God won't let us drown

in Mark 4:35 the Bible talks of a storm that comes in the evening. it's a furious squall with the waves breaking over the boat and nearly swamping it. Jesus was on the boat sleeping. the Disciples rushed to wake Him. "Teacher, don't you care if we drown?" they ask. Jesus got up, rebuked the wind and the waves and then turned to His disciples. "Why are you so afraid?", He asked them. "Do you still have no faith?"

with Jesus right by their side they were still terrified.

and so it is with us.

when the storm comes in the middle of the night we get scared. we see the lightning. we hear the howling wind. we feel the crashing waves. and we focus on the storm.

though Jesus is right next to us we run to Him. we shake Him awake. we ask Him if He sees the storm. we ask Him if He even cares if we drown.

and Jesus responds, "Do you still have no faith?"

if you change the position of one letter in the word scared...you get the word sacred. one has you doubting your faith, the other has you trusting it.

God doesn't promise there won't be storms. but He reminds us not to be afraid. because our faith shouldn't be in the storms. our faith should be in the One who never lets us go through them alone. 



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIZitK6_IMQ

A Prayer for the lost

Dear Lord,

I come to you today with a prayer for all those who are lost.

For all those who have been beaten down by the selfishness of others.

For all those who have seen too much and can't forget the pain.

For all those who have been told they were useless...that their sins were too great...that nobody would...or could ever love them.

For all those who are sinking in the pit of discouragement.

For all those who have been blinded by hatred.

For all those who think their failures are fatal.

For all those who have looked for peace in alcohol, drugs or sex and only found more despair.

For all those who are searching for something...for anything...to make them feel like they have value, that they have worth, that they belong in this world.

I bring them all before you today Lord. I ask you to heal their broken hearts. I ask you to clear their cluttered minds. I ask you to remove all evil influences in their lives.

Lord, I pray you become so real to them that they see their wounds are a way to reach others who are lost. I pray your peace gives them a reason to keep pushing past the darkness so that more than one life might be saved from the lies satan has led them to believe.

Lord,  I pray you put just the right people in their path to help them believe they are not alone...that they do have a purpose...that they are loved.

And when today slips into tomorrow Lord, I pray this very prayer again, for all the ones who find themselves among the lost and alone.  

In Jesus Name I pray.

i never wanted to be a mom

i never wanted to be a mom.

never.

that seems like such a selfish statement, especially when i know women who have been trying unsuccessfully to conceive, but my truth never came from selfishness, it came from fear.

when you're 6 years old and your mom dies it changes your perspective.

you see things differently.

you dream different dreams.

you want different things.

and the last thing i wanted to be was a mom.

but if i broke it down, the last thing i really wanted was to be my mom.

the mom that died and left her kids behind.

and so i never allowed myself to wish for it.

i never allowed myself to hope for it.

i never allowed myself  to want it.

when you grow up as a motherless daughter you don't grow up wanting that.

any of it.

because it's too scary.

you don't dream of a forever family when your own forever is ripped away in the middle of the night.

you can't allow yourself to tell a child "i'll always be here for you" when you know it's not true.

it's a promise you know you can't make.

no, when your mother dies and leaves you behind you stop believing in always.

you stop believing in a lot of things.

and you put up a wall with real emotions on one side and what you want people to see on the other.

because that's how you survive.

that's how i survived.

i refused to miss my mom. i refused to be sad. i refused to talk about it.

and i told myself i didn't want something that i really did want.

and one day i became my own worst fear.  

i became a mom.

and my life became a million unspoken "what ifs".

what if i die at 37 like she did?

what if i die when my children are little?

what if i die and never get to say goodbye?


it's an endless recording and it never stops playing.

what if i die? what if i die? what if i die?


when my son adam was born i caught myself holding my breath.

17 years later i find myself still holding it.

and when tommy was born years later i thought to myself "what am i doing?"

i still have moments when i think that.

what am i doing? what am i doing? what the heck am i doing?


and i feel my chest tighten. and feel myself start to panic.

and i feel myself smothering them, and holding them too close.

and i feel like i never should have done this.

any of it.

because every day, in the very back corner of my mind, a thought overtakes me. a thought that at any moment this could be all over.

this wonderful, crazy, beautiful life with my sons, with my family, could all be over.

but i stop myself. i stop myself from thinking that i never wanted to be a mom.

because even in the million moments of crazy panicked uncertainty i see the truth.

i feel the truth.

i know the truth.

and the truth is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened in my life

was becoming the very person i said i never wanted to be.

note to self: i don't have time for my life

i've done it again.

said yes when i should have said no.

added 5 million more things to my list that already had 5 million things on it.

felt like i needed to help everyone.

felt like i needed to live up to everyone.

forgot to pay a bill.

or two.

let's be honest, it's more than two.

missed a meeting.

let the dishes sit in the sink overnight.

and then the whole next day too.

didn't make my bed.

didn't drink my water.

didn't eat lunch.

haven't made dinner.

lost my patience.

lost my motivation.

lost my mind. 

found it.

and then lost it again.

and it's not the first time for any of these things.

and it probably won't be the last.

because i'm a people pleaser.

and an enabler.

and a control freak.

and really bad at saying no.

and really bad at not finding time to do it all.

and really bad at remembering the good i do.

because i still have SO MUCH to do.

and i won't stop until it's done.

and i'll hate that some of it will be late.

and i'll hate that some of it isn't important.

and i'll hate that some of it i shouldn't even be doing.

but i'll still do it.

because i said i would.

because I AM CRAZY.

because sometimes i like to believe i am a superhero. 

I AM NOT A SUPERHERO!!!

and i'm missing out on my life.

and i'm missing out on my boys.

and i'm worrying way too much about things that don't matter.

and not spending nearly enough time on things that do.

note to self: i don't have time for my life

but even worse...what if life finally stops having time for me?

dear tommy...Santa is real...

and so today i had the "talk" i've been dreading for years. my 9 year old asked me if Santa was real.

my heart sunk. just like when he asked me last year about the tooth fairy. and the Easter bunny before that.

we tell our kids to tell the truth and then we lie to them.

we are not good parents.

but the truth is, we tell these stories because we are good parents. at least we're trying to be. and we want our kids to grow up with a sense of wonder and surprise and joy.

because, let's face it, this world can be cruel. so if we can portray that the world is good through a man in a red suit than so be it. and let's so be it as long as we can.

but as of this morning, i am probably the worst mom in the world. at least it felt that way when i saw his face.

because tommy did not take the news well. and for the next hour he didn't want to talk about it.

but then we read the letter i wrote to him again. this time together. i cried. he cried. and then we hugged.

i'm sad that he has to grow up.

he's sad that he has to grow up.

but we both know that he has to grow up.

and today he did just that.

here's the letter i wrote him right before i broke his heart to answer his question.

i hope Santa doesn't put me on the Naughty List.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Tommy,

I know you want an answer to your question about Santa. You want to know if he is real. If it's really me and Dad who put the presents under the tree. If it was me who wrote Santa's answers last year to the questions you asked in the letter you left for him in the kitchen. You said his writing looked like mine.

And you want to know if we've been lying to you. Because people at school are talking. And some believe in him and some don't and you just want the truth.

Well, the truth is Tommy, is that Santa is real.

But he's not just one person like they portray in all the movies and books about him. Santa is me. And Dad. And the moms and dads of your friends. Santa is in the heart of every boy and girl who ever believed in him and then grew up to become parents of their own.

Sure we say he lives at the North Pole and he has reindeer and he flies all over the world to deliver presents to all the good little boys and girls but that's not the truth. Because the truth is Santa lives in North Carolina. And Nebraska. And Cleveland.

And a thousand other places around the world.

And Santa isn't just one person. He's a hundred people. He's a thousand people. He's a million people.

Because Santa isn't a person...he's a feeling.

He's the hope that you feel when you know Christmas is coming and you keep your fingers crossed that he'll stop at our house. It's the generosity you feel when you leave cookies out for him and food for his reindeer ”because they'll get hungry too.” It's the magic of a story that makes you feel that being good should be rewarded and being bad should not.

And though we tell you that you need to be asleep or Santa won't come, the truth is he can be seen everywhere if you look hard enough.

Santa lives in our neighbors who put up their tree in the window and their stockings on the shelf.

Santa lives in your teachers who make ornaments with you and sing Christmas songs.

Santa lives in good deeds and making sure that what we have is shared.

Believing in Santa makes us all, even for a little while, become better people.

And so Dad and I keep the spirit of Santa alive.

Oh Tommy, I have never looked forward to having this conversation with you. Because part of me doesn't want you to grow up. And believing in Santa, the REAL Santa Claus, is one of the last links you have to being little.

But you're not little anymore. You'll always be my baby, but you're growing up. And so I give you the truth about Santa today with a sad but hopeful heart. Because I hope that knowing the truth won't be disappointing but will open a world of wonder that you have never known.

Because today, you become Santa too.

And it's your job to keep the spirit of Santa alive in those who haven't heard the whole story yet.

So when you see a little boy looking in awe at Santa in the store be sure to smile. When you see a little girl waving at Santa in the parade be sure to wave too. And when you grow up and have children of your own, pass on the tradition. Pass on the magic. Pass on the hope.

And believe in miracles. And believe in the magic.

And never let anyone tell you that Santa isn't real.

Because the spirit of Santa IS real.

It lives in me.

It lives in Dad.

And I hope it will always live in you.

I love you forever Tommy.

And that's the truth.

love,

Mom

P.S. Sometimes I still look up at the sky on Christmas Eve to see if I can see Santa. And sometimes, yes sometimes Tommy, I think I really do.
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as i get older...

written down in stone

i was looking through the paper last week and i came across an obituary of a woman the same age as me. i don't read obituaries all the time, especially if i don't know the person, but for some reason i was drawn to this one. and as i read through the words they had written about her, it made me think about my own life and what it would have said if that obituary had been mine. 

maybe it's the fact that i'm getting older. maybe it's seeing yet another tragedy play out with the tornado in Oklahoma. maybe it's just that i have so many things i want to do in my life that i seem to keep putting off. but whatever the reason, the thought of our lives eventually being written down in stone stayed in my head.

written down in stone

i saw it written in the paper,

i saw her face before her name,

and when i read her age it stopped me,

and prayed my life won't be the same.

it said she lived for 44 years,

and she died suddenly at home,

and it went on to tell her lifetime,

now it was written down in stone.

it seemed we both were born the same year,

but her life ended way too soon,

“and who's to know”, I thought to myself,

how much she still had planned to do.

she left behind a loving husband,

family, friends and a small son,

and her lifetime came right down to,

two paragraphs of what she'd done.

as i looked out the kitchen window,

suddenly it seemed so clear,

we don't get to choose our ending,

but get to live while we're still here.

and everyone will have a story,

that will be told when it's the end,

we fill in pages as we're living,

with time we borrow and we spend.

the moments that are set before us,

are only given as a loan,

and so we better get to living...

before they're written down in stone.

crazy how death always makes us think about life isn't it? but it's a good thing. 

because thinking about life usually leads us to living. 

not just existing. not just breathing.

we only get one chance to write our story and though we don't get to choose the ending we do get to decide the chapters. we do get to decide where we're headed.

so let's decide to live. REALLY live. and love. REALLY love.

today. right now. this moment. 

while it's still here.

and while the book of our life is still open.

struggling with food: bad habits are hard to break

last year i revealed my struggle with food in this post " i used to have an eating disorder " and it's like it opened up something that i thought i dealt with long ago.

apparently i was wrong.

the post made me retreat inside myself. worried that i had shared too much. worried that i had labeled myself. worried that maybe i missed those days of wanting to be skinny.

wanting.

desperately wanting.

crazy, self obsessed wanting.

it's like satan was knocking at my door again, saying "hey, remember me?" "remember how good it felt?" remember how great it was?"

and the realistic me knows it wasn't great. but the past me knows there were glimpses of joy.

they were tiny, never lasting, self defeating glimpses. but glimpses none the less.


crazy isn't it? to find joy in the middle of our pain.

it's a constant battle. every bite. every decision. every time i weigh myself.

i'm battling against who i was. i'm battling for who i need to be.

i'm battling not to let this world define who i am.

but i think the important part is i realize it. that i'm aware of my struggle. that i go into the battle knowing full well the danger that an eating disorder can do.

my friend died from it. not officially of course. officially she died because her body couldn't fight an infection she got. but her body couldn't fight it because of all the years of abuse. and those of us in the circle knew that. those of us who had struggled beside her knew.

and though we were all years past our own issues with food, i come to realize now that we may move on but it's always a part of us.

it's always a voice.

it's always a temptation.

and sometimes it's a desire.

sometimes it's a feeling that we want to feel again.

just for a moment.

a tiny moment.

a tiny self defeating moment.

because that's the disease. that's the disorder.  

but i don't want to be the person i was.

i don't want to be who i used to be.

i don't want to die because i can't let go.

so i let go of the past everyday.

and i move forward towards a healthier life.

and i pray to God it will never be me again. 

five minute fridays...home

i love five minute fridays. i love them but i don't do them nearly as much as i should.

but today i'm following lisa-jo's lead and i'm taking 5 minutes to do what i love to do...write. so here goes...5 minutes, no editing, no over-thinking, no plan...

go...

home

as i grow older home doesn't mean the same thing to me anymore. sure it means family, and memories and being able to be yourself in a world that constantly tries to change you, but home means more to me now.

with each growing year my heart longs for something more. it longs for my final home. it longs to be with my Lord and Savior.

my heart sees home as Heaven now. i see home as Jesus.

there are days that i wish Heaven would hurry. i wish to leave the craziness of this world behind.

but something always stops me. something always tells me there's more work to be done.

there's a world of hurting people that need help. there's a world of hurting people who haven't met Jesus. there's a world of hurting people that need to know...they need to know that they don't have to walk around hurting. that they can have peace. that they can be ok.

so even while my hearts longs for my eternal home, i understand that there's still work to be done.

there are still porches of people's souls that need to be swept. still dirty laundry that needs to be cleaned out of lives. and still weeds that need to be pulled out of people's hearts.

yeah there's a lot of work to be done first before i go home. so much work to be done.

but i'm ready. as much as i'm ready to be home, i'm ready to make sure everyone else is coming home with me too.

my dad's jacket

sometimes i wear my dad's old jacket. the one he used to wear all the time.

like ALMOST EVERYDAY all the time.

it's one of those jackets that long ago went out of style but seems to make a little comeback every now and then. but despite it being old-fashioned and slightly out of date, i still wear it. i admit it's  mostly just around the house, but i wear it.

because it reminds me of him.

 it was one of the only pieces of clothing i kept when he died.

that and an old pair of his socks.

everything else went to the nursing home. my dad would have wanted it that way. somehow the most giving man i ever knew was able to continue giving even after he died. 

but i had to keep something. i don't know why.

i guess i thought if i didn't give everything away that i'd still have a piece of him. i guess i thought if i kept his favorite jacket then he wouldn't really be gone.

crazy, i know. but somehow it's true.

on days when i feel alone, or tired, or overwhelmed...i put on his jacket.

on days when i miss him, or i need his advice, or i can't believe he's gone...i put it on and wrap it even tighter.

somehow this jacket puts my dad in the room. somehow this jacket puts my dad in the world.

same with the socks. they're threadbare now but it doesn't matter. just the sight of them brings back a million memories.

and just wearing them brings peace.

and that's what my dad meant to me in this world.

safety.

and love.

and peace.

it may be old. it may be out of date. it may even be out of style. but it was my dad's jacket.

so if you see me wearing it, tread softly.

because i'm not ready to let go of either of them just yet.

and i'm not sure that i ever will be.

smiling past the sadness

as most of you know from my last post, my life has been turned upside down lately. last week one of our guests committed suicide and when we found her, it brought back painful memories that i've struggled for years to overcome.  today's post is an update on how satan tried his best to destroy me....but his best wasn't better than God. the first part is from last night, the last part is from the miracle of today.

yesterday -  smiling past the sadness

it's not easy to smile when i'm sad but i do it anyway. it's not easy to say i'm ok when i'm not but i do it anyway. and it's not easy to pretend everything is fine...when it's not...

but i do it anyway.

because people need me. people need me to be happy. people need me to be strong. people need me to encourage and lift up and offer hope.

people need me to make decisions, and give advice, and meet deadlines.

people need me to do what i've always done and i know that.

they tell me that.

they want that. they expect it. and truth be known, i expect it too.

i expect to just wake up in a good mood and thank God for the day.

i expect to smile, and sing and be full of joy.

i expect to want to take a shower. to want to change my clothes. to want to do SOMETHING.

but really all i want to do is be in a dark room by myself.

all i want to do is hide.

i don't want to answer questions. i don't want to talk. i don't want to think about what i saw.

i just want to rest. i just want to close my eyes and pretend it didn't happen. i just want to close my eyes and not be afraid to dream.

i just want to stop feeling sorry for myself and get on with my life.

i know there's some kind of time frame to grieve. some kind of politically correct amount of time that says it's ok to cry and be shocked after a traumatic event. and at barely a week out i think i'm still in it.

at least i hope i'm still in it. i hope what i'm going through is normal.

but i'm tired of being in it. i'm just so very tired of being sad.

and i pray to God...oh God i pray that i'm not in it forever.

**********************************

and that's exactly how i felt when i woke up again today. sad. overwhelmed. unbelievably tired. and with a darkness hanging over me again.  i went through the motions but that was it. i saw no light and i definitely couldn't see my way out. but i kept praying. and i kept asking God to show me how He could use this. how He could use me. and if He even thought my life was worth being used for Him at all.

today - when God finds you in the darkness

i've been in a pit lately. i'm not really sure how i got there. i just know that one thing led into something else and there i was, standing on the edge of it, hoping not to fall in. when i wrote that post last week about suicide i was already struggling and it was just enough to push me head first down into darkness. and no matter how hard i tried, i couldn't find the light to get back out. 

i've seen darkness before but i've never seen it that dark. i've never seen it that lonely. and it scared me.

because i saw a glimpse of what some people never overcome.

i didn't want to go to sleep at night because i was afraid to dream. i didn't want to get up in the morning because i didn't want to face the day. i didn't want to shower because i just didn't care. and to be honest, it required much more energy than i had to do it all anyway.

but i did get up everyday. i did go through the motions. but i wasn't myself. i wasn't even close to being myself.

because it's hard to be yourself when you're lost. it's hard to even remember who you are when you're broken.

but then it happened. God sent someone to remind me. God sent someone to pull me out of the pit. 

someone who had read my post about the suicide contacted me. out of the blue. unexpected.

they told me how that post had saved them. i didn't really understand it at first but then they went on to explain. they had been broken recently too. and torn down. and they had decided to end it all. they had the pills. they were ready to take them. but first, they got on the computer to say goodbye to their friends.

and that's when God pulled them out of their pit. they saw my post. they felt it took courage.

and that courage they said...made them change their mind.

they decided not to commit suicide.

the very pain that i wondered how it could be used for anything...was used to save a life.

and suddenly, in the middle of my darkest day, i saw the sun again.

dear God, i am humbled and amazed that you decided to use this broken girl. i am completely in awe that you took such terrible memories and brought about something good. thank you Lord for finding me, for loving me, for showing me that even on the darkest days, you are still a bright and shining light. and thank you, thank you, thank you Lord,  for saving that person who was ready to end it all. thank you for showing them your love. thank you for reminding them that they have worth, and value, and a wonderful purpose.  i pray Lord that you turn their pain around. i pray that the plans of those who are trying to bring them down are destroyed. i pray that you give them a boldness to show the world how you can take a broken life and use it to bring you glory. i love you Lord. and i thank you for saving my life too. in Jesus' Name i pray.

i know how it feels to be broken

sometimes i feel like i've seen too much.

too much heartache. too much loss. too much death.

and moments like yesterday when they suddenly and unexpectedly roll up into one.

a woman checked in to the motel and never checked out. she left, but she didn't leave alive.

she killed herself.

a calculated, meticulous, planned suicide.

and the way that we found her will be something i never forget.

i won't give details other than to say it was obvious she found it on the internet. she had purchased all the right things, made all the right plans. she made sure no one would find her until it was over. and her plan worked perfectly.

she left a note telling us she was sorry and asked someone to call her dad.

she didn't leave a mess. in fact, you can't even tell she was there. but she created a mess if that makes sense. because she left behind family. she left behind 3 children. she left behind questions.

she left behind a life.

and she left behind scars that may never heal. 

because some scars wound too deeply. some scars bring back memories that are too painful to remember.

and that's what yesterday was. too deep. too painful. too many scars.

suicide isn't foreign to me. i thought about it when i was 20. i thought the world would be better off if i wasn't in it. though i didn't know the lady yesterday, i know the pain. i know the struggle. i know the thought of thinking death is easier than life.

i know how it feels to think you're alone. to think your problems are too much.

to just get so tired of the fight to hang on.

i know how it feels to be broken like that. and so when i saw her there i remembered.

and i remembered too much.

and it suddenly broke me again.

i've had two friends kill themselves in the last six years. both were young. both left behind children. both left behind so many questions. and each of their deaths brought me back to that place. to that bathroom. to that moment when i was done too.

and though i hated what they did, i understood it. and i grieved with them in their death.

but they broke me. each death broke another piece of me again.

because i see me in them.

and i wish with all my heart that i could have helped them. all of them. i wish that i would have known. i wish that i could have saved them from the darkness that took over their world. 

and i have guilt that they have died and yet i live on. 

and so i cry,  and i grieve, and i pray.

but i don't do it alone. i can't do it alone.

and that's what continuing to live has taught me. that despite the heartache, despite the darkness, despite the brokenness...i can't do it alone.

that no one can do it alone.

and so i share this story. and i share this pain. and i share this broken heart.

and i ask you to pray to God with me for all those that are lost and for all those who are struggling to hang on.

dear Lord, help us to seek out the lost. help us to reach out to them. help us to not be so caught up in our own world that we miss them, that we pass by, that we don't take the time to help. Lord, please bring peace to the brokenhearted, please give courage to those who are thinking of giving up, please give strength to those who think they can't go on. dear Lord please have mercy on the souls of all those who have died and please grant peace to their families. in Jesus' Name we pray.

saving a friend

 
i have been a little sad lately. without direction. seeking answers.

i have been overwhelmed with too many decisions. too many distractions. too much strife.

i have lacked focus. questioned motives. sought peace.

i have been crowded. criticized. burdened.

and yet through it all, i have been blessed.

that is the hand of God right there. taking a girl i haven't seen in over 20 years and using her to remind me that i matter. that He sees me. that He loves me.  

i am AMAZED - completely and totally- at God's goodness. i am humbled at His mercy.

i am in awe of His grace.

He found me right where i am and He reminded me that i am not alone. 

but that's God isn't it? showing up when we least expect it. when we least deserve it.

but when we need it the most.

and saving us right in the middle of a storm.

i am so thankful.

i am filled with joy.

i am blessed.

if God has placed someone on your heart today, reach out to them. encourage them. love them.

in doing so you are pleasing Him. 

you are doing His work.

you are saving the world.

thank you Tere for saving me today. 

you are loved. 

 



 

the Catholic freak...the Jesus freak

you might think i'm a freak because i'm Catholic.

and you'd be right.

i am a freak.

a Jesus freak.

that's right. i'm Catholic AND i believe in Jesus.

i say it like that because a couple of years ago someone assumed i didn't. she had been told that Catholics don't worship Jesus. that we don't believe in Him.

really? i said. have you been in a Catholic Church? because you'll find the Stations of the Cross which, you know, if you look closely, follow Jesus' Crucifixion. yeah. and speaking of Crucifixion, we have those huge Crosses on the altar. with Jesus on them. Crucified.

so you could say...with certainty...that we believe in Jesus.

i know i'm being sarcastic but she wasn't the first one. she wasn't the first to think being Catholic was a bad thing. and i'm used to those kind of remarks. i'm used to being right in the middle of a great  Biblical conversation- talking about God and what He has done in my life and quoting Scripture - and then getting "the question".

"so where do you go to Church?'.

i always hesitate before i answer and take a breath. because i know what's about to come.

" i go to the Catholic Church down the road."

silence. complete silence. then the knowing nod. then the change of conversation.

and while the conversation switch makes it obvious, the nod really says it all.

the nod equals...oh, you're one of THEM.

yep, i think to myself as they start to walk away. that's me. one of THEM. one of THOSE Catholics. one of those CRAZY people.

one of those who other people like to talk about. and judge. and assume.  

because they've heard about us. they know about us. they assume about us.

but they rarely ask us. they rarely want to question us. they rarely want to hear our story.

to hear what we believe.

to know where we stand.

because they already have made up their minds. they already think we're freaks.

so i thought i'd clear it up.

i am Catholic. and i believe in Jesus. i believe He is the Son of God, sent to be my Savior.

i believe He was crucified for my sins. and i believe He will come again.

some assume i need to be saved. i know that i already am.

some assume that i worship Mary the Mother of God. some assume i worship statues.

i do neither.

but i do honor Mary. i do show reverence to her. i do hold her in high esteem. i do the same with the Saints. i pray that my character might be more like theirs. i pray that their lives might be reflected in mine.

but be clear. be perfectly clear. i worship God.

do i pray to them? i do. do i ask them to pray for me? i do. just like i ask my friends for advice, for direction, for clarification in life. just like i ask those who are closest to me to pray for me.

how strange that it is considered perfectly normal to ask another human being for direction, guidance and prayer but it is considered crazy to do the same with those human beings whose lives were lived boldly to honor God.

so i can ask you, or my neighbor, or a stranger off the street to pray for me - to intercede for me- but i can't ask Mary, the mother of Jesus?

i'm not sure how that makes sense.

but you did get one thing right. you did assume one thing about me that makes me smile.

i am a freak.

a Jesus freak.

and you can call me that any day of the week.

Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy. Lord have mercy.

from bullied to bold - teaching my boys to stand up for those who can't stand up for themselves

i was bullied in high school. not the big time stuff you hear about in the news but enough that it made me never forget it. and enough that i knew i would never stand for it again. 

in my life or in the life of anyone i know.

i was a senior in high school. taking an easy class the last semester just to get an easy grade. he was a senior too. a celebrated football player. someone i had known since middle school. 

someone i thought was my friend.

i don't know why he did it. i think maybe he did it to be cool. or to prove his power. or just because he could. but one day-out of the blue-i became his target.

he made fun of the way i looked. he made fun of what i wore. he made fun of what i said.

everyone around us heard it. everyone smiled or laughed. 

and everyone - including myself - let it go on.

everyday.

until the end of the year.

i don't remember anyone trying to defend me. i don't remember anyone trying to change the subject. i don't remember anyone even acknowledging anything was wrong.

i only remember hating that class. i hated going there. i hated that someone who used to be a friend turned into someone i didn't like. and i hated that for some reason he didn't like me.

high school was hard enough without having him make it harder. i had always been shy growing up and this just intensified it. i already questioned everything about myself. i never felt pretty. i never felt good enough.

his insults just pushed me further into that corner and kept me there. to him i was insignificant. and that's who i became to me.

insignificant.

small.

not worthy.

i believed i didn't belong. i believed i wasn't good enough. i believed there was something wrong with me.

and his bullying just made me believe that everyone else must believe it too.

my mistake was that i never told anyone about it. but i was too embarrassed. and i guess i hoped it would go away. but it didn't. though school ended, his comments followed me for years. from the outside it looked like i had it all together, but on the inside my self esteem was officially destroyed. 

there weren't enough compliments or encouragement in the world that could save me.

and when things went wrong, there was nothing that could convince me that i still wasn't that girl in high school who wasn't good enough. nothing that could convince me that i was that girl who didn't belong.

i searched for praise. craved attention. needed to know that everyone liked me. 

it was an endless cycle. and one i barely broke.

everything built up until i was done. 

with everything.

and it's only through the grace of God that i'm alive today. 

because He was the only one who could take a broken girl and make her whole again. 

but not all stories end this way. and not all people end up being okay. because some who are done with everything actually go through with it. they end up killing themselves.

and that's not acceptable to me. that anyone gets to a place where they feel that death is better than life because of the cruelty of others.

that anyone feels the only way out is to end it. 

to be done with it all because they feel all alone.

i know there are more people out there like me. people who have been bullied and never said a word. people who didn't find their strength until later in life.

the silent survivors.

but too much of it is still going on in this world. and those of us who have been there should be willing to stand up for those who haven't learned to do it for themselves.

i read a statistic that said children as young as 8 are killing themselves because of bullying. and that suicide is one of the leading causes of death among children under the age of 14.

those statistics should be unacceptable. TO EVERYONE. no one should think it's ok for kids to be dying because of the cruelty of others. no one should think it's not important. no one should think it's not serious. 

no one should be arrogant enough to think that those who are bullied just need to stand up for themselves. it is not weak to ask for or to need help. "Two are better than one. Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves." Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

when my sons were old enough to understand, i gave them three rules to live by. two of those rules apply to bullying:

#1 : never bully someone 

#2 : never stand by and let someone else be bullied.

my boys (now 14 and 8) know that this means....

don't ever bully someone. 

don't ever think that you're cooler, or smarter or better than someone else. don't ever think that making fun of someone or insulting them is acceptable. because it's not. EVER.

and don't ever stand by and let someone else be bullied.

to me, being a bystander is just as bad as being the bully themselves. because the person being bullied needs to know that they're not alone. that not everyone is against them. the person being bullied needs to know that they have someone who will speak up for them when they can't speak up for themselves.

my oldest son asked me once, "but what if i stand up for someone and then i start getting picked on too?" good question. and one that most ask and then decide to never get involved because they're worried about the answer.

but we can't worry about the answer. if we worry about the answer, then we'll never get involved in anything. we'll never speak out. we'll never stand up. 

we'll never help.

we'll be like those people we see on the news who walk past someone who is lying in the road hurt because they're too afraid to stop for fear of what could happen to them. 

but if we don't help...who will?

like the Samaritan in the Bible who stopped to help the man who was beaten and robbed. he wasn't the only person who saw him, but he was the only person who helped him. others passed by. others crossed the street to pretend they didn't see. others didn't want to get involved.

that's not what i want to teach my children. that's not who i want my children to grow up to be. i want them to be bold. and courageous. and willing to stand up for those who - for whatever reason- can't stand up for themselves.

i want them to know my story. and to hear my pain. and to want to help those who are helpless.

no matter what some people say, bullying is not a "rite of passage". it's not "all fun and games." it's not "no big deal."

bullying is serious. 

and people, especially children, are killing themselves because of it.

i'm not ok with that. 

i'll never be ok with that.

and i don't want my boys to be ok with that either. 

---------

http://www.stompoutbullying.org/livechat_portal.php

when your dad is dying, love still finds a way

"be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10

that's the verse i heard. that's the scripture that came to me. that's the promise that got me through the storm.

my dad was dying. at least that's what the world said. his cancer had returned and spread. what once started in his prostate, eventually moved to his colon, his lungs, his kidneys. it was one of those things that everyone said would happen, but i had never allowed myself to believe.

because my dad was too strong.

and had too much faith.

and was too good of a person to die like that.

strong people like him don't lose the fight.

people with faith like his don't die.

good people like him -the kind that would give you the shirt off their back- don't die.

they can't die.

they're invincible. they're indestructible. they're loved.

and people who are loved like that wouldn't die. couldn't die. shouldn't die.

but they do.

and they can.

and he did.

there was nothing about cancer that i liked.

i hated it all.

i hated that it scared him. i hated that it became his life. i hated that it became mine.

i hated that six little letters had the power to overtake my world, had the power to overtake my faith.

but in the middle of my darkest night, God gave me a Word. He gave me a hope. He gave me something to hang on to. 

"be still and know that I am God."

and incredibly enough, He gave this to me when i was mad at Him. God gave this to me as i was yelling at Him. He offered it to me as i shouted obscenities at Him into the night air.

because i didn't see God in my dad's disease. i didn't see God in my dad's suffering. and i didn't see why God was allowing any of it to happen.

and so i did what most do when they're angry. i looked for someone to blame. i looked for someone to be mad it. i looked for someone to take responsibility.

and that someone for me was God.

but in  the middle of my rant, in the middle of my doubt, in the middle of my darkest night, He whispered loud enough for me to hear.

"be still and know that I am God."

i didn't even know it was Scripture at the time. i only knew that those words helped. those words healed. those words made me believe...

that God saw me. that God saw my dad. and that we were not alone.

sometimes and really most times, at least for me, it's the knowing that you're not alone that gets you through the darkness. it's the knowing that someone cares.

it's the knowing that someone can see you. can see your pain. can love you enough to get past your rant that gives you the courage to go on.

and the God of the universe, the God who hung the moon and the stars, the God of yesterday and the God of tomorrow, saw a girl scared to lose her dad and reached down from Heaven with a whisper of hope. a whisper of courage. a whisper of faith.

despite all my anger and accusations, He found His way to me.

because love does that.

and He is love.

and love always finds a way.
 

praying for the brokenhearted this year

as 2012 comes to a close i look around and see a world full of hurting people.

this was a hard year for so many.

so many are broken. defeated. disillusioned.

the problems come quicker than the answers. the pain lasts longer than the relief.

the hope feels further away than ever.

and yet we still go on.

why i wonder? why do we press on in a world that seems to grow worse everyday? why push to be more when the days are more than overwhelming? why try to be a light when there's such unimaginable darkness?

good questions. valid questions. almost unanswerable questions.

and almost too much for wearied souls to even search for those answers.

but when we're down...we look up.

and when we look up...we see the Cross.

and when we see the Cross...we see Jesus.

and there hangs our peace. there hangs our hope. there hangs our light.

and so we get up. we move forward. we press on.

despite the desire to give up, we give it another go.

because He paid much too high a price for us to give up now.

2013 is just around the corner. the New Year is just ahead. our lives are just in front of us.

we pray for boldness. we pray for courage. we pray for peace.

for us.

and for this entirely broken world.

Dear Lord, I ask you to bless the person reading this today. I ask you to find them right where they are. I ask you to fix the broken places in their lives. I ask you to fix the broken pieces in their hearts. It's a crazy world down here Lord, and it's getting crazier everyday. Lord, I pray that those who are lost are found. I pray that those who are sick are healed. I pray that those who are suffering find peace. I pray Lord, that satan's strongholds are destroyed off each life reading this today. I pray Lord, that no one is so wearied that they give up. I pray that no one is so broken that they don't want to go on. I pray Lord, that they see hope. I pray Lord, that they see light. I pray Lord, that they see you, that they feel you, that they know you. I pray Lord, that those who think you have let them down, still cling with all they have left to the Cross. I pray that they don't turn their back on you now when they need you the most. I pray Lord, that they don't turn away. Hold them Lord, keep them close. Hold them and know that life has just become too much for the moment and give them the strength to keep going on. Lord, I pray that all those who have turned away, find their way back to you today. In Jesus' Name I pray.

may the God of Peace bring you comfort today.

and everyday in this coming year.

love,

colleen 

here's a great song by Sidewalk Prophets. listen and be blessed.

Know that you are Loved- Sidewalk Prophets 

how i want my sons to live

i don't want my boys to be regular. i don't want them to grow up to be just like everyone else. i don't want them to be just part of the crowd.

i want them to be different. i want them to be set apart.

i want them to want more. 

to do more. 

to be more.

i want them to be the kind of boys who hold the door open for others. i want them to be the kind of boys who stop to help when someone drops what they're holding. i want them to be the kind of boys who don't make fun of girls, who don't criticize others, who don't call people names.

little things to some. insignificant even. but not to me. because to me the little things are what forms a person. the little things are what creates character. the little things are what eventually build into the big things.

and my boys will one day be men. and i want them to be the kind of men that others look up to. 

that others can rely on. 

that others want to grow up to be.

and those boys i've taught to open the door will hopefully realize that it's not just about the door. it's about putting someone else before yourself. it's about trying to serve others.

it's about stopping to care.

and those boys i've taught to help someone who has dropped what they're holding will hopefully grow up to realize that it's not about the dropping at all. it's about the picking up. it's about the seeing if someone needs help holding on.

it's about stopping to care.

and those boys i've taught not to make fun of girls, not to criticize others, not to call people names, will hopefully grow up to realize that it's not about the one moment of laughter. it's about looking beyond the moment to see the pain you may be causing someone else. it's about not wanting to tear someone down to build yourself up.

it's about stopping - right in the middle of what you're doing - to care.

and that's what i want my sons to learn in life. that the most important thing is the caring. to get up each day and care about those around you. to walk out into the world and care about people. to not get so caught up in what they're doing that they miss what God needs them to do.

i want them to stop...to pause...to look around...and to live their lives with a priority for caring.

and i want them to care even when it seems like no one else does. to care even when it seems like it's not making a difference. to care even when people laugh or think they're strange. or think they're different. 

because they should be different. 

i want them to be different.

i pray to God everyday they are different.

in a world that fights so hard for everyone to fit in, i want them to stand out. 

this world will show them plenty of things i wish they would never see. it will teach them plenty of lessons i wish they would never learn.

but i can't control that.

it's part of life.

but the part i can control, the foundation i can set, the belief i can instill - is that even when surrounded by darkness you can still find good.

and i want them to stop and find that goodness. i hope they stop and are part of that goodness. 

i pray they stop and live that goodness.

because i have to believe that the goodness, i have to believe that the caring, will still overcome even the worst parts of people. that it will still overcome the evil in this world. 

because the evil, the badness, the craziness will always be a part of life. it will always live in the hearts of men.

i'm just trying to make sure it never lives in the hearts...

of my men.

praying for Connecticut

i don't get it. i can't grasp it. i can't understand it.

the news coming out of Connecticut today is unreal. it doesn't make sense. it's unfathomable.

a gunman walked into an elementary school today and opened fire killing the principal, some staff members and 18 children. an entire kindergarten class.

and possibly more.

has this entire world gone crazy? have we fallen so far away from the core values of right and wrong that nothing...absolutely nothing...is beyond the imagination of what someone will justify doing to make themselves heard?

it's bad enough when the news reports adults killing adults. but children? who kills children? who just goes in a class and shoots 5 and 6 year olds? who is so caught up in their anger that they don't see those little bodies? those young lives? those innocent babies?

i want to throw up. i'm sick to my stomach. it's like my mind can't process the evil and my body wants to spit it out.

as a mom i want to rush to my son's elementary school and hug them all. all 600 of them. just hug every single one and celebrate their lives. celebrate their futures.

the futures that some will never have.

what parent imagines sending their child to school and never seeing them alive again? what parent imagines having to explain to their child why they're covered in blood and that people around them -their friends, their teachers- are dead? what parent can explain to those same children that school is a safe place -that America is a safe place- and they have nothing to fear?

the news just reported that the alleged gunman was 20 years old. 20. still almost a baby himself. and yet he was angry enough to walk into a school and take the lives of almost 30 people. it is believed that he killed his father first at home before he went to the school.

they're reporting now that the Kindergarten teacher that he killed may be his mother.

this is a terrible day.

an unbelievably terrible day. 

and it just seems to be getting worse.

because now they're saying it may be 20 children dead. and that the shooter's brother may be involved too.

it's almost 3pm here. the school bell's about to ring. our children here in North Carolina will be walking out the door and going home. but at an elementary school in Connecticut -almost 30 teachers, staff and children- won't be walking out their front door ever again. 


evil has made sure of that.

evil has surely made sure of that today.

dear Lord, i know this nation has turned its back on you. that families have turned their back on you. i pray Lord, that it's not too late to find our way back to you again. may your peace that transcends all understanding be ever present in the lives of the families of this tragedy in Connecticut today Lord. may you hold them in the palm of Your Hand while this storm is raging and may what satan meant for evil be turned and used for your glory. in Jesus' Name i pray.

 

the gift of matthew

my heart is heavy.

so heavy right now.

matthew butler...the boy we have been praying for, the boy we have been believing for, the boy who we thought a miracle had come for... is gone. he has died.

and i can't even imagine the pain his family feels. i can't imagine it.

i can't imagine how his mom and dad try to process this pain. i can't imagine how they even form a thought in the middle of such emotion.

because it doesn't seem fair. and it doesn't seem right. and it doesn't make sense.

and i'm not sure that it ever will.

when my sister died, even though she was in her 50's, my dad was devastated. he said to me on the plane ride to her funeral, "how does a parent outlive a child?". and i didn't know what to say.

because no matter the age, a child is always a child in a parent's heart. they remember the day they were born. they remember the silly moments. they remember the silly fights.

and they laugh, and they smile, and they cry.

i can't even imagine how much they cry.

and as Christians, as matthew being a Christian, we rejoice.

of COURSE, we rejoice.

because he is in a better place. because he is in Heaven.

because he is with Jesus.

but as humans...as broken, wearied and hopeful humans...sometimes that isn't enough for the moment.

it should be, but it isn't.

the rejoicing doesn't come right away, because we still want him here. we still want to hear his voice. we still want to see his smile. we still want him to walk out of that hospital room and live his life.

we still want him to change the world.

but through our tears, through our brokenness, through our heavy hearts...through all of our questions, and all of our sadness, we have to remember that has already has.

and we have to remember that he doesn't have to be here to keep doing so.

as i write this my 8 year old son is trying to find happy music to sing to me so i won't be sad. and it makes me cry harder. because it's that kind of love that makes us all cry right now.

it's the love of a child. it's the love of a parent. it's the love that never gives up.

it's the love that hopes even in middle of the hopeless moments.

and it's that kind of love that helps us all to go on.

oh Lord, we pray for peace.

for matthew's parents, for his sisters, for his family, for his friends. 

for all those whose life was made better because of him.

we pray Lord, for that peace that passes all understanding. we pray for comfort in the weak moments. we pray for strength, for courage, for hope. 

oh Lord, we pray for hope.

help us Lord to see you in this. help us to feel you. help us to know. help us to understand.

Lord, help us to hold on in the middle of the storm.

because sometimes Lord the holding on is just as hard as letting go.

my heart knows that matthew really isn't gone. he may be gone from this world but he isn't gone from our lives. he isn't gone from our memories. and he'll never be gone from our hearts.

matthew butler lives on in all of us.

matthew butler should always live on in all of us.

his life, his love, his gift, should forever be a part of us.

and that may be the miracle God was giving us all along.

rest in peace, sweet matthew. your race is finished.

well done, thy faithful servant, well done.