The Sacrificial Victim

Victim.
I have come to truly hate that word.
Because a true victim does not have a choice.
And they never deserve what they receive.

Have you ever had to watch your child walk through a trial so completely and heart-wrenchingly devastating, that you found yourself pleading with God? Desperate. Like you would do anything, ANY. THING. to just take it away. To heal their brokenness. To rescue them. To restore them to what they once were; carefree, joyful, without a worry in the world.

For some of us, our children are dealing with constant torment from others. (Being bullied is no joke.  It truly brings out the worst in people.)  For other children it is a traumatic life event that haunts their days. Maybe it's a family separation for their safety. Maybe an array of varying types of (mental, sexual, physical, verbal) abuse.  Maybe divorce of their parents, or the death of someone they loved. Or maybe it is the devastating moral failure of someone they respect(ed).  Maybe it is a series of poor choices that come with heavy and irreversible consequences.

Although we are all walking our very own path; all while our kids are simultaneously walking theirs...I am guessing that we all ask the same question.

Why?  Why do I have to watch them suffer?  Why can't I fix this?  Why aren't YOU fixing this, God?  Why aren't You taking their pain away?  I AM PLEADING YOU!!!!

But what if we (moms, dads, caregivers) had a choice....

Would we choose...

1.) ...what was best not only for the molding of our child's character after that of Christ, but also for the future of their role in the ministry that He began...no matter what that looked like....

OR

2.) ...what was easiest?

Ugh...gut punch.  That is a decision that I never want to make.  And, honestly, there is a good reason that God does not give us (parents) the option.  It's because we can not be trusted to choose what He Himself chose for His own son.  He chose what was best and never what was easiest.  And God's best plan for Jesus, has effectively changed the eternity of millions of lost and hurting people.  

To God, It. Was. Worth. The. Sacrifice.

Sacrifice.
It is something that we parents have to do often for our kids without a second thought.  We understand the role we are to play in their lives...and we give (more than we have some days) to ensure that their needs are met.  We take our cues from Christ and we give until we are exhausted and empty knowing, expecting, hoping, pleading that our Father will always fill us again.

What happens though, when the victim collides with sacrifice?  

What happens when the very act that made a person a victim...is what God uses to extend His heart's reach?  

And what happens to us, deep within our spirit, when God asks our child to be the sacrificial one?  

When He is using them to teach us just how faithful and omnipotent He is?  (Omnipotent defined: having unlimited power; able to do anything)
When His plans for their lives are more than we are imagining?  

When He is molding them through the pain of trial because only He has seen their life from beginning to end.  Only He knows who He has designed them to be, and what it will take to lead them there.  

Would we have ever have chosen for our child to sacrificially walk the road they are on...if that meant that God would use it for their future mission field?  If it meant that some day they would meet someone who IS where they WERE...and through their raw, messy, gut-honest testimony of God's faithfulness and goodness...they would BE LIVING PROOF that there is ALWAYS HOPE, for a future free of debilitating fear and heavy burden.  ALWAYS TRUTH, to cover and remove the weight behind the whispers of the enemy.  ALWAYS GRACE, to bring freedom from captivity of guilt and shame.  ALWAYS LOVE, after the trail of poor choice.

The sacrificial victim.  I know how impossible it seems to overcome.  I know how much it aches to watch.  I feel the sudden and uninvited flood of emotions that follow those 'past days' thought-patterns.  I am easily angered by the thought of the scheme that they enemy used to try to destroy my child.  

BUT GOD...
God has something that He has been desperately trying to teach me...and I have been so close to getting it.
SO. CLOSE.


There I sat, telling my wise counsel, of my recent Romans 8:28 moment.  I went into the conversation super excited to share how God had used my circumstance to speak life into another's story.  Romans 8:28 moments are those in which I help someone see what they are missing amidst their misery.  Because of where I am and what I've walked through...I have a credible word of encouragement to speak.  I am speaking as one who still flounders some days...but also one who is having way more strong days than weak ones.  (That was not always the case.  At one point, all I had was Sunday.  Sunday was my point of greatest strength...and every day after, was only barely above the point of drowning.) As I always say, these moments bring purpose to pain.  

I was genuinely happy to share my story, but within moments my smile quickly faded as my joy was syphoned out by sudden, crippling guilt.  God was speaking to my heart and my tears indicated that I was not there yet.  My brain wanted to be, but my heart was too afraid to let go and allow God's best plan to penetrate my pain.

If you have a few moments...please listen to The Unexpected Letter.  I could barely see the screen through my tears the first 4 times I watched it.  My favorite lines...

"I was not a victim of human plans

and I was certainly never a slave to you.

I am the victor." -Jesus

YES!!!!!  I am the victor.  I want to know, live, AND feel that...all of my days.  I want to scream it into the face of the devil and watch him cower away.  I know the God that I serve and I know that it is through the sacrifice of Jesus that my children will be victorious over every obstacle in their life.

God wants to know...do I trust HIM enough to say AND believe....that it was worth my child's sacrifice?  That God knew their hearts intimately and because of that He knew what they were capable of overcoming.  He knew that we would be struck down but not destroyed because of our collective faith in Him.  He knew that we would help each other through the low times where we felt as though the end of the torment was far off.  

Can I know that my child's ministry in his/her future will bring forth healing to the victims who are where they once were?

I can.

I do.

If my child reaches into the lives of the broken and offers them living water that forever changes their course of eternity...it is worth it.  The price was paid by a Savior that taught us how to sacrifice with eternal purpose.  And that is a heart I would love to teach my sons and daughter to imitate.

Expose him

Every so often we have to call the enemy out.

We have to call him by his name.

We have to remind him of who we are in Christ.

So that he never forgets.

But what about you and I? Is it possible that we could ever forget?

Is it possible that we could go through a day, that could turn to a week...that could then turn to waaaaaaaay longer than we'd like to admit...where our days just seem to wear us down. Weariness sets in and our fight is weak.

This is me today.  My fight is feeling weak...so what am I going to do about it?
Sleep more? -Yeah. Stinking. Right.
Complain less? -I wish!
Read a self-help book? -Who has the time?
Run away to Hawaii? -Um...yes please!!!!!!!!!!!

For real though. Back to reality...what can I do?  I can reach out to the women that God has placed in my life who help hold me up.  I can read the promises and truth in the Word of God.  I can scream pray. <-- Ever heard of it?

I don't scream pray often, but when I do, it. is. for. real! It is like praying...only much much louder and with more crazy "passion" because I am reminding the enemy Who he is messing with.  I am talking directly to the legion of demons that dare mess with a child of the King.  I am speaking life over the death that they taunt me with.  I am speaking truth over lies.  I get feisty...and I look ridiculous.  I am always alone...and I am usually driving.  But there, in my minivan, I become a warrior. A warrior who has come to fight the giant that knows his end.  And I love to remind him of the end. 
I. Win.


What about my our children?

Does the enemy know the sound of their voice?  Does he yet have a reason to fear it?

I want the enemy to hear my kids proclaim truth.  I want him to hear them pray for victory.  I want him to hear them war for their life, their family and their friends.  My kids can not live off of my faith.  It is not enough.  I want to enemy to watch them become exactly who he feared they would.  I want him to never forget that we. win.

If someone that you love comes to you in need, absolutely, pray over them. BUT...be sure that they also pray for themselves.  Encourage them to speak to that mountain in their life and accompany them as they boldly approach the Throne of Grace for themselves.  It may seem like a minor step...but I assure you...it is not.  The enemy needs to know who He is messing with...and that is the King above all kings.  Jesus.  If that is the only word that they can whisper...it is enough.

JESUS

"Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Hebrews 4:16

Faith is More Than Words

Have you ever gone through something so incredibly difficult that there were

simply 

no 

words

Nothing that was offered seemed to be of any real help. Even though you knew that the intent of each person's hearts was pure, and you knew that their purpose was to uplift...somehow before their words could pierce through to your heart...it was as if they had already lost their life.

This is how many hours in my days have been over the last few months.

Numb.
Unable to participate in regular, every day life because it felt far away and impossible.
Many well-intended words from friends/family that seemed barely valuable enough to let sink in.

I've thought about becoming distant from everyone.
I've wanted to just pick up my family and drive away.
I've longed to forget.
I've screamed at the devil for how utterly awful and absolutely ruthless he is.
I've been selfish with my thoughts and prayers.

Over and over I have magnified the scheme of the enemy INSTEAD of choosing to focus on the power of the cross.

Where do we turn when words suddenly seem empty? How can we combat an enemy who wants us forever silenced? How do we fight off the pull of darkness when the usual fluffy spiritual answers just aren't leading us to hope this time?

I've never claimed to have it all together. I'm sorry if this comes as a surprise to you. Some days I crumble under pressure. Those days, I doubt if I will ever know better. I fall and I fail. And sometimes, sometimes...I get knocked down while completely unsuspecting. I get blind-sided by something that I could. not. have. seen. coming...and my faith is tested. The war becomes glaringly, in-my-face, real...and I find that I am very much in it.

Will I win...or will I give in? 

The first seems harder than the other. 

The latter offers ease, accompanied by empty promises. 

It is my choice. It always is.

I am turning to worship. Some days I cry while I sing...because my efforts seem feeble. Some days I don't feel a difference...because somehow I am still choosing to focus on me. Some days I smile and almost laugh while I worship...knowing that the enemy is furious and cowering. Some days I gain strength while I praise my King. Those days I stand firm in my calling...and I wish to be no where else.

I am turning to Truth. Even when I don't feel like it...I am finding Truth in the Word of God to cling to. On the days that I can't feel that Truth...I still believe. I know better than to trust how I feel. I'm a mess. He's the Maker. I trust His inspired Word over my thoughts! And He is revealing His truth loving, living, speaking people to me. It is a hard lesson to learn. I did not ask for it. I did not pray for it. But I will remain thankful for it.

And I am turning to you. You, who have been led to read this little blog of mine. I am asking for your prayer. The road that I have found myself on is hard. Not impossible...but hard. I don't know how to walk this road. I can't see the end of it. I am fairly confident that the end is far off. I can only see where I am. Some days seeing where I am is overwhelming.

If I have not love...I have nothing.
If I have not hope...I have less than God has for me.
If I have not peace amidst this storm...I am believing the whisper of the enemy over the proven Truth of Christ.

My strongest days are Sunday. My favorite days are those spent with the ones I love MOST! As for today, I will choose to win. Giving up is not an option. I have too many people who will go to war for me. I am loved...and I am thankful for that.

I will see Romans 8:28. It will become evident. I will listen closely for the voice of God to continue to lead me when I am looking...and I will feel the Hand of God guide me when I am struggling to focus.

I will win. Truth will win. I need only be still and know that I serve the One and only True God.

He is enough for me.

Living in a World of Inappropriateness

One thing I say often....that I honestly never knew before having kids...is that they would teach me. Most times it is not something that I never knew...but rather something I forgot. Maybe a better way to say it, would be to say that they often remind me to have the same good morals I ask of them and to do all things with a more pure way of thinking. I didn't realize that my kids would constantly be asking hard questions; that would in turn keep me in line without them even realizing it. And I never knew that taking the time to see the view from where they are...would, more often than not, show me a perspective that radiated Christ.

One thing that my kids love to do is help me check out at the store. They fight...literally fight...over who gets to put the most things on the conveyor belt. Then they race to the other end and begin loading the cart back up with the bags full of groceries...in a quick...I don't care if your bread gets squished-I will do this before anyone else gets a chance to...type of manner. It keeps them occupied. It keeps their little unsatisfied eyes away from all of the candy, pop, toys, and beef jerky that the grocery store staff so cunningly place in the isle of our Wal-mart. So, I break up the squabbles as needed...and let them go.

A couple weeks ago I had my three youngest children with me. Ariel-8, Titus-6 and Levi-4; loaded up the groceries to be purchased as normal. But then they stayed at the back of the cart. I thought it was unusual...but since I was buying bread that had not yet been squished...I decided to let them be. They were behaving. They weren't handling all of the candy and toys and looking to me to buy it all. They were talking. Like normal little people. (I love it when they act, within view of the public eye, as though we normal!!!!) 

I looked back at them again and noticed something strange. My daughter had her arm oddly stretched across the end of the isle. After getting her attention, I asked what she was doing. She looked at her two little brothers and then back at me. She slightly lifted her hand from the magazine it rested on, while still watching her little brothers and shielding it from their view. She looked up at me, widened her eyes and mouthed one word. "Inappropriate!". I looked under her little hand and saw the massive amount of cleavage she was covering. I mouthed back two words. "Thank you!"

This world is full of inappropriateness. FULL! Commercials. Magazines. Ads on YouTube. Movies. Billboards. Christians. Ugh...it hurts me to type that last one. But alas...it is sadly true. The enemy will use anyone and anything to put seeds of inappropriate thoughts into a child's head. My children are constantly confused by how some people choose to speak/act/dress while claiming to be a Christ-follower. I want my kids to be sensitive to such things. To set their standards high no matter what is popular, accepted and easy.

I am the one who has to answer a lot of their hard questions. I am the one who is desperately trying to teach them to freely give grace WHILE still refusing to lower their own, self-set standards. I pray protection over their eyes, hearts and minds. I even go as far as to avoid 'repeat offenders' of inappropriate talk/dress/behavior when my kids are with me. They. are. mine. and more importantly...they were His before I ever knew them. I take my position, to equip them with a base of Godly morals and good character, very seriously. 

There is no guarantee that they will turn out well by chance. That is just not how life works. We are to live life purposeful and conscious. My children will have traits of Christ because I relentlessly prayed for them in the most secret places of my heart. They will know what it means to be a genuine Christian because my husband and I taught them the best we knew how. Because we led with our lives rather than our dictation. Because when we messed up, we asked for forgiveness...from our kids and from our Father.

My kids are setting their standards higher than I did as a child. I love to watch them choose what they are unwilling to allow into their life. Sometimes it is their own friend who makes them uncomfortable by the things they choose to do/say/watch. Sometimes it is an adult who dresses in a way that is scant. Sometimes it is an unwanted, non-Mom-approved advertisement that pops up while they are waiting for the newest TobyMac video to load. Sometimes it is a movie that has what they deem as evil. I give them room to choose. I respect their choice.

I'm raising up a generation in my house. A generation of leaders. Of servants. Of bold warriors. A generation that prays. That loves. That forgives. Because when I forget....they will remind me. <3

On That Day, I Married...

The one who would be my first love.
The one who would be my last boyfriend.
The one who would be my only husband.

The one who would know how to push my buttons.
The one who would never stop making me feel beautiful.
The one who would push me to succeed.

The one who would hug me tight when the world broke me.
The one who would kiss me softly when the world hated me.
The one who would tell me the truth when the world lied.

The one who would watch me struggle through loss.
The one who would give me my dream of life...to mother a child.
The one who would see me fail and still choose to love.

The one who would teach his sons about the life of a man.
The one who would take his daughter on her first date.
The one who would learn to love hugs and kisses from little hearts.

The one who would love to be present for every Christmas gift purchased for his children.
The one who would watch countless children's movies just to hear his kids laugh.
The one who would bring home pizza and make the house squeal with more excitement than necessary.

The one who would see all the worst of me.
The one who would rarely get my humor.
The one who would make. my. day. if he laughed at my joke.

The one who would quickly become my forever favorite worship leader.
The one who would prove to me that I could do things I doubted.
The one who would see me through a different set of eyes.

The one who would provide for his family.
The one who would serve at his church.
The one who would pray for anyone who asked.

The one who would do as Jesus did.
The one who would walk with confidence like few others.
The one who would say only what he meant.

The one who would hate the phone and always call while he was gone.
The one who would text me, from the couch, to bring him a Pepsi.
The one who would not enjoy reading, but still encourage me to write.

The one who would write songs for his King.
The one who would sing with more passion than I ever knew he was capable.
The one who would be gifted more than most people would ever take the time to know.

The one who would teach me.
The one who would help mold the best me.
The one who would speak highly of me.

The one who would (Nerf) sword fight me in the kitchen (and break a glass) to make the kids laugh.
The one who would have to tell me when he was flirting because it was always painful. (Haha!)
The one who would wrestle his children on the floor.

The one who would think constantly.
The one who would be spontaneous if he was in the mood.
The one who would spend and re-spend $ many times in his head before ever entering the store.

The one who would be capable of almost anything.
The one who would say (and believe) that he was invincible.
The one who would hurt easily, but hide it well.

The one who would submit.
The one to whom I would submit.
The one who would stand alone, if it was for what was right.

Although this man I chose would often be misunderstood.... I would always try my hardest to understand him. I am his prayer warrior. I am his cheering section. I am his forever faithful friend. I am his partner in life. I am the one whom he loves more than himself. I am all his and he is all mine. I love him more than I show some days. I love him more than I say some days. I am the one his parents prayed for. And he is the one I asked God for.



My fourteenth wedding anniversary was last Saturday on April 18th. I woke up just a little bummed. Back in January, my husband's grandmother had passed away. Since she lived in Florida during the winter months, her husband waited to do a memorial service with her children and their families back in PA. When he picked the date for the service...guess which day he chose? =/

The morning came and I awoke, fancied up my family and myself and off we went to the service. I had told my husband the night before, when we were out on our celebration date, that I felt like the day was not going to be at all about me. I laughed. He smiled. I was mostly joking...and only very slightly serious. ;-)

It seemed unlikely to me that God would speak to me during a service such as this...and yet He did. My husband's grandmother's husband got up to speak after the pastor had finished. He began to tell the story of the last months of his wife's life. He struggled through as we all watched in silence. Most of us had no idea what those days were like for him. As he was talking about how difficult it was to see her so close to the end...he said something that hit me hard.

"I still meant the vows I spoke when I married her. For better or worse. In sickness or health. I was going to stay with her to the end...because I promised that I would."

I needed to hear those words. My husband is not sick...and neither am I. Our relationship is strong and centered in Christ. The thought of either of us leaving is not a thought at all. I just needed to be reminded that God values those vows. He heard them. He longs for couples to remember those words that they promised to each other...before Him.

It is hard to find couples that live and love like they still believe those words. I say couples...because it only takes one to destroy the hope found in them. One cheating heart. One fallen away from faith. One willing to give up and leave the other without a choice.

What then? Romans 5 has something to say about someone who feels as though they are in a hopeless situation. Starting in verse 3  and going through verse 5 it says, "we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance;  perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us because God has poured out His love into our hearts but he Holy Spirit, whom He has given us."

Hope does not disappoint us. I LOVE THOSE WORDS!!!!! I have used them many times to change a friend's pity party into praise. The difference between someone who wallows and someone who rises above...is Jesus.

I have seen marriages all around me end. And in the midst of it...I have seen absolute brokenness turn to unexplainable strength. I have seen dependency on 'man' shift to independence with Christ. I have seen lack of faith turn into faith unbreakable. Unshakable. Faith restored. Hope found. And joy....no longer dependent on world-measured happiness.

The question was recently asked of me, "How would you define the joy of the Lord?" What would you have said? Think about it. How is it different than happiness? I encourage you to write down your definition if you'd like.

Here was mine...
The joy of the Lord...
Is joy unexplained.
Joy unbreakable by circumstance.
Joy that is not, can not be faked.
Joy that can be seen through solemness and through pain.
Joy is more than happiness, because it is more real than just a smile, kind word or gift.
Joy is the presence of God and an intentional spiritual mindset in all times, at all times.
The joy of the Lord is Jesus in us, actively and regularly moving through us, no matter how it is perceived or whether it is accepted...and yet we do it with a heart of gladness as onto HIM!
Joy does not always appear happy...but is instead always content.

God will speak to us some days in the most unlikely of places. He will help us to find solid hope and unexplainable joy in Him...when it makes no sense. His ways are not ours. (Can I get an Amen?!) His thoughts are higher than what we can fathom. Yet He chooses to speak in ways that we will understand.

Hold tight to hope in Christ.
Find joy in all places.
Remember promises that you have made before God. He heard them. He remembers every word you have said.
Take pride in holding true to your commitments.
Your relationships matter...work on them. Pray for them. Try to hold others more highly than yourself.
Love. It is the most important...and it covers all things.

I'm so in love with the man God gave me to experience life with. It isn't always sunshine and roses...but we always have love. It softens the hardness. It lightens the darkness.

Teaching Sacrifice

Sacrifice. It seems almost impossible to teach such a thing. I honestly never really thought too much about teaching it to my children. I guess I could've encouraged them to want to learn about it. I could've tried demanding it, but then again, you can't demand sacrifice. A person that truly understands the heart behind sacrifice...can't be forced. They must simply be given the option...and then willingly choose...what Christ would. As we near Easter, God gave me a front row seat to a lesson in sacrifice, by my 8-year old daughter.

What I witnessed this past weekend was extremely hard for me to watch, and at the same time absolutely beautiful. Many tears were shed. Some of them were in view of those around. More important to me, were those done in secret. They were not tears of shame. They were tears of awe. Tears of pride. Tears of thankfulness. Oh how I love the days God allows me to see His hand. Even more I adore the days that He chooses to let me see evidence of His Son in my child's heart.


It was the day before we were leaving and we were all so excited about our trip this past weekend. It was our last 3 hour trek to watch my son in his final swims of his amazing season. He had qualified for the 2015 Pennsylvania State Championship Swim Meet and I was not willing to miss it. (Even though I was fairly convinced that I was getting the flu.)

The seemingly ever-struggling procrastinator in me had once again...won. I still had literally every thing left to do before we could leave. Even though the plan was to leave promptly at 8:00 am the next morning...I could not stand for one more minute. I had cooked dinner for my family, on the verge of getting sick all over it. (Sorry for that mental image.) I had loaded the washer and dryer one last time. I just could. not. stand. Packing was not going to happen that night (as had been previously planned).

The next morning I woke up...no improvement. I pressed on. Showered. Completed barn chores.  Packed clothes, shoes, swim suits, snacks and toiletries for 6. Fed the littles. Loaded in the mini-van...and off we went. Shortly into our twisty turny trip I was struggling. I could not take my eyes off the road for fear of getting sick. I could not even speak. In my silence I kept thinking of all the things I had eaten the day before. (It was not helping.) We finally reached our destination 4. hours. later. and I just wanted needed a bed. And it was there that I stayed for the entire afternoon. And evening. And most of the next day.

Two full beds, one roll-a-way bed, six people...one which now had confirmed having the stomach flu. Before our first night was spent in that hotel...there was a conversation that needed to be had.

What were our sleeping arrangements going to be?

1. My husband had other kids to think of besides just our own. You see, he was one of only two coaches that was allowed on deck for the State meet Friday night, all day Saturday and Sunday morning. There were other kids counting on him to be there. He was their last minute support when their parents were not permitted to offer it. He was their reminder to relax and breathe. He was their voice of encouragement. He needed to stay healthy.





2. My oldest son was the reason we were all there. He was the nine year old that earned his way to this State meet. He needed to stay healthy.

3 & 4. My middle son and my youngest son are almost identical when dealing with flu-like symptoms. Sit/stand/lay where you are...and let the vomit fall where they needed to stay healthy.
it may. Seeing as how we were not in our own home, I had a limited number of wardrobe options and absolutely nothing with me to clean such a mess,

5. That left one. My sweet Ariel. I sat her down on the bed next to me. I explained everything that I just wrote above. She understood that sharing a bed with me for the next two nights, significantly increased her chances of getting what I had. She agreed that it was the best decision.

Sacrifice. Whether she or I realized it at that point or not, that is exactly what she did. She was given the option...and she chose what was best for everyone but herself. I was so proud of her. I was shocked by how easy the decision was for her. She did not need me to plead my case to try to convince her. She knew what she needed to do, and she did it with a smile. Jesus was there, and I know He was pleased with her.

Fast forward to Saturday evening. My time of misery was passing...and Ariel's was just beginning. Even through her fever and chills, she slept fairly well. It was now early Sunday morning. It was Aiden's turn to take the pool and our hotel stay was quickly coming to an end. No matter how sick any of us felt...we had no choice but to leave.

We arrived at the natatorium just before 6:30 am. My goal was to find a seat at the top of the lowest section, to assure that it would be easy to rush to the restroom if needed. We were too late. It was not even 7:00 am...and there were soooo many people already planted in their seats for the day. We ended up half way up in the highest section. This is where the lesson was hard to watch.

My baby girl spent her entire morning laying on a cement seat, with a fever. She would sleep. She would wake. She would run down three flights of stairs. She would wait in line...to throw up...in a public restroom. Wash hands. Rehydrate. Repeat.

Not once did she complain. Not once did she seek attention for how awful she felt. Not once did she wish it had been someone else.

All day long I fought back tears that would likely not have been understood by those looking on. A large part of my tears were definitely driven from how awful I felt that I was the clear cause of her misery. But most of all, they were in reaction to what her sacrifice cost her.

When I saw her....I saw Jesus. I know without a doubt that He lives within her, made possible only by His selfless act of sacrifice on the cross. She proudly asked Jesus into her heart to be her Savior at a young age. She knelt on the floor of our dining room, and by the invitation and prayers of her older brother, she made the most important decision she will ever make.



I could have demanded the same scenario. I could have simply told Ariel that it was her comfort and health that I was going to choose to sacrifice. But if I had...I would have missed the blessing. I would have missed the heart of Jesus so evidently portrayed through her act of selflessness. And I would have missed the promise that Romans 8:28 always leaves me wanting.

When I look at my daughter, I can clearly see that God is already instilling in her, the instincts she will need to be a godly wife, mother, friend, servant. Sacrifice is a big part of all relationships. She will sacrifice many times in her life. And even when her sacrifice leads to discomfort and pain...her reward is not here. I would hate for her to settle for earthly compensation. Heaven awaits this little daughter of the King. And her reward...will always, ALWAYS be worth the selfless sacrifice.

Barely Seeing

I am not alone much these days. I took on the HUGE MONUMENTAL TASK of homeschooling my three oldest children this year. I have ONE very independent (self-taught) 4th grader, ONE forever struggling to focus (tender hearted, easily distracted and always rushed) 2nd grader, and ONE intelligent (would rather be Ninja fighting his 4-year old brother) kindergardener that is not at all challenged with the work I find for him and yet surprisingly not confident in his abilities.

What a year it has been so far. Many tears. More laughs. Some Much frustration. And more proud mama moments than I ever saw coming. I LOVE seeing the heart of my children. And I love watching them grow together. I could deal without the fighting some days...but I would hate to miss the love that I get to witness.

My point in telling you that is to say...really...I. Am. NEVER. Alone. Even when I'm showering... questions arise. Questions that clearly can't wait for five minutes. *Moms...can I get an Amen?!* I have to laugh (although sometimes I'll admit that I choose to reply with a snotty and sarcastic tone)  when they come in and ask for help.

"Mom, can you help me get some orange juice?" says child.

"Seriously. SERIOUSLY?! Are. You. Seriously. asking me that right now???!!! Am I the only person that lives here that knows how to pour a drink?! Uh...I'm in the shower. How in the world would you suggest I get you orange juice?!" says frazzled annoyed surprisingly calm Mom. *wink wink*

For those of you that don't know much about me...I live in the snow belt of Pennsylvania. Yes...the snow belt. I willingly live where we get hammered with lake effect snow from Lake Erie. I, on purpose, live where the air gets so cold it not only simultaneously numbs and stings your skin, it freezes your nose hairs and actually hurts to breathe. The only time I am 'alone' as of lately....is when I take the trek, up my hill, in snow literally up to my knees some days...to do chores on our little country farm. No one bothers me there. They stay warm and cozy...and I go out in the bitter cold to throw hay, unfreeze water, fix broken halters, pet our goat, carry firewood etc....

And it is there, when I am finally alone, that God has been speaking to me lately. He's been giving me illustrations to write about. And by the time I make the frigid trip back down, still through snow up to my knees, and to my loud, cozy, question-filled house...they are forgotten. Sigh.... What is wrong with me? How could I be that excited about His inspiration...and then just forget it?! GAH!!

So the other night I had a long phone conversation with my dear, sweet friend, Sheli. I tell her that God has given me several illustrations to write about...and I have forgotten all but one. Her response...why don't you put a notebook and a pencil in your barn coat?

*insert light bulb here*
GENIUS!

So simple...and yet completely effective. And so that night after we hung up...I did just that. And a few moments later as I was cutting open bales of hay...God reminded me. 'Walking in dim light.'


A few weeks ago I was in my hay mow after the sun had set. I prefer NOT to do chores in the dark....but the ever busy, squeeze in one more thing before you go, struggling procrastinator in me sometimes wins out. Haha!

I turned on the lights downstairs...and climbed the wooden staircase to the mow. There is one lonely light way at the top of a high ceiling. It is not enough, considering what a HUGE space it is. And to make it even worse...right now there happens to be a half-full wagon of hay blocking most of the light that is cast down from that one. little. far-a-way. bulb.

Dim. I would definitely say the light is dim. So when I came from a barn floor full of lights and walked into the dimly lit mow...it made it all the harder to see. I was a bit taken back, wishing I had remembered to bring my flashlight, but unwilling to go back for it. I knew there were obstacles between me and the hay...and I was not sure how to keep myself from tripping over all of them. I squinted...it did not help. I waited (for a whole 3 seconds)...it did not improve. So I walked.

Gingerly I stepped. Guessing. Remembering what was there in the light. Small steps. Larger steps over whatever obstacle I thought I could see. And then...something happened. The shadows looked, less dark. My vision became more clear. The dim somehow, seemed brighter.

And that is when God spoke. "My child. You may be able to (barely) see in the dark...but you weren't meant to camp and find comfort there."

We are surrounded by darkness. Not necessarily always within...but forever surrounded. Darkness meant to harm us. And darkness seeking out those within our circle of influence. Some days it feels completely overwhelming. Sin that attacks from all angles, from all people, regardless of relationship. Those so broken, that you exhaust yourself to show them truth and prove it realness, only to find they won't accept it. It's as if they feel like it can't possibly be for them. The sadness that camps all around..some days seems to weigh me down.  But why?

Had I been choosing to struggle through the dark with only a poorly lit path...

Is that truly all that God had in mind for me...

                    Psalm 119:105-112 (NIV)

105 "Your word is a lamp for my feet,
    a light on my path.
106 I have taken an oath and confirmed it,
    that I will follow your righteous laws.
107 I have suffered much;
    preserve my life, Lord, according to your word.
108 Accept, Lord, the willing praise of my mouth,
    and teach me your laws.
109 Though I constantly take my life in my hands,
    I will not forget your law.
110 The wicked have set a snare for me,
    but I have not strayed from your precepts.
111 Your statutes are my heritage forever;
    they are the joy of my heart.
112 My heart is set on keeping your decrees
    to the very end."

...or have I simply not been consciously choosing to find light? It is there. Did you catch it? Black letters on the white pages of my Bible. "YOUR WORD is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path." If you find yourself barely able to see past your own circumstance. Or without answers for what the next step is. Start choosing light. Open up the Living Word of God...and gain strength in your faith.

God may choose to smack you with it when you least expect it...but more often He, the gentleman, will nudge instead. 

You pause in the middle of your morning rush when you see your dust-covered Bible. Nudge.

You hear a message on the radio that inquires about your quiet time. Nudge.

You hear a song that stops you in your tracks because it seems the lyrics were written specifically for you. Nudge.

Don't walk around stumbling and yelling at inanimate objects for 'being in your way'. Shed some light in your dark. Choose. Consciously choose...to search not only for a lamp for your feet(your next step), but also a light for your path(what is to come). 

"My child. You may be able to (barely) see in the dark...but you weren't meant to camp and find comfort there."-God

Get Your Praise On (Day TWENTY SEVEN-30 Day Challenge)

Every time my kids and I drive anywhere together...music is almost always on. As of recently...we are usually rocking bands such as LaCrae, Toby Mack and Capital Kings. They are all super upbeat and fun. To some who hear us drive by, it might seem a little odd to hear Christian dance, hip hop or rap coming from my sweet minivan; but  I can assure you that my kids don't care at all. Lol! The smiles on their faces...and the lyrics they are singing makes it worth a few eye rolls. ;-)

Even though lately we've been listening to a lot of music that makes us all want to dance...I love that my kids can still appreciate true worship. I know that I've mentioned one of my favorite songs before...but I am going to again. It became clear to me in the last few weeks that maybe my kids aren't 'the norm'.  Haha!! I mean they really aren't normal, but I'm thinking maybe they are more 'peculiar' than I realize. 

I'm going to go King James on you for a moment. Stay with me. ;-) "But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of Him who hath called you out of darkness into His marvelous light." 1 Peter 2:9 ( Just so we are clear...because I wasn't...'shew forth' means show out into view.)

What does it mean to be peculiar? By definition it can have several meanings. Some of them include; special, unique, eccentric, uncommon, unusual or odd. What does it mean for us, as Christians, to be peculiar? The definitions that I believe the author is referring to in the passage above are; 'distinct from all others', 'distinctive in nature or character from others'. 

WE AREN'T SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE THE WORLD!! (All caps means I am screaming it right?! Lol! There is a difference between screaming in anger and screaming with passion. I am passionate about that one...not bitter! I just want to be sure you got my point.) We aren't supposed to talk like them!  We aren't supposed to live like them! We are supposed to be peculiar! We are supposed to show, so the world can see, ourselves praising Him who has given us freedom from eternal death and suffering! You  have something to celebrate. It is not just your day...but your forever! We are not above the lost, as in high and mighty, but we are different. Or at least we should be!

My oldest son has gotten the chance to play DJ with my MP3 player a few times over the last couple of weeks, while we had some friends of his in the car with us. He deemed himself in charge of finding music suitable for everyone. He played a few silly dance-type songs, a little rap and then.... (Here is where it got peculiar, in a good way.) Aiden turned to his friend and said in an excited voice...'Do you want to hear an awesome song? It is so so good! It is one of my favorites!' Of course they did...his song selection had been slammin'! His DJ skills were clearly right on track.

If you haven't ever heard the song that he played next...take the time now to watch the video. It is so so good, in my opinion as well. So good! The song is called, 'The Great I Am'. It starts off quiet and slow...and it builds. I remember well the first time my children and I ever heard it. We were driving home at night and I turned it way up. (Probably to try to hear over their loudness!) Everyone.got.silent. (In a van with four young children, I gotta tell you, THAT NEVER HAPPENS! <-- Passionate about that one too? Haha!) Seriously, my kids and I couldn't help it though. The words of this song brought a hush over us all. We worshiped God that night, in my minivan, in complete silence. We didn't have to say or sing a word. We were there in His Presence...and I will never forget it. We couldn't help but to just listen in awe of the lyrics. As I listened for the first time, I had tears falling down onto my cheeks. The song ended and my oldest son, who was probably around the age of 6 or 7 at the time, says to me, 'Wow, THAT is a powerful song Mom. I cried a little when I was listening to it.' Peculiar! (But also totally amazing that he can discern the power of God put to music!)

Or how about the week that my middle son, Titus was in the nursery at our old church. To help time pass the nursery workers were asking for song requests that the group could sing together. One child asked to sing The Itsy Bitsy Spider. Another wanted Mary Had a Little Lamb. Titus though, at the age of 3, he asked for The Great I Am. Peculiar!(And also amazing to me! They are listening...no matter their age...they hear you!) And when the woman who was working in the nursery that day told me that story, she ended by saying, 'You can tell which child is the worship leader's son!' Haha! I absolutely LOVE IT!

Why are my kids peculiar? I'd say it is a double whammy. Yep...that's what I said. A.double.whammy. Lol! You see, my husband is not only the Worship Pastor of our church; I am also one of the lead worshipers. That is not at all a prideful statement. Please please please know that. I am simply saying that I am not up there performing. I am not just trying to be a singer leading songs. I am a worshiper who leads BY worshiping. I am not above. I am not exalted. I am someone who has gone through times where I didn't want to sing...and now I must worship whenever I can. I owe Him that at the very least! I know what God has given me victory over. I worship because I can not forget how faithful He has been to me! I will never forget!

"Praise the Lord. Praise God in His sanctuary; praise Him in His mighty Heavens. Praise Him for His acts of power; praise Him for His surpassing greatness. Praise Him with the sounding of the trumpet, praise Him with the harp and lyre, praise Him with tambourine and dancing, praise Him with the strings and flute, praise Him with the clash of cymbals, praise Him with resounding cymbals. Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. Praise the Lord."  Psalm 150

Do you have breath? Then you know what to do! You must set the example. The world is watching...begging someone to live what they know. Your kids are learning from you. It matters not so much what you say...but what they see you do. In your home do they see you worship? In your car do they hear you pray and praise? Is worship kept sacred for Sunday mornings? Because we can't handle that type of pressure. Your church can.not.be your only source of worship! When you have gone allllll week without singing praises to your King, who is responsible? When you come empty and leave disappointed, who is to blame? It surely is NOT your church. Do you know that 'worship is a lifestyle...not an event'? Is that what your life proves to be true?

God gave us a pretty HUGE miracle this week in our family. **Disclaimer...The following should not in any way give any one the impression that my husband is anything other than invincible as he believes he is. Haha! (Kind of like when Mario gets a star on any of the Mario video games) It proves only that God's protection is over him...and NOT that he is a weakling. End of disclaimer** ;-)

Wednesday my husband came home from work and I went out to give him a hug. Immediately I could tell by his face that something was wrong. Keep in mind that he has a extremely dangerous job. There isn't a day that goes by that my kids and I don't pray for the safety of he and his dad in the woods. Our team of horses was pulling a log as Eric had instructed them to do. He was beside the cart watching as the log they were pulling t-boned a tree that was laying in their path. Eric, thinking it was just a log that would move out of the way, gave another command for them to continue on through the obstacle. They began pulling the entire tree with them which knocked Eric over. He was then dragged along, with the tree eventually ending up on top of him.

What stopped it? Finally the tree that was dragging him ran into a tree that was still standing. He had a close view of this tree. The sound that it made when it stopped all motion was not only heard but felt. Less than a foot away from getting his head crushed...Eric lay unable to move. He was unsure if anything was broken. He had no function in either of his legs. BUT GOD!

In August of 2011 God gave me this scripture for Eric. "A righteous man may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all; He protects His bones, not one of them will be broken." Psalm 34:19-20 I showed the verse to Eric and he still holds on to that promise.

Eric is sore...but he is blessed! That first night was a rough one for him pain-wise...but he can feel. The feeling in his legs was quickly restored. The nausea from the intense pain left as he slept that Wednesday night. I praise God that He gave me the promise of protection over my husband. I praise God that He reminded him of it when he hobbled into our house that afternoon. And I praise God that He was faithful to that promise. No bones broken. Not even a bruise or scratch.

I laughed as I responded to this question posed by one of the men from our worship team, "When a worship leader falls in the forest and nobody else is around to hear, just what kind of sound does he make?" My answer..."The worship leader still praises God because his head was not smashed between the trees less than a foot from it! =) God is good!"

NO matter your circumstance...you have reason to praise. Set the example for the world around you...and set the bar high! Imitate Christ always...and watch how it changes your view of God's faithfulness. Watch how it strengthens your faith. Let it mold you to be a more noticeable and effective warrior. Heaven will be an eternity all about praising and worshiping our Creator...I suggest you learn to love it now! ;-)

"May my lips overflow with praise, for you teach me Your decrees. May my tongue sing of your Word, for all Your commands are righteous." Psalm 119:171-172 

Suggest Hope

Good morning! And what a beautiful morning it is here in northwestern Pennsylvania! It's been a little chilly lately, but the sun is shining and it is already warming up. Don't get me wrong. I am a LOVER of everything fall! The temperature. The smell. The activities. The food. The pumpkin-a-latte loveliness. But...........it. is. JULY! *Rant over...for now*

Most of the year our church has a Saturday night service as well as Sunday morning. My husband is the Worship Pastor and I am also a member of the worship team...which means that we get to attend both services! :-) The message a while back on a  Saturday night, spoke a couple of really power-filled things straight to my heart...and I can't wait to share one of them with you today!! I've literally typed this post three times. Once on my phone. Don't get me started on how annoying that was! Once on my iPad...almost as equally annoying. And once on my computer. Fourth time is a charm? We shall see......

First, this is my challenge to you. Get your Bible out. *Vanesa taps fingers on table and hums Jeapordy theme song while she waits for you get your Bible* No matter how annoyed or impatient you are at my request it will help my post make sense!! Pretty please...*insert puppy dog eyes*

Whew...now open to Acts 27 and read verses 9-44!! The reason I say use your own Bible...is because that way you can underline the verses that stick out at you. You can also write beside them what God speaks to you today. It is for your benefit at a later date when you are struggling. The words underlined and written will stand out...and you will remember how God used them for your good! =)

For those of you honestly too busy, rushed, or ahem...lazy to get your Bible...here you go...

Acts 27: "⁹ Much time had been lost, and sailing had already become dangerous because by now it was after the Day of Atonement. So Paul warned them, ¹⁰ “Men, I can see that our voyage is going to be disastrous and bring great loss to ship and cargo, and to our own lives also.” ¹¹ But the centurion, instead of listening to what Paul said, followed the advice of the pilot and of the owner of the ship. ¹² Since the harbor was unsuitable to winter in, the majority decided that we should sail on, hoping to reach Phoenix and winter there. This was a harbor in Crete, facing both southwest and northwest.

The Storm

¹³ When a gentle south wind began to blow, they saw their opportunity; so they weighed anchor and sailed along the shore of Crete. ¹⁴ Before very long, a wind of hurricane force, called the Northeaster, swept down from the island. ¹⁵ The ship was caught by the storm and could not head into the wind; so we gave way to it and were driven along. ¹⁶ As we passed to the lee of a small island called Cauda, we were hardly able to make the lifeboat secure, ¹⁷ so the men hoisted it aboard. Then they passed ropes under the ship itself to hold it together. Because they were afraid they would run aground on the sandbars of Syrtis, they lowered the sea anchor^[b] and let the ship be driven along. ¹⁸ We took such a violent battering from the storm that the next day they began to throw the cargo overboard. ¹⁹ On the third day, they threw the ship’s tackle overboard with their own hands. ²⁰ When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days and the storm continued raging, we finally gave up all hope of being saved.
²¹ After they had gone a long time without food, Paul stood up before them and said: “Men, you should have taken my advice not to sail from Crete; then you would have spared yourselves this damage and loss. ²² But now I urge you to keep up your courage, because not one of you will be lost; only the ship will be destroyed. ²³ Last night an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I serve stood beside me ²⁴ and said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul. You must stand trial before Caesar; and God has graciously given you the lives of all who sail with you.’ ²⁵ So keep up your courage, men, for I have faith in God that it will happen just as he told me. ²⁶ Nevertheless, we must run aground on some island.

The Shipwreck

²⁷ On the fourteenth night we were still being driven across the Adriatic^[c] Sea, when about midnight the sailors sensed they were approaching land. ²⁸ They took soundings and found that the water was a hundred and twenty feet^[d] deep. A short time later they took soundings again and found it was ninety feet^[e] deep. ²⁹ Fearing that we would be dashed against the rocks, they dropped four anchors from the stern and prayed for daylight. ³⁰ In an attempt to escape from the ship, the sailors let the lifeboat down into the sea, pretending they were going to lower some anchors from the bow. ³¹ Then Paul said to the centurion and the soldiers, “Unless these men stay with the ship, you cannot be saved.” ³² So the soldiers cut the ropes that held the lifeboat and let it drift away.
³³ Just before dawn Paul urged them all to eat. “For the last fourteen days,” he said, “you have been in constant suspense and have gone without food—you haven’t eaten anything. ³⁴ Now I urge you to take some food. You need it to survive. Not one of you will lose a single hair from his head.” ³⁵ After he said this, he took some bread and gave thanks to God in front of them all. Then he broke it and began to eat. ³⁶ They were all encouraged and ate some food themselves. ³⁷ Altogether there were 276 of us on board. ³⁸ When they had eaten as much as they wanted, they lightened the ship by throwing the grain into the sea.
³⁹ When daylight came, they did not recognize the land, but they saw a bay with a sandy beach, where they decided to run the ship aground if they could. ⁴⁰ Cutting loose the anchors, they left them in the sea and at the same time untied the ropes that held the rudders. Then they hoisted the foresail to the wind and made for the beach. ⁴¹ But the ship struck a sandbar and ran aground. The bow stuck fast and would not move, and the stern was broken to pieces by the pounding of the surf.
⁴² The soldiers planned to kill the prisoners to prevent any of them from swimming away and escaping. ⁴³ But the centurion wanted to spare Paul’s life and kept them from carrying out their plan. He ordered those who could swim to jump overboard first and get to land. ⁴⁴ The rest were to get there on planks or on other pieces of the ship. In this way everyone reached land safely."




I highlighted and underlined the verses that I wanted to bring your attention to. The men on the ship had given up hope. They did not see any way out of this situation they found themselves in. So what did Paul do. He suggested hope. He was the first to give them a thought of life over the death they were sure they were facing.

Let's think about this first suggestion of hope. Had they not believed...what would the outcome have been? Had Paul, being a prisoner of these men, been too terrified to speak up...oh how different this story would be. But Paul boldly spoke. And the soldiers hesitantly listened.

Think back on the course of your life for a moment. Has anyone ever been that first suggestion of hope to you? Whether you believed it at first or not...can you recognize that they boldly spoke what neither of you could actually see? Let me give you two of my life examples.



MY first suggestion of hope came after my second pregnancy, which just like my first, ended in a disappointing miscarriage. The difference though, was that I had had a lot more time to fall in love with baby #2. I was 16 weeks along when my hopeful attitude slapped me in face and into another state of shock, disbelief and soon to be depression. I held him. Born in my bathroom on December 20th of 2001, Isaiah Ethan fit into the palm of my hand. His arms and legs were like spaghetti. His tiny lifeless body I was sure would haunt me forever. 

Months went by. I was still unable to think of the events of that traumatic night with out shedding tears. One day I was with a couple of friends at their yard sale. Vicki walked up to me and spoke straight to where I was broken. She said that she was praying for me and God told her that I would have a child. I would carry the child to full term...and the baby would be healthy.

THAT, was my suggestion of hope. I no longer had to wonder. I no longer had to doubt. I just had to wait for God to bless me with this child I had now been promised. It was one month shy of 3 years after that conversation that God fulfilled that promise to me. My healthy baby boy was born in May of 2005...and all I had to do was believe.



MY second suggestion of hope came after I had my fourth child. (I only KNEW of the promise of one...but out of my seven pregnancies...I have gained four AWESOME kids...and three are in Heaven awaiting our arrival!!) After I had my final baby I was diagnosed with Post Partum Depression (PPD). It made absolutely no sense in the natural. Baby #4, Levi, was a very happy baby. The transition to bring him home was super smooth. And it was fall...my favorite season! BUT, in the supernatural it made complete sense. Knowing what I know now....it was an absolutely VITAL part of molding me to the woman I am today.

So, shortly after my diagnosis, God began telling me to talk to specific women. He would say, "Tell her what you are going through, she has something for you." So I did. Six women. Each with their own specific truth for me. Each one, one step in my road to healing. One of them though...was my suggestion of hope.

Bekah sat with me in my living room..while my kids raced around...and listened gently and softly spoke when appropriate. I told her all of it..."I feel like a horrible mother, I've had thoughts of hurting myself, I scream at these children that I prayed for, I flip out, I stay silent for days, I distance myself from everyone I love"...and what is her response?

"I see so much hope for you."

Confusion set in. I didn't see it. If I didn't know and love her...I would say that it was a cruel joke. So she went on to explain. "When you come out of this victorious...you are going to have a powerful ministry that will be set on fire. You will reach out to women who are going through similar circumstances and you will be their voice of hope. God will use you in a mighty way!"

I didn't feel it. I didn't see it. But I CHOSE to believe it. I had to. My alternative...was death. A few weeks later the opportunity would present itself. Death knocked at my depressed heart...and I fought for my life. Had I NOT spoken to those women...what would my outcome have been when the enemy whispered for me to take my own life? If I had not chosen to believe in the hope I neither felt nor saw....where would I be today?



Who has been that voice of hope for you? Have you ever told them? Maybe it is exactly what they need to hear today. Write it down. Mail it to them. Text them. Call. Email....whatever it takes. Let them know the impact that their suggestion of hope had on you. And be willing to suggest hope to the hurting people you know/see. They might be simple words to you....but to the searching heart....it is LIFE!