Election Results - Regardless of the Outcome

A few weeks ago we were buzzing around the kitchen making lunches, unloading the dishwasher and getting breakfast. For some reason or another, completely off topic from the current task, Jaron made a comment about how destitute our country would be if a particular presidential candidate was voted into office. At times I really wonder what triggers their thoughts. Like all Americans, we have had many discussions regarding the election. Brooklyn will be able to vote in the next presidential election so this one felt more relevant to her. Nevertheless, I didn’t think any of our discussions had created a mindset of gloom and doom. I don’t know. Maybe because we weren’t super passionate about our options. There could have been some subliminal tones of negativity.

I explained to Jaron that out of the presidential elections I’ve been able to vote in, not every person I voted for won the election. While the people on the losing end feel they’re left with a result that isn’t what is best, it doesn’t mean it’s the end of life-as-we-know-it. Our hope is not in the candidate. Our hope is in the Lord. I wrapped it up with this, “Jaron, either way this election goes, I know one thing to be true. The Lord will take care of His people.”

Several months ago in my prayers for our country, I began praying one scripture. Psalm 7:9 “Bring to an end the violence of the wicked and make the righteous secure— You, the righteous God who probes minds and hearts.” And this prayer was not dependent on whether one candidate won or another. This prayer is the cry of my heart for our country. Only the Lord knows hearts and minds, and I interceded for Him to help me see beyond the person and see who He could use. On the day after Election Day, I pray no matter what side we were on, we can continue to seek the Lord to work through our leaders.

Most of my children voted yesterday, not at a polling station but in their classrooms. And while they don’t understand the ins-and-outs of the big picture, they are learning the importance of the process. Their votes weren’t counted yesterday but they cast them nevertheless. They practiced what it is to exercise a right, a privilege and a responsibility granted to them by the sacrifices of so many before them. Again, regardless of the outcome, your vote honored our veterans.

Before we left for school this morning we had prayer for our country. This isn’t a sporting event with a winning and losing team. This is the UNITED States of America, so we interceded for unity. I think of it similar to marriage. You know when you have a fight with your spouse? (If you’ve ever fought with your spouse. I realize some of us may have more experience than others). But even if you get your point across, it doesn’t feel like you’ve won anything, because fighting brings dissension. And somewhere in the moment, we have to desire unity over being right.

My friend Jayne Patton said it so well in her Facebook post this morning,

I'm sorry - gloating just looks terrible on believers. If you truly believe God answered your prayers, then with all humility - be grateful. Don't be tempted to take credit for something you profess God did. Maintain a spirit of repentance. Look for opportunities to share the gospel. Love well and seek to build unity. And please, PLEASE continue to pray for our Nation!! The battle isn't over until Jesus comes...#sameconversationIhadwithmykids #startsinthehome

Lastly, I have to share what another friend posted, “Wouldn't it be nice if we were as vocal about our belief in Christ as we were about which candidate we wanted to win? Life is short. If you are a believer you know who wins in the end. Stop pouting and go tell your loved ones what they mean to you, hug your friends, forgive those who've hurt you, share your faith, and make a difference in the life of another. Those are the things that matter in eternity.”

That is some good stuff.

If you won- congratulations. Pray for your leaders.

If you lost- I’m sorry. Pray for your leaders.

Let’s aim for eternity and meet on the other side. God has something way better in store! In the meantime, if things get too uncomfortable maybe we should meet up in Disney. I did see a shirt that said, “friends who Disney together, stay together.”

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All You Care to Eat

When it comes to vacationing, we’re all geared a little differently. Some are drawn to the mountains and snow, some to the beaches and sand, some to museums, some to amusement parks, some cruising on the ocean blue, and some enjoy hitting the open road wherever it may lead them. And then there are those who enjoy it all. Over the last seventeen years, Brandon and I have had a bit of variety in our get-out-of-town trips. We’ve hit a few big cities visiting museums and seeing shows, we’ve enjoyed a cruise (no surprise Mickey was on the ship—we just love that mouse), we’ve soaked up sun on a few beaches, and we’ve continued to feed our Disney addiction, cultivating one in our children, with return trips for fun in the parks.

Whatever it is we have planned for vacation, one feature is always at the top of our list--- where we’ll eat!

I realize not everyone may look forward to food as much as we do, but stick with me. Even if you’re not a passionate eater, there’s still something here for you too.

On our recent vacation to Disney’s Aulani resort on Oahu, we enjoyed a character dining experience called Menehune Mischief at their Makahiki restaurant. Oh my! The food!

Our family tried to remember all the different items on the buffet. There was mac and cheese, watermelon, pineapple, cantaloupe, ham, chicken tenders, a salad bar, pork lion, pizza, ahi tuna, teriyaki chicken, stuffed tortellini, potatoes, sushi rolls, salmon, shrimp, crab legs, prime rib, apple cobbler, mud pie, cheesecake and more! Now is the time I should admit that this was the list of items consumed by our family alone!

I’m not proud to say, but I walked out of there so stuffed I felt sick. The buffet said, “all-you-care-to-eat.” Growing up, I always thought a buffet was all-you-can-eat. But it didn’t matter, because there was what seemed like an endless feast before me, and I enjoyed every last bite. Especially the crab legs!

You may be wondering what this has to do with anything. I want to thank you for hanging in here with me to find out.

While there were many, many people who partook of that meal, I ate as if it were prepared just for me. I wanted to try a little bit of everything. (And seconds of some—like the crab legs.)

And I came hungry. In anticipation of that meal, I had been chintzy with my intake the entire day. I wanted room to receive of all the goodness that was going to be set before me.

Could you imagine going to someone’s home for dinner, walking in and seeing a buffet of dishes they prepared for your visit? Now, could you imagine seeing those beautiful dishes, the heart and excitement of the one who prepared it for you, and then choosing to only eat a protein bar?

I eat protein bars. And I eat them for nourishment, not for delight. A buffet is pure delight. It goes beyond meeting the basic nutritional need, and adds enjoyment to it.

Are you with me?

It’s exactly the same thing God does for us.

He has prepared a feast for us!!! The buffet has every good thing you can imagine—peace in the midst of problems, trust facing the unknown, joy in the presence of sadness, comfort, security, courage, strength when we feel weak, grace for our mistakes, hope when times are hard, happiness after hurt, and much, much more!

Can you imagine walking in, seeing a buffet with those items and deciding not to get a plate?

We do it a lot. We walk around hungry, burdened with the trials of this world, all the while the Lord is inviting us, “Come sit down with Me, take in My plan. Take in what I have prepared for you. Get close to Me and you will smell the aroma of what I have in store for you.”

When it comes to an all-you-care-to-eat buffet, you may want to be a little more conservative than I was, but when it comes to receiving from your Heavenly Father’s buffet, get a plate, a big one, because He has so much goodness prepared for you!

Psalm 23:4-6 NLT Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for You are close beside me. Your rod and Your staff protect and comfort me.  You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies. You honor me by anointing my head with oil.  My cup overflows with blessings.  Surely Your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the Lord forever.

Join me for a Women’s Night at Coweta Assembly of God this Sunday November 6th at 6pm as we dig in to 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!

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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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Everyday Easter

A grave can be beautiful. When Brooklyn was little she loved to go with my Mom to the cemetery to decorate the graves. It was a peaceful place, with beautiful flowers and meaningful stones. People visit to reflect on the life once lived. It’s a physical resting place in tribute of the one who once walked the earth. But I don’t like cemeteries. I can count the number of times I have visited my brother’s and my dad’s grave sites. My very first memory of a cemetery came the day I was discharged from the hospital on July 11^th 1988. You may have pictured a grand departure from the burn center, but it wasn’t. It was somber. My dad was there to take me home. (side note: my mom was home preparing the welcome home celebration).

On our way home, Dad turned into the cemetery. We pulled up beside the steps opening to the sidewalk which led to Jon’s grave. I don’t remember how my dad physically got me up to the grave. He probably carried me from the car. I do however, remember him kneeling down beside me and touching Jon’s marker. I took in the dates- January 18, 1979 to April 27, 1988. I remember Dad crying. I remember hurting inside more than the hurt I had sustained on the outside. I remember feeling empty, alone, and sadder than I believe many adults have ever encountered. I was seven.

Death didn’t claim me on April 27, 1988, but death, nevertheless, overwhelmed my life. Death has a sting. It’s realized in the days, unguaranteed and the questions, unanswered.

When we feel the grief of the grave, it is then, that we can understand the significance of an empty one.

When I celebrate the empty tomb on Easter morning, I’m celebrating from understanding the grief of a filled one.

For me, knowing Jesus overcame the grave means He overcame that dark day my brother was put into one.

In life, there is no greater defeat than death. Death is final. My mom has frequently said, “as long as we’re breathing, there is hope,” meaning, things can always change. It’s encouraging to think on such a statement when things are awry.

When the job has been lost; when the diagnosis has been given; when the spouse has forsaken or even abandoned the covenant; when the child is rebelling; when the flood waters rise and the storm keeps raging, we can remember there is still hope for better, because there is still life.

But actually, there’s more. There is hope beyond life.

We all aim to make choices we feel will result in a happy life. Even the most self-destructive of choices are made not necessarily to create misery but to escape it; all for the desire to just be happy.

So what helps us to be at peace with the life we have on this earth, even when this life has seemed pretty crummy?

It’s knowing that this isn’t all there is.

No matter what trials we face in this life, this life is nothing compared to the next.  (James 4:14)

It’s a truth applicable for every day we live, not just on Easter Sunday. It may be Wednesday, but He is still alive! The celebration isn’t confined to one day a year—it’s continually realized in the face of life’s darkest days and hardest places.

Rejecting the gift Jesus provided to us on the cross, and the victory He established on Resurrection Morning, is allowing death to accomplish the intended purpose. One choice, one choice, to accept and pronounce Jesus as Lord and Savior, conquers death and the grave forever.

This knowledge allows me to walk as an overcomer. This knowledge gives me the stride of a victor.

Scarred bodies, loved ones dead- not the end, because He rose again!

Philippians 1:20-21 NIV~ I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.

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How Could I Possibly Be Thankful?

My heart has been heavy approaching this day of Thanksgiving. I’m thinking of the mother facing the holidays for the first time after the tragic loss of her daughter; the family who lost their baby this week; the daughter whose holiday gatherings have been years without her mother and just recently will now be without her father; the wife waking up for her first holiday morning without her husband of over twenty-five years; the woman who lost the anticipation and excitement of her baby’s first Thanksgiving in a miscarriage; a family welcoming a precious new healthy baby but losing the young, beautiful first-time mother. One can’t help but grieve with these who are hurting.

Grief has been known in my family. We’re familiar with the breath it takes out of you, the way it changes you, how it can overwhelm you and make your body feel physically ill. And we know that it never completely goes away. Every birthday, date of death, every milestone moment, and yes, this time of year, each holiday celebrated accompanied with traces of grief.

Someone is missing. How unnatural it feels to keep living life when life no longer feels like the life we knew. How bewildering it is seeing people go about their daily business, not even aware that someone so special, and so significant, is no longer on this earth. How empty it feels sitting down to a table with all our family, except our loved one lost.

After loss, I picture grief taking up a large part of our heart. Through healing, the element of grief becomes smaller and smaller, yet remains. Why?

The Lord uses the sorrow in my heart to believe for His healing, His joy, and His peace for others. These losses grieve me so deeply because I know how I’ve grieved for those I’ve lost. It’s so painful. It hurts. It’s dark. However, my losses fuel my intercession for others who mourn. Romans 12:15 ESV says it’s one of the marks of a true Christian, “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.”

How has my family been able to be thankful in, through and after tragedy?

It’s difficult to praise God when so much is wrong. It’s a challenge to worship with a heavy hurting heart. However, praise, worship and thanksgiving are vital to healing.

Think about Paul and Silas sitting in prison. What did they do? They began to sing. Sorrow can feel like a prison. The release comes through the worship. Worship shakes the foundation to our grief, doors are swung open and bonds are unfastened. (See Acts 16:25-26).

Worshipping the Lord in our grief is a sacrifice. God honors the sacrifice of worship. Worshipping not because we feel like it, but worshipping because He is worthy. I remember being in church two days after my Dad’s funeral. Imagining his casket at the front of the sanctuary was hindering my worship. I was so grieved. But then we began to sing “Blessed Be Your Name.” Yes, there was pain in the offering, but that is authentic worship. Hebrews 13:15 ESV “Through Him then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge His name.”

The act of sacrificing thank offerings to God—even for the bread and cup of cost, for cancer and crucifixion –this prepares the way for God to show us His fullest salvation from bitter, angry, resentful lives and from all sin that estranges us from Him. – One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp

Thankfulness doesn’t negate our grief. Thankfulness brings joy in the grief. How? Thankfulness brings us closer to God and as we are closer to Him we receive of His glorious riches. His light, His love, His joy, His peace.  This isn’t denial. This isn’t fairytale, make-believe. This isn’t lying to ourselves. This is walking, not in the natural tendency of our nature, but in His supernatural power to transform our hearts in His presence. Habakkuk 3:17-18 ““Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.”

Rejecting joy to stand in solidarity with the suffering doesn’t rescue the suffering. The converse does. The brave who focus on all things good and all things beautiful and all things true, even in the small, who give thanks for it and discover joy even in the here and now, they are the change agents who bring fullest of Light to all the world. When we lay the soil of our hard lives open to the rain of grace and let joy penetrate our cracked and dry places, let joy soak into our broken skin and deep crevices, life grows. – One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp

I pray for you, sweet readers to be the “change agents.” Our place is not in this world. Our place is destined to be with the Father. In the imperfections of this life we live, I pray for your heart of Thanksgiving to transcend every trial, displaying the light of His glory through your joy.

Much love.

Much sympathy.

Much hope.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Visit the link for the song: Blessed Be Your Name by Matt Redman http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTpTQ4kBLxA

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTpTQ4kBLxA

*If you are waking this day with pain and loss, I invite you to read this touching post my friend shared. https://abedformyheart.com/grateful-and-grieving/ *

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Crummy Mom

We had barely departed the experience, the fruition of obedience to God’s calling, when the clouds started rolling, the thunder started rumbling, the lightning hit and the rain poured. Our drive into Boston should have been one of elation and rejoicing, however, we quickly ran into a storm, a storm that started brewing long before we began our trip. No, I’m not speaking of a literal storm. I’m speaking figuratively. I wish we could have pulled under a bridge and wait for it to pass by. I wish we could have stepped into a closet and hid from the winds. Or even better, I wish we could have locked ourselves in our safe room and shut it out entirely. But we all know the storms of life are endured, not avoided. I read several years ago that trees send their roots down deeper due to the storms they withstand. No storms mean a shallow root system. Now I’m no arborist, but I get the illustration, and I don’t want to be shallow or weak, I want to go down deep and be strong. Nevertheless, the storms are unpleasant, unpeaceful, and at times, down right scary.

The storm’s intensity grew when I broke, exposing the darkness that surrounded us. I felt safe, I felt secure, and even more than that, I felt desperate for help. I literally broke, crying uncontrollably and sharing not only my defeat, but pronouncing my shortcomings.

For someone who lives as an open book, it’s imprisoning to hold in my burdens, to retain my brokenness. Burying and hiding are not natural for me. It takes effort. It takes determination. And while I see that sometimes it is necessary, it feels phony. We need a safety net when we are falling. Unfortunately, with the people I would have not wanted to have boundaries with, I should have had boundaries. The integrity and character of our home came under fire. And isn’t that the way the enemy attacks? So sly and creepy, using one attack to generate another.

The point is, if we lay everything out on the table, we’re providing the revelation of our failures. We all have them, and we provide for many more failures when we become parents. If you haven’t failed your children yet, wait, because you will.

You’re probably thinking something like, “Great. So glad I’m reading this today. Nothing like having someone tell me I’m going to fail at the most important role I will ever have!” Or you may be tempted to minimize those failures as you reflect back on your days of raising children. Pause with me please, and join me in asking the Lord to humble us and remove a pride He cannot honor.

Let’s remind ourselves that we all fall short. We are parenting in our humanity. And our humanity is fallen.   John and Stasi Eldredge inform us in their book Captivating, “But Adam fell, as did Eve, and the fathers and mothers most of us had continued the sad story. They did not provide the things our hearts needed in order to become lovely, vulnerable, strong, adventurous women.”

Honestly, it’s a thought that never crossed my mind when I was welcoming my precious children into the world. “I’m going to fail this perfect little person. I’m going to wound their heart.”

I was prepared to give away my heart, but not to wound theirs. Big chunks were removed with every baby born. Jaron’s birth brought about our first NICU experience. The team whisked him away from me on the eve of Christmas Eve. I was discharged the next day and felt my heart in two places, neither of which was inside my chest. I was torn to be home with my sweet little girl and to be with my new precious and sick baby boy. It was just the beginning, just the beginning of my heart existing outside my body no longer secure and protected within myself.

“You cannot be alive very long without being wounded,” the Eldredges write. “Broken hearts cannot long be avoided in this beautiful yet dangerous world we live in.” “This is not Eden. Not even close. We are not living in the world our souls were made for.”

As I was caring for my own Mom recovering from an orthopedic surgery this summer, I gave her medication to manage her pain. Some are big pills, hard to swallow. And some of these words are hard to swallow, but can manage the pain of our wounded hearts. Through her own journey, Stasi Eldredge writes, “Yes, she [her mother] failed me. All mothers fail their children to varying degrees. But she also loved me. That was what was most true.”

Every wave and bump, even the wash outs and pot holes, messages are sent, imperfections are highlighted and wounds are created. We hurt our children and our children hurt us. Ephesians 6:12 tells us where the battle comes from, “For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.”

And as mothers, we battle. In our flesh, in our humanity, in our fallen, imperfect state, we battle.

“Women are called to join in the Greatest Battle of all time- the battle being waged for the hearts of those around us.” -Captivated

As long as I’m breathing I will go to battle for my children to have God’s best in their life. It is raw, it is real, and it is humbling to recognize our imperfections, and to encourage our children to take what we’ve given them as parents and to be better, to make improvements and be better parents for their children. No blame, no bitterness, but better. Humbling ourselves in believing and battling for God’s best.

So why would I write a post to share about being a crummy mom? Because at times, you feel crummy too. In those times, in those dark moments, and in those attacks, don’t allow the enemy to defeat you, even if he’s using people you love in the attack. Filter through. Sift it out before the Lord. Only He truly knows your heart.

I’m walking in steps of obedience to God’s calling. There is no attack that could possibly stop me than one upon my family, one upon my home. So here it is. The storm. Here I am. Not giving up. Battling the attack, because I know God will prevail. His Plan will succeed. Good will come, a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up (Galatians 6:9).

Through this storm I praise Him and I pray He uses it to encourage you.

“But we don’t wait to offer our lives until we have our acts together. We don’t get that luxury. If we did, would anyone ever feel like offering anything? God asks us to be vulnerable. He invites us to share and give in our weaknesses. He wants us to offer the beauty that He has given us even when we are keenly aware that it is not all that we wish it were. He wants us to trust him.”- Captivating

Psalm 34:5

Those who look to Him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed.

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We’re having a GIVE AWAY for Subscribers— Love Does by Bob Goff will go to the subscriber’s name drawn on October 1st

Have you ever struggled with the feeling of not being good enough?  Has someone taken a highlighter to your shortcomings or magnified your failures?

God's design for women includes a longing for intimacy and adventure with Him, to gain an understanding of how He sees each of us, and to develop a closer relationship with Him.

Please join me, along with the women of my community as we rediscover the joy of belonging to God with a heart that is awakened and restored… a heart in full bloom.

Throughout the weekend you will experience teaching sessions, including testimonies, films, guided periods of personal reflection and worship.

This weekend is based on the book Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge

My Dads

Have you ever thought about how many scriptures mention “Father.”  Well, I have.  So I thought I’d just check it out on www.biblegateway.com.  Evidently, in the New International Version, “Father” is mentioned 1,103 times. “Heavenly Father” 8 times. During the months of June, July and August I have such frequent reflections of my Dad.  In June we take an entire day to honor our fathers.  Although he’s not with me anymore, I offer deep gratitude to the Lord for giving me a father who was a hard worker, generous, and boisterous in personality.

Three days ago, on July 6^th we would have celebrated my Dad’s 70^th birthday.  My Mom and I spoke about what a grand party we would have thrown.  Invitations would have been sent, decorations purchased and food prepared.  And my Dad would have loved it because he loved being around people.  People energized him, a characteristic he and my Mom shared, and one I identify in myself.

August marks the anniversary of his passing.  How gracious the Lord was to take my Dad so quickly.  We continually find comfort in 2 Corinthians 5:8, which says, “We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord” (NIV).  We believe the moment my Dad left his earthly body he was in the Lord’s presence.  But while my Dad’s earthly body remain in his office chair, awaiting the arrival of the sheriff, there was a man who sat with my Dad.  That man loved my Dad.  That man was my father-in-law.

On the heels of a significant loss only what is gone is felt.  The ache, pain and emptiness does not allow for the possibilities of what can be. Transitioning to a life without our loved one is so difficult.  The phone rings and it feels like it’s them.   Them walking through the door any moment is anticipated.  Reminders of their life surrounds; their clothes, their vehicle, watches and shoes, as if they’re just on vacation.  In fact, I had numerous dreams exactly along those lines.  But the beautiful thing about time is, as it passes, life continues to change and the Lord helps us to treasure what we do have instead of focus on what we don’t.

And what I have is a father-in-law who never fails to hug me “hello” and “goodbye.”  This man whom I have known for over seventeen years, and whom I have known would never be considered a hugger, is unhesitant in giving affection as my Dad always did.  He has been the most amazing Pawpaw to my kids; tea parties with my daughter, wrestling matches with my boys.  If our family had a fan club, he’d be in it, setting in the audience at recitals and the bleachers at games.  He has been one of my biggest supporters, helping with the kids when I was in nursing school; whether it was sports related or school related he was there to help whenever we called.  And when it comes to my marriage to his son, he speaks life and promotes unity. In fact, only just a few weeks ago, he came in the middle of the day to take us to the airport for our anniversary getaway.

You see, I felt a sense of abandonment when my Dad passed.  Not in the sense of rejection as many children unfairly experience, but just a feeling of being lost.  This person, who had been there my whole life, who was half of my existence, who always seemed to have answers and a plan, was gone.  Although I was married with a child and a baby, I still had security in my Dad.  And I suppose I experienced vulnerability in a way I had never anticipated.  And I confronted my identity in a way I had never been challenged before.

The Lord blessed me with strength and security, an unexplainable peace, an excitement for the future and gratitude for the present.

And my father-in-law is present in and a gift to my life.  He is the mentor relationship.  He gives those words of wisdom.  He is the encourager and affirmer.  He is interceding on our behalf.  He is the parent we adult children still long for.

Father is mentioned over one thousand times in scripture.  What an important and honorary role for a man, the opportunity to be a reflection of our Heavenly Father.

My life is blessed, because I’ve had two!

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