Author: roaringwomenblog

I am a pretty even keel kind of person. No drama here! Probably because I grew up with boys and raised boys. Anyway, I love women! (You see why, right?) I want to connect with my sisters. I love our strength, our heart, our fierceness.

Not Just the Thief of Joy

I’ve heard it several times: comparison is the thief of joy. But there’s another lesson in there.

Imagine five chairs. In those five chairs sit five people. Each person comes from a different walk of life. Each person comes from their own point of pain.

In chair number one sits A, a woman raised by a single mother, with no real father figure in the picture. She’s never experienced a daddy/daughter dance, no father to scare the bad boys away, no one to walk her down the aisle. All of these missed experiences and her personality have led her to make choices that someone with a father would never have made.

In the second chair sits B. He had a father present who he wished had disappeared like A’s dad. His own dad was an abusive alcoholic who forgot what pain he inflicted the night before. His personality and experiences led him to make choices most people with good parents would never have made.

In the third chair sits C. She had wonderful parents who loved her, cared for her, and saw to her every need. But they don’t know that her uncle molested her when she was a child. They don’t know that the experience along with her personality have weighed on her and caused her to withdraw.

In the fourth chair sits D. He has wonderful parents who loved him, cared for him, and saw to his every need. But he just lost his younger brother to cancer. They don’t understand that losing his brother along with changes to his personality have weighed on him and caused him to withdraw.

In the last chair sits E. She had wonderful parents, hasn’t lost any loved ones, is married to a wonderful man, has her own beautiful children. But she just lost her job due to downsizing. She is loud, boisterous, and annoying and no one knows she’s like that to hide her fear.

Each one of these chairs holds a person with pain. The human condition is to look at each of those chairs and compare stories to see who to feel sorry for. In your mind, there’s one that stands out as the most sorrowful and one that stands out as a whiner. Each person reading this will find the one that they connect to the most (because that’s what we do, typically. We look for common ground.) And some will even create a scale of hurt from least to greatest.

The problem is that we are so focused on the chair (their pain) that we forget to see the people. Comparison isn’t just the thief of joy, it’s also the thief of compassion.

Jesus gave us two commands: love God, love people. When we look at Jesus’ ministry, we see that while He acknowledged their situation, He always spoke to the person’s heart. We need to be careful that in following Jesus and His commands, we don’t become blinded to the hearts because of the situation.

It’s too easy to look at one and say “THAT’S what you’re hurt by?!” Because we’ve experienced something we think is “worse” or “more devastating” we pshaw the wounded soul in front of us.

Pain is pain the same way sin is sin. As in, there are no degrees or levels. A’s pain is as valid as E’s pain. B’s pain is as valid as D’s pain. C’s pain is as valid as A’s pain. Each one of those people, with their own strengths and weaknesses, is dealing with experiences that truly caused them pain. Who am I to say their pain is inconsequential? Who do I think I am to minimalize or marginalize their pain because it doesn’t match up to my version of pain?

As a Christ follower I cannot do that. If I am to love God and love people, I have to let go of comparison. I certainly do not want it to steal my joy. But more than that, I abhor the thought of comparison stealing my compassion. We live in a broken world, ruled by comparison. But His ways are not our ways and we need to be lining up with Him. If we don’t, we will lose the wounded souls before us, in their individual chairs of pain.

What are shoes?

What are shoes?

Psalm 68:19
Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits, even the God of our salvation. Selah.

I woke up on Saturday, October 19th, ready to cry at the drop of a hat.

Maybe it was the stress of my life. Maybe I was just emotional. Who knows? But I was overwhelmed.

Still, it was Jesus Burger day and I was excited to share the Club 3D cards with our Jesus Burger Friends. Jesus Burger is a homeless outreach in our city. Cards from our kids church group, 1st through 6th grade, had been added to the hygiene bags that I go to hand out. They were so precious and I had prayed for the people to be blessed by the simple words of children.

I made it there just as the devotion was getting going, and the leader was saying that you couldn’t care where the people came from, what they looked like, how they talked. That none of that mattered because we were there to love them in the way that Jesus did. Now, I was already emotional, but I felt my heart just shredding at those words. I kept seeing those I had come in contact with in the past and my heart broke for all of them, one by one. Friends, do not pray “break my heart for what breaks Yours” unless you are prepared for the grief. I hurt the whole day. And while only a couple of hours was spent at Jesus Burger, the impact lasted ALL day. A week later and I was still raw. I can still, today, feel the shards of grief that are stuck like slivers in my heart.

Today Mr. Monte Wike spoke of the verse above in Psalms, how God daily loads us with benefits. But it’s like the manna from heaven for the Israelites. It is enough for the day, and yet renews each morning. All I could think was that I didn’t understand my emotions and that I didn’t even know what I needed and here’s Mr. Monte telling us that God gives us what we need-daily. Which is . . . Well, just simple minded, really. Of course God knows what I need, and daily – and it doesn’t matter if I know or not, He knows what I need.

I left the devotion thanking God that He takes care of my simple minded self and went to hand out hygiene bags. While handing out the bags, a lady approached. She is a regular there. Usually she comes with a friend, but today, she was alone. Someone asked about her friend who always comes with her and she said she had committed suicide. That was a stab through my heart.

A little bit after that a man came up and I cringed, spiritually, from him. I didn’t understand my reaction, so I pushed myself to talk to him. He was pleasant enough. But then the women started coming and it became very evident that he was their pimp. He, and his friend, avoided going anywhere near the pulpit and the singing/preaching. My spirit was angry. My heart hurt. And I was silenced by God.

A woman came up. She was wearing shoes that were 3 sizes too big. She asked for 8.5 sized shoes. There were none. My heart broke again. Jesus said “give her yours“. I argued. I didn’t have a spare set in my car. I have to go to work. I can’t go barefoot. “Give her yours“. And what am I supposed to do? “Give her yours“. I discreetly took my shoes off and said “hey, see if these will fit”. She was so excited. She tried them on. Next thing I know, she has them off, handed to a man, and is trying on another pair from . . . where? And she’s saying how God is so good as she’s walking away with the last pair on and my pair dangling from the hand of the man with her.

What the . . . But I can’t be mad. I just want to cry.

Because I don’t have it in me to be mad.

Because Jesus gave them away, not me.

Because my heart hurts.

Because God loads us daily with benefits.

Because another soul took her own life and what are shoes compared to that?

Because there are women slaved to prostitute, and what are shoes compared to that?

Because most of these I meet at Jesus Burger have no home, no washing machine, no electricity, no running water, no transportation.

And what are shoes, compared to that?

Changing God’s Mind

Changing God’s Mind

I have a question that I have been asking God for . . . oh, about 18 years now. I started asking the question when life seemed incredibly, ridiculously hard. Part of me wondered, had I brought this on myself? Part of me railed at God for not moving me out of the trials. Part of me blamed others for making my life harder.

So I asked Him. Is there a difference, Lord, between Your will and Your Perfect Will? For 18 years that question has popped up repeatedly. What have I done wrong, God? Where are You? Why are things so difficult? I’m doing what you asked. I’m attending church, I’m reading the Word, I’m praying. But, good grief, why? Why all this strife? Why all this misery? What if I had not followed my heart and chose to stop to listen to You? But what about Your influence in the path that I was on?

Dear Reader, let me tell you a story . . .

I was born originally into a house of alcoholism, abuse and neglect. These are not stories that I heard of my upbringing; these are the memories I have of my childhood. At the age of 6 I was rescued. An aunt and uncle figured out the problem and I went to live with them. All of that is a story in itself. But, escape I did, and went to live with the aunt and uncle. From now on I will refer to them as Mom and Dad.

I lived with Mom and Dad from the age of 6 to the age of 12. At the age of 12, Dad decided to leave us, so I lived with Mom until the age of 25 (basically. I mean, I had that temporary stint out on my own, but you know . . .) Anyway, all of that was angst to me until I broke free of it at 19. It took me a while. I was ungrateful, angry, resentful, and took “poor, pitiful me” to a whole other level. But God got my attention, and I started making necessary changes in my thought processes. That was when I started to become friends with God. And He and I were pals. I still made mistakes. Show me a 19 year old that doesn’t! But I was learning and leaning. I was taking in what I could. It was rough and bumpy and filled with heartache, but I knew God had my back, I knew He loved me and would never leave me.

At 24 I met a man. He is currently my husband, but when I first met him, I was not impressed. He was everything I wasn’t looking for, I was sure of it. While I had grown up in a strict household and attended a very strict church, he seemed to have not had any of that. That was all just looks, on the surface, though. As I got to know him -mostly because he kept popping up in front of me, sometimes through no fault of his own- I realized that his heart was beautiful. And I fell for the heart. I didn’t know what it meant back then but looking back now I see that we were unequally yoked. While his core principles were the same and he loved God, we were still on different playing fields. At the dumb age of 24, I just believed that it gave us depth. I could not have been more wrong. What we have now because of it, is depth. What it gave us back then was heartache.

But God had a hand in it all. I just didn’t know that until MUCH later. To hear my husband say “but I prayed for you. I prayed that God would send me someone who would love me the way I needed to be loved,” actually broke my heart. God set me on this path. He directed my steps. Yes, I was foolish and made mistakes. Yes, I brought a lot of misery on myself. But it was also already orchestrated and set in motion.

He has his own story to tell and maybe one day he will let me tell it. But for now we’ll leave it at the very basic explanation that he had trust issues. Rightfully so, I might add. But still . . . I had to account for every second I wasn’t in his presence. This was before cell phones, you youngsters, so imagine having to tell someone your whereabouts every five minutes but you have lost your phone and no one around you has one either, except that ancient land line. Yeah. Deserted island and no communication but tell me where you are! It stressed me out so much while we were engaged that I broke it off. But when he apologized, and told me that he was wrong, and that he loved me, I believed it. I knew it was true! I just didn’t realize that it wasn’t fixed. And I fell for this man like a ton of bricks, y’all. There was no one else for me. There is no one else for me. We were engaged a year, then got married in 1995. Even with the break up and reconciliation, I fought his constant insecurity and the ever present demand of my time accounting for the next 5 years. At year 3, I started really getting tired of it. I was not a toddler, I was married. He was supposed to be a partner not a jailer. Had there been any indication of abuse in his nature, I would have taken off. However, there was no such bone in his body. Only insecurity and low self-esteem. So I tolerated it. And I was so in love and afraid of confrontation that I was his doormat. Whatever he wanted to accuse me of, it was fine because it wasn’t true. But then I started making poor choices. I was staying out later after work. I was taking my time coming home because I knew it drove him crazy. I would leave the house and not say where I was going. And we would go sometimes as much as a week without talking to each other. None of these were helping my marriage. But I was depressed, and frustrated and stuck between a rock of his insecurity and a hard place of my own making. At year 7 (5 years married), I snapped. I wasn’t doing it anymore. I loved him. I had two beautiful boys by him. But I was not a doormat. Something had to change. I certainly had. Gone was the old me. The new me was scary. The new me was fierce. The new me was still going to fight, but not the way I used to. For Pete’s sake! You will know I’m mad, you will understand my point, and you will back the hell off! And he, bless his heart, had no idea what to do with new Pam. I didn’t know what to do with new Pam. I scared me. I just knew it was going to be different. I was beyond sick of it.

And then I started wondering. Had I brought this on myself? Did my failure to listen to something God might have been telling me lead me down this path? Could this heartache have been avoided by running the other way from the unequal yoking? After 18 years I am still learning the difference between God’s will and God’s Perfect Will. Part of my confusion comes from the vision I had on our third date. We had been talking. I was finally attentive because I had seen his heart, but at this point I was by no means swayed. My roommate came out to tell me something, I turned to her to listen, and when I turned back around, I had a vision. My oldest son sat on his knee. I immediately turned away again. No, God. Just no. I wasn’t ever having children. My upbringing had convinced me that you can never be sure of a partner. Or that, if you were sure of them when it was just the two of you, you couldn’t be sure once kids came along.

Needless to say, I found myself married with children and still struggling. Today, if you asked “Would I do it again?”, I don’t know what my answer would be. But since we can’t go back, I can ask myself, “What can I learn from this?” But, more often, I found myself asking “was this Your will?” And I still draw a blank sometimes. Yes, I had the vision. Does that mean that God was the orchestrator, or does that mean He took my choice and formed a plan? I’ve heard it said “well, God knows everything, even the choices we make, so He is in control of everything.” And I do believe He is in control. But I also know He gives us choices. I think He sets the choices before us, wanting us to make the one that serves Him best, but allowing us to have our desires. The only way we can be in His perfect will is if we are asking Him continuously, “what is Your choice?” And then following His guidance. Where I so often trip up is in the asking for His guidance. I’m sure that, had I asked, so many of the trials could have been avoided. Had I sought God’s guidance, I could have missed some of the misery entirely. But I think that some of it still would have been my lot, because we grow from the trials. At least, we should. If you are in the middle of difficulty and your eyes are turned toward God, you can’t help but learn. If you are facing sorrow, and you don’t ask why but ask what can I learn from this, you will definitely grow in the Lord. Are you facing a storm? In the middle of difficulty? Need an answer? Stop asking “why me?” Why you? Because everyone goes through trouble, and usually because we don’t line our choices up with God’s Word or His choices. Learn to pray “Your will be done” and to ask what His will is. Part of what we fail to understand, though, is that not only do we have freedom of choice, but so do all the other people in our sphere of influence. And just because you may be following God’s guidance, doesn’t mean that everyone else is. While we are certainly subject to the consequences of our own decisions, sometimes we are also subject to the consequences of the decisions of others. There is no limit to the ways our lives are buffeted by others. The important thing is to do your part of following after God and trust that He is looking out for you. You can do nothing about the other people and their choices, nor can you force them into doing things your way. The only thing you can do is take charge of your own emotions, and then give EVERYTHING up to God.

Can you change His mind? Sure. Read Exodus, Jeremiah, Amos, Jonah. I’m not sure it’s a true change of thought, though. It seems much more a father relenting than anything else. But the “effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.” He listens to us and grants us our prayers when they line up with His true nature (love) and shine the light on His glory and Presence.

Would I change His mind, if I could go back and fervently pray for a pass? I think I possibly could have. But then it wouldn’t have been me loving my husband. It would have been someone else. And they may not have done as good a job as I have. And I wouldn’t have the two beautiful man-children that I have. Because I was NEVER having kids. I could have changed God’s mind. I’m sure of it. But even with the heartache and trauma, His plan is best. So I’ll just trust His will for my life. This isn’t the life I ordered, but it’s infinitely more beautiful and meaningful that what I picked.

What’s Your Word for 2019?

Several years ago, I was given a journal and a photocopied article from Guidepost magazine.  The article was an interview with Debbie Macomber, a writer, who discussed her tradition of having a word for the year.  Sometimes, she chose the word herself.  Sometimes, the word was given to her by a friend or loved one.  Sometimes, the word seemed to be sent from God Himself.  So taking the journal and the hint, I started trying to figure out what my word for the year would be.

There have been difficult years.  The year FORGIVENESS was my word was an agonizing year.  Trying to navigate through what God was teaching me about forgiveness had to be the most painful thing ever, up to that point.  I’ve also had HOPE, FEAR, PATIENCE, EMPATHY, and WORSHIP.  Some years, obviously, are easier than others.  Some years I have struggled with the lessons He teaches.

This year, the word for 2019 is VICTORY.  This is the hardest one yet.  How can that be, you ask?  That’s a great word!  That, my friend, is an amazing thing to look forward to! Right?  Let me explain.

For those of you who don’t know, my husband was sick, then injured, then laid off at the beginning of 2015. He decided to apply for disability due to his lupus.  Four years later, we are in the act of submitting the eighth appeal, even though his health has declined to the point that he needs oxygen 24/7 and spends as much time (if not more) in the hospital than out. In that 4 years, we lost 80% of our income and were thrown a huge curve ball by the IRS. We continue to fight for disability, deal with depression (his, mine, the kids), deal with his declining health, and try to keep us afloat in the face of bills, bills, bills.

Last July, I was faced with a TRUTH from God that shook me to my core. He showed me how I had been specifically chosen for this path. He showed me that I was the one called to this task and placed here by Him. Please don’t misunderstand me. We are all called to the path that He has laid out before us. Sometimes those paths are difficult or painful or veer off on a detour because of the choices we make, or because of the choices others make. Our God is a God of free will, but He will absolutely use the worst situations in our lives to bring about beautiful, inspiring and amazing things for us, if we let Him. How many times have you looked back and been able to see such a thing? This relationship was terrible and toxic, but see my beautiful child. Being fired from that job hurt worse than anything but look at the awesome job I have now. Truthfully, there is good that comes out of anything for those that believe in Him. It is hard sometimes to see the beauty from the ashes, but that could be because the beauty resides in the heavenly realms with God and out of our natural vision. Still, it is painful. It is hurtful. It is difficult. It is NOT FAIR! And I was faced with this sudden understanding that I had been chosen specifically for this hard path, this difficult life.

I am not blameless. Some things on this path were definitely inflicted because of my bad choices. My need to prove myself worthy or prove someone else right took over at times, and I caved to the enemy’s schemes. I could have made my life easier at times. Not by much, but still. It seems that the majority of my life has been me being buffeted about by the choices and consequences of others. And my choice, aside from those bad ones, has been to lean on God. He is my Rock. My Fortress. My ever present Help in time of trouble. And then He gave me that TRUTH. I was wounded and angry. I felt that I would have been better off remaining ignorant of His plan. And I was angry at my Maker. Most of the explosive anger has simmered down. It took me a month to even acknowledge Him. And then another month or so to speak to Him. But, like being angry with your spouse, I spoke about the day to day things and avoided the elephant in the room. Last weekend He called me on it and reminded me to forgive Him. He does, after all, have my best interests at heart.

There I was, right before Christmas. A new year around the corner, a new word, and not even interested in finding one. Pfffft! What would be the point anyway? (Note: There is always a point. Don’t be fooled.)

The week before Christmas I was reading an article online and the word VICTORY popped out at me. I mean POPPED out at me. Pffffffffffftttt! A few days later, I’m listening to the radio and some lady is talking about her journey and she talks about her VICTORY. Whatev. The Sunday before Christmas, one of our worship leaders says between songs that she feels 2019 will be the year of VICTORY for someone. She ain’t talking to me. The Sunday after New Year’s the second worship song is You Have Won the VICTORY. Really? The next Monday, I finally crack open my new study journal. The first chapter I’m supposed to read is Genesis 14 and it’s titled “The Blessing of VICTORY for God’s People.” Oookkaaaay, God? The following Wednesday, my women’s group is starting the first lesson in The Armor of God by Priscilla Shirer. The first blank I’m supposed to fill in from the video lesson is VICTORY. Ok. So how many confirmations does it take? I am perfectly aware that the word victory has probably shown up in my life on a regular basis. Is there any church or Christian unfamiliar with the word? But to have it thrown at me so much in such a short time, I had to agree, finally, that VICTORY might just be my word for 2019.

The hardest part, is that at this point in this journey, what in all of creation could VICTORY look like? Does it mean healing for my husband? Does it mean he wins his disability? Does it mean a mutually acceptable resolution with the IRS? Does it mean I won’t be working four jobs? Does it mean my oldest son will be able to find a job? Does it mean my youngest will win a scholarship? Does it mean all the work on our house might actually get done or at least begun with a hope of continuing? I have been so beat down with our circumstances and issues and battles that I cannot even imagine what VICTORY means, let alone fathom what life could look like for us in 2020.

At least I know that God has good things in store and that He has good plans for us. I also know that prayer is key and that I’m going to have to get back on the wagon. After the TRUTH came out, I kind of stepped back on the serious prayer I had been active in. Now I know that I have to jump back in with both feet because VICTORY can NOT happen WITHOUT PRAYER!

How about you? Do you have a word for 2019? Was it gifted to you by a friend? Beat over your head by God? LOL. What’s your word and how did you get it? And what action does it mean you need to take? Are you ready?

The Big Picture

Hebrews 11:1 Now FAITH is being sure of what we hope for, being convinced of what we do not see.
Romans 8:28 And we know that all things WORK TOGETHER for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose,
1 Corinthians 2:9 But just as it is written, “Things that no eye has seen, or ear heard, or mind imagined, are the things God has PREPARED for those who love Him.”

Each one of us is a puzzle piece. We see our lives and know our borders. We may even see those that connect to us. And our situations are our whole view. But if you saw the bigger picture like God does, you would understand that struggle you are going through, or that valley that you are in. The only problem with this illustration is that it is a single facet of our existence and God sees the WHOLE thing. He sees the past mistakes and triumphs, the future decisions and paths, and the present predicament. Putting your trust in Jehovah-Jireh is more than believing He will provide. Jehovah-Jireh is most often interpreted as “The Lord will provide”. But the literal translation is The Lord sees as in “is seeing to it”. He is seeing the bigger picture. And our edges may have started to come apart or a piece been torn off, but we still fit into the bigger picture. We still create, when we are all connected, that image that God sees. It may change, that image, in His eyes because we have free will and may not sometimes fit in the spot He had chosen for us. It may have small gaps where we as an individual have let some hurt gouge a part of our piece in the image. But that image isn’t going away. And there isn’t anything you can do about it. Don’t want to be in the picture? You can’t NOT be. Don’t like the image you see? Then change it. You CAN choose to line up with God’s picture for your life. But you still won’t understand it all. Because you aren’t looking at the whole thing. But you can realize that your little segment is just that. Little. There is a larger design. There is a grander scheme. And understanding THAT will make the trials that much more bearable. Understanding that there is a puzzle master who is fitting the pieces together to make that image, should make you feel like nothing is pointless.

#believingisNOTseeing #DaringFaith #completetrust #highridgelv

If You Can’t Find the Humor . . .

. . . . just go home!

Seriously. You know when you have one of those days? The kind of day that is just ridiculous from beginning to end? The kind of day that makes you just want to go back home, crawl in bed, and start all over again tomorrow? No? Well, let me enlighten you. That way, when you think you are having a day like that, you can remember mine and realize yours isn’t so bad. Then again, maybe yours was worse. I’m sorry.

On a Tuesday I was at work. Not my usual work, but an extra job for this one week that were long days. My youngest son, A, calls me and says that his dog, Jake, got out. When Jake came back home his face was swollen on the left and he wouldn’t open his eye. My son was worried, naturally. But hey, I work 3 jobs to keep us afloat. I don’t have money for a dog. Still, this is Jake we are talking about. So I tell my son to keep an eye on him. There’s not much we can do, we’ll just see what it looks like in the morning and decide then. Now, I thought about the dog, don’t get me wrong. My husband, B, thought that Jake may have a concussion. We assumed that when he got out he probably had been kicked by a horse or cow and that we should just monitor him. Thinking about the dog and being willing to run him up to the vet are two different things, though. What money I have goes to more important things.

On Wednesday, the swelling in Jake’s face had gone down, though he still wouldn’t open the left eye. He whined a bit, but really, he seemed to be his usual snarly self. So I left it alone and said let’s wait a little more.

Then Thursday hit. My oldest son, Z, had a few extra dollars and I convinced him to put his car in the shop to see why it was having trouble starting. I had him take me to my extra job. When he got back home, he found his dad had gone to the ER. (My husband has lupus and this is just life.) Meanwhile, I had called the vet, who, of course, wanted to physically look at Jake and decide what needed to be done. So I called my oldest son and asked him to go get Jake and take him to the vet, not realizing my husband was still in the ER. I got a phone call around 3 p.m. from a stranger telling me that Z had flipped my car. I could hear him sobbing in the background. Now I’m frantic. I let my husband know what happened and tried to get to the scene. When I get there, he is standing upright, talking to my mom and laughing (albeit a little hysterically). I don’t care. I’m thrilled there is no blood.

Side note: Y’all! God had his hand on that boy and that accident! He wasn’t speeding, or texting. He DIDN’T slow down for the curve, and accelerated when the tire slipped onto the shoulder. But my tires were bad and one blew, then another. It sent him into a tailspin which then flipped my car. I drive up to the scene and the boy is standing there, the car is loaded on a tow truck, there isn’t any broken glass, or exceedingly visible damage other than a broken headlight. There have been so many things to be thankful for. I’m thankful that I thought the night before to take the loose 12×12 tiles out of my back seat. I’m thankful he had the accident in my car and not his. I’m thankful that the hand of God was on that boy. The car flipped, landed on the driver’s side, and skidded into a mound of dirt that had been recently delivered for the homeowners to work on their driveway-right where he wrecked. He tells of climbing out of the passenger side (vertically, mind you) and coming down off the car to see the driver’s side mirror holding the car up. A minor dent in the fender of the driver’s side front tire and some very small minimal scratches is all there is to show for it.

So, I come up on the scene and he is okay. I sent him straight to the family doctor, anyway. I work out things with the tow truck driver, believing my insurance is adequate, and speak to Officer Payne (nicest guy there ever was!). Once the major points are settled, I head back to work. Literally nothing that I can do at this point, so I just go back to work.

On the way back to work, I get a phone call from the vet. Jake has a ruptured eye and it will have to be removed. I’m not lying – I laughed. Then I said, “wow, I guess the hoof just caught his eye and nothing else?” The lady on the phone says “I don’t think Jake was kicked. He’s such a small dog that if he had been kicked, it would have broken bones in his face.”

“Well, how – ”

“The vet thinks, because of all the stickers and mattes in his fur, that he probably was rolling in the grass and took a stick to the eye.”

“He rolled in the grass? And. Poked. Out. His. Own. Eye?!” No way. Just, no way. I had a bit of a hysterical fit of laughter. She tells me he’ll have to have surgery and that they will keep him for the night and do the surgery first thing in the morning. Ok. I’m too stunned to think through the ramifications of that.

Then I get a message from my husband. They are keeping him. His oxygen levels are up and down and they can’t get a handle on what might be the problem. He’ll be spending the night at least.

I end my “Thursday from the enemy” at the hospital, spending the night with my husband in his room.

Friday morning, I find out my insurance is not what I thought and that I owe an astronomical amount to the wrecker service for the tow and the impound and all that. Not only that, but it has two flat tires. I’m not driving it anywhere. So, I set to work, while at work, on how to get the car back to my house. My first instinct is to get my church ladies praying but also to ask if anyone has a car hauler. In the middle of trying to figure out how to get the car, one friend asks if I mind if she shares it on Facebook. Sure, I say. Maybe someone will have a car hauler there and I will see what I can figure out about the finances while we wait on an answer. Unknown to me, that friend had posted that I needed help, financial and otherwise. Within half an hour, I had the funds to get the car out of impound, have it delivered to a tire shop, get 4 tires put on it, and get my dog out of the vet, with money to spare. I was overwhelmingly blessed and amazed. I was humbled. With all the crazy going on, money was the one thing I didn’t have to think about. God is so good! It was such a blessing to not worry about the money end of things. But I still had my husband in the hospital. And Z was having back spasms.

Saturday morning I went to get the car out of impound, have it towed to the tire shop, and get Jake out of the vet. Poor Jake. He looked worse than my car. Although, once it had tires on it and I needed to drive it home, it was very apparent there was much more wrong than met the eye. Still, I got it home. And went to work. I was thanking Jesus all day for the good that had come out of so much bad. I was able to come up with “Thank you Jesus” nearly every minute it seemed. When it was time to go home, my youngest, A, showed up. I told him I wanted to go see Dad as soon as I finished up, before we went home. To which he responded, “Well, Z is at the Vet ER with Sadie. We probably need to get him.”

“What?! Now what?”

“Sadie found Jake’s medicine on the counter, pulled it down, chewed through the bottle and ate 9 of the 10 pain pills he had. Z got one of the pills out of her mouth at home, but since she ate the other 8 we were worried. So Z said to take her to the vet ER.”

“You have to be kidding me.” We called Z. They had Sadie in the back, it might be a bit. So we run up to the hospital and see Dad, then head over to the vet ER to see how Sadie is doing. When we get there, Z is hanging out in the front, waiting on us and Sadie. I go to check her out and the story is that they induced vomiting and got 3 of the 8 pills out of her, but she had already ingested 5 of them. So they gave her a shot to counter act the pills she had ingested. Y’all. That dog was higher than a kite. Drunker than a skunk.

She comes out from the back and she is so HAPPY! That tail is going 90 miles an hour and its leading her rear end all over the place. But you can tell her head is having a hard time keeping up. She couldn’t walk a straight line to save her life. We manage to get her in the car, but she’s so happy she can’t sit still. We just sit in the car and we are dying laughing. The week has been crazy. We have a one-eyed Jake. We are down to one car. We have a suicidal, drunk dog. We have 1,000 things to be thankful for. But, right then, it was just funny. I said, “If we can keep Rascal safe, we’ll be okay. One dog left. Let’s keep him safe.” Z starts laughing harder. I’m just looking at him.

“2 out of 3 dogs. 2 out of 3 cars. Mom.”

A practically yells “That’s not a good percentage!”

“What are you talking about?”

“2/3 is 66.6%! That’s just the devil!”

We all roar with laughter then. I think part of it was that we were just punch drunk and oversensitive. But part of it was funny too. No matter what was intended, it was all taken care of. That “money to spare” I talked about earlier? It covered Sadie’s ER vet bill. It also covered 3 months of oxygen service for my husband when he was finally released from the hospital the following Wednesday.

We are in the middle of a study at our church called Daring Faith. The memory verse for the lesson the following week after these events was Romans 8:28. “But we know that all things work to the good for those that love Him and who are called according to His purpose.” I know I’m called according to His purpose. Even if the purpose is just to love others with His love. And I KNOW I love Him. So all these things that the enemy meant for evil, were made ok. I don’t know why. I don’t have to know why. I only have to trust God. Trusting God is our lifeline. Well, and humor. Humor helps.

A Plumb Line

A Plumb Line

My family and I have been through SOME stuff the last three years. Some good stuff, some bad stuff and then the stuff that is just . . .well, stuff. It happens in all our lives. It’s my belief that life is one long roller coaster, if you will. There are ups and there are downs. There are those moments when the track is flat. There are the moments when you feel like you are climbing with no idea of what’s waiting for you at the top. At least, this has been my experience. I would love to be wrong but I’m pretty sure this is how it goes for the general population, regardless of whatever means you use to measure your circumstances to others. It is the human condition.

After a year of SOME bad stuff, I learned how to let go. I found that I was literally at the end of my rope, I had no power, and no solutions. Coming to that realization, I cried out to God. “You know what, God, it’s all yours!” I was angry and frustrated and broken-hearted. “You can take all of it!” I cried for hours. And, bless the Lord, He did. He taught me that night that He really does have it all. He gave me the ultimate Peace. He brought me through all that sorrow to a place of rest. Did any of my circumstances change? Absolutely not. For the next two years hardly anything changed. Nothing really changed, that is, except that I had given it all to God. And the Peace that comes with that total surrender is the most amazing thing. It allowed me to do what I need to do, without the exhaustion, without the dread of daybreak. I no longer woke up fearing the next day, the next week, the next month. People would ask “How are you” and I could honestly say “I’m good”. Sure, there were times that I wasn’t having a great day or when circumstances were troubling, but they weren’t overwhelming me. They weren’t dragging me under the tidal wave.

Through those next two years, we still encountered SOME stuff. Some bad, some good, and then just some stuff. It is still a daily walk that requires me to give it to God. Daily. I find that taking my eyes off my Creator for any length of time allows the “What if” and “What would I do” questions to come up and take over my thought processes. And the answer is always “I can do nothing”. Taking my eyes off God is not an option for me anymore. I HAVE to surrender it to Him. I cannot function any other way. But I am learning another lesson now. Isn’t that just the way He is?

Even though I had given everything up to God, it doesn’t mean I am lining up with His plan. Even though I had even given my family up to God, doesn’t mean they are lining up with His plan. I am trying to bring myself into line, with the help of the Holy Spirit, and I am praying my family does the same. But tiny little choices, every day, can keep me out of alignment. Those insignificant little decisions can throw the line off by a hair. And if you add up enough hairs you get a full ponytail. Ha ha. You get my point.

He’s been working on me (and my family) but it has only been recently that it has started to look like we are finally lining up. I’m assuming all this started happening when I started taking my family and our situation back from the enemy. I had to get to a point where I had to put the concept behind Matthew 11:12 into practice. The verses leading up to it and including that verse refers to the sudden HUGE interest of the mass of people to hear the words of the prophet and Jesus. In the same way that the people clamored for the teachings, I am clamoring for restoration. I want Jesus to say of me, “heaven has suffered violence and the violent take it by force”. I want to bombard heaven with my request – no, my demand – for the blessings that Jesus himself preached and practiced: healing, peace, salvation, and love. I am bombarding heaven with prayers of His guidance, His calling, His mercy, and His plans. And He gave me this illustration:

I play a game called 1010. It’s a puzzle game where you try to create a full line using the blocks you are given. You can create a full line either horizontally or vertically. Once you create a full line, the line disappears. You lose the game when you have no space left to place the next block and therefore can’t create a full line. I have been playing for a few months now. My high score is 6103 and I have been trying to break that barrier for a while. I’m sure there are plenty of others out there with much higher scores. I don’t claim to be great at it, but I enjoy it and it helps me relax, strangely enough.

One day, in the middle of this taking heaven by force, I was praying and kept seeing these blocks and seeing a line forming. I couldn’t believe myself. Why am I thinking about this game? In the middle of praying here! Get out of my head! But then I’d be praying and there were these blocks again. I got to where I was seeing blocks when I wasn’t praying. Just to see if I was obsessed, I stopped playing the game for several days. But I was still seeing the blocks. So I had to ask God, “Is this You?” (I don’t claim to be quick, y’all!) And I saw the blocks again in prayer. Then He gave me understanding. I heard him saying that these blocks represent His plan, His will for my family. I saw each piece fitting into place, one at a time. “Why are they all vertical, Lord? You could make a line horizontally, too”. (Me instructing God how to play. I don’t claim to be bright, y’all.) To which He replied, “This is my plumb line. Your family will line up. You will line up. You need only surrender and continue to take your family back.” And then this:
Isaiah 54:11-17
O troubled one, storm-crushed, uncomforted! see, your stones will be framed in fair colours, and your bases will be sapphires. I will make your towers of rubies, and your doors of carbuncles, and the wall round you will be of all sorts of beautiful stones. And all your builders will be made wise by the Lord; and great will be the peace of your children. All your rights will be made certain to you: have no fear of evil, and destruction will not come near you. See, they may be moved to war, but not by my authority: all those who come together to make an attack on you, will be broken against you. See, I have made the iron-worker, blowing on the burning coals, and making the instrument of war by his work; and I have made the waster for destruction. No instrument of war which is formed against you will be of any use; and every tongue which says evil against you will be judged false. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness comes from me, says the Lord.

My response is “Ok, Lord. Have Your way.” There is no other answer for me. I have tried to do it my way, and He taught me surrender. I have tried a completely hands off approach, and He taught me to “take it by force”. The difference is that I am storming heaven’s gates and not haranguing my family. He is still teaching me. I will always be learning something from the Master. But He is faithful. He is patient. He is loving. As long as I am willing to both surrender my will and be violent in prayer, He will restore us. I am excited to see the work God is doing!

What is He doing in your life? Have you learned surrender? What have you had to “take by force”? If you’ll start by asking “What do you have for me, Lord,” you might be surprised. While He may not lay out a picture for you of what your life will look like, He will pull out the plumb line of His will and help you start lining things up. Be open, be surrendered, be violent in prayer. The results will be amazing!

Stop Touching Everything!

As an adult I learned of a “personality test” that helped me figure out what my “Love Language” is. Most of you who know me (or know someone who knows me) knows what I’m talking about. But if you don’t, read on.

There are 5 love languages: Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service, Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, and Physical Touch. Whichever of these languages you speak, you probably are very good at living them. Typically, if your love language is Receiving Gifts, you give them as well as you receive them. If Words of Affirmation make you feel loved, you probably affirm the people in your life. You get the idea.

There is also the possibility that you have been deeply scarred by the wrong use/negative end of the language. If you speak Quality Time then the lack of it as a child can be detrimental to your feelings of self worth. If you cherish Acts of Service but had to fend for yourself as a child, then you are probably living the polar opposite of your language.

My Love Language is Physical Touch. In my early childhood I experienced the very negative end of my love language. When I was adopted at the age of 6, I had to learn to adapt to healthy forms of touch. I think I was very resistant to ANY touch though, because I don’t remember much of it, although it may have been there. My memory is very faulty. If I had to explain it, I’d say that if the situation wasn’t hugely life altering, I didn’t focus on the event. So much of my life, to this day, is wiped clean in my memories because it wasn’t earth shattering. I remember the important stuff, like the birth of my children. But when we went to the bay and swam that one time and it was so great, you know? No. I don’t remember. So, basically, my life is great! How can I be bogged down by that one time that kid was mean to me, if I don’t remember it? And I have recovered so much from the early trauma, thanks to Mom who was my counselor, that I operate in my love language in a healthy way.

Still, there are some memories that hang in there. Like Dad tossing me in the air, or Mama giving me a squeeze. But I think, because they are associated with touch, that is why they stick. Including the memory (well, memories) of my mom saying things like “Do you have to touch every one”, “Quit touching those”, and “Stop touching everything.” (Sorry Mom 😉). I have to say, that even as an adult, I still catch myself running my hand along a clothes rack or just touching that breakable thing that I’m afraid to pick up. I loved my kids when they were little (and babysitting now) because I love hugs and snuggles and face patting.

So when I took this test (which you can find here http://www.5lovelanguages.com/) I was not surprised by the outcome. There were other categories that definitely made sense to me, but I knew physical touch would be the main one. It’s not that you can’t operate in more than one area. In fact the better rounded you are the closer the gaps between categories. But, even now, if you think about it there is probably one strikingly obvious answer. My question, though, is this: if you have an obvious answer, whether because you took the test or because one of those categories stands out to you, do you have childhood memories that reinforced your love language? Like my need to touch, then and today, do you have similar experiences? Whether it is receiving gifts, words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, or physical touch, do you have moments that stand out like that?

To take it a step further, do you know your spouse’s love language? Your child’s? What have you done today to speak their language? Have they spoken yours? Language, you know, is a two way street. One needs to speak so another can understand and vice versa.

Let’s go one step farther. Your closest circle of friends. Do you know their language? Have you tried to learn? What makes them tick? I confess, I am no giant in this area. I have a lot to learn about my friends and loved ones. Hopefully, you are farther along than I am. But I’m getting there. And that’s how we’ll build community.

Self-inflicted suffering

“You will continue to suffer if you have an emotional reaction to everything that is said to you. True power is sitting back and observing everything with logic; true power is restraint. If words control you that means everyone else can control you; breathe and allow things to pass.” -Unknown

In today’s world it seems that most people are ready to be offended at the slightest thing. It’s one thing for a child to take to heart the hurtful words thrown his way, and quite another for an adult to get offended because someone else’s view doesn’t match their own.

My previous post talks about hurtful words. This post is about taking away that power. Words can only hurt you if you let them. At some point in your life, and hopefully before you become an adult, you have to realize that words are just words. And even if they hurt, you can control the power they have over you by controlling your own reaction. The only power anyone and any word can have over you is the power you give it.

I know a man who says to himself everyday “I am my own sunshine.” Don’t get me wrong, he loves God. He lives for God. But telling himself this phrase is his way of reminding himself that he does not have to let the shadows of negativity in. He can remain the calmest person in the face of the biggest meltdown. And he has seen some doozies! Regardless of the emotional whirlwind in front of him, he can stand still and let the storm pass. And he doesn’t take it personally. He’s the better for it, too.

Learning this lesson is tough. Especially in today’s world where everyone has the right to be offended and to say anything they want because, hey, free speech. Matthew 24:10 says “And then shall many be offended, and shall betray one another, and shall hate one another.” In the prophetic words of Jesus, we see American society today. The constant haranguing of anyone with a differing opinion, the excessive need to be right, and the constant trampling of other’s rights in order to be the right one, are all leaving an indelible impression on the next generation. Why should your child learn to “let it go” when you clearly can’t? What, exactly, do we think we are teaching our children? Yes, words hurt. But you can choose to say “that person doesn’t know what they are talking about” or “that does not apply to me, no matter what they say”. Will we teach our children to open a dialogue instead of a name-calling session? Will we teach our children, by our own actions, to put aside those words and focus on their own actions and to take responsibility for them? Teach your daughter, that little Suzy saying she’s ugly, is not only untrue, but shows just how little Suzy thinks of herself.

And teach your son that just because little Justin said he’s dumb, doesn’t make it so . . . and that punching Justin for saying it is just as wrong as Justin saying it. I believe this is why we have so many adults who throw temper tantrums over words. Come on, y’all. They’re just words. You have full control of your own actions and emotions. Take charge. And stop letting the other person control you.

What lesson are you teaching your child? How can you improve your response to hurtful words? Do have conversations about this very thing with your children? In the family, don’t just be the example. Be an example AND an instructor.

My thoughts on raising children

My niece, recently found out she’s having a boy and asked me if I had any advice in the raising of boys. This is what I told her:

1. Be consistent. If you said “no you can’t have candy right before dinner”, that needs to be the rule ALWAYS. “Let your yes be yes and your no be no” is good in this instance, although for proper context, maybe it should be “a double-minded man is unstable in all his ways.” Kids will test you 25 million times to see if your answer will always be no or yes. It needs to be. That’s how you build their trust.
2. Pick your battles. Some things aren’t worth fighting over. Let’s say that his newest thing is a contest of wills. If you tell him to go sit in the time out chair and he sits right where he is, well, that works too. He is sitting, which is the goal. Just because it’s not in the exact spot you said doesn’t mean the action didn’t happen. Ephesians 6:4
3. Be firm. You can’t worry about hurting his feelings. No one LIKES to be in trouble (Hebrews 12:11). But that’s how we learn. And don’t get drawn into an argument. YOU are the grown up, he’s a child. But, by the same token, don’t be mean. Ecclesiastes 5:6
4. If you are going to spank, use a spoon or paddle. Never your hand. You want him to be afraid of the spoon, not you. Also, discipline should NEVER be done in anger. Calm yourself down before disciplining. (Www.thegospelcoalition.org/…/seven-principles-for-angry-pa…/)
5. Love, LOVE, love! Believe it or not, there will be days you won’t like him. But you love him anyway, just like God loves you.
6. Food is not a reward or a punishment. It’s survival. Nothing more, nothing less. Don’t fall into “I’ll give you a cookie if . . .” Or “clean your plate or else . . .” There are so many other things that hold a higher importance in life. (Philippians 1:10) Don’t get me going on the psychological damage that can be caused by rewarding or withholding food.
7. Demand obedience when he’s young and it’ll be easier for him when he’s older. Ephesians 6:1-3
8. Give him chores. Appropriate ones at appropriate ages. You can find lists on Google. Chores will keep him realistic. Ecclesiastes 3:22
9. Create in him an attitude of gratitude. It makes a happier kid. And start that early. Like, as soon as he can talk. Every night before bed, when you say prayers with him, list three things you are thankful for. Encourage him to think of some as he grows. A house, food, lights . . . these are all blessings. Too many people go without any of them. And then we in America have soooooooooo much more. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, Hebrews 12:28. (Also:www.verticallivingministries.com/…/10-benefits-of-giving-t…/)
10. Dedicate him to God. Give him back, in a way, to the One who gave Him to you. It is not a baptism. It is merely a symbol of offering your child to God in the hopes that they will in turn trust in God and be trained by Him. 1 Samuel 1:11.

That’s my two cents. What is yours?