The Greatest Deal Ever!

What is the first thing you do when you get a great deal on the world's most adorable shoes? And what do you do when someone remarks on those same shoes?

You tell anyone and everyone who asks (and some who don't) when you got them, where you found them, how much they cost you and how fabulous the shoes are.

Even a stranger walking down the street is likely to get some kind of answer from you, right? Because you just got the greatest deal on the best pair of shoes ever and you want to tell the whole world.

You don't hesitate, you don't worry about saying the right thing, you don't wonder if you know enough.

Because you were there.

Easy.

See where this is going?

We have been given the Greatest Deal Ever and it didn't cost us a dime. And this free gift we've been given is life-altering and life-saving! And when people see the difference in us (we'd better hope they see that difference) they're going to ask us where it came from.

Do you have an answer?

Do you tell anyone who asks you where this grace comes from? Do you direct them to the Scriptures for more information? Do you tell them what this bargain cost (you:nothing, Jesus:His life)? Do you tell them how great and fabulous our God is, to lay down His life for our sins?

Do you tell them?

Do you tell everyone you know, and even a few you don't? Do you want to tell the whole wide world?

Or do you hesitate? Do you worry about saying the right thing? Do you wonder if you know enough to be telling anyone anything about God?

Why?

You were there! You were there when you realized that you are a sinner in need of a Savior. You were there when God, who doesn't owe you anything, reached down from on high and plucked you out of that sin. You were there when He took His own blood and washed away the filthy stains of your life. You were there when you became a new creation in Christ.

You. Were. There.

God doesn't call us all to be exegetical scholars. He doesn't call every one of us to stand before dozens, or hundreds or thousands and preach His word. He doesn't expect us to have it all together. But when someone wants a reason for the hope we have, we are expected to give her one.

Because we've been there.

We may not all be called to be Ministers... but we are ALL called to the ministry.

And all we have to is tell our story. Been there, done that, isn't He the Greatest Deal in all the world?

Isaiah 52:7 How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, "Your God reigns!"

Fetus Fridays ~ Babies Bounce

Moms are made to freak out.

In fact, halfway through the pregnancy with my second baby I changed the name of that oh-so-popular book to What to Freak Out About When You're Expecting. To be followed by What to Freak Out About in the First Year.

But I'm here to tell ya... don't sweat the small stuff 'cause babies bounce.

No, not literally - and please, no one test out that theory at home!
Children have a remarkable ability to recover from almost anything. And a remarkable ability to forgive. Moms all over the world make mistakes, and their children love them anyway. Not only will your son love you, he will believe with all his little heart that you are the most wonderful person on the planet.

All you have to do is believe the same about him.

One day that precious little angel is going to drop his transformers down the toilet because they're on an underwater mission to save the planet. A flooded bathroom and huge plumber bill later, you'll probably yell, and say some things you don't mean.

Pay the plumber, mop up the mess and say, "I'm sorry."

Some day you might make a promise without thinking it through and you'll find yourself breaking it. It might not seem like a big deal to you, but to him it will be the world. He will throw a fit and say things he doesn't mean. He will stomp off or you will.

Hold him accountable for his words - and let him hold you accountable for yours - and learn not to make promises you can't keep.

There will be fingers slammed into car doors, precious treasures accidentally thrown away, heads will knock, food will be too hot or cold, and chances are, at one time or another you will model behavior that will absolutely mortify you.

It isn't the mistakes you make, but how you handle them that makes the difference. "I'm sorry" is one of the most powerful phrases in a mom's vocabulary - second only to "I love you." Use both often.

And don't sweat it. Babies bounce.

I have three sons.

***Note: very long and emotional post***

This week I've enjoyed participating in one of my favorite childhood memories - Camp Meeting! For those of you who haven't a clue what that is, the church "movement" I grew up in holds a regional get-together every August to celebrate unity in the Church. It's HUGE!

Camp Meeting has something for everyone and I looked forward to this time every summer. Even when I was in college (which just happened to be affliliated with our church) I loved coming together with people from all over Oregon and Southwest Washington. For many of us, it was our last hurrah before classes started.

This year, aside from the preacher's messages (which I will share in a later post sometime this weekend), Camp Meeting has been about connections.

I may not attend the same kind of church anymore, and I may not agree with some of the theology, but this Church raised me and formed me and shaped my early understanding about God. It is an important part of the person I was before my life got so messy, and significant to who I am today.

I've gone once or twice with my mom since we moved back here from Maryland five years ago, but I avoided people. This year is different. This year I'm seeking people out and these people love me. They've loved me and cared for me and prayed for me through the years that I'd "forgotten" them.

Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. (Romans 12:10-15)

And yet again, you're probably looking at the post title and looking at what I've written so far and are wondering how the two are connected. I take a long time getting to the point when I'm putting my heart out there for the world to see. I promise, I'll get there. This is difficult for me to write so I'm meandering.

Anyhoo...

Last evening I ran into a woman I hadn't seen in over a decade. I baby-sat her children as a teenager and they're now in their 20s (can I feel old when I'm only 30?). We bumped into each other at the sinks in the bathroom (isn't that just like women?) and she recognized me immediately.

We hugged and I introduced her to my youngest who was with me and told her about my other kids. She gave me the typical line about "wow, you must have your hands full!" and then looked at me strangely for a moment.

Then she said, "Last I'd heard of you, you were expecting twins." Ten years ago. And, "I am so sorry."

The world roared to a stop and the blood pounded in my ears.

Ten years ago I was pregnant-and-not-yet-married with twins. And things were so rocky, I wasn't sure I was ever going to be married. My then-fiance was an ordained minister and worked with college-aged young adults and here I was carrying evidence of our sin. Things were a mess (just a foretaste I suppose).

Two little boys grew together under my heart. Only one of them stands with me today.

Let me tell you about my Joshua - my "YHWH saves."

When I found out I was pregnant I was terrified. I was essentially alone 3,000 miles away from everyone and everything I had ever known. And I could already see the path my upcoming marriage was about to take. He had already hit me.

In a gross violation of my conscience I walked into the office of an abortionist for the second time in my life. I can't even begin to tell you the blackness of that moment. I knew with every fiber of my being that I was about to commit murder and I still crossed that threshold.

Everything was ready and the "doctor" (I struggle to give that name to anyone who takes life) did a cursory exam. There weren't supposed to be any surprises.

I cannot thank God enough that He had other plans.

The doctor looked at me like I had deliberately lied to him and told me I was much farther along than I claimed to be. Impossible since there was 3,000 miles between my fiance and me on the date I supposedly "really" got pregnant. He didn't believe me. My uterus was twice the size it should have been, so obviously I was lying. He never considered twins.

The doctor told me it would cost nearly twice as much because I was "so far along." Thank you Jesus I didn't have the money! I walked away sobbing out my shame and my gratitude to the God who had rescued me and my child. I told no one.

Until this moment.

Fast forward a few months. Married only a month and 24 weeks pregnant, I was in a car accident. They did an ultrasound in the ER and everything looked perfect - which was a huge relief since a mix-up with the insurance meant I'd only had one prenatal visit at an armpit clinic and I hadn't even heard the heartbeat.

I saw that child moving in black and white and grey on the monitor and my heart leapt - and broke. The enormity of what I had almost done was devastating.

But the devastation lasted only for a moment when I saw something else, something like a foot that moved briefly in and out of the viewing area. The tech saw it too and moved the wand a bit. And there was Joshua.

Tucked high in my uterus, behind his brother, was the little life that saved both of them. The reason I couldn't go through with what I had planned. "YHWH saves." I laughed and cried and thanked God again for all He had done.

That was one of the last times I really talked with God. For seven years.

Four weeks later, after three prenatal visits with my new OB, I was ordered to the hospital. No one told me why, they just told me to go. Five hours of waiting ticked by and I knew nothing, until finally someone told me that Joshua was gone.

And David was dying.

I had to deliver NOW. And I never got to say good-bye. My boys were delivered and David was whisked off to the NICU. My doctor told someone to take Joshua away. He gave orders that I wasn't to see him or hold him. He said I was too sick to handle the stress.

I suppose I was since I had one of the most severe cases of HELLP syndrome my doctor had ever seen (I found this out months later after finally getting access to my records) and my blood pressure was so high I was a heart-beat away from seizure and stroke.

So he drugged me and I lost 36 hours. Thirty-six hours in which my living son could have died and I wouldn't have been lucid enough to know the difference. Thirty-six hours in which I was haunted by nightmares I couldn't wake up from and grief I couldn't understand.

By the time I was out of the drug-haze Joshua's body had already been delivered to the funeral home and I had NOTHING to remember him by. They didn't do his foot prints. They didn't give me a lock of his hair. They didn't take a picture. They said they were protecting me.

Why didn't they know that not seeing him or touching him was far worse? They should have known.

We buried Joshua eight days later, in more ways than one.

No one talked about him, and when I did, they looked away. Or changed the subject. "Focus on David" they said. "Be grateful you still have a baby to hold." Yeah. Grateful. Oh, and my favorite, "At least you only knew about him for a few weeks, you didn't have enough time to get really attached." I grieved in silence. Even my husband refused to share the burden with me.

For ten years, no one has spoken of Joshua unless I bring him up first.

Until last night.

Last night someone I hadn't seen since I was a teenager, someone who I had all but forgotten, looked me in the eye and acknowledged that I have three sons.

If that isn't love... tell me, what is?

Yes Lord! No... wait... what?

I've heard it said:

God doesn't call the equipped, He equips the called.

Do you believe that?

Over and over again scripture tells us about people who were flawed, broken, uneducated, and/or unwilling who were asked to take part in the remarkable works God had planned.

He took the dregs of society - murderers, adulterers, theives, liars and prostitutes - and said, "Not by [your] might, nor by power, but by My Spirit." (Zechariah 4:6)

We've seen evidence of it over and over in scripture. So why do we doubt it when God calls us? Why do we run?

Is it because we don't want to do the work God has for us? Maybe at first. But I know in my own life that the things I feel called to become things I want almost as much as breathing. It may take a while, but my doubts ALWAYS outlive my lack of desire.

I want to go to graduate school and become a counselor. I want to be teaching my Sunday School class. I want to be Sunday School director for my church. My desire isn't the problem.

So what is?

The Bible tells us that we can do all things with God's strength and yet we still don't believe it. I still don't believe it.

As irrational and nonsensical as it is, I think I run from God's calling because I am afraid that my screw-ups would be too big for God to fix. I'm afraid that I would mess up so badly that my witness and God's plan would be damaged beyond repair. I don't want to make a mockery of my God.

But when you give yourself over, and allow God to work through you, miracles happen. God changes landscapes and lives for eternity. And God uses us. Amazing, isn't it?

Look Up!

I love the song, "Praise You in This Storm" by Casting Crowns. Today I was singing it - after a stormy couple of days of my own - and I desperately wanted to find the verse that is the bridge of that song. Like so many verses, I've heard it over and over again, but I never took the time to find out where it was from.

Today I did.

Psalm 121
I lift up my eyes to the hills— where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD watches over you—the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.
The LORD will keep you from all harm —he will watch over your life;
the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.

As I've battled over the last decade with this depression "thing," I've spent a lot of time looking away. Literally and figuratively. It has been an act of will in the last three years to make eye contact again.

And then I started thinking about my contact with God. In my spirit, most of the time, I am still looking at my feet and hiding my eyes from my Creator. I am still ashamed to approach Him. I am still afraid to see me in His eyes.

And there's the catch. When you look at someone in the eye you not only see into them, you see what they see in you. Scary stuff for me. Especially when I've said more than I meant to or someone knows more than I want them to.

But how can I see everything the Lord has to offer me if I am always looking down? How can I truly trust God if I'm not willing to lift my eyes up to look at Him?

Look up! God knows all of my dirt. He knew the path my life would take before time began. There isn't anything in me that He hasn't seen. And He loves me anyway.

Look up! The God I serve turns ashes into beauty and washes me with His blood. He looks at me and sees HIMSELF in me. His power made perfect in my weakness.

Look up! When I am walking with God I don't have to watch my step or hide in shame or worry about tomorrow. All I have to do is look up and trust Him. He doesn't get tired and He'll take care of the rest.

Money, Obedience, Faith - Oh My!

God did something amazing today. (Yes, I know, He does amazing things every day).

See, I'm sure I've mentioned before that finances are one of those realms I really have a hard time giving over to God. I know He'll provide, but I worry, worry, worry when things aren't going the way I want them to.

I've really struggled with this over this since I became a mother, and then a few years ago God impressed upon me the importance of tithing. Not only because the church needed the money (churches always need money) but because it was an act of obedience and faith.

I started tithing again when I went back to work in August of 2006 and I tithed faithfully. And then this June rolled around. I had no job and very little in the way of savings and I just wasn't finding work. My final paycheck came at the end of June and I was in a full panic.

I didn't tithe.

For the last month and a half I had that money sitting in my bank account. I couldn't bring myself to write the check and yet, I couldn't bring myself to spend the money either, even on bills.

Meanwhile, I've begged, pleaded and railed at God to help me find a job. My prayers were becoming increasingly more frantic and more demanding. My faith in the financial arena was at an all-time low and at one point I said, "Forget it God, I'll talk to You about other things, but I'm not going to talk to You about money anymore. It's not like You listen anyway."

Hmm. Yeah. Probably not the best attitude to have when approaching the Almighty. Good thing God is gracious, huh? Otherwise I would be one singed cookie.

Then last week I started Whispers of Hope a prayer journal/Bible Study by Beth Moore. And God smacked me upside the head with a 2x4. (Again. You'd think I'd learn!) I can count on one hand the number of times I've heard His voice clearer than I did last Wednesday. It just doesn't happen that often.

The essence of the message boils down to this: "I've heard your prayers and I know your needs. I also know your heart. You don't trust Me enough to be obedient. You don't trust me enough to wait for My blessing. Until you give your financial future up to Me, there will be no job."

Maybe that seems harsh, but I was holding on with a tight fist and a terrible attitude.

I fought Him on it for a couple of days. I really did not want to give up that last $100 in my bank account. I needed it for security.

But my soul should find rest in God alone, not in money.

So, on Sunday morning I wrote the check and gave God my financial future and my last dime.

And today? By 1:00 this afternoon I had been called by THREE companies for interviews. I came home from running errands to find an email from yet another company who had received my resume and wanted me to fill out and return the attached application so they could schedule an interview.

Can you believe it? (You'd better =) God does what He says He's going to do. Amen.

Fetus Friday ~ The Ride of Your Life

The first and most important thing a mom needs to know is that life with children NEVER goes "as planned." For many of us, myself included, that starts at conception.

Roomie ~ I have been praying about writing this since I first heard about Fetus Fridays because I wish someone had told me these things before my oldest was born. I chickened out last week and just wrote about diapers because I don't know your exact situation and didn't want to add any more hurt to your life.

But I don't need to know your situation to share some of my experiences and the work God has done in my heart over the last 9 1/2 years of motherhood.

Pregnancy (and motherhood), when there are emotional complications can feel like a roller coaster ride. One minute you're feeling that precious life move inside you and you're so awed by the miracle of it that your heart bubbles over with joy. The next moment you are crying your eyes out with guilt for wishing, even for a moment, that things were different. And a few moments after that you are overcome with fear that someone as "screwed up as you" is about to be responsible for a brand new person.

Yes, I know that all pregnancies are roller coasters, but they're especially wild when circumstances are not all that we would wish them to be.

You're going to wonder whether or not you are fit to be a parent - every mom does. And frankly, no one can prepare for parenting. The books, the classes, the websites, they're nice, but the second that baby is in your arms the rules fly out the window. God, and God alone, can prepare you to be the mother your child needs you to be. And He will, if you ask Him.

You may worry about what you'll say to your little one when he starts asking the tough questions about where he came from. He will ask them. And it will hurt. But he isn't going to need a complicated answer. All he really wants to know is that you love him, you want him, and you thank God for him every day. And that the reality of how he came into being isn't what defines him.

Because we both know that the baby boy growing inside you isn't a mistake or a consequence. He is an unexpected miracle.

And here's where things get tough - the words I really wish someone had said to me.

There might come a day when you are tempted to resent everything you lost because you became a mother instead. There might come a day when you look at your son and resent him. The line between regret and resentment is thinner than you can possibly imagine. The only way you can avoid crossing it is by acknowledging it.

Allow yourself to grieve for the other life that would have been - for the woman you were before life got bumpy and things changed forever. Allow yourself to mourn the hopes and dreams you've likely carried since childhood about becoming a mother for the first time. You'd be surprised the places those things come up - the delivery room, the grocery store, the doctor's office. Cry it out until there are no tears left, then let it go.

We have an Enemy who will take every regret and every wish for something different and turn it into an accusation. Ignore him. He will try to turn every beautiful, amazing thing about motherhood into ashes and keep you in mourning forever. Don't let him. He will try to rob you of your joy and your child of the mother he deserves. Stop him.

Pray every day. Thank God every day. Thank Him for the endless stream of diapers. Thank Him for the sleepless nights. Thank Him for the first steps, the first words, the skinned knees, the first day of school, the childish crushes, the muddy carpets, the spaghetti-kisses, the worms in the bed. Thank Him for everything about this precious boy you've been given.

Because I promise you, no matter what your life could have been, there is nothing that can compare to the life you have ahead of you. Welcome to the ride of your life.