Farewell....for now.

As I look back over the past year--and all the pain and heartache, interwoven with joy and numerous blessings, that came with it--I cannot pretend to understand this story God has been weaving in my life. There are so many things that don't make sense to me...and yet I know that God continues to reap blossoms of growth and new life from my bleeding heart.

After all this past year has held, I would be lying if I said I am free of apprehension as I look toward 2012. However, I know that nothing--neither life nor death, sickness nor the best of health, neither friendship nor relationships lost, poverty nor a bounty of blessings--NOTHING can move me from the hand of God. It is in this confidence that I move into 2012.

I have been asking God what He has for me this next year, and although He has not given me the road map of 2012 {I'd rather Him keep it anyway}, I have heard His still, small voice stirring in the deep places of my heart:

Be still and know that I am God.
You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.

I ask, "God, what do you want from me in the next 12 months?"

He says, I want you to listen.

This world needs more people who are willing to listen to the heart of God. And although I am no master of this discipline (I am rather quite the novice), I want so desperately to hear. It is for this reason I am taking a year off from blogging. No, this is not a New Year's resolution...this is the result of much prayer and will be a daily choice to spend in different ways the time God so graciously gives me.

I don't know that I ever would choose to leave this writing place for any lesser task or calling, and I do sincerely believe that I will be back...for surely it was God who gave me this love of writing! I will most certainly miss this empty screen filling with my heart, although I want you to know that I will look forward to keeping up, periodically, with the writing and lives of those of you whose words have touched my life.

Please take the time today to reflect upon all that God has done for you in the past year...and how He might lead you in 2012.

Much love, friends, and Happy New Year!

Christmas...the birth of peace

From Luke 2:
⁸ And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. ⁹ An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. ¹⁰ But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. ¹¹ Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. ¹² This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” ¹³ Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,¹⁴ “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

Glory to God and on earth...peace. The end of hostility between man and God. Freedom from strife. Peace.

I hear that word--peace--and I wonder. Where? How? How, when people cease living and choose dying? How, when money squeezes tight and families fall apart? How, when children cry alone at night, without family, without hope? Peace? ...how?

And yet that's why Jesus came, right? For peace. For reunification between God and mankind.

Once again, as the remembrance of that birth draws near, I sit still and listen. I sit with the shepherds in that long-ago field and cry out with the angels, "Glory to God!" And I whisper with desperation, "Please, God! Bring your peace!" Bring peace to this broken world.

"For unto us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace" (Isaiah 9:6).

Even as I sit, I hear His gentle whisper in response: "Seek peace and pursue it" (Psalm 34:14).

He is here. He is among us...God incarnate. The Prince of Peace. I wonder, "Where is peace?" And he answers:
I am here.

THAT, my friends, is good news.

This Christmas, I am crying for a deeper longing to seek and pursue the Prince of Peace...to facilitate the collision of this world's brokenness with the very heart of God.

Wishing you a very joyful celebration of the Lord's birth...And may you find yourself seeking and pursuing the Prince of Peace this Christmas season.

PLEASE help my friends

Please, please take one minute out of your day to help my friends. They are in the process of adopting their 3-year-old daughter, who has been with them pretty much since her birth, from Kenya, but the process is taking longer than expected. Eden's mom had to come back to the States for the birth of their 3rd child, while Eden is still in Kenya with her dad. They just want to be reunited for Christmas and the birth of her little sister! Below is a note of explanation from Eden's grandma, and the link to a petition for Eden's cause. Please take a minute to sign it...it literally just takes a minute! Thank you so much!

Please, please, PLEASE take 3 minutes out of your day to sign this petition. As many of you know, my beautiful granddaughter, Eden, is in the process of being adopted from Kenya. The process is taking far longer than it should; and Eden is now separated from her brother, A*, and her mother (my daughter, M*, who is now in the US preparing to give birth to their 3rd child in January) while staying in Kenya with her dad, B*. The stress of the separation is tough for the whole family, but especially for 3 year-old Eden. PLEASE POST THIS LINK AS YOUR STATUS TO HELP BRING HER BACK BY CHRISTMAS. If you have any contacts that you think could help Eden's cause please let me know. Thank you

http://www.change.org/petitions/us-citizenship-and-immigration-service-uscis-expedited-humanitarian-parole-for-baby-eden-bring-her-home-by-christmas

People-Pleasing 101

First, take inventory of all the people in your life that you want to please.

Then spend hours and hours trying to figure out how you can make them like you better.

Above all else, make sure you NEVER make a mistake...and if you do, do not, I said do NOT let anyone else know that you messed up.

If someone criticizes you or points out a fault, wallow in self-pity for days and days and let that criticism inform your view of yourself.

Spend time with people who like you and avoid people who are less drawn to your people-pleasing tactics.

Remember, who you are is what others say you are.

If you follow these principles, you will be well on your way to pleasing all the people in your life.

Yikes. All that may sound crazy, but I'm sure I have done each of those things at least once in my life. For so many years my opinion of myself was directly related to what others thought of me or how I perceived others to think of me. I am still prone to this type of thinking at times, but I do pray that God continues to strip me of my people-pleasing tendencies. I heard a quote on the radio today that made me stop in my tracks: "It is wrong to give anyone the power to make us through their affirmation or break us through their rejection."

I don't know how many times I have allowed myself to be broken through the rejection or criticism of others, even if it was administered with all the love in the world. Rather than taking the comments before God and asking Him how He wants to change me, I simply turn in on myself in self-pity. I want to be so confident in my identity as a beloved child of God that no human being has the power to make me through their affirmation or break me through their rejection.

I must say, though, this people-pleasing girl is most definitely a work in progress.

A Different Kind of Orphan

Tomorrow is orphan Sunday. I have a huge heart for the orphan, and I am excited to see how God may one day use that passion to His glory in serving these kids He loves so much. I want to use this post, however, to talk about a different kind of orphan.

I hear the statistics all over...There are 163 million orphans in the world today, depending on where you do your research. I admit it...When I hear this, my mind immediately goes to pictures of kids with swollen bellies in Africa, kids who are obviously in desperate need of medical attention and the love of a family. However, just yesterday God opened my mind to something.

If you do the research, you may discover that roughly 13% of the 163 million have lost both parents. So, what about the other 87%, you say? Well, the other 145 million are missing one parent.

77% of the 163 million are missing a dad.

Wow.
That's 126 million kids, worldwide, without a dad.
Wow.

You know what blew my mind even more? On July 31, 2009, my little brother became part of that statistic.

I don't want you to think that, by including my brother in this number, I am discounting the terrible, horrible circumstances facing millions of children around the world who are suffering ALONE tonight. My brother is loved and cared for, has a warm bed to sleep in tonight and a full belly...while many kids are starving to death and dying from preventable diseases--with NO ONE to hold them or kiss their foreheads. There is a desperate need for people to adopt, foster, and sponsor children around the world...children who are missing one or both parents and enduring conditions not even conducive to life. Tonight, I pray that you will think about these needs and what you can do to alleviate them in some way. {If you want to know how, shoot me an email and I will gladly suggest some ways to get involved.} However, I also want you to think about something else.

Many of you may look at the daunting reality--163 million orphans--and think, "What could I possibly do to change that number???" I often wonder myself. For those of you who easily find yourselves overwhelmed when you think about the possibility of adoption, foster care, or even child sponsorship, I want to remind you that you do not have to look very far to find a fatherless child. They are all around us. They are in our churches, in the same schools as our children, in the homes next to us and just down the street...they are all around us. Maybe you think international adoption is out of reach for you and your family. The fatherless are not.

Not a day goes by that I don't long for my brother to be pursued by a godly man who will willingly invest his time in the life of a now-fatherless kid. And my brother had the best dad known to man...for 13 years of his life. There are millions of other kids around the world who have gone much longer without a dad in the picture.

Maybe you feel like you cannot adopt, foster, or even sponsor a child. Can you find the time to invest, even in some small way, in the life of a fatherless kid? Even by taking the time to call, to ask how the child's day was? Even by attending one of the child's sporting events so he or she has someone to cheer from the stands? Even by writing a card, sharing an encouraging Bible verse? Can you commit to faithfully pray for a fatherless child?

You don't have to spend thousands of dollars on an adoption in order to care for the orphan. You don't have to take hours and hours of training to become a foster parent in order to care for the orphan. You don't have to travel around the world on a mission trip in order to care for the orphan. All of these things are good, and maybe you should ask God if He wants you to do one or all of them. BUT. The fatherless are right before you, and their needs are not necessarily complex.

They want to know that someone cares.
They want someone to ask how school is going.
They want someone to shoot hoops with them after school.
They want someone to offer to help with their homework.
They want someone to give them a big hug, the kind that only a dad can give.
They want someone to take them out to dinner, just because.
Really, they just want to know that someone cares.
Can you care?

Tonight, I want you to think about these words in a different light:
"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: To look after orphans and widows in their distress {yes, even and especially the ones who go to your church and live next door and attend your schools} and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world" (James 1:27).

Choosing Thankfulness

Because I sometimes (believe it or not) struggle to find something to say, and because I need reminders of God's faithfulness so desperately right now, I was flipping through old posts recently. Two years ago this month, I posted these words written by my dad. He was in the thick of treatment for pancreatic cancer when he wrote them in February of 2009. And yet he was joyfully thankful.

“Nothing that happens to the follower of Christ, to those of us who with great joy call Him Lord, takes our Savior by surprise. His brilliant and awesome foreknowledge allows Him to know every detail well in advance. That is the stuff of thanksgiving, even in the midst of pancreatic cancer…God has asked His servants to be thankful in all circumstances. Sincere obedience is often carried out in the absence of happy, joyful feelings…but He is in control, and He can take something like pancreatic cancer and use it to accomplish great eternal good…Yes, we can give thanks for pancreatic cancer because of all this and for so many other blessings that He has poured out on us…”

Yikes, I needed these words. Like a smack upside the head. The reason I can be thankful tonight is because God sent His son Jesus to die in my place, to cover my eternal destiny. Therefore, nothing takes my Savior by surprise. Every mountaintop, valley, and pit...He knew them all well in advance. And He asks me to be thankful here. And yet here I am complaining too often, when he asked my dad to be thankful for a brutal diagnosis. For pain and suffering. For death. In the midst of my ick, I am so blessed. I am not withering away from a terrible sickness...even though I often whine like I am. Lord, give me your perspective and the thankful heart that is born out of a heavenly perspective...

Soaking in TRUTH...

I am allowing these words to pour over me...

to change me...

to bring peace and rest to my heart...

and to remind me of His love.

Even in a broken, shattered world.

Remind me of your truth, Lord. Capture my heart once again.

The Grief Onion: Getting real

I hugged him tight in a mummy-hold, speaking the words over and over: "It's okay. It's okay. All done! No more hurts." Who knows if any of my meant-to-be-reassuring words actually made it into his head and heart, between my {very} broken Spanish and his incredibly limited English. I do know that he looked up into my eyes with crocodile tears running down his cheeks. As my school clinical day came to an end, I could almost read his thoughts. It's okay? It's NOT okay! It's all done? How do I KNOW it's all done, when you just scooped me up in your lap like we were gonna be the best of friends, then stabbed my finger with a needle? THAT'S not okay!

***What I'm about to share is not meant to elicit pity or even words of advice. I share it to be transparent in a grief journey that is long, rocky, and layered. I share it to encourage and walk alongside those also experiencing grief over the loss of a loved one, whether that loss is recent or years ago.***

I feel like that little guy I wrapped tightly in my arms. I hear Jesus whispering into my broken and battered heart, "Trust me, child...I've got you. It's okay." Meanwhile, my heart screams back, "It's okay?!? It's NOT okay! You've got me?! Well, where were you THEN?" I realized recently that I have never fully allowed myself to be real with God about the pain and hurt I have experienced over losing my dad...Feelings I may even describe as anger and a corroding mistrust in Him. I know it's not healthy to stay in that place. I also know it is not healthy to bury those feelings without ever carrying them to the cross. I have to admit, both to myself AND to God, that I am ANGRY.

It's not FAIR that my little brother doesn't have his dad in the stands at his soccer games, cheering for him and yelling at the refs like all the other dads. It's not FAIR that all my friends will have their dads walk them down the aisle at their weddings, while my sisters and I will walk alone. It's not FAIR that my mom, by no choice of her own, has become a single parent. It's not FAIR that I rarely get through a day without thinking about death or cancer. It's not FAIR that I have forever imprinted memories of my daddy, my knight-in-shining-armor, gasping for breath and slowly losing control over all bodily functions in the last days of his life. It's not fair that my dreams were shattered in one day, with one phone call. It's not FAIR that I am doubly broken and hurt with every new relationship loss and change, simply because I am reminded, once again, that everything on this earth is temporary...especially relationships with the people I have allowed myself to love. It's not FAIR, and there is a part of me, deep inside, that wants to know how God could have thought this was a good plan.

In my opinion, grief is like an onion--layer upon layer must be peeled back and revealed. I'm on the "get-real-with-God" layer. {It's only taken me 2+ years to get there.} Just as I had to hold and rock and whisper comfort into that little boy's heart in order to earn back his trust, I am praying that, as I deal with this layer of the "grief onion," God simply holds me in His arms and reminds me of His forever and unconditional faithfulness. I'm ready to find a new level of wholeness in my relationship with Him as I learn to trust, once again, in His perfect sovereignty.

And for the person reading this who is feeling the same way--Wherever you may be, I am praying the same thing for you. Find healing at the foot of the cross...where Jesus invites us to dump ALL our baggage.

I'm in the desert...

source

...and it's hot here. Vast. Expansive. And waterless.

I'm thirsty, and I have a water bottle sitting right next to me...full. But I can't open it. I'm too tired; my brain is too fuzzy to understand how to twist, twist, twist the cap until it slides off.

So I just sit, waiting for the desert to go away.
******
Do you ever feel that way? Like you are in a spiritual desert, like the water you need so desperately is sitting right at your fingertips, but you physically and emotionally CANNOT bring it to your lips? I do.

I've learned that the desert is a season {often a long one}, and that God will sometimes lead us there Himself. Because it's only when I'm thirsty, tired, delirious, and at the end of myself that I will start crying. I'll hand Him the water bottle and let Him open it. After resisting for so long, I'll finally let Him scoop me up and cradle me in His arms. And for once, I will be His little girl, not the I've-got-this-thank-you Queen.

We don't like to admit when we are out of water.

But I am.

I'm weary from a long season of pain and heartache that I am just beginning to crawl out of. With the change of color on the trees all around me, and with the gloriously healing changes going on right now in my life, I am reminded on a daily basis that my God makes all things new. Tonight, as I fall limp into His arms, as I guzzle down the crisp water He offers, I will choose rest.

“Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. There she will respond as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt" (Hosea 2:14-15).

Broken relationship: the lie I often believe

"But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed" (Luke 5:16).

He went away...away from the crowds and the people and the sickness and the needs. Away.

I am reminded of how often I stay. I pretend to be strong, to be the ever-faithful servant, while all the while suffering under the weight of it all. For reasons deeply embedded in my personality and past, I am too stubborn to do the harder thing, to confront the hurt and pain that festers deep, to withdraw to lonely places and pray. So often in Christian circles we talk about dying to self, of letting go of more and more of our wants and desires as we seek to love Him and His people more. I am learning, though, that not all self-denial is healthy. Even Jesus withdrew. Even I need to take care of myself.

I remember patients I have seen, patients with painful ulcers that tunnel deep under the skin. When the ulcers are left untreated, when the pressure of sitting or laying in one position is not relieved, the ulcers only burrow deeper and damage more layers of tissue.

I hate confrontation. I'm learning, though, that sometimes it is oh-so-necessary. When it doesn't happen, when problems lay unaddressed, wounds burrow. These problems get worse and worse, until the damage is irreparable. Avoiding the excruciating pain of debriding and lancing a wound may seem more pleasant in the moment, but the longer this necessary treatment is avoided, the longer the wound will fester and the more painful treatment will become.

To be utterly honest and transparent, there are days when I hate relationships. I not only want to "withdraw to lonely places to pray," I want to run away. I want to put my heart in a dungeon and never let anyone in; I want to lock the cell and throw the key away. The pain is just too much...and no matter how hard you try to avoid hurting someone or being hurt, inevitably it comes, often unannounced. There is a voice, deep inside, that whispers, "It's just easier if you go it alone. See? If only you had NEVER initiated that friendship, or entered that relationship, NONE of this would have happened. If only you hadn't invested so much of yourself, you might have had something left after the dust settled." I know it is all a lie from Satan, but there are days when it seems all too true...

Today, I am trying to learn the balance. I am remembering that, just as Jesus withdrew, I need the peace and restoration that can only be found in the deep and quiet places of communion with the One who will never leave, who will never forsake or let down. And while relationship seems too painful right now, I was not made to survive without it.

Finding peace and rest in CHANGE

"Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness" (Lamentations 3:22-23).

Whispers of change swirl around us, promising death and new life ironically coupled in the dance of seasonal transformation. I find it interesting that fall is my favorite season because in every way possible I resist change.

I let weeds fester, afraid to cut down what has been for so long. In His gracious kindness, God
saves me from my own stubborn fear.

He brings peace to the mess, burying it under the icy death of snow. Soon, new life will replace what was lost and wilted.


For the past two weeks, I have been on a blessed time of sabbatical rest. I pray you make the sacrifice to do the same. Newness of life cannot be found beneath the tangled mess of busyness. I have slept {more than usual}. I have laughed {harder than before}. I have regained hope {for a future uncertain}. I have rescued courage {necessary to face the trials of this life}. I have savored time with family {praise God for His many blessings through the ones who love me}. I have been silly with friends {evidence below. And no, the baby--both, in fact--are not real. We were playing a game with my former youth group.}

As I have enjoyed soul-deep rest, I find myself humming along to the age-old hymn {with words that will forever ring true}:

Great is Thy faithfulness, oh God my Father;
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not;
As Thou hast been, Thou forever wilt be.

Summer and winter and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above
Join with all nature in manifold witness
to Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.


Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

Today, may you find rest and peace in His forever faithfulness.

***Speaking of wonderful blessings, all of these photos were captured at my childhood home. What a beautiful piece of God's creation!***

My scraps...His quilt

Today, as I was sorting through my *measly but somehow incredibly cluttered* possessions, I stumbled upon an old journal of mine. Well, actually I stumbled upon several old journals. See, I am one of those people who will buy a new journal just so I can have the "experience" of a fresh start. You know what I'm talking about. The first time you crack open that blank book...take in the "new" smell {all you book lovers out there are nodding your heads in agreement right now}....you find yourself wanting to say AHHHHH. Problem is, that feeling wears off after a couple weeks, and the no-longer-new journal finds itself on a shelf or in a drawer somewhere. And suddenly, my "fresh start" becomes just another blurp in a seemingly disconnected and random life journey.

Do you ever feel like your life story is no more than a blank book with lots of random notes and letters and pages stuffed in it? Like there is no peace, no overarching theme or unity to its contents? I must admit there are days when I wonder, days when I ask God questions like, "What the heck were you doing there?" or "Where does this leave me now?" Sometimes all I can do is look at the mess of chicken scratches scattered between books and journals and post-it notes and say, "God, I don't understand."

Today, God gave me a window. You see, there is something about weaving a story, about finding bits and pieces of it scattered in this book and on that shelf, then working to sew it all back together...there's just something about the process that is not only exciting, but also healing.

Not long before my dad died, God strengthened me for the hard road ahead in ways I did not anticipate or even see at the time. As I read the words I scribbled in a journal days before and after my daddy went to be with Jesus, I find bright hope for my tomorrow...because I am once again reminded of His faithfulness, a never-ending, always-overflowing gift of grace. And though I often find myself in a metaphorical pile of life scraps, not sure how to piece them together...well, today a thread was woven, sewing pieces of my story--of GOD'S story for my life--back together. And though I don't always know how they will fit in the end, I do know that He is good...and everything will somehow, through His handiwork, piece together into the most beautiful life quilt.

Restless

Do you ever just feel restless? As I grow to know Jesus more and more each day, I better understand this restlessness in me. It used to be a squirming, an uncomfortable longing for something I couldn't even name. It turned into a desire for the beauty, peace, and comfort that always seemed just out of reach. It became a longing for the perfection of a day in heaven, sitting next to my dad and feeling fully satisfied.

I am still restless. I am still "running hard for the other side, the world I've always been denied." There are days when I drive down the road, burdened by emotions and feelings I can't even sort out or explain. I am still trying desperately to find His face in everything, in the mundane, in the joys and aches of everyday living.

Lately, I find this song resounding with my heart. I understand now that, through this restlessness, I am looking for Him...trying to make sense out of this crazy world and the crazy world that is inside of me. On the days when I feel scrambled inside--restless--I pray that He draws me closer to Himself. I pray that, through the incompleteness (or pain, brokenness, heartache...you fill in the blank) of this life, I am reminded of the greater story He is writing, a story that will one day answer this restlessness with everlasting PEACE. Until then, I will always be looking for Him...in the tears, in the monotonous tasks of daily living, in the moments of sipping coffee with dear friends, in the longing for renewed relationship.

Are you looking for Him too?

Prayer request update

A couple of weeks ago I wrote asking for prayer for my cousin J*. I wanted to write a quick update, sharing to the best of my knowledge what is going on, and ask you to continue to pray for him and his family. If you read my previous post, you knew that J* was having a biopsy done on a mass of tissue found in his esophagus. Well, they did the biopsy and it came back inconclusive. Yes, inconclusive. So, J* is scheduled to meet with a doctor at the beginning of September to discuss next steps. Please be praying that God would give them and the doctors wisdom to know what to do next. And please be praying for his comfort...from what I have been told, he has not been feeling too great the past several weeks. He and his lovely wife, M*, have 3 precious kids. Please, please keep them all in your prayers. Thank you, friends!

Believing relentlessly

Source

After sharing with you what God has laid on my heart regarding foster care, I also have to share with you that my first instinct as I start to look down that road is to start making lists of everything I need to read and research, everything I need to DO. If only it were that easy. And while all that is not necessarily bad, God is revealing to me that it should never be first.

I have been reading through the book Relentless Hope, by Beth Guckenberger, and last night I had a chance to finish it over a cup of coffee. I had such a sweet time of prayer and reflection, and I really felt like God taught me a lot in the hour that I spent sitting outside in the dark with Him.

God has begun to give me a vision for the ministry He has laid on my heart, speaking to me through His Word and some of Beth's writing. Beth writes the following in Relentless Hope:
"Relentless hope has a fierceness about it, but it shouldn't be mistaken for ruthlessness or inconsiderateness. The fierceness represents the seriousness with which we face our opposition in this world. It's a fierce way of praying, a fierce way we stare down the lion circling the prey, or a fierce entrance into a fiery furnace. A kind of standing-your-ground that refreshingly isn't dependent on the latest polls, the opinions of others, or even a track record. It is instead a fierce hope in the One who has already accomplished all that is needed to bring peace and grace into a chaotic world and a confidence we are on the right team."

Friends, I am not a parent. I have certainly watched a lot of parents raise their children. I have cared for a lot of children. But I myself have never parented. It is easy to become overwhelmed with the thought of jumping into the parenting journey with children from "hard places," but God began to whisper to my heart last night that I need to grow in my confidence that I am on the right team...His team. And more important than any "correct parenting style", I need to be willing to fight for these precious kids with a relentless hope...to believe against all odds that they can find healing and peace in the midst of their chaotic worlds through Christ Jesus alone.

Beth interviewed a man facing considerable grief over many different losses, and he shared the following with her, recounted in her book: "The most helpful people to me are those who are willing to count the cost of stepping into the experience of someone in deep pain and who allow themselves to offer what truly matters in that moment--a heart willing to share the pain." God brought this question to my heart: Am I willing to the count the cost, to step down into the muddy pit of pain that so many of these kids face? Am I willing to offer them my heart, to share in their pain? I can learn thousands of parenting techniques, but Jesus is the only one who can capture and transform broken hearts. Am I willing to carry these kids to Him? No matter how broken their little hearts are? Am I willing to stick with them through the valleys and the mountains, to hold onto relentless hope for them and with them?

As I have already begun to pray for these kids, God has given me the vision, the calling, to be a part of "extracting the precious from the worthless" in the lives of these kids. The following Scripture passage (from Jeremiah 15) has become my plea, my prayer, and my mission:

¹⁸ Why has my pain been perpetual
And my wound incurable, refusing to be healed?
Will You indeed be to me like a deceptive stream with water that is unreliable?
¹⁹ Therefore, thus says the LORD,
“If you return, then I will restore you—
Before Me you will stand;
And if you extract the precious from the worthless, You will become My spokesman...
²⁰ “Then I will make you to this people
A fortified wall of bronze...
For I am with you to save you
And deliver you,” declares the LORD.

I am praying that God empowers me to extract the precious from the worthless...to see the beautiful things that God wants to plant in the mud, to believe in His redemption for these kids and to cling to it with relentless hope.

I will still read parenting books, I'm sure. I will still make lists and I will still research. But through it all, I will pray. I will whisper these words over and over again:
"Show me the right path, Oh Lord. Point out the road for me to follow" (Psalm 25:4).

And more than anything, I will believe that He makes beautiful things...no matter the mess we give Him to work with.

When God calls you to something "crazy"

I don't like to throw the word "calling" around very often because, well, I think it's misused frequently. For example, we justify what WE want to do by saying that "God called us to do it." But I can't explain what I am about to share with you without using this word, because there really is no other way to explain it.

When I was a sophomore in high school, a little girl in my community was murdered by the very people who were supposed to love and protect her. From that moment on, my heart toward the hurting child was claimed. In the time since then, God has repeatedly exposed me to this area of ministry...often through funny, unorthodox ways. Before little A*'s story made it onto the front page of our local newspaper, I never once gave a thought to foster care. I never thought I could handle it. Ever since that day, though, when I first read little A*'s story, there really has never been a question in my mind. God has fashioned my heart for the purpose of loving His little ones. I don't say this lightly, and I am not just throwing this word around...but God has CALLED me to this.

I just had the most amazing 3 hour conversation with a friend who has sacrificed so much for the sake of this "crazy" call to be a foster parent. Being with her, hearing her heart and sharing mine with her...brought me so much joy, and just reaffirmed what God has already been putting before me.

I have one year left in school. I am not married, not even seriously dating anyone. I have no idea where I am going to live or work after I finish school. But I do know that God has made my heart to do this. I know that people will disagree with the path my life takes, that I will be questioned and misunderstood and even called "crazy." And while I can't say that it won't be hard, I am more than excited to begin to walk down this road with God's help. After all, don't we read account after account of God leading His people to do "crazy" things? From Noah, to David, to Paul...the Bible is full of such "crazy" stories, lives transformed by faith.

Please pray for me, friends. That my faith would grow, that God would give me His heart for these kids, that He would guide me in the next several months as I start to consider what this is going to look like. And never say never...God likes to prove us wrong ; )

Thankful

God has made everything beautiful for its own time.

He has planted eternity in the human heart...

but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God's work from beginning to end.

Ecclesiastes 3:11

Today, I am choosing to be thankful. I am choosing to be thankful for His grace, His guiding hand as I face the future, for His unconditional love. I am thankful that He is still at work in my heart...and will be until the day I am made whole forever in eternity.

What are you thankful for today?

Prayer Request

Friends, I come to you tonight with a plea for prayer...a dear family member is facing a rather daunting medical diagnostic test. He and his family mean so much to me. I can't really explain the issue all that well, so here is a small description from them: "They found a small mass of tissue down his esophagus, they couldn't determine what it was so we need to go down...so they can do a biopsy. The doctor said it wasn't a fatty tissue, it seemed like something else." Please pray that God gives my cousin, J*, and his wife and kids an overwhelming sense of His peace as they face this biopsy. Please pray that nothing serious is found. Most of all, pray that God would be glorified through them as He gives them the strength to face each and every day!

My Dad's Legacy, part 3

Dear Dad,
I used to think that missing you would get easier as more time passed. I am learning that in some ways it only gets harder as the weeks and months and years roll by. As life moves on without you, I often find myself wishing that I could call you on the phone, share stories with you, gain perspective from your wisdom. I wish that I could introduce you to all the new people I have met that never got the chance to know you. I wish I could run into your embrace when the days get long and responsibilities get harder. Most of the time I just wish you were here.

Two years ago today I was longing for the end to come, only because I could see the pain that overwhelmed your body and I wanted you to be free. I wish I could have taken that pain away from you, made your birth into heaven easier. And I wish the haunting memories of those last days did not sometimes push through the thousands of wonderful memories God gave me with you. So today, as I struggle to overcome the terrible memories of two years ago, I wonder what you are doing. I wonder what kind of marvelous work God has given for you to do. I wonder what you would tell us about heaven.


If God allowed me to sit by your side today, there are so many things I would want to thank you for, so many stories I would want to tell you. One of the things I loved and appreciated most about you was your unending zest for life. Everything a normal person would do, you did with a joy multiplied by 100. While you worked, you whistled. When you sang, you sang louder than anyone else...which used to annoy and embarrass me, but really, you were just offering the fullness of your heart to your Savior. Whenever you talked to anyone, you did it with a big smile on your face and an unmistakable interest in your voice. You had a way of making people feel valued and cared for. When you sat down to a good meal, you always clicked your tongue like you were about to dig into the best thing that ever happened to you. You truly lived more fully than anyone I have ever met.

Daddy, one of the things I loved about you most was how purposefully you led our family. You began each day long before anyone else in the house awoke, sitting in your special chair and spending time with Jesus. You were serious about memorizing Scripture, nearly the entire New Testament by the end of your life, because you knew that the Bible is the best parenting and life guide. You spent hours in prayer for us, pleading with God to tend to our hearts. I will never forget the day, only months before you went to heaven, that you looked at me with tears in your eyes and said, "ASH, make sure you pray for your mom after I'm gone." You loved her so much, and wanted to make sure that someone was covering her in prayer. You treasured and valued time with your family, and made it priority in our home from the very beginning. Dad, you took my hand and guided me gently into the Race, pleading with me to continue on even after you crossed the finish line with flying colors. Many people spend a lifetime with their fathers and never get what I had with you for 19 years. Though I will always wish I had many, many more years by your side, I will never stop praising Jesus for the gift He gave me in you. I love you!

Always your daughter,

My Dad's Legacy, part 2

Today has been hard. For those of you who have watched someone you love slip away before your eyes, perhaps you understand. This time of year, it seems like all the terrible memories come flooding back. I try to overwhelm them with the beautiful, forever-cherished memories, but the bad ones still seep in. To be completely, totally honest...death is the ugliest thing to scar this earth. There is no other way to describe it. I will spare you of the memories that haunt me, but please keep what I have shared with you in mind the next time you meet someone who grieves from the loss of loved ones.

Back to introducing you to my incredible dad...
One of the things I loved the most about my daddy, was that he could be incredibly silly with us, even after a long day. My dad taught middle schoolers...and to this day, I don't know how he even did that! BUT, you would have been shocked to see the things my dad did with us after spending all day putting up with preteens! Spending time with us was SO important to him. One of our favorite things to do was play hide-and-go-seek in a pitch black house. I remember, even as a little girl, pressing up close to him in a closet while we hid from the offensive "IT." We played kickball, catch, board games, went on walks...He was never "too tired" to play with us. Oh, how silly he could be with us!!! I learned from a young age that I could be completely comfortable in my own skin around him...because he was completely comfortable with who he was, flaws and all! He would make fun of himself relentlessly, all to give us a good laugh! My family and I have so many inside jokes about my dad...they are so ridiculous, in fact, that you would probably just roll your eyes if I tried to explain them to you! Parents, never underestimate the power of spending time uninterrupted with your kids. The time my dad spent with us, just getting down and dirty and PLAYING...well, it has forever impacted me.
Here are a couple of pictures of my dad being silly, just for his kids = )


One of the things I loved most about my dad was how dedicated he was to the work God gave him. As I shared with you, my dad was a middle school teacher. He was not a CEO, pastor, doctor, missionary, or lawyer. He was a teacher. But to him, his job was a sacred calling, no doubt a mission field. Every day he went to school with the goal of sharing Christ with those he came into contact with, whether they be teachers, students, or even the janitors that cleaned his classroom. He took an interest in everyone. He wrote a birthday letter to nearly every single teacher he had ever worked with...every year. He called each of his current students on their birthdays. He bought gifts for all of his coworkers every year. And he shared his testimony every chance he got...and even sometimes when he wasn't given a chance! Many of his coworkers did not treat him kindly, even sometimes ignored him. It didn't matter. He greeted them by name, with a huge smile, eager to brighten up the day of anyone he brushed shoulders with! His students LOVED HIM, oh did they love him.

This picture was taken after my dad had taken some time off work following his diagnosis. The newspaper ran an article on him and this was the picture that was printed with it. Boy, did the students miss him!!!

It seemed like everywhere we went in town, someone would stop him and say, "Hey, Mr. H! I had you as a teacher X number of years ago!" And my dad always remembered them. If he didn't remember their names, he remembered some little detail about their lives.

My dad's job was not always easy. I know he had hard days. He would say to me, "ASH, sometimes you just have to show up and let God do the rest!" I still live by that principle today.

My Dad's Legacy, Part 1

Two years ago this Sunday, my dad breathed his last breath on this earth. I realize some of you may tire of hearing me talk about my dad. Really, these posts are more for me than anyone. I have found that there is no better way for me to heal than to write about him and reflect over his life and the impact he had on me.

My dad was always quick to praise those he loved. Have you heard the advice, "For every correction you give a child, praise him 10 times"? My daddy lived that out. I hardly remember him ever speaking a harsh word to me. He told me a thousand times that he was proud of me. His last words to me, other than "I love you," were "ASH, you've been a good daughter." I don't know about the truth behind that, but I do know that he was one incredible dad to me! One of the things he always expressed to me was that he loved my writing. Well, in the year of my dad's illness, I learned something new about him...he was a great writer too! Just 11 days before his heaven-going, my dad wrote these words on his Caringbridge site:

"It is hard not to marvel at the Apostle Paul and his response to hardships. His physical afflictions would be enough to make most of us buckle. Add in the desertions from trusted brothers and sisters in Christ and it would appear to be overwhelming. He never appeared to waver. 1 Thessalonians 3:7 sums up this wonderful perspective he operated from. 'Therefore, brothers, in all our distress and persecution we were encouraged about you because of your faith.' Instead of being drug down by his own trials and almost constant opposition of some kind, he was able to focus on the growing faith of others and that not only diminished his setbacks, but created a great amount of rejoicing for him. Lord Jesus, for those of us living 2,000 years after the Apostle Paul, but still subject to no fewer difficulties, would you give us that perspective that brings joy and contentedness in the thick of our own distresses and persecutions, wherever they may be coming from. Thank you!"

It is amazing to me to read those words, knowing that his prayer even days before his death was for perseverance in Christ. My dad loved Jesus, so much so that he died in peace and at rest with his Savior forever.

Over the next few days, I'm going to share with you some of the things I loved the most about my dad:
1. One of the things I loved most about my dad was that he was devoted to me. I was totally a daddy's girl. The year he suffered from cancer, I quit school and moved back home. Some of my favorite memories from that year are of dates with my dad. I'll never forget the very last date we shared. He was in so much pain, but he did his best to hide it. He wanted so much to be strong for me. We went to an old cemetery and parked there in the parking lot, waiting probably half an hour for him to gain his strength so that we could go for a long bike ride. While we sat there, I just talked...and he listened. As he always did. I talked about my future...knowing it would be without him, and wanting so desperately to get his perspective on it. To this day, I'll never forget some of the wise words he shared with me. He was in pain, but he listened.

My dad used to tell me that, when I was little and would get hurt, he would scoop me up over his shoulder. I would be so upset that I would start pounding on his back, just trying to physically express my pain in some way. He would just let me pound on him. He may have been in pain, but he loved me so well.

Two weeks before my dad died, he put on a suit coat that hung on his frail frame and took my younger sister and I to our church, where he walked us down the aisle so we could have pictures with him to display on our future wedding days. He was hurting, he was dying, but he was still more concerned about my welfare and future than he was about himself.





My daddy was so incredibly devoted to my family and I.

Today, I miss him. I've learned since he went to be with Jesus that I will always miss him...and that's okay. The missing and hurting will only make the Heavenly reunion sweeter.

Guatemala: my dad's legacy

We were rumbling down a mountain, heading toward our last night in Guatemala. The bus held many tired but content people, and I couldn't miss the Holy Spirit's quiet voice ministering to my heart as the song "Great is Thy Faithfulness" played from the speaker. As the song faded into another, I was slightly jolted from my meditation of thanksgiving. These words poured over every part of me, coupled with tingles and goose bumps:

"In the morning, when I rise
In the morning, when I rise
In the morning, when I rise, give me Jesus..."

My mind raced back nearly two years, to a time when I stood next to my brother in a church, singing those very words. The refrain of my dad's life and legacy:

"Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world,
But give me Jesus..."

That day in Guatemala, on the bus, I was overwhelmed by God's presence as I remembered.
Two years ago next Sunday, my daddy went to be with Jesus. As I watched the hills roll on by the window, big tears began to pour down my face because I realized something again: In all the pain I experienced throughout my dad's illness and death, in all the pain of missing him and longing to be with him again, GOD has been and IS faithful.

"When I am alone
When I am alone
When I am alone, give me Jesus"

There have been many moments since my dad left this earth that I have felt alone. I have felt the acute ache where he once resided. As I looked out that bus window, though, God gave me a glimpse of how far He has taken me since that awful day two summers ago. I realized that I never would have been sitting on that bus seat, had my daddy lived. Perhaps even more jarring a thought, I may have never known Jesus, had my daddy not made the life choices and taken the journey he did.

"Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world,
But give me Jesus"

My daddy lived to know Jesus, but he died to see Jesus face to face. He was the closest glimpse I have ever had to knowing the Father. He instilled in me a love for people, a love for the lost...a love that took me to Guatemala. I wept on the bus, wishing that I could go home and sit in his lap, tell him all of my stories. It was all worth it, though. The pain of losing him, the pain of missing him, it led me to a beautiful country full of broken people. And I couldn't help but see him in my mind's eye, smiling because I was doing what he would have loved me to do, what he, on his death bed, pleaded me to do...I was loving Jesus.

My dad taught me that God can bring beauty out of pain. I think about the girl in the wheelchair, the pain she suffers every day. If I could tell her and her mama one thing, it would be that God redeems pain. He has redeemed my pain...and made beautiful things out of the dust that was once there. And He will redeem her pain too.

"When I come to die
When I come to die
When I come to die, give me Jesus

Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world,
Just give me Jesus."***

Those words sum up my dad's life-and-death wish. He may not have lived an extravagant life, but when he came to die, he most certainly received the ultimate fulfillment of his deepest longing. As the music on the bus came to an end, the music in my heart only began. "You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of the dust..."


***lyrics to the song "Give Me Jesus"***

Guatemala: the girl in the wheelchair, part 2

I left you with a stricken mother, weeping tears of sorrow over the broken physical state of her daughter. I have to share the rest of the story with you, though, because I have come to know our God as Jehovah-Rapha, the God who heals. I wish I could tell you that precious M* got up out of her wheelchair that day and walked. There have been times in my life when I have wished that God healed in the way that I wanted him to heal. Certainly when my dad was gasping for breath as he moved from this world into eternity, I would have given anything to see him sit up, smile, and say that he was hanging around for a few more years. But God chose to heal his body for eternity. That day in Guatemala, God chose to heal M*'s mama eternally as well...not in body, but in spirit.

As we prayed over M*, begging God to heal her seizures and her permanently dislocated hip, one of our team members quietly asked M*'s mom if she knew Jesus. She whispered that she had not accepted Him as her Savior. Would she like to? Her tears rolled plenty as she talked to God, asking Him to save her and heal her heart. And heal her He did.


M* is in the gray shirt on the left; her mama is to the right of her.

I will never understand God's ways, for they are far above my own. Had I had my own way that day, M* would have gotten a few pills from us and been released from her physical misery. She and her mama also would have continued on their way, untouched by the eternal power of God's love and salvation. Praise Jesus that His ways are not the same as my own. Did God give her the seizures that torment her every day? Did God prevent her from receiving medical care after she dislocated her hip? I don't believe so. I do believe that God used M*'s physical brokenness to lead her and her equally spiritually broken mama to our clinic that day, where He gave us the great privilege of ministering to them His healing love. God used their pain and hurt to bring them to the Living Water...to a healing that will not fade with the brokenness of this creation, but that will carry them into an eternity of forever healing.

God may still heal M*'s ailments on this earth. He is certainly capable, and I pray that He does. But I rejoice in knowing that He has healed her and her mother for eternity! People may look at M* and say that she is no better off than before she came to us that day. If only they knew the implications of the spiritual restoration she and her mama experienced that day...maybe they would not diminish eternal healing in the face of temporary physical brokenness.

We saw M*'s mama one more time, the very next day. She had a grin on her face, from ear to ear, and an unmistakable joy in her heart. Praise God, Jehovah-Rapha...the God who HEALS.

Guatemala: The girl in the wheelchair, Part 1

It was new, all new. I just sat there, seeking to comprehend everything that was going on around me and trying to learn my new role as nurse-caregiver-Spanish speaker (AHEM). People shuffled in and out faster than I could put names to faces. I nearly missed her. But there was something about her face, an anguish that could not be mistaken for anything else. With her were four young children, including a girl, perhaps 8 or 9 years old, occupying a wheelchair.

As this young mom poured out the story of her broken heart, tears formed trails down the dust cloaking her face. With the help of our incredibly compassionate interpreter, she shared the story of her daughter, the girl in the wheelchair. Born with a congenital seizure disorder, M* never goes more than a day or two without facing a debilitating seizure. Years ago, M* dislocated one of her hips, an injury that was never corrected. Without surgery, M* will be confined to a wheelchair permanently.

As M*'s mama sobbed over her daughter's broken state, the love she had for her daughter could not have been more clearly conveyed. She desperately wanted us to fix her child, her baby. There was nothing we could do to fix M*. As our team doctor gently conveyed, again through our interpreter, that he could not take M*'s seizures away or give her the surgery she needed so that she could walk again, my own eyes began to fill with tears.

I could tell M*'s mama would do anything in her power to take away the suffering faced by her daughter every single day. As I wept with everyone else in the room, I was reminded of another Parent, a loving Father who surely cried tears of anguish as He watched His only Son suffer and die the death of a criminal. I cannot begin to imagine the distress this Father felt as He watched His only Son beaten, whipped, and tortured beyond recognition, then hung on a cross and mocked with contempt. Surely He knew this mother's grief. Surely He loved her more than she could comprehend, so much so that He chose to refrain from rescuing His beloved Son from the pain of torture. The tears of a mother, unable to "fix" the hurts of her child, surely fell that day into the mighty hands of a Father who was not unfamiliar with the grief from which those tears poured.

Part 2 to come...

Guatemala Video

I wanted to share some pictures with those of you who have been following my journey to Guatemala and back. I hope it gives you a small glimpse into my time there! Please join me in praying for the men and women and children I encountered while there...many of whom you will meet in this video. If the font is too small to read, enter full screen mode by pushing the button in the bottom right hand corner of the video. Enjoy!