Broken

My heart is broken.

Please, read on.

Well, maybe you should think twice before continuing, unless you want to end up a little bit on the wrecked side.

It started with a phone call from an acquaintance offering up a high-end crib.  No, not for me - she was asking in case one of my students had a need.  We got it over the weekend and I put the word out at school.  Sure enough, one of my girls has a baby who outgrew his donated bassinet and has been sleeping in a pack-and-play, so I arranged to bring the crib to her after school today.

I wasn't prepared for what I saw.

The surroundings change slowly in her part of town, you don't feel like you're in a difficult neighborhood until you get a good look at the houses on her street.  Actually, I'm pretty sure hers is the worst on her street.  My husband and I drove past it the first time because the house numbers weren't visible behind the overgrown tree in the yard...I mean, in the dirt.  (Just so you know, I brought him for the muscle, not because I had any preconceived ideas about where I'd be driving.)

We parked in front of the small house with a cluttered front porch and barking mutt.  Even as we turned the car off, I whispered, "No way she lives here.  No way."  A little girl played barefoot in the dirt out front and was eager to give a happy welcome to a couple of strangers.  The adult woman in the house greeted me and hollered for my student, who appeared from a dim area toward the back of the home.  My husband and I took turns carefully climbing the rotting steps onto the rotting porch, carrying the crib pieces into the front room of the house.  The little girl out front watched curiously, making conversation as only a 3- or 4-year-old can.  My husband finally scooped her up to chat and to give her a little bit of attention for a moment before carefully putting her back down to play in what I wished was a grassy lawn.

Inside, there was a couch and a TV surrounded by stuff - blankets, clothes, trash - and that was just the beginning.  As I took the last of the pieces in, I followed my student through the house to her room.  And when I say "through the house," I mean through 2 of the 3 remaining rooms in the place.  I don't even think I can call them rooms.  I passed through a kitchen area, and all I remember is the trash and dirty dishes that covered every surface, including the floor (which, by the way, is also rotting).  I went through a small space with a washer and dryer, through an open bathroom, into my student's room at the very rear of the house.  All along my path, I dodged clothes, dishes, trash, and other unidentifiable items.  Her room was about a 10x10 space with one window and just enough space for a bed, dresser, and the baby's pack-and-play.  I'm not even sure there was a closet; at that point I was trying not to look around anymore, and just think of her room as the typical teen's messy room.  We went over the directions to put the crib together; she thanked me and we hugged before my smiling husband and I walked out the front door which I realized was their only source of air conditioning.

It was 90 degrees today.

Fortunately we had pulled away before I lost it.  I know some of my students have it rough, but I did not expect such conditions.  What gets me is that in spite of it all, this 10th grade mom comes to school every day with a smile on her face, her baby in tow, and has earned As and Bs nearly all year long.  Thankfully my husband was driving because all I could do was cry, and cry, and cry some more.

I know that as you read this, you will be compelled to ask how you can help her.  There is no easy solution.  She's not the only one living like this.  And I wouldn't even know where to start, because I really don't know the root of the problem.  (My husband, on the other hand, knew right where to start - he suggested we play the lottery tonight, win big and build a house to hold all of the students who need help.)  Is it poverty?  Is it cultural?  Is it generational?  Do we even know?

Samaritan's Purse founder, Bob Pierce, once prayed, "Let my heart be broken with the things that break the heart of God."  I can honestly say that I've never asked God for that; it's too risky.  You know, it might mean that I have to sacrifice or change my lifestyle or give up something that I find enjoyable.  Today, He broke my heart.  He allowed me a glimpse into a world that I know about but that I haven't experienced firsthand.  This afternoon, He gave me a gift - the gift of sight - seeing things as He sees them.

And now, I am broken.

If you regularly read this blog, you know that I often close with some Scripture and a challenge for you, my readers.  But, at this moment, I've got no such thing.  I have spent the rest of my afternoon going through the motions in my comfy home and asking God, "Show me what to do."  Not just for this one student, but for many.  All I can offer you today is my strong encouragement to ask God to show you what He wants you to see, and then to show you what to do about it. We are His hands and feet here; we can bring the solution to what ails the lost, the hurting, the needy.  Then, share it with us in the comments below so we can join you in prayer.

I dare you.

He chose YOU

Sometimes it's hard to believe that the Bible was not written in our current time.  The New Testament letters written by the apostles speak so clearly to our present culture; they are rich in wisdom and warnings.  As I read them, I find myself in awe of the timelessness of those spiritual truths.

The daily news and the Internet bring us every opportunity to be jaded by what's happening in our communities and in the world.  At times we may be overwhelmed by the thought of how to live in a godly way in our current times.  Tolerance is valued more than truth; relevance is esteemed over righteousness.   If we are honest, allowing ourselves to be drawn into those seemingly gray areas of life can feel easier than living uprightly.  But in his first letter, written to "God's chosen people who are living as foreigners," (1 Pet. 2:1), the apostle Peter tells us that this does not have to be so:

But you are not like that, for you are a chosen people. You are royal priests, a holy nation, God’s very own possession. As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light. 

“Once you had no identity as a people; now you are God’s people.Once you received no mercy;    now you have received God’s mercy." 

                                                          (1 Peter 2:9-10, New Living Translation)

God has CHOSEN us to show forth His goodness, His love, His mercy.  We are His people. ( I especially love the part that says we are "God's very own possession.")  How can we not live a righteous, holy, and upright life?  How can we not live as light in a dark place?  There are people in your life and mine who right now are living in the first part of verse 10: "Once you had no identity as a people..."  We have been CHOSEN to show them who they can be, to extend goodness and mercy when they have not experienced those gifts in your life.

Do you believe it?  Do YOU feel chosen?  Friend, this is not like that time on the playground or gym class when we were the last ones to be picked for the kickball game - if we were picked at all.  Being chosen and being picked are not the same thing.  Vegetables are picked.  You, my beautiful friend, have been chosen.  But it's difficult to extend to someone else what we do not possess ourselves.  So let me invite you to join me and some amazing women this upcoming weekend at the "You Are Chosen" conference in New Port Richey, Florida.  Spend the day in God's presence.  Hear encouraging messages and stories from women just like you.  Celebrate the fact that YOU are chosen for just this moment in time!  Find a babysitter.  Grab a friend.  It's not to late to register and you can even come at the last minute if you have to.  I'll be looking for you!

Pancakes and the power of God

A few weeks ago I visited my brother, sister-in-law and nieces in Colorado.  The girls are 5 (almost 6) and 3, so of course I got to do fun things like play Princess Candyland, watch Frozen, have tea parties, read stories, dress Barbies....you get the idea. (Unless of course, you have boys, in which case you have no idea what I'm talking about.)

Yes, I woke up to this sight every day.

My first morning there was a Saturday and so of course, pancakes were in order.  I recruited the girls to help me and they quickly moved the nearest available chairs up to the counter.  We took turns cracking, pouring, and stirring, until at last it was time to add the special ingredient: chocolate chips.  (Their mom's idea.  Don't judge.)  Splitting the measurement in half so that each girl could have the chance to pour the goodies in,  I handed the 3-year-old her portion and told her, "Now sprinkle the chips into the batter."  Her worried little voice replied, "But I don't know how to sprinkle!"  So I stepped in close, gently placed my hands over hers and guided them to create a rainshower of chocolate chips around the bowl. Then big sister dumped her chips in, gave the batter a final stir and I began ladling it onto the griddle.

Those were some of the best pancakes ever.

Later on, as I reflected on that sweet experience, I realized the powerful spiritual truth of that moment.  How many times has God asked me to do something and I hesitate: "God, I don't know how."  I don't move; I'm paralyzed by my own perceptions.  But just as I gave my niece my "hand power" to sprinkle those chips, God gives us His power to do what He asks.  My niece did not resist me, she allowed me to help her.  When we yield to God, His Holy Spirit comes in close and takes over, granting us the ability to do what we feel inadequate to do: loving when it's hard, forgiving when we've been hurt, launching out into a new area of ministry.  In the kitchen that day, I saw with my own eyes a real-life example of Philippians 4:13, that Scripture we always quote but never really live like we believe:

"...For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength." (New Living Translation)

My niece felt she could not do what I'd asked her because she didn't know how.  When I gave my strength and knowledge to the situation, she was able to respond.  In the same way, when the truth of God's words and His mighty hand touches our lives, we can break free from our self-imposed paralysis and do what He's asked.

So my question for you today is, What is God asking you to do?  Allow Him to place His loving hands over your hands, your heart, your mind. You can respond to His instructions with confidence knowing He will empower you to do the difficult or impossible in your life.  I pray the results will be as sweet for you as they were for me.

The Struggle is Real!

I love food.

There.  I said it.  I love food.  I love eating food.  I love watching shows about food.  I love reading about food.  I love cooking food.

You'll tell me that I'm obsessed.  I'll tell you that the appropriate term is that I'm a foodie.   You'll say I have a food addiction.  I'll say....

You're right.  I AM addicted to food.  I use it to celebrate, to manage stress, to show love, to comfort myself or others, to feel in control of something...the list goes on.  Plus, God has apparently gifted me to cook and bake.  (I've even been paid to do that a few times.)  Surely this can't be a problem, right?

The scale and the mirror say, Yes.  It's a problem.

I was in the kitchen putting lunches together for my husband and me this week, carefully measuring out some crackers and feeling resentful that I had to be so judicious as to measure the amount I was placing into baggies.  "Nothing tastes as good as thin feels," I reminded myself. (This is the mantra I dutifully repeated at the end of Weight Watchers meetings more times than I care to count.)

That's when it hit me - and I know it was the Holy Spirit who brought this to light - I don't know what thin feels like.  I've struggled with my weight all of my life.  I've never, ever been close to anything that resembles thinness, so how can I know what good feelings come with being thin?  I can imagine how great that must feel, but I know for sure how terrific it feels to eat  ______________(fill in the blank) because I've experienced it.  I've never experienced being thin.

Recently a friend invited me to join an online Bible/book study with Proverbs 31 Ministries involving Lysa Terkeurst's Made to Crave.  This is not a diet book, but a study that helps women find their satisfaction in God rather than in food.  Written by someone who has walked this path ahead of us, there is an amazing vulnerability in Lysa's writing.  Here are some of the things I can look forward to in this study, as listed on the Proverbs 31 Ministries website (www.proverbs31.org):

-Break the cycle of “I’ll start again on Monday,” and feel good about yourself today.
-Stop agonizing over numbers on the scale and make peace with your body.
-Replace rationalization that leads to diet failure with wisdom that leads to victory.
-Reach your healthy goals and grow closer to God through the process.

I bought the book and signed up for the online study along with thousands of other women.  In a way, I find it sad that so many of God's daughters feel so awful about themselves because of their weight - but at the same time, I'm comforted by the thought that I am not alone in this.  And neither are you.  Maybe food isn't your thing.  Maybe you satisfy your cravings with other things - Facebook.  TV.  Shopping.  Alcohol.  Whatever it is, you were made to crave God, not stuff.  This study can help you, too.  Interested?  There's still time to join in!  Check it out here.

So there you have it.  I've gone public with my struggle.  If you see me eating something you don't think I should be eating, please avoid judging me.  Pray for me instead.  And know that My Father and I, we've got this.

One more night with the frogs

I hate frogs.  

They hide out in the most inconvenient of places.  They are sticky, jumpy when startled and I'm pretty sure they are blind, too.  The science teacher at my school (who has rescued me from small frogs in my classroom several times) tells me that they really are harmless and I shouldn't be so afraid of them.  Whatever.  I keep a broom in my classroom just for the purpose of shooting these unwanted creatures out the door like a hockey player sends a puck down the ice.

So this is why I have always found the account of Pharaoh, the children of Israel, and the plagues so creepy.  One of the plagues sent upon Pharaoh and all of Egypt was a plague of frogs.  We read about it in Exodus 8:1-14.  God warned Pharaoh that if he didn't release God's people, the country would swarm with frogs.  This is how The Message reads (verses 1-4):

"God said to Moses, “Go to Pharaoh and tell him, ‘God’s Message: Release my people so they can worship me. If you refuse to release them, I’m warning you, I’ll hit the whole country with frogs. The Nile will swarm with frogs—they’ll come up into your houses, into your bedrooms and into your beds, into your servants’ quarters, among the people, into your ovens and pots and pans. They’ll be all over you, all over everyone—frogs everywhere, on and in everything!’”"

Eww.  You know I love to cook, so the thought of frogs in my kitchen just makes me squirm!  (Let's not even think about frogs in the bed.)  Well, Pharaoh is hard-headed and Egypt is overcome with frogs.  Finally, Pharaoh relents and asks Moses to ask God to remove the frogs.  Moses agrees and asks when Pharaoh would like him to pray (verses 8-10):

"Pharaoh called in Moses and Aaron and said, “Pray to God to rid us of these frogs. I’ll release the people so that they can make their sacrifices and worship God.”

Moses said to Pharaoh, “Certainly. Set the time. When do you want the frogs out of here, away from your servants and people and out of your houses? You’ll be rid of frogs except for those in the Nile.”

“Make it tomorrow.”

What????

"Moses said, “Tomorrow it is—so you’ll realize that there is no God like our God. The frogs will be gone. You and your houses and your servants and your people, free of frogs. The only frogs left will be the ones in the Nile.” (verse 11)

Pharaoh decided to spend one more night with those frogs in his house...his kitchen...his bedroom.  Listen, if I had a plague of anything in my house, and had the promise that I could be rid of it, you can bet that my answer would be, "NOW!"  So, why don't I?  

Let me explain.

Last night at a women's event, I heard a message from Christine Caine, well known Australian preacher and all-around amazing woman of God.  She spoke from this passage and exhorted us to get rid of the frogs we are still living with as daughters of God.  Frogs like shame...guilt...fear...doubt...insecurity...the list goes on.  We DON'T HAVE to live one more night with the frogs!  We can leave them at the foot of the Cross and be free.

Yes, it is that simple.  I realize that I don't know what you've done and what you've been through, and you don't know what I've done and what I've been through.  But that doesn't matter.  Your history doesn't have to determine your destiny - God is the author of your story, and He's still writing!  He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.  His love is unfailing.  His grace is sufficient.  His forgiveness is freely offered.  Nothing I have done or been through, or that you have done or been through, none of that changes who God is.  He is our Father who longs for us to see ourselves through the rose-colored glasses of the blood of Jesus, His Son (thank you Christine for that visual).  We must build our lives on the truth of God's Word, not the tainted pieces of our pasts.

So, in the words of Christine Caine, "When the world looks at you, do they see frogs or freedom?"  Don't waste another moment like Pharaoh did! Pray that frog out of your house - out of your life - today.

New Year, New Look, New Name, New Start

Welcome to 2014!  Are you excited about the year ahead?  No?  That's okay.  I've had to force myself to feel excited.  Some days it's hard to read all of the social networking posts by people who really, really "feel" this new year thing.  I just don't feel it.  And I felt terrible about that until I read a Facebook post by a young man who was home on leave from his missionary work overseas.  He commented on the fact that our calendar is man-made and is somewhat of an artificial way to keep our lives in order.  While God does operate in times and seasons,  He is not ruled by the turn of a page on our day-timer.  I love how my young friend expressed it:

"...And as for resolutions.... there is only one January 1st per year... but there is also only 1 May 23rd per year as well. Each second is like a snowflake. No two are the same. Though each one seems small and insignificant...each one is a totally unique masterpiece. Every second is a chance to turn for the better... Every breath is a chance! And as for personal change, when we yield to Christ, we have the Holy Spirit come into us. He brings the change at all times, in all seasons, and through all circumstances. Time is not a valid excuse in the eyes of God. His love is here and His love is now."

This is so powerful.  Every second is new.  Every breath is fresh.  Every day is a new day - another chance to live the life that God has designed for us, another opportunity to influence our world for His purposes, one more untarnished start.  We don't have to wait for January 1st.  I can start posting on this blog today, January 4th, I don't have to waste another year, another month (it's been 5 since my last post!) or even another moment.  This excites me - or at the very least, motivates me to move forward.

Do you feel it yet?

Whatever it is you haven't done, haven't said, haven't tried, haven't gotten excited about - now is your time.  Do it.  Say it.  Try it.  Get excited about it.  Go on with God.  It's a new day.