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. 

A Heart of Thankfulness

Do you have weeds in your garden? I know I do. I live near the Genesee River where the ground is moist, the perfect condition for Stinging Nettle. I am not sure if they choke the life out of my flowers, but I do know from experience that removing them is sometimes hazardous. Similar to hypodermic needles, Stinging Nettle has fine hairs on their leaves and stems. When they touch the skin, they release chemicals like acid, which, in most cases, causes a burning and itching rash lasting for days.

Metaphorically speaking I often have weeds in my life that choke the good things from growing and removing them is often painful. Yesterday, a visiting pastor from Elim Bible Institute, told us about how the weeds come into being and, believe me, it made sense. The devil discreetly whispers questions to us; and when he does, the seed is planted if we think about what he says, mull it over for a while, and eventually think it is true. It takes root in our soul, and it chokes out the one thing we need in our lives: thankfulness to God for his mercy, his love, his provisions, and his salvation. One of the weeds the pastor mentioned was worrying. This is the seed of the stinging nettle, which often takes root in my life.

I am a worrywart, born and raised to be one. My grandmother worried herself to a weak heart, and my mother has had cause to worry most of her life and has done it well. My heart is often wracked with worry. I take it to God in prayer. However, when my prayers seem to go unanswered, I hear the whispers of the devil saying, “He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t care about your needs. Why should you bother praying when your prayers are really just hitting the ceiling?” When I begin to think God isn’t listening to me, the whispered lies of the devil plants seeds of doubt and they begin to take root.

The pastor mentioned the story of Jesus on the boat with his disciples, and when a gale force wind caused the waves to fiercely crash against the vessel, the disciples freaked out while Jesus slept on a cushion. It isn’t much different from my own life. When life’s struggles become like crashing waves against the security of my boat, my world, the seeds of doubt are often planted. I wonder if God is somewhere else, asleep, not listening to my needs. I question why he isn’t doing anything. My children are my greatest worry, and I often question why they are still going through so many struggles?

I Peter 5:7 says, “Cast all of your cares on Him because He cares for you.” When I allow the devil to whisper in my ear, “God, doesn’t care about you. Nothing is happening,” I begin planting the seeds of doubt. I cannot question his care in the midst of my storm. I have to have confidence in the one TRUE fact: HE CARES FOR ME. There have been times when I have believed with all my heart that he cares, and I have stepped out of the boat in faith knowing he would answer my prayers, but when the devil whispered in my ear, the seed of doubt planted; and I began to sink, sink, and sink further into my despair and worry.

Yesterday, I learned a valuable tool for pulling the weeds of doubt from my life. BE THANKFUL!!!! It sounds easy doesn’t it? It really isn’t because sometimes the Stinging Nettle brushes against our skin releasing its poison. BUT we must persevere. We must put on the gloves of the Holy Spirit, and pull those weeds of worry and doubt from our life. Something remarkable happens too. The darkness breaks, and God illuminates His truth to all the seeds the devil has planted making you needlessly worry.  The pastor said yesterday how thankfulness is like an antibiotic. I thought about what he said and it makes sense. Thankfulness heals the Stinging Nettle of doubt and worry in my life.

After the sermon yesterday, I started thanking God for the positive in each of the situations I have been worried about when it comes to my children. I felt a release. By thanking God, I began the process of cleaning out my spiritual garden. I don’t know about you, but I want the garden of my life to be beautiful. I don’t want Stinging Nettles being the only plant people see in my garden. I don’t want to make it so no one wants to come near me for fear of being stung by the nettles of my worry and doubt. I want my thankfulness to God for his mercy, his love, and his salvation to be what others see.

So be thankful today. Lift your eyes and give thanks to God in the midst of your storms. Meditate on this verse today:

“It is good to give thanks to the Lord. And to sing praises to Your name, O Most High; To declare Your lovingkindness in the morning and your faithfulness by night” (Psalm 92: 1-2).

I wake up at 5:00 A.M. to write before I head off to teach at MCC. The morning I wrote this blog, I didn’t have time to post it, and it didn’t matter because I like it to sit and marinate before I do. Later that evening and the following morning, I understood the magnitude of why thankfulness is important to our relationship with God and our mental wellbeing. A colleague sent me a message putting me into a meltdown of fear, anxiety, and worry. They may seem like synonyms for the same state of being, but they are very different in my life. My fear is the heart palpitating feeling of dread; my anxiety stems from my generalized anxiety disorder – it hits my mind like a wave of panic and I feel like I am losing it;  my worry is the nail-biting, pace the floor, I don’t know what I should do feeling. The devil whispered in my ear that night. I listened. I threw myself into an absolute tizzy, lasting for hours. I went to bed spent and basically had thrown in the towel. I believed I didn’t hear the voice of God in my recent decisions. I had missed the mark, screwed up, and made a monumental mistake. One whisper planted the seed of doubt and fear in my life. One whisper may have thrown my life off course. One whisper.

I prayed I would have clarity as I drifted off to what I thought would be a fitful sleep. I swear I slept cradled in the arms of God that night. In the morning, when my feet hit the floor, I began to thank God. I thanked him for giving me the gift of teaching. I thanked him for the choices I had made and how I knew they would stretch me beyond my imagination. I thanked God His mercies are new every morning. Thanking God set me free from all my doubts and worries. Thanking God helped me to see the whispered lies of the enemy and, quite honestly, how he built his deception to be more of an issue than it really was because he knew if I listened the Stinging Nettle would grow in my garden and choke out the significant opportunities he has instore for me, so I am thankful today for the lessons I learned this week. I am thankful I had an opportunity to put them into practice.

If the devil whispers in your ear and plants seeds of doubt and worry, or worse yet, Stinging Nettle, think of the good within the situation. Ask God to give you new eyes. Even before He shows you the truth, begin to thank Him. I promise you it will make a monumental difference both spiritually and emotionally. 

Still My Soul Be Still

In the wake of the ISIS attacks in Paris on Friday and the double-suicide bombing in Lebanon, I need to tell my soul to be still. The winds of change are raging in a world where there is no love of God, no moral compass, and no regard for humanity. Believing God is at my side is what I cling to; otherwise, I would fear the coming persecution.

The chorus: “God You are my God, and I will trust in you and not be shaken” is hard for me. I will not lie. I am shaken to the core of my being, my soul. My husband and I are supposed to fly to Puerto Rico in February to take a cruise through the Caribbean. I don’t want to go. My thoughts race to the Russian plane brought down by ISIS, and I question whether it is safe to fly. A cruise ship is manned by people from many nations.  Do I trust they won’t bring a bomb on the ship? Yes, paranoia has set in. My daughter tells me when I refuse to do what I love out of fear, ISIS wins. That’s why I have to make the declaration: “Lord of peace renew a steadfast spirit within me to rest in YOU alone.”

Psalm 62:5 says, “My soul waits in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him.” Silence is the hard part. Sometimes when the world rages against us, in our frenzy me make it an “Act of War.” Silence is a posture. It says, “I trust in you God to be my salvation, to be my defender, and to be my ONLY hope.” Silence is when we should be on our knees, humbly asking God for mercy.

Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations. I will be exalted in the earth.” We have to take confidence in this truth. I admit it is hard when we hear of Christians being persecuted and beheaded by ISIS. God knew what we would face in the latter days. He provided a deep truth to us in this scripture. ”BE STILL and KNOW THAT I AM GOD.” Remember how I said it was a posture? II Chronicles 20:17 says, “You will not need to fight in this battle. Stand firm, hold your position, and see the salvation of the Lord on your behalf…” So the battle is not ours. It is God’s. We just need to be still, stand firm, and hold our position. We will see the salvation of God. He will be exalted in the nations.

Our hope should be in God because the day is dimming. But the light of God shines brighter than ever. The light is in us. We need to extend it to those who are fearful. Thousands of refugees are fleeing the turmoil in their countries. After what just happened in Paris, they, too, will face persecution. Let’s not fall prey to fear. What would Jesus do? He would want us to love them, embrace them, and protect them. I understand your fear. My mind says, “Close the borders. Don’t let them in. They are dangerous.” But my heart says, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed” (Luke 4:18).


Today, tell your soul to be still. Take a posture of silence. See God work in the midst of chaos. BE STILL and KNOW HE IS GOD!!!!

Chasing Aggressive Love

The evidence of man’s inhumanity to man grieves my heart, my soul, and my mind. David Andreatta, a columnist with the Democrat & Chronicle, quoted Edward Watson’s statement to Mayor Lovely Warren after the tragedy at the Boys and Girls Club on Genesee Street. He stated,” Blacks are murdering blacks every 32 hours.” Gun violence in our city is out of control. I can’t even turn on the news without hearing about shootings in the City of Rochester. Does someone have to open fire every night?

Don’t even get me started on Russian planes exploding in the sky because of ISIS bombs or Christians crucified and beheaded in Middle Eastern countries. Yesterday, four students were stabbed at the University of California. Not long ago, gun violence hit a community college in Oregon. I watched a music video last night because the title caught my attention. It was “Take Me to Church” by Hozier. The longer I watched, the sicker my heart became. No. I wanted to throw up. By the time the video was finished, I felt like someone punched me in the stomach, mainly because I knew it was based on a harsh reality. Gay men in Russia are killed by men dressed in hoodies very similar to the Ku Klux Klan in their white robes who killed black men out of their hatred. Where is the humanity?

Movie theatres, college campuses, elementary schools, malls, the Twin Towers – What is next?

Now I must speak from the heart. On Halloween night, my granddaughter attended a house party in Henrietta; fortunately, she now realizes it was not the place to be. A fight ensued, and my granddaughter was thrown against the wall when she tried to help her friend. The police broke up the party after a 911 call came in that shots were fired on the premises. My heart sank. No, my knees hit the floor. When it hits a little closer to home, you take notice.

I recently had a student in my ENG 101 class who stated that he didn’t care about the gun violence in the city because it didn’t affect him. He lived in the suburbs. I wondered if he thought the suburbs had a moat and fortified walls to protect him. I looked at him and said, “No one is immune.” Unfortunately, man’s inhumanity to man is growing more violent every day.  There are so many reasons for gun violence; in fact, there are too many to even begin to mention on this blog post. No one is immune to the spiritual condition of the fallen man.

What I have come to understand is humanity’s last breath is one of hatred versus love. I know this post sounds like it came from Debbie Downer or Negative Nancy, but hopefully Encouraging Eva will take you on a journey toward making the difference by creating a proposal toward a climate of change.

My prayer this morning was “Father, teach me to love as you have loved. Let my fear and hatred melt away. Give me the grace to accept the things I cannot change, but show me the ways I can extend my love. Teach me Lord for my ways are not your ways.” He answered me immediately in His Word. Today, my devotions came from Philippians 1. I didn’t look for the answer. Philippians just happened to be the next chapter in my morning devotions.

Philippians 1:9 says, “And this I pray, that your LOVE may abound still more and more in real knowledge and all discernment.” I need to aggressively chase after the Love of God, but I also need to aggressively love others. It doesn’t mean I need to be a Bible Thumper and forcefully shove the gospel down people’s throats. No, I need to demonstrate my love through action.

Yesterday, I taught visual rhetoric. One slide on the Power Point presentation showed a little boy with a hand around his throat and tears running down his face. It wasn’t necessarily depicting physical abuse but verbal abuse. On the arm and hand were hurtful words for any child to hear, words like “moron,” “idiot,” and “fool.” After class, a young man came up to me and told me how difficult it was to sit through the presentation, especially when he saw that picture. He shared with me about the verbal abuse he endured from his father, and I could see the tears welling up in his eyes. I gave him a hug. I gave him some counsel about what he could do. My students know I am a Christian. I openly admit it. I am not ashamed to tell them I will pray for them. It is the very reason they come to me when they have a problem.

If God can lavish his love on us, we should be willing to lavish HIS love on those we come in contact with. Who is in your circle of influence? Do you show God’s love by walking a mile in their shoes? Do you empathize with them when they are going through a hard time? Do you offer to pray for them?

I Thessalonians 3:12 says, “…and may the Lord cause you to increase and abound in love for one another, and for all people…”

I cannot pick and choose who I am going to love. I need to love the person who shoved my granddaughter into a wall. I need to love the people who have hurt me with their words and actions. I need to love the unlovable. I believe we are coming into a horrific time in our world. Christians may need to stand up to the atrocities against the church. In standing, we will be marked. Do I love the persecutor? Yes. It is my calling. “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44). Love is not an option. It is a command.

I challenge you today to aggressively chase the love of Go, which is already readily available to you. Next, aggressively love not only the people of God within your church circles, but love the people outside the body of Christ. Love them into the kingdom. Love aggressively!

Riding the Carousel

Have you ever been tired of living on the merry-go-round? You set your course, but the winds of doubt and fear, the perils of poor choices, or the closed doors of opportunity  keep you going around and around on the carousel of life. It’s frustrating. I know. I have been living it for the past seven years.

Every morning I pick up my phone when I get out of bed and look at my Facebook memories, which is a history of my postings on that date since 2008. This morning I read the post “Recuperating after a beating by two students this morning.” My first step onto the merry-go-round started that day.

I didn’t teach first period, so I often walked into the building as classes started. On Oct. 27, 2008 I walked down the hallway to my classroom, which was situated in the middle of the hall. Just before I reached my door, a group of girls rushed from each end of the hallway. I found myself in the middle of a fight planned on Facebook. I put my hand up and yelled, “Stop.” They didn’t. Fists hit my head. My body hit the lockers with such force, I collapsed to the floor. When I tried to get up on my feet again, the final blow hit my head and my world began its spin out of control.

Once the merry-go-round took its first turn, fear set in. Every time I walked the halls of Greece Athena high school, my heart flew into a rage and beat furiously like it wanted to escape my reality. Teachers were required to stand in the hallway between classes. I could not do it. I stood just inside my door, ready to slam it shut if I saw any evidence of danger. Fear engulfed me. It wouldn’t let me breathe. It knew no boundaries. I had headaches, stomach aches, and anxiety attacks. I was a mess. My course load had been five sections of AP Language and Composition. I had the good kids. When they told me I would be teaching three sections of AP, one section of English 11, and one section of a co-taught class with a special education teacher, my fear spiraled out of control. What if I ended up with the type of students who beat me up? Fear fought with my rational mind and won. I began to doubt my ability to be an effective teacher for Greece.

I put in my resignation shortly before the school year ended. Was it a poor choice? Possibly. I started teaching more classes at MCC and loved it. I felt I had made a good decision, and the adjunct coordinators who observed my classes were impressed by my teaching strategies. When I made the decision to apply full-time, I didn’t have enough hours in my discipline, so I applied to Goddard College for a M.F.A in Creative Nonfiction. The day I received my personal phone call from Elena Georgiou to say I was accepted made me believe my ride on the carousel finally stopped. Not quite!

Shortly before I graduated, I applied for the full-time position at MCC. I made it through the first round of interviews, which was a phone interview. I found out I was the only adjunct to make it through the first round. The next step was the face-to-face interview where I had to teach a 30-minute class on paraphrasing. The faculty acted like third graders and I had to show my class management style. I found myself stepping back on to the merry-go-round when I found out I was the runner-up for the job. They hired a guy from the University of Buffalo who had just obtained his PhD.

For the past few years I have been riding the merry-go-round wondering when it will end. I never know each semester if I will have classes. Now I am facing a new quandary, an offer from a private high school in the wake of receiving news that there may not be any classes for adjuncts in the spring semester. How do I get off this merry-go-round?

"For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future" (Jeremiah 29:11). When I feel the carousel spinning out of control, I remember God has my back. I also remember the word he gave me several years ago. He promised me he would simplify my life, but there were steps I needed to take. Perhaps my constant spinning is bringing me to the simplified place God promised. I am a highly driven person. I rarely relax. I laugh when I see my son pace the floors. He rarely sits still for more than five minutes. I guess the apple doesn’t fall from the tree. I may put myself on the merry-go-round at times because I am so driven, but God is still going to bring me to the place he wants me to be, where he can use me most.

When it comes to my fears, I will remember: "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand" (Isaiah 41:10). God will give me the wisdom to make the right decisions, and He will strengthen me in those moments when I am overwhelmed by the spinning carousel. There are 33 verses in the Bible about not fearing, so why should I fear. Pastor Dayton Reynolds used to say, "If you worry you are going to die. If you don't worry, you are going to die. So why worry?" He had a point. Worrying about everything is not going to change anything.
When it comes to my choices, I will remember: "And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, "This is the way, walk in it," when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left" (Isaiah 30:21). It is a blessing to know I have a spiritual GPS in the form of the Holy Spirit guiding me very step of the way. I am a person who gets easily lost. Several years ago, I went to a retreat at Elim Bible Institute. I made a wrong turn on the way home and ended up on a desolate road to nowhere. After that night, my son bought me a GPS. I rely on it now to help me navigate to unfamiliar territory. The Holy Spirit is my guide in spiritual and practical matters. I would lose my way if I didn't know which path to take, or if I didn't listen to His still small voice telling me which way to go.  
When it comes to closed doors of opportunity, I will remember: "Continue to ask, and God will give to you. Continue to search, and you will find. Continue to knock, and the door will open for you (Matthew 7:7-8). Sometimes God closes the door, and hindsight always shows me why. When my husband and I submitted a full-price offer for a house in Vermont in 1998, it was rejected. We couldn't understand why. We found a home a month later we loved dearly. Three months after we moved into the house, I was diagnosed with borderline ovarian cancer. If we purchased the home that depended on both of our incomes, we would have sank into the mire of debt. God was protecting us. I have a friend who stands by the old cliché: "When God closes a door, he opens a window." In some cases this may be true, but I stand by the notion that God doesn't always give us everything we want; but he does give us everything we need. So when I get depressed by closed doors, I have to remind myself that I need to keep approaching the throne of grace and asking God to lead me, to guide me, and to direct me in the paths he wants me to go.
I am at the place right now. I don't know what next semester will bring, but I know I am ready to get off the merry-go-round. I am ready to walk the path God has ordained for me. I need to trust and, most of all, I need to obey.

            If you feel like your life is spinning out of control, take it from someone who has been there, God has a plan for you. Do not fear. Let God take your hand as he leads you in the paths of righteousness. He's got your back!

The Power of Forgiveness

In March of 2011, I experienced something I’ve never thought possible, especially since I tend to have the gift of mercy. A venomous hatred seethed from my heart toward someone who hurt my family in the worst possible way. I hate to admit this, but if she were standing in front of me at the time, I would probably be spending life in prison. I know. It sounds horrible. How could a Christian woman say such horrific things?

I referred to her as the master manipulator and destroyer. I have never felt such animosity toward a person as I did that fateful night. For months, I carried the weight of my malice toward her in every part of my body. I fed on my rancor. I let it fester to the point of nearly destroying my soul. I hated her.

God has a way of dealing with us when we find ourselves in the abyss of our own sin, and he did. God never dealt with me harshly; in fact, it was more of a gentle, loving reminder of what His son did for me on the cross. When I felt the nudging of the Holy Spirit to do something about it, a peace settled over my spirit. Best of all, a healing began to take place. The wounds no longer festered. It didn’t hurt anymore. Yes. Unforgiveness causes great pain in our physical bodies.  

I knew my first responsibility was asking God’s forgiveness for judging her and, most of all, for harboring hatred in my soul. Next, I had to forgive her, not just in my heart. I had to say the words. Since our relationship was broken because of what she did and my reaction to it, the only way I could do it was via a text message. I knew she would never answer my phone call. She never responded back, but I still felt free.

In the years since, I have not spoken to her and when we see each other at any of my grandchildren’s school events, I still feel a sense of peace even though she never acknowledges me. I have found myself praying for her over the past year because I know many of the reasons she hurt our family was due to the cycle of addiction. Considering her actions hurt our family immensely, this may seem crazy, but I pray for restoration with all of us.

Bottom line: Forgiveness is a choice. It doesn’t just happen. We have to be willing to follow the Word of God considering the matter.

Ephesians 4:22 says, “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” Compassion is easier than strife. It takes more energy to hold a grudge than to let go and let God do the rest. Most of all, if God can forgive us for our sins, we need to be Christ-like and forgive just as freely.

Some of you may have been hurt over and over again by the same person. You may be asking how often do I need to forgive this person when they are clearly not going to change? Jesus said, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven.” I am not very good at math, but I can tell you it is quite a few times. Forgiving doesn’t mean forgetting. It doesn’t mean you become a door mat or punching bag. It just means you let go of the damaging emotions. Let God build the hedge of protection, so you don’t get hurt again and again.

If at all possible, make amends. If you think it is not possible, remember this: “For nothing is impossible with God” (Luke 1:37). I know this to be true because of my relationship with my ex-husband. We hurt each other tremendously and, if I were to be honest, I hurt him more than he did me. Twelve years after our divorce, he and his wife came to visit our shared daughter while we were living in Vermont. We excused ourselves and went and sat in the dining room. Something extraordinary happened. We both forgave each other for the hurt we caused in our marriage. We are now friends. I have gone to his Christian Motorcycle Association dinner with my daughter and our granddaughters. He came to visit me in Vermont when I was going through my cancer. He has been to my house for dinners and parties with mutual friends. Making amends was a blessing for our daughter, grandchildren, and us.

The battle of unforgiveness isn’t reserved for others; sometimes we need to forgive ourselves. I have done deplorable things to the people I love. I was a runner a majority of my life. I don’t mean running in a marathon, or a local sprint triathlon. I ran to protect myself from anyone I loved, anyone who loved me, or anyone I was supposed to love. In my journeys, I hurt those people, not just a little; I hurt them immeasurably. When I finally put myself at the foot of the cross and asked forgiveness of God, I knew with all of my heart he had forgiven me. But I couldn’t forgive myself. For years I beat myself up over the stupidity of my actions. If I were to be honest, I still have my moments. What I have come to learn is the truth and magnitude of 2 Corinthians 5:17. “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” If the sins of the past are gone, then why do I hold onto them as if they still belong to me? Robin Sharma says, “Stop being a prisoner of your past. Become the architect of your future.”  Holding on to the past does make us a prisoner; letting go and seeing how God can make beauty from ashes is life changing. Become the willing vessel, forgive yourself, and let God be the architect of your future.  

Do you have someone you need to forgive? I implore you to do it. When you forgive, you will be set free. You will also set free the person you are forgiving. God will bless your obedience to forgive as he has forgiven you. If you need to forgive yourself, just do it! You’ve got this! 

When Confidence Wanes

I know why I lack self-confidence, but even in the knowing it doesn’t help shed my pathological need for approval. It doesn’t stop the tyrannical appetite to prove myself capable through taking on more responsibilities or being the professional student who wants to prove her intelligence. Yesterday, my office mate said, “You are so accomplished.” The absurdity of his remark made me laugh.

I struggled academically and emotionally throughout most of my school age years. Although my senior year, when everyone else had senioritis, I pushed myself to be successful by taking on more classes and working a part-time job. Growing up, my world centered on the needs of family, namely my sister. I don’t blame her for my issues. Other factors played a role in the demise of my confidence. Writing a list of all the whiny reasons why would only stir the pot of my daily insecurities, so I will only focus on one. It attached its nasty tentacles to my brain speaking lies about my stupidity while it twisted its long arms around my chest stealing my very breath and giving me anxiety.

I can remember the night so vividly. I stood in the kitchen at my Uncle Jack’s house on Christmas Eve. My mother and my aunt settled against the buffet table talking about their children. Most of the time, Laurie was the topic of their conversation, but I heard my name whispered. It slipped under the carpet and past the door frame to my listening ears. I didn’t do well on my report card and my mother’s tone spoke of her concern. I understood all too well how disappointing I could be when it came to my school work. It’s not as if I didn’t try. I remembered for decades my aunt’s response. “Oh Gail, you know she will never amount to anything more than a housewife.”

The spark ignited the black powder of doubt that followed the trail to my heart, which eventually triggered an explosion of uncertainty about my worth.

Imagine how I felt when I realized my failure at being a housewife, especially with my first marriage. Don’t even get me started on that one.

How does it affect me now? I often think people don’t like me. If someone is having a bad day I take it personally. I never feel like I measure up to the standard of my colleagues. I second guess everything I do. I beat myself up over every wrong decision. I often feel like a hopeless failure.

The question you may be asking is: so what do you do about those moments of doubt?

My solution is a daily ritual for me. If I didn’t follow it, I would be lost in the wasteland of doubt, anxiety, and uncertainty.

Kill Negative Thoughts: I cannot believe the worst. I have to focus on the positive. The only way I can do this is to “take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5). When I allow negative thoughts to seep into my heart, it creates chaos. It’s like a sandstorm of damaging and destructive winds lifting the top layer of my insecurities and pushing them into every imaginable part of who I am. I need to think on “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, anything excellent or praiseworthy”(Philippians 4:8). Sometimes I lie in bed and focus on each one to ground me in my faith and to lift my anxieties about who I am and what I am capable of doing for others and ultimately God.

Be Confident in the Strength God has Given Me: My favorite verse and one I have stood on for years is “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13). When we measure ourselves against the world’s standards, it is easy to feel inadequate. When we take our weaknesses and ask God to be our strength for the battle, the job, or the ministry the following verse is our confidence: “In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us” (Romans 8:37). Another prayer I have used for an anchor when I am feeling inadequate comes from James 1:5. “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.” I have been totally baffled by questions racing through my brain when it comes to my job and when I simply pray for wisdom, God always manifests his power in an extraordinary way and the answer is right there in front of me.

Slay the Giants of Doubt: Slaying the giants of doubt go hand-in-hand with my other daily rituals, but this is a battle strategy that works EVERY time. I need to have the faith of David and pick up the rock and slay my giant. However, the only way I can do it is by recognizing one key factor in the following verse: “Don’t be afraid or discouraged by this great army [of doubt] because the battle isn’t yours, but God’s” (2 Chronicles 20:15). I have been through some of the toughest fights both on the battlefield of insecurity and sin, but God has shown me the victory. I am not alone in battle. He has made a promise to me in his Word. “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). Over and over again, God has made that promise to me. He will never leave me when I am struggling, and he will never forsake me even when I am in a crisis of faith.

If you lack confidence, try these strategies for living a life of assurance with God. Please remember: Self-esteem is not the answer, but God-esteem is.

As I wrote this today, I realized how much I needed to hear it again in my own spirit. We preach to ourselves sometimes. Bottom line: Confidence in God does not allow doubt to creep in the back door because faith is the sentry.

My desire for a divine encounter supersedes any earthly wish. I felt the tangible presence of God when I went into anaphylactic shock, but I want an experience that can’t be explained away as the alteration of brain chemistry due to a lack of oxygen. I guess you could say I want a face-to-face encounter with God.

But when God places someone in your path at just the right time, a time when you need them most, it is a reflection of the divine. Sometimes it is unexpected. Sometimes it is part of God’s perfect plan, but it is always the mirror image of the heavenly.

When I received the call to tutor Marc, I thought it would be extra money in my pocket. However, what I didn’t expect was the extraordinary impact this young man would have on me both emotionally and spiritually. It has been life changing.

Marc is a quadriplegic. Forceps fractured his spinal cord at C1 and C2.  He is on a respirator, but he can talk. He has intravenous nutrition, but he occasionally indulges in soft foods for the simple pleasure of experiencing the sensation of flavor. He has specialized in-home care by skilled nurses most of the day and his family takes over at 4:00 p.m. Marc has his own man cave in the back of his parent’s home. It is a serene setting surrounded by green foliage and apple trees. Perched on a shelf that circles his room just a foot below the ceiling is his trains and fire station memorabilia. Marc is an honorary fireman, and he listens to a scanner during his free time. He is also an excellent artist. Since he is unable to use his hands, he places the brush in his mouth and creates unbelievable portraits of flowers (one of his portraits is above this blog entry)

I know life isn’t easy for Marc. Although he is a quadriplegic, he still feels neuropathic and musculoskeletal pain. The slow drip of medications often move their way through his body as he learns to critically analyze the assigned articles for ENG 101.  Even with all of his challenges, he works exceptionally hard in school. He uses a voice activated computer software program called Dragon Naturally Speaking, which allows him to do his work independently. He also has dreams and goals just like anyone; his are just limited.

I have gone to tutor Marc when I am worried, tired, or even upset. When I leave his house I am a different person. His laughter lifts my spirits. His perseverance gives me strength. His work ethic makes me strive harder to perfect my own craft. He inspires me.

Life has certainly thrown me some curve balls. I grew up with a sibling who has cerebral palsy, so I didn’t have the typical childhood. I married young and divorced when most people are getting around to getting married. I had two miscarriages at a time when I desperately wanted a baby. I had stage 3 borderline ovarian cancer. My son Brandon nearly died from a burst appendix and perforated bowel, and a year later he had viral meningitis. My youngest, Geoffrey, was an OxyContin addict and I watched him suffer through withdrawal. One year later, the rubber band snapped in my brain the night our family became unraveled because of the vindictiveness of an ex-daughter-in-law. It’s easy to feel sorry for yourself when you are going through the dark night of the soul.

A moment of clarity about the dark shadows of my life came the night I received an email message from Marc when he thought he may need to cancel our tutoring session for a doctor’s appointment due to health issues. I told him my philosophy was to “count it all joy.” He responded, “God never gives me more than I can handle, so it is something I can count on.” He admitted he sometimes struggles with it, but I know the truth of it has settled deep into his spirit. He is an overcomer.

If he can rely on this sacred truth, I must follow in his footsteps. Trials never ask our permission to come. Marc didn’t have a choice. I didn’t have a choice in some of my situations. But the fact remains, we are not perfect. We are broken. We are a mess at times. When we face the trials, like Marc has done, we may even feel like we are sinking into the abyss of our despairing moments, our health issues, or our painful memories; but we will rise out of the ashes. We will find our strength. I have learned that trials change us, most of the time for the better. But we have to let God do the work in the midst of our adversity.

So I am thankful for Marc being placed in my life. He is my encounter with the divine because of his extraordinary outlook on life and his inspiring example of how to live each day with the help of an awesome God.