Bowls of Steel

Some of the most moving and teachable moments come when you don’t expect them. In a way, it’s almost like a sneeze. It comes out of nowhere, but it wells up inside you and then demands to be released. Often times, it can be awkward (and sometimes painful) but you feel relieved for having gotten through it and releasing the impact of that moment.

I had such an experience today as I sat down to read “A Simple Christmas” by Mike Huckabee. As most of you know, I had the opportunity to meet him (again!) at his book signing in Indianapolis. This isn’t his first book, but it’s the first book of his that I have read (thus far). While waiting for his arrival, I eagerly began reading it. Some of his stories are little humorous while others are more serious. Today, I read one of those more somber stories and the impact of it kind of snuck up on me (but gave me much to ponder and reflect on).

Mike Huckabee really knows how to tell a story, and the story I just read had to do with his Uncle Garvin. He shared about the good times he and his sister had with him and how they always looked forward to his visits. Uncle Garvin was a bachelor, and fairly well off (and always dressed in a suit). He described him as having to answer to no one, and being very independent.

He said all of that changed when Uncle Garvin found out that he had cancer. In those days, it was pretty much a death sentence (and such was the case for him). Uncle Garvin ended up living with the Huckabees for the last few months of his life. Mike said it was such a difficult time. Being twelve years old, it was a hard adjustment to have to give up your room and help take care of a person who is having his life stolen from him before your very eyes. He said, “In so many ways, I became a man that year. I was forced to face the realities of death and the uncertainties of life. I saw life in its ugliest form, when a disease robs a person of his strength, his pride, his privacy, and his ability to choose even the simplest things. More than being robbed of my youth, I was endowed with an extra dose of maturity and adulthood the very year I would become a teenager, 1968.”

Though, as often times is the case, it’s the hardship that most shapes your character, deepens your faith, and molds you into a better person. He concluded the chapter with these words: “My sister and I didn’t get much that year for Christmas. We had been prepared to not expect much because all our resources needed to be used to care for Uncle Garvin and there really wasn’t time for much else. But in many ways, it was one of our most meaningful Christmas experiences ever, not because it was a happy one, but because it wasn’t. It was meaningful because through it we learned that the real meaning of Christmas is not giving toys but giving God’s grace in person to someone who is no longer in a position to give back. It was a very simple Christmas, and maybe the best one of all.”

The whole time I was reading that precious story, the tears were just streaming down my face. The way he recounts a story with such depth, detail, and emotion always touches my heart. He truly has a way of connecting with people, and it’s no doubt because of such wonderful people, like Uncle Garvin, that shaped his heart and life. Every experience, whether pleasant or painful, has developed his character and enabled him to “pay it forward” to others. I admire people like Mike Huckabee, because they never waste a moment. They cherish every experience and hide it in their hearts; sharing it at just the right moment with others so that their lives might be touched and blessed.

Oddly enough, my kids were watching an episode of “Arthur” on TV as I was reading that chapter. Amazingly, it happened to be an episode where the characters were dealing with the fact that their beloved school lunch-lady was battling cancer. One of the kids ended up writing to Lance Armstrong for help with coping with their friend’s disease. Lance made an appearance in the episode and offered his own advice and shared his story. I just found it stunning that God would bring two stories about cancer, perseverance, and love to my attention at the same time. I never saw it coming, and it was a tender and heart-wrenching moment for my sensitive heart, but it was such a blessing.

When you ponder and empathize with a person’s story, you open yourself up to sharing a portion of their pain. It changes you. It shapes you. It helps you to examine your own heart and gleam from their stories life lessons that can help you on your own journey. For me, it spoke richly of compassion, love, sacrifice, and faith. It also reminded me of my own “Uncle Garvin” (in my case, my Uncle Brett). Like Mike, I deeply enjoyed the few times a year I got to see my Uncle. He was a bachelor too, and was always doing his own thing. And, like Uncle Garvin, he struggled with the inevitable drawback of independence which is loneliness. Mike Huckabee said that Uncle Garvin would bang on a stainless-steel bowl with a wooden spoon in order to summon them to his room for whatever need he might have had at the moment. He said, “It would be years before I came to realize that he didn’t strike that bowl and have us running to his side simply because he wanted us to refresh his water, fiddle around with the covers on his bed, or rearrange the newspapers in the room. That bowl was a cry for something far more important; it was a call for the presence of another human being in that room so that he wouldn’t spend those awful and painful waking moments with a condition worse than a cancer --loneliness.”

These stories were a reminder to me of just how precious fellowship is and just how thankful I am for the blessed family and friends in my life who bring me so much joy! It also reminds me of just how great the need is to reach out to those that aren’t so blessed, and who are battling loneliness, grief, and illness. Some of them don’t have steel bowls to bang in order to be heard. For many, their cries are silent for whatever reason. They go unheard and unremembered; or we just become deafened to the sounds because we shut them out for any number of reasons. It reminds me of all the people I saw in the nursing home when I used to visit my great-grandmother in the last year or so of her life. They were aching for attention and fellowship; a simple smile, a kind word, a tender touch. My kids would excitedly run down the hallway as they smiled and watched. Some of them desperately begged them to stop because they wanted to talk to them, touch them, and look at them. Such simple things, but so necessary and fundamental! It was heartbreaking to watch them (and my Grandmother) sit there in the nursing home; just WAITING for those occasional opportunities for human contact and interaction. We underestimate just how precious and important it is! I’ll never forget how Grandma looked at me one time and said, “Never end up in a place like this.” Even though she was blessed more than probably most of the people there (because she had a lot of family that cared for her and visited her) it still had to be incredibly depressing and lonely. I can hardly imagine, and it makes me feel all the more blessed (and all the more guilty in the times I indulge in apathetic pity-parties in what I think are my “low” moments).

As we all approach the holidays, I will do more than remember these stories. I will try to make the most of every opportunity I have to answer the call of a banging bowl. Not only does it mean the world to those who are trying to sound the alarm with their wooden spoons, but it has an everlasting impact on oneself (just as Mike Huckabee shared). You never know if it’s going to be your last moment (or theirs). That’s why it’s important to make every moment count and to have the greatest impact possible! You never know when it’s going to end. For my family and I, Uncle Brett was taken so suddenly and tragically (by accident). For Mike Huckabee, it was gradual and they had to watch the process of death unfold before them each and every day. I don’t know which is more painfully difficult. I don’t think there is any way to compare because each situation is a unique horror all its own. Though, we all stand to gain the same opportunities, which are to grow in faith and maturity and to learn to appreciate and love both friends and strangers even more (which C.S. Lewis talks about in “A Grief Observed”. I HIGHLY recommend reading it!!).

Pain is a raw thing. Like anything that’s raw, it can be a hot and time consuming process to go through the heat and the flames that sear our hearts. But, as one of our pastors always says: “Feel the heat; face the fire; find the gold.” As we feel the heat and the pressure of each trying situation, we are obligated to face them. If we boldly confront the pain and embrace the gold we are meant to find in it, we will be all the richer for it. The heat isn’t a pleasant thing, but through it, we are refined and “steamed to perfection” and it “brings out the flavor” of our character into a better and more savory taste. We have more to offer the world after going through such times of testing, and it’s in that way that those times of pain can be a gift. Though, it’s up to us to make the most of it. It reminds me of a forward someone shared with me about an egg, a carrot, and some coffee grounds. Hot water does different things to each of them. Some are like the egg and they become hardened. Others are like the carrot and they become mushy and fall apart. Still others become like the coffee grounds in which the hot water brings out their flavor and the process ends up producing a beautiful end product. With each object, the effects of the hot water can’t be avoided or undone. The object will forever be changed after coming into contact with the hot water. The only choice we have in the matter is our reaction to the water. So, the question is, which of these three things will we choose to be?

Grace and peace to all of you, my dear friends!! May you all be blessed as you face each day! Every day is a wonderful new day that the Lord has made; one to rejoice and be glad of, regardless of our good or bad circumstances. We have the promise that everything will work out (Romans 8:28). Embrace it and believe it! Cherish every moment and make the most of every opportunity (and may you never look at a steel bowl or wooden spoon the same way again). Above all, allow each experience to shape you in a positive way that will glorify His Name! God bless you all!

Scar Stories

See that scar on my arm? Like all scars, it was caused by a wound, and with that wound came pain. It’s strange how you can receive a wound in a split second, but then spend much longer (sometimes a lifetime) trying to recover from it. Some wounds (like this one) even leave scars; and not just visible ones either. While the sting from the initial impact is gone, the memories remain; and that scar is my daily reminder.

I suppose I could live with this scar a lot better if it didn’t have a story behind it (yet, what scar doesn’t?). This scar resulted from a common wound I often get in the kitchen; more precisely, from the oven. I love to cook, and despite the precautions I take, I often end up getting injured (usually, it’s a burn). Even with oven mitts and hot pads, some area of exposed or inadequately protected piece of skin ends up getting burned! Normally, I laugh it off as another one of my clumsy mishaps. It’s happened lots of times before. However, this burn was different. When I received this one, I was pretty angry. Why? Well, it was because I really shouldn’t have been baking in the first place. If it weren’t for the “event” that I was going to (in which I was supposed to bring what I had just baked) I wouldn’t have gotten burned! Moreover, it was an event that I DIDN’T want to attend, and WOULDN’T have ordinarily attended if it weren’t for the circumstances (which I won’t get into) that got me involved with the “event” in the first place.

I took care of the burn as best I could. I put anti-biotic ointment and a band-aid on it and hoped that it would heal as well as the rest of my burns that I had gotten over the years (can’t even see remnants from those anymore). Yet, I remember someone had told me when they had seen it that it would leave a scar. I was hoping and praying that that wouldn’t be the case. Of all the burns and injuries I have ever gotten, why would THIS ONE have to be the one that left a scar??

Needless to say, the burn didn’t heal as well as I had hoped. This is what led me to scout out some Mederma at Wal-Mart a few days ago. As I was reading the package, it said that you had to apply it 2-3 times a day over a span of a few months! *GROAN* All that for a wound that took less than a second to obtain?!! Argh! Though, I guess that’s always the case isn’t it? I got to thinking about how much pain we all suffer and how we consistently have to deal with it and apply the salve to the wound if we want it to heal. If we just hope it will heal by itself and do nothing to treat it, of course it’s not going to go away and of course it won’t heal properly (or at all). If you want to heal from anything, you’ve got to do whatever it takes to heal.

With this in mind, I thought that I would give it a shot. I hate this scar with a passion because of all it symbolizes to me. It’s obvious and ugly, and it reminds me of all the emotional wounds of that “event” that hurt much worse than that stupid little burn ever did! So, if I had to make myself remember to be that diligent in putting the cream on in order to get rid of that horrible mark, I would have to do it (either that or cover it up with a tatto LOL. Yeah, not likely!). ;)

With my mind made up, I decided I would spend the ten plus bucks on a cream (and hope for the best). That is, until I felt a strange conviction from God. I started to get mad. “GOD, I DON’T WANT THIS SCAR!! I HATE IT!!!” God says to me, “I didn’t want mine either.” Dang it! Why does He have to say that?! That just makes me think of the pain He chose to endure by sending His Son to die on the cross and receive those scars in His hands for ME! THOSE were supposed to be MY SCARS! It also reminds me of how Jesus prayed in the garden before His arrest. He didn’t want His scars either, but as always, He had His Father’s will in mind and not His own. So, He took the cup that was given to Him (Luke 22:42). Ok, God, I understand what you’re telling me. Fine! I won’t buy the stuff!

However, it still didn’t make things any easier; and I was trying desperately not to cry for all to see in Wal-Mart! I wondered WHY it had to be this one and WHY He didn’t allow it to fade away from sight and memory. WHY does it have to be visible? Then, I thought of another scar I have. As ugly as it truly is, I never treated it that way because it’s my c-section scar (and no one sees it anyways). At least that scar has LIFE attached to it. From that scar, my children were brought into the world. And so, that scar I bear and its appearance doesn’t bother me much because there is a glimmer of beauty in it.

It was in thinking about my c-section scar (and Jesus’ scars) that I remembered that there is redemption in EVERY scar. I remember hearing Beth Moore say that our scars tell a story, and that’s why some of them are visible (and some of them linger/remain). The scars are there so you can have a little “show and tell” with those who desperately need someone to relate to their pain. Our “scar stories” give others hope for whatever pain they are going through. That is why God allowed me to be wounded and to have this scar; and why He hasn’t allowed it to fade yet - if ever. It’s also why God didn’t want me to heal it with an over-the-counter cream. God isn’t finished with this scar yet. Whether He chooses to let it fade or not, His purpose for allowing me to go through it is the same as His purpose for His own Son’s. The scars have a story to tell (and that‘s why I‘m telling my “scar story” now). Scars are “ugly” to us, but there IS beauty in them when we allow Jesus to redeem them!!

It’s going to take some conscious effort on my part to find the beauty in this one. I will have to apply God’s “redemption cream” to it daily for a good while before that scar will be something that I no longer look at with a heavy heart. It will take that constant application of remembering the few good things that came out of that “event” more than the many bad things. Already, it’s helping as I force myself to look at that scar every day and CHOOSE the good memories and not the bad ones. It’s a reprogramming and conditioning of my brain to focus on the positives (Philippians 4:8). One day, that scar will be nothing but beautiful to me (and God might even let it fade some more by then). Regardless, I’m glad that for even the sake of one, God has allowed me to have this scar. He knows that AT LEAST ONE person reading this desperately needed to know this message. Is it you? Are you the one he wanted me to share this story with? Are you the one He had in mind when He allowed me to bear this mark? What scars do YOU have? What’s YOUR “scar story”?

Greater than any scar that I bear, HE bore the most ugly, and yet beautiful, scars there ever was!! And yes, those were/are for YOU!!! His scars tell a remarkable story of love. It’s like the chorus from the old Ray Boltz song “Scars” (which has been playing in my head for days):

“I saw His scars. No He didn’t try to hide them. He said come and look inside them. They are a window to my heart. And don’t forget I love you, just the way you are. I knew it must be true, I saw His scars.”

I will end this blog with a song that God chose for me the other day. I was walking/jogging and my “shuffle” feature that I was using on my iPod landed on FFH’s “On My Cross.” I’m glad that I resisted the impulse to skip over it to a more “upbeat” song to keep my momentum going, because God wanted me to hear the message in it. It also put on another layer of “redemption cream” LOL. ;) I hope this song/video speaks to you like it spoke to me!

Grace and peace to all of you!! I pray that you too will find the beauty in your own scars and that you’ll allow God to heal them with His “redemption cream.” ;) If it helps, feel free to share your stories in the comments. Let us all heal together as we share our “scar stories“ and speak hope to each other!! Or, if you prefer, send me a message/e-mail. This blog is called “Scar Stories” for a reason - I’m not the only one with a scar to talk about (and we all need to talk about it!). Talking is a key ingredient in the “redemption cream” you know. ;) It goes right along with the active ingredient: Jesus. God bless you all!!

My Birthday Wish

As many of you may know, today is my birthday. And, in case you are wondering, I am 26 years young. ;) (Yes, I know…..I'm "just a kid" to most of you!! Ha ha.)

So, what did "the kid" do for her birthday? Well, I'm not doing much today, but yesterday I had a good day. Church was AWESOME (which I will blog about later) and the rest of the day was great too. Mitch, the kids, my Dad and stepmother, and I all went out to eat. We went to Carlos O'Kelly's where I was subjected to the sombrero and the singing. Then, we did some shopping, followed by a movie with the kids (which I will likely review later if I get the chance).

All that was great, but do you know what would be even greater? My birthday would be so much sweeter if someone else shared my birthday. What I mean is not a regular birthday, but a spiritual birthday. I would be thrilled if I knew that someone had their "re-birthday" today!!! That is my ultimate birthday wish!! Even hearing some awesome stories of how God touched their life would be great!! I want to hear lots of God-stories and see people get saved!! That is what I would love more than anything!!

Therefore, I would like to share a beautiful and amazing God-story with you!! I read this over a week ago and have been waiting for the right moment to share it. It may look long, but it is worth the read!! I couldn't stop once I started!! It's a TRUE STORY that comes from one of my friends on sparkpeople.com (and she gave me permission to share this story). I pray that it blesses you as much as it blessed me; and brings you to a place of rebirth and new life if you don't know it already! Read it!! It's amazing!! Here it is in her own words:

From New Age to New Life

"Wow, oh my god dad, thank you for these tarot cards!" I said, as I bounced and jumped in my seat with excitement! How could he have possibly known just how much I had wanted these cards for my birthday? Honestly, my dad was such a traditionalist. How would he even know of their existence? (Let alone approve?!) I was shocked at the fact that he was actually knowledgeable about this stuff. Hmmm.... little did I know that my dad was 'up with the times'. How cool was that?

For years I had watched Sylvia Brown, and John Edwards (to name a few), encourage and astound others with their supernatural abilities to communicate with spirits and foretell the future. Don't we all want to know what lies ahead? Especially if everything around us looks so bleak. I especially wanted to know my purpose in life, because the life I was living couldn't be all there was! I was completely obsessed with what they believed and I dreamed of being just like them. And I myself had gone to several psychics over the years, fascinated by their endeavors to foretell my future. Of which many, were very accurate which only drew me further into the occult (although at the time, I didn't realize it was the occult). I was spiritually hungry for the spirit realm. Nothing excited me more than the unknown. From the time that I was a little girl, there was something about the spirit world that captivated me. I was raised and taught that God existed. I knew about Him. I knew about Jesus, but I didn't really know them. And I wasn't certain if God really was real. Was He a person, force, Spirit or just the universe?

Anyway, it had been about 5 years, give or take since my mom had passed away with breast cancer. My heart was broken and I yearned for her arms to wrap around my ever diminishing body. My sorrow, frustration and pain led me to a struggle with bulimia and anorexia. I longed for her laughter to permeate my home. But life had been excruciatingly unfair. "How could God, (if He actually existed), be so cruel as to take away my mother?" I thought. For years I had tried to find Him, but nothing. I tried Buddha. With eyes, he couldn't see. With ears, he couldn't hear me. With a mouth, he couldn't speak to me. He was a statue. Nothing more. A mere statue made with human hands. A carved image. Where was the logic in worshipping a statue?

I tried to reach my "higher self." What a joke that was. And very difficult I might add. Even if I did reach my higher self, who would take care of me? And why would I even want to be my own god? How much comfort is there in trusting in myself? (Not much!)

I tried religion. I went back to the foundation of what I was taught. It was boring, stuffy, repetitious and too conservative for my charismatic personality. It wasn't real to me. If God was real, how come I couldn't find Him in church? I still didn't know if God existed. But, I was convinced that I would find a way to my mother, either through these cards or ......through becoming a medium myself. I believed in my heart that she was just a trance away. Besides, how much harm could there be in reading cards and speaking to the deceased? If I could just tap into the spirit realm, then I knew that I would finally get some closure. I had questions, and believed if I could reach her from the other side, she could enlighten me.

I not only battled a food disorder, but insomnia--probably from the bi-polar disorder, had adopted me as its very own victim too. Endless nights of reasoning and analyzing, wishing and hoping that somehow, some way mom would know just how much I loved her and that I never knew how terminal her cancer was. Oh how I would have done things differently had I known or understood! How could I be so naive? Why couldn't I see what was going on? Or perhaps I selfishly blocked out the reality of death's piercing sting only to be saddened by its truth?

Soon, I thought, I would have these answers. "Practice....practice and more practice" I thought.

I was obsessed with seeking mom and the unknown spirit realm. Something in me hungered for a deeper more spiritual and satisfying life. Up until this point in my life, nothing had made any sense. Nothing in my life mattered anymore. The bulimia had robbed me of any possible attempts at enjoying food. Fear had paralyzed me from undertaking anything exciting or new. (Fear of failure, fear of confrontation--people pleaser; perfectionist, fear of winter driving etc). Drugs and alcohol had become my means of escape, peace, comfort and support. Only heaven knew how depressed I was in my marriage and how the kids only added to the sorrow that so deeply wove in and out of my heart.

The more I invested in the cards, the more I found myself wanting more. They consumed my every thought and my every waking moment. Every time I played and practiced, I got better and better and then one day....it happened. I received my own spirit guide. With his help, I received more accurate information that astounded some but brought them back for more. Yet more and more my world became darker and darker as though a black cloud hovered over us.

More years passed with more drinking, drugs, psychic readings and spiritual trances, endless arguments and near divorce with my husband. All the while depression raging within. As much as I wanted to believe that I was living a life of ecstasy; partying and playing with the spirits (and experiencing some terrifying dark phenomena), tapping into the unknown-- I was miserable. Suicide entered into my mind with a vengeance. My life was spiraling out of control and I felt alone, trapped and very much afraid. And when I thought that nothing could get any worse.....it did.

I found out my mother in law was diagnosed with terminal cancer too. "How could this be happening?" I thought. "Why, why God, is this happening? And why are YOU doing this to me? I remember crying out to Him, "Please God, don't take her away from me too, please God....please" I cried with tears streaming down my face clouding and blurring my vision. With my arms hugging my legs and my head resting upon my knees, cradling myself like a baby and sobbing uncontrollably, I desperately asked, "God, if YOU ARE REAL, please God....change my life. I can't handle my life anymore. Show me God, how to have peace physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. Here, here I am... I need You. If You are real, please God help me"

Over the next few weeks, my life became unbearable. I watched as my mother-in-law suffered with the same symptoms my mother had to endure...and again, I was helpless. As she withered away and suffered horrifically, I was having post traumatic stress symptoms. There was nothing I could do....NOTHING. I couldn't and didn't believe in miracles, so the outcome was hopeless. Nothing but panic and anxiety. The only way to escape it in my mind, was through more drugs (marijuana) and alcohol.

Well, it was late December. Our friend came over. We rolled a joint, took a drag and within seconds, perhaps minutes, something strange was going on. I suddenly saw black, my heart began to palpitate, and I felt as though my body was ticking to an unfamiliar rhythm. I had no idea what was taking place, but whatever it was, I didn't appreciate it. I began to pace back and forth, self-talking to try to calm my nerves. My legs were trembling almost as though every nerve was pulsating out of my skin. And my heart felt like it was gonna explode out of my chest. This was far more serious than any anxiety or panic attack. I'll tell you, I sure sobered up fast! As the evening progressed, without any sleep at all, I made vows to God that I would serve Him if He didn't let me die. I vowed to quit the drugs and alcohol and to try living a better life. All I knew is that whatever was going on in my body, I had never experienced before and I couldn't explain why. Nothing was different. It was the same whiskey, and the same marijuana yet my body was having an extreme reaction. What used to be my best friend, now became my worst enemy! For 30 some hours, the symptoms continued without any moments of grace but I was too ashamed to go to the hospital and figured they'd probably label me as nuts anyway.

A week had passed, but my situation and life hadn't. Again in sorrow, I chose to light up a joint. This time, promising myself that nothing would happen since I wasn't mixing alcohol with it this time. With silent expectation of pure bliss, I inhaled its sweet substance when suddenly, my heart began to race irregularly ....AGAIN! I couldn't believe it! My body was violently rejecting a simple joint! But why? Why now? And the fear that came along with it overwhelmed me. What was happening and why? Again, I paced back and forth. Trying to meditate and self-talk myself to a calm and quieted state. HUH.....that didn't work. Nothing was working. Every nerve in my body was ticking uncontrollably. My mind was tormented with thoughts of death and my heart was racing like nascar near victory. I thought I was having a heart attack. An unbelievable 26 hours passed without sleep, comfort or calm. And again, without grace. On the twenty sixth hour (again give or take), I lay on my bed; nervous ticks and all, tears caressing every inch of my body as I was drenched in fear and sorrow, I cried out to God...., AGAIN "God please, IF YOU ARE REAL, save me. Help me get passed this. Please God, I need You. I need peace and I need this to stop."

Immediately in my minds eye, I saw the words, "Show me God how to have peace physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually" flashing boldly. And instantly, at that moment a light entered the room and a Presence of peace, God Himself, the real, true and living God, came upon me. It was absolutely amazing! From the top of my head to the souls of my feet, peace swept over every inch of my body silencing and ceasing every tick, every tremble and all fear was completely and utterly diminished. At that moment, I knew that I knew that I knew that God was in my room and He heard my prayer. I knew that my spirit was encountering the true God and that the reason my body rejected those substances was because He heard me that night in the bathroom and it was the beginning to answered prayer. And it was the beginning of my new relationship, not religion with the true and living God!!!

The next day, all I wanted was a bible. Something in me desired to read the bible. It was the weirdest thing. Never in my life did I ever imagine a desire to read the bible! Yet, I couldn't stop this new hunger inside. God wanted to introduce Himself. He wanted to distinguish Himself from all the other gods. He wanted me to know who He was....He wasn't a statue or a force. He wasn't the universe--no, He created it! He wasn't a church, but He was/is this beautiful God who calmed me and gave me a peace that I had never experienced any other way!

As a read my new bible, God would literally speak to me. I would sit and talk to God in prayer, and ask Him question after question and low and behold, He would lead me to scriptures that would answer those very questions! It was really unbelievable. It wasn't as though I knew the scriptures or even knew where to find them, but somehow I could hear in my spirit, "Leviticus 19:26 & 31 or whatever." I mean really, I didn't even know if there was such a scripture. But out of curiosity and hunger, I would search the bible for that very scripture, and sure enough, it was there!!

It was that very scripture that made my jaw hit the floor. This is what it said and still says, " You shall not eat anything with blood, nor shall you practice divination or soothsaying....give no regard to mediums and familiar spirits; do not seek after them, to be defiled by them; I am the Lord your God!!!!!!!!"

Sometime later, I was woken up at 3:00am, with a voice that said, "Throw away all that you have that is occult. Your crystals, books, tarot cards and cloth."

I tell you, I knew it was God again. I remembered the scripture and what it said. Now He was asking me to throw it all away because He didn't want me to be defiled by it. I got up and I did throw it all away.

I know this was a long story, but a story worth being told! God speaks. God is real. God is distinguished and cares that you know exactly who He is. Just like you and I have a name, so does He.

This God is the God of the bible. And He sent His Son Jesus to die for us. This may not make any sense, but it is truth. God is a God of miracles and love. I have been completely healed and delivered from bi-polar disorder, bulimia and anorexia! And, God restored our marriage!!

I pray that you meet Him and come to know Him. Your life will never be the same again. I know mine hasn't and I have never lived such a beautiful, fulfilling, successful, passionate, and blessed life!!

"Trapped in the Magic Mirror"

Stories are powerful things. Even Jesus knew that the power of a parable could provoke deep thoughts, change hearts, and transform lives. Likewise, the every day stories we hear have a great impact on our thoughts and behaviors. The things that we read, watch, and listen to make an impact, whether positive or negative (and whether we know it or not!).

So, imagine the possibility that “harmless stories” (such as fairy tales), have contributed to a destructive mental process in your mind. This is something that I have been thinking about as I have begun reading the book “Trapped in the Magic Mirror” by Deborah B. Dunn. In the introduction, she says “fairy tales have an uncanny ability to illustrate values and beliefs and to mold how we think.”

With that being said, shouldn’t we be aware of the messages that they are sending? If you really think about it, they aren’t illustrating very positive concepts. The romantic fantasies and pretty painted pictures of “happily ever after” make for a big disappointment when every little princess eventually finds out that “prince charming” isn’t always what he’s “supposed” to be.
All the hyped up romantic stories, movies, music, etc. all encourage these ideal fantasies of what blissful relationships are supposed to be like. We’re all programmed into thinking that we really can have a fairy tale life. Just like the stories and movies, we are convinced that when we find true love, we’ll be swept off our feet and carried off to paradise forever with our perfect mate. We’ll sing, smile, and share a beautiful passionate kiss before the book closes and reads: “and they lived happily ever after.” Though, in all actuality, it should read something like: “and they lived normally ever after…..through the good AND bad times and through times where the prince got yelled at by the princess for forgetting their anniversary, spending too much time with his royal buddies…etc. and through the times the prince nearly went bankrupt after the princess ran up royal credit card debt, gained 50 pounds from bearing royal heirs….etc..” In other words, life has no perfect endings and the media lies to us.

Of course, these perfect stories, movies, etc. don’t make money off of the honest truth of reality. That’s why they alter our perceptions and expectations by appealing to our emotions and creating these ideal feelings. Therefore, people everywhere (particularly females) get sucked into believing all the unrealistic fantasies. Then, suffer intense heartbreak and disillusionment when they finally have to come to grips with reality. After the honeymoon is over, and real life begins, they realize that relationships are more than just “sweep you off your feet” moments and feelings.

Even when confronted with the reality that life is no fairy tale, some of us still cling to the impossible ideas of trouble-free fairy tale marriages and happy endings. I know that I am guilty of this. I was raised on way too much fantasy. I was a fairy tale fanatic!! And, as a result, my poor husband has often had to deal with my impossible dreams of unrealistic romantic fantasies that never end up being like the stories and ideas my mind was programmed with from childhood on up. I’ve always had a big imagination, and so, I often spend too much time in my head thinking/wishing for things that aren’t there. Then, I end up getting disappointed and let down when my dreams don’t become realities.

So, why would I frustrate myself that way? Well, it’s for the simple fact (as the author affirms) that fantasy is more fun that reality. With fantasy, we are in control and the sky’s the limit. In the real world, we are met with endless roadblocks and disappointments. Therefore, we avoid it at all costs by living in our ideal world of what the author calls “romantic thinking.“ She defines it as “thought processes that allow us to see what we want to see instead of what is really true.“ Sure, that may be fun for a while, but where does it get you? The author says: “an obsession with romance becomes a weapon that breaks our hearts, ruins our marriage, and ultimately destroys our spirits.” Boy is that ever true!! Relying on unrealistic and excessively high expectations is always a prescription for a broken heart. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I have suffered in the past because of my “romantic thinking.” I always picked the wrong boyfriends, got horribly disappointed, and then wondered where I went wrong. Even now, I have struggled because marriage is a LOT harder than just a teen romance. Satan works extra hard to cause problems in a marriage, and man has he ever reeked havoc on ours over the years! No fairy tale every told me that communication break-downs are a certainty or that having kids makes things tougher or that the financial strains and the responsibilities of life can complicate things. The list just goes on and on….

Well, now that I know and recognize the truth, that should make forsaking the lies easier right? Wrong!! Putting down that lying magic mirror that shows you what you want to see is a struggle no matter who you are!! EVERYONE has times where they wish that something/someone was different and that things could be the way they see it in their minds. Think about it. You KNOW it’s true!! How many times have any of us thought, “if only he/she would do this….” or “if only this were different….”? I can’t even begin to count the number of times I have thought things like that!! But, as we all know, you can’t change anyone or anything; you can only change yourself.

In order to change, we need to quit picking up that magic mirror. In fact, we need to SMASH IT!! The key to doing that is to unlearn the crap that we have learned and learn the stuff we are supposed to learn! In other words, de-junking our minds and re-programming. The best de-junker and re-programmer is God. Through prayer, surrender, and repentance, God cleans us out. Then, He fills us with the good things of His Word. He renews our minds and retrains our brains to think with the mind of Christ. Through Him, we are taught that the ultimate goal in life is to love him with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength (Mark 12:30). True fulfillment and bliss is found in nothing or no one other than Christ. If you aren’t satisfied with Him, you will be satisfied with nothing else and will always crave more of whatever your heart is fixed upon. You’ll always want what you can’t have and what you think that you’re missing. You’ll always be searching for whatever you think will fill the void.

I am looking forward to reading the rest of this book and sharing its contents with others. If any of this has spoken to you as it has to me thus far, I encourage you to buy your own copy so that you can read along and take it all in. There’s so much wisdom and insight packed in here, and I can’t possibly articulate it all without going on and on or quoting it word for word. So please, consider reading it for yourself so you don’t miss anything that might particularly speak to you!! I pray that your heart will be as blessed as mine is!!

My Friend's Amazing Story!!

In my blog about the final sermon in the "Rethink Jesus" series, the fact that we all have a "Jesus lives" story was mentioned. All of us who have been saved have one...or even several!! So, I would like to share with you a very beautiful and amazing "Jesus lives" story. It comes from a good friend of ours, Rocky Myrtle. He is the husband of my good friend Myra and when I read his testimony in the prayer room at church, I was just like "wow!" So, I asked him if he would permit me to share it with all of you. So, here it is!! I pray it will bless your heart as much as it blessed mine!! It's so captivating!! Once you start reading, you won't be able to stop!! I know it looks long, but trust me, every word is worth reading!! Here is his story.......in his own words:


My name is Rocky Myrtle and I just turned 60. I had lived in Kansas all my life. I moved to Bluffton in December of 2007 with my wife Myra who grew up in Bluffton. This is my testimony of God’s amazing grace in my life.

Christmas Day 2003

I was five years away from retiring from the railroad where I had worked since I was 21 years old. I had four life insurance policies, a good 401 K and money in the bank. I had a nice house with a swimming pool in a nice neighborhood, a new truck, a Goldwing motorcycle and a snowmobile. Everything was paid off. I was 55 at the time. I had worked my whole life to get to this point.

I drove to my daughter’s house and had breakfast and opened presents with her family and children. They had to go to his parent’s house to open presents when we were done, and I found myself sitting back in my living room by eleven o’clock. I had mailed my son’s presents to his family in Wyoming the week before.

This day was different that the last 33 Christmas mornings. I had everything I had hoped for and more in the way of material things. But there was no Christmas tree, no presents, no kids or grandkids. My wife of 33 years had walked out a year ago and we were in the final stage of an ugly divorce.

I remember thinking how easy it would be to just cross the yellow center line on the highway into the path of a semi-truck and end it all when I went back to work on Monday. I hadn’t been to church since I was ten years old, but I looked up and thought, “Help me.”

Three days after Christmas I was invited to church. I said no. There was nothing there for me. I had no desire to go to church or be around those kinds of people. My life was a wreck waiting to happen, but I knew I didn’t need that.

The week wore on and things were getting worse as it went. By Saturday I called and asked if the invitation to church was still good. I was told to meet them in the lobby of the church Sunday morning.

The church was 32 miles away and the whole drive something in me kept saying why are you doing this—turn around—go back home. When I pulled into the church parking lot the feeling was almost screaming these thoughts in my head. I walked into the church and the person was nowhere to be seen. I turned to leave and this lady greeter asked if I was Rocky. I said yes and they said the person was making some copies and would be right back.

When church started people were singing and it went on for 35 minutes. I was in the last row and people in front of me were doing strange things like raising hands and stuff. That voice in my head said these people are crazy. The last time I was at church the minister would preach for awhile and then they would sing a song from the Hymn book and he’d go back to preaching again. This went on until the service was over.

Church finally ended and the hour and a half had seemed like a week. On the way out some people asked if we wanted to go eat pizza, so needing lunch anyway we agreed. There were about a dozen people at the long table from the church. A big man named Jerry was sitting across from me and he asked me what brought me to church today. I didn’t know what to say and said, “They just saw this old stray dog and drug him in.” That was the end of our conversation.

Not wanting to go back home I agreed to rent a video and watch it in the afternoon. By the time the movie was over they said you know they have an evening service and asked if I wanted to attend. That voice in my head was shouting no. I didn’t want to go, but I also didn’t want to go home and have those four walls close in on me either. I agreed to go.

The evening service was different. There were only about 75 people there and it was in the cafeteria part of the church. Six to seven people sat at each round table. I picked the farthest table away—the one closest to the door. If I’d been any closer I’d have been sitting in the parking lot.

The man who asked me what brought me to church at lunch was doing the preaching. The evening wore on and on the same as the morning service—I couldn’t tell you a word from either service that day. That voice was saying why are we here wasting all this time.

Jerry started walking or weaving his way through and around the tables towards the back of the cafeteria. I didn’t think anything about it until he stopped right in front of me. I felt all those eyes on me. Jerry is 6’ 5” and he looked down at me and said, “Son, God has been talking to me all night, and He said you wouldn’t have the courage to come forward to give your life to God if I asked.” I remember thinking two things at that moment. First I was much older that Jerry and he was calling me son, and that voice was saying walk out of here—your only steps from the door. You don’t know how bad I wanted to listen to that voice, but I was more embarrassed to walk out than to just let Jerry go on. I said okay. Jerry took my hand and started in.

My mind was racing at this point and I can’t remember word for word what he had me repeat, but it went something like this. He asked if I believed Jesus died on the cross for our sins and rose on the third day. I said yes. He asked if I was a sinner, and I said I was. He asked if I wanted to repent and be forgiven of my sins, I said yes. The last thing I remember Jerry saying was that I was now a new creature, and welcome to the family. That voice in my head was going nuts. Now there was also this physical pressure in my chest. Whatever this feeling was wanted out of this place, and so did I.

When we left I was mad. I told the person who invited me to church this night was a setup. What happened had been planned out ahead of time. In a calm voice I was told, “Rocky, we watched the video all afternoon and there were no phone calls. We were together the whole day. I had no idea you would go to the evening service. If Jerry said God was talking to him, he wasn’t lying.”

I thought about that the whole drive back home, and they were right. One thing the voice and I agreed with—we weren’t going back. The next week went on and that pressure in my chest didn’t go away. I felt like my body was in this fight with itself on the inside. Something was different, but I had no idea what was wrong. By Wednesday I was thinking about church, but the voice extinguished the thought as quick as a heart beat.
Sunday morning I found myself in the truck driving to church. That voice and pressure was worse than ever. Those same crazy people greeted me as I entered the church shaking hands with me and some wanted to hug me. The voice didn’t want to do any of this—it just wanted to be left alone. One woman told me about a ten-day mission down in Mexico. Two or three people were trying to give me books to read. Last Sunday night I had went home and tried to open the bible I received on my tenth birthday and the zipper was stuck, because it had been so long since it had been opened. The last time I tried to read the bible I got to the flood and that was the end of it. I was bored.

Another week went by and again on Sunday morning, and I found myself on the way to church. That voice and pressure never went away—it only got stronger. The same lady said something about Mexico, but this time she told me I’d need to get a passport to go with them. I knew she was surely nuts.

After church I was told about a group called Alpha that meet on Wednesday nights at 6:30. They were saying I needed to come. It was for new believers and people who didn’t know Jesus yet. The voice was about to say no when they explained a meal was served before the meeting started. I remember thinking they had me going to church on Sunday and now they were pushing a Wednesday night thing on me, but a home cooked meal sure sounded good. I said I’d think about it.

On Wednesday night I found myself eating at a table with 17 strangers. Alpha was watching a video and then talking after the video. This speaker on the video was kind of a cool guy. His name was Nicky Gumble. The meal was good, too.

The next few weeks were much the same. Sundays was church—the Mexico lady seemed to wait for me to hit me up every Sunday. Wednesday nights I had a home cooked meal and listened to the video. I found myself bonding with this Nicky dude in some strange way. An older couple led the group after the video. I, or the voice, was argumentative with them. They would say things about the Trinity and the Virgin Mary. This three in one thing and a virgin having a baby—I was having none of it. On the fifth week they were talking about “the son of David.” Now they had said that phrase before, but this time the voice blurted out, “Who is this son of David? The only David I remember from Sunday school was the little guy who killed the giant.” The lady probably felt like kicking me out of Alpha by this time, but her answer was, “One and the same, Rocky.” Now the other 17 people in the group knew I didn’t have a clue about anything about the bible.

The next Sunday I was told they were going to baptize some people on a Sunday in March and wanted to know if I wanted to attend the six classes to be baptized also. I told them to quit pressuring me about all this church stuff. I’d avoided the Mexico lady all morning, but she cornered me leaving the church. She informed that I’d need my birth certificate for the passport to go with them to Mexico.

The weeks went on and nothing changed. My body was fighting on the inside. The Mexico lady was like a pit bull that wouldn’t let go. Wednesdays I ate good and listened to this cool guy, Nicky.

After Jerry had cornered me that night at the round table, they gave me a little pocket bible of the New Testament. I had thrown it on the dash of my work truck and it had lain there since that night.

As I stated in the beginning, I worked for the railroad. My job was to patrol the tracks from Newton, Kansas to St. John, which was 70 miles of track. I had one of those trucks you see going down the rails. It was a Wednesday and the dispatcher had put me in the siding to let a train get by me before he’d let me go farther. He told me it was going to be about a 30 minute wait in the siding. I picked up that pocket-sized bible off the dash for the first time since that night at the round table. I opened it and started reading where my eyes landed. It was Luke 3:21. I read that one verse and my work truck start shaking on the track. I looked in the rearview mirror for the train. There was no train. I rolled down the window. Just for a few seconds, as I had read that verse, the wind blew so hard it shook the truck. I read the next verse.

It was like God had waited all this time for me to settle down and pick up the bible. The voice had kept telling me I wasn’t saved. Surely if I had been saved that first Sunday night God would have showed me a lighting storm with loud thunder, or heard His voice, or at least let me see a few angles. But all I got was this voice in my head shouting orders and internal fighting going on in my body.

I called the minister right there as I sat on the track waiting on the train and told him what had happened. I told him, like he’d never read the bible himself, how Jesus was baptized in those two verses and the heavens opened up. God was happy and a Holy Sprit came down like a dove. I asked if I could get baptized? He said it was this Sunday and I hadn’t attended one class, but he agreed to baptize me.

When I showed up that Sunday there were 13 teenagers and one 55-year-old man getting baptized. I didn’t know it, but you were expected to give a little talk also. The teenagers had their speeches written down. I quickly scribbled a few things on a 3*5 note card. The minister asked who wanted to go first—I said I’d go last.

Talking in front of people was going to be a nightmare. One by one the teenagers were baptized. They all had their families there, and they would get up and clap and cheer for each teen. The closer it got to my turn the more depressed I got—there was no one there for me. My family had been torn apart from the divorce.

Then there was no one left but me. My feet touched the water. I had a death grip on the 3*5 card. By the time I was waist deep a lot of people were standing and cheering. All this time I had felt so worthless and that voice kept reminding me of it. It had me convinced I was past the point of no return—God didn’t want me.

I looked out over those standing people—the same crazy people I saw that first Sunday. I was overwhelmed. I just stood there for the longest time. It was hard to breath. My eyes clouded over. I saw faces in the crowd. Jerry was smiling. Alpha people clapped. A tear ran down the Mexico lady’s cheek. Everything on my 3*5 card went out the window at that moment. Words starting pouring out--but it wasn’t me—something from inside was doing the talking. The speech ran on about how much easier those 13 teenagers life was going to be getting baptized now instead of waiting until they were 55 years old.

A short time after the baptism I had this dream. I was in a small rowboat. I was rowing as hard as I could, but I wasn’t getting anywhere. There was a chain shacked around my ankle and it was over the side of the rowboat attached to the anchor.
I knew the anchor was dragging on the bottom. I knew if I was to go forward I needed to pull up the anchor. I pulled it up as I have done my whole life. The anchor was covered with the murky mud from the pond.

I had struggled with three major things my whole life and was never able to break free from their hold. I had even tried professional help two different times. I was able to stop the addictions for short periods of time, but after about a three-month period they would creep back into my life again.

I knew these things were my bondage as the anchor held me back in the dream. I looked up the word bondage in my bible. It pointed me to a verse in 2 Timothy 2:26 that read--and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, having been held captive by him to do his will.

Reading that verse was like God was showing me the answer. These anchors were my snares. God was showing me a way to break this cycle.
That voice in my head and that battle in my body was Satan fighting what was now inside me. God was telling me to unlock the devil’s shackle around my ankle. God had given me the key. God did what I never had been able to do on my own—His key unlocked the devil’s shackle and threw it overboard.

From that day my life has changed. Satan had me for 55 years. My amazing grace started as I sat in my living room on that lonely Christmas morning thinking about ending the pain I felt. All it took was two silent words when I looked up and thought, “Help me.”

I went through Alpha four times, twice as a student, once as the leader, and the last time training the next leader. I couldn’t put the bible down from that day. I carried an old paperback bible in the work truck and was able to read it from beginning to end all in a year while waiting on trains. Later that same year I went to Mexico for ten days. It was like God had talked to the Mexico lady just like He had talked to Jerry that first night telling her I was going on the mission trip with them.

Rethink Jesus: Part 6

Sunday was part six of the “Rethink Jesus” series (the final installment). It was an especially good service. Of course, being that it was Easter Sunday, you come to expect that. It might also be because I, and two others, performed a skit. It was really exciting; and the first drama since the Christmas Eve play! Speaking of which, I hope to get the program I need so that I can upload it to You Tube soon (as well as the skit too).

I really enjoyed performing and using my talents for the Lord!! Dave and Joseph (who are two very talented actors - and just wonderful to work with!) played two disciples. I played Mary Magdalene. The scene was more modern day, though. Joseph was sitting on a stump fishing and Dave came in to ask him what was up. Joseph was down because Jesus had “died” and Dave tried to cheer him up to no avail. They then just talked and expressed their sadness as they tried to cope and ponder moving forward in their lives. Then, I came in all happy and chipper (which isn’t much of a stretch from my own self. LOL Larry, the director, said that it was “type casting.” Ha ha!). Anyways, I tried to talk to the guys and they wondered why I was so happy. I told them the good news - that Jesus is alive - and that I couldn’t believe that they hadn’t heard! They doubted and thought I was being blasphemous. So, I told them to go ahead and fish if they wanted to, but I wasn’t going to waste any more of my time. And, as I left, Dave called me “arrogant” and a “loudmouth” (ha ha) and said that the idea that Jesus could be alive was “preposterous.” Joseph got up to leave and told Dave he was going to see the “preposterous.” I just LOVE that part!!

That is where Chad picked up from. He talked about the “preposterous” fact of Jesus being alive. Of course, is it any wonder that it was hard for the disciples to believe? I mean, it’s not every day that someone comes back from the dead (though, they had witnessed it when Jesus raised Lazarus). They knew it was possible; they had witnessed it. Yet, even then, they had doubts!! So, to squelch the doubts, Jesus ate some fish; to show them that he wasn’t a “ghost” or a “spirit” and that it was He. (Luke 24:42-43)

We all need that sometimes don’t we? We want to see Jesus “eat a little fish” so that we can be sure about something. It’s not wrong to need some proof or confirmation sometimes. If Jesus had to eat a little fish for His own disciples to know and believe who was right in front of them, He can and will do that for you.

That brings things to the next point of the sermon where Chad talks about our “Jesus lives” stories. Everyone who has been born again has one; and they are all unique and have the ability to help others get to their own “Jesus lives” experience when we share ours. So, what’s your story? What kind of fish did Jesus have to eat in order for you to experience and believe Him and surrender your heart? Personal testimonies, often times, are the greatest tools in drawing a person to Christ. It’s not endless proving, arguing, debating, and convincing that will win someone over. Been there; done that. Chad is right when he explained that it’s not always about “the Bible says…”. Hammering scripture into a non-believer won’t always win them over; especially if they don’t understand. The thing that most people DO understand, though, is real life experiences - something that they can relate/connect with. It’s about showing them about who Jesus IS; not just “Jesus was” as pertains to how He is described in the Bible. Jesus isn’t supposed to just be stuck in His stories or back in “Bible times.” Jesus is here now - just like He was then. He’s not here walking the Earth in physical form, but He is alive in us. He doesn’t go to the physical temple to teach, but He lives in OUR TEMPLES and works in us and through us. Within our hearts, we carry the presence of God and that is what fuels us to carry out Jesus’ “great commission” to preach the gospel to the world and share our “Jesus lives” stories. We don’t have to be physical eye-witnesses to all that He did when He was on the Earth. We didn’t have to be there at the cross, tomb, or watching the sky as He ascended to heaven. Our witness to who He was, is, and ever will be is what Jesus does for us in our lives every day! The Holy Spirit testifies with us that He is alive and that His word is true because Jesus Christ still works miracles, changes hearts, and transforms lives!! I know, because He changed mine!! He’s with me ALWAYS - just as He PROMISES - and I see Him working in my life, and others lives, every day!!

Chad talked about amazing stories and events that helped shape his “Jesus lives” story. When the audio gets uploaded on the church website, I strongly recommend that you hear it because they are some amazing personal stories!! I doubt that I could retell them as well as he can. They are HIS stories and experiences, after all. Trust me, though, you would REALLY enjoy them!! They are amazing and inspiring!

All I can really tell you is about are my own “Jesus lives” stories as I write these blogs for all to see. I have probably hundreds of stories and examples that I could share about how Jesus lives and that He’s real because of what He’s done for me and others in my life. One of those instances being the recent passing of my great-grandmother. You know, I could place myself in the shoes of those disciples. In fact, I have had a lot of moments where I have been down, depressed, and sad. Then, I remember the “Mary attitude” of “HE’S ALIVE”. Therefore, life isn’t misery and hope isn’t dead! The fact that HE’S ALIVE means that SHE’S ALIVE TOO!! Because He lives, WE LIVE!!!

Now THAT truly is some good news that everyone needs to hear!! It’s good news that I am reminded of in the moments where I feel like I am not strong enough to endure - whether it’s this, or anything else that comes in my life. But, because HE LIVES, I endure! Because He lives, I have stories to tell!! Because He lives, I have life, joy, and the promise of eternity in heaven (and of seeing my Great-Grandmother and other family and friends again! Well, the ones who knew Christ in their earthly lives anyways). All of this sustains me and gives me something to keep living for!! It also helps me to cope with the struggles and rough moments I have. This is why I keep blogging and sharing. Not only does it help others, but it helps myself as well. God uses the very gifts He blessed me with to bless me back!!

I will close for now, but if you are reading this and thinking about your own “Jesus lives” story, please….remember to share it with the world!! Your testament to the fact that “Jesus lives” can and will bless someone - you may never even know the impact you have!! So…….TELL IT!! God bless you all!!

Cherished Christmas Blessings That I Will Always Remember!

These last few days have been busy and eventful - and I have much to share!! I have been so abundantly blessed and I have been eager to blog about it and share my heart with everyone.

This is a Christmas I will never forget. I don’t even know if I can possibly name all the reasons, but I sure will mention several of them. The first one being that Christmas is always special and memorable because of what we are celebrating in the first place: the birth of Christ. Over 2,000 years ago, God sent His Son to redeem the people of the Earth. He sent His son to be born; knowing full well that He would die for our sins. Wow! Can you imagine looking at baby Jesus in the manger; knowing that He is the Savior and that He would one day die for the sins of the very people that He created!! What a Savior! What a wonderful God! It’s a truth so real and awesome that it’s sometimes hard to really comprehend and take in!! Thank you Jesus!! Happy Birthday!! I pray that you have received many Birthday presents this year and always - the gift of peoples’ surrendered hearts, giving to others in your Name, and telling others the truth of Your story!

The miracle of Christmas is what gives way to more miracles. God’s gracious gift and the celebration of the life of Christ enables us to have the joy and love in our hearts to love and give to others. That’s the spirit of the season. And, it truly is more blessed to give than to receive. I get far more joy watching my children, friends, and family, unwrap what we give to them than I do unwrapping my own gifts. It’s a beautiful thing to witness when you realize that something you gave to someone touched their heart, fulfilled a need, and made them smile. It’s priceless!

Some such moments came when my kids opened their gifts. I was happy to see how joyful and thankful they were when they opened their new little Bibles and Christian DVDs that we got them. In fact, they are watching their “Gospel Bible Songs” video right now! It always pleases me to see how these positive media choices influence their character and behavior. Sometimes, I hear them repeating things that they see and hear from the videos. It’s especially touching to hear them say “God made you special and He loves you very much” (as a result of Veggie Tales) or hear them make up their own prayers at dinner time as a result of watching children pray in the Boz the Bear videos. And, it’s also nice to hear them repeat from memory Bible stories and Christian books that we read to them. Even as I speak, Gianna is looking at the worn out Bible that is falling apart from so much use (which is why we bought new ones) and saying prayers. It’s just so touching!! You can’t put a price tag or a bow on a gift like that!!

Of course, they got so much more than that. We have LOTS of people in our families, and they are always showered with toys and clothing and things. We all have so much, and I am so grateful for everything that everyone shares and gives to us and for all the people we have in our lives!! We are SO BLESSED - and not just at Christmas, but all year round!! I only wish everyone could be as blessed as this. I feel badly for those that don’t have as much and it makes me all the more grateful for what I have and makes me want to share and give to others even more.

In addition to giving, I also received a lot of special and meaningful gifts. I received the gift of being with family and friends as well as the blessing of material gifts. I’m not going to list everything, but I will talk about two things that particularly touched my heart. The first item is a beautiful heart necklace with diamonds and rubies. Mitch surprised me with it. We had already got each other things months ago as early presents and so we weren’t going to get anything else. However, Mitch wanted to express just how much he loves me with a special surprise that he picked out all on his own and chose especially for me as an expression of his heart. It was particularly meaningful to both of us, because we have been through a lot together this year. So, that necklace that he chose for me was a symbolic expression of how he was giving me his heart; which God has truly transformed into something even more beautiful and new this year! And, the fact that it has my birthstones in it too, makes his heart my heart as well. I just see so much meaning in that gift. It’s beyond every girl’s dream of receiving jewelry on Christmas. That necklace meant so much more and says so much!! The meaning and the memories will be forever connected with it! It speaks to me of a heart that was changed, prayers that were answered, and the promise of a lasting love and enduring marriage that was ordained by God. You just can’t put a price on that gift either! It’s untouchable!! The best gifts are the kind that no one can touch or destroy; the things that aren‘t purchased in dollars. That is why God tells us to store up treasures in heaven; the things that moth and rust never destroy…..the things that the enemy can never steal or take away from us. Material things (even that necklace) will get old and tarnish, but the true wealth of it will remain forever!!

Another surprising and meaningful gift that I received was a new winter coat. It was something that I truly needed and had been putting off getting for myself because the kids and Mitch needed one more than I did. Plus, I reasoned that it wouldn’t be worthwhile to get a new coat since I will be continuing to lose more weight. So, I figured I would wait until next year………again. ;) LOL Little did I know that my Dad and Lauri had seen the need and decided to bless me with such a warm and beautiful coat!! I was so happy I cried! It’s just overwhelming and touching when someone sees a need in your life and then blesses you with it!! You just can’t put your thanks into words and it speak volumes of love to you! That’s how I felt as I put it on and let the beauty and warmth wrap around me as I contemplated on the love and generosity behind the gift.

It was that gift of a winter coat that made me think of how God must have been thinking about us when he sent Jesus. He saw our deepest need. He KNEW that we needed Christ!! He gave Him to us because He loved us and wanted to bless us with salvation and eternal life. Even though it meant giving away HIS most precious gift and sacrificing so much to give it to us, He did it because he loves us and because He knew and seen our deepest need - even if we didn’t.

So, that’s my own “Christmas” story! ;) And, speaking of Christmas stories, our Christmas Eve drama (“A Christmas Tale”) went VERY WELL!! I enjoyed performing, and everything progressed nicely!! It’s amazing, because we all overcame a lot of obstacles to be able to do that drama. There were a lot of glitches and changes and a lot of hard work on the part of the cast, director, band, and tech team. I appreciate everyone’s hard work and sacrifice, and am glad that I got to be a part of it!! When I get the DVD, I will be sure to upload it online so that all of you can see!

I know that Christmas has been a hard time for many of you this year. But, I pray that the joy and love could be found in the midst of the turmoil. Regardless of our troubles, there is much to be thankful for. Compared to many around the world, we have it so easy!! I’m just glad that we have a Savior we can count on to ease our burdens and be our comfort and strength!! So, to my two best friends, you know how much I deeply love, care, and cherish you. I am always thinking of you and praying for you!! I’m always here for you!! Hang in there and remember you always have a friend to lean on…….as well as leaning on the “everlasting arms” of the Father!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!! OXOXO

God bless you everyone!! I hope you all had a blessed Christmas and that the New Year will be full of amazing blessings for all of us!! May God direct and guide our paths and keep us safe always!!