Faith

Redefine a Fall

If someone falls many people usually notice it, and some even rush to help. I remember, several years ago, walking into the grocery store and an older lady, on her way out of the store, fell. She was bleeding and had potentially broken a bone or two, but far above her apparent injury, she was embarrassed for the attention it brought. I get it. More recently I got it personally.

It was a beautiful morning returning home from Brooklyn obtaining her driver’s permit. Typically, I run on the treadmill before the sun is up, but that week I had spent my pre-sunrise mornings between work and waiting for the DPS to open, so I had skipped out on my routine cardiovascular exercise. I was in quite the mood of celebration from Brooklyn’s perseverance and success. The sun was bright and the weather was mild. The outdoors was calling.

Although I’ve never run outside all by my lonesome without Brandon, or Jaron, or the entire Meadows Family entourage, I am quite conditioned for our typical 1.5-mile path. So off I went with my phone in hand, my earbuds in and my timer running (Jaron would expect nothing less).

Feelings of peace came over me as I took in the cool-breeze, enjoying the great outdoors and the quietness of country living. Visions flooded my mind. Motivation rose up within me. Maybe I would sign-up for a 5K. I’ve never thought I could do it, but if a girl can go for a run outside all by herself, she’s just the type to commit to an organized run. I pictured having an official number pinned to my shirt and receiving my time as I crossed the finish line when……BAM! Onto the ground I hit!

Adrenaline is so awesome. Can’t say I didn’t feel the fall, but I wasn’t in pain. One glance at my leg and with the utmost disgust I said, “Oh great!” I knew I’d need stitches. With phone in hand I called my neighbor to come pick me up. Real runners would probably walk the three-quarter a mile back home, but obviously I am not a real runner. So here came “The Sisters” (also known as my Mom and Aunt Donna) in their big red truck to pick me up!

I got back home and washed it the best I could and headed in to the emergency room.

First of all, it’s super embarrassing to go to the emergency room when you don’t have an emergency. However, the only thing that would have frustrated me more in the moment would have been to pay an urgent care to tell me I’d need to go to the emergency department to have it stitched. Secondly, I felt humiliated to tell them my need, “I fell and need stitches.” Why is that humiliating? Because what is the next question asked? “How did you fall?” They have to rule out any potential underlying possibilities for the fall. “Oh, I was running.” “You’re a runner?” “No, not really. I usually run on my treadmill, but I decided to go run outside today.”

It’s like taking a bright yellow highlighter to the description “clumsy” hyphenated by my name. It’s like grabbing the mega-phone and saying, “Heather, the girl who can barely put one foot in front of the other, the girl who can’t chew gum and walk at the same time thought she could go for a run, but here she is in the emergency department needing stitches.”

That’s actually not the way it was at all. But that’s how I felt.

My name has never been found in the “sport” category. To me this incident supported exactly why. Until…..

Until my sweet, precious husband said to me, “I don’t know why you’re so embarrassed. You had an athletic injury. That’s something to be proud of.” Sitting there in that exam room on the gurney, I responded, “I have what?” “An athletic injury,” he said.

My visit to the ER for 15 stitches (3 of which were sub-dermal).

AN ATHLETIC INJURY?!?!?!?! Heather Renee Cochrane-Meadows (no, I’ve never hyphenated my last name, but people, I’ve been waiting my whole life for a moment like this) had an ATHLETIC injury! And you know the kind of people who get athletic injuries? Athletes! So that must mean I am—okay, I may possibly be getting a little carried away. I’ll stop.

The point is: I needed a new label. In one sentence my husband took me from wanting to crawl under a rock to walking proudly (despite the hint of a limp—but that’s beside the point).

We spend much of our life with a label we have accepted as our identity. Whether it’s a label assigned by someone else, by a circumstance or by our own self-doubt it means we live limited.

If you’ve had a fall—whether it’s an emotional fall, a spiritual fall, or even a physical fall, know that falling can only happen if you’re moving.

So many people sit back and criticize those who fall. But sitters can never fall. You have to be in motion to fall.

If you find yourself a mile from home, on the road with a busted knee and skinned hands—figuratively speaking—here are a few take-aways:

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#1—Don’t be embarrassed to call for help. I definitely could have walked home, but I didn’t have to, so why do it? I knew my mom and aunt would get me back home with less pain in less time than I could on my own. Embrace the humility and let others come to your rescue. You don’t have to do it alone.

#2—Let your strengths catch you. Instead of focusing on your weakness, utilize your strength. When the ER nurse went to give me my release form she assumed I was left handed. I said, “No, I’m right handed.” Surprised she stated, “That’s something. Most people take the brunt of the fall on their dominant side.” That is true. But I’ve grown up naturally protecting my right side, the side that took the brunt of my burn injury twenty-eight years ago. My dominant side would have required a skin graft after a fall like that. My greatest benefit was falling on my stronger side.

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#3—Peel off the label and grab any you like. What got me exercising years ago wasn’t that I wanted the label of “runner,” but that I wanted to peel off the label of “eating disorder.” Weight is an issue for me, and exercise has been a healthy way to deal with it. I’m certain the enemy wanted to defeat my healthy habit on the road three weeks ago, but I’m making better time today, than I was then (on my treadmill of course).

If you’ve had a hard hit, if you’ve fallen, if you’ve allowed it to define you, call for help, focus on your strengths and redefine who you are, celebrating the fact that you’re a person of movement---- and just keep moving!

Isaiah 40:29 ESV   He gives power to the faint,                                         and to him who has no might He increases strength.

Have you confronted the limitations of labels?  Please mark your calendar to join me for a Women's Night at Coweta Assembly of God on Sunday November 6th at 6pm.  I'm going to share about the words we need to receive, repeat and those we need to rebuke in order to walk in the label the Lord has given us.  All are welcome to attend.  And if you know a teenage girl, bring her along too!

*note-- I guess nurses can be a bit gory-- or maybe it's the burn survivor in me-- but there's a few pics at the end if you like that sort of thing.

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Struggling To See

*please note: this post was written to speak life, love and healing.  The many posts I've read have grieved my heart to see people I care about offended and hurt.  Please, please let us understand how detrimental our comments can be in the lives of others and weigh them before the Lord.  God does not want His people in this pain. Both my parents started experiencing a decline in vision around their mid-thirties. Understandably, I anticipated the likelihood of inheriting a genetic flaw to my sight around the same age. Accepting what I felt was an inevitable need, I made an appointment for an assessment.

My mental approach was pitiful. And vain. Very, very vain. Contacts are just not an option. I can take blood, puss, and even respiratory secretions over coming in contact with an eyeball any day. The thought of having to touch my own eyeball to insert a visual aid absolutely nauseated me. Then the vanity side is that, I do not look good in glasses. It seems to draw attention to my most prominent facial feature--- my nose. Definitely don’t need to add definition to that part of my face! So no, I wasn’t excited for the new world of possibilities—different colored eyes with contacts or perhaps a studious look with glasses. No. Not excited at all.

You can imagine my delight when the optometrist finished his exam and said, “Heather, if all my patients were like you, I’d be out of a job! You have textbook vision.” Textbook vision!!! That’s what he said! No contacts. No glasses. Just take the world into view with my very own God-given ability to see!

But honestly, there’s so much more I feel I can’t see than what I can.

There is a world I’m struggling to see. It’s a world Louis Armstrong sang about in his 1967 song “What a Wonderful World.” It was one of Dad’s favorites, so I grew up familiar with the lyrics.

I see trees of green, red roses too I see them bloom for me and you And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue and clouds of white The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky Are also on the faces of people going by I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do They're really saying I love you.

I hear babies crying, I watch them grow They'll learn much more than I'll never know And I think to myself what a wonderful world Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world

Louis Armstrong sang of a world he wanted to see. The culture at the time was anything but beautiful. It’s a world we’re still longing to see today. But the recent event in my home state and the social media responses make it difficult to see.

I can’t see how in today’s world we can watch a video of someone die and not be completely broken by the sight. How do these images come across our feed and not cause us to lay awake at night? Our ability to see with our eyes is blinding our hearts, numbing our ability to feel.

I can’t see why opinion trumps compassion. We have limited knowledge, limited insight but we draw our conclusions with no regard for whomever it may hurt.

I can’t see why we allow the spiritual attack of division.

I can’t see where humanity is often absent in the human race. Shouldn’t they be synonymous?

Merriam-Webster defines humanity as “the quality or state of being human; the quality or state of being kind to other people or to animals; all people.”

Vocabulary.com provides this definition: “Humanity is the human race, which includes everyone on Earth. It’s also a word for the qualities that make us human, such as the ability to love and have compassion, be creative, and not be a robot or alien.” (bolding added).

I wish there were some contacts or glasses to provide a lens by which to see the world as Mr. Armstrong sang. If there were, would we use it?

I’m convinced the way to a beautiful world is found in one simple line, “I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do. They're really saying I love you.”

It comes down to you and me. It comes down to our everyday interactions, visiting with each other at the grocery store, praying with each other at church, and cheering with one another at the games.

The mainstream media nor social-media will preserve humanity in the hearts of humans. That comes down to you and me individually; speaking life, shaking a hand, giving a hug and showing love.

“She saw the world, not always as it was, but as it could be…” -Cinderella

Isaiah 26:3 NLT You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in You, all whose thoughts are fixed on You!

#peaceday #peaceeveryday #internationaldayofpeace

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The Other Side of Failing

When my friend Sara and I were revamping the website from heathersblessedjourney.com to heathermeadows.com we also reworked the tag line. Changing the name of the website was going to lose the emphasis placed on the “RN” in jouRNey, but it was still my hope to reflect my work as a nurse somewhere in the new tag line.

We met the goal with two words: “little doses.” It’s a subtle hint most may not even see.   But here’s the story behind it. As a NICU nurse, the amount of medication I administer to my tiny, tiny patients is quite small. Too much is harmful, but those itty-bitty doses achieve great things in their bodies.

That is what I wanted this place to be. A place where you can pop in for a few minutes and grab a little dose of something good. My heartbeat was to inject small amounts of inspiration, joy, strength and encouragement from my life moments into yours.

This last week I received more than a “little dose” from a life moment with my daughter.

Let me give a short back-story.

There was a mother and daughter who had a beautiful relationship. But then, something changed. It started with an “H” and ended with “ormones”! It was NOT pretty! This change brought out the worst, most ugly, dark sides of both the mother and daughter. If it had been a marriage, I’m most certain divorce court would have been considered, but parent/child relationships face the good, the bad and the ugly and sometimes have to just hang on for dear life.

Yes. That’s our story. That’s Brooklyn and me. I’ll share more about the season in the book I’m writing, but for now, I want to share with you one of the scriptures I stood on in those dark moments.

Galatians 6:9 NLT So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up.

I’m not proclaiming there won’t be any more bumps in the road, but I am sharing that when everything hit the fan, when doors were slamming, drinks were tossing, and voices yelling, I’d stand on this scripture as if on a mountain and quote it at the top of my lungs. We got tired. We were wore out. We got discouraged. We were disheartened, disappointed and dismayed at times, but—we would not give up.

“…..a harvest of blessing IF we don’t give up.”

The day the Lord so faithfully brought our baby girl into this world, He had every intention of her life being a blessing. Not just for her parents, but for herself and for Him. We weren’t giving up on that.

And what a blessing she was to me this last week. Watching Galatians 6:9 at work in her own personal life injected an incredibly special dose of inspiration, joy, strength and encouragement into my heart.

Brooklyn’s half birthday fell on Sunday, September 4th. Labor Day on Monday pushed Brooklyn back in being able to test for her driver’s permit to Tuesday. She wanted to be the first in line when they opened. We got up on Tuesday at 5am, left the house at 6am and pulled in the parking lot at 6:33am to line up for the 7am opening. Brooklyn was seventh in line.

I stood, waiting excitedly for her to complete her test knowing that she’d get her paper signed and off to the tag agency we’d go for her permit. Well, she didn’t pass.

A bit taken aback, she declared that we aren’t the type of people who quit in the face of failure and that she wanted to try again the next day. Super proud parent moment.

So. There you have it. We got up Wednesday morning, a smidge bit earlier at 4:30am, left the house at 5:30am, and we arrived an hour before opening, putting us third in line. We checked in and the agent asked Brooklyn, “Did they tell you about the skip button?” Brooklyn said, “No.” The agent informed, “If you don’t know the answer to a question, you can hit ‘skip’. If it’s a question you need it will come back around, but it may not come back at all.” Awesome!

I took a seat over by the door on the bench. Brooklyn completed the test and walked around the corner. I whispered, “How’d it go?” She shook her head. I responded quietly and compassionately, “What?”

We’re doing a parent-taught driving course, so I knew she knew the information to pass the test. We got in the car and before I could ask a question the floodgates opened. Whoa! Emotion! Hold the phone!

In borderline hysteria she proceeded to express all the inadequacies attached to that test. I was sifting through my mental rolodex of encouraging words, when she revealed, “And when I checked back in with the lady, she asked me why I didn’t skip any of the questions but I just thought I could answer them without having to!!!”

“Wait. What?” I couldn’t believe she didn’t take the lady’s advice and skip the questions. Not one!   This shifted our conversation from the topic of intellect to the issue of pride. Was she too prideful to humble herself in admitting that she possibly didn’t have all the answers to every question? Hmm.

The girl made it back before school started and I anticipated the possibility that she may just want to push it off for a few days to review. Maybe she’d want to go ahead and miss school for an afternoon testing time. Some of us just can’t think when the sun is barely up.

Nevertheless, I wasn’t surprised when I picked her up from school and she decided to go back on Thursday, for the third day in a row, before the crack of dawn to try again. Nope. I wasn’t shocked. Galatians 6:9 was at work within her. She was gonna reap a blessing cause she wasn’t gonna give up!

So up we were again, in the dark of the morning, headed in for round three reviewing the blessing of the “skip” button! In the true ironies of life, I got pulled over for doing around or about 75 in a 65. Let me tell you about grace. The Lord must have sprinkled our car with the pixie dust of His favor because that officer gave me a warning on no account of my own. Although I’m a talker, I don’t say too much when flashing lights, a uniform and handcuffs accompany the individual. What a story for Brooklyn to tell her kids one day.

Brooklyn checked in, was humble, raw and transparent with the agent and confirmed what she needed to know to approach this test. “Ma’am, this is my third time here.” (Which honestly, the lady already knew. By this point we felt maybe we should add the two Department of Public Safety agents to our Christmas card list). Brooklyn expressed her understanding of the skip button wanting to make sure it would not penalize her for the number of times she hit it. Then Brooklyn went over to take her test. At this point I headed out to the car, where she and I had agreed to meet.

I sat in the car with a small view of Brooklyn standing at the voting-booth-style computer. I prayed for her. “Lord, You created her innermost being. You stitched her together. I pray You speak Your peace, calmness and confidence from the top of her head to the sole of her feet. Let her know You have equipped her for success. Give her assurance.” And on and on I prayed.

I watched as she walked back over to the lady, had an exchange that I couldn’t see and proceeded out to the car. I got out of the car and there she did it—a thumbs up! I may have gotten overly excited. Oh, who am I kidding?! I totally got overly excited and she and I hugged and jumped like giddy girls in the parking lot of the DPS!

Brooklyn said that when she went back to the agent to get her paper signed, the lady exclaimed, for all to hear, “You passed!!!” And she only skipped two questions, not missing any! The agent was so happy for Brooklyn!

“…..a harvest of blessing IF we don’t give up.”

I know Brooklyn contemplated canning the whole idea. I know because in her despair of failing the second time she expressed those very thoughts. But we all know that’s not even a logical option. She’d have to pass it at some point in her life.

The question for us to consider though is: How many blessings have we missed out on because we gave up?

I can’t recall how many times I’ve said, “Just forget it!” or “I’m done!” or “I quit!” Sometimes our emotions make us completely illogical. Exactly the reason we don’t make important decisions when we’re super emotional. In those times, this Voice inside me says, “Heather, don’t give up. I have good things in store for you. Believe. Persevere. Press in.”

The Lord whispers that truth to all of us. Our challenges may look a little different but we’ve all got them, and there is a blessing tucked inside each and every one we overcome!

Thank you for spending some time allowing me to share this life moment with you! Please take it for the little dose of inspiration, joy, strength and encouragement it has tucked into it.

Bless you!

*side note- thankful my girl wanted me to share this story for whomever it could encourage.

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Positive Living From Our Heart, Mind and Words

I’m grateful to say I’ve received quite a few cards in my life. Maybe I’m old-fashioned but there’s just something super special about going to the mailbox and getting a card! My love for words could play into it too. I mean when people send me a card I know every one of those words are just for me. It’s a little gift sealed inside. You may have thought Hallmark had the market on stitching the perfect sentences together for cards covering every life event, I mean they did say, “when you care enough to send the very best.” But my mother-in-law found a line to top the infamous Gold Crown Hallmark. It’s Blue Mountain.

It became apparent over the years that if the card was Blue Mountain I was most likely going to get a little teary-eyed reading it. Only a girl who loves words puts more emphasis on what’s in the envelope than what is in the gift box.

Well, just this week while prepping Caden’s room for painting, I found a little book my Dad had given to my Mom titled, Think Positive Thoughts Every Day. And guess who was the publisher? Blue Mountain!

So how in the world did this book get in the nightstand of Caden’s room? Actually I do know the answer to that, but it’s a story full of many words, so I’ll refrain from sharing those minute details. However, did I take a moment to flip through the book? Of course!

And on the inside were my Dad’s written words, “May everyday of your life be positive in your walk- love you- you make me feel positive about myself- Mike.”

Both of my parents loved words. And they shared them. A lot of them. Frequently. Actually to paint the picture, I never remember there being silence in my home growing up. Whether we were happy, mad or just ho-hum we were talking.

I thought that’s the way things were. For everyone. Until I got married. Brandon is a guy who cuts straight to the chase. We’ve both learned from one another. I’ve learned the value of silence, and he’s learned the gift of conversation. Occasionally I’ll nudge him, “Babe. Words are nourishment to my heart. I just need more, so would you please start over and tell me this story in a way that I would tell it, not sparing any detail?” He’s so precious and he fills my love tank with his words.

But reading my Dad’s message to my Mom not only brought back the memory of the talking, but of the positivity. My parents would be the first to tell you they trudged through life with their own luggage of shortcomings and hang-ups, but I have to tell you, they were both positive people.

We didn’t have a puppy-dogs-and-rainbows home. We dealt with our own fair share of ugliness, like most families. Nevertheless, their effort to think and speak good thoughts were fundamental in molding my personality, my character and my mindset.

So—did my parents never have anything to feel negative about? Oh contraire mon frere! If you’ve stumbled upon this site for the first time, I first want to thank you so much for visiting, and second, invite you to watch the video of our story in the link at the end of this post to see the heartache and uncertainties my parents faced in their life. My story is their story.

So how in the world did they do it?

  • Train. Train. We have to train our minds to think good thoughts. We have to develop a habit. Might sound crazy, but people who are Negative-Nellies have wired their brains to naturally jump on the bad news train. They’re put-out they just washed their car when the sky grows dark, instead of being grateful they don’t have to water their flowers for the day. (By the way- so sorry if you’re name is Nellie—I actually know a Nellie who is super, super positive).
  • My parents had each other. My Dad passed away eleven years ago, but when he was alive he or my Mom one, was carrying the positivity wand. When my Mom would get all Debbie-Downer, Dad would challenge her to get in gear. (Actually, he was always much more direct than that. He’d say something along the lines of “knock it off” followed by what good thing they had to focus on). And yes, when Dad got down, as he more and more frequently did closer to his death, my Mom would speak life into his soul with good things. Whether we’re married or not, let’s be sure to surround ourselves with people who are positive thinkers and speakers. (Again, so sorry to the Debbie’s— I’ve got a Debbie in mind now that is the picture of positivity).
  • To stitch the first two together, I have to tell you, it’s more than a mindset. These words right here, “in light of eternity” are game changers. When we compare our present trial to eternity, we realize how temporary the rigmarole of life actually is. No matter what we are facing, and people, I say that with much sensitivity and sympathy, understanding just how very difficult the things we face can be, but with all my being, I have to tell you that you can trudge through it with genuine joy, peace and happiness. You can take any circumstance head-on and still hold on to optimism knowing you’re in a win-win situation with the hope of eternity. My parents buried a child with that hope and my Dad passed on with that hope. And on top of it—they’ve lived the days with smiles! Authentic smiles ☺️

Your heart will feel blessed as your mind gears toward good thoughts and your mouth shares them.

2 Corinthians 4:17 NLT For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever!

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A Valuable Run: Making Family Devotionals a Reality

There are tons of good ideas that are never put into practice.  Many different factors can be the cause.  Ones that I’ve experienced personally are: lack of direction, self-doubt, and good intentions. The last one listed may throw you for a loop, because there is a lot of good that can come from good intentions.  But as I’m discussing in the book I’m writing, good intentions by itself can cause much harm and damage.  There needs to be more than a good intention if we’re going to actually accomplish something of value, as we’ll see in this post.

There’s a lot to learn from runners.  Some of which was illustrated for me this past Friday during Jaron’s first cross-country meet.  Before the official run, the team got familiar with the track.  They both walked and ran the course, giving them a mental approach in how to tackle it for the run.

I, myself, have never been in an official “run,” unless my treadmill programs and occasional outside run with Brandon count for anything.  But my experience with physical exertion led me to pick up on a few things that relate to our family morning devotionals.

For years I had the desire to have a consistent time for family devotionals. (Key word here is consistent.  We’d find the time here and there, but it was more there than here if you know what I mean).

Countless families have spoke of their family devotional time over the years, but it hit me when we were in….are you ready for it?....dun dun dunnn…..you guessed it—small group!  I told ya we’d make it back for another treasured nugget from attending small group, or life group or Sunday school or whatever we may call it-- or as my high school geometry teacher would put it, “whatever floats your boat.”  (I just loved that lady!)

Years and years ago, in our small group class, our friend Dayna shared how her family had their own little service in their living room one night a week growing up.  They got into the Word of God, they had worship, they shared needs and they prayed.  How incredible is that?!  Sign me up!  We're going to do that with our family!

Only we didn't.

Through the years I kept thinking it'd pan out.  I envisioned the season Brandon was out of engineering school-- then we'd be home together in the evenings and could have what Dayna's family had.  Well, before we knew it, we had another baby, then I was in nursing school-- rarely home for quality family time.  We juggled.  We juggled goals, educations and careers.  We juggled dance recitals, horse riding lessons, soccer practice, basketball practice, baseball practice, birthday parties and school activities and yes, church activities too.

The opportunity for consistent family devotionals was not happening.  Nope.  An open door of time never presented.  So a couple of years ago we created one.

We had to let go of what we thought family devotional time should look like.  We evaluated what would work for our family and we did it.

This is how it looks in our house. At 7:45am we grab our Bibles, sit at either the table or in the living room, read a small bit and pray.

Why is this so important? While we may have a solid daily quiet time with the Lord, we can’t assume our kids will. Think of how long it took for you to get to the place of such commitment. When it comes to establishing a daily devotional time, we need to realize that our kids may need some spiritual spoon-feeding. In their concrete thinking ways, they don’t even know to tell you they’re spiritually hungry. Just assume they are and feed them…daily.

What do we pray? The Word of God is alive and active so we pray what we read over our children each morning.  We pray for the challenges they may face, for the opportunities they may have to show love and kindness, we pray for their teachers, friends and fellow classmates.  This is also the time we pray as a family for the needs of others-- from lost dogs to friends with cancer, we bring it in the morning.

Let me tell you.  Once the commitment is made, everything, I mean everything will come in opposition to that time.  There are mornings we haven't moved as efficiently, or maybe are trying to multi-task too much.  Our allotted fifteen minutes dwindles.  So here's a couple different things we've done.

We set the timer. If we only have seven minutes, we set the timer so we are sure to leave on time and we take the seven minutes. Other times we don’t even have that, so we grab our Bibles and read a little in the car and pray on the way.  Occasionally, we’ve had to condense it even more, grabbing just one scripture to discuss and having prayer.

Friends, the Lord knows our hearts.  So many times we can't give Him what we think we should so we end up giving nothing.  Just give something.  Start somewhere.  Who knows, maybe it'll end up looking like what Dayna's family had, but you'll never know until you start.

So how in the world does this relate to a runner?

Well--

#1 Have a Game Plan.  Remember how Jaron got to familiarize himself with his course before he ran it?  That gave him a game plan of how to approach it and how to pace himself.  We need a game plan for our family devotional time.  Explore what would be the best approach for you.  Carve out what time you can.  This is going to look different for so many of us.  Develop a plan.  God will honor it.

#2 Let Others Motivate You.  When Jaron ran Friday, the other runners helped him improve his time!  He said he passed seven people during the run.  With each person he passed he wondered if he could pass another.  It was his motivation to keep going and it resulted in improvement.  That's what Dayna did for our family.  While we've not developed a time reflective of the one she had growing up, we did develop one.  If it weren't for her sharing so specifically and so personally what it meant to her growing up, I don't know that we'd have hung on to the intention for so long.  We finally made something happen.  And remember, something is better than nothing. Maybe my children will further build upon what we’re doing now and do even more for their family devotional time with their kids!

#3 Just Do It (I'm not sure it's even legal for me to say that-- so for the sake of covering my fanny- let's just tip our hat to Nike right about now). This is where we get back to the good intentions. We need more than mere good intention.  We need commitment. When we’re committed, we’ve resolved to do something.  If it’s a commitment then it’s strong, determined and unwavering. Sometimes we look at the course and think it’s too difficult; possibly too many hills and too far to the finish line. But once you are going you realize how doable it is and how great it feels each time you finish. There’s only a feeling of accomplishment after a good run. It never feels wasted. It feels good. The same goes with those family devotions. Just start the run!

Psalm 92:2 NLT It is good to proclaim Your unfailing love in the morning, Your faithfulness in the evening,

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Why Attend Small Group

It's funny how despite reminders on my phone and a color coded calendar I occasionally overlook the date for school pictures or even the deadline for school fundraisers, but amazingly can recall what someone said over a decade ago. I suppose once something gets in my heart it sticks.

Since we got married, Brandon and I have been in some type of small group at our church. Traditionally, it's been referred to as "Sunday School," but the same gathering has been given a more modernized term, now known as "small group." Whatever we may choose to call it, it's been an instrumental part of our family's development.

Through our time in small group, people have spoke volumes into our hearts. And while the small group leaders are obviously a huge component of what has been delivered in that time, it wasn't the small group leaders alone who always seemed to give exactly what we needed in the particular season of life, our marriage, or our family.

For instance, I remember our friends, Penny and Daniel being transparent, giving our class some humble insight into what may potentially unfold on any given Sunday morning in their home when their girls were little. Daniel shared that although there were occasional mornings in which they had to run out of the house with dishes left in the sink, it seemed to irritate Penny increasingly more on Sunday mornings-- until he brought it to her attention. After which she realized it wasn't so much the dishes that bothered her as much as it was a tool being used to steal her heart and focus away from what the Lord had in store for her in service those particular days.

This awareness seriously revolutionized our Sunday mornings. When our children were little, if they happened to be screaming and crying through the process of trying to get ready, if Brandon and I were irritated with one another, if the coffee mug lid leaked on the outfit I finally decided to wear, if we were running fifteen minutes late (or possibly even more), and yes, if there was a disaster left in the kitchen, I'd think, "This is what Daniel and Penny were talking about. This isn't going to distract me from what I'm about to give and get today."

And in the instance I forgot, someone else remembered. Let's face it, sometimes we just feel like saying, and may actually go right ahead and say, "Forget it!" That's been me. Especially in the instances of running super late. But that is when Brandon would say and does say, "No, we're going." I'd argue, "What's the point? We're only going to be there for like twenty minutes before class is over." Brandon wouldn't and doesn't let up, so we load up. We may be grumbly and gripey, but we go. And we are always so glad we do. It diffuses and distracts from whatever mishap may have occurred. We grow, realizing what we would have missed out on, even if it is sheer determination that gets us there. The realization reinforces our commitment.

I'm going to share another instance in the next post of how someone contributing in small group has revolutionized the dynamic of our home. I hope you come back and receive from it. It's all in effort to pass on to you what others have passed on to us-- those thoughts which have been influential and effective for our family.

Today, let me leave with some encouragement (and maybe a little nudge) to get involved in a small group if you're not already. Here are a few things to keep close to your heart:

1. Shop around. Okay, that may not be the best term to use, but cut me a little slack. I've heard some people say that some churches are clickish. Well, yes. They are. ***WHAT?!?!?!**** Did I really just say that?! I did. (❤️ and ☺️ ). Let's change our view of it a little. "Clickish" has such a negative tone to it, but honestly, we can't take 600 people for instance and expect everyone to have the same interests and personalities. I mean, good grief, there are only 6 people in my house and I only have about three meals that please every single one of them. Every other dinner is consumed from a grateful heart and a hungry belly, not necessarily from an enthusiasm for what's on the table. We can't please everyone, every time. With that in mind, when you're at church pray and ask the Lord to direct you as to where He wants you to serve and receive in the body of believers. There is a place for you. I promise. But it can take a bit of effort in finding it.

2. Be transparent. Okay, again. I say that with caution. I'm not implying you walk into a class and air your dirty laundry (and yes, we all have dirty laundry-- from the pulpit to the pew we all need a good wash cycle). What I'm trying to encourage is for you to find a group of people who are willing to walk life with you, sharing the struggles as seamlessly as the celebrations. Brandon and I have so many times, I mean SOOO many times thought and expressed, "We're not the only ones." Daniel and Penny's dirty dish story may have not been a three point spiritual lesson, but it was profound for a young couple with a young family. I mean people-- I'm going back to a memory over thirteen years ago. You can't convince me that's not profound right there! I'm so grateful for their transparency and I hope to sharpen others by my willingness to be the same.

3. Seasons change. And so will your group. This doesn't mean we drop the relationships, it just means we get to make more. We haven't been in the same group with Daniel and Penny for I don't know how long, but they'll always be in our treasure chest of special people. A motto I share frequently is, "life is about people." We need people. We need personal connection. Allow the Lord to move you in the different seasons to make those connections He desires to work through. Now that's not saying change all the time. Let's be people who commit, but when we've grown from young married to a family with young children to raising teenagers (Lord, help us all), we need to receive from, give to and be sharpened by those who have been-there-done-that or who are doing and surviving (😉 know you're not alone).

Alrighty. Ready. Set. Go.

Find that group waiting for you! You have something to contribute and something to receive.

I'll meet ya back here next time to share another nugget deposited into us by our small group. It's a good one.

Hebrews 3:6 NLT But Christ, as the Son, is in charge of God’s entire house. And we are God’s house, if we keep our courage and remain confident in our hope in Christ.

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