Confessions of an Inattentive Prayer Warrior

It almost never fails: I’m praying to God, doing my best to focus solely on Him, and before I even realize it’s happened I’m thinking about my grocery list. Or my schedule for the day. Or what I’m going to make for dinner. Or how cute my dog is. I’ve even been distracted from prayer by pretend scenarios running through my mind. One moment I’m requesting an audience with the King of Kings and the next I’m staring out the window lost in a made-up encounter with a complete stranger that will never come to pass in reality. It’s a tiresome trait.

Could you ignore this adorable face??

Outside of habitual sin, nothing has disrupted my prayer life and even my feeling of connection to God more than my inability to focus when I pray. My distractibility level is so high, I have to use earplugs in a silent room. I’ve resorted to pulling the hood of my sweatshirt down over my face to surround myself in darkness in an attempt to keep my mind from wandering. (Closing my eyes simply isn’t enough.) I’ve kept a notepad next to me so I could write down any random “to-do list” items my brain suddenly won’t let go of so I can move on, assured I won’t forget. Yet even with these tactics, I still struggle to maintain a mental connection. Occasionally there are times when I can pull it off. Those times are the sweetest, most intimate moments with my Creator and they leave me full of joy and wonder. However, those moments are not the norm for me. It is far more often that my inability to focus in prayer leaves me feeling frustrated, unheard, and quite frankly, rejected.

Before I go any further, let me assure you that I know that feelings are fickle, and are not to be trusted. I know that there is an enemy of our souls that wants nothing more than for us to believe the lie that we are unable to connect with the God of the universe. I’m keenly aware that condemnation does not come from the Lord, but from the enemy. However, I also know that feelings can be helpful in leading us to the truth about what we are buying into and the root of that belief. I also know that disobedience and unconfessed sin (even sin we’re currently unaware of) can muck up the line of communication between us and God. I am also keenly aware that my God, the One who sent His very own Son to pay the price I should have paid so that He could spend eternity with me should I choose to spend it with Him, is not going to reject me because I can’t get the theme to The A-Team to stop playing on a loop in my head. So why do I still come away with a sense of defeat that is contradictory to all these things I know to be true?

Early on in my time as a mother, it became clear that something was off in my first born child.  Over time my husband and I made countless appointments with doctors, specialists, & therapists and spent lots of money to try to pinpoint what was going wrong. After years of wondering and waiting, he received the diagnosis of ADHD. Part of reaching that diagnosis involved “family counseling” in which my husband, son, & I  would all attend sessions with a specialist in various combinations. During that time, we learned a lot about having a child with ADHD, how to best deal with the issues it raises, and how to adjust our behavior to help our son better navigate through his life. As the specialist would draw our attention to certain things about our son, light bulbs would go off in my head in the form of the thought “Me too!”. As I would point these things out to her, she would give me a knowing smile and a gentle nod of the head. You know the kind. It said “Uh huh…...wink...wink….yes…….are you seeing what I’m seeing?”.

After getting quite a bit of these non-verbal cues (and even a couple verbal ones) I realized I shared this condition with my son. I simply had the advantage of many more years to adjust and find ways to deal with and hide it on my own. This revelation was profound for me. Suddenly lots of things in my life made more sense. Since we’d just dropped thousands of dollars getting to this point with my son, I felt no desire to go through it myself. I just accepted the specialist’s view as accurate and thus have never been officially diagnosed. Going through the whole process alongside my son was good enough for me and as time has passed, that non-official diagnosis has held true.

So here we are, back in present day, and the struggle is real. Most of the time I can handle my days just fine with minimal difficulties arising from this issue. The most frequent exception to that is prayer. Prayer remains the activity in which my attention issues are at their peak. I keep pushing on and trying new tactics with varying degrees of ‘almost working’, but I admit, there are times when I just give up and move on. That is when the sense of defeat kicks in and I have a hard time remembering all the truths I listed earlier. This is just my reality at this time.

If you identify with any of this, then I’m writing this for you. I wish I had a sure-fire trick to fix this problem, but I obviously don’t. Instead, I’m writing this so that you know you are not alone. I’m writing this so you are better prepared to silence the enemy when he whispers the lie through the ear plugs in your ears,  “God doesn’t want to talk to you right now”. I’m writing this to encourage you to keep on trying. Don’t let the difficulties you face keep you from pursuing time alone with your God who wants nothing more than to spend time alone with you. The reward is exceedingly worth the effort to achieve and I can assure you, God will reward your faithful persistence.

Washer Fluid

One thing I like to make sure I have, especially this time of year, is windshield washer fluid. I absolutely hate when I'm driving through a sheen of dried salt and dirt and nothing comes out of the little sprayers when I push the button. Further compounding the problem is that once you push the button, the wipers automatically turn on and effectively spread the crud all over the windshield whenever the fluid is out. Horribly frustrating. It is a matter of great concern.

It's not just an irritant either, it's dangerous! When I turn towards the sun it makes it almost impossible to see out the windshield. Caught on the highway in a heavy snowfall? Just forget it. Pull into the nearest gas station and pray they have washer fluid left on the shelves because it is going to be an exceedingly white-knuckled drive if they don't. I speak from experience.

Oh, but the level of joy I feel when I push the little button and out comes the fluid, on go the wipers, and GLORY!! Crystal clear vision! Suddenly colors are brighter, lines are sharper, and vague shadows turn into people, places, and things.

I experienced this borderline neurotic euphoria just yesterday as I was driving home from dropping the girls off at school, except this time it was accompanied by an unexpectedly deep thought: "This is just like my life." Allow me to elaborate.

My life has always been up and down when it comes to clarity. There are days when I'm looking through a perfectly clear windshield and all is right. Then there are days, moments even, when I can't see what's ahead of me, and that makes me anxious. Everything is blurred and grimy and feels unpleasant. When we're talking about windshields, the cause for the opacity is obvious. When we're talking about our lives, discerning the root of the issue gets considerably more complex.

What God dawned on me yesterday morning was that my life becomes overwhelming and my purpose and path become hazy when I let the struggles of this life create a film of anxiety through which I view everything. Everything is clouded by a desire to know how things will play out and to control the moving pieces so the best possible outcome is achieved. When I'm focused more on the junk right in front of me than I am on the One who holds the power to make all things new, I can't see anything clearly - not even Him. It's only when I stop and take the time to listen to what God is saying that I can let His living water wash over me and give me a new, clear vision. I'd like to say that that I don't have to repeat this process daily, sometimes multiple times a day, but I'd be lying. Just like a filthy windshield in a Midwestern winter, I have to be washed over and over again to be able to achieve the clarity required to keep my path straight. Otherwise I veer off into worry, anxiety, and doubt.

What's covering the windshield of your life right now? Is it the dirt of financial trouble? Is it the road salt of serious illness? Perhaps it's the dried slush of perpetual sin or the bird droppings of random setbacks. I don't know what the particular concretion over your life is right now, but I do know that God is waiting for you with holy solvent in hand. He may not remove you from a difficult situation or fix all your problems, but He will guide you in to a much better place where peace and clarity live. I know because He's done so for me time and time again. His grace never runs out.

There is Always a Choice

This morning I was reading through Proverbs 14. My habit is to take a verse or two that sticks out to me and write a bit about it. Then, when finished, I ask God what He wants me to do with this day; my "marching orders", so to speak. Today He wanted me to post my thoughts on verse 12. Maybe He wanted me to post it for you. :)

Proverbs 14:12 (NLT) There is a path before each person that seems right, but it ends in death.

Every moment of every day we are facing multiple possible paths. Each step we take either brings us closer to the Lord or further from Him. I don't think it's always only just two choices, meaning only two paths to choose from: the right and the wrong. Often there are many paths (decisions) we can make in the moment. If the enemy can't get you to make the blatantly bad choice, he'll try to keep you from making the ultimately good one.

Sometimes there is more than one ultimately good choice, where God will do amazing things either way. The same is true for the bad choices where God's light does not shine. For every moment though, God has promised that He will provide you with the path that leads to Him. He will never leave you without an out. He will never forsake you to the darkness. There is always a way back to Him. There is always a good choice.

Sometimes what we want is so strong that we imagine we see the light of God down paths of darkness and shadows. Sometimes when we take that step, we realize what we've done and immediately regret the decision. Sometimes we know we were only fooling ourselves when we started walking, and the shame of that knowing drives us to go even further into the darkness. Sometimes we are so deceived we still think the light is shining on us until suddenly, one day, it's not, and the truth of our chosen path is revealed.

This is why staying connected to God at all times is so vitally important. Our tendency to be swayed by the enemy and our ability to effectively deceive ourselves puts us in grave danger daily. For before each of us is a path that seems right, but it ends in death.

An Afternoon with Syrian Refugees

Yesterday was a day that will mark me forever.

When volunteering to help out at the Samaritas office earlier on in the week, I learned of two New American (refugee) families who each needed transportation to Children's Hospital in Detroit. Being in between jobs right now I have more time available than usual so I signed up to help. By the time Friday rolled around only one of the families still needed a ride so I received their information and plotted my route. I was a little nervous about being able to communicate since I knew the mother only knew a little English, but I was excited to be able to help.

Upon arriving at their home I was greeted warmly by the father. The mother came to the door, small child in her arms, smiled and said "Jessica? Hospital?". I smiled and confirmed. By this time another young child is standing next to me, beautiful big brown eyes looking up into mine, sweet little smile on her face. I smile at her and introduce myself. She beams and does the same. 4 years old. My heart melts a little.

We head to my van and secure the appropriate car seats. It's now that I realize that the small child in the mother's arms is severely handicapped. Unable to even hold her own head up, tiny legs lying limp and unused, the only seemingly voluntary movement she's able to make is to bring her hand to her mouth to suck on it. I thank God I still have my 5 point harness car seat. I help adjust the seat belt as she is so small I need to tighten it as far as I can get it to go. I readjust her head and push her deep brown curls out of her eyes. 3 years old. My heart breaks a little.

We don't really talk much on the ride to the hospital as it's hard to beat the language barrier when you have to keep your eyes on the road and the mother (I'm going to call her "Gratitude") has to sit in the seat next to her 3 year old (I'm going to call her "Love") so she can keep her head from falling forward. I figure this is what an Uber driver feels like. We arrive at the hospital and I manage to park in the world's tightest parking structure without damaging any vehicles. It's a win.

I've been to this hospital before with one of my own daughters, so I remember that the elevator system is rather confusing. This does nothing to stop me from taking us to the wrong level immediately however, so there goes the illusion that I know what I'm doing! We figure it out with the help of a parking lot attendant however and make it inside the main lobby. I ask Gratitude if she knows where she is going, and she does not, so we head to the information desk. It's here where I start my role as advocate or, more accurately called, clumsy non-interpreter. I give the woman at the desk the family's name, she sends us on our way. We reach the appropriate office and I approach the registration desk. As the man behind the desk starts explaining the paperwork we need to fill out, he offers us a copy of one form in Arabic. One form out of five. "Better than nothing!" I say, then we sit down in the waiting room to try to fill the forms out. Surprisingly, we get it done with little trouble (The whole time I forget that I downloaded the Google Translate app on my phone for this day. I never think to bring it out. Not once.). Shortly thereafter a nurse calls Love's name and, Praise God!, this wonderful nurse starts speaking to Gratitude in Arabic. We establish what is going to be done and that I am going to be here to drive them back home when it is finished. I head back into the waiting room while Gratitude, Love, and the 4 year old I'll call "Light" headed for the MRI machine.

After about an hour and a half the family re-enters the waiting room, surprising as that was half the amount of time I was told it would take. Everything is all set so we head back out to the parking structure designed by a fan of Smart Cars and loaded ourselves back into the van. Light could not be more excited as she was gifted a purple child's tea set by someone at the hospital. She hugs it to her chest, giggling and smiling, chatting constantly. She's munching on graham crackers she also got from the hospital and Gratitude hands me an unopened package and says "Please, eat.". I'm touched she thought of me. We smile at each other as I thank her and take the crackers. My heart smiles a lot.

As we pull out I suddenly hear some Arabic man singing behind me. It's Gratitude's phone. I hear her speaking softly. A prayer. It's brief but beautiful. I have no idea what it said, but I love the sound. Sacred.

Upon arrival at the family's home, Gratitude invites me into their home for coffee. I excitedly accept, thanking God that the appointment took half the time it should have so that I still had time before needing to go pick up my own children from school. Gratitude's husband, who had been out on a driving lesson, was home again (I'll call him Peace), and we all sat in the living room drinking small cups of strong, earthy coffee and getting to know one another as best we could. Gratitude, originally from Jordan, had come here from Syria 2 months prior. As she spoke to me, insisting I eat another of the chocolates from the dish she had placed before me, she translated for Peace who speaks no English and repeatedly wiped and kissed the face of Love as she laid on the couch beside her. Light was busy delightedly serving everyone tea from her new tea set. Gratitude asked me something about breakfast, which I thought to be very random as it was after 1 in the afternoon. She says something to Peace in Arabic and he disappears into the kitchen. Shortly after he reemerges with a plate of chicken shawarma and a bottle of water and I realize she was trying to ask me if I'd like to have lunch. Gratitude smiles and tells me "please, eat!". I obliged her happily. So good. We talked about the food. She was so happy I liked it. Next thing I know she's bringing me a can of Hawaiian punch. It's like she knew how much I love beverages. I drink and eat and we talk. Peace was a auto mechanic in Syria, but he's having trouble finding work here. Light "paints" my nails with  a bubble wand she's brought out to show me. We laugh and pretend to put makeup on each other. Everyone laughs. Children are one of our many common denominators. My heart nearly bursts.

The time comes when I have to leave. I'm overwhelmed by their warmth and hospitality. I feel I have made new friends and I make a note to let Samaritas know I want to help this family out again so we can build this relationship. Gratitude obviously feels it too, as I try to communicate that I hope to see her again soon, she says "you can come here everyday". Peace looks at me and says "thank you", yet again. Light giggles and waves, giggles and waves, then suddenly disappears into the house and comes running back out to hand me yet another can of Hawaiian punch. Gratitude and I both laugh as I thank both her and Light for their generosity. I think on how isolating being a New American must be, despite it being "much better" than the situation Gratitude's family had found themselves in before coming here. My heart aches for them.

The ride to get my kids was full of emotions. From joy to sorrow, smiles to tears. My world had grown again and I was struggling to process it all. Then I hear of what the now leader of my country has done to ban refugees, and I have to fight off despair. What will become of Gratitude, Peace, Love, and Light in this new and more hostile country? I struggle to understand how anyone claiming to believe in God could do such a monstrous thing. I wonder if he's ever sat down with a New American family and genuinely listened with a heart to find what unites us rather than divides us. If he's ever experienced the hospitality of people who want to share with him what little they have because they are fellow human beings, longing for connection, and understanding. I'm guessing the answer is no, as if it were otherwise, he wouldn't dream of signing that order. That's the danger of living in your own bubble. That's what happens when your focus is only on "your own".

We can't let our doors be slammed in the face of fellow human beings who desperately need our help. We can't be those people who turn away and choose indifference. Please, call, write, march, advocate, and volunteer to show this new leader that We The People believe in an America where there is justice and liberty for all, no matter where your country of origin may be. Remember, he works for US. Not the other way around. Make your voice heard and, more importantly, get up and make your presence felt. Help in anyway you can, and we ALL can.

Every choice you make determines the life you live. What will you choose to do now?

Call your legislators, you can even use a script! http://thesixtyfive.org/home
Sign a petition! http://www.unhcr.org/refugeeday/petition/
Volunteer! From office work to teaching ESL, there is something for everyone! www.samaritas.org

Feel It So He Can Heal It

Part of my homework this week for a group I am in at church was to watch a video of the service held two weeks ago on January 1st. (That's right, I wasn't present in church to see it that day. For SHAME!! lol) It is entitled: "No More Faking Fine" and is an interview our Pastor did with the author of the book by that title, Esther Fleece. (I have not read the book yet)

I'll admit, I didn't really think I needed to watch this service. Ever since the holidays came to an end, and thus, my seasonal job, I have been trying to catch up with everything I neglected during those 2 months in which I worked nearly non-stop. I didn't want to take 45 minutes out of my morning to watch a video on what I was sure was a topic I had nailed down already. I mean, I've had people tell me that I tell people too much, for crying out loud! I'm pretty good at sharing my honest feelings when with trusted people (and occasionally complete strangers), but that's not the core of what the talk was about. As I'm sure you've already surmised, I really did need to watch this talk after all. Surprise, surprise...... :o)

What I learned from those 45 minutes was that I am missing the process of truly lamenting: bringing my distresses, sorrows, anguish, and anxieties to God and allowing Him to meet me there in them. Don't get me wrong, I pray and I bring my joys as well as my struggles to God in that time, but it's more like a drive-thru type of situation. I pull up, handover my praises and problems, make my requests, then "thanks and see you later". I often sit and spend time with God when I'm waiting to hear something from Him, but I rarely sit and spend time going in depth about how my tough situations are affecting me with Him. What I am missing is true lamenting; sitting in the pain, disappointment, fear, whatever it is, so as to be able to completely express myself to God. To allow myself to fully feel it so that God can enter in and fully heal it.

It brought to my mind the image of modern credit card readers and their predecessors. I've been just swiping my card and moving on to the next stop in my long list of errands without allowing any time for any actual healing, let alone any time to hear from God at all on those subjects. What I should be doing is taking that card and placing in one of those old card imprinters. You know the kind (well, maybe if you're over 30): plastic tray, carbon paper, plastic slide. You have to allow the card to sit there and apply physical pressure as you slide over the card and push it into the paper hard enough to leave an imprint. The paper becoming a physical representation of what was on the card. Then that imprint can be taken and what is shown on the card allows access to what is "in" the card (i.e. your money). When you swipe the card, the same information is exchanged, but the person receiving the benefit of that information (payment) never gets to "see" all the information that allowed that payment to take place. They just know that it did.

It's quite the same way when we look at the quick "Help me Lord with _______, give me strength to endure. In Jesus' name, amen.",  versus really sitting down and bringing our struggle and ALL that goes with it to God in prayer. Laying down our fear, doubt, questions, anger, etc.., and letting God enter into all of it with us. The former informs God of our situation (He already knows), and then moves on to the next thing. Swipe the card, grab your receipt and head for the exit. The latter invites meaningful relationship with our Creator as we stop hiding (He already knows!) and divulge to Him all that is weighing on our souls. Pushing into Him to leave an imprint of who we are so He can take it away with Him. Allowing us to join in Christ's sufferings and subsequently, His healing. This is what God truly wants from us: deep honesty. Access.

We have to allow ourselves to fully feel it if we want to allow God to fully heal it.

Even knowing this, I still feel reluctant to actually do it. This isn't going to be easy or fun. No one wants to sit in their grief and allow themselves to truly feel it, and I'm no exception. The idea honestly scares me. However, I know this is how the bondage is broken. I've done it before and experienced freedom, though it seems I've forgotten that in recent years.

How can God truly protect our souls if we refuse to give Him full access? Technically, sure, He can force His way in and force His will on us should He choose, but He doesn't. That's not how He rolls. God is not pushy, nor does He force His will on any of us; we must choose to let Him in ourselves. Free will. We have to invite Him in and ask Him to meet us where we are, and willingly give to Him all that we have. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Only then will He take it and make us new again; and He will. 

I highly recommend viewing the service yourself! You can do so by clicking here. 

Embrace and be embraced.

A Prayer for Light in the Darkness

I'm offering up this quick post to any of you Christ followers out there who are feeling like forces are aligning against you as we enter into another 'ministry season'. To be completely frank, you're not imagining it. Dark forces are aligning against you. I've been doing this long enough to know that they always do. However, Jesus says: “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33) 

The following is from my journal entry this morning. Take a moment to pray over yourself and your ministry, whatever that may be (you all have one!), this morning.

Keeping the "joy of the Lord" in the midst of any circumstance; staying in HIs peace as I place my faith in and my eyes on Him; controlling my tongue and mind to keep from constantly grumbling about the situation(s) I find myself in; these are my focus, and my struggle. Especially the past couple of years as it seems that just as we're picking ourselves back up from the most recent hit, we're knocked back down on our asses by something else coming out of left field. It's hard. My anxiety is rising and trying to occupy my every thought. A lot of the time, it wins, if I'm being honest. 

I'm not oblivious to the fact that I've been picking up steam in my work for the Lord lately, and that always brings trouble. I pray, Lord, that you make me like Paul: resilient because of his faith in Christ and relentless in His work for you. Help me, Holy Spirit, to fix my eyes on the Father, regardless of what is going on right before them. It is only by Your power, God, that I can do anything; especially this. Peaceful assurance is not my default. You know this. Cover me and my family in the blood of Jesus and place a hedge of protection around us all. Surround us with Your warring angels; keep the enemy far from us. He has no power besides that which You have given him; give him none against us. May the kingdoms of darkness, the kingdoms of this world, may they fall in total devastation when I and my brothers and sister in Christ approach. May we all be warriors for You, in Christ, fueled by the Holy Spirit. Allow us to bring Your love to every corner of this planet; preaching at all times through our deeds, without the need for words. Keep us on Your path. Illuminate the way so none are lost in the darkness. In Jesus' name I pray. Amen.

"You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world." (1 John 4:4)

Welcome Home

In my previous post I mentioned that I have started volunteering with Samaritas, an agency who, among many other things, helps refugees get resettled here in Michigan. I have longed to help those forced to flee what's left of their homes with nothing more than what they could carry, which is more often than not, their children. I couldn't bear to think of how absolutely terrifying that would be to endure without vowing to help in whatever way that I can, and last week I got to do just that.

One of a myriad of services Samaritas provides is meeting refugee families at the airport, getting them to their new home (or transitional home if theirs is not ready), and providing them with a hot meal. These families have traveled long hours on multiple flights, most after having lived in refugee camps abroad for an average of 3 years. Three. Years. They've been through an exhaustive 13 step process (in some cases, 14) just to be eligible to come to the United States, and are finally seeing their dream of restarting their lives begin to unfold. They still have a long way to go once they arrive, and an extensive list of things they must do within the first 3 months to remain here, but just managing to get here at all is huge step.

Last week I had the privilege to go along with a Samaritas caseworker to meet an Afghan family of 8 at the airport. Our job was to greet them as they exited airport security, help them get their luggage, drive them to their new home (in this case, "home" was a hotel for 2 nights before their permanent home was ready), feed them a hot meal, and get them acquainted with whatever they immediately needed to know before we left them to get their much needed rest. I was full of excitement, anticipation, and honestly, a touch of anxiety as I followed the caseworker to the airport that evening. What would they be like? What would they think of me? How would we communicate? How do I make sure I communicate mutual respect rather than pity? I prayed and prayed all the way there for God to use me how He wanted, and to keep myself from getting in the way.

We ended up waiting around for quite a bit, trying to make sure we hadn't missed their arrival even though we were right on time and so was their flight. When I found out that the family consisted of the mother and father and 6 children ages 2-12 years old, I realized they would most likely be the last ones off the plane. I know I would hang back and let other passengers off first to make it easier for me to get my 4 kids off the plane if it were me. Add two more children to the mix and the fact that this was their 4th flight in roughly 36 hours and I knew they'd be the last ones to disembark. Sure enough, as the Pilot rounded the corner to the last security checkpoint, he was followed closely by a very large family who were visibly exhausted and confused. Finally we had our new neighbors in sight.

The father led his family to us, smile on his face, repeating the words "Thank you. Thank you." The fact that the father was with them and not stuck back in their home country, in the refugee camp, or dead, meant that this family had fared better than most as the majority of refugees arriving in the U.S. are women and children alone. The mother and children were straight up exhausted and the youngest boy was in full on meltdown mode as the father tried to explain to us something about losing his toy bike at one checkpoint. I looked sympathetically at the mother as I have a bit of experience in the toddler tantrum area and, I must say, she handled it better than I used to! This was the first of many moments to come where I was struck with the realization that, deep down where it matters, we are all the same. She may have been covered head to toe in a burka but, when our eyes met, the connection of mother to mother was the same as if I'd seen her in the check out at Trader Joe's.

Suddenly we were greeted by two other men and a young boy who we'd seen waiting in the airport earlier. They embraced the father and exchanged greetings in their native tongue. The caseworker turned to me and said "They have friends here, thank God!". Having just arrived in a new country totally different from their own in so many ways, having these familiar faces to help them navigate all they need to accomplish within the next 90 days would be a enormous blessing. Already they were helping to relay information from the father (who spoke some English) to us. We all headed to baggage claim, except the tantruming 2 year old. He took a little more convincing. Kids. :o)

Once the baggage carousel had rotated for the final time, we realized their luggage had not made the flight. The men and caseworker sprung into action while the mother and children sat down to wait. I tried my best to make it obvious, through warm smiles and glances, that I was willing to try to communicate with them if they were interested. I had downloaded a translating app to my phone just in case, but I could tell they were completely worn out. I couldn't blame them; what a journey they had just made from Afghanistan, to Germany, to Washington D.C., and finally Detroit. I wasn't going to push them any further as I would've appreciated the same if it were me in their shoes.

There were 8 total seats where we were, and two of the sisters had left one empty between them, so I sat down. I wanted the family, and any others who glanced our way in the airport (which was pretty much everyone) to get the sense that they belonged here, that this is their home. As I sat there people watching, noticing just how diverse the population of that baggage claim area was, I was overcome by a sense of peace. I felt that, even though I was really not doing anything, God was doing something. He always is, isn't He? The girl to my right nodded off, the little boy had calmed down, the mother seemed to be fighting off sleep herself, and the young girl to my left was curious about my iPhone. People are people. I would meet each of their tentative glances with a smile, and each time their travel weary faces softened a little more.

After a little while the caseworker told me I could head home since their friends wanted to help drive them from the airport. On one hand I was disappointed not to be able to help further, but on the other I realized that, at this point all they wanted to do was get to the hotel, eat, and rest, and they had all the help they needed. I stood up to go and the young girl who had been sitting to my left subtly glanced at me and met my gaze. I stopped, smiled, and waved goodbye, and she smiled back. I would never have thought that a simple smile from a complete stranger would warm my heart so much as this one did. I'll never forget it.

It is simple, really, to live as Jesus commands us. To love our neighbor as ourselves is second only to loving God himself.  To God, everyone is a neighbor, regardless of how close they live to us. Don't let yourself be tricked into thinking that this is a difficult thing to do. Extending basic human decency to others in need is something we can all do. I challenge everyone to find a way to do it everyday. I promise you that the blessings you pour on others in even the most seemingly small ways will splash back onto you many times over. I played the tiniest of parts in welcoming a new family to our country, but the impact it had on me will last a lifetime. Now I'm hooked.

We Are One

I'm staring at this blank post box and I just don't know what to say.

I'm deeply saddened by the senseless murder on the rise in this country and around the world; all of it. I'm horrified by the path we humans just can't seem to get off of, and I'm fed up with the lack of action to create real, lasting change. Please read the next sentence out loud.

We are one.

To operate under any other statement is to encourage people to focus on our differences rather than our overwhelming similarities. You can feel pride in your own particular culture without feeling the need to place yourself higher than anyone else. You can celebrate your uniqueness and the uniqueness of your neighbor without trying to convince them to fall in line behind you. Believe it or not, you can choose to treat everyone with respect and love even when they are hell-bent on hating you. Jesus did it; so can you.

We are one. I mean all of us. All of us Americans are one. All of us North Americans are one. All of us humans are one. ALL OF US. Make this your mantra. No matter what color your skin is, no matter what religion you subscribe to (or not), no matter where you live, no matter what your job is, no matter how much money you make or where your kids go to school or what candidate you support, WE ARE ONE. Disagree? Shut that voice down in your head and force it to listen to the truth: WE ARE ONE. Until this is our banner, people will always feel justified in taking down someone else.

Maybe you've dealt with violence/hatred/racism all too often. Maybe this is your daily existence. Maybe you fear for the lives of your family and friends day in and day out. Maybe this is your reality. I can't even begin to imagine what that is like and what it does to you as a person. My heart breaks for you and all of us who live in this brutal reality. I want everyone to be able to live without constant fear for their lives and the lives of their loved ones. I want to hear from you. I want to understand as much as possible. I want to help facilitate the change necessary to allow all of us to live in peace and mutual respect for one another. It's why I joined up with Samaritas to help refugees fleeing their war torn countries, and it's why I am writing this today. I don't have all the answers, but I'm eager to participate in the finding and implementation of them.

We are one. What violates one, violates us all. We must stand against all the hate and violence in the world. We must do what we can to bring everyone to the table and shatter the lies we've all been believing about each other and ourselves. The time to act is NOW. It is no longer acceptable (and should have never been) to ignore what is happening all around us just because it isn't directly happening to us. Refuse to let fear control your life and the lives of those around you. We can all do something. Figure out what that something is and do it. If you have children, make sure they know what you're doing so they can learn from your example. If you've been left unscathed, don't believe for one second that just because the horrors of this world have yet to arrive at your doorstep that they won't. We are one.

Taking sides will not work. More violence will not work. Attempting to separate yourself from it all will not work. Refusing to listen to people with different opinions/experiences/cultures/beliefs/struggles than our own will not work. We are one. We must decide, right now, to work together. We must sit eye to eye and hear each other out. We must be determined to change the trajectory of our story as a species because, at this point, being human is awful. Get involved. Be the change you want to see in the world, after all, you live here too. We are one.

A final thought for those who follow Jesus: You are commanded to love everyone. Period. Check yourself. What are you putting out into the world? The love of Christ shining through you? Or are you sending out wave after wave of negativity and fear straight from the mouth of hell? Get right with God and then get on with what He's charged you to do. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, & strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. Who would Jesus hate/ignore/refuse to help? No one. The answer is NO ONE. Now go out there and make a difference in His name. It is the only thing that will matter in the end. There are no sidelines, we're all called out onto the field. Get in the game.

WE ARE ONE

God Sees You.

Wherever you are. Whatever you're doing. God sees you.

He's not lying in wait for you to mess up. He's not scratching out tally marks on your eternal sin sheet. He's not placing bets on whether or not you're going to do that again.

He's so much bigger than that.

With naught but an adoring, all consuming love He looks upon you. Like a mother gazing upon the newborn cradled in her arms; He treasures you. Even as you turn your back on Him.... again.... glancing back over your shoulder just to flash Him a disgusted & disbelieving glare, He adores you. You break His heart over and over again, yet the moment when even just one of your arms hesitantly reaches out to Him, He'll pull you into His embrace without a second thought.

You are His creation. His pride and joy. He watches you not to catch you making mistakes. He watches you to catch you. The moment your heart turns to Him, He's already there. Whether you scream out or simply lift your eyes to Him, He's ready. He's all for you. He's all with you.

God cares not about what you've done or haven't done. He knows you've messed up. (You're only human, after all.) He knows there's no way any one of us could ever make it through this life without getting dirt on our hands. Nothing you do is a surprise to Him.

You can go through your whole life on this planet being angry with Him, ignoring Him, denying Him, even actively protesting Him, and He wouldn't love you any less. He just can't help it. He yearns for you to love Him back, but it's not a prerequisite for His loving you. You can't earn it and you can't lose it. He gives His love to His creation freely by His choice; unencumbered by anyone else's will or desire for it, or against it.

You are always on His mind. You are ever in His heart. You are never too far away.

God sees you.

Photo Credit: Jessica Wheatley 

Running Down a Dream

With the race now only 2 weeks away, training has started to calm down quite a bit. Last week was the longest run we'll do before race day; 12 long miles! After that we start what's called "tapering" by running progressively less and less to allow our muscles to recover and give less chance for injury so close to race day. This morning we ran 7 miles in the wind and rain but next Saturday we're down to 4, then the next Saturday it's only 1 because the next day is the half marathon!! It's hard to believe it's here already, yet it seems like it's been a long time coming. 

With so many generous donations from awesome people and the funds raised from our 2ND Annual Run Like Hale 10K this past July, we are just $165 away from reaching our goal of $5,000 for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. How awesome is that?!? If you haven't donated yet, there is still time! Help us reach our goal before the Freep! If you've already donated, thank you again! We really appreciate your support. 

Financial gifts are always appreciated, but I wanted to take a moment to recognize those that have supported us in another, equally as important way. These are the people that have taken time out of their busy lives to spend the night at our home Friday nights so they could be there to care for our 4 children when we left for our group long runs bright and early Saturday mornings. These are the people that come over the afternoon before the race and stay overnight with our children all during the race day as well. Without them, we could have never been able to train together (which is so very important!), or have been able to train so well, or be able to run in the race at all. My mom, Debbie Kerr; Wayne's mom, Carol Wheatley; my step-mom, Susan Mann; and my sister & brother-in-law, Shawna & Jason Bradley, have all been those people. To them we extend our sincere gratitude for their unending and uplifting support, and their tireless love of our tireless children. Wayne and I thank you from the bottom of our hearts!

Race day is just 2 short weeks away. 14 days until I run in my very first half marathon; how crazy is that! An asthmatic with crappy knees who hated to run is lacing up to go 13.1 miles before the sun comes up with a bunch of other crazy folks. That's what the inspiration of knowing you can make a difference can do. Thank you to all who have helped us on this journey, financially or otherwise. We are so blessed by you all and give you a hearty "GO TEAM!"!

Planning to Wait

I'm a planner. I like to know what I'm doing ahead of time so I can arrange everything about my day accordingly. Running a household of 6 people necessitates it. So you can imagine how stressful it is for me when I don't get a clear signal from the Lord as to what my next steps should be. I spend most of my waking moments trying to figure out what it is I am to do and I go to sleep and dream dreams of frustration and anxiety. Perhaps you can relate?

The other day I had the chance to speak to a very close friend of mine for the first time in awhile. She moved to the other side of the state awhile back and with our busy schedules we don't get to catch up as often as we'd like. As the conversation progressed she asked me how I was adjusting to this new phase in my life (she had read my previous post) and if I had decided on a plan yet. I told her how I was struggling and she says to me: "Well, I hope you're not thinking you have to hurry up and get out there and do something really big right away." ......

It was at that moment, after hearing her verbalize it, that I realized that that was exactly what I was thinking.

I feel a tremendous amount of pressure to be "who God created me to be" and for some reason, in my mind, that is someone BIG. Someone who changes the world somehow for the better. Someone who sets the captives free and cares for the orphans and widows. For some reason I had put these tasks, assigned to all of us from God, on myself on a grand scale. I got it in my mind that, in order to please God, I had to get to the level of Mother Teresa in one area of need or in many, and fast. This idea of needing to do something HUGE and QUICKLY has caused me to accomplish nothing but exhausting myself by creating a state of anxiety fueled by the fear that I'm failing God by not being able to figure this out. My friend's comment hit me square in the face and made me start to see the truth of what God wants me to do. I truly believe God spoke to me through her (wouldn't be the first time!) and told me to STOP. He reminded me that anxiety and fear do not come from Him, nor do confusion or stress. He reminded me that, although He may or may not have "BIG" plans for my life, He will reveal to me what I am to do in small increments, when the time is right. He reminded me that "great" things aren't always "BIG" things, but all things done in line with His will are precious things to Him.

I realized that, no matter how many times I've believed I have eradicated this pattern of thinking in the past, I'd fallen right back into the belief of a "works based" belief system. I had again picked up the burden of believing I had to prove myself to God, essentially saying that Jesus' sacrifice on the cross wasn't enough to cover the things I'd done or failed to do, and I didn't even notice it.

This morning, as I read my devotional, the text struck me. It read: 

"This is my desire for you: that you stay near Me as you walk along your life path." "Although you may feel as if you are going nowhere in this world, your spiritual journey is another matter altogether..." (Jesus Calling by Sarah Young - I highly recommend it!)

I realized, again, that all He requires of me is to stay near to Him. That's it. That's all. If I can do that, He'll let me know exactly what I'm to do and when I am to do it. Simple, yet so easily forgotten. 

What Will Become of Me?

Right now, as I sip coffee and type away on my front porch, I am undisturbed. The usual sounds of little feet trudging down the stairs and little hands opening the front door are absent. If I feel the need, I can go inside and use the bathroom without having to lock anyone out. You see, today is the first day that all four of my children are in school full time. Today is the first time in nine years that I don't have a little one at home (or two) to take care of and drag around town with me. Today is the first day of a new chapter in my life, and I can't help but wondering......

.....what will become of me? Even now I keep thinking that I should speed this up so I might have a chance of finishing this paragraph before she wakes up. Then I have to remind myself that she's already up....and gone! I don't have to worry about fitting what I need to do in the couple of hours available between meals. Hell, I can skip lunch altogether if I want to! The joy! I don't have to stress over whether or not she is going to run out of the yard the moment I turn my back. The relief! I don't even have to answer countless questions over, and over, and over again all .....day.....long. The rapture!

(Yes, I love my kids and I am already missing that little peanut. Is that clear? Let's move on then.)

Now that my schedule is finally my own (between the hours of 7am-5pm anyway), I find myself at a little bit of a loss as to what to do with it. Of course there are the obvious things that must get done like housework, grocery shopping, basic hygiene, etc..., but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about me. My life. My purpose. What I was put here on Earth to do outside of my familial obligations. What is it?

I could do aerobics in here.

I was hoping I'd have that figured out by now, but I don't. If you know me, then you know I'm a planner and not having a legit plan is rather troubling. I have spent the last nine years planning out, mulling over, and executing what I believed to be the best options for my four children. In those years, there were few times where I truly did the same for myself. My time was all but consumed with them, at no fault of their own, and that was OK. I wouldn't change that for anything even if I could. Now that their need for me and my time has changed significantly, I have to completely refocus my time and energy during the day and I'm realizing that that might be a tougher task than I'd originally thought. Perhaps the significant drop in interruptions will help bring around some clarity. Right now, so many ideas and half contemplated possibilities are flying around in my head that I can barely focus on what I'm typing. I feel like a Choose Your Own Adventure book at a seemingly mundane but secretly pivotal point. Where do I go from here? Which heart cry do I give heed to? How do I know which move is the best one?

The one thing I am sure of is that I need to give myself some grace and some time to adjust to this new normal. I need to allow my head to clear and fully embrace this new season. I need to trust that God will reveal what I need, when I need it, and not a moment before. I need to stop trying to see the final outcome, and focus on only what is right in front of me. As of right now, that is everything.

Fighting Cancer, One Aching Muscle at a Time.

As I ran through my neighborhood the other day, dripping in sweat and willing myself not to stop, my thoughts kept returning to those who are too sick to run.......too weak to run.....or would have loved one more day here even if just to watch someone else run. Usually I'm not such a deep thinker in the throes of a 2 mile run in 98% humidity, but lately I have been. What changed from last year, or the year before that? What makes my mind cling to what most would think of as depressing thoughts to push me forward when I'd much rather call it quits? The difference is that this year, I Run With A Purpose.

February of 2012, a severe stomach cramp sent my husband, Wayne, to the ER. Within hours he was undergoing surgery to remove 7" of intestine which had become blocked by an inflamed lymph node. Having four young and sleeping children at home (and the fact that this all took place in the wee hours of the morning), I could not be at the hospital with Wayne. It was the next day when I was able to visit him and hear what the doctors had to say: Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma (NHL). Needless to say, it was shocking.

What followed was a whirlwind of doctor appointments, research, doctor appointments, outpourings of support from everyone around us, doctor appointments, and treatment. That last one is what scared me the most. From what I knew about chemotherapy, it was horrible. I envisioned my husband having to leave our home to keep from contracting an infection while his immune system was compromised (remember the four young children I mentioned earlier?). I worried about my abilities to be able to take on every detail of our lives on my own on top of caring for Wayne if he was able to stay at home. I imagined the difficulty of watching my once healthy and active husband waste away from the very thing trying to save his life. It was a stressful time.

Amazingly, none of the things I was concerned about came to pass, and it was all because of a relatively new drug called Rituxan. This treatment is an infusion of antibodies that aids the body in fighting the cancer rather than killing nearly everything in the body to get at it. The news of this treatment was a game changer. Wayne started right away with the only side effects being a slight allergic reaction (easily treated with Benedryl at each infusion) and weight gain from an additional steroid. Two years later the treatment was complete and Wayne was declared cancer free, and he remains cancer free to this day. It was a miracle!

The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society exists to cure leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin's disease, and myeloma, and improve the quality of life of patients and their families. They raise awareness and funds to discover & develop life-changing and life-SAVING treatments every day. Dealing with NHL firsthand gave us a new appreciation for what they do and we were determined to give back and do our part to help in the fight against blood cancers.

Already being runners ourselves, Team in Training (TNT) was a perfect fit for us. Wayne signed up to run the Detroit Free Press (The Freep) half marathon with TNT in 2012 and had a blast. In 2013, he decided to run the full marathon at the Freep and to also organize his own 10K race in Hale as a fundraiser as well. Doing so enabled him to earn the honor of being the 2nd highest fundraiser for TNT in The Freep for 2013! This year, his Run Like Hale 10K race is in it's 2nd year and Wayne even convinced me to run my first 1/2 Marathon and join Team in Training myself! So that's why you can catch me running around my neighborhood most days, sporting a bright purple TNT running shirt, and contemplating all that brought me to this moment. That's also why I"m asking for your help in getting me to my fundraising goal of $2,500.00 for Team in Training because now, I Run With a Purpose.

On behalf of all people with blood cancers and their families, including my own, could you join us in our fight by donating today? Every bit helps and every bit makes a difference in people's lives. A REAL, tangible, quite possibly life-changing or even life-saving difference. Join me in helping Team in Training by donating today here, and GO TEAM!

A New Year is Upon Me

Note: I wrote this on Tuesday morning (first day of school for my kids) but I just got around to posting it now! That's how I roll...slowly. :-)

All smiles and giggles were the "Big 3" when I sent them off to school this morning. 1st Grade, Kindergarten, and PreK-4.....how did we get to here?!?

As a family headed by a middle school teacher with 3 school aged children, we mark the passage of time more by the beginning and ending of school "years" rather than when a new calendar goes up.  These next 10 months will be my first full school year with only one child left at home to take care of and, as glorious as that sounds to me, I know it will present it's own set of hardships as the days roll on. My youngest can be....how should I put it....a little demanding. :o) Add to that fact that this is our first school year in our new house (further away from school, family (except my grandma - yay!), and sitters) and the challenges ramp up a notch.

However, whatever challenges I may be anticipating could not take the smile from my face this morning. Not just because three of my four children are going back to school and thus ending the all-day whining and fighting festival that some people call "summer" (now those activities are saved for mornings, evenings, and weekends only), but also because I am excited for this new season of my life to begin.

I know that God brought us to this new house and, though it means some adjustments must be made, I'm keenly aware that He's right here with us. I also know that God desires new growth for me in this phase of my life and I'm excited (and a little anxious, to be honest!) to see what exactly it is He is planning. I have spent most of my life taking care of everyone else first the majority of the time (especially the last 8 years), leaving little, if any, time to take care of myself. Now I believe God's telling me that I am to start focusing more on what He's doing in me and that He is going to use this time to prepare me for what He's planned for me next year, when I'll have the school days all to myself. (Is that a choir of angels singing that I hear?)

Before I go any further, I want to clarify that I'm not going to stop helping other people. Being a mom and a follower of Jesus means that is a given. In my case, I have a tendency to go to extremes when it comes to neglecting myself for the sake of others (Google 'Codependency' and see what I mean) and that tendency only grew stronger when I became a mother, so this is why God is making a point to me at this time about it. It still feels awkward and incredibly selfish to talk about doing something for myself (even if it will benefit others around me as well). Talking about being excited for what the Lord has in store for "me" rather than "us" or "them" feels a bit like putting on dirty clothes, even though I know it shouldn't. I pray that, in time, God will help me overcome this issue completely.  He needs me to be ready for what He wants me to do and that won't happen if I never stop long enough for Him to prepare me for it.

So as I sit here staring this new school year in the face, I pray that all of you who may stumble upon this page and actually read through this post to this point (and even those who don't!) will experience exponential growth through Christ this season. Whether you sent kids off to school this morning as well, or it's just another Tuesday for you, set your mind on the things of God. Ask Him where He wants to take you, then patiently and expectantly listen for His response. Watch for His hand throughout your days. Feel the Spirit nudge you in the right direction. He has so much He wants to show you; all you have to do is ask and act.

Happy 13'-14' School Year!!! 

Movin' On Up

This summer we had two goals for ourselves:

1. Sell our house.
2. Buy a new one.

These two goals have consumed our lives for the past two months and have bled into every area of them in one way or another. At this point we have achieved goal #1 and are a week or two away from achieving goal #2, God willing. For me, this whole process has been an exercise in restraint (of my own anxious tendencies), walking in faith, and trusting God with everything, repeatedly. 

One Mother to Another

"The Big Three", a.k.a. my oldest 3 children, had their last day of school yesterday. As with all the usual end of year chaos, I had been struggling with the teacher gifts this year (they have 6 total, not including special subjects). I went through several ideas and scrapped them. I considered throwing into the pot that the room moms were collecting to get a group gift, but I really wanted something meaningful from me personally.

A Momentary Respite

I belong in the woods. Every time I leave them I feel like I've left part of my soul behind. I feel a peace amongst the trees that I don't feel anywhere else. There is a buoyant hope deep down inside that effortlessly rises to my surface. I feel more real, more alive, more in tune with God and the rest He is always inviting me to find in Him. My souls feels quiet. Even when my mind refuses to relax, on the whole I feel less anxious.

In my life I feel as if I've been tumbling. Tumbling down...down....down... some bump and boulder riddled hill with no end in sight. But now, as I sit in these woods on the back stoop of a cabin, I feel as though I've finally come to a stop. As I catch my breath on this earthen ledge overlooking the rocky descent below I know, without a doubt, that when I pack up my things and leave these trees tomorrow, I will tumble faster and faster down that hill with each mile I put between us. I'm powerless to stop it.

The Price of This Pace

My grandmother died today, and I'm angry.

I'm not angry at God, or strokes, or doctors. I'm angry at myself.

If These Eyes Could Only See

Last weekend was a weekend full of excitement. Among the many events going on, the highlights were the "Picture Party" for the team I traveled to Haiti with, and our church's spring baptism service where 9 people I love were baptized, including my 2 oldest children and one of my closest friends! It was a whirlwind of excitement and joy where, for the first time since being in Haiti, I felt as if I were on mission for God almost constantly.

Reuniting with the Haiti team was such a blessing. When you spend a week in constant, deeply personal & spiritual community with a group of people, then you are thrust back into your life like being shoved off a moving train, it can be a little jarring.

Getting Out of the Boat (An Open Letter to New Missionaries)

Just last week one of my nieces went on her first mission trip. Having just had my own first mission trip experience, I was very excited for her and all that she would experience. Her supporters were invited to write her a letter that would be given to her while on mission, so I did. I'm posting it here to share the sentiments within with all new missionaries embarking on their first trip or for people considering taking their first mission trip. Of course, even if you don't fall into one of those categories, you are welcome to read and comment as well! My trip to Haiti changed me deeply in profound ways. My hope is the same for all who decide to follow God's call to "get out of the boat."