Oy.

Camping.
Four children.
+ 103 degree weather.
Bad news for all parties involved.

What was I thinking?

I was crabby, they were crabby. We came home early.

And since I am perilously close to a great deal of whining... I'll write more later, when I feel a bit more civil.

Off Camping!!

I'll be off camping until Sunday.



I am looking forward to four days of relative peace and quiet (my kids are coming with me after all) and fun times with my church family.



I am likely to come back covered in mosquito bites, burnt to a crisp and wearing an inch or so of dirt... yippee!!! =) My kinda good times!

May the Lord bless you and keep you (and me, and my children) over the next few days!

Catch me on Twitter. There is sporadic service at camp.

Unreal... Unthinkable... Irresistable

Last week at Camp Meeting the theme was "Stand Firm" and was based on 1 Corinthians 15:58, which says:

Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give
yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in
the Lord is not in vain.

And the emphasis of the sermons, over and over again, was that we stand firm by standing on the truth that Jesus died, rose and is ALIVE today. And that He did it for us.


On the last night, the speaker told a story that drove the point home:

A pastor spoke from the pulpit about a father and his son and his son's best friend who planned a fishing trip on some river out in the middle of nowhere. One afternoon a huge storm came in and caused flash flooding. The river that was once calm became a churning mess and their boat capsized.


In an instant, the father knew that he could only save one of the boys.

He looked at his son, who was everything a father could hope he would be. He knew and loved Jesus and wanted to serve Him. And he looked at his son's friend, who wasn't saved and was getting into a lot of trouble lately. There was only one choice the father could make.

He saved the friend.

After the service an older gentleman in the congregation asked two teenagers what they thought of the story. They told him it was silly and unrealistic because no father would pick the friend over the son.

Then the older gentleman revealed that he was the father and the pastor who told the story was the friend who was saved.

If he was willing to let his son go to save someone who was lost, imagine the lengths Jesus was willing to go to save us all.

When you think about it, it does seem a bit unreal, doesn't it?

The Creator of the Universe cared so much about all the ungrateful, wretched little humans running around on His planet that He cast aside all of the glory of heaven to become Immanuel. God with us.

And not only that, He laid down His life.

Make no mistake, the Romans did not take Jesus' life. The Sanhedrin did not take Jesus' life. We did not take Jesus' life. Jesus gave it up.

There wasn't a single moment of his arrest, torture and Crucifixion that occurred without Jesus' permission. There wasn't a single drop of unwilling blood shed from His body.

God did the unthinkable. As Father, He let His Son die so He could save us - people who consistently and habitually break every commandment He lays out and defy His authority. As Son He poured out His life for a world that didn't deserve it.

Oh the lengths God has gone to reach out to us! Can you resist Him?

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?