I Did Not Want to Like You

I did not want to like you. True that could be taken as a horrible statement, but it’s the honest truth.  I did not want to open my heart to you. I did not want to let myself grow any sort of attachment to you. There is absolutely zero that you did to cause these feelings. My feelings are not because of you, but because of those that came before you. 

One of the more challenging things that I am learning to deal with as I  live this close to my father in-law’s ministry, to his (now our) home church, is the attachment to his staff. Oh, over the last eight years I have learned the many similarities between "corporate America” and “church business”. I have also seen and felt the many differences. 

I feel almost uneducated when I say, “I did not realize people would see their position in a church as ‘a job’. Something they would leave to pursue advancements, something they would leave because it wasn’t working out.” Why I thought people would stay in their positions as an Associate Pastor or Director of a Christian Education or a Social Media Coordinator at one single church for their entire career is beyond me. 

I think this level of stability is what I wished for like a child wishes that it was their birthday every week, the way we wish for Summer to be here (or in my case for summer to END!). 

I have been so fortunate to have family style connections with the staff at our church - to love unconditionally and to receive that love back, to lean in, get close and be so attached. 

So attached that a few years I sat in agony across the table from my dear friend thinking, “how in the world am I supposed to compact what she has meant to me into a 30 sec blurb for her going-away video?” I am attempting to avoid the overdramatic, but it was crushing. She fell into the friend group I call, “I loved you before we moved here”, those are the people who loved on us, who we were bonded to before we came to live in Northwest Houston almost five years ago. Some of them are there because they loved on Matt as he lost Nici, some are there because they welcomed Shelby before they even met me. I am so blessed with an amazing church family and that’s why when one of my loved ones leaves to pursue amazing callings and new positions that are so deserved it is still so hard. 

It was hard to see my teenager’s face crumble when she learned her youth leader and longtime family friend (again, who we connected with before we were members) was leaving to plant a church. Then, like dominos my dear friend (mentioned above) left for an amazing position in a state district office. More recently, someone who Shelby grew very close to and I just adored left for a great position at the national level doing exactly what God called her to do, but man did it hurt. I feel almost selfish now sitting her (in tears) worried about my feelings and how much it hurt me (and Shelby), but I feel like I need to express those feelings - as crazy as they may sound. 

I did not want to like you because I made a vow to myself that I would not get attached to any more staff at my father-in-law’s church. 

Let me clarify - any more NEW staff. I am stuck with the love that I have for the ones that were there before. I have even turned to my closest friends and said, “If you say the word ‘call’ or ‘move’ I will most definitely die!” Yep, dramatic I think is one of my gifts. 

Also, feel like I need to say that I have heard countless times that while my father-in-law is human and might have “some moods” as Morgan would say, he has been called “the best pastor I have worked for” by multiple staff (current and former). So it’s not JAGdad running off his staff. 

After our last dear friend left our church I said, “I will not get attached to anyone, again. I will be polite, kind and smile, but I don’t want to know them. I don’t want to hear their story, I don’t want to let myself love them.” 

So a few Sundays ago after you spoke to Matt and I, with that smile that is so hard to resist, I turned him and said, “Damn it, I like her. Ugh, I did not want to like her!” Ah, yes, I cussed inside the walls of the church, but softly and just in front of Matt. 

This was not my plan! I resisted the urge to help you move into your new home, I’ve kept my distance, but ugh you pulled me in time and time again with your ability to be so real, so understanding, so dang likable! 

And now I am this crazed woman thinking, “I really want to know more about her. I think we could be friends. I wonder if she and her husband want to come over for dinner?” The me from months past (you know Dana January 2018 version) is so irritated by my eagerness to make friends with you!  

Moral of the story: God’s not going to let me not love those he wants me to love. If He has a plan for me to connect with someone then stand back because He is going to make it happen no matter how much I fight it. 

I feel like God has to remind me that I did not lose Jon, Rhonda or Meredith and though I can’t just walk into their office to distract, I mean chat, them on a weekly basis they are still in our lives - Rhonda and Meredith especially. And though all of the feels flood back when  I run like a fool across the worship center to hug one that showed up unannounced those feeling give me the opportunity to say in person how proud I am of them and how much they are loved! 

Wisp of Fog, Catching a Brief Bit of Sun

I have said so much about this day in the past (link below), but today I fell lead to tell you what is written in the book that he was named after.

You don't know the first things about tomorrow. You're nothing but a wisp of fog, catching a brief bit of sun before disappearing. 

James 4:14 MSG

James Neal Krzywonski
June 15, 1978- February 26, 2009

Life is frail. Life is short. Death is certain.

Those are all factual, especially when you've lost some who spent such a short time on this earth.

Today I challenge you, how much time do you have left?  What does God want your life to look like on your deathbed? What will you have accomplished that matter in light of eternity? How much time do you have to hear what God is saying to you? 

Teach us to number our days correctly Lord, so that we may gain a heart of wisdom. 

Psalm 90:12

Click Here to see Other Posts Written on this Day

Four Questions

As I have said before I do not set resolutions in the New Year and there is a 90% that any personal goals set for me will not be met. I was given a pre-release copy of Jon Acuff’s new book, Finish and had big hopes to improve my percentage, but, well, I never finished Finish. This is my life! 

This year questions came to mind instead of goals. This year I have four questions that I want to answer. Pretty doable, right?

One: Where do I come from? 

Ah, the continuation of my family research that has been sparked again by watching Coco in the beginning of December. I want to know who my ancestors were. What are their stories? What do future generations need to know? How can preserve the legacies from past generations?

Two: What is wrong with me?

Probably not a “mom approved” question to ask myself, but I am not seeing it as a search for the many imperfections of my life. I have, somewhat silently, struggled with some health issues this past year. And,  honestly, transparently, I am avoiding finding the answer for one ailment because I really, really, don’t want to change some habits or some coping in my life. I honestly don’t want the searching for answers to prevent or stop the treatment of my ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder). That subject brings so much fear, seriously, more fear than not determining what is wrong with a part of my body. Yes, I am aware of the stupidity in that statement and I hear your mother voices as you tell me that I really, really need to see someone about this, but I am also painfully aware of my life when my condition is untreated. 

Which leads me to the thought that I REALLY REALLY (I am aware that “really, really” is my go-to phrase for this post) want to be an expert on my condition. ADD effects so much of life. I want to know why and how I can do more to not be dependent on medication to get through what should be simple tasks. 

While we are on the topic of expert knowledge, I want to also be at an expert knowledge level about Alzheimer’s. You know the disease that runs so rampant in my family that it should be called, “He who should not be named”. Sorry, Harry Potter has been a big topic in our house since Matt has been re-reading and I have been reading the series since Thanksgiving. 

I can state the statistics of Alzheimer’s up one side and down the other, but I need to know the facts, I need to know the studies, I need to know what “they” believe I should do. Should I eat kale? Should I run? Should I meditate?  I don’t know what God has planned for my life and I don’t know if Alzheimer’s is part of his plan.  

And that statement leads me straight to question number three. 

Three: Why do I believe in Jesus?

And honestly, what do I believe about God? Do I believe God gives people Alzheimer’s? I want to live with a faith that is really truly faith and not just hope. 

I don’t feel as distant as I did before my healing process started over two years ago, but I am much more disconnected as I have been since. That disconnect has a ripple effect, you can see it in my husband, you can see it in my children and you can see it in my ability to write and create. 

Which brings me to asks, 

Four: How am I using my talents?

One thing I know for sure is my ability to share through the written word is  God-given. It’s a talent that has been here since I was very little. Besides English 101 at the community college in the Fall of ’96, I have not been trained in this skill. Honestly, I probably could use a good course in grammar. 

But where are my talents being used (or wasted)? 

If I had to pick one of those life focusing words for 2018 it would be “purpose”. How is this fulfilling my purpose? How is this helping my purpose? How is this keeping me from my purpose?

Shelby just walked in while I was writing this (in my journal), talked a bit and then said, “Okay, get back to your Jesus work.”

Yep, that’s what I need to do, get back to MY Jesus work. Remember to not neglect the purpose He has given my life, then plans He has for my talents. 

I love questions. I love digging deeper, hypothesizing what could be. Again, grammar. I am not sure if I am even using that word correctly, but, eh, it works for me. 

I am not sure what form this will take, I have no plans for question focused weekly blog entries because seriously my crazy mind would see that as a goal and you wouldn’t hear from me again until 2019. 

As always, I welcome your prayers as I walk through through these questions. And, I guess, I even welcome your motherly (or fatherly) lecturing about my health - bring it! (nicely, of course). 

Hey, Let's Pretend...or maybe not

hey, let’s pretend the devil isn’t real

hey, let’s pretend the devil isn’t showing up

hey, let’s pretend that we aren’t the ones inviting the devil in for a talk

For the past two months the girls have been home for Summer break. I wish I could say we’ve been busy at the pool or working up a good sweat on the trampoline, but honestly they’ve been watching a lot of T.V. and playing video games. I am not about to break into mom guilt here. 

In the middle of their fighting and bickering I have heard so much, “Hey, let’s pretend…” followed by an even sweeter saying like, “Hey let’s pretend I am the mom and this our house”, “Hey, let’s pretend we are going to a ball”. I can always count on hearing Morgan’s pure innocence showing through her tiny voice saying, “Hey, Bekah, let’s pretend…”

I long for that innocence, if I could only change the circumstances in life with, “Hey, let’s pretend…” I tried “Hey, Matt, let’s pretend we have no bills to pay!”. It didn’t work, I still had to pay bills. And believe me I have tried, “Hey, let’s pretend the devil isn’t real” followed by “Hey, let’s pretend the devil isn’t showing up”. How did that turn out, you ask?

Well, a couple of week ago during service my close, really close, friends sang To Love by Kip Fox (see video below) and though I stood strong, in that moment I could have curled up in a ball right there in front of my pew and just cried. 

to love 

to every time we’d ever given up 

to the humble King who came to rescue us

who knows the scars we have 

who finds us in our deepest pain 

and always brings us back

to love 

I didn’t want to attend service that morning. I didn’t want to see people and sure didn’t want to be surrounded by love. Why? 

Because I was in a slow dance with the devil. 

I had spent the two hours prior to service beating myself up in front of the mirror. I called myself “fat”. I called myself “ugly”. I called myself “old”. I screamed “you’re hopeless, you will never get your life together.” I am fully aware of areas where my talents excel and I’m also fully aware of areas where no talent exists what so ever. When the devils shows up the areas where I am talentless are so magnified that it’s hard to see where God has given me talent to work for his glory. I only see a hopeless failure that should give up. 

Hey, so let’s pretend that we aren’t the ones inviting the devil in for a talk!

This video came across my Facebook feed last night in a kind of “You are not listening, so let me tell you through social media. Love God” way. It stung because I did let the devil in, I did create this environment that let him slither his way into my life. Now, you will watch the video above and hear some of the adjective Priscilla is using and you may raise and eyebrow. I have lived a raggedy lifestyle before, I am not there, again, but I am also not living in alignment with God’s word. It’s the small cracks that let the devil in, it’s chasing perfection till you are near exhaustion. That is one big area for me, attempting to live up to the unattainable standard that I have engrained into my head. If I get to that perfect image of myself then I will have been successful, then I can chill out, but until then I will drive myself insane and beat myself up daily for not being there yet. 

You guys. I know I have told you this before, right? I’ve told you about this fight that I live in - grasping a clawing for this perfection. Perfection that seems further away the closer I get to it. Have you ever had one of those dreams where you are running toward something and you’re like “dang, I’ve been running for like a year now and the thing I am running towards still looks miles away.” That  is my “perfect me”…it looks like a little speck and as much as I run towards it it pulls further and further away. As I run towards the perfection and push away truths about myself that God wants me to hold onto, like my husband’s statement to me a few weeks ago. When he said “people genuinely like you” I pushed it aside and thought, “nope, they like that perfect me that I can’t seem to catch. She’s better than the me that I am right now”. 

As I am writing this I went to find scripture to change my thoughts. I am telling you it took me thirty minutes to find my bible. Yes, I still use a real, touch and feel it, bible instead of an app. I finally found it buried under a stack of work papers and bills in my office where I left it about a month ago. I will let that sentence sink in for a moment. This is one of those areas where my life is not the example you want to live by, but the warning you need to see. If your bible is buried, unable to be found, not opened for months than you are most definitely are creating an environment where the devil will flourish. 

And trust me you will see him in your work. You will see him in your interactions with your children. You will see him in your relationship with your husband. An unused bible is a just breading ground for his destructive lies that will consume your life. Trust me. 

Heavenly Father, 

I know, I truly, truly know that you are the way. You are my only hope. You are the only one that I can stand before as a hotness with all my imperfections showing and you see nothing but pure beauty. Pure beauty even when I deserve to be seen with all my warts (I don’t have warts…maybe I should use zits…I have those!). You know the scars I have, but you love me. Lord, help me remember that, remain patient and continue to redirect me. Lord, help me to see that is impossible to live righteously when I place piles of work and bills on top of your word, when I push away your truth for a perfection. I don’t need perfection to be loved by you, but I need you.  Fuel me with the desire to change the way my life looks today. Help to also see that the love I want to show others is not possible until I love myself, at least a little - baby steps, right? I can not pretend this, I have to live in your word. 

In your amazing son’s name I pray! Amen. 

Heavens to Betsy, this Election!

I am not skilled to understand

What God has willed, what God has planned

I only know at His right hand

Stands one who is my Savior 

I clung to these lyrics sung by Aaron Shust as I left experience my first moment of quiet since seeing for myself glimpses of the road our country will face after the elections are over. 

I don’t watch the news, I most of the time scroll past posts regarding the elections on facebook, but last night I felt I needed to watch. I told Matt, “I need to be informed, I need to know who I am voted for.” I watched until 8:05 pm CST, five minutes past the scheduled start of the debate and then I was DONE! I saw everything I needed to see in those five minutes. 

I saw enough to make me so anxious about what our nation will look like in a year. 

Angry and frightened are really the only emotions I can articulate at the moment. In that five minutes I was driven back to the feeling I have had twice before, the “how do I raise children in this world” feeling I had as I sat on my sofa 15 years ago and saw the second tower fall. The same feeling hit me last year when one of our local sherif deputies was gunned down in a neighborhood gas station. How do I raise children in this world? What will tomorrow, next month and the next four years look like for my family. 

I can only say, “I have no idea.” 

I have no idea…I am sure some people do have a good idea of what life will be like, those same people know exactly who they are voting for on November 8th. Me? Can I, seriously, do a write-in? Because I cannot, at all without being eaten alive by massive conviction, vote for anyone in this year’s presidency election. 

I cannot just vote my party and sleep at night, but then I cannot vote on the other side and live with myself. 

Matt always says that if you know the bible and history well enough you have seen these patterns before, this crap that we are sitting in isn’t new. I am not normally a negative nelly, but I feel the end is coming soon. Oh heavens to betsy that was dramatic as all get out. 

Can we just agree that all of this just blows? Both of these people do not deserve 5-minutes of television air time much less four years as the top rank of our nation. Is this really what we have come to? Is Mitt positive that he can’t jump back in at the last minute? 

Living Through My Child and Proud of It!

I do the best I can to keep myself from living vicariously through Shelby. It’s not an easy task and I have done somethings like starting dance at a young age or letting her cheer that could be seen as me living through her, but I let her stop those activities when they no longer brought her joy. 

I say this, but I will tell the entire world that I will continue to relentlessly push my daughter to stay connected in youth group. That sentence brings back images from Sixteen Candles where a teenager is pushed into the dance by his parents and they hold the gym door shut to keep him in. I haven’t gone that far, but don’t let yourself think that I wouldn’t go to those lengths if I needed to. 

Why? 

Why am I so insanely insistent on Shelby being involved in Youth Group?

Because I did not have this. 

Or this

And I never experienced anything like this. 

When I made the decision to accompany 18 teenager’s to the LCMS National Youth Gathering in New Orleans I thought that the memories of my high school years would probably flood my mind. I would have the same thoughts I did as I sat with Shelby’s theater group during the end of year banquet, comparing the 17 year old me to the 17 year old them. 

When you terminate a pregnancy at the age of 14, develop a drug addition by16 and walk the line of prostitution at 17, you don’t have the same high school experience as other children your age. You don’t have strong friendships and you definitely do not have a solid foundation in Jesus. 

I had to bite the inside of my mouth (something I do to prevent myself from lunging into full on tears) as a stood behind three beautiful friends one evening.We had just completed a fantastic Mass Event, one where chills ran through my body as I looked from my floor seats at the 20,000 plus participants in the seats surrounding us. We were able to keep our seats to watch Rend Collective in concert. As I watched these three friends (two girls and one boy) dance with silly, made up, but perfectly in synch moves I was in awe of their friendship - one that has lasted through years, one that we will see bloom even more as they walk through their senior year in high school. 

As my eyes panned through our group I saw my daughter dancing next to the daughter of one of my closest friends and my heart sped up, I could feel the knot in my throat and I just knew that I could ugly cry all over the floor of that arena. 

I didn’t have that. 

When I was 14 - When I was 18 - I didn’t have that. 

The ability to have amazingly healthy, true friendships. Friendships with strong foundations. 

So many times this week I found myself just in awe over these young men and women. 

I was amazed by the strength of their faith. 

I was amazed at their genuine love for each other. 

I was amazed at their willingness to help each other and to help a stranger without hesitation. 

When I said “yes” I would go with these kids to New Orleans, I never imagined in a million years that I would fall so in love with each of them. It is like having children - I love each one of them, but for different reasons. My heart grew tremendously this past week as got to know some of these young people for the first time. And my love just increased for the ones I have gotten the privilege to spend time with before this trip. I just thought I was going so we would have one more adult, to put my dear friend at ease while her child was there and to see David Crowder. 

They look so excited, huh?

I mean, when they announced that Crowder would be there that kind of sealed the deal. These amazing young people had the privilege (which they probably now regret due to sure embarrassment I am sure) to accompany me to the Crowder concert. 

Let me tell you while I am in the “I never imagined” section of this post. I never imagined what seeing David Crowder live right in front of me would do to me. If you are long time or semi-long time reader you know that I have attached a many David Crowder song to posts I’ve written. 

It’s true I cried! I had to explain to Shelby that that bearded man was my One Direction, my Beatles, my Jim Morrison (she had no clue who that was). I owe so much to that man’s music, that man’s lyrics. I know the entire group thought I was insane, but I did not care - I showed them how you worship! At one point they wound up sitting on the floor next to me (I told them to sit because they were being crazy and they sat right down on the floor) just looking up at me as I raised my hands, as I clapped with all my strength and as I sang at the top of my lungs. It was absolutely amazing. 

Back to my topic - Shelby’s involvement in youth group. 

Shelby’s faith is extremely important to me - not that it isn’t to her and I want it to be her faith, not mine-and I will go to the ends of the earth for her to continue what she has right now. I will fight tooth and nail for her to remain in this group, to strengthen these relationships. I will stand in the face of the Enemy when ever possible to keep her in this environment. 

I will push her in that dance and hold the door shut - I will! 

For this girl, hell, for all of them to be able to get what I never had I will do everything in my power and when that’s not enough I will ask God for more power. She is, they are, that important to me. 

A Little Self Promotion can be found by clicking HERE!

Lord, I Need You

I am not about to get on either side of whatever line you or our nation is standing at this morning. 

This morning I am batting what I think most of us are - the force that got us to this place in the beginning - this morning I am battling the devil. The devil’s lies. The lies that say “stay inside, live in fear, fear, fear, fear, fear, fear.” 

Then across my pandora I hear Matt Maher’s voice singing: 

Where sin runs deep Your grace is more

Where grace is found is where You are

And where You are, Lord, I am free

Holiness is Christ in me

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You

Every hour I need You

My one defense, my righteousness

Oh God, how I need You

Oh Heavenly Father, 

I will not project my beliefs onto others this morning by making a public outcry in regards to our nation needing you, but I will say I need you. I need you, Lord, more than anything of this world. I need you. I need your hope. I need your peace. I need your Holy Spirit to fill me with peace, understanding and love in the midst of the violence in my nation, my state, the city I used to call home. 

I know, Lord, that I should probably not challenge you, so forgive my directness, but PLEASE HELP US FIX THIS MESS LORD! Please. 

Please give me the strength, the wisdom and the peace (without fear) to do my part in this world. Please Lord allow my legacy to impact the generations after me in a positive way. 

Please Lord, help us all to realize the devil’s role in this - his promotion of fear for fear is the key to all of this. Help me to release the fear to You, Lord. 

In Your Amazing Son’s Name

Amen

Easter Sunday: the Weary, the Worn and the Weak Sitting Next to You

It’s quiet, the sun has not risen and neither has my family. It’s just me, the dog and the guinea pig, oh and Nicole C Mullins. Yep, It’s Easter Sunday Morning and you can tell in my house because My Redeemer Lives is turned up loud on repeat. 

I know, That I know, that I know, that I know, that I know

He lives

my redeemer lives

Because He lives I can face tomorrow

I can tell you right now that Matt isn’t even up yet, but he is irritated. While he agrees with every line my favorite Easter song, he cannot stand the song, at all. So, I play it more and louder. 

I mean, come on, how can you not belt this out this morning?

The very same God

That spins things in orbit

Runs to the weary, the worn and the weak

And the same gentle hands that hold me when I'm broken

They conquered death to bring me victory

Again, I don’t believe it’s the message that Matt dislikes as much as the vibrato. That or me turning into a Southern Baptist Choir singer over and over and well, over again. I just cannot help myself. This song. This day. 

As I was getting ready this morning, I was thinking what I wanted today to be, what I wanted to make sure I shared with you today. While we are all in our best clothes posing for family pictures which in my house will line my stairwell for years come, what do I want you to see, to learn today. Now, let me just say my goal for life is not to “teach you” something every day, I would go mad living in that pressure. But today an idea was laid on my heart. 

hold on I have to hit replay

And whoooo-ooo showed the moooon where to hide till eveninnnngggg. 

Ahem, an idea, on my heart…

While I would love and adore to say “take this song, embrace it and shout it from the roof tops, ‘MY REDEEMER LIVES!’” I don’t remember, even once, an altar call rush on Easter morning. (now, altar calls are from my upbringing and really aren’t something practiced in the Lutheran denomination) That’s why I think today you need to sit. Today, I want you to take in somethings. I want you to embrace some truths. 

The weary, the worn and the weak from the lyrics above includes the woman sitting on the end of your pew in her gorgeous purple dress with matching shoes and accessories. 

The weary, the worn and the weak includes the pastor that paces the stage in front of you. 

The weary, the worn and the weak is the family who appears to have it all together, who sit almost perfectly three rows back from you. 

As you sit in service this morning, I want you to know that we are all on the same playing field. We are all broken. We all sin. There is no “perfect” in God’s house this morning. The only perfect person of this world is the one we celebrate today, the once who conquered death and brought US ALL victory. 

When I was a child and attended church with Meme on Easter morning (she is the woman in complete purple - even her eyeshadow and lipstick were purple, God love her she loved that Easter assemble - man, I love her) I remember sitting (with all the seniors) and watching Pastor J. Don George and his family. To me that day, and for years to come, there was no weariness, they were not worn and they were not weak, they were absolutely perfect. Now, I cannot say if their goal was to make everyone around them believe in their perfections - I would pray not, but I have also not heard him confess his weakness to the thousands who attend his services each Sunday. (wow, I am not meaning that to be tacky sounding)

What I am trying to get across to you is I don’t think today, is the day to join a church (if you are not already a member) and don’t think today is the day to say the sinners prayer and request to be baptized. Take that pressure of yourself today. Today, I want you to take it all in, but don’t believe the lie that everyone around you isn’t weary, worn and weak just like you. Today is the day we strive to look perfect, but brokenness is lying just beneath the fabric on our Easter best. 

I Wonder, Song for You Saturday

It’s been awhile since I’ve done one of these posts and barely had enough patience to save this for a Saturday. 

As I was mopping floors on Thursday morning this song came on my current favorite pandora station (link below) and left me wishing that I could hit repeat. 

Jesus Christ

You bled Your love, laid down Yourself

And gave me life

In naked shame You hung and You were lifted high

Here I lay in awe and wonder

I am afraid

For no one’s ever sacrificed and loved me this way

So on my face I fall under Your heavy grace

Here I lay in awe and wonder

Those words, if I wasn’t completely tone deaf I would be singing them on the street corners. Can we just take a minute to laugh at the fact that I am so moved by music, but cannot and I mean CANNOT carry a tune to save myself. Be thankful that my husband’s amazing voice drowns mine out on Sunday mornings. 

Anyway, back to these powerful words, the first one to hit me, “in naked shame you hung and you were lifted high.” As Easter quickly approaches those words have such a strong visual, my goal is to live everyday with the thankfulness I feel during lent, so thankful every single day for the love bled for me, for his life he laid down for me. 

Then, “for no one’s ever sacrificed and loved me this way” this hits a core pain and reminds me of something my counselor said to me once, “you may never feel the love you deserve from a human father, your heavenly father will be the one to show you that love and that love with fill in the gaps that you’ve missed from your worldly father.”  I cry, that feeling of sacrifice and pure unconditional love that I’ve only received from my Heavenly Father. 

Random thinking: I really miss Myspace at times like this. Don’t remember how we could place a song on our profile and it would automatically play when you were there? It was the most annoying thing especially when you were trying to sneak on myspace at work, but man, I this would be the song that blare when you came to my profile. 

Again and again I’ve played this song as I’ve sat my desk and worked this week. Many times lifting my hands up to him, many times drawn to tears and every time thanking the Lord for my today. 

Thank you Lord for saving me, thank you for every single day of my life and thank you for loving me through all of it. I am so thankful to feel your heavy grace every single day. 

My favorite Pandora station at this time: http://www.pandora.com/station/2922568543513388101 

The Amazing Thing About Grace

I feel the most amazing thing about grace is that it will always feel like way more than you deserve. At least it does to me. 

I heard before (or so I think) that receiving grace helps you to give grace to others - you are changed, you get the big picture of it all, you understand the feeling of receiving such an undeserved gift. 

Let me tell you, I don’t only want to give grace to others, I want to give it as my friends have given grace to me. I especially want to love others as I have been loved by one dear friend. 

During the many discussions I had with Matt before I told my abortion story, I asked multiple times, “how will this effect my friends who have lost babies?” I have been touched by many women who have lost children, either through miscarriages or shortly after a child’s birth. I heard the stories, witnessed the heartache, seen the longing to just have a healthy baby to hold in their arms. Their stories always lead me to a place of shame - not by their doing, but by my own un-forgiveness of myself. “How could I have done this, when they had to go through that? How was I so ungrateful?” 

As I wrote my story one dear friend came to mind again and again. The always smiling, always cracking jokes couple that I have sat in the pew behind me for the past two years hold some serious heartache. I believe that Becky and I had friendship “love at first site” when we met and my heart broke each time I thought about sharing my story with her. You see, Eighteen years ago my dear friend and her husband buried a little boy, who was to be their middle child, after a stillborn delivery. 

Of all the people I know, I believe that Becky has a right to be angry at me, to be angry at my actions, to have issues with me and so many times I’ve wanted to tell her “I am so sorry for what I did.” Somehow typing that just now lead me to, “I should be apologizing for underestimating the holy spirit that lives in this woman.” Because let me tell you, she is filled with God’s love, filled, overflowing. 

I don’t cry every Sunday morning, but when I do I use an entire box of Kleenexes - kidding, somewhat. 

This past Sunday was out of the ordinary. I was given a heads up before the service began that there would be a topic discussed by my father in-law, but his sermon wasn’t directed at me. The topic was abortion since Sunday was “Life Sunday.” I am very thankful for these warnings and I quickly put on my armor, put up my wall. I even prepared Shelby since she was the only one in the pew next me. Things stung a little, a few tears rolled down my cheek. I knew that there was a scattering of friends sitting in the sanctuary who were thinking about me as the sermon when on, then I felt a tap on my shoulder and a folded offering envelope was passed over the pew to me. 

My heart. My first instinct was to climb over the pew and give Becky a huge hug, but I decided that a firm grip of her hand would probably be better received. After our embrace, her husband, Andy, grabbed my hand as well and I am telling you the flood gates were wide open. 

I don’t think I could ever do justice with words to describe how much their love means to me. How completely overwhelmed I am by their grace. The one couple who have every right to withhold their love have changed my life. I want to love others as they have loved me, I want to love them as they have love me! 

Amazing what grace does. 

Thank you guys for loving me even after knowing my unloveable parts. 

My Story: The Only Boy that Could Ever Reach Me

The Only Boy Could Ever Reach Me was the Son of a Preacher Man. 

If you know the song, then it’s probably stuck in your head. You are very welcome. 

Almost six years ago when I started to communicate with a recent widower through eHarmony, I never imagined that we would actually hit it off. I mean he was a pastor’s son and I was, well, broken. Very, very broken. Most of the year before was a blur of horrible pain numbed by alcohol and self abuse. As Matt replied to questions with the most studious essay length answers I knew for sure that he was out of my league. When he asked if I believed in God I quickly went into my testimony (as any good Assembly of God girl does) or at least the abridged version of my testimony (because my true testimony was still hidden by years of shame). Surprisingly to me (and to much humor now), he stopped me and said “we don’t need to get into all of that, I just needed to know that you believe.” I think in that moment that Matt was thinking the same thing I was, how far can an internet dating site relationship actually go?

On a Thursday night, as I sat in the corner of our local Starbucks (because we lived like five minutes from each other) and watched him search through the crowd for me, I never imagined that we wouldn’t be able to stop talking to each other.  That night our “safe coffee date” led to dinner around the corner at one of his favorite places. We were both taken back by how comfortable it was, how it felt like we’d known each other for years. 

I never imagined that I could open my heart to someone, again. In the years before meeting Matt a hard shell formed around my heart, I went into possible relationships with very little hope of finding the love that would last me forever. But there was something different with Matt. I wasn’t sure if it was the 29 dimensions of compatibility (that eHarmony claims to use) or the long talk I had with God the week before where I gave it all up to Him and said, “Lord, your will be done.” 

There was no hesitation, I felt God in every step we took and looking back now I can see God’s timing. 

First off, I was ready. If I had met Matt at any time before that week I would not have been interested. I mean he really only met two of my requirements, he was un-married and he was a man. He had no tattoos, no facial hair (at the time) and didn’t drive a truck. I am telling you my requirements for a husband were set pretty high. Matt just oozed intelligence and owned (and had read) more books then I could ever imagine one person could. I, on the other hand, learned more from life then from the pages of books owning maybe six at the time we had met (it’s a different story today). And really, Matt was just the quintessential “good guy”. Good guys and I didn’t normally mix - I was a self proclaimed bum magnet from a very early age. I lived to fix the broken. 

Matt was broken, but in a far different way then I had ever experienced. God, being God, had already given me the tools and experiences to prepare me for Matt’s brokenness (or at least the parts of it that were exposed while dating).  Losing one of my very best friends, James, the year before helped me to understand the heart wrenching feelings of grief. We both knew what it felt like when someone tried to help by saying, “Everything will be okay” after our loved one passed. As Matt said to me one day while I sat anxiously waiting for news about how extensive my father’s cancer was, “Everything may not be okay, but you will be okay.” Life after losing someone you love is never okay, but he and I both know that though the pain still exists you survive. Through Matt’s journey he was able to support and help me to understand my father’s cancer treatment. He didn’t bat an eye meeting my father for the first time even though my father was at his sickest. Matt was not taken back at all by frailty we saw in my father that day or how my father’s appearance seemed to have aged twenty years from the pictures he had seen. Matt held me through the tears and rejoiced with positive results of my father’s treatment. 

I never imagined that after five short months of knowing each other he would ask me to marry him. As we drove back from a week in Houston, meeting his parents and spending time with my family at MD Anderson, our conversation was full of “if’s”. If we are together next year, If we come back here together, If we ever… Then Matt said, knowing as well as I did that God had a plan for us, “Let’s get if insurance. You know to insure that all of our ‘if’s’ will come true.” A few weeks later he held out a ring and ask me to marry him while  Johnny Cash’s Would You Lay with Me (in a field of stone) played in the background. The song that was once banned from country music radio for being too suggestive is actually a love song about being together for the long haul…would you lay with me in a field of stone, would you walk a mile through burning sand, would you wipe the blood from my dying hand - it’s a “till death do we part” song. With giggle I’ll say it freaked Shelby out as she also stood in the room, she could not grasp the lyrics at all and still to this day calls it “the death song.” 

Today, the rings that rest on the third finger of my left hand have such a different meaning than they did five years ago. You see, I never really felt the permanence of marriage before joining in union with Matt that perfect fall night on the green grass of a country club. Looking back, I know without a shadow of a doubt that that night God said, “My dear child I am going to prove to you how much I love you and this man is part of that proof.” I’ve never been loved like my husband loves me. I’ve never seen Jesus’ love shine so distinctly through another man. I never in all my life thought I could spill my brokenness, every single piece of it, out on another human and not get one single, “you did what? how could you have?”. I am telling you, everything single time Matt has matched with my broken parts with an “I still love you” and sometimes a “I love you even more.” Never, never have I received such unconditional love from someone (who was not my mother - of course) (because I know she’s reading this saying, “hey, I love you too”). 

All of our days are not perfect and we’ve probably done a few that’s that were not “right," but I want you to know that the one thing we did do is build this relationship on a strong foundation. From day one God has been at the center of our relationship. I am giving every piece of this to Him, to Him be the glory. 

I never imagined I would be here, I never imagined I would get to feel love like what I have today. I never imagined that I would have three beautiful daughters, two added in our five short years together. I’ve never imagined, but God has always known. He knew these plans at my lowest, when I could not see myself living into my twenties, He knew. I am so overwhelming thankful for His grace, for the restoration I’ve received and for the blessing I received five years ago. 

Even When Things are Terrible, He has got it

Know that God is in control. Even when things are terrible, He has got it.

I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I have a very wise husband. And the guy is overly talented at knowing exactly when I need certain reminders. Like above that he sent me today. 

I know the statement above to be true, but man, the struggle is real! 

I am on social media (mainly Facebook) way more than I should be - I’ll admit it. Sometimes I call it “my job”. I read articles, I connect with friends, I connect with other bloggers and writers and, of course, I post what I write. But with all truthfulness, I am on social media way too much. 

Lately I’ve been funky. I mean a serious black cloud of blah has been following me around. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that it’s mid September and I live in Houston - where the weather stinks. Last week we had a little teaser of fall, but this week it’s back up in the nineties. As I person who throughly adores Fall that really makes me funky. I am ready for crunchy leaves and not breaking a sweat walking from the door to my car (not from being out of shape, mind you, but for the humidity). I was even going to write a post about the Un-Fall Funk - it’s a true condition - I have it. 

Today as I was reading the 10 millionth article about the kid with the “clock”  (who is actually from my hometown) and was like “enough is enough.” I am so tired of the world right now! I am tired of what the media does to us by making stories way bigger than they should be (not talking about the clock, just in general). I have found myself in the past month reading a news story, then researching it. I want the “truth” - I want to know the details before I know if I should get up in arms about something. That research just leads to more “Oh My Goodness - What is the World Coming To?” feelings. 

I spent my lunch time today un-following and un-friending people or groups that constantly just talk news because honestly I am done - I don’t want to hear it anymore. I would rather live in the dark, not know what’s happening in the majors cities around me, then live in this funk. 

I received the message above after sharing this tangent with my husband. My initial response, “ugh…I know!” It was not so much of a “don’t preach to me” as it was a defeating sigh. I know He is and I need to trust Him. 

Trust is what I need to do. Trust that He has all of this, that He knows what He is doing and in the end there will be victory over the evil that is in our world right now. 

What I don’t need to do is challenge Him. I find myself saying, “Okay Lord. Just come back and let’s get this over with. Please stop the suffering. Please stop the hate. Please stop the violence. Lord, please save us from this mess that we’ve made. Come Now! SOS! We need you!”

Oh man, how we need you. I need you - my neighbor needs you - the president needs you - the ladies from the View definitely need you (don’t even get me started). 

Wow, as I have typed this I’ve felt a weight lift off of me. I love that feeling, when you let it go and give it to him. It’s not my job to fix our society. It’s not my job to turn everyone into believers. All I am to do is follow Him and love people. 

Speaking of loving people and Facebook. In the midst of all of this yuck, I’ve been blessed. I could never have imagined that someone I have never met would bless me so much, but Kara Tippets and her legacy has done it again. 

A community was formed (there is an official Facebook group for it) of people who are friends of Kara’s. Many of us friends never got the opportunity to meet Kara, but we all still mourn the loss of our dear friend. Yesterday, 3,500 people joined the group and at last count on my prayer journal I was allowed the amazing opportunity to pray for close to 100 of those women. Women who are battling cancer, have lost their spouses, their parents and women who like me were inspired to do great things because of Kara. 

In the process of writing my story there are two key people that the Holy Spirit worked through to give me the courage to share all my ugly with you. One was my dear friend, Emily, just the excitement that she had to learn more about me and my life made it so much easier to get this all started. And secondly was Kara. Every time I got down on myself and listened to people who said my story should remain under the rug I would listen to Kara speak on sharing your story and the power of being vulnerable. 

Yesterday through the power of the thing I dislike so much today (Facebook) I was able to connect and love on women who just needed an outlet to share their feelings, their fears and ask for prayer. It’s been absolutely amazing. It’s a bright spot in a very dark world. I wish their stories were news headlines because they should be heard. We should be rallying around the women who are battling for their lives instead of women who live to make buck off of others’ suffering. I don’t want to know which Kardashian did what, I want to know how I can love women who need love and someone to lean on. 

Out of all the women that I “meet” yesterday, Becky McCoy’s story stood out and made such an impact on my heart. I ask that you watch this video and that you keep Becky and her beautiful children in your prayers. Please pray for Becky on Sunday as she runs a half marathon in the honor of her amazing husband. 

You can also follow her blog: http://ourlifeinfourbags.com/

And if you are interested, here is more information about the Mundane Faithfulness Community on Facebook: http://www.mundanefaithfulness.com/home/2015/9/15/new-place-to-gather

Also, as always, I strongly suggest that you read Kara’s blog. Her friends have done an amazing job re-posting Kara’s writing. I promise that you will be blessed by Kara as well. http://www.mundanefaithfulness.com/

As for me, well I can’t stop Facebook all together, but I do plan to step back some. I should focus my attention on the stack of writing submission opportunities that sit on the desk in front of me. And I most definitely need to focus on the mounds of laundry that never seems to fold itself. 

Please know that I here to pray for you. If there is something weighing on your heart today please allow me to lift it up to Jesus as well. 

And remember He is in control - He’s got this. Love you! 

A Mother's Love and Our Call to Love

My memory went back to the post below the other day as I was putting all of my kids in the car. I feel like with each child I’ve said, “How could I love another child as much as I love her (or them)?” Don’t worry, I am not pregnant! This thought passed through my mind again this morning as Morgan was curled up in my lap and talking to me about life…you know “Mommy’s fingers? Mommy’s iPad? Watch Little Einsteins on Mommy’s ipad?” (oh the tech generation)

Original Post from May 2, 2011 - A Mother's Love

My mom told me the other day the when you have your second child your heart expands. You do not love your first child any less, your heart grows to love your second child just as much. She explained to me that each of my children would be different and I would love each differently – I believe her since her daughters are like night and day.

I just couldn’t imagine loving any person more then I love Shelby. This really hit home when I received this an early mother’s day present from her on Saturday.

Let me translate for you…especially since my picture isn’t great.

Across the top it says “Happy Mother’s Day Secretly.”

Then it says

“My heart would break without you”

“The world would be horrid without you”

“Our family would be lonely and hopeless without you”

“Love Shelby You are the best person for us”

I think that JAG helped with spelling, but the feelings are all from my beautiful daughter. I love her!

This post also brings me to the word Love. Just as my heart grew to love each of my children equally, but in different ways, it reminded my of God’s love for us. Also Shelby’s feelings towards me, reminds me of my feelings toward God - World would be horrid without Him, Our family would be lonely and hopeless without Him, His is the best person for us. 

For the past few days there has been a woman (or maybe multiple people or maybe a man - I’m hearing this second hand) standing on the street corner next to where our community lost Deputy Goforth this past weekend.  The person is holding a sign that says, “Love Your Enemy.” 

Starting with Matthew 5:43 it says

“You have heard that it was said, 'YOU SHALL LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR and hate your enemy.'"But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.…

Now, I am not going to sit here and say that this an easy pill to swallow - no siree! This has to be one of the areas I struggle with the most. Now, I love people who are different from me, I love broken people, and I love people who probably wouldn’t feel comfortable sitting on a pew next to me at church (see video below). But to find love for someone who has hurt you, who has taken from you, or in this case has killed someone you love is VERY difficult. I believe as we stand here in our imperfect flesh that the first step in following God’s command is to pray. We will never agree with what was done last week or to us in our lives, but take a moment to pray for your enemy. Pray for a softened heart, for the ability for the person to repent and receive redemption as we all have through Jesus Christ. 

This story also reminds me so much of Terri Roberts, the mother of Charles Roberts who in 2006 shot 10 Amish girls, killing five and severely wounding five others. (you can find Terri’s story here: http://www.joythroughadversity.com/ ) Every time I go through this story I am amazed at the forgiveness the Amish community gave to Terri (and to Charles), but I also find my self looking from Terri’s view point. I could never imagine being that mother, I could never imagine living to see my child do something so horrible (and really pray I never have to). Terri was one of the first faces that popped into my mind after our local tragedy last week. Unfortunately, in Terri’s case her son took his own life that day. I know that it is not easy to love the mother of the man who shot Deputy Goforth as she defends her son publicly (saying he was with her all night), but do know the pain and anguish that woman is feeling as a mother this week and what her new life will bring. I pray that the Lord will surround her with people to help her through this and provide her with sound advice. I also pray that she turns her fears to the Lord in prayer and receive the comfort that only He can give her. 

Also, in line with this topic of Love that has been placed in my mind, this video came across my Facebook feed this morning: 

I guess the point I am trying to make in all of this rambling and rabbit holes is that we are all God’s children, even our enemies. And as much as we love our children, God loves His’ (I’ve actually heard that His love is multiplied so much we couldn’t even imagine the size of the love). I believe just as we would be doing as parent in this situation, God’s heart is also saddened by the events that took place last week. I think He cries with us and He morns with us. 

Please remember we are all people in need of love. Love Your Enemy.