Looking Back While Moving Forward

       As I sit in my cozy little apartment in the city, I can hear the noise of engines revving at the light outside our home and sirens wailing off in the distance. These are not uncommon sounds these days and most times I hardly notice them. My Christmas tree still twinkles in our living room and the tiny lights captivate my attention. The Christmas balls dance with color and sparkle in a way that only Christmas balls on a tree can do. It is a bit gray outside and this makes me feel retrospective for some reason. The lights, the colors, the weather; not to mention the mug of hot tea I am sipping. I can't help but reflect on my year and what it has carried.

       What a journey this year has been. There are no other words to describe this year than adventurous. Crazy adventure, to be exact! The year started in a whirlwind for us. Newly married, finishing school for me, and so many other every day things taking place. Somewhere in the first few months we felt a change for our short life together was making way for an awesome appearance. It took nearly all year to emerge, but after much praying, tears, studying the Word deeper, and getting on the same page with God, we knew He was calling us to a new homeland, a new place where He had called us to go. Our year quickly turned from months of seeking His face and searching for his plan, to a call of obedience. The story is way too long to share, but by spring we knew that God was asking us to trust Him no matter what and to obey the call He had placed on our hearts. God was moving us to the greater Philadelphia area.

       It would take a few months to get to where we knew God wanted us to be, but we would eventually make it. Those days were very difficult. We needed to hand over our finances to God, continually ask Him for direction at every step, and  attempt to walk in the palm of His hand through it all. The summer brought many lessons, some of which were: 1. Learning that God provides for our every need physically, financially, mentally, spiritually; every need when we trust Him and get in the center of His hand. Even when life is challenging, He provides and we find joy 2. God wants us to have an intense love and care for the 'least of these' and taking action to care for such people is beyond fulfilling. 3. I am beyond thrilled to have a husband who wants what God wants more than what he or I want and a fearless leader who is willing to chase a crazy adventure with me. I am blessed beyond measure. 4. When we are ready and willing to be used by God, He doesn't delay in using us! 5. Prayer really, truly works. 6. The list goes on! 7...8...9...etc.

       Through the generosity of some friends, we spent the summer living in a small apartment near the city as we pursued support as missionaries to the greater Philadelphia area. We went through a lengthy process of partnering up with a great church called The Journey and Mark began an internship with the church where he will spend the next three or so years training and learning how to plant a church. We will work side by side with our current church family, serving in all the ways we can and experiencing the community that God has called His people to be. We love our church and have enjoyed learning more about them, getting involved with them, and jumping completely into the water with these truly awesome people.

       The fall brought the official move into a neighboring city to Philadelphia to this cute little, cozy apartment from which I now write. It was amazing how this place was provided for us and how perfect the location is for our ministry. The very day the 'For Rent' sign was placed outside, we happened to be walking around the city, looking for housing. We were the first to call about the place, and the ones to rent it! This is no small task in the city as housing disappears almost as instantly as it is discovered. But by the grace of God...

       Fall also afforded me the opportunity to go back to school and pursue my graduate degree. This is a dream come true. I have always wanted to be a licensed counselor, and I am a step closer to that God-ordained dream. With one semester down and another about to begin, I enter with confidence that I am right where God intends for me to be. I couldn't be any happier in a grad school program than I am in this one. Biblical Theological Seminary is simply phenomenal. Counseling comes easy for me...well, as easy as counseling can be. I have a true heart for the broken and weary and absolutely want to be used to change the trajectory of the lives of those I will counsel. My deepest desire is that I would be used by God to bring healing to the places that need healing in my future clients and that through them, I too would grow closer to God, daily relying on Him to provide wisdom and insight into the needs of my future clients.

       So, as I reflect on 2012, I am well aware that we have come through a lot, but not without the hand of God guiding us throughout our days. I have grown so much this year in many ways. I have experienced quite an adventure and wouldn't trade it for anything. When Mark and I first got married over a year ago, I said to him on several occasions "Mark, let's do something crazy for God. Let's go on an adventure!" Little did I know, that just a few months later, in the beginning of 2012, God was orchestrating just that.

       May 2013 be the continuation of a grand thing and even better at teaching me even more about God - the one my life is dedicated to. May I serve feverishly and bring Him all the honor and glory He deserves. May the burden for the poor, orphaned, widowed, broken, victimized - the least among us be so heavy on my heart. Yes, may I decrease and He increase.

Happy New Year!

Savings: Homemade Yogurt

       If you're anything like my husband and I, we eat yogurt like it is completely going out of style! We love it! After going to the grocery store and realizing that, between the two of us, we devour four large containers of Stoneyfield yogurt a week and taking a moment to add up the cost of that, I decided to look into making my own yogurt. French Vanilla is our favorite, but I was willing to make plain yogurt and flavor it on my own if it meant that it would save us a pretty penny. It was either that or stop eating it, and considering how nutritious yogurt is, and how much we love it, I knew that my only options were to continue spending the $15-$20 a week on yogurt of make it. I chose the latter.

       I'll admit, I was a little skeptical at first. I was worried about executing the recipe incorrectly and spoiling an entire batch, then, unknowingly ingesting nasty, spoiled yogurt. The thought was enough to gross me out, but I suppose not enough to scare me away from this wonderful creation. After doing a little bit of research and realizing that there are a ton of ways to make yogurt and every website tells you to do something different, I settled on my own sort of recipe. I suppose having a yogurt maker would make this process a million times easier, but I don't have one, so I will share with you all what I do to successfully accomplish making yogurt. If you're curious about the cost effectiveness, allow me to save you the time it takes to read this recipe and just add this tidbit in now. Brace yourselves, it's epic savings. For four quart containers (yes, I make one whole gallon at a time!) the only cost is one gallon of milk and one small cup of organic yogurt (only needed the first time you make your yogurt. After the first time, you will use your own culture). I believe that comes out to less than four dollars. Yes people, less than four dollars for one gallon of yogurt. Now that you all are completely amazed and will be jumping up to make yogurt (one can dream, right?), let me wow you even more and let you in on how easy it is to make!

First, take one gallon of milk (I use 2%) and heat it to 180 degrees. I use my crockpot. It takes several hours to heat if using the crockpot on high, but I find I don't have to worry about scorching and can easily do other things while I wait for it to hit the proper temperature.
After the milk has reached 180 degrees (this breaks down the milk proteins), turn off the heat and cool to a nice temperature between 115-120. Any hotter than 120 degrees will kill the live culture bacteria in the yogurt you will add and any cooler than 115 degrees will not be warm enough to grow the culture.

 

 

Once the desired temperature  is reached, then take a few spoonfuls of your yogurt culture (preferably organic yogurt) and drop them into the milk. Whisk the mixture so it is nice and smooth. This won't take much effort.

 

Finally, the fun part begins. The mixture must stay warm for approximately 6-8 hours. I do this by turning the crockpot on warm for only about 30 seconds (just enough to take the chill out of the crockpot outer piece). Then, place the crockpot lid on and cover the whole thing with a ton of think, warm blankets to insulate the concoction. Be sure you have turned the crockpot off or you will ruin the entire batch. My favorite part comes next: Go to bed for 6-8 hours!!! Yep, go to bed and let the yogurt do its thing. In the morning, you will find you have a huge batch of yogurt! voila!

 

Before you do anything with the yogurt you've created, place the entire container in the fridge. DO NOT scoop it out of the container you made the yogurt in or it will not set correctly. Only after the yogurt has completely cooled for a few hours, can you scoop it out and put it in smaller, easier stored containers. I like to use glass Ball jars so I can properly sanitize them and reuse them.

 

Finally, feel free to mix in some vanilla extract (to taste) or a small amount of honey or sugar. I don't add sugar as I want this to be a super healthy treat, but I do add vanilla and honey. You can also add fresh fruit in individual servings when you are ready to eat it or granola. All are healthy and yummy options! Enjoy!

 



        Just a few more things. After you have made the yogurt and cooled it, you may notice and clear or slightly yellow liquid on the top of the yogurt. This is called whey. It is actually very nutritious and can be mixed into the yogurt. However, if you prefer thicker yogurt, you can strain the whey off with a cheese cloth.

        I have learned that the longer you continue to use your own yogurt culture to make more batches of yogurt, the thinker the yogurt becomes. After using the same culture a few times, you will see a difference. Each batch of yogurt lasts at least two weeks, but you can still safely use the culture for your next batch at that two week mark. I recommend this!

       Feel free to ask any questions! I've been doing this for several months and find it to be simple, money-saving, and delicious. Enjoy!

Like a Little Child

       As many of you know, I am currently working as a nanny as I work my way through graduate school and achieve my MA in Counseling. No doubt, my future does not consist of extended nannying years, but it will surely still be filled with children. Granted, my job now, is one in which there is joy, happiness, playing, laughing, and complete love of life. However, in the future, I will be dealing with children who have lost that sort of flame for life; the least of these who need something to bring them joy once again. But that's an entirely different post. What I want to focus on in this post is how awesome kids really are. In order to protect the identity of the little girl I nanny, and her family, I've decided to call this little sweetheart (no, there will be no photos of her either), Eve.

 

       Let me just tell you, Eve is one happy child. At just under two years old, I have never met a more happy child in my life. I arrive early in the morning, approximately 7:30AM, and each morning Eve greets me with the biggest smile I've ever seen. For several minutes I get the 'scoop' on what's for lunch or what time Eve woke in the morning or if she has been spitting her breakfast out or actually ingesting it. She patiently waits as mom goes over the logistics, but the moment little Eve's mom leaves the home, it is serious playtime for us! Okay, some days she's more in the mood for cuddling up and being tickled and other days she's totally ready to hit the ground running - literally - and I chase after her playfully as she squeals and shrieks with complete joy...but there's one thing for sure, lots of laughter is always on the menu.

 

       One of the coolest things I've had the privilege of witnessing is Eve's growth. Yes, she has certainly physically grown in the short five months that I have worked for this lovely family, every single day is full of discovery and adventure. Just this morning, as I work hard to develop Eve's language skills, she picked up a Mickey Mouse coloring book, began turning the pages rapidly and yelling 'Mickey! Mickey! Mickey!' at every page that had an image of her superstar. I was elated. For so long I've been saying 'Mickey' for her and today she decided it would be a great thing to say. How completely precious! I am completely amazed at who this little girl is becoming and at what is happening in her little brain. Neural connections are happening daily and so quickly I can hardly believe the progress she makes each day. She's a smart little lady, that's for sure!

 

       What speaks to me the most about children, and particularly Eve, is the joy they each exude. I'm sure this isn't the truth for each and every child around the world, but I would be willing to bet most children are joyous. Eve is nearly two and she has taught me, some of the most beautiful lessons about life and has reminded me of some important things. When I look at Eve, I am reminded that I can approach life a lot of ways, but when I approach it with joy and happiness, I will find beauty in the things around me. Kids are so happy with even the smallest things. Eve can entertain herself for hours with just a small trinket. While out on a walk on warm fall afternoons, the sight of a brightly colored flower is enough to overload her little mind with awe and excitement. I've decided, if adults were more like Eve in these ways, this world would be a much kinder and happier place to live!

 

 

       If I'm being honest, there are days when Eve has a bit of an attitude, but those are few and far between. However, when they do come and I need to spend a few moments scolding her and keeping her from doing something she wants to do because it could be harmful, she instantly forgives me for being stern and taking away the fun she thought she was going to have. Granted, I'm certainly not harsh with Eve. When I have to correct her I am still gentle. Eve is forgiving. Kids are usually quick to forgive. I wonder what life would be like if we were able to forgive like that. Wouldn't that be so freeing?

 

       Along with her joy and forgiving heart, Eve is highly affectionate. She loves to cuddle. 'Love' is probably not a strong enough word to express how much this child loves to show affection. There is nothing more adorable and precious than when she curls up on my lap to take a nap and she puts her head on my chest and holds my hand as she drifts off to her deep slumber. I swear she can't fall asleep without holding my hand.  I don't know how someone couldn't absolutely melt when experiencing such a heartwarming affection. It's just as heartwarming when she comes and randomly gives me hugs and kisses while we are playing. Eve knows the meaning of loving those around her who care for her and who love her back. How often we forget these things and forget to tell those around us that we care about them, even through a simple hug. Children understand love, and before their thoughts about it are all messed up and marred, they know how to naturally show it to those they love and those who love them as well. I think there's something to learn.

 

       Have you ever stopped and watched a child and thought 'Wouldn't it be nice if the whole world had their joy, their awe, their love, their forgiveness...I do. I think this every single day I spend with Eve and I strive to live like her in some ways. I want to be a person who has great joy in life and awe for the simplest things around me. I want to love and forgive. There's something to being childlike, and I for one don't ever want to grow up. Let children be a reminder of these things to us, daily.

The Simplest Joys...

     It's that time of the year again. The hustle and bustle is swirling all around me and I'm finding it difficult to keep up with not only my own 'bustle', but the bustle of those around me is enough to make me feel lightheaded and dizzy. Don't get me wrong, I love this time of the year. The energy, the lights, the joy, the excitement, friends, family, and tasty comfort foods; it all does my heart some good. But somehow, in the midst of this awe-inspiring season, something is missing.

     I admit I am addicted to the busyness. I get pleasure out of traveling, giving gifts, and running from one place to the next. When I am not moving or doing something, I don't feel normal. With all the things that put demands on my time, I am an expert at scheduling. My calendar is full with graduate school, band practice, youth ministries, church activities, serving my community, dinners with friends, work, and so much more.

     With the recent end of the semester at school, I spent my first day 'free' going about my normal daily activities. I went to work (I nanny a 18 month old) early in the morning after a long night of my final classes the evening before. As I'm sure you can imagine, my morning was full of diapers, feeding the little lady breakfast, playing like crazy and caring for the little life I have in my hands. Though I had not had much rest the night before, I was still determined to use the baby's nap time to start working on the reading I need to knock out during the next semester, which starts in just a few weeks. Nap time is a great time to get school work done. I'm not sure how it happened exactly (humor me for a second and pretend I don't know), but as I lay on the couch at 10:30 in the morning, with my girl cuddling on my chest, suddenly there were two of us fast asleep.

     Later, as Ava began to stir, I groggily opened my eyes and peered across the room to try and make out the small numbers on the clock. I had not been sleeping long so I was convinced I would be able to start that reading. But as I focused carefully at the clock I realized I was completely in denial. The small numbers suddenly became huge; 2:00PM!! Yikes! Where did the last several hours go?! Did I really sleep with Ava for the entire nap time?

     To be honest, I nearly had a heart attack. Did I really let my gaurd down and sleep rather than doing school work? Almost as quickly as that thought rushed intrusively into my mind another very quiet one snuck in. I thought 'Man, I feel like a million bucks! That was seriously enjoyable.' For those of you who know me well, you know that I adore sleep. I'm not joking when I say I fall asleep at night with a smile on my face. It's sick, really. It's a part of who I am. Nevertheless, wasn't that a few hours of laziness?

     I began to think for the last day or so about all of the things we deny ourselves because it may make us feel lazy, unfocused, or as if we've let time slip away from us. In the world today, one minute is no longer measured by the number of seconds it contains, but rather by the quantity of things one can accomplish in a period of time. I'm afraid many of us have forgotten that it is okay to slow down and enjoy the simplest things in life. Was I wrong to have taken those few hours to care for my body and mind?

     Let me advocate something different from the guilt inducing thoughts that can easily stop us from enjoying life. Let me suggest that one of the best things we can do for ourselves is to stop and enjoy the little things in life. In the busyness of the Christmas season and the new year on the brink of showing its face, maybe stopping to enjoy a nap isn't being lazy, maybe it's learning to slow down and love life. Perhaps sitting down to sip a lovely latte rather than rushing out the door in the morning with coffee in hand with the only purpose of zapping us to life and functioning. There can be joy in so many things if we just take a moment to stop and enjoy. Is there no joy in pausing to enjoy a new pair of fuzzy socks? What about the joy of every single bite of a perfectly seasoned dinner? I believe there is great joy in the most nominal moments.

     My friends, I urge you; enjoy the little things this season (and always!). Feel the warmth of slipping on a pair of cozy socks on a chilly winter morning. Enjoy the company of those with whom you share a dinner. Embrace the laughter that comes when silly moments take place. Smile at the hand-drawn cards you receive around the holidays. Enjoy coffee or a hot tea, really enjoy it, for its flavor and warmth. Delight in that bit of dessert you've sworn off for the rest of the year. I don't know where you are today, or what your challenges and joys in life are today, but let me urge you to stop and enjoy.

     Sincerely, the simplest joys bring the most joys in life. Blessings this Christmas season to you and yours.

Mya's Heart

She stood silently glaring at the mirror. Leaning in closely she began to count; one, two, three, four...five. "Too many to count." she thought as she stared at all the blemishes that shown feircely all over her face. The mirror gawked at her; she hated her face. In fact, she hated everything about the way she looked. She focused on the dark circles under her eyes, then dug through her makeup bag looking for something, anything to cover up her face; to make her look beautiful.

Slapping on some foundation she sighed.

"Nothing's going to work today, is it? God, why do you let me look this terrible!? You know how much I want to look good...you know why I have to...Ugh, why am I even asking You? It's not like you care anyway."

Mya finished putting mascara and eyeliner on just as a hot tear began to form. She quickly grabbed a tissue and slammed it into the corner of her eye. She was running late and couldn't afford to have her make-up run now. She pretended to not know why she was crying, but deep down, all she wanted was to be loved. All she wanted was to feel like she was worth something. Glancing at the clock, she threw on her shoes and put her heart on her sleeve as a finishing touch. Then she ran out the door. "I can't be late to class again, today..."

Outside the cold air hit here face, and she picked up her speed. Somehow, even though it was cold, warmth spread throughout her body as she hurried across campus. Caught off guard she heard a familiar voice.

"Hey Baby! You comin' out tonight? You sure are lookin' fine!"

Mya just smiled, and nodded her head. She couldn't remember, "Was that Joe? Or wait, was it Jake?" It didn't matter, she knew what he was talking about. She went out every night. She always stopped at the bar first, then picked up a guy, then who knows what next...it didn't much matter to her. Secretly she wondered every night if he would be "the one." This night wouldn't be any different.

As she stepped into the classroom, she felt the stares from all around the room. Immediately she dropped her head and sat at the closest desk to the door. She wasn't late, but she knew everyone was staring at her anyway. Continuing to stare at the floor she slithered out of her winter coat revealing a tight, black, long-sleeved shirt. She slid her hands down beside her thighs and gently pulled her skirt down a little further. She felt awkward.

In front of her she noticed two guys leaned in and whispering. She knew what they were talking about; her. Before she knew it the one football player scribbled on a piece of paper and passed it back to her. Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the crumbled mess and inscribed on the notebook paper were the words "Meet me after class..." Again she took a deep breath, and it took all she had to hold back the tears.

The Professor began to talk and Mya quickly snapped back to reality. She tried hard not to think about the note, but deep down her heart was still stinging. She was lost, confused, and wishing she was anyone but herself. Before she knew it, her peers began to rustle and she knew that the class was over. Grabbing her things she rushed out the door and ran to the bathroom. Again the mirror haunted her as she fixed her make-up.

"Did you see Mya today?"

The words made Mya jump. She didn't even know anyone else was in there. Quietly she stood still, not making a sound. She listened carefully.

"Yeah, she's such a slut now. I wonder what changed. She used to be so smart."

"Did you know that she drinks every night now?"

"I know! I heard! Did you hear that she's slept with all the guys in her hall?"

"For real? I wouldn't doubt it!"

Mya sniffled softly as the accusations pierced her heart. She wanted to run out of the bathroom but she knew that the girls in the stalls would know it was her if she had...she froze.

"Shhh, did you hear something?"

"No, what?"

"I think someone's in here...I thought I heard someone sniffle..."

The toilets flushed and just as Mya felt faint and all the color left her face, the stall doors opened and the two girls stared blankly at her. Without a word they laughed and ran out of the bathroom. Mya stood, frozen in time, mortified.

A few moments later, Mya regained her composure and sulked out of the bathroom. "They don't know anything about me." she thought. "All I want is to feel loved. The right guy has GOT to be out there somewhere, and I'm going to keep looking. In the meantime, I'm just running into the bad ones first, right?"

The rest of the day flew by and soon it was time for her to go out to the bar. After making sure her make-up was perfect and her outfit was perfect, she double checked to make sure her battered heart still was securely fastened to her sleeve. She was ready to go out.

The rest of the night was a blur. She had definitely had way too much to drink, and she knew it. The next morning she woke up with the guy she had brought home lying next to her in her bed. She was used to this, so when she noticed that he had taken her heart off of the sleeve of the clothing she had been wearing, it was no surprise to her that he was ripping a piece of her heart off. While she knew every guy she had "been with" ripped a piece of her heart off, she couldn't bear to watch. She never could. If she ever would sneak a peak, it would feel as though her heart really was being ripped apart, so she closed her eyes.

After a minute or two she expected to no longer hear the ripping, but when the ripping continued, she could not help but look.

"What are you doing?!" she shouted! "That's my heart! You can't have it all!"

Mya's heart began to pound so rapidly that she thought it would pop out of her chest.

"STOP!!! You can't have that much!!"

The boy ripped off one more piece and jumped out of bed. He slowly got dressed. He still clutched her heart. Without a word, he opened the door and walked down the hall. Mya jumped up and wrapped a blanket around herself.

"HEY!!! Come back!! That's MY heart you have! What are you doing??!!"

Without even looking back the boy dropped the heart to the floor. "Take your stupid heart. It's not worth anything anyway."

As the heart floated to the ground, Mya could barely see it. It had gotten so small. She ran up the hall after him. She wasn't trying to catch him, she was trying to catch her heart before it hit the floor. Tripping over her blanket she fell to the floor, just as her heart hit the hard tile. Excrutiateing pain blasted through her body and she knew that this time she couldn't stop the tears. Quickly scooping up the tiny heart, she ran back to her room and closed the door.

"Why, why, why?? WHY do I ALWAYS do this??"

She cried out to God, wondering why. "If only You would be listening! If only the RIGHT one would come along! Why aren't you protecting my heart? Why don't you love me?? Ugh, here I am again, talking to a God that doesn't even care! I hate You!"

Day after day, Mya did the same thing over and over again, until there was nearly nothing left of her poor heart. She had worn her heart on her sleeve for so long, and now all she had left of the heart was almost gone. Each morning she woke up, another man had taken any part of her heart that she had given him; and all she could do was close her eyes and sob."God, please help me..."

One morning, Mya woke up to find a note under her door. "Probably another guy sending me some obnoxious note..." Her bare feet hit the ground and she drug them across the floor. Bending down, she realized that the note was in a bright red, sealed envelope. Ever so gently, as if not to shred the paper, she opened the tiny envelope. The scarlet red reminded her of her heart. As she opened the envelope, she saw something familiar. Inside lay a pasted together heart, just like the one she used to wear on her sleeve. There was only one small piece missing; it was the one she still had. As she reached up to her sleeve, she unpinned the remaining piece of the heart and slipped it in the empty place. She had a full heart now.

Just as she was about to put the envelope down, a small note slipped out and floated onto her bed. As she flipped the paper over, her eyes welled with hot, hot tears. In the most beautiful handwriting she had ever seen, she read the words: "I've heard your cries, I've seen every piece of your heart being ripped to shreds and I've caught every tear; every last one. And while you are lost and broken and hate yourself more than ever before, I have created for you a new, complete, and beautiful heart. And despite what you think; YOU ARE ENOUGH...And I love you so much. Don't be afraid, I am here..."

Mya didn't know what to think. She wondered where the note had come from, but in the depths of her sorrow, all she could muster up to say was "Thank you, God..." Mya peered out her dorm room window and wondered what she should do next. Without an answer, she simply held the new heart close to her chest, closed her eyes and began to feel it beat...

The King's Table

2 Samuel 9:1-8

1 David asked, "Is there anyone still left of the house of Saul to whom I can show kindness for Jonathan's sake?" 2 Now there was a servant of Saul's household named Ziba. They called him to appear before David, and the king said to him, "Are you Ziba?" "Your servant," he replied. 3 The king asked, "Is there no one still left of the house of Saul to whom I can show God's kindness?" Ziba answered the king, "There is still a son of Jonathan; he is crippled in both feet." 4 "Where is he?" the king asked. Ziba answered, "He is at the house of Makir son of Ammiel in Lo Debar."

5 So King David had him brought from Lo Debar, from the house of Makir son of Ammiel. 6 When Mephibosheth son of Jonathan, the son of Saul, came to David, he bowed down to pay him honor.
David said, "Mephibosheth!"

"Your servant," he replied.

7 "Don't be afraid," David said to him, "for I will surely show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan. I will restore to you all the land that belonged to your grandfather Saul, and you will always eat at my table."

8 Mephibosheth bowed down and said, "What is your servant, that you should notice a dead dog like me?"

This afternoon I was reading the story of Mephibosheth in 2 Samuel. It is a story I have read numerous times, but I got to thinking about it and was reminded again about this beautiful story. I've always equated the story to my life and my "eating at the Table" of the Lord. Did you ever think about it like this?

King David, looking for someone to bestow his kindness on, picks the least of these. King David chooses Mephibosheth, a crippled, lowly man who was lame in both feet. King David could have chosen ANYONE to bestow his kindness on, but he chose Mephibosheth. But why?

Let's look at it another way. God, our Father, could have chosen ANYONE to bestow his kindness upon, but He chose us! He chose us. Let that sink in for a minute or two. Can you imagine if He didn't choose us? Can you imagine if we were not invited to eat at the Table of the Lord like Mephibosheth was invited to eat at the table of King David? King David could have chosen to eat with other kings and royalty, but instead, he asked "Is there anyone left to whom I can show kindness?" When God looked across the world, He chose us, all of us who are His children to show His kindness to. Wrap your mind around that for a second...can you?

Mephibosheth was a cripple. Can you imagine the humble honor it was for him to eat with the King? The Bible tells us that Mephibosheth did not feel worthy enough to eat. He even calls himself a dead dog. I don't know about you, but I don't think there is too much more that can get worse or more worthless than being a dead dog. Mephibosheth, an unworthy man (at least in his own eyes) had the honor of dining with the king, and he realized that he was not worthy to sit at the king's table.

Am I worthy to sit at the King's Table? THE King's Table. I am crippled with sin...not worthy of even a glimpse of the Father's kindness; but HE has invited ME to the Table to eat with Him. I am the crippled Mephibosheth, but I am ridden with sin...much worse than a physical ailment. Am I worthy of sitting and eating with the King of Kings? I mean, I would not have been even worthy of eating at King David's table! What makes me think for a second that I can eat with my Heavenly Father?

In verse 7, King David tells Mephibosheth that he will always have a seat at his table. Mephibosheth will always eat with the king. This is a beautiful example of what the Lord does for us. We will always be welcome to eat at our Father's Table...crippled, wounded, or down and out, WE are invited to dine with the King. Yes, a King far greater than King David himself. And like Mephibosheth, we do not deserve such an honor. I DO NOT deserve such an honor.

Can you take this in for a moment? Will you accept the invitation to sit at the King's table for the rest of your days? Will you humbly come, and bow at His feet; realizing that He has chosen US to eat with Him and to have fellowship with Him...the Creator of the Universe. Now THAT just blows my mind! May you find yourself seated at the Table of the Lord today and always...and may you realize that none of us deserve such a holy invitation, but yet all of us are invited; good, bad, ugly, offensive...come as you are.

It Hurts, So Take It Away!

         There is an epidemic taking place here. With all the new technologies and science hitting each day, it can be very easy to become 'wrapped up' in the next new thing. Chronic illnesses are popping up everywhere, and we've got a pill for that! With growing medical technologies, we are hard pressed these days to find a disorder in which we can't at least manage the symptoms. Yes, we are far from 'cures' for a lot of diseases, but, we can at least make one's life more comfortable while dealing with the disease. Today, all one must do in America is walk into a doctor's office, complain of some symptom and he or she will be walking out with no more knowledge she had before going in, but about three more prescriptions than she had been taking before the visit. I admit, the 'pop a pill and find relief' thing is tempting. Life is hard, you know? If I can make it all better with one single pill, I'll be lining up for my prescription, and an extra two or so to get me through those sleepless nights. As if body altering drugs aren't enough, there has been a substantial rise in mind altering regimens as well! I feel slightly 'blue' for a day and all of a sudden I'm on a serious psychotropic medication that is supposed to lift my mood and take away my momentary blues.

 

        Now before you stop reading this blog, and assume I am completely against medication, would you give me just a few more moments of your time to explain myself? I am not about to go all organic on you and tell you that medication is of the devil and one should never take it. In fact, if you need it, take it! What I do want to address, however, is the need here in America to feel nothing, quickly rid ourselves of feelings that are less than enjoyable, and have instant gratification without doing the work to get better. This is the epidemic. The epidemic is not one of medication addictions (though that is a whole separate issue for a blog another day!), but rather, the epidemic is one of instant gratification.

 

        It only takes a moment to recognize this after spending less than ten minutes in a toy store filled with five year olds. I dare you to spend a few minutes observing what happens in Toys R Us. For those of you who don't have the time to take me up on this challenge, I'll spell it out for you quickly. Little Molly is in Toys R Us with her mommy and begins to throw a tantrum because she wants, well... she needs, one more doll. This doll is cooler because it cries and eats food. Little Molly screams because she can't bear one more day without this new doll...and what does Molly's mommy do? Of course little Molly, mommy knows that you must have that doll right this minute...otherwise Molly may have a deprived childhood with her five other dolls who only cry but don't eat food. And within seconds of Molly's tantrum beginning, this new doll is in the cart and paid for. All because Molly needed it. Take another example. This one may be slightly humorous, but just think about it. John has a friend who has a brand new flat screen television. It was love at first sight for John when he viewed the latest football game on his friend's amazing television. Within a few minutes, John has used his new iPhone to order the TV and will have it by the end of the week. Instant gratification.

 

        As I work and study in the psychological world, I see this epidemic reaching far into the lives of people everywhere. You don't have to look hard to find someone who is taking psychotropic medications in order to function on a daily basis. Is this wrong? No. If I have a heart problem, I am going to take the necessary medications to fix the abnormality. If I have a brain problem, I should do the same. Yet, I wonder if there is more to this than just popping a pill.

 

        Let's take a minute to break this all down further. Perhaps my heart problem is a direct result of something mechanically wrong with my heart. Maybe I have an irregular heart beat that needs to be regulated by medication. I should take the medication and move on with my life. There is nothing more I can do to fix the problem. But, what if my heart problem is high cholesterol because I am eating cheeseburgers every day and never exercising? I would suggest, that it would behoove me to quit eating the burgers and perhaps pick up an exercise routine. Will this solve everything? Maybe not, but it will do a great deal to fix my problem! My heart condition is a physical problem which may take some hard work to fix, but can be greatly improved if I am willing to put in the work.

 

        Now, what about my brain? What if I am consistently experiencing depression, day in and day out? I eat junk food consistently and never leave my warm, cozy bed because I just like to watch TV all day long. Anyone with that sort of routine would become depressed. I could take a pill that may help significantly and maybe that little pill will take away the pain I feel, but it won't fix the problem. It will only fix the symptoms. What if, instead, I got out of bed and accomplished some things throughout the day and began eating healthier? What if that alone is enough to lift my spirits? It may be! It may not be.

 

 

        The problem in these two examples is not the disease that needs to be fixed with a little pill, but rather, it is the disease of instant gratification. Not many people in these conditions would want to spend the six weeks it will take to get healthier while the symptoms and the pain remain. Is medication bad? Absolutely not! Is medication a sign of weakness? No! Can medication be used incorrectly? Yes. medication can be used, unfortunately, to numb; to take away the pain so a person doesn't need to walk through the pain in his or her heart to find healing. It is a antidote that can be injected into the heart or body to stop the pain, but what if walking through the pain is what is necessary to cure the problem? Now, please do not misunderstand me. Not everyone who is on psychotropic medications is using it as a crutch to skip out on the heart and mind work that needs to be done.



 There are a lot of people who are taking these medications and really need to be. I am not advocating that these people get off of their medications, in fact, I don't advocate that anyone takes what I am writing and applies it to their own lives without consulting a doctor or professional who can take an in depth look at the specific case. I am only trying to address the fact that many people do escape from their problems with medication because it is less painful. To be honest, when I have a wound, I want it to heal as soon as possible. I don't like to have it hurt. Whatever I can do to make the pain stop, sounds enticing. I want to instantly feel better. That being said, each of us need to evaluate our motives behind medication. Life hurts and we all want the pain to go away, but by using a quick fix, our hearts will still be full of pain and hurt.

 

        My challenge is that each of you reading this would evaluate if you are as hooked on instant gratification as I am. Before you go for the quick fix, ask yourself what you are trying to avoid. There are many out there who seem to exhibit real biological problems with the parts of the brain that keep our minds from depression and anxiety. For a biological issue, take all the medications you need! If you are willing to do the work and still unable to find freedom from these burdens, medication may be necessary, but my challenge is to not run away from the healing work, but rather embrace it. Use medication if necessary, but remember to keep yourself healthy in other ways, work hard on your heart, and don't hide. Hiding only makes the pain worse.

 

*I'm completely open for debate, so don't take  my word for it here! Let's discuss! :)

Long-suffering: Will You Meet Me?

        In a world today that is full of slogans and techniques such as "Lose twenty pounds in one month!", "Get a trim body in just ten days!", and "Quit smoking with the help of this wonder pill", it's no wonder that people get slightly uncomfortable with waiting for results for anything. The world is at our fingertips. I can 'Google' anything I want and have answers in just seconds to whatever question has been plaguing my mind. I can bake a cake in just half the time if I use a box mix, or I can hop on a plane and be thousands of miles away in a few short hours. What's more, I can control half of my life with the push of a button on my laptop. Nearly anything I want, can happen with little to no effort. But what happens when life throws into the mix something that cannot be taken care of immediately. What happens if something so intense happens in life and we are left with the reality of picking up the pieces to a five thousand piece jigsaw puzzle called life?

        The topic of trauma is often one that no one wants to touch with a ten foot pole. No one wants to be the one to pick up that puzzle of life and put it all back together. It's messy; it's hard. The truth is, life is hard enough, but what happens when heartbreak and anxiety hit us out of nowhere? Further, what happens when something complicated happens in a world that tries to simplify and uncomplicate even the simplest things in life? Trauma cannot be simplified.

        The process of dealing with trauma is messy. It takes time and long-suffering. Many of us don't know what to say or do. What do you say to someone who just lost a child? What do you say to someone who has experienced the death of a spouse or loved one? Are there any words to describe the pain of hearing the diagnosis of cancer? All of these things are traumatic and don't fit into that 'box cake' we all love to use. None of these things are easily digested, and none of these things can be dealt with quickly. So what is there to do?

        As I pondered these questions when a friend shared some deep traumas with me that were wreaking havoc on her family's life, all I could do was meet her in her pain. I didn't have words for her. I didn't have some sort of wisdom to share that would ease her pain or take the problem away. All I could do was be there to help her put the pieces back together again. Sometimes we don't even know what that looks like, but i would suggest that simply being there to listen, love, and support in any way possible are good starts. However, the biggest way to help someone put their life back together again is just simply being a good listener and allowing that person to share there story in their time, in their way, and in the pain of it all.

        The second thing I think is vital is to allow the person suffering to take as much time as needed to work through the trauma experienced. So many times, I think our society expects people to 'get over' difficult things quickly and cleanly. But the truth of the matter is, sometimes it takes a long time for the pain to subside. What works for one person may not work for another, and that's okay. By removing the expectations of quick recovery, the sufferers are free to work through every angle of the trauma and find healing in their own timing. This is essential.

        Finally, finding a 'new normal' is essential to healing after trauma. A person may never function the way he or she did before the trauma, and that's okay. We need to remember that everything that happens in life has the potential of changing who people are. If a runner loses his leg, no one would expect the runner to run again. So why, when dealing with a person who has gone through trauma, do we expect a person to function just as they have in the past? What if their amygdala is broken? (This is an important lesson I learned from a professor, Dr. Monroe) We need to be very understanding and also assist those who suffer trauma to find that new normal necessary to finally move on (whatever that looks like!).

        So let us join our friends and family in suffering. And though we may not have the words to say, or some profound wisdom that will take the suffering away, but at the very least, we have all experienced suffering and know what it is like to be in the midst of unbearable pain. These experiences alone can give us the understanding needed to walk with someone else through their pain and trauma. Let's not forget to meet those suffering where they are and to walk with those around us as long as it takes to find true healing. We are all in this together!

Imagination: A Single Touch



         Have you ever felt like life was just spinning out of control and there seemed to be nowhere to run for help? I know I have. As I think back on those times in life, I innevitably found myself in a place that I just wished I could find relief. It seems we have all felt that pressing desparity for hope. That moment when you literally think you cannot go on. Or what about times in our lives when loneliness sets in and we feel beyond empty, just wishing someone would notice; just wishing someone would hold us in their arms and tell us everything would be okay and that they were here for us. We all know what it is like to 'walk through the valley of the shadow of death' and we all know that sometimes life is lonely and filled with pain and suffering that makes us feel as though we can't take one more step forward. We have all felt hopeless. And if we are believers, we have all felt like if we could just feel Jesus' touch, we would be much better off.

         I wonder if that is how the woman with the bleeding problem (Mark 5:25-29) felt; lonely, out of hope, and needing to encounter Jesus in a real and physical way. I wonder if the paralyzed man who was lowered into a home through the roof just to meet Jesus face to face (Mark 2:1-12) felt a sense of relief the moment he saw Jesus' face because he knew that his suffering would be over. I wonder if the blind man's anxiety and pain went away the moment he felt Jesus touch his eyes with the mud he had created to put on the man's eyes (John 9:1-11). This man, who had spent his whole life unable to see, dependent on the mercy of others; what was that moment like for him? What is it like to be touched, physically touched by Jesus?

         I remember lying in bed one night desperate to know God's peace; desperate to feel like He was there with me. As I closed my eyes, I just imagined what it would be like if Jesus could just reach out and touch me. What would it feel like to touch the hem of His garment for a split second? What would it feel like to reach out my hand and find Him there in the darkness of my room? What would it be like to be wrapped in the perfect love of God's embrace? If only I could feel Him as physically here as the woman who touched the hem of His cloak. If only I could feel Him touch my face the way the blind man had. If only I could feel His hand touch me and heal me. What if I could know Him that way?

         When I imagine what it  will be like to be completely lost in Christ's embrace and to feel Him touch my face and look into my eyes with all of His overwhelming love, I imagine the day when I will one day see Him in all His glory. I imagine the day when I meet my maker and I can't even begin to fathom what that will look like. This world can often feel lonely and pressing. We can often feel that if Jesus was physically here we would be more comforted and things would be much better. I admit, that sounds incredible, but I know that this side of Heaven, I can know Him even without Him physically before me. The truth is, Jesus is more real today than the covers that cover my body when I am tucked in bed at night. I may not physically see Him, but I know He is there.

          So dream with me friends, about the day that we will be able to know what it is like to feel Jesus' embrace and to know what it must have felt like to be someone in great need and to experience a touch from God Himself. Imagine that day, standing in glory when we see the King of Kings exalted on high. And suddenly, the old is gone, the new has come. May the thought of one day being touched by Jesus Christ and completely healed of all things in need of healing comfort you today. May you know that though no one is physically around you, you are not alone. May His love overtake you and may you find healing in the one who loves you infinitely more than you can imagine. The problems and pain of this world will not disappear until He returns again, but know that with just one touch, He can bring healing and new life. Be blessed and find healing in Him.

        

Inside My Muddy Heart

This weekend, I had the privilege and the honor of
being at a retreat with my cohort in the M.A. in
Counseling program, through Biblical Theological
Seminary. To say that it was an honor was no
exaggeration. It was a weekend full of learning,
introspection, and serious focus on who each of us
are and how that will affect our counseling. It was
so awesome.

"What is in your heart will come out in the counseling room."

One of my professors at Biblical reiterated this at our retreat several times this weekend. I couldn't help but to let such a statement hit me hard in the heart. It hasn't taken long in this counseling program to show me that. It seems like every week when I walk into class I need to ask myself what sore subject will be talked about this week. It's as if I need to bring my rain boots to school each week because I know I will be trudging through the 'mud' that has somehow made it's way into my own heart. The process is both daunting and refreshing all at the same time.

As I began to mull over this statement, by Dr. Jenn Zuck, I knew that no matter how much I wanted to deny this, it was a true statement. I knew that I was going to need to work on my heart issues before I would be able to effectively help counselees in the future. A moment of panic swept over me as I realized that there was no way that I would have time to 'clean house' by the time I had graduated the program. Was I going to be an effective counselor with such a damaged and mucky heart? We've all got our baggage, right? I hope I'm not the only one.

I thought about the impact of things that have happened in my life in the past. How would they affect my counseling? How have they already affected my life, who I am, and how I view others and the world. I know they have. At first I wanted to deny that my 'junk' would affect my counseling career, but I discovered, I couldn't deny it. If I was going to be an effective counselor, I will need to be ready and willing to sit in the mud pit with my counselees to walk them through their struggles but at the same time, not allow my life experiences and my own selfish heart to get in the way. But how?

Throughout the day, I came to the conclusion that I will need to identify the weaknesses in my heart and constantly be aware of them. I am going to have to look at the muddy parts of my heart and discover how my perspective is going to affect my counselees. I need to constantly be asking myself, 'Why am I reacting the way I am? Why am I doing what I am doing? Is this for my own satisfaction or my counselee's healing?' I need to be aware of my own heart and what is happening in it. If I am not, I have the great potential of harming the very people I have set out to help.

I love to help people; my friends, family, coworkers, or even strangers. As I look at all the relationships I have, I wonder if I can apply this concept of examining my heart before I speak to my every day relationships. The truth is, I wonder how many times I've tried to help someone but instead have hurt them in real life because of my own selfish desires and motives. How many times have I set out to help someone only to find that I was filling my own selfish desire to be loved and accepted. How many times have I tried to dig someone out of a hole, working hard to save them when they didn't want or ask for my help. What desires have I fulfilled in that process?

The truth is, I think we've all had the experience of trying to help someone and in the process have done more damage to the one we are trying to help than we set out to do. I wonder if what is happening in our hearts doesn't only affect our counseling, but also affects our relationships throughout all of life. Maybe my need to be perfect causes me to expect perfection out of other people, who like me, cannot ever be perfect this side of Heaven. Maybe my need for love and acceptance drives me to say yes to all of the activities and ministries I am asked to do, but my heart isn't really in those things, and I end up doing them less than joyfully. How many times have I taken my frustrations out on my spouse, even when those frustrations have nothing to do with him?

It's very easy, I think, to allow our hearts to spill out onto other people. We mask our bleeding with all sorts of excuses. We often forget that what we say and what we do has the potential to affect others immensely. Life sometimes becomes all about us and we wield our opinions and thoughts around like a sharp sword but are blind to the fact that the sword has just sliced someone else's heart open.

Life is hard. Sometimes we don't know what to do. But perhaps one of the most important things we can do is constantly examine what is happening in our own personal hearts before we try to figure out what is happening in someone else's. We need to remember that the condition of our hearts will affect how we view others and how we respond. Just as counselors have a great potential to harm their counselees, each individual has the potential to harm those in the world surrounding.

Being sensitive and identifying my own selfishness can help me to be the best counselor I can be, but I'm also convinced that it can help me to be the best person I can be. I think all of us are here to help heal others, not to hurt. All my life I've heard people say 'You cannot give what you do not have.' I think I finally understand what that means. Life is hard, but I cannot begin to help someone find healing if I haven't found it myself.

So before you say that next 'big thing' to someone, think about your motives. Before you try to rescue someone from there pain, I beg you, take a look at your heart and recognize that if your heart isn't filled with good things, you will not give good away. If your heart is not filled with love, you will not love properly. If your heart is not filled with compassion or hope or joy or peace, you will never be able to give it away. Be careful with the hearts of others.

Standing in the Space of Injustice

 For some time, something has been heavy on my heart. As I stare into the eyes of these children, I can hardly handle the silence that fills the air. No one wants to talk about it. It isn't that no one cares, but it makes us uncomfortable, and so we ignore it. When it is brought up, we quickly change the subject. We look around nervously as we quickly sweep it under the make shift rug, hoping to hide the facts before anyone notices that we really are informed. It's easier that way. We don't have to be responsible if we pretend as if we never knew. But we do know, and yet we still turn a blind eye.

Let me tell you a story. Let me shed some light.
*It is estimated that there are approximately 27 million slaves around the world. *According to some estimates, approximately 80% of trafficking involves sexual exploitation, and 19% involves labor exploitation.* Around half of trafficking victims in the world are under the age of 18. *  There is only one shelter in the U.S. designed specifically to meet the needs of trafficking victims, and it currently only houses a total of seven to nine victims. * Approximately 20,000 Individuals Are Trafficked INTO The United States per year. * The average age of a trafficked victim is 12-14 years old.

If you aren't stunned, I think there is something wrong with you. These facts are a part of the story of every trafficked little boy and girl (or adult, but I want to focus on the children for now). I wonder how I ever slept at night unscathed by the horrors of what is going on around me. How could I sleep at night not thinking about the little ones who lie on a brothel floor, shivering in the cold. How could I crawl into bed at night knowing that I had a full belly of the finest foods, but somewhere in the world, these little ones are going to sleep in a dirty cell with no food. This is real life. We don't like to talk about real life.

To be honest, maybe some of us are bothered by this information. Maybe a handful of us are actually willing to talk about it. But I wonder, are we willing to DO anything about it? Let's take it a step further. Maybe we are willing to talk about it AND do something about it...what is there to do? I can't say that I know the answer to that, but let me share a little bit more about what I have learned. 

Recently, I came across a statistic (for the life of me, I can't remember where I saw it, but I'm sure you could find it online if you searched) that stated that over half of the children who are trafficked each year are orphans. This makes a lot of sense to me. In a class I took in college, which was specifically about human trafficking, I learned that a lot of children being trafficked are promised a better life by the trafficker. The children believe that they will be taken to the city and given a good job. They believe that though they are orphaned, they will be able to survive with a job. The children put their trust in the trafficker, not knowing what will really happen to them. Before long, however, these young ones find themselves locked in a room being brutally abused, unable to escape. Horrid. What happened to their 'dream' of a better life?

 

 

As I think about these little ones, my heart is ripped out of my chest and I feel as though all of the blood my body contains is seeping out of my chest. I am horrified by the injustice that these little ones face. I get this image of running up to a brothel door, kicking it down and standing in the space between the little girl who huddles on the ground and the man who is about to injure not only her body, mind, and spirit, but rather a man who is going to seer her soul and change the course of her life forever. I see the image of a rescuer filling the space between captivity and freedom, taking literal blows to the face, nearly dying but still shouting, 'You will not touch her! I will take her place! I will take her place! Set her free!'. I see a saint bravely picking up those children and rushing into the sunlight outside, dodging bullets to save thier lives.  Who will stand in that void? Who will fill that space? Who is willing to take a blow for her? I want to be.

 

 

Over the past several years, I have felt as though God has put a calling on my life to go into a career and ministry of counseling. I never really knew what part of that I wanted to work in. I love kids, so for a time I thought I would be effective working with children. For a season I thought I could be effective working with families, because I believe in strong families and want to be used in that aspect. But I knew where I was being led...I just didn't want to go. I told God I would do whatever He wanted, but I did not want to work with victims of trauma. That could get too messy; that could be too much for my heart to handle. That was some heavy junk to deal with. But I could not get away. I could not get these thoughts out of my head. I couldn't stop thinking about those who have dealt with the most horrific traumas. I kept thinking about how we, as humans, often like to put messy circumstances and experiences in little boxes, store them in the attic and never peer into the boxes again. I like to do that. I am human. I want things to be nice, clean, pretty, and easy to look at with little effort in the way of healing. I cannot run any more.

 

So here I am, knowing that I have a call on my life to get into the messy situations; to deal with the things that no one wants to talk about or acknowledge. It has never been more clear to me than it is now. I suppose my call has always been clear, I just didn't want to listen. But here I am, ready to kick down some doors, blow the lid of this box of messy horrors and throw all the papers out of the attic window. I cannot sit back and say that people matter to me if I am not willing to care for the least of these. If I am not willing to care for the orphans, the widows, the sexually exploited children, the ones who could never repay me monitarily, than my work is in vain. I must pursue the call that is placed on my life. I want nothing more than to be that person that God sends into the darkest places of this world.

 

When I was a young girl, I used to pray to God "Lord, please send me to proclaim your name to the most dangerous parts of the world. Send me to the scariest parts of the world to bring Your healing to the brokenhearted and the weak." I never knew, as a little girl, that God would grow a passion and desire so intense I could not quench it. I never knew that God would ask me to sit down and hear the stories of horrific tradgedies; things no human being should ever go through. I don't entirely know where to start, but maybe my start is now. Maybe my start is realizing that I can no longer keep silent on a topic that no one wants to talk about or do anything about. Frankly, I am tired of apathy.

 

Here is my plea: That we would begin to care for other human beings as if they were our own children being ripped to pieces. That we wouldn't just sit back and talk about how sad things are, but rather that we would do something. I pray that I will go running to bind the wounds of the broken and bring rest to the minds of the weary. I pray that I would be bold and stand in the space of injustice, willing to take the force of the hits meant for another.

 

I may not know the way now, but I will find one...this is my declaration: I will not rest until I have served in this capacity...too many lives are at stake!

Untamed Blessings

     It's been a few years since I felt like I was dying but the difficulty and the pain are still fresh in my mind. The agony of pounding on Abba's chest still haunts me and the silence in the midst of severe trial sometimes leaves me feeling chilled. However, on the other side of this raging river of hell on earth, I've experienced what I like to call 'untamed blessings.'

     Many of you may know the story of my battle with Lyme Disease. Left undiagnosed by numerous doctors (for years!), when the diagnosis finally came at fourteen, my family and I were both relieved and afraid. They were years of exhaustion, several missed days of school, intense pain in my body and fevers so ferocious that it wasn't uncommon for me to be wearing a sweatshirt in ninety degree weather. The feeble state of my body (and spirit) by the time I was diagnosed was such that the doctor who diagnosed me was highly concerned about me. Dr. Fein, (whom I am convinced is the BEST doctor this earth has seen) got right to work. I would need intravenous medication multiple times a day and a picc line inserted into my arm immediately. There was no time to waste, so literally, within one week of a diagnosis I was in her office again having my IV line put in my arm. There I was, fourteen, unable to function like a fourteen year old girl and unable to do the things a normal teen could do. I was devastated to say the least.

     Devastation not only hit my body and made me feel crippled, but it also took over my mind. All I wanted to do was die and I wondered why God would make me go through such a horrid disease. I remember waking up one night in particular having absolutely no idea where I was. While this happened several times during my battle with Lyme, I woke up this particular night in a panic. In the darkness of my room I began to search for something familiar. My hands became clammy and sweat began to form on my chest. Where was I? Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the dull glow of my small fish tank in my room and my mind was eased. I was safe in my room. The panic subsided for that night, but as I lay awake in the darkness, I wondered if the feelings I experienced were feelings that an elderly dementia patient would feel...always kind of 'lost'. My mind wandered to several places that night, and ever so softly,  I began to speak to God.

     It started in my head and became a dull whisper. I said 'God, I don't want to die...' as I struggled to forget about the intense pain my entire body experienced. Again, a soft whisper floated out of my gently parted lips 'What did I do wrong, God? Why is this happening? I'm trying to be good, I really am. I swear.' Tears began to form in the corners of my eyes and ever so lightly began to roll down my face. 'I just...I just don't understand' I said so softly it was barely audible. I waited for an answer; as if I believed God would speak to me in a loud beaming voice. I expected the normal answer that everyone around me had been giving me saying, 'Oh honey, you'll feel better soon...I'll pray for you!' Silence. It was so quiet I swear I could have heard a pin drop on my carpeted floor. The only noise I heard was my breathing. As I turned over to my side, I gave up on hearing God say anything and attempted to sleep. But I couldn't. After what seemed like hours, I finally dozed off as I attempted to figure out what I had done to deserve being this sick. It was all my fault and I knew it. Somewhere deep in my heart I knew God loved me but intellectually I felt like He had spat in my face. Somehow, in the midst of all my confusion, I continued to seek God. I was hoping for some answers.

     Several months passed with many experiences like the one I just described. In the midst of being sick, I faced tragedy all around me. There is literally too much to recount but I watched one grandfather face open heart surgery and another deal with the brutal disease ALS and pass away suddenly. I watched my great grandmother go through breast cancer, a young friend pass away from a brain cancer, and the loss of my horse. Each thing hit me harder than the last and til it was all said and done, the devastation of all of these things and even more, I was left wishing I had never even existed. Sure, I believed God created me for a reason but I began to look at Him as if He was playing chess with my life. I began to believe that He got some sort of pleasure out of my pain and that somehow I was too sinful and that's why He had brought all these trials into my life. Of course I grew up in church and had heard so much about 'trials' and 'God's love' and 'grace' and 'mercy,' but as far as I was concerned, God was a God of love but He just didn't love me. I felt unworthy, unloved and broken beyond repair, but most of all, I was angry. Very angry.

     My journey with Lyme (well, the worst of it) lasted over two years. With over twenty months of IV treatment, sometimes three times a day, I tried to live life as normally as possible...whatever that is. I finished high school and entered my first year of college. Because of my school schedule and IV medication, I would wake up every morning at 5AM, hook the IV to my picc line - which transported the meds directly to my heart - in order to make it to class by 8AM. I pretended I was happy and some days I really was, but deep down I felt wounded by God.

One morning in particular, I remember waking up at 5AM and complaining to God. I was tired and didn't want to get out of bed to get my medication or hook up my IV. In a gruff voice (thank God I didn't have a roommate!) I said 'You know, God, this sucks!! I don't want to get up and do this!! Can't you just heal me already?! I think I've done enough 'sick' time by now!' I scoot out of bed, yanked the refrigerator door open and slammed it shut. 'I HATE this!' I thought. Again, I yelled at God; 'This isn't fair! How could you do this to me?!' God answered. Out of nowhere, God spoke. He said 'Do what?' Furious at the question I felt Him asking I threw the IV bag on my bed. 'THIS!! Why did you let me get so sick! And for this long?!' 'Because I trust you.' 'You trust me?!?! What a stupid response! Trust me to be sick?' 'No.' 'Then what?! Trust me with what?!' 'I trust you with this gift.' All of the air suddenly left the room and I struggled to breathe.

     Fury danced in my eyes as I glared at the IV and tube sticking out of my arm. I quickly retorted to God's answer: 'If this is Your opinion of a gift, take it back!!! I don't need it!! What kind of gift is being deathly sick?!' Once again hot, fiery tears fell from my eyes. They were angry tears; frustrated tears. I couldn't understand. All I wanted was the pain to stop. I just wanted to be normal...so I told God that. Spirit broken I plopped on my bed and silently hooked up my IV. 'But I just want to be normal for once, God. I just want this to be over...' Again, God spoke. In the most gentle, most calming way, God said to me 'Kaitlyn, I didn't call you to be normal...I chose you to be greater than normal.' And I wept.
I wept because I didn't understand. I wept because I was heartbroken and didn't know how to be whole again. I wept because for a moment I remembered that God had a plan for me (Jeremiah 29:11). I wept because I knew I shouldn't have been worried (Philippians 4:6). I wept because God chose me. I wept because for the first time in so long, I actually felt the love of God in a new way. I just wept. Somehow, in the midst of it all, that day changed me. Did I instantly understand? No. Do I totally 'get it' now? No, I don't think so, but now that I'm on the other side of this thing I can see more clearly now.

     Did you ever stop to ask God 'Why?' I know I sure did. It's so evident that in the midst of the things I described above and the rest of my journey through Lyme and the pain that surrounded it, God was still at work. It did something to me. Today, I am absolutely closer to God than I ever have been before. I've learned so much. I've learned that even in the midst of trials, God is still 100% loving and good. I've learned that sometimes God entrusts us with difficult things because He knows that with Him, we have the strength to come out the other side alive. I've learned that God is always trying to teach us something. For me, I learned how to be a whole lot more compassionate and empathetic. I've learned to listen and not speak. I've learned that through my sufferings, people can get a glimpse of Christ. I've learned that healing is possible and wholeness is possible after complete brokenness. I've learned that I am nothing, but Christ is everything. What I do today can bring Him the glory He deserves. I've learned that God is a God of forgiveness and not of punishment. I may sin daily, but God did not allow me to be sick as to punish me, but rather to bring me closer to Him. The list could go on and on as to the things that I've learned through my struggles with Lyme, but the biggest thing I've learned is that God is love and He's got a plan for me. He's got a specific plan to prosper me and I don't have to worry about tomorrow because He's already got tomorrow under control.

     People have asked me many times 'Why does God allow bad things to happen?' and I am convinced that it is meant to get both our attention and the attention of those around us. Maybe it's so we realize that our lives, without Him, are pointless and drudgery. Maybe instead of Him pushing us away, He wants us to come closer to Him in times of trial so He can show us first person how much He cares. Was I afraid? No doubt. Do I understand fully? Absolutely not. But what I do know is that despite the trials of life, I am closer to God than ever before and I am happier having had these experiences of growing with Him than if I hadn't ever had them. I know that He has chosen me for great things and in my suffering, I am blessed.

     I believe, that with the help of God, we can change this world for the better, but we must cling to the cross when death is near and dance in the shadow of the cross. Let us sing praises to Him in both the good times and difficult because our Savior lives. Let us hold fast to the garments of the King and know that we are under His protection. Let us look for the joy and the blessings in hardship. Perhaps, being a Christian isn't about going to church and giving to the poor and having all sorts of programs-these things are good, but rather, maybe being a Christian - a Christ follower - is about living our lives by the fire and in the flame or learning to exhibit Christ in a world full of untamed lions. Maybe, just maybe, those trials and difficult times we face are really just 'untamed blessings'...blessings in disguise...blessings far beyond our tame imaginations if we'll only surrender completely to Christ and allow Him to show us the plans He has for our lives. Yes, maybe we all need more 'untamed blessings' in our lives...

     Truth is, God understands our suffering and understands our legitimate cries for help. He also knows what is best for us. I believe that everything happens for a reason; that God has a marvelous plan for each of His children. I believe that His plan is best, even if I don't understand and that I don't have to worry about anything. God will take care of us. So in the midst of your suffering, cling to God. Don't be afraid...He is with you always. And trust me, on the other side of the trial, you'll find blessing beyond your wildest imagination.

May His face always shine upon you...