It has been a few weeks since that dark seed was planted, and would you believe it if I told you that the same person who asked me that pivotal question has since returned into my life? I will admit that my initial reaction was to hold my breath and wait for the scary blow of [her] reality to come baring down on me. Thankfully I belong to a patient God with a sense of humor and have dumped the rotten harvest from that first encounter  back through the gates of hell  where it belongs and now am full with the truth about God's promises that enable me to plant His seeds in her heart.  Have I figured out the answer to the question "are my prayers really going to change the will of God?" No, but I don't need to right now. All I need to know is that God is good all the time. And all the time, God is good. (And let her know, too.) 

Love your neighbor as yourself.

I believe that we are called to love. As simple as it sounds, many times we allow things to hinder us from our calling. Maybe it is politics. Maybe it is socio-economic differences. Maybe simply reaching out is hard to do, as I have heard from people before.

This entry is a little different, as I would rather the pictures speak for themselves.

A pair of shorts, the empty remnants of a snack bag, and a pair of sandals represent someone who might have been looking for the Conway Ministry warming station.

Signs of hope to point people needing refuge in the right direction. 

Was the basketball held by a child today?

The steps that lead to a warm meal, warm bed, and a caring team.

Signs of hope. 

Would the tear freeze to my cheek?

Church doors. A sign of hope from people who love. 

I should have rethought my shoe choices. By the time I had walked the premises and prayed for two hours, my feet were burning from the cold.

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