How my mom led me to salvation

When I tell my testimony, I always start with a prayer my mother prayed.  That is where it started.

I was twelve, and we had just moved back to the town of Burleson, Texas.  My mom had a deep longing in her heart to have her children in church and to know Christ.  So she prayed this prayer, "Lord, show me where we are suppose to go to church, and I will go."

Before this moment, our family had never been a church going family.  So this was definitely a turning point for my and my whole family.

Now that I am a mom, and I have a daughter that is halfway through her teenage years (Hallelujah!) and a son that is at the cusp of teendom.  I know how desperate that prayer might have felt.

There's worry, then there is worry about your kids worry, and then there is worry about your teenager worry.  It's the most powerless of the three, and the scariest.  You are letting go of all that control you had in those younger years.

Sidenote:  I took a personality quiz and found out I was half control freak and half perfectionist.  The perfectionist part I knew, but I didn't realize I wanted control all the time.  It should have tipped me off that the quiz was right when I wanted to start analyzing the quiz and see if I could rewrite it.  Ummm.  Control?

I've had nights were my worry for my kids has been so intense, I physically hurt all over.  Lord, forgive me.

My mom is not a control person though, she's a peacemaker.  That is why her prayer was so, so brave.  My dad didn't want any part of going to church, and he didn't for years after we started going.  Thank the Lord that my dad's heart was changed eventually.

All of these intense feelings and bravery must be why God loves and answers prayers of mothers.  He can see their hearts.  There are so many examples of God answering mother's prayers.  Hannah, Elizabeth, Mary, Sarah, Rebekah, Naomi, and Hagar all begged God for protection or provision and He delivered in phenominal ways.

God answered my mother's prayer too.  Within a few days, we received a letter from the church just a few blocks away inviting us to attend.

That Saturday my mother came into my room and said, "Tomorrow we are going to church so be ready" is seared into my brain.  It was so unusual and unprecidented.

We started attending South Burleson Baptist Church, and if we haven't, I know my life would not be the same.

When my mom prayed that prayer, she was leading me to Christ.  When my mom bravely took us to church against my dad's wishes, she was leading me to Christ.  When my mom continued to attend church even though it was difficult for her because of her anxiety, she was leading me to Christ.

The night I gave my heart to the Lord, another moment is seared into my memory, and I know it is seared into my mother's memory as well.  It is the memory of standing in front of our neighborhood church and telling my mom that I had asked Jesus into my heart.  God had answered another of my mom's prayers.

What about you?  Are you a mother with prayers for your children?  Are you a child with a praying mother?  Are you a child with prayers for your mother?  Take heart.

Be encouraged by Hannah.  She was praying so passionately to the Lord that the priest Eli thought she was drunk on wine.  Listen to what she told him, and what Eli told her.  The God of Hannah, loves you and wants to answer your prayers.

"'Do not regard your servant as a worthless woman, for all along I have been speaking out of my great anxiety and vexation.' Then Eli answered, 'Go in peace, and the God of Israel grant your petition that you have made to him.' And she said, 'Let your servant find favor in your eyes.' Then the woman went her way and ate, and her face was no longer sad." 1 Samuel 1:16-18 ESV

Paralyzed and powerless

For the IF:Amarillo gathering coming up in 17 days (Eeeek!?!!?!), we have a website with a blog. Kaylie Hodges is our blog master. One of the things she did on the blog was to post a picture of our leadership team and introduce everyone. We have known each other only a few months and talked a handful of times, but she nailed it. Here's what Kaylie wrote about me:

"This lady will surprise you. She comes off as quiet and meek, but she has a crazy funny sense of humor and her willingness to step out in spite of her sometimes shyness speaks to a faith that truly believes that He has overcome. She works crazy hard to make sure we have the resources we need and doesn't mind handling the tough stuff like money and photoshop."

How did she know about how God has given me a faith to overcome my shyness? That girl's got some insight.

Yesterday I ran into an old friend. We had been camp councilors together for Angel Tree Camp in 2009. Before Citychurch had their own children's camp, Camp Hope, Citychurh threw it's staff, volunteers, and resources to help Angel Tree Camp. So many of the children who had family members incarcerated were the same children that Citychurch was reaching. So it seemed like a no brainer to partner up.

Sometimes I really forget how much and how far God has brought me in overcoming my shyness. But thinking about those Angel Tree Camp years, brings back some low points for me. Those were the years I was realizing it wasn't just shyness holding me back, it was social anxiety. Preparing to help for the first time at Angel Tree Camp, it reared it's ugly head.

The season before the 2009 camp, I had finally realized that the way I thought other people viewed me was not healthy or normal. I realized that I was having what I call "wacky thoughts." I was convinced that everyone was constantly judging me or thinking the worst of me. I'm such a people pleaser, so that was my nightmare. The truth is that people are very much wrapped up in their own lives, their own problems. If they think about me, it's a side thought, not "There's Jennifer, let's rip apart her appearance and actions in my brain." That's wacky.

That 2009 winter and spring, my anxiety had lead to a paralyzing depression. To get out of it, my husband, doctor, and I decided a very low dose anti-depressant was a good idea. So I began that medicine in early June. Angel Tree Camp was in that late July. Citychurch had been helping with Angel Tree for a few years, but somehow I had never helped with Angel Tree Camp. I had babies or other reasons that I couldn't help, so this was my first time to be a councilor.

Angel Tree Camp was such an epic thing. It was a huge deal every year. There was so much thought, care, and planning that went into those camps, it was intimidating. Decorations, themed skits, messy games, t-shirts, color coded cabins inspired young people to color their hair crazy colors, and fun activities galore.

Leaving for camp that July, I had agreed to ride out to the camp with another councilor that I didn't know yet. The people in charge had put me in a cabin of councilors and girls that were all strangers. I remember that my purple cabin ladies had told me to buy purple balloons. So that morning James drove me to buy balloons and took me over to the parking lot where I was going to meet my ride.

I was petrified. I was going into social anxiety minefield. How was I going to ride in a car with this lady I don't know for 45 minutes? I'm going to have to get to know all of these people. I didn't know what anyone or anything was going to be like. They are not going to like me. I'm going to be miserable.

I know I sound like a 9 year old before camp. I was a grown woman. James had to pull the car over and convince me that I could do it.

It's embarrassing to admit that it was so hard for me to get in a stranger's car and go help underprivileged kids with incarcerated parents have a fun week. The only reason I am admitting this is: 1. God has brought me so far, and I want to praise Him. 2. I know there are other ladies who have this problem. I want them to know that God can help them overcome their anxiety.

It doesn't happen overnight. It has taken years to heal.

Let me give you a flash forward timeline of what happened next:

I had the best time at camp. I became fast friends with those other ladies. That fall I found out I was pregnant with Gabe and that my father in law Don had leukemia. I gave up the medicine because of my pregnancy. That December, Don went to be with the Lord. January was my mom's hospitalization. May Gabe was born. June we moved to a new house. July my little brother died unexpectedly.

So needless to say, I didn't help at the next Angel Tree camp. I had a newborn and grief.

The next summer, 2011, Gabe was a year old, and James volunteered to watch him so I could help with Angel Tree Camp again. I was on board. I was going to help. I went to the planning meetings. I bought cabin decorations. I even crafted things for the girls in my cabin.

But the night before camp, my social anxiety was there, tearing me down. I completely chickened out of going. I called and convinced my mother-in-law to take my spot.

If having to pull myself together and get a pep talk is embarrassing, completely backing out the night before was downright shameful.

Over these years of grief, changes, and loss, I was beginning to cling to God like I never had before. I was in such need of his healing, grace, comfort, and love. I dove into studying his word, like I never had before. I began to grow in my faith. I began to serve Him in our church again.

The next summer, 2012, was our first year of Camp Hope. We took all the fun of Angel Tree and included all of the kids that Citychurch brings to summer Bible clubs. We named it after one of my father-in-law's favorite words, Hope, as a tribute to him.

I agreed to help. I was determined to redeem myself. Honestly it was so much easier to go and help that year. God had healed me so much, not just by learning more about Him through Bible study, but by leaning on Him through serving Him. I had begun to teach Sunday School for the pre-schoolers and seek out ways to serve Him. Each time I had stepped out of my comfort zone and taught or served, God had helped me do it.

God has truly brought me through so many things. He has handed out measure upon measure of faith every time I was in need of it. He has proven Himself trustworthy to me.

Just like a toddler learning to walk, I held onto God and He helped me along. It was even more than that analogy because with my anxiety, I was paralyzed. I was powerless. I could do nothing myself. God gave me the strength. I know my strength comes from Him.

In my life now, I am very busy with ministry. I am constantly putting myself in situations with new people. I'd love to tell you that it is easy now, but it's not. I just remind myself that God is strengthening me, and just step out in faith and do it. I know I can't do it on my own, but I know He can do it. He's proven Himself to me.

If you have anxiety, He will prove Himself faithful to you too. It takes more than just learning these words. You don't need faith to stay powerless and inactive. Step out and serve Him. Let Him give you the strength.

"Do you not know?
Have you not heard? Yahweh is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the whole earth.
He never grows faint or weary;
there is no limit to His understanding.
He gives strength to the weary
and strengthens the powerless.
Youths may faint and grow weary,
and young men stumble and fall,
but those who trust in the LORD
will renew their strength;
they will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary;
they will walk and not faint."
Isaiah 40:28-31 HCSB      

"I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the LORD,
who made heaven and earth."
Psalm 121:1-2 ESV

"This saying is trustworthy:
For if we have died with Him,
we will also live with Him;
if we endure, we will also reign with Him;
if we deny Him, He will also deny us;
if we are faithless, He remains faithful,
for He cannot deny Himself."
2 Timothy 2:11-13 HCSB

My beyond tenfold answered prayer

A few years ago I had a shift in my faith.  Not to the side, not a loss of faith, although most people might lose faith after going through what I went through.  No.  My shift in faith was a stronger faith.  With my strength of belief in the Lord, I also had a deep need to act.

"But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law,the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing." James 1:22-25

I knew the Lord, and I wanted to do something to put my faith to action.  The Lord begin to show me a bigger view of the world and His plan.  I begin to see needs everywhere I looked.  I wanted to go to work for Jesus, meeting spiritual and physical needs around the world as much as humanly possible.

I began jumped on board anything I could be a part of.  I ministered in so many ways.  Before that tough time in my life, I had allowed my anxieties to hold me back from ministering.  I was a part of Citychurch and it's ministry.  But I had slowly backed down from any responsibilities there.  I was stand-offish to the ministry I was in the middle of.

When Gabe was a baby, I decided to change that.  I thought maybe I could just sit in on a Sunday School class and help.  That quickly turned into teaching the preschool class.  It was the best thing I've ever done in the ministry.  Teaching that class was a big turning point in my ministry.

As my fire grew to minister more and more.  I wanted to try crazy things.  I wanted to do ministry that no one was doing that might reach the parents of our CityKids.  I gathered my Bible study ladies and taught monthly classes for low-income adults.  It was a short lived ministry, but I learned a lot from it.  And I haven't given up on the idea.

During the beginning of that "all-in," "ready for crazy ministry" period, I began to feel like I was alone in my fire for the Lord and His hurting world.

I began to pray for a partner in crime, another woman who wanted to actively serve the Lord in crazy ways.

God has answered these prayers, more than tenfold!  It wasn't overnight.  But I get weepy thinking of how deep and wide he answered that prayer.

Let me tell you about my partners in crime:

Shelly Wilson:  I have to talk about Shelly first because we've been to Ethiopia and back, and we are doing it again in August.  I love Shelly because I get Shelly.  She's an accountant turned mom turned adoptive mom turned crusader for Christ just like me.  Shelly's a hard worker.  She's one of those wonderful people who jump in and grab an ore when the boat needs rowing.  She doesn't just say she's going to do something, she does it as if someone is grading it and she's expecting an A++.  I've seen Shelly's heart, in times of disappointment and times of excitement.  Let me tell you, Shelly's got a good one, full of Christ's love.

The IF Ladies:  Right now I'm in the middle of this crazy ride called "planning an IF:Amarillo for the whole city."  It's a ride where they check your faith against the ruler before they strap you in.  It's amazing to get to serve God alongside these women who are so in love with Jesus.  Kaylie Hodges, Jennifer Johnson, Kristen DeRight, McKenzie Autry, April Mason, Shawntae Stout, Emily Wood, and Maribel Sims, I hope you girls know we are partners in crime now.  I'm going to be calling you and emailing you asking when we can get on another roller coaster, serving Jesus mission.

The In His Hands Ladies:  If you want a surefire way to soften a women's heart, tell them their son or daughter is on the other side of the planet.  I've caught onto you, God.  Good plan.  You got all of us with that one.  Melissa Albright is our instigator.  She's got a vision of Amarillo Christians coming together to serve the orphans of our city and our world.  I'm so happy to know the Albright's because I want to see that vision become reality.  Andi Veazy has quickly become a faith hero of mine.  She has three sons who are legally her children "stuck" in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.  (If you don't know what "stuck" is, watch the documentary by that name.  If you do know what "stuck" is, pray with me.  Help us pray those boys home.)  Christina Prater is just cool.  She makes me feel cool that I get to be in this group with her.  She's got style and grace.  But she also has love, compassion, and a willingness to serve.  I've got to mention two ladies who aren't even adopting, but have their hearts open wide to serve orphans.  They are on fire with their love for Jesus, Stacey Pybus and Eileen Merriman.  We need more women like this in our group.  The longer I am a part of In His Hands, the more women I meet that are ready to do crazy things for Jesus.  Lori Scott is knee deep in orphan care running an international and domestic adoption agency AND a non-profit that cares for orphans.  Cayla Cato is a new mom to the cutest little guy that she just adopted from Uganda.  Obviously her heart is in it.  I can't wait to see who else God leads to our group as it grows and grows.  He has already used our group in awe inspiring ways.  He let us be a part of raising enough money to purchase land for an orphanage in Uganda.  The money came together in a matter of hours, and we were all dumbstruck.  We shouldn't have been surprised.  God is God.

Citychurch people:  I have to confess something here.  I was praying for something I already had.  I was blinded with discouragement from the devil.  I was sitting among the biggest group of crazy-ministry folks in my city.  I'm not exaggerating or bragging when I say that my church is the most dynamic, unusual, willing to try new things, all inclusive, ministry focused, outreach oriented church I know of.  I honestly believe it is true.  We do crazy-ministry things like riding our bikes out into low-income neighborhoods to serve children lunches in the summer, take a hundred children and almost a hundred pre-teens to a free camp every summer, specifically children who's families could never afford a summer camp on their own.  We take young people to a free camp in the mountains and on mission trips to let them serve.  We pick up vans full of children every Sunday, feed them and tell them about Christ.  Then we do something even crazier.  We let them sit in our church service without their parents there to watch them, while we set up cameras to record the service.  We teach Bible clubs across from elementary schools.  It's the most impactful work we do, but honestly the least flashy.  It is the front lines with Jesus important.  We serve a congregation of South Sudanese Christians in every way we can.  We teach a English as a Second Language -ESL- class.  We reach children and families in the "forgotten" part of Amarillo.   We spot their needs, and meet them.  This includes everything from Christmas presents and groceries, to shoes and underwear.  We have dreams and plans to minister in even more exciting and crazy ways in our city.  It doesn't even come close to reality when I say I love Citychurch.  The reason I can say that we do all of these wonderful things is because of our people.  If I started listing names, I'm afraid I might miss one.  If you have helped with any of these things listed, I mean you.  You're one of my partners in crime.

My husband James:  My best partner in crime ever.  He has always supported any ministry I wanted to get my hands dirty with.  I put him to work helping me every time, and he does it with a cheerful heart.  He's the best, and I tell him all the time.

It is amazing to me that I was surrounded by the kind of people I wanted to be surrounded by and I wasn't seeing it.  I think that happens to all of us at some point in our life.  We realize we already have the thing we are hoping and dreaming for.

Here's a good example.  If you live in America and you hope to be rich.  Open your eyes.  You already are.  Just check out http://www.globalrichlist.com/   (I'm richer than 89% of the world.  I bet you're up their too.)

Well, I was rich in crazy-sold-out Christ followers.  I was struck oil rich.  I should have been dancing in it, but I was looking around like a lost kid in the mall.

Thank you Lord for answering my prayer and for opening my eyes.

"Say to those who have an anxious heart, 'Be strong; fear not!  Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God.  He will come and save you.' Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then shall the lame man leap like a deer, and the tongue of the mute sing for joy." Isaiah 35:4-6

Lice and wasps. Oh my!

We have all heard that the devil likes to attack just before the Lord moves or uses us to further His kingdom.  Most of us have felt those attacks just before a mission trip or even just on Sunday morning.

I want to tell you about my first full fledged attack of Satan, and the first time I felt God used me in His ministry at Citychurch.  This story lives in my mind as a milestone in my ministry at Citychurch.  It was the first time I stuck through the rough stuff and came out the other side to see God move.  It was the first time God let me be a big part of what He had done.

August of 2000, Citychurch was still a new church, a new ministry.  It was summer, and we took a few of the youth aged kids to a youth camp, our second youth camp as a church.

James's family had started Citychurch just four years earlier.  The ministry was still very much a family affair.  So the camp staff was just our family: me, James, his sister Anna, their brother Donnie, and his wife Shanda.  And we took our two year olds along.  We had our daughter Lucy, and Donnie and Shanda had their daughter Alexis.

I don't think I've ever shared this, and James's family might even be surprised to hear the whole story.

If you've ever been to camp or worked at a camp, their is this pattern that emerges.  I worked at a Girl Scout camp the summer after high school, and I started calling the pattern the Wednesday blues.

How camp always goes: 

Early in the week, the campers arrive, they are happy to be there, they are making new friends.  It's all good. 

Wednesday afternoon, rumbling starts.  All the new friends are beginning to get on each other's nerves.  The campers realize camp is half over, and they are either mad it is going so quickly or devastated because it feels like forever before they will get to go home. 

Wednesday night is sure to have some crying and a few fights. 

Thursday everyone is depressed.  They miss their mom, they miss their bed, they miss their dog.  They are sick of spiders.  They're scared of the dark.  Get the Kleenex out, crying is going to happen and happen hard. 

Friday everyone loves everyone again.  They've just survived the most traumatic night of their life together.  Group photos ensue.  They are going to miss everyone when they go home.  Everyone swears to pen pal it up. 

And goodbye.

So I was aware of this pattern, and when I was feeling the blues Wednesday morning, I thought I was just feeling the Wednesday blues.   Then the hits started coming.  I realized that my two year old Lucy had lice.

Now days at Citychurch, if you are involved in a Citychurch camp, lice is part of the plan.  It's in the camp budget.  Lice checks are done before we load them into a van.  It's just a fact of life in inner-city mission work.  We have a saying at our church.  It is one of our ten truths that my father in law Don Lane wrote when we started the church.  "It will all wash off or we will find something to kill it."

Back at camp, I didn't know what to do about Lucy's lice.  Lucy and I had been sleeping together.  So I checked my head.  I had lice.

I'm itching just writing this.

I don't know if you've ever had lice before, but it gets you mentally.  You feel violated.  Parasites are living on you, and you didn't even know it.  You feel like all your fears of what a white-trash, slob you are are finally confirmed.  It's depressing man.

I wanted to go home.  The reason I didn't get in my car and leave was two things.  One, my husband said,  "We only have one more day left of camp.  Just stay; we can deal with it when we get home."  Reason two was Donnie had asked me to share my testimony with the group the next night.  I didn't want to not do the one thing he had asked me to contribute to the camp.

So I stayed.  I let the parasites occupy my head and my daughters head for one more night.

I was feeling pretty crummy the next morning.  It was our last day of camp.  I was trying to hang in there that last day, but I was feeling attacked.  Mentally I was pretty kaput.  It was lunch time, and I was lingering around the cabins feeling sorry for my lice-having self.

My husband James came and found me to give me one of his world-famous pep talks.  (He's a pro at let's get out of the dumps chats.  If you ever need one, I can give you his number.)  He convinced me to go get some lunch.

As we were walking across the bridge to the cafeteria, I was stung by a wasp.  I broke down.  I balled my eyes out.  It didn't actually hurt that bad, but everything hit me with that sting.

I told God that I was mad he was letting this happen.  I just wanted to be there to help ministry to the kids, and everything was just not fair.  I don't know why you feel better after a good cry, maybe it's a brain chemical thing, but I did.  I had hit rock bottom, and I was ready to see that youth camp to the end.

That night I shared my testimony.  It was the first time I had shared it in front of a group.  Group speaking isn't my thing, but God used my weakness.  A teenage girl came forward to pray and give her life to the Lord.  This teenage girl and I had nothing in common, but God used my story to reach her heart.

I had not expected anyone to respond to my testimony.  I will never forget the feeling when I realized that if I had went home when I wanted to, that camp might have turned out differently.

God had moved.  And I had learned how to stick it out through the devil's attacks to get to that moment when God uses our weakness to accomplish His strength.

This is a lesson I've leaned on so many times in the ministry I've been a part of between then and now.  God showed me that He was faithful to do His work and no matter what the devil throws at me, I can stick it out because God will get me through it.

Unity in the church

"Sorry I'm late.  I was fasting," the young, dark boy says as he rushes into the Read and Feed center.  I am taken aback by this excuse for tardiness from such a young Ethiopian boy.

He drops what he's carrying and joins the other boys and girls in a row, greeting the American visitors.

"Today is an Orthodox holiday," explains the center worker.  "Everyone has been fasting until 3pm."  I try to relate the story in my mind to anything familiar and come back empty.  American Christian children don't fast, at least not in the Bible belt of Texas they don't.

I feel uneasiness in my stomach.  Uneasiness from unfamiliarity.  I am a foreigner.  "For-in-j," as the Ethiopians call us.

Why is this uneasiness over a young boy's religious practices different from the uneasiness of unfamiliarity of a roll of injera bread?

Why is it deeply startling and not interesting and enjoyable to discover?

There is one thing in my life that I can hold true, my anchor of my faith, my forerunner Jesus.  I've grown in Him since turning my life over to Him at 12 years old.  He's grown familiar to me.  I recognize my Shepherd's voice.

When I am faced with other denominations of Christianity.  I feel uncomfortable.  They do and say and worship and think about my Jesus a little differently than I do.

And the truth is, I hate this feeling.  Because it doesn't feel like unity, and I long for unity.

I read Psalms 133.  Sometimes we even sing it in worship, and it feels like the promise of such a beautiful peace among his believers.  It brings out my hippy-dippy side.  I get the warm fuzzies.  I want to make a t-shirt and become one of those "free hugs" crazies.

"Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity!  It is like the precious oil on the head, running down on the beard, on the beard of Aaron, running down on the collar of his robes!  It is like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of Zion!  For there the Lord has commanded the blessing, life forevermore." Psalm 133 ESV

Yet I can't hold onto this feeling.  I didn't have to go to Ethiopia to experience this uneasiness.  I've felt it around friends, even my best friends.   A whole range of things can bring it on.  I've even felt it in my own church.

Last week I was teaching the high school girls Sunday school, and I told them that their dead grandmothers were not watching them and watching out for them every second of everyday.  I told them that Heaven is made aware of when victories for Christ were made (Luke 15:7), but that dead grandmothers were not omnipresent.  And when something happens in their life and they are protected from something, it is the Lord who had protected them, not their dead grandmother (Psalm 121:7.)

I got some evil stares.  They were not stares that weren't good, pleasant, or unifying.

Why I am blogging about unity in the first place?

I'm helping plan a IF:Local, a IF:Amarillo gathering in my town.  The IF organization was started in Austin, TX to gather, equip, and unleash the next generation of women to live out their purpose.  The reasoning behind the name IF is, if God is real, then more than anything, we want to live like it.  This gathering that is happening for the second time this year, is a inner-denominational gathering.  The founder Jennie Allen is very passionate about bringing unity to the body of Christ.

So being knee deep in the planning of bringing hundreds of women in my city together, women from all kinds of denominational backgrounds, I'm looking at my own heart.  I'm searching out where I've brought disunity, and I'm repenting of it.

My suspicion is that we all have feelings of uneasiness when the thing we value most, our faith, looks different for another one of His sheep.

But what if we all set down those uneasy feelings and picked up unity.  What if we poured it over our heads until it ran past the thoughts in our brains and past the feelings under our shirt collars?

What if we glorified God together the way that Romans asks us to do?

"Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God." Romans 15:7 ESV

What if we examined this verse, as not just a pattern for our local church (I do the bulletins, he sings, she teaches,) but a pattern for all believers - the whole church (I teach in Amarillo, TX, he fasts in Addis Abba, Ethiopia.)

"For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgement, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.  For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another."  Romans 12:3-5 ESV

I'm hopeful that unity is growing stronger among Christ believers, and I look forward to the day when it will be perfected in Heaven (Rev. 7:9-17)

What about you?  Do you have things that make you uneasy?  Are you willing to set down those feelings and pick up unity?

How younger siblings can really help you make that love connection.

Since yesterday's post about birthdays, I have been thinking about meeting my husband, James.  We met a week after my 17th birthday so I always think about it when I'm thinking of birthdays.  I remember that I was wearing a brand new outfit that was a birthday present.  I remember I was totally wearing a vest.  Vests were the thing in the mid 90s.  I got all my style ideas from Helen Hunt's character Jamie on Mad About You.

Or maybe I was trying to dress like Paul Reiser, because I found only one picture of Helen Hunt in a vest, and I found 3 pictures of Paul Reiser in vests.

At any rate, it was the 90s and I was wearing a vest.

There was a couple in our church named Jerry and Ida.  They were friends with my family, and they also had become good friends with James's family as well.

On the cusp of this brand new church youth group movement called True Love Waits, Burleson, TX held a city-wide rally.  James's church was going, and Ida and Jerry invited me to tag along.

So that was our first meeting - going to a rally for sexual purity.  

Our poor kids.  They don't stand a chance trying to pull shenanigans when they start dating.

To make things fun for the teens, everyone met at the local Pizza Hut before the rally.  (They changed owners and it's now the Burleson Pizza Company.  This is the building were it all started.)

I'm pretty sure my parents dropped me off.  James hadn't arrived yet.  He had been working on his car all day.

His younger sister Anna was there though.  She proceeded to tell us that James was running late because it took FOREVER to dry his jeans, and that he was SO BIG that he could take up a whole laundry load with one pair of jeans.

She was laying the ground work for our instant attraction, for sure.

So here's the deal.  James and I are both shy.  We are both pretty shy now, but back then we were excruciating shy.  We met that night, and we spent the next three months getting to know each other at church events and outings.  We met in February, and it took until May for James to get the courage to ask me for my phone number.

Neither of us had game.

The night he finally asked me for my phone number, I had brought my 12 year old brother Jason with me to his youth night.  After the Bible lesson.  Here's how it went down.

     James:  "So I was thinking I might ask you for your phone number."

     12 year old brother Jason:  (yelling, quickly and excitedly.) "4473148!"

     Me: Dying of embarrassment.

So if you are out there in internet land wishing you could meet the love of your life and you've got a little bro or little sis, you're going to want them there.  Keep them with you where ever you go.  It worked for me!  And James too!

Here's the thing about our lack of game and our True Love Waits meeting.  It was nerdy and not smooth at all, but I'm completely thankful for our circumstances.  And I'm so thankful for my husband.  He's my favorite person.

Birthdays and numbers

There are 23 days until my 38th birthday.  You can't avoid numbers when you talk about birthdays.  Each year you are stamped with a new number that reminds you of your progress as a human with a limited time here on Earth.  Some things are subjective.  Songs, words, weather, and colors.  We all have our own opinion and feelings about them.  Numbers aren't like that.  They are concrete facts.  The can be sobering and objective.  It is undoubtedly good or bad.  One hundred and two degrees on the thermometer of your kiddo at two in the morning.  There are ten questions and you get 9 right.  Your bank account has less numbers in it than you need, or maybe that number has a negative sign in front of it.  Your team is up by two points, and the game time clock counts down to zero.   There is no arguing with numbers.

So in anticipation of my birthday, I thought I would recount a few memorable birthdays leading up to 38.  And as a homage to numbers, I am going to try to be sobering and honest about those birthdays.

February 6, 1983  This birthday was a big deal to me.  I was turning 6 on the 6th of February.  That would never happen again, and I had learned just enough about numbers in Kindergarten and 1st grade to think it was special.  I had a party at McDonald's, which was very exciting.  It was the thing to do in the 80's.  And I received an amazing gift from my parents, a pink Huffy bicycle.  That bicycle would last me into my teen years.  (Which is not surprising if you know my dad and how well he takes care of possessions.  We moved that thing across the country and back.  I never remember having problems riding it.)  I was over the moon excited about it.  I wouldn't own another bicycle until I was an adult, a Christmas gift from my father-in-law.  I was also over the moon about that bike too.

February 6, 1985  I was crazy about Cabbage Patch Kids.  We had moved to Oklahoma City, and I had made a few friends there.  My parents had a birthday party for me and invited some girls over.  I really wanted a Cabbage Patch Kids cake.  My dad has the most can-do attitude of anyone I know.  My mom baked a cake, and my dad decorated it by drawing a CPK logo on it with icing.

February 6, 1989  I was twelve.  I had finally arrived in the teen category, just like Jessica and Elizabeth from the Sweet Valley books!  On top of that, I was thrilled to be having a slumber party.  We were living in Mansfield, Texas.  Uncharacteristically of that part of Texas, huge snow storm hit, and I wasn't sure any of my friends would be able to come.  Five of them were able to beg their parents to drive on the horrible roads, including my cousins Donna and Rhonda.  (Donna went to be with the Lord a few years ago, and I miss the loving, sympathetic, caring lady she was.)  I got a pretty great birthday present from my parents that year, a Nintendo NES complete with Mario Bros. and that Olympics game that had the pad you could run on.  My mom had wrapped it in white paper, so I could see what I was getting through the paper.  I know how bad my acting skills are now.  I cannot keep a straight face or hide my every thought from it.  I can't imagine how bad I was at acting when I opened that gift.  I remember being so stressed out that I was trying to hide my knowledge of the contents of that present.

February 6, 1993  Sweet sixteen.  I didn't have a fancy party, but it was the best time.  I was far enough into high school to know who my true friends were.  I wasn't trying to impress anyone.  They just came over and we laughed the whole night.  We laughed so much that I was physically in pain by the time they left.

February 6, 2002  John Mayer has this song that says, "I rent a room and I fill the spaces with wood in places to make it feel like home.  But all I feel's alone.  It might be a quarter life crisis or just the stirring in my soul.  Either way I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdictless life.  Am I living it right?"  A quarter life crisis might sound like something made up, but I had one.  I started worrying about wrinkles, applying sunscreen and nightly face cream.  We had just bought our first house.  I had a three year old and a baby on the way.  I was wondering if I had rushed into being a grown up or missed out on something that I should be doing as a 25 year old.  The answer of coarse, I know now, is no.  I didn't miss out on something.  I had a pretty great decade of being twenty something.  But I was worried about it back then.

February 6, 2007  I turned thirty.  I was ecstatic about it.  I felt like I had joined a club.  At that point in my life, most of my friends were home school moms well into their thirties or even forties.  I was such an adult.  I said goodbye to my unauthoritative twenties and welcomed in my thirties.  I had a pretty great party too.  I was exploring new food and cooking new things.  I decided to make everyone falafels.  That's so me.  I made a playlist on my iPod for the party.  That's so me.  The thing I love about turning thirty was finally feeling comfortable about being myself.  One of the guests at my party was Andy Chase.  He brought his guitar and sang happy birthday properly.  He also gifted me this really great drawing of a store kitchen from his childhood.  I have it hanging up and I remember that fun time turning thirty every time I take the time to really look at it.

February 6, 2009  I was going through a rough time.  It was excruciatingly bad.  My social anxiety was kicking my tail.  I didn't know what was wrong with me.  I had days that winter where I didn't get out of bed because I was so paralyzed with anxiety.  I was convinced that everyone in my life thought the worst of me.  I was depressed.  This was a short season of my life, but it was real.  I haven't been cured of social anxiety, but I have learned to deal with it.  God has been faithful to lead me through it.  I didn't realize that birthday what a rough time my mom was having with her depression and anxiety.  All I knew was she didn't call me to wish me a happy birthday.  Since she didn't remind my dad about my birthday, he didn't call me until days later.  It was heartbreaking.  I can look back now and see that my mom was really hurting, and I have truely forgiven her.  But in that place I was at where my thoughts about everyone in my life was skewed and wonky, it was awful.  James's family wanted to celebrate my birthday, but I refused.  I begged and threatened James to let this birthday float downstream.  I warned you that I was going to be honest and sobering didn't I?

February 6, 2010 My mother's depression has spiraled down and hit that place of extreme in January.  So mid-January to mid-February was spent at my parent's house in Houston.  And my birthday was spent in a very untypical fashion, visiting my mom at the mental hospital.  I was 5 months pregnant with my youngest, Gabe.  James took me shopping and bought me the cutest blue maternity dress.  The morning of my birthday, I took out my phone, opened a notepage and ranted.  I got all my mad and ugly feelings out and then I deleted it.  I decided that I had purged the ugly and I was going to choose to be positive.  I was going to be happy my mom was alive, wear my new dress and try to be happy I was having a birthday.  My dad, James, I and went to visit my mom.  It was emotionally draining, but James was there for support.  When we got back to my parents house, several of my dad's brothers and sisters had arrived from Ft. Worth.  They had brought a cake and some presents (all of the presents were really for Gabe, baby clothes and baby things, but they were presents at any rate.)  There are so many reasons I love my dad's family.  They have a closeness and a willingness to help out each other.  They are loving people.  But I just remember that impromptu party being a worrisome ball of nerves for me.  I felt such a spotlight of questions and expectations.  If you have social anxiety, you know any spotlight or attention can be completely nerve-racking.  It isn't their fault, they were trying to be helpful and sweet, but I was so ready to put that birthday to bed.

February 6, 2011  I really don't remember many specifics of this birthday.  I just remember I was happy to be having a normal birthday after my two yucky ones.

February 6, 2014  I had the opportunity to host an IF:Gathering at Citychurch on the 7th and 8th.  I spent most of my birthday getting journals, handouts and decorations ready for the women's event the next day.  I was thrilled to be serving the Lord on my birthday.  After the loss of my father-in-law in 2009 and losing my brother in 2010, I had a new perspective on life.  I was renewed in my fervor and intentions to serve and share Jesus.  I had 12 women attend, and it was a great birthday and a wonderful weekend.

February 6, 2015  It is coming soon, and I know what I will be doing (Lord willing.)  I am knee deep in the trenches with 8 other women planning a city-wide IF:Gathering.  I am again so excited to serve the Lord on my birthday.  I can praise him because He has been faithful in every season of my life.  When I was a hyped-up excited and shy 6 year old, he was there.  When I was a nervous about life 25 year old, he was there.  When I was in the dumps and in despair, He was there.  When I'm loving and serving Him, He is there.  He's my rock and my fortress.  He's my gift and my gift giver.



"I love you, O LORD, my strength.  The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold." Psalm 18:1-2 ESV

"For who is God, but the LORD?  And who is a rock, except our God?— the God who equipped me with strength and made my way blameless."  Psalm 18:31-32 ESV

"Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers.  Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.  Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures." James 1:16-18 ESV