A Saturday of Service

What an amazing gift to be a part of God's plan and see it through from the first seed to fruition!

Our church conducted our first Operation Inasmuch this past weekend, a local feet-on-the-ground mission trip.  We literally served in the backyard and surrounding neighborhoods from our campus.

Here's a quick video that gives a snapshot of what the day was like.  So good!

When a small group from our church sent a mission team to a similar project in Nashville last summer, we had no idea what God would have in store for us.  Looking back, I can see this past weekend was His plan all along!

Our family was deeply impacted in Nashville, having our eyes opened to the refugees that live two short hours from us.  Coming home, we realized that we could duplicate a mission of service here.

I began praying for direction of exactly how our church would be on mission in our own backyard.  A few weeks later a small postcard showed up in my mailbox.  It was a call to action to learn more about Operation Inasmuch.  And from that God's plan was born.

It was an honor to watch the progress from prayerful planning stages to final details.

Saturday, sitting in the circle of an army of volunteers I had to choke back tears.  I flitted about to various projects, taking photos, but mostly soaking up the view of watching His hands and feet in action.  From prayer walks, to lunch preparations, to nursing home visits, to chats with individuals awaiting free oil changes, they were all precious sights to see.  And even better was watching our teens roll up their sleeves and take part.  Both were eager and excited to serve.

Over 100 volunteers, countless lives touched, and a church on fire for missions.  What a wonderful way to spend a Saturday!

If you would like to learn more about Operation Inasmuch just click the link!  





Linked with #DancewithJesus

Beautiful Mess

The other night I went to bed exhausted a bit early for our household, especially for a Wednesday. With church, we never seem to eat dinner until after we arrive home, which is around "universal bedtime" for little ones.

That alone could send me tossing and turning, but for whatever reason I had a slew of issues that kept me from sleeping.  Restless legs, eyes wide open, even if tired, a random allergy attack, and tummy troubles shot me out of bed after midnight.

Normally, the minute I realize that sleep isn't going to come, I'll get up.  That night I wrestled with it for hours.  Sometimes the alone time is welcomed, a rare treat as a Mom.  Yet because I was already tired, this gal wasn't very grateful as I stumbled in dark to find my spot.

Not sure if I wanted to watch tv or read, I browsed online for a few minutes and realized it was prime viewing time for the meteor shower.  A few of my friends were already commenting about how beautiful and amazing it was on Facebook.

Stepping outside on my back deck, I expected to see a brilliant display.  Instead what was received was dizziness from having my head up and spinning in a circle in the dark.  Hmmm...

Back inside, I googled for the best direction to view the show.  Northeast.  Out in the dark I go, internal GPS positioned best I could gauge and - nothing.

Huffing this time, I stomp around, grumbling about being up at this hour and still not benefiting from it, I ask my sleeping husband for directions.  Of course in his slumber, he sends me the exact opposite direction.  Though I may not be keen on compass skills, I knew without a doubt he was sending me the wrong way.

Grabbing my phone and a blanket I trod out determined to catch a glimpse of something.  Anything.  To be fair, my other trips had been very impatient and short-lived.  I wanted results without doing any work to get there.  Lord, help me...

Turning on some inspirational music, blanket snuggled, I was ready.  While waiting, I decided that a good use of my time would be spend it in prayer.

Sometimes the best conversations I have with God are at 2:00 in the morning.

What I learned a long time ago, is that you don't always have to be knees-bent to pray.  He tells us to do so continually, without ceasing, so that means anywhere and everywhere.  So with worship music going in the background, under a canvas of twinkling stars, I lift my prayers up to One responsible for my view.

And then He responds.

In a brilliant streak across the sky, I finally see what I've been waiting for!  They happen so quickly that if I were not looking, the opportunity would've been missed.  Tears streaming I wonder how often that happens in my life.

How impatient I am to want things on my time, my way.  How many times have I overlooked what God had in store for me in the moment because I was wishing it away on something ahead?

An hour and a half later, I force myself inside, realizing some sleep might be appropriate given the work day I'm facing.  Obviously it was a lengthy day, given it's taken me two days to finish this post.

Today, He hits me when another morsel when I confirmed what a meteor specifically was.  The definition made the night's viewing have even more of impact.

It's just trash.  

Debris in the sky.  Dust and rocks.  Something we'd normally discard or pay no attention to, yet God makes it amazing.

Oh, how I love His whispers to my soul.

Quit worrying.  

Give it to me.  

I'll take your mess and create something beautiful.  

Just wait....you'll see.

Signs and Milestones

Yesterday was tough.  A bite your lip, distract yourself, get through the day kind of day.

It was busy at work, which was helpful in some ways, but a big piece of my heart and mind were elsewhere.  A day spent teetering on tears - misty on the way to work, praying throughout, and sobbing the moment I walked out the door and got into my car.

Driving home, I ended up at the cemetery.  Not a place I normally find comfort, but I needed somewhere to cry in peace.  And I knew I could do it beside my sweet boy.

July 8 would've been Austin's 21st birthday.

It was harder than I expected.  Not that any birthday, or holiday (or any day) is easy after losing a child.  But some of his birthdays have actually been unexpected blessings, like last year.

So, unlike the early years, I didn't schedule off and expected that I'd make it through ok.  In this walk with grief though, I've learned there is no time limit on the pain and you can never plan or expect, it takes you where it will, when it wants.

Sure, there were signs, as always.  More yellow butterflies than I could count, darting in and around my car wherever I went.  Many dancing around his grave.  My radio is never off and every time I got back in, whatever song was playing seemed to be a hello from above or a needed hug.

Still, I had a job to do, so I stored up and pushed away so much pain that by the end of the day exhaustion set in.  Tim saw it, felt it himself I'm sure, but stepped up last night and took over roles I normally fulfill.  He cooked us a small and simple dinner and went to get the kids from church.  We called it an early night and thanks to prayers of many, fell into a deep and restful sleep.

Yesterday, I think I grieved what I lost, what I never had, and where I would be at this point.  It was coming to terms with not having a child anymore and the realization that, if he were here, he wouldn't be a child anymore either.  I just didn't have the past seven years to watch him mature into the man he would be now.

Seeing his baby brother, Noah, towering over us, watching the days fly by on the calendar as he counts down to his own milestones, like driving, makes me want to push in the brakes even more.  I want to fully saturate myself in them - with him.  I don't want to miss a moment.  Maybe because I know how precious and unpromised they are.

And of course, just like his big brother, Noah has a heart of gold.  My gentle giant, I call him.  Dropping them off to church I ensured he had enough money for the snow cone, where youth were gathered.  He smiled and said, "21 and some change."  I knew what he was doing and prayers were sent up all the way home that he'd get a blessing from it.

Getting there early, as they prefer, he walked up to booth before the line wrapped the corner and "Paid it Fwd" for Austin.  $21 in memory of his 21st.  Noah waited an hour before he got in line, hoping that the fwd would last enough for most who'd arrived.  He was hugged from above to find out others had continued to pay it forward and his was also free.  This morning I received a sweet text from the owner saying it gave her chills and many were touched by the night.

Noah and I laughed later that it would've been just like Austin too.  Never one to like alcohol, he would've preferred to ring in his 21st with a giant snow cone to celebrate his big day.  Fitting the name of the place is Paradise, since we know that's where he is.

Here's one for you, Bub, swirled with lots of love.  

Linked with #DanceWithJesus

Grace

I wouldn't say that I'm clumsy; rather, I don't possess the skill of balance...or luck.  Perhaps my middle name should've been Grace.  It would've been Noah's, had he been a girl.  But that's a story for another day.

This morning, I'm pillowed-up hospital bed style trying to recover from a recent fall.  As with most falls in my life, it was less my fault, more being in the wrong place at the right (er...wrong) time.

Steps are my nemesis.  Over the years I've dropped, knees first, while managing to keep a cake from falling to its death.  I've hurled from the top step, after my heel caught the "safety grade" and sent me flying, ironically in a hospital stair well.  Spilled out the door on icy steps and injured myself more in trying not to fall than if I'd just let it happen and landed in the snow.  And I've fallen through steps as they disintegrated underneath my foot.

Even when steps aren't involved, I've gracefully tripped over rugs and slid like stealing home base on the pavement.  Fallen into random holes that magically open up in the yard only when I walk through it.  And of course there was that time I flew off the back of the motorcycle when that lady ran a stop sign and nearly killed hubby and me.

Thankfully most of my falls didn't require much help or healing time. Granted the motorcycle wreck called for the lengthiest amount of assistance and time to heal, but this latest fall has required more than I prefer.  Perhaps it is that I'm pushing 40 and this body just isn't what it used to be.  sigh...

But this go around, I've been dependent on my family as bruised ribs prohibit you from doing all sorts of normal activity.  Like, for instance, breathing.  Now that fluid has set up on my remaining good knee, I'm feeling rather incapable.  I'm sure it's a funny site to watch me hobble, moan, wince, and waddle around the house.  Asking for help isn't my cup of tea though and it often puts me in a bad mood for having to.

I know I've complained, snapped or whined way more than I should.  My family gets the worst of it because I have to put on a brave and good face at work all day.  By the time I make it to the comforts of home, my guard falls and the real me shows.  The one that needs lots of Grace.

Thankful to have this family in my life, even when I don't deserve them.  Yet, isn't that what love is?  Even when we fall short, mess up, and share all our short-comings, they love us anyway.

What better feeling is there than that?

Actually, it's the kind of love God has for us.

A love that cannot compare on any level to even the deepest love of our family.
Forgiveness.  Peace.  Joy.  Mercy.  Hope.  And all-flowing grace.

Even though we don't deserve it.

Sufficient grace...That's something I can fall upon and find rest in.


Linked with: #DanceWithJesus

Who's Driving the Bus?

Who's following you?  

And I don't mean in social media.

The truly important ones watching you aren't followers on Twitter or likes on Facebook.  (Welcome though!)

Instead, they are those real life connections who look to you as an example for inspiration and hope.

Often, I'm surprised who that includes.

The past couple of months have been especially rocky for us in a specific area.  There have been times this joy-gal has been especially discouraged.  Days I just wanted to throw in the towel.  Moments I thought about giving up.

Over and over again God has whispered and showered me with reminders of others riding on my bus.

If I get lost, what happens to those following me?

Think about it.  Who is watching you?  Your children?  Neighbors?  Co-workers?  Friends?  What difficulty have you survived or endured?  Did you handle it with some grace?  Did it draw you closer to God?  Did it change your outlook on life?  Someone is holding on to how you coped and using it for encouragement for their own trials.

Maybe that knowledge can seem overwhelming, a hefty responsibility; but to me it was an uplifting reminder that it is not about me!

Our role as Christians is to lift each other up, to pray for one another, and to keep our eye on the prize.  When it feels like you're losing your way, turn to the One for direction.

Don't be discouraged.

Never forget others are following us and finding hope along our journey.

And remember you can't get lost with Jesus as your co-pilot, 

no matter how rocky the road!

Linking up with: #DanceWithJesus

Lead Me

Tears brimming.  Voice shaky and cracked when words escape.  The stress from the past few days overwhelmed me as I broke down in front of my husband.  

"What do we do?!" 

Heavy uncertainty lingered in the room.  My husband's hand on the door, waiting.

I whispered, "I guess we just keep praying."

"You're right," he said, as his hands left the door, clasped with mine, and he led us in prayer.

My worries melted and, despite the pain of the moment, I found myself lifting up prayers of gratitude to God.  Forgetting the current struggle and celebrating, as my soul pondered what a beautiful gift this husband is.  Oh, what a change He has made in him!  And us.

Most nights, now, I drift asleep to the sound of my husband reading the Bible.  

Tears falling at the magnitude of this single sentence.
How many years...the number of prayers whispered. 

For so long I prayed for my husband's relationship with God to grow.  After we lost our oldest son, I feared those prayers would never be answered.

Not only did I hope for him to be stronger in the Lord, I yearned for my husband to become the spiritual leader of our home.  To be the man I knew God had planned for him to be.

Most of our marriage, I took the reigns when it came to our Christian walk.  My constant prayer was that Tim wouldn't just join me at church but lead us.  To not just attend but be present, engaged.  And there were many years I doubted.  Wondered if God heard my pleas.

Austin's been gone nearly seven years.

Unimaginable pain we've endured.  Unspeakable loss.  A broken that isn't easily mended.  My husband's shattered heart was visible, even from the outside.  The spark had left him, as well as his trust in the Lord.  He was angry, uncertain, hurt.

To fast forward to where we are now.  The progress and change that has evolved the past few years.  It can't be summed up in a few lines for this post.  But what I can say, simply, is that God can move mountains!  In all things He works for the good.

As I write this, my soul connects to other women I know facing this prayer.  I join them, knees bent.

If this is you today, my sister, please know God hears you.  He knows.  It has already been planned.  In the midst of your storm, He has already formed your rainbow.  Just cling onto Him.  Trust in His timing.  And have faith that He only wants the very best for you - and the man you love.

Don't lose heart!  Never cease praying.  

For when the answer arrives and you witness the powerful change that only comes from the hand of God, oh, what a blessing it will be.  How wonderful His mercy and grace!

In gratitude for the leader God's gifted to our home.


Linking up today with: