Part II: I Went to CHURCH!

Part II: I Went to CHURCH!

(Please Make Sure You Read Part I First)

I sat in the tattoo parlor in a state of frenzy, mainly because I rushed to get my granddaughter, Victoria, to her appointment.  I wasn’t supposed to be there. I had other plans for my day, but God orchestrated an entirely different one. Melinda’s car broke down, and Ethan had to work. I was the only one who could give her a ride.

As I looked at the various designs on the wall, I wondered what I could do to waste time. This appointment could take time. Victoria had a back piece done by someone less than professional, and Bethany made an appointment with her friend who said he could fix it. So the waiting game began. At times, I wondered what the tattoo artist had playing in the background. It sounded like a protest rally. I finally asked him.

“It’s not coming from here. It’s the crazies next door. Their holding church.” A thin wall separated the church from the tattoo parlor. Now in some people’s book, it could be considered light and darkness coexisting together.

“Really,” I said. “Well, I think I will go to church.”

A mere three feet separated the two worlds from each other. I gently grabbed the handle to the church door, but it seemed locked. I tried again. A young woman opened the door, and I slipped into a chair in the back of the narrow room. Only a dozen or so people were sitting in chairs, but at times they sounded like a 100 or more with their shouts of “Amen” and clapping of hands.

A black woman in a white prayer shawl stood in front of the congregation exhorting the congregation as she wiped the sweat from her brow with a handkerchief. Her words pierced my heart. A few times, I shouted “Amen” along with the rest of the congregation. I later learned when I walked through the door they had already been in church for three hours. THREE HOURS!

Her husband, the pastor, sat at the front in one of the side chairs adorned with white cloth and a purple sash. When he stood in front of the people, his voice was gentle and yet commanding. He began to minister to the people in the chairs. It brought tears to my eyes watching him share the love of Christ. At one point before he closed, he looked at me with his piercing dark eyes.

“What is your name?”

“Kathy.”

He started calling me “Raindrop.” He said I would be like raindrops on a dry and thirsty ground. He said my gray hairs, no silver, would reveal the depth of wisdom I would impart to those around me. This was just the beginning of his prophecy. I honestly do not remember everything he said, which is why I am thankful they are giving me a CD, but I do know that his words sunk deep into my spirit. After a few minutes, he asked me to come forward. His wife anointed my forehead with oil creating the sign of the cross. I looked into this preacher’s eyes as he continued his prophetic word for me. I barely blinked as my eyes looked deep into his. The eyes of Jesus stared back into mine through this man.

Before I go on, I have to preface it by sharing what happened earlier in the day as I was doing my errands after church. I asked God to reveal his purpose for my life. I asked him to show me the direction he wanted me to go in, to direct my footsteps. Then I asked him to do whatever it took and take me to wherever he wanted me to be in his appointed time to show me clearly his direction for my life. Sometimes God tarries and sometimes He moves quickly.

The preacher then said, “You haven’t been doing God’s work lately, have you?” Next, he asked me why? I told him I was busy teaching. He told me God is getting ready to use me and that I would be teaching others about Him. I would be ministering. I would be setting the captive free.

He said I had been captive for a long time, but God was giving me eagle’s wings. I would soar through the heavens and throughout the earth sharing the message of God. What I loved most is when he said he was getting into our family business. He was about to do a work in my family. PRAISE GOD!!!!

He asked if anyone else had a word, and this woman came up to me and put her hand on my heart and said, “God is about to flip your heart. He is going to change it. Rearrange it. Make it into what He wants it to be” When she said those words, I thought of how broken my heart was five years ago. He was healing my heart. On Sunday, Pastor Tallo said, “The comfort we experience can be poured into the body, mind, and spirit of others. We become broken enough to be trusted with His power.” I believe it is exactly what God’s plan was for me, and the evidence of it started that Sunday afternoon.

I have to share an earlier occurrence again before I can explain what happened after my experience at this church next to the tattoo parlor. Our church secretary handed Jerry and I an envelope containing an anonymous gift card of $100 to Wegmans. We just looked at each other. Jerry said, “We don’t need this.” I agreed.  Wegmans was one of my stops as I did my errands after church, and I just felt God saying don’t use the card. 

I walked out of the little church and continued talking with a young woman who shared her heart with me. As she spoke, I heard God saying to give her the gift card. I took it out of my purse and told her that God wanted to bless her for her faithfulness. I wish you could have seen the look on her face. I was blessed. What was meant to be a blessing for us was a blessing for someone who was truly in need.

After our conversation, I went to the laundromat with them because they had some items to wash before they could go home. I watched them witnessing to everyone in the laundromat. I ended up striking up a conversation with a 24-year-old girl. She told me her life story, all of which broke my heart. I shared some of my story with her too. Eventually, she said she believed I was an angel sent by God to talk to her. I told her I wasn’t an angel, but God loved her and wanted her to know it. She asked if I would be her mentor. Ah, the beginning of the prophetic word coming to pass.

My heart is now on fire again. I have experienced his presence, and I want MORE, MORE, MORE!!!! In fact, Melinda and I are going tonight for their Wednesday night teaching. Who knows? There may be a Part III to this story. Yes, I went to CHURCH!!!

Part I: I Went to CHURCH!

Part I: I Went to CHURCH!

            I had one of the most incredible experiences in my walk with Jesus this weekend, but I cannot share the awesomeness of His power without sharing the dark side of my reality. I am going to be brutally honest, which may shock some of you and others not so much.

            I have resided in the dark night of the soul for the past five years. The night my son found out the truth about his biological father, I lost faith. I trusted God. I made promises to God that I would never tell him the truth if he would only protect my son from the harsh realities of his father’s world. The rubber band snapped in my brain the horrifying night of his revelation, and I lost ground. I walked backward, back to Egypt.

            Many of us know the idiom: Mighty oaks from little acorns grow.” In my case, it didn’t cultivate positive results. My seeds of doubt grew into a forest of mistrust and skepticism. Bottom line. I was angry with God. In fact, I said I broke up with God. Even in my lucid moments, I would try to pull myself up out of the miry clay only to be sucked back in because I was doing it by own strength. Unfortunately, when we do things by our own strength, we are a danger to ourselves and others. I didn’t care about myself, but I did care about being a stumbling block to others. Jesus says, “Woe to the man through whom the stumbling block comes” (Matthew 18:7). It scared me.

            On July 11^th, I couldn’t take it anymore. The depression seeped into every pore. The anxiety riddled my brain with doubts about my salvation, so I cried out to God. I felt like Jonah in the belly of the whale.

            “I called out of my distress to the Lord

             And He answered me.

             I cried for help from the depth of Sheol;

             You heard my voice” (Jonah 2:2).

           

            I knew my heart needed to be right. I am thankful that God is “gracious and full of compassion and slow to anger and great in mercy” (Psalm 145:8) because I am a slow learner. I know where sin leads, especially blatant sin. However, there is a deceiving sin as well. We convince ourselves we are okay, but in reality, we are sorely deceived by the enemy of our soul. I determined in my heart to stop letting myself be deceived, to stop being angry with God, and to stop trying to do things on my own strength. I needed to repent and turn, turn and live.

            When we repent, we begin to hear the still small voice of God. Francis Roberts said, “Be obedient to the still small voice. Thine own imaginings may speak more loudly, but wait upon me always.” So true. I was living in a world of my own vain imaginings. I was listening to the deceiving words of those around me, wolves in sheep’s clothing. I had to stop and listen only to the voice of God. I recognized more and more as time went on if my actions did not line up with the truth of God’s word, then I was a sinner falling short of the Glory of God.

            The day after I cried out to God, I wanted Him to speak to my heart. I picked up my phone, and I saw the Daughters of the King app I had put on my phone months before. When I read the words, I nearly fell off the couch and on to my knees. I know this is long, but I hope you will be blessed how God orchestrates everything in our lives so that we may know his heart for us.

           

            I, the Lord, will set things in order for you! I will set you free. I will set your feet on a             firm foundation. I will set you on fire for My glory. Don’t you see? There’s nothing too hard for me. What I set, none can move. What I set in place and establish by My name, no one can undo. When you turn your heart toward Me, I turn to you. I will establish you in my love and remove all your shame. I will set you free and give you a new name. Sin will not dominate you anymore. Fear won’t run your life anymore. Let me set things in order for you. Set your heart on me, and I will bless you. Set your mind on me, and I will show you great and mighty things you’ve never known. Will you let me set you free? Will you let me set you on fire? You are not too hard for me. Your problem is not too challenging for me. It’s a light thing for me to deliver you and plant you in my perfect will. I will bring you out and bring you in. I will set you free to be all I made you to be. This is my will for you. Don’t you see? This is why my child, it’s not too hard for me. Like a caterpillar is destined to be a butterfly, nothing can change your destiny in me. You will be transformed. You will be changed. You will be born anew and you will walk in all that I prepared for you. I will set things in order for you. I will set you free. I will set you on a firm foundation. I will set you on fire for me.

            I am not going to say everything has been perfect since that day I gave it all to God. However, I do know His strength is made perfect in my weakness. I have seen I how far I have come in the past month even though the devil keeps nipping at my heels. I have made strategic moves based on the prompting of the Holy Spirit to break off ties with people who hinder my walk with God. I want to surround myself with people who will encourage me in my faith and not deceive me into believing God has a plan different from what is lined up in His Word.

            Make sure you read Part II. You will see how God orchestrated an unbelievable experience for me. You will also understand why I entitled the series: I Went to CHURCH!

What Really Matters?

After another deadly shooting, I find myself not being able to sleep at night. The protests are warranted; the violence is not. I wholeheartedly agree that Black Lives Matter and in the wake of recent video footage, I am appalled how police officers still found it necessary to shoot and kill a black man who they obviously had under control. However, one bad cop does not warrant killing innocent men and women who put their lives on the line every day to protect and serve. So here are my thoughts in the middle of the night:

God is No Respecter of Persons

The song “Jesus Loves the Little Children” came to mind as I tossed and turned during the night.

Jesus loves the little children

All the children of the world

Red and yellow, black and white

They are precious in his sight

Jesus loves the little children of the world.

This song may be about children, but we are all God’s children. If God is no respecter of persons, then why are we? When I discuss prejudice in the classroom, I always ask each student: “What color do you bleed?” Skin pigmentation, sexual orientation, gender, age, or occupation does not matter to God, so why does it matter so much to us? We all bleed the same color, so why do we argue about whose life matters? I have pondered this question for a while now.

My answer is I know my life matters because God told me it does. I do not need to protest or get in people’s faces about it. There is a quiet assurance in my heart that tells me every day that I matter to God. I also know that all lives matter to God, and they should matter to me. However, the question still remains in my heart. So what matters?

Compassion Matters: I need to show compassion toward my fellow man. I wept when I saw the young man cry out, “I want my daddy” after police officers killed his father. His father’s life mattered to him. I have heard people say he was a thug, so he deserved it. NO!!!! His life mattered.

When the terrorist attack occurred in Orlando, I wanted to hug every gay friend I had and tell them how sorry I was for the emotional turmoil this tragedy caused them. Compassion is what matters.

Think about ways you can show compassion to those around you.  

Mercy Matters: Extending mercy and grace to others is the greatest form of demonstrating God’s love. In 2008, while walking to my classroom, a planned fight occurred between several girls. I ended up in the middle of the fight and, of course, could not fight back. They hit my head so hard against the locker I was knocked unconscious. During the superintendent’s hearing, one of the girls kept saying she never touched me. I finally looked her in the eye and said, “It doesn’t matter. I forgive you.” She cried. A month letter I received letters from several of the girls apologizing for their action. MERCY! We need to extend the hand of mercy. Where would we be without God’s mercy and grace?

Are there ways you can extend the hand of mercy when you feel wronged?

Respect Matters: One important lesson I have learned as an educator is if you want respect, you need to earn it. It does not matter what profession you have. You have to earn respect. Respect should not be given out to police officers simply because they wear the uniform any more than it should be given to a pastor because he stands at a pulpit, or a teacher because she stands in front of a classroom instructing her students or a surgeon who stands at the operating table. Respect is earned. If you want society to respect you, then make sure your actions speak louder than your words.

Be peace. Be change. Be love.

Freedom Matters: I believe in our right to peacefully protest. I have done it in the past but protest because you are passionate about what you believe in and want to see change. Don’t do it simply because you are angry about injustice. Do it because you want to make a difference. Anger only fuels the fires of racism and inequality. Passion fuels the fires of change.

Hard Work Matters: We taught our children hard work would get you more places than a sense of entitlement. The world owes you nothing. My son recently wrote a post on Facebook that says it all.

"My father taught me many things but, above all, he taught me if you work hard and put everything you have into something, you will be successful. I don't have a fancy education or degree. I just know that I will work ten times harder than the other guy. He never stopped believing in me, and now it is paying off. It has put us in a position to live out my dream of owning a restaurant and letting him retire comfortably someday. I thank God for him...Work hard and people will notice you and you will succeed."

Having a strong work ethic matters in this world. Go out there and work not just for yourself, but for your fellow man. Working with Streets for Christ feeding the homeless in Rochester was one of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had. Giving instead of taking is a blessing to your community and to yourself.

Love Matters: I believe in showing the love of God. I believe in living like Jesus did. I believe that my Father loves his creation with a powerful and undying love, and he expects the same from me.  I also know that when I say I am a Christian, I see the look in people’s eyes. “Oh, you are one of them.” No., I am not. I am anti-religion and pro-Jesus. I am not judgmental and, quite frankly, the actions of organized religion often makes me uncomfortable. All God called me to do is LOVE. “Love your neighbor as yourself” is what matters. Do I find it hard to do sometimes? Yes, especially when I operate out of fear. When the killings at Pulse in Orlando happened, my heart needed a checkup. I wanted to close the borders, but God spoke to my heart. Even in death, LOVE! Even when the world is going awry, LOVE!

How can you demonstrate love today?

So for me, these are the things that matter. We all need to examine our hearts and recognize that all lives matter to God. I will be the first to examine my heart. How about you?

Stand in Solidarity

“My thoughts and prayers are with you.” It is usually a sympathetic response to someone who has experienced pain and loss. Let’s get real. Sometimes it is a pat answer to tragedy, trite in nature. Do we honestly pray? Do we get down on our knees and petition God to fix things by intervening with his power and might?

I thought about this common response in the aftermath of the Orlando shooting. When I watched the news report and saw civilians carrying bodies down the street, I wept. I WEPT. I did not just weep because of the senseless violence. I wept because it was an act against the LGBT community. I wept because I knew what was coming. I wept because I knew that hatred would cross lines and people would NOT be doing what they should be doing – coming together in solidarity and grieving as a nation.

Social media has stirred the pot of hatred. I took a deep breath and spoke a word of prayer this morning when a member of the LGBT community yelled at someone on Facebook for not understanding because they were not gay. We do understand. Ask the parents of Sandy Hook. They understand. Ask the families of Christian men who have been beheaded by ISIS because of their faith. They understand. Ask the black community about their plight. They understand. I pray for solidarity.

On the other side of the coin, I have seen hatred spewed on every front from Republicans to Democrats. Stop using this tragedy for your agenda. A former student spoke truth when she quoted Abraham Lincoln. “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” We need to come together as a nation. The hatred is only creating chaos, and the terrorists are probably sitting back and laughing at our stupidity. Think of how they stand in solidarity against us. Wake up America. I pray for solidarity.

Let’s stop saying “My thoughts and prayers are with you” and learn how to go into the War Room and do battle in prayer. Get on your knees. Get on your face. PRAY like you mean it. Contrary to what some people are saying, prayer does change things when action accompanies it. Think of Jesus. Before his crucifixion, he was troubled in spirit, so he went into the garden to pray. Luke 22: 44 says, “And being in agony He was praying very fervently; and His sweat became like drops of blood falling down upon the ground.” How many of us pray that fervently? I doubt many of us do.

Again, Jesus did not just pray. He followed through with an action. His action was so filled with love that it required his death. How many of us are willing to love to the point of death for the LGBT community? Or do you find it easier to simply say, “My thoughts and prayers are with you?”

Finally, I am a Christian. I stand with the LGBT community. I am a prayer warrior for God, and I do go into my War Room and do battle on my knees.

Father, help us to have expressions of love versus hatred. Unite our nation and help us to stop being so judgmental. Let us stand in solidarity. Comfort the hearts of those who have lost loved ones. Alleviate the fear from the hearts and minds of the LGBT community. Give us all the grace to be more accepting. Most of all, I pray for the Army of heaven to fight against the evil coming against our nation and world. I pray for solidarity.  

I Am Passing Through the Refiner's Fire

“Why are you in despair, my soul? Hope in God, because I will praise him once again, since his presence saves me and he is my God.” Psalm 43:5

           

            I am writing this to my own soul today. I am struggling with fear, doubt, and depression. It happens to me sometimes, but right now the walls are crumbling down around me. They are familiar walls, and it is the very reason for my despair. When I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer seventeen years ago, the days prior to my diagnosis were filled with God speaking to me about the refiner’s fire. I knew I was about to face the purifying hand of God in my life, and I did. While chemotherapy was killing cells, God was clearing away the dirt and grime of my sin. Zachariah 13:9 says, “And I will bring the third part through the fire. I will refine them like silver and test them like gold. They will call on my name, and I will answer them. I will say ‘They are my people,’ and they will say, 'The Lord is our God.’”I don’t know how many times I called on God during those grueling days. I was desperate for Him. I needed him. I surrendered my will to HIS will, and I hungered and thirsted only for Him. He heard me. He really heard me. He delivered me not only from cancer but from my former self. It was a battle, but I survived by the purifying hand of God.  

            Now I am facing uncertainty again, and God is saying, “Trust me.” Last year, I had an infection in my jaw that was taken care of by a round of antibiotics. To make a long story short, I have seen an endodontist and my dentist, and I have had four infections since November with no concrete answers. This week I decided to go to my medical doctor who is sending me for a bone scan to rule out a mass. He did a blood marker test and made an appointment with his dentist who can check for osteomyelitis.

            It is a time when I am drawing near to God because I am so desperate. I am not eager to go through the refiner’s fire again. But, maybe I need it. Maybe I need the drenching of my soul with God’s purifying touch. The past few months I’ve realized how much I need to come to a place of surrender. I have seen the ugliness of my heart, and it isn’t pretty. Anger surfaces within me, an anger I thought had dissipated from my life a long time ago. Seeds of doubt have crushed my spirit to the point I am now a withered plant needing to be drenched by refreshing streams. At times, I have wanted to abandon my storm-battered ship, but I have stirred up every ounce of strength I’ve had left to persevere and sail on. In other words, I have been a mess to the point that I doubted if God could love a sinner like me.

            So here I am again, awaiting the news and knowing that no matter what storms I may pass through again, God is with me. He is my anchor in the storm. He is the purifier of my soul. He is the rushing wind of change. He is the refreshing rain after a season of bone dry faith. He is a God who loves me, even in the ugliness of my sin.

            As I speak openly to my soul, I know that many of you can identify with my circumstances. Please pray for me, but also let me pray for you. With Jesus by our side, we will weather this storm together.

           

           

He’s My Son

      This morning I listened to the song “He’s My Son” by Mark Shultz. The moment the first few chords strummed their way into my heart, the sobs welled up deep within the wound of remembrance.  The first time I ever heard the song was after my son, Brandon’s, appendix burst and his bowel perforated. I watched him suffer for months, and the helplessness I experienced kept me awake at night pacing the floor in prayers of petition. At times, I did not understand why God was not answering my prayers. One morning on the way to work, I cried out to God, “Let me take his pain.” Immediately after I made my request, “He’s My Son” came on the radio. I pulled over to the side of the road. My mother’s heart could no longer contain the sorrow. I put my head on the steering wheel and wept because I knew God understood my anguish. A mother’s heart is so deeply rooted in wanting to protect her children from harm. When things happen beyond our control, it is a bone-crushing devastating nightmare. The feeling of helplessness overwhelms us.  Our soul cries out to God, but at the same time, we are crushed in spirit.  I lived through my own ordeal with cancer, but when it came to almost losing my son, I wanted to give up. I could not go on living without him. By God’s grace,  I kept fighting. I could not let my anguish be wasted pain.  I had to be a warrior mom for him, so I got on my knees before God over and over again, storming the gates of heaven, and asking for healing, but most of all for His will to be done. It took nearly a year, but the healing process finally started. Six months later, Brandon contracted viral meningitis. How could I not scream out, “God, why? Don’t you see? He’s not just anyone. He’s my son.” After months of speech therapy, vocational therapy, and physical therapy, Brandon slowly made progress. To this day, my heart still cries out to God for him when I see him struggle. The debilitating disease that caused his appendix to burst and bowel to perforate still fights against his physical body, which is why the song still hits home even today.

               Brandon isn’t the only son who has struggled with life’s challenges.  My son, Geoffrey, has faced his own battles. At his birth, I took on the role of protector because I thought I was the only one who could do it. In his late teens, I watched him fight a drug addiction that could have taken his life if God had not intervened. I am the one who watched him fade into nothingness from the drug’s power. I am the one who sat with him in those first few days as he fought through withdrawal without help from a rehab clinic. I was the one who protected him for eighteen years from knowing his mother’s fears, his familial roots, his biological father.  However, I know that Jesus sat with me during those times. I was not alone nor was he. I saw the near destruction of my relationship with him, only to see God make it stronger. Do I still try to protect him? Yes. It is instinctual. Most mothers want to protect their children. When I see the strong man he has become today, I know God’s hand will guide him, even when I am not around to try my version of protection.

              When I think of both of my son’s perilous journeys, I think of the song “He’s My Son” because I can imagine God, the Father, saying the very same thing when he sent his son to the cross to die for our sins. I can imagine Him watching the beatings, the nails driven into his hands and feet, and the final breath he took. I can imagine his grief when His son asked Him to take the cup of suffering from him, but how He rejoiced in his son’s willingness to complete His purpose. God knows my mother’s heart because it is His heart too. Jesus was not just anyone. He was God’s only son. I know many parents who have lost children. It is the hardest journey a mother, or father for that matter, can take. However, knowing God experienced your sorrow makes it just a little easier to bear. I will never say it takes away all of the pain, but I know even in the midst of a grief-stricken heart, a peace that passes all understanding is there for the asking. God’s peace is what keeps my heart and mind at rest. So when I continue to worry about my boys, I will remember the one hard truth. God knows my mother’s heart. He knows! I will rest on the lap of God and simply listen to his heartbeat. I have said it before when we allow our hearts to beat in sync with His, we are at peace in all circumstances. 

Change of Season

            I admit sometimes I need a backbone. When voices rise against me or circumstances are overwhelming, I stand in the corner and shake like a frightened animal. Can you see it? The trembling limbs, the chattering teeth, and the halted breath. Last Sunday, for the first time in five years, I had an anxiety attack. During praise and worship, I could not catch my breath. Panic set in. I thought my heart was going to stop beating. Is this the season of anxiety? I hope not.

            The next day while teaching, I felt overwhelmed by my circumstances. I felt like I was in an onslaught of slinging arrows. Don’t worry. My students are not necessarily the enemy. It is the lion that at first whispers, then growls, and then roars. Thankfully, God brought one simple truth to mind. “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6). I understand this truth having lived through many trials and tribulations. Even so,  I still crumble when adversity first strikes. After years of living through raging storms, I wish I remembered that my God is faithful.

            Dependent on where you live, weather related storms are often seasonal. As I write this blog, I can attest to the winter storms being something we often face. We are in the midst of a blizzard (see picture). We have a saying in Rochester – if you don’t like the weather, wait a few minutes, it will change. It is because weather patterns are fleeting and so are our circumstances. The storms we face in our Christian walk are but for a season. I have seen the season of a failed marriage, a cancer journey, a son’s near death, and another son’s drug addiction. God stood with me through each storm. He did not leave me. In fact, He reminded me again and again that he would never leave my side. Another verse often came to mind when I was on the battle front: “Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God’s ( 2 Chronicles 20:15).  Sometimes the vast army is my doubts and fears about the outcome, but recognizing it is not my battle makes raising my sword much easier.

            I am going through another battle season right now. A season of questioning where I think I need to be, where God purposed me to be, and where I ultimately want to be. Can I say it is a raging storm in my head? YES!!!! It is a hurricane of doubt, fear, and hope.  Sometimes I think I need to be where I am,  and I become confused because it is a seemingly good choice. After all, I am doing God’s work. I am doing His ministry. However, when I see myself becoming so busy that I don’t even have time for my daily devotions, I question whether it is truly where God wants me to be.  I learned a long time ago the word “busy” is simply an acronym for “being under Satan’s yoke.” I don’t want to be under his yoke because God’s yoke is easy and His burden is light.

            I also have to question whether God purposed me to be in this assignment for a season, so he could build character in me and teach me His ways, especially since I am such a wandering carefree spirit.  James 1: 2-4 holds valuable truths about obtaining character:

            Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters whenever you face trials of many kinds because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

            I haven’t been counting it joy lately, and neither has my husband. He is watching me weather the storm with very little strength left to run the race with perseverance. He has seen the tears. He has seen the striving. He is concerned, but he, like me, knows it is only for a season.

            When it comes to what I  want to do, as long as it is in line with God’s Word, I know in due season, he will grant me the desires of my heart. Psalm 37: 4 says, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” God knows my heart’s desire. He knows me so well. I will take delight in this season of trials, turmoil, and chaos knowing that God is helping me run the race. Dayton Reynolds, my pastor many  years ago, said, “The will of God won’t lead you where the grace of God can’t keep you.” I know God led to this valley for a season, and He will sustain me through the journey. Psalms 46: 1 says, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” In the Midwest, during tornado season, many people move to storm shelters until the tornado passes. My storm shelter is sitting on the lap of God and listening to his heartbeat. As I listen and rest in Him, my heart begins to beat in perfect synchronicity with His. It is what I want right now. If you are going through a season like mine, pray this prayer with me:

            Father, thank you for this seasonal storm because I know it is building character within   me. Help me to persevere, but at the same time help me to rest in your loving arms    knowing the battle is not mine, but yours. It may rage, but you are my refuge and strength. I hold fast to your word of truth, and I cling to the promises you have given me.You will grant me the desires of my heart in due season.