When I Can’t Be…

I was 10 years old when my great-grandmother put a 110 Instamatic camera in my hands for the first time, and a camera has been in my hands ever since.

When trying to explain my passion for photography, someone once framed it well for me – it’s how I see the world.

She was spot on.

Relationships are like lenses on my camera.  Every relationship needs its own lens from zooms to wide angles to panoramic to macros, each person in my life is seen through their own lens depending on who I am to them: wife, mother, relative, friend, coworker in volunteering, neighbor and even stranger.

Recently, my lens in one relationship has become blurred.  I’ve had lenses that have broken, and this feels the same way.  I can’t focus clearly nor remove the fog built up under the glass to see the image accurately.

Frustrated, I try to continue this relationship with a broken lens.  Even more frustrating, I don’t know how it broke?  All I know is that isn’t not working.

Last night, I drove home in tears over this relationship and my inability to fix any part of it.  It’s a very helpless feeling to look at who I am to someone and know full well on their end that it’s not enough.

Truly unaware of why my lens, my role in this relationship, is broken is perpetually discouraging.  Deflating.

I am not a quitter.  Never have been.  So, I do all I know to do – keep the camera steady and use a broken lens.  But, I know that doesn’t work.  The results are fuzzy, off center, distorted, under lit, over exposed, etc.

As I drove home in tears, hands proverbially weary from holding the camera in this relationship, I cried out to God – quite frankly I will add.  I can’t change the lens.  I am one person to this person, and can’t be anything else.  We all are.  We can’t be mothers to our husbands, fathers to wives, strangers to our children, bossy to our coworkers, etc.  Roles – lenses – are defined.  So when I realized my role isn’t working, I don’t know who else to be!

That’s when God answered me – in the rain and dark of night on the city streets.

Be Jesus, He said.

Wow, if we ever wonder if God is really listening to us, it can be in those moments He shows up in such a personal way there is no question He hears every word, every thought.  He heard me last night and responded.  However, my reply was flat.

God, I am trying to be Jesus to this person in my role to them.  I am trying!

No, just be Jesus.  No one else.

It’s like God came along side me, put His hand gently on my camera, grasped His other hand on the neck strap, lifted it from around my neck and carefully took the camera from me.

Now be Jesus in this relationship.

I will say that this is first time I’ve ever seen the world without a lens.  I didn’t realize just how many lenses we have for our lives and how much they influence how we think.  Whether I’ve been a wife, missionary overseas, a neighbor chatting on the street, a mother of 3, a daughter, an in-law, or employee, these lenses also come with filters of emotions, external factors, internal factors, past experience, and our general perspectives.

It’s no wonder I am utterly exhausted from trying to work with a broken lens.

Just be Jesus.  Hmm.  What does that look like?  I recalled different moments in Jesus’ life as He traversed this planet 2,000 years ago.  He exhibited an array of emotions and actions.  He laughed, cried, got righteously angry, worked hard, admonished, encouraged, was tired, got frustrated, healed, didn’t heal, taught, listened, suffered, was sad, disciplined, needed time alone, stood His ground, escaped, was powerful, strong, weak, attentive, dismissive, stern, gentle, was hated and was loved.

As I drove the wet streets, hand shaking and my spirit feeling faint, God prompted me to recall some of Jesus’ names: King of kings, Lord of lords, the Way, Savior, Healer, Friend, Brother, Emmanuel, Son of God, the Second (or Last) Adam, The Word, Messiah, Bridegroom, Lamb of God, our Shepherd, Bread of Life, the Branch, the Vine, Rose of Sharon, Bright and Morning Star, Horn of Salvation, Rock, Husband, Builder, God, Deliverer, Shield, Righteous Judge, Helper, Portion, Servant, and Prince of Peace to name a few.

Prince of Peace!  When those three words came out of my mouth my heart leapt in agreement.

God was asking me to put down my camera and see this relationship through the eyes of Jesus, our Prince of Peace.

I can’t tell you what that did to me in that moment.  I have been desperate for help to know the next step to take, but was so bound up in my role to this person that I felt caught in a house of mirrors – my role reflected everywhere I looked.

He removed all of the mirrors and there I sat, knowing exactly how to respond to this person.  Be peace.

There is a season for everything.  Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 can relate to relationships (with, of course, modification of appropriate boundaries and actions)…

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:

    a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
    a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
    a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
    a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
    a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
    a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
    a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

God was prompting me to be peace to this person.  But, not through my relational lens. Be peace the way Jesus is peace.

My entire view of this person changed.  I saw them how He sees them.  To simply be Jesus to them, I was able to feel compassion, had a clear mind, and my hands stopped shaking.  My heart rate returned to normal.  My breathing slowed down.  A sense of calm washed over me like a warm bath.  I was in a complete state of peace, because for one thing I was emotionally released (if only for a time) from being locked into a certain role to this person.  I could lay that down and be Jesus to them.  Also, I was reminded that God is over all.  He sees everything, and nothing passes through His hands that He can’t use for His glory and our best interest.  This enabled me to look up to Him and not be trapped looking only at the circumstance that surrounds me.

So Jesus I will be to this person for as long as God says to.  No strings attached.  It’s a ministry opportunity and I welcome the prospect of being part of the solution and not part of the problem.

When I can’t be who my relationship defines I should be, I can be Jesus.

My camera usually stays within feet from me so I never miss a shot.  God has asked me to take this particular lens off and let Him repair it.  I gladly release it to Him.  I trust Him.

If you have a relationship in your life where you feel you’ve tried everything you know to be the right person, try being Jesus.  Just Jesus.  Not Jesus-husband, Jesus-wife, Jesus-friend, Jesus-relative, Jesus-father, Jesus-mother, Jesus-coworker.  Just…Jesus.

It’s an entirely different perspective – one I needed.  I see this person differently.  I see the world differently.  I see myself differently.  All of it laced with grace, truth and hope.

What do you see when you look at your life, your world, through the eyes of Jesus?

Diary of Thankfulness

Today I found myself saying, Thank You, Lord, throughout the day and want to write these moments down so as to not forget the blessings that make an ordinary day extraordinary.

I am thankful for the opportunity to stay home with my sick child.  I remember when I was his age, if I was sick I had to stay at my grandparents’ home for the day while my mom worked.  She wanted to be home with me, and I knew that even as a tween, but she had no choice.  My grandparents were wonderful people.  I loved them dearly.  But, no one fully replaces a mother’s touch.  She knows what your favorite drink is, television show is, and when you took your medicine last.  I got to be that to my sweet boy today.  With every cough, I winced in compassionate pain.  With every ringing of the thermometer, I said a prayer it wasn’t high.  I loved being able to put socks on his feet and kiss the bottoms of them, breathing in the smell of clean laundry.  I loved propping his pillows, filling his humidifier and stroking his hair.  I am blessed to be here for my family and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

I am thankful that I had to park so far from the doors of Wal Mart this evening.  I trolled the parking lot in my van, like everyone else, hoping for a close spot.  It’s cold and wet outside – bleck – and I wanted to get inside asap.  But, no such space could be found.  Two blessings popped up in the parking lot aisle.  First, I was stuck behind a couple walking so slowly I thought I would go insane!  They never once cared that I was behind them.  They were intent on their conversation, pushing their cart and looking at each other while speaking.  Their gray hair and wrinkled skin were signs of many years together.  My frustration (because had they moved over a few feet I could have driven around them) turned into a longing that I hope to be old and gray, leaving the store with my man, and be so in love after all those years that I cared not who was around me as long as I was with him and listening to the sound of his voice and admiring the smile on his handsome face.

I am thankful for grace.  I am a rule follower, but not perfect by any stretch of the imagination.  After meandering around the super center (overwhelming!), I snaked my way to check out.  The endless checkouts were full of people.  My head spun.  I found a 20 items or less lane and dashed for it.  Once in line, I began to count my items.  Ug.  There were a few more than 20 hiding beneath the bulkier stuff that covered them.  I don’t care if someone with more than 20 is in front of me, but these days everyone keeps their panties in so much of a wad that I had no idea what society would do to me.  Trust me, I’ve had people say the weirdest things to me over the years for far less than 20+ items.  The cashier was just as friendly to me at the end of the sale as she was at the beginning – after ringing up said 20+ items.  I really appreciated her turning a blind eye.  And, for the woman behind me.  She could see into my cart – full view.  But, she said nothing.  I was late picking up my other kids, it was dark, hubby was at home with sick son waiting with dinner…I really just needed to check out and leave.  It’s as though God shushed everyone and let me pass.  If we are honest, we all need a pass sometimes.  That’s why I don’t freak out when I’m the one waiting in line behind said 20+ item customer.  It must be their turn for a pass.

I am thankful that I could go to the store and replace the empty bag of cough drops, a bottle of vitamin C and honey without fearing an overdraft in my account.

I am thankful for driving my teens all over town tonight to their activities because: it means they are healthy and can do a sport they love to do, we have a van to drive around in that is warm and reliable (and although it’s 6 years old it’s paid for!!!), and it creates stolen moments of time with my teens that lends itself to great conversation with a captive audience – and that goes both ways.  My son drives, so he gives me a break and the 3 of us get to shoot the breeze about our days.  It is precious time that is the fabric of our days.

I am thankful for a faithful husband and children who love me no matter what.  We are a motley crew of love, forgiveness and laughter all wrapped up into one ball of organized chaos and I love it.

I am thankful for my dog who always greets me at the door – every single time.  She thinks each of us hung the moon!  Everyone needs someone in their life who thinks they can do no wrong – even if that someone is furry and walks on all fours.

I am thankful for a hot meal and deeply spiritual conversation with the family tonight.  Good stuff.  Nothing taken for granted.

I am thankful for a moment tonight to reflect on some of the blessings of the day.  These are just a few.

I am thankful for the opportunity to pray for friends and family.  We are community and have each others’ backs.  What would I do without them?

I am thankful for praying over my children.  What an honor.  I love that my oldest son, in the nest for only a couple of more years, still comes to me at my computer late at night just to tell me he loves me one more time.  And for my daughter who asks me to help fix her hair.  For a teenage girl to ask her mom to help her with her hair – that’s a huge compliment!  I love how she and I have our own girl club here, being outnumbered by the guys and all.

People spend too much energy rating their blessings.  If it’s big, then it’s special and deserves praise.  I love the big blessings, but it’s the small ones that remind me how well God knows me – and that’s a big deal.  He finds ways to bless us that are so personal, so unique to just our lives, it makes me smile and shake my head in wonder.

I am thankful for His love, protection and hand of mercy that leaves its fingerprints all over my life.  When a believer begins to grasp the grace and mercy and unconditional love God has for us (and the whole world), then we can release all of our worries and fears and fully trust Him to work His plan in our lives.  That is true contentment, and I am going to sleep tonight feeling very content.  I hope you can, too.

Lastly, I am thankful for a healthy body that was able to do all of these things today.  Clarity of mind, physical strength and good health are far too often taken for granted.  I’ve watched loved ones suffer without one or more of these.  I’ve suffered without physical strength and good health.  When I lay down to go to sleep, it will be with a tired body that will know it’s a good tired because it was used in love and service to my family and community.

Tomorrow is another day, and I will look for the hidden blessings along the path God has willed for my life.  I pray the same for you.  Until then, here’s to being thankful for one of life’s sweetest, richest blessings…rest.  Ahh.

I prayed the wrong prayer

I’ve had missions on my mind heart and mind so much lately as sign-up deadlines approach.  In the post, An honest look at missions, I divulged some of the fears I’ve felt this year about returning to the global mission field.  In, The day I touched fear, I explored more deeply what those fears look like from the inside out.

Today, it’s a totally different story.  Just when I thought things were beginning to settle down in my mind, God had something unexpected prepared for last Thursday.

It began on Wednesday night.  We were at church for dinner before nightly activities began.  Serving the salad bar was a man I highly respect and admire (though I am not sure he knows it).  His and his wife have dedicated their retirement years to taking their grandchildren, one by one, on mission.  It is their gift to them.  I had never heard of this, but now, Lord willing, Bruce and I would love to do the same thing one day.  So my dear friend, Kermit, said Hello – always with a smile – when he saw me approach.  Hi Kermit!  I replied cheerfully, always happy to see him.

When I see him I think of one thing…Kenya.  He and his wife were part of our team in 2011 that went on mission to Kenya.  Let me just tell you that this man was incredible throughout the entire journey.  He never uttered a complaint, never said No, never looked tired, nothing!  He trucked on every day with whatever the agenda was.  Our team leaders, Don and Pat, also grandparents, as well as Kermit’s wife, Kay, were exactly the same way.  They have no idea how much I watched them work through every unexpected trial and celebrate every great moment.  Kenya was my first global mission trip as well as the first time I had ever left the States.  I was wide-eyed at the whole thing and loved every surreal moment.

Kermit was a mentor to me on that trip whether he realized it or not.  Whether it was sawing wood at an orphanage, washing feet at a children’s school on the side of the mountain, digging trenches for a foundation, or harvesting corn for an orphanage, his attitude was always an enthusiastic Yes.  At any given time you could find him quietly working – never for accolades, never bringing attention to himself.  He simply did what he came to do – serve.  And serve with a joyful heart he did.

Copyrighted photos for Real Deep Stuff - Page 194

Copyrighted photos for Real Deep Stuff - Page 195

He and his wife brought one of their grandsons with them who was graduating high school and wants to go into medicine.  He was able to observe surgeries at the only hospital in the entire area servicing 850,000 people.  So in addition to tireless efforts of physical work and long van rides across unbelievable bumpy roads, Kermit and Kay spent quality time with their grandson in the evenings encouraging him in his passion for medicine.

You can see why I am so taken back with them.  Role models.  Inspirational.

A few Sundays ago, when I was really struggling with feelings of fear of going on global mission, I stood with the congregation at church while everyone sang – but me.  Tears streamed down my cheeks.  I could not utter a word.  I was overwhlemed with emotion because in the choir stood men (including Kermit) and women who have been on mission all over the world, and yet they were able to stand and smile while singing Chris Tomlin’s song Whom Shall I Fear…

You hear me when I call, You are my morning song, Though darkness fills the night, It cannot hide the light…

Whom shall I fear?

You crush the enemy, Underneath my feet, You are my Sword and Shield, Though trouble lingers still…

Whom shall I fear?

I know Who goes before me, I know Who stands behind, The God of angel armies, Is always on my side.  The One who reigns forever, He is a Friend of mine, The God of angel armies, Is always by my side…

My strength is in Your name, For You alone can save, You will deliver me, Yours is the victory

I know Who goes before me, I know Who stands behind, The God of angel armies, Is always on my side.  The One who reigns forever, He is a Friend of mine, The God of angel armies, Is always by my side…

Whom shall I fear?  Whom shall I fear?

And nothing formed against me shall stand, You hold the whole world in your hands, I’m holding onto Your promises, You are faithful, You are faithful, You are faithful

I know Who goes before me, I know Who stands behind, The God of angel armies, Is always on my side. The One who reigns forever, He is a Friend of mine, The God of angel armies, Is always by my side…

I know Who goes before me, I know Who stands behind, The God of angel armies, Is always on my side. The One who reigns forever, He is a Friend of mine, The God of angel armies, Is always by my side…

The God of angel armies is always by my side.

(Read more: CHRIS TOMLIN – WHOM SHALL I FEAR (GOD OF ANGEL ARMIES) LYRICS)

 It has been people I know who have inspired me the most to take our family on mission.  Celebrities make headlines and win humanitarian awards, but far and away it is people who quietly go about the Lord’s business, sacrificing their hard-earned money and vacation time, who I look at and think, Maybe I can do it, too.

With that thought, an unexpected conversation came up between my husband and me.  I was sitting in the Wal-Mart parking lot with the bright morning sun beaming into the van last Thursday.  I called him to briefly chat about missions.  We’ve been so upside down and inside out about it that we seem to talk in circles.  Frustrating.

I told him that I felt a new passion to go back to Ukraine.  As for Kenya, that is still undecided.  I heard myself say to him with confidence and certainty, I’m going to Ukraine.  He basically said, Okay, but I’m not sure what I’m doing.

After the phone call, I sat silent in the van.  Something didn’t seem right.  Why wasn’t I excited that half of my decision for this year’s missions had been finally – at long last – decided?  I should’ve felt relieved, joyful and sure.  Instead, I felt very anti-climatic about the whole thing.

God spoke to me in the van and said, Why is this only about you?  Are you not half of a whole?

Immediately, my heart understood.

To know me is to know I’ve struggled my entire adult life trying to live a life of biblical submission to my husband.  It’s not how I was raised, as my biological father and step father both left my life at early ages.  I grew to be a headstrong, independent and self-reliant woman.  Partially out of mistrust of men, and partially because I never wanted to be hurt again and believed people will only let you down – especially those who are supposed to have your back.

I have such a stubborn, independent streak in me it is nearly impossible to ever ask for help of any kind from anyone.  It’s not a control thing.  It’s an I’m going to end up having to do it anyway so why go through the grueling process of involving others because they are only going to let me down thing.

So, without me even realizing it, missions had become yet another area where I took the ball and ran.  Rather than looking at these opportunities with my heart toward my husband, I was peering through the glasses of practicality and reasonability.

I had been praying the wrong prayer of God, where do You want to send me?  Instead of, God where do you want to send us?

I didn’t even realize I had morphed my independent nature into missions!  Bruce and I are different people with different passions.  But, we are two halves of a whole.  When we made a covenant oath at the altar almost 23 years ago, we were joined into one flesh.

Leaving consideration for him out of my prayer was selfish.  And it was the feeling of, I got my way, that I felt in the van that left me celebrating alone.

Despite my good intentions of doing God’s kingdom work here on earth, my carnal nature creeped into my thoughts.  Here’s why…the first two mission trips were very scary for me.  I am not a seasoned world traveler.  I am not bilingual.  I am not proficient in cultural differences around the world compared to my own – other than the obvious ones.

It was all of these I’m nots that kept me from feeling qualified or invited to go on mission for my entire life until now.  Fast forward – jumped those hurdles, but it still took more courage than I could muster up to commit, particularly because these mission trips involved taking our children which I take very seriously.  I needed Bruce to make the final call.  As the leader of our home, I needed him to say yes or no.  So for both trips, I passed the baton to him to decide.

This year, however, it felt very different for me.  I’ve been to both places, so there aren’t near as many unknowns.  I also understand more what is expected from me from the team.  I simply feel more prepared than before – as much as it is possible to feel.

Enter my stubborn independence.

I was ready to possibly take an entirely different mission trip from my husband, without ever hearing his final point-of-view…and God let me feel every last ounce of that loneliness.

There is a time and season for everything, and I am sure there will come a time when we do participate in different mission trips, but neither one of believe that time has come yet.  It was out of sheer self-reliance that I went ahead and told him what I was going to do.  Hmm.  Then God brought to mind our crazy life.  Between work, kids, and all of our commitments, we have to scratch and claw for anytime together.  It could always be worse, but it’s not ideal.  We know this is a season of life, and all too soon our house will be deafeningly quiet and I will mourn for the wonderful chaos that greets me in the morning and tucks me in at night.

Given that, why would I not bat an eye at the possibility of spending weeks apart?  I believed my own lie of being too independent.  God brought to mind my biological father and his wife.  You’ve never seen a closer couple.  They were best friends.  Inseparable.  Loving.  Considerate.  Two halves that made a beautiful whole.

I want that.

Watching her care for him in his last days, the intimacy they shared – the eye contact, touch, whispers, – was the result of many years of building a marriage that was committed.  Resolute.  I used to think it was a little over the top that they always had to sit together, go places together, etc.  Now that he is gone, I see that they were intentional about making the most of their time together.  There were their own persons, yes, but they never forgot they were two halves of a whole.

After pondering all of this, still sitting in the parking lot, I texted Bruce.  This is what I wrote, Hi Honey, I wanted to tell you that after giving it a lot of thought, I would rather go with you on mission to wherever than without you on mission to wherever.  I often think about Ray and Gail and their relationship.  They were inseparable.  They were best friends and did everything together.  I would like to see that for us in missions, so I concede to wherever it is you want to go just as long as we can be together or unless God says differently.  We are one flesh, one team, and I don’t want to break up the team.  Think about it and let me know.  I love you.

That text was surprisingly freeing for me!  I felt like my heart was finally in a place of peace.  Funny, the first two years I needed him to make the decision as to where to go. This year, I asked him to.  I may have felt my inner wild horse buck and kick, but my heart knew that missions isn’t one more thing I want to lead us on different paths.

Yesterday, a dear friend of mine (who went to Ukraine with us last year) asked me if we were going to sign-up for it this year.  With a calm, peaceful smile I was able to genuinely reply, I’m waiting on Bruce to make that call…and if so, I’m leaving it up to him to sign up us.

That, friends, is the work of the Holy Spirit because the independent woman writing this would normally take matters into her own hands.

She smiled at me and said, Oh, you’re working on the “s” word, huh?  I laughed because I knew what word she meant – submission.   Indeed I am.  Waiting for Bruce to write our names down is very important to me for whatever reason.  I suppose it shows his iniative after much prayer and discussion, though I haven’t told him this is my wish.

Last night, before we left to watch the Superbowl with some friends, Bruce casually told me as we gathered coats and a chocolate cake,  Oh by the way, earlier today I put our names down for Ukraine.

His words stopped me in my tracks in the middle of the kitchen.  Later, I circled back with him and inquired.  He agreed that this is the only option for our family to go on mission all together.  He feels a peace about it and we are all excited.  God knew my secret wish for Bruce to write our names down on any of the trips we take this year, and He directed Bruce to do so out of loving consideration for me.  God is the good God and knows our secret thoughts.  Incredible.

So, one decision down and one to go – Kenya.  God has given us much peace that this decision will come in His timing, not ours.  So be it.  For now, I look forward to going back to people we fell in love with in Eastern Europe; to work with a team we greatly admire; we get to take all of our kids; and…most of all…Bruce and I have the blessing of going on mission together.

God is good.  Actually, He is amazing!  Every year, the decisions we have made about missions have been completely unique to the trip.  This year is no different.  God’s ways are not our ways, and His timing certainly doesn’t hold itself to our society’s demand for instant information, but His ways are best.  Had He given us the answer early on, I would have missed a teachable moment to see that in this process, Bruce and I walked dangerously close to the line of separating our longitude and latitude, once again, for the good of the cause.  We do enough of that in our daily lives.

When the time comes to travel separately for missions, God will give us a peace about that and we will perfectly okay with it.  For now, I write to testify that Philippians 4:6-7 really works in and through all things – even with a strong-willed, autonomous person like myself. 😉

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Today, and on mission, I won’t forget I am half of a whole.  Colossians 3:15 reminds us – Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.

Thankful, indeed.

The day I touched fear

Copyrighted photos for Real Deep Stuff - Page 193It was a hot, sunny day on the west coast of Florida.  I was with my husband and his family visiting his younger brother in college.  Beach-dwellers that we are, we embarked on a day of sun, sand and water.

I stood at the tide line and gazed out at the watery horizon.  We were planning to snorkel, not something I’m crazy about doing.  There just seems something really unnatural about breathing through a tube underwater.  I usually wind up semi-hyperventilating because I am unable to regulate my breathing.  I imagine all kinds of what-if scenarios:  a drop of water spilling into the snorkel causing my airway to close, a wave engulfing my snorkel with the same result, etc.  Let’s just say it, I don’t like to snorkel, but was willing to be a good sport and go along with the family plan.

A long, thick, dark line rippled in the water.  Squinting, I saw it was a large band of seaweed that stretched across the water in both directions as far as I could see.  To make matters worse, the seaweed began The Deep.  You know, where the tidal shelf drops into oblivion and  creatures of the sea play in their playground.

I love, love, love the sea and all that is in it.  From sharks to angler fish to sea urchins, I will never stop getting a kick out of God’s creativity, imagination and ingenuity that is so proudly displayed in the creatures of the sea.  But, I also know humans weren’t meant to live in it, and thus we enter their territory. I fully respect that it is their home and not mine.

Splashing around in shallow water is one thing.  Venturing into the deep, dark unknown is another.  I swallowed hard and felt my stomach turn.  I reasoned that as long as I didn’t touch the seaweed, I would be in the safer, shallow water.

Got it.  The seaweed is my marker.  It was the beginning of The Deep.  I will tolerate snorkeling as long as I don’t touch a thread of the nasty stuff.

Bruce, his brother and I waded out into waist-high water, fighting against the crashing waves and stubborn under toe.  They both dipped headfirst into the water with only the tips of their snorkels spouting up in the air and an occasional flipper kicking behind them.

My turn.

I took a deep breath then practiced a few normal breaths through the snorkel.  My chest was already heaving.

Just go already, I said to myself, not wanting to fall behind.

I leaned forward and fell face-first into the murky water.  Phase 1 complete.

I began to kick my flippers, swimming parallel to the beach as the current tried to pull me toward the shore.

Don’t touch the seaweed, Kristi.  Whatever you do, don’t touch the seaweed! I reminded myself over and over.  I didn’t want to be anywhere near the abyss that housed mysterious creatures lurking who knows how closely by.  Florida, after all, is home to some of the largest shark populations in the world.  Love them!!!!  But, I don’t need a close encounter with them unless its through a cage.

I tried to follow the shadowy figures of my husband and brother-in-law.  It was really hard to see in the water thick as pea soup.

All of a sudden, you guessed it, I felt the seaweed.  It brushed up against my left arm, then my left leg.  It tickled my stomach, and longer strands grazed my hair.

Before I knew it, I was completely tangled up in the mess of it!  It was all over me as if I were a small fly caught in an enormous spider web.  The more I struggled to break free, the worse it got.

Couple this moment with the fact that I’m definitely hyperventilating through the dumb snorkel and I can only imagine the show I must have given the sun worshipers on the sandy beach.  I probably looked like I was wrestling an alligator (which have been known to make an appearance!).

My body was flailing horizontally on the water’s surface as I struggled to remain clam.  Nope.  I was too far gone for that.  My lungs grew hot as I held my breath, not wanting any water to fill my snorkel, and my arms and legs were utterly caught in the disgusting seaweed.  I could no longer see my husband or brother-in-law and knew I had been separated from them.  I was in big trouble.  I had been pulled into the seaweed by the current and was in The Deep – alone.

Just don’t try to stand up, Kristi.  Then you’ll know how really deep you are and that will make matters worse, I counciled myself.

No such luck.  The will of self-preservation kicked in and I shot out of the water like a rocket, breathing a huge, obnoxious gulp of air with eyes bulging and body shaking.

To my surprise, and embarrassment, I nearly tackled my poor brother-in-law!  He was only about a foot in front of me, and I landed right in his face.  He had turned toward me in the same moment I sailed through the air like a swordfish with a sheer look of horror on my face.

When I landed, my feet plunged into the sand much sooner than I expected to in The Deep.

Well, that is because I wasn’t actually in The Deep.  I stood up and realized the water was barely to my waist.  There I stood, with seaweed draped on me like a swamp monster, heaving, snorkel floating nearby in the water, trembling with mouth agape at the whole escapade.

He looked with shock and bewilderment at the scene I had created.

I quickly gathered my composure (on the outside), gave a sheepish smile and apologized for my weird behavior and told him I was fine.

He gave me an Okay, but I don’t really believe you, you crazy woman glance, then turned around and continued snorkeling.

I, however, could only stand there and process what had happened.  I looked again at the band of seaweed, and from where I was standing in the water, it wasn’t drifting as far out to sea as it looked like from the shore.  Nor could I judge how deep the water was with sand in between my toes.

We were, in fact, a safe distance from The Deep.  Everything changed when I saw it from a different longitude and latitude.  Boy did I feel ridiculous!

That experience has never left me – nor the lesson it taught me.

I learned that fear is powerful.  Very powerful.  It can affect us mentally, emotionally and physically.  Fear of the unknown allows much room for us to fill in the blanks with worst-case scenarios.

What began as a fun day at the beach with my extended family turned into, in my mind, a life-or-death situation where I was being pulled out to sea and straight into the mouth of something much larger and stronger than me.

There were multiple layers of fear that day.  Fear of being separated from my family.  Fear of being alone.  Fear of not being able to control the situation.  Fear of what may have its eye on me.  Fear of just how deep the trouble I was in – way over my head.  Fear of not being able to breathe.  Fear of being helpless and being beyond help.  And fear that this horrible moment will never, ever end!

Were any of those fears real?  Well, some – to a point.

If I had been separated from my family, I guess I believed I would have been lost forever.  This stems from abandonment issues – 20 years later I am still working on courtesy of childhood scars.  The truth is, my family wouldn’t have left the beach without me.  They would have, at some point, noticed I was gone, and felt like I was worthy enough to come find me.

I don’t know many people who like being alone lonely.  Let me clarify that.  I love being alone, but have a very hard time handling loneliness   I had that in spades growing up, and if I never feel lonely again it would be too soon.  I thoroughly enjoy time by myself, but that’s not the same as being lonely.  Being lost in the ocean would have been the bad kind of being alone, but again, I didn’t believe at the time that I was worth searching for.  Enter lonely and afraid.

Fear of a lack of control.  Please raise your hand if you struggle with this, too!  Don’t we all want to be the captain of our ship in some way?  It’s our carnal nature to turn our compass in the direction we want to go.  And, if we could control the weather, the water, the sun and the moon so as to plan our trip, well, that would be even better.  In the moment of sheer panic in the ocean that day, trusting God for my safety was the last thing on my mind.  Was He not watching?  Seeing?  Still sovereign on His throne? (Psalm 121)  Does He not care for us all of the time? (Matthew 6:25-34)

And yes, anytime we venture into a world where we are the minority, the foreigner, there is risk.  Listen to survivors tell their stories of being lost in the Amazon, on the African plains, in ice caverns, etc.  When we are in these places – we play by the rules of nature there.  Sure, there could have been something in the water, but again, I had total amnesia as to God’s hand of protection or His plans for my life.  Even if I had been attacked by a shark, could God still not find a way to use it for my good and His glory?  He can…with our cooperation.

Sometimes we get into trouble over our head either by choice or by default.  I had lost sight of God as Rescuer either by the hand of a loved one or stranger, or any other creative means He may choose to save me.  I believed the situation was bigger than me and God.  That is wrong.  Lots of things are bigger than me, but nothing is bigger than God.  I never asked Him to save me.  That makes me sad.  He is my Good Father and I forgot to call on Him when I needed help.

Life feels suffocating sometimes.  We feel helpless.  This is a recipe for panic and anxiety.  God is God of peace and order.  He controls all, all the time.  Nothing happens to us that hasn’t passed through His hands first.  He can never be surprised, shocked or unprepared for what life may bring. We can be blindsided.  He never closes His eyes.  When we are at our worst, weakest and most helpless, He is our superhero, our Savior.

Ah.  The last fear – that the moment will never end.  That was a low blow from the enemy.  Nothing on this earth will last forever.  No, I take that back.  There are two things – God’s Word and our decision as to where to spend eternity.  Everything else will fade away (Matthew 24:35).  Everything.  When we are caught in a moment that feels like a downward spiral pulling us further from the oxygen we need so badly to get through a tough situation, it is easy to merely see the darkness enveloping around us.  But, broaden our lens and we see that even darkness is as light to God.  Nothing is hidden from Him (Psalm 139:12).

I’ve been thinking about this experience lately in regards to missions.  I’ve let fear take me hostage on a runaway train of imagination and exaggeration and have felt every fear that I did at the beach that day.  There are risks to missions, but there is risk walking to our mailbox, driving to work, and anything we do.  Anything.  When deciding what to do about missions this year, it would behoove us to deliberately, intentionally, boot fear to the curb.  It has no place in God’s calling.

What are you fearful about?  Have any big decisions weighing on you?

I think God understands we feel fear because He remembers we are made of dust (Psalm 103:13-14).  We aren’t superhuman like He is.  But, when we choose to see things from His longitude and latitude (a heavenly perspective, I might add), we are reminded of just how much He loves us and never takes His eyes off of us (Psalm 17:8).  And, the more we turn from our natural instinct to fear and choose to think like Him, the more we can see His divine plan at work in our lives.

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. ~ Romans 12:2

Whether heading out for a fun day at the beach, or stepping out in faith on mission, there is one Truth that remains – and it is enough for all who call on Christ as Savior…

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. ~ Joshua 1:9

Dear Lord, lead on.  Amen.

An honest look at missions

I’m wrestling against an enemy I cannot see.  Right now, our family is making some difficult decisions regarding missions for this year.  As I sat at the dinner table last night, a raw thought spilled out of my mouth.

This used to be fun, I said resting my fork on the table and blankly staring out the window.

You know, the mission decision.  It was exciting.  Adventurous.  A radical move of following God where He leads.  Now, I am so twisted up in knots I can’t think straight.

My children looked at me in bewilderment.  This wasn’t their fearless mother who encourages, instructs and motivates her children to say YES! to God before we know the question.

I hesitate to write any further in the event I come off sounding like a whiny, spoiled American.  The fact is, I have nothing to complain about on a global spectrum of needs.  I feel guilty for even writing this post because I have no room to complain compared to the billions of other people who share this planet.

But, I am also human.  Finite.  Flawed.  I have weaknesses I cannot deny, and it’s those weaknesses that want to keep me from leaving my nest.  I have feelings.  I have emotions.  Sometimes when thinking about missions I wonder how much my heart can take when I see the most basic of needs or witness the power-hungry, cruelty of humanity.

I am a woman who has been on 2 different mission trips to very different parts of the world – Africa and eastern Europe.  On each trip, I’ve never felt so alive.  So…New Testament, if you will.  I’ve never in my life cast everything aside to follow God and trust Him for every step.  It was blind faith like I’ve never had before.  It was perfect peace that is ridiculous to the world’s ears.  So, why aren’t I dragging out our bags and grabbing our passports this year?

I will be completely honest and tell you it is fear.

You see, when I went on those trips, I had no idea what to expect.  The trips were going to be what they were, and I was perfectly fine with that because I didn’t know any differently.  I lived moment-to-moment in each continent and abandoned all of my plans, agenda, requirements, everything.  I fully immersed myself in the culture and in God’s leadership.

However, when we returned from Kenya two summers ago, a tsunami-sized wave of what if scenarios hit me hard and brought me to my knees.

My eyes were no longer blind to what could happen on a mission trip, or simply traveling overseas by myself or with our children.  I know it was the enemy that tried hard to steal my joy of all that God did on that mission trip, and I felt powerless to stop him because what could I say?  God never promised safe passage, only that we’d never be alone in it.

There were times when we were completely relying on God to help us – like when we arrived in Nairobi and customs took far longer than we thought.  The driver who was to pick us up at the airport, when the clock finally struck midnight and the airport was closing, wasn’t there.

I thought, That’s okay.  Our leaders have this under control.  I’ll just wait with the kids and our luggage until something works out.

On a warm summer afternoon, as we drove back from visiting a school totally off the grid, rain began to fall.  The water mixed with the powdery dust and made the roads as slippery as ice.  Our van slid and skid and we hung on tight as I looked out the window to see deep trenches on either side of our van.  I simply hung on, smiling, knowing everything would be alright.

When our oldest son fell at an orphanage and suffered a severe, and I mean severe, concussion, we did all we could for him without the availability of any proper means for exam or treatment.  In fact, the next day we had to travel hours to another school, which proved to be the worst roads I’ve ever been on.  We were literally thrown out of our seats for the hours-long ride.  Not at all what a concussion patient needs to rest and mend.  However, choices were limited and we trusted God with our son’s health – in addition to pain relievers and waking him up every two hours and doing all we cold to keep him comfortable.

Even on the safari we had the privilege to take after our mission work was done proved to make the hair stand up on my neck.  At one point, our Land Rover got lodged on a large boulder on an incline up a mountain.  If that wasn’t nerve-racking enough, there happened to be two Cape Buffalo on either side of our vehicle, so close we cold touch them.  Our driver was out of cell phone reach and we were stuck.  That was one moment when I truly felt like I was going to have a panic attack as our vehicle had no windows or roof.  We wound up having to back off the boulder, going straight down the mountain backwards.  Oh my soul.

Upon our arrival back in the States, something in the water the ONE TIME my husband and I consumed it via ice on the plane made us so sick we wanted to die.  We broke our family’s 8-year streak of not throwing up.  Friends had to come take our kids to their homes so Bruce and I could just lie there and not talk or move or anything for days.  It was wicked.

I could go on and tell of the times that I felt vulnerable and completely out of my element…but it was awesome.  When I was at my weakest, God was at His strongest. Never have I needed to rely on Him more.

I could tell you how much I learned from the loving Kenyan people that contentment is a state of mind, not a tangible luxury.  They blew me away with how happy they were in the midst of suffering, gentle in the face of hardship, at peace in the midst of crisis.

I could tell you about a little girl, 5 or 6 years old, who lost her leg in a fire and dragged her little body on her stomach every week from her house to church – by herself.  The church, using scrap lumber from a donation to build a small, plywood structure, constructed a crutch for her, and how team members with us made some phone calls and lo and behold a pediatric prosthetic surgeon was going to be making her first-ever visit to this region and with donations from our church this precious little girl now has a prosthetic leg and runs and plays with the rest of her friends for the first time.  Her mom, a former prostitute, was so overwhelmed by the love of the church that she gave her life to Christ and has begun an honorable career to provide for them both.

I could tell you about the wonderful man who runs a dearly loved orphanage with children that we fell in love with so much our hearts nearly burst.  He has dedicated his life to providing for these children, when he himself lost his oldest son in a piki piki (motorcycle) accident last summer.  Yet, he continues to serve these precious little ones who are so full of promise if only they would be given a chance.

I met a boy at this orphanage who is so brilliantly smart, will he ever have an opportunity to change the world?

Our daughter fell head over heals in love with a little girl at this orphanage and the two became inseparable.  A photo of the two of them hangs on the wall of her bedroom still today.

The worship, the joy and the trust these Kenyans have in God is breathtaking.

In Ukraine this past summer, we met some of the most inspiring young people I’ve ever seen.  They are a new generation whose hope is in God of the possible.  They welcomed us as family from the first greeting, and clung to us in sorrowful tears when we left.  They are unlike any group of teens I know.  They have committed themselves to the leadership of their church.

Working with them was such an honor!  They don’t know the word impossible, and have a pure faith in Jesus that is hard to find in the States.  A few boys and girls befriended me and I carry them in my heart still today.

One young boys’ dream is to come to the States so he can be healed of his crippling disease and deaf ears.  His heart is so tender and smile so big, he captivated me with his gentle spirit and quiet determination to be involved in what everyone was doing with us.

However, the remnants of Soviet control are everywhere – and it was daunting.  The search light towers, barbed wire, and antiquated barracks of military and political oppression were merely feet from us and proved to be an ominous presence for a woman like myself who has never been more grateful for her freedom in the United States.

I also had one of the worst sinus infections I’ve ever experienced the day we were to return home.  Flying with a 101.5 fever and climbing, a head so stopped up I could hardly hear and definitely couldn’t breathe well, it took everything in me to step on the plane. The first leg of the flight was 10 hours, then an overnight stay and connecting flight.  I tried to count the hours until I could get to a doctor, as well as muster the courage to get on the second flight.

But for the time being, I had to succumb to the fact that I would be airborne for 10 hours with this horribly severe sinus infection. I wanted to just let the luggage fall off my shoulders and let my body fall into a heap in the middle of the airport.  I wanted to cry. But, I had to keep moving.

On both missions, the good outweighed the bad for sure.  But here I sit with some big decisions to make with my husband.  Dynamics are different this year.  We are confused. I can’t hear clearly because of the what-ifs taunting me.

It would be so easy, so comfortable, to just say no this year.  We have a full life right here, and most days we feel we are hanging on by our fingernails.  We wonder if it’s too much to ask of our children again.  Perhaps some will stay home?  Perhaps not.  Bruce’s work is a demanding job, and he enjoys it very much.  But, it consumes a lot of his time and as a wife I worry about balance in his life.  Can he handle missions this summer, or will it be too taxing on him mentally, physically or emotionally?  I get concerned about my own health, as since traveling overseas I’ve realized my ankles blow up like balloons and am not sure how bad or not this is for me.  I wear compression hose, but still…  Also, our typhoid shots expire soon and we may need new ones.  Will this be the time one of us has a reaction to the vaccine?  Will the fundraising come in as I honor my husband’s (and children’s) requests (which is also my heart’s desire) to stay home for this season of life as wife and mother and we live on one income?  Will international travel go okay this go round?  Will more injuries occur?  Will more illness break out?

So many questions burden my heart.

The first time around, we were giddy knowing that God simply said Go.  Ignorance truly was bliss.

Now, we’re not so naive, and the knowledge I’ve gleaned about serving on short-term mission trips scares me.  There is so much that could go wrong that I never ever imagined. Now my eyes are open and I kind of wish they weren’t.

I have a whole new appreciation for Christ’s words to pick up our cross daily and follow Him.

To go or not to go isn’t about leaving my comfort zone, although I shocked myself with how uncomfortable I was feeling dirty the entire time in Africa.  I hid these feelings and they turned into shame and guilt – which discouraged my desire for missions.

I was overwhelmed the entire time we were in Ukraine regarding the language barrier.  I remember riding in a bus on the highway trying to make any sense of the billboards.  It was almost a panicky feeling that swept over me in an enormous need to simply read or hear English in the community.  Again, I was so ashamed of these negative feelings I hid them.  Stuffed them.  And the enemy is using them against me.

Perhaps some of it is a loss of control of my life on mission.  I am a team member and follow the leaders.  Here in my daily life, although Bruce is surely the head of our house, I am the site manager who oversees the house, kids, volunteering, everything that is in the scope of my job while he is as his job.

Empty hands feel odd.

I’m so okay with following an agenda bigger than myself, the loss of sleep, the different foods, etc. so what’s my problem?

I don’t like flying at all.  I must leave some creature comforts at home – and with my back that’s easier said than done.  And I’m afraid of the known and unknown.  Okay.  I said it.

I hate admitting fear because it’s admitting a lack of trust in God, and I want to trust God with everything in me.  Mark 9:22-24 sums up my heart the best.  In the words of a worried and scared father over his possessed child…

“…But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.

If you can? said Jesus.  Everything is possible for him who believes.

Immediately the boys’ father exclaimed, I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”

Yes, God, I do believe…help me overcome my unbelief.

I’ve been yearning for direction and confirmation about what to do for missions this year. We feel the squeeze of time to make decisions.  I’m so tangled up in this I can’t think straight.

Oh how I wish I could just say, Yes, now what’s the question?

However, yesterday we received a letter from our Compassion daughter in Africa.  She has had such a hard life – losing her mom and dad – yet she has accomplished a nursing degree and is now working and supporting herself and her little brother.  We are so proud of her.  She’s come a long way since she became a part of our family when she was only 7 years old, living with her grandmother and brother.

In her recent letter, she told us her grandmother died and she is working in a different town than where she grew up.  She has had family and location changes.  Totally out-of-the-blue, in her letter to us she wrote, I encourage you don’t worry, for God is with you everywhere you are and He has good plans.

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I have been struggling inside over what to do about missions.  I have been beside myself and lay awake at night and mull it over and over in my head. I continue to ask God, but my thoughts drown out His voice. Our Compassion daughter’s words jumped off the page and into my heart.  Of all the letters over the last 14 years from her, it was this letter and her words at this time.  It is no coincidence.

Our Compassion daughter, who we’ve supported by paying for her food, clothing, education, etc. throughout the years in hopes that she will come to have a fulfilling life, saved by grace, provided me the wisdom I needed to hear at the exact moment I needed to hear it.  All these years I’ve been trying to bless her, and, as a fully grown woman she blessed me with Truth that I know, but cannot hear above the fear.

I was her mission ground, and her words all the way from Africa penetrated my heart and helped me believe again.

It’s with a broken heart, having seen the needs of this world God so dearly loves, and a mind submitted to God’s sovereignty, that I cannot resist Him anymore.  His love is contagious. His mercy divine.  His call undisputed.  His promise to never leave me is enough.

I will go.  Where?  I don’t know.  But I do know that my answer is Yes.

So Lord, she asks with a trusting heart and trembling hands, what is the question?

Perhaps that’s the problem

The downpours and cold wind this morning reflect not only the weather, but the atmosphere inside our home today.  Between oversleeping, bad traffic, final exams, and PowerPoint presentations due, we all scurried around trying to get everything together and still be on time to everywhere we needed to be.

My daughter, in particular, was having a hard time.  We all have those days where nothing seems to go right – and feeling rushed adds insult in injury.

Finally, everyone was there they needed to be, even at the expense of me missing my commitment.  As I stood still, trying to figure out where the day goes from here, God whispered to me that my baby girl needed something.

Like what? I asked.

Love, He answered.

I immediately began to think up ways I could show her love this afternoon like going to Starbucks, replenishing her eye shadow that just ran out, having a nail painting session, etc.

But all of that would have to happen after school.  God pressed me that her need just couldn’t wait.

I literally looked at the shower stall in my bathroom and thought how badly I needed one.

Nonetheless, I replied, I’m on board, God.  Mission Love.  What do You want to do?

I want to give her flowers, He answered.

Can I tell you that just makes me cry?  God is our Good Father, Abba Father, Sovereign God, and Lover of our soul.  He wanted to give His child, His beloved daughter, flowers.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at the clock.  I had less than 30 minutes to get out the door, buy the flowers and deliver them to the school before the window of calling students to the office closed until this afternoon.

I raced to the coat closet and grabbed my parka.  I threw on my faithful baseball cap that covers a multitude of mistakes with unwashed hair and put on my athletic pants and running shoes – not caring in the least what I looked like.

Jumping in the van, I took off for the grocery store.

Tick tock.

Standing in front of the flower selection, one beautiful bouquet stood out among the rest, and it just so happen to have her favorite colors flowers in it.  Got it!

Next, I passed by the Valentines Day candy selection and chose a small, 3 piece box of chocolate shaped like a heart with a picture of a rose on the front of it.

I already had a card set aside just for her.

Saying hello to one of my favorite cashiers who is like family to us, I paid for everything, and bolted.

Tick tock.

Arriving at school, I parked and began to sign the card.  I wrote that God wanted our girl to have these flowers.  His words went something like this,  Just like I designed and dressed these flowers beautifully, so  I designed and dressed you, my beloved daughter, even more beautifully!  

On Bruce’s and my behalf, I wrote, The chocolates are from your dad and me because we think you are really, really, really, really sweet!  Remember, no matter how dark the clouds are, and no matter how much they may rain on us, behind them, the “Son” still shines for you and through you.

Tick tock.

I brought a roll of tape along and taped the chocolates to the card and taped the card to the bouquet.

Daring the downpour, with no time left to spare, I raced across the parking lot into the dry building.  Breathless, I asked, Good morning!  Have they called the announcements yet?

The woman staffing the front desk said they just took the list to the office.

Off to the office I raced.

I threw open the door to the office and both women at their desks looked up at me and the bouquet of flowers in surprise.

May I add my daughter’s name to the list to be called?

We are new to this school, so I am still learning the ropes.  Their response was unexpected.

Um.  I’m not sure.  Let me check.  I think it’s against policy to allow these.

Whoa.  Really?  I never saw that coming.  But, they were from God, so how do I explain that???

Rather reluctantly, the woman went into an office to ask.  I was puzzled at her anti-climatic attitude.

Before she left the room, she left me with some thoughts.  She said, We usually don’t get flowers except for teachers.  Is this a birthday?  

No, it’s not, I replied.

She continued, At my old school, it was against school policy to carry flowers around all day.

Uh, okay, I said, hoping her old school policy didn’t apply here.

While she was gone, the other woman said to me, I have to ask, if they are not for a birthday, then why?

Trying to hold back my mamma’s tears, knowing what a hard time my daughter was having, I answered honestly, Because sometimes a girl just needs to get flowers.

She paused, took her glasses off, and stood up.

Great.  I’m probably in trouble now, I thought to myself.

She walked over to the counter where I stood and said, You’re absolutely right.  In that moment, her heart melted, as most women’s do over flowers.

She continued, If they won’t let you give these flowers to her, then she can keep them up here for the day and pick them up on her way home.

At that moment, MY heart melted at her kindness.

She sat back down at her desk and mouthed to me silently, Just know it’s an option.

The first lady came back out to me and said, I’m sorry, but they are just not allowed.

Why? I asked – genuinely confused.

She’s not allowed to take them to class because it will cause a disruption.

Okay, so can she keep them in her locker?

They will die.

I don’t think they will die in a matter of a few hours of a school day.

To know me is to know I hate conflict.  I just hate it and all the drama that goes with it. But, God wanted His daughter to have these flowers, and by golly I was going to fight for Him to give them to her…and asked for Him to fight for me as I stood there dripping wet, still holding the flowers.

It’s just not allowed.

I’m sorry, but why?

Because if we allow her to get flowers, then we’d have to allow that for all of the students.

And…what’s the problem with that?

Ha!  I stumped her.  She had no legitimate response and stood looking at me with frustration.

May I speak with who you asked? I asked calmly and with a smile.

Tick tock.

Sure, she said with displeasure.

The dean of students came out to greet me and told me the same thing I had just heard.  And by now, another woman (I have no idea who she was) was standing and watching this.

Oh, but they didn’t know I had a wild card.  Remembering the offer of letting the flowers stay in the office for the day (for everyone to enjoy on this gloomy day I might add) I played that card and proposed the office option.

The names of students to come to the office were literally being called as the dean and I spoke.

Tick tock tick tock!!!!!!

I held my breath, waiting for the okay from the dean.

She agreed, and just as she did, my daughter’s name was called over the intercom.

With not a second to spare.

I asked if I may wait and give them to her in person and explain the office procedure.

So there I stood in the hallway as a swarm of students passed by looking at a mom in a soaking wet parka and running shoes, holding a big, bright bouquet of flowers.

I turned around and saw my girl waiting in line with the other students that were called.

I held out the flowers and said smiling, These are for you.  The card will explain why.

We walked to the office together and put them in a pretty vase they set out just for us.  She and I turned to leave, but as I did I looked over my shoulder and mouthed to the compassionate woman at the desk who offered the wild card, Thank you, as a tear trickled down my cheek.

She smiled silently back at me and nodded.

As I left the school, something the first woman said to me wouldn’t let me go.  It’s why I am writing this post today.  She said, If we allow her to get flowers, then we’d have to allow that for all of the students.

Maybe that’s the problem?  Remember, God told me to do this so I take no credit, I was just the messenger.  But, perhaps if more parents would be willing to make their family second priority under God, then a ripple effect of love and confidence would be evident at school.  Statistics today show that children are more stressed out, are on more medications, and attempt suicide more often than in preceding decades.

Maybe they need a mom or dad to allow their day to be interrupted and do something out of the box for their child.  Kids are sending us signals all the time of what they need from us.  Are we listening?

God is sending us a word to speak over, or something special to do for our children, are we listening?

Are we willing to play the fool and be embarrassed over showing our children they are dearly loved?

I’m not advocating causing a scene or breaking rules, but as I found out today, there are often ways around an obstacle that offers a peaceful resolution.  Are we willing to advocate for our kids?

If not, why?

If not us, who will?

Now I know some would say that it wouldn’t be fair to the students who don’t have a dad or mom.  It would make them feel worse.

I get that because I lost my mom the summer before my senior year and didn’t have a dad. If anyone gets that point, I do.  But, think of how it could spill over to friends, mentors, and other relatives’ lives who could pick up the ball and run with it!

I would have given anything for someone to have brought me flowers in the middle of English class when every…single…day I struggled to find purpose for my life – feeling like I was a mistake and was left here to be nothing but a burden to my family and society.  I needed one person to show me I mattered.  That I was worth something of value.  I was loved. I would’ve been grateful no matter who the flowers, or note or chocolates, or whatever it was came from.

Our children today need to hear that they matter and they are worth it.  They need to hear God loves them.  We love them.  They have a future.  That they do fit in, even if we are their only safe place to feel accepted.

The easy thing would have been to wait and give the flowers to my girl at the end of the day when she came home.  But, God’s ways are not like ours.  We see only this moment in time. He sees time as one continuum, and if He took the time to urge me so in telling me it was as much about the timing as it was about the gift, then I’d better stop my agenda and listen.

If parents think their children are a-okay and are the exception and don’t need any extra effort from us to show how wonderfully they have been made, then parents aren’t listening. Their are no children who have it all figured out at 12, 14 or 17 – regardless of how many times their only response is, I’m fine.

Today, it was my daughter’s turn to feel special.  Wanted.  Loved.  Valued.  Important.  My boys will have their days, too, and I’m guessing God won’t ask me to bring them flowers to school, but I will be listening closely to the heartbeat of their lives to know when they need a boost, and I will be keeping an ear pointed to heaven waiting for instructions on how to show them they are so very loved.

Listen to your children.  Listen to the Lord.  Count it a privilege to get to be the secret agent acting as the messenger delivering God’s word of hope, love and a future.  Watch for the moment, and don’t let it slip by.  You may not get another chance.

Inspiration in an unexpected place

Pencils

Picking up the house, I made my usual way to the breakfast table/homework station. Scattered across it were pencils left behind by my kiddos from last night’s homework brigade.  As I scooped them up, I stopped and looked at them.

All of the erasers were worn off.

My first response was that I needed to buy eraser heads.  Oh, but that was too easy of a thought.

I stared at the pencils in my hand and thought about the hours my children put into their work.  Sometimes they are elated with mastering an academic concept, but other times they are so frustrated they want to quit.

But at least they try.

I, on the other hand, keep my dreams and ambitions locked away.  I fill my days with busywork.  It’s productive on the outside alright, but inside, it’s a shallow use of time.

There are projects that sit at the tip of the finish line, but never quite cross it.  Dreams that turn to ideas, but then fizzle at the reality of all they encompass.  Out-of-the-box stuff I’d love to give a go, if only I’d try.

Why not?

The typical.  Fear of failure and fear of success.  Both lame.  Both logical in their own right.

So the eraserless pencils are my motivation today to try anyway – no matter how strong those fears scoff.

I am inspired by my kids and they have no idea because they are busy trying their best and don’t see their mom standing in the background wishing she could be more like them.

To them, a wrong answer simply means another try.

I want to embrace the innocence of hope.  The resilience of 10th, 15th and 26th chances. The ability to accept frustration over a fail and not take it so personally.

My erasers stay pink and pretty because they are not used enough.  They are not used enough because I’m not willing to take the risks that make the magnificent happen in life.

That is changing.  There is a new person emerging these days.  A bolder soul who believes the cost is higher to not try at all than to try and fail.

My friend, Ann, gave a great reason today to turn away from excuses and get going – because we can.  She’s right!  Oh what we take for granted.

I’m excited to see what can happen – if only we will try.

Repeating insanity

My husband loves caring for his “woodland friends” as we call it – birds, squirrels, etc. We have a few bird feeders that hang outside our kitchen window that he stocks and oversees.

Recently, those little thieves (a.k.a. squirrels) found our new bird feeder.  Bruce thought he out-smarted them when he moved the feeder directly in front of the large, glass window pane.

Nope.

The squirrels simply climb the tree, anchor themselves in the Y of the branches, stare intently at the hanging feeder, then take a daring leap, hoping to land on the feeder. It’s a good number of feet away, and they are not flying squirrels.

Amazingly, they stick the landing every time.  However, they and feeder slam into the window, and I was convinced one unfortunate squirrel was going to go right through the glass, so I had my son move the feeder.  Also, I was tired of jumping every time I heard a loud bang against the window.  Problem solved, right?

Nope.

For two straight days, those crazy squirrels launched off of the Y branch into the air – and the feeder was no longer hanging!  They slammed into the window over and over, falling into the stick-filled bushes below.  I was sure I’d find a poor soul impaled in the azaleas.

Over and over these squirrels climbed, launched, flew, smacked into the glass and fell.  It was pitiful, but I had not an ounce of sympathy for them.  Couldn’t they see the feeder was gone?  What possessed them to jump when there was nothing there to catch them?

And, why did it take multiple times of this nonsense before stopping?

I was at the sink one afternoon washing dishes when a loud thud hit the window and out of the corner of my eye I saw a grey mass slide down the glass.  My word.

In fact, it took putting that bird feeder on the ground to show them it wasn’t still hanging.  Finally, they stopped.

Before I made too much fun of them, or just racked it up to stupidity, I caught myself.  I’m not much different than them.

They say that the definition of insanity is repeating the same mistakes and expecting different results (likely first quoted from from the book Narcotics Anonymous). This word technically has legal roots describing a person’s mental capacity, but in our modern tongue the definition is also used to reflect how we feel about a situation.

People are creatures of habit.

Most people don’t like change.

That’s why we keep doing the same things hoping for a different result.  We don’t want to have to find another path to the same goal.  Familiar feels safe.  It’s comfortable.  It’s predictable – even if, in reality, we keep hitting the window.

So it’s January 7th today and we’ve ventured into the first week of the new year.  How are the 2013 resolutions coming?  I have a friend who has been a long-time member of the YMCA.  She says that every January, member visits drastically increase.  However, for her and her friends who are faithful all-year long, they call these January members “tourists.” Funny! She’s right!  Inevitably the number of member visits drop off as the year progresses.

We watched the ball drop in NYC on T.V. this year.  Did you notice that as SOON as the celebration was over, the following several television commercials were for weight loss? Coincidence?  I think not.

Whatever the things are that we want to change in our lives, are we doing anything about them?  Finding a new normal regarding health, jobs, relationships, etc. can be frustrating to say the least.  It involves being open to something new and the courage to do it – not just once or twice for a week or month.

Why is establishing a new path so hard?  Arg!

We see the end goal, but there is a part of us that throws a fit when a new idea is introduced as to how to obtain it.  Boy I wish I had the answer.

I’m struggling just like everyone else trying to put on my big girl panties, grow up and realize that my current normal is a fail in some areas.  I don’t want to change.  I want to do what I want to do and still reach the goal.

How childish, but it’s exactly why we can’t seem to make it over the finish line.

So, something must change.  There are many noble reasons for change: obedience to God, commitment to family, the reality of health risks, realizing we are worth the try and so on.  And, our pesky, lifelong dreams that inspire us simply won’t leave us alone.  (sigh)

It would behoove us to take the time to identify what truly needs to change in our lives, then form a plan to achieve it.  Like running a race without a course or driving across the country without a map or GPS, without a plan we simply run or drive in circles…driving us crazy.

Once we commit to a plan, we need to settle on the specs of that plan.

Remember the television show Friends?  I will never forget the episode where George Castanza figures out that if, going forward, he makes every decision based on the OPPOSITE of what he would normally decide, then life would go his way.  Ha!  If only it were that easy!

(Photo credit click here)

Just a week inside the new year and I’ve already been confronted with temptations to hightail it the other way regarding things that need to change in my life.  It’s so tempting to quit the race before I’ve even broken a sweat.

Some of it is control.  I don’t want to give that up.  Some of it is fear.  Do I really trust God in these areas?  Some of it is sheer laziness   I, frankly, just don’t want a new normal even if it means staying this way prolonges the end goal.  Some of it is lack of enthusiasm – especially regarding the changes that will cramp my current style.  Some of it is that I don’t know what to do about what needs to change.

Psalm 37:5-7, Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him…

So in the presence of the Lord I wait, but need to be ready to move when He says move. That takes being intentional and exercising motivation whether I’m feeling it or not.

The word “tomorrow” is quick sand to the heart.  We sink deep in years-worth of tomorrows.  It’s suffocating.  Depressing.  Demotivating.

What does the book of James say about tomorrow?

James 4:13-14, Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow…

This passage speaks to boasting, yes, but it’s not unlike what we do when we talk a big talk about our plans that we know we procrastinate.  It’s like we somehow want credit for just saying the words of what we will do, when we haven’t done a thing toward actually doing them.

Jesus said in Matthew 6:34, Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

The opposite of empty boasting – worrying – can hold us back just as much.  This was true for me yesterday.  Our kitchen needs some long overdue repairs.  In fact, I’ve put this off for 15 years, and 15 years ago it already needed repairs.  There are simply too many decisions to make, too much money to spend, and it all makes my head spin.  Bruce and I had a lengthy conversation with the kitchen cabinet guy.  I told him I couldn’t find a color wood that worked for me.

He looked at me surprised and said, In all of these choices, there isn’t one color you like?

I scrunched up my face and replied, No, sorry.

Come with me, he insisted.

We walked over to the samples and he instructed, See all of these?  Pick out a maybe.  

A maybe?

Yes, a maybe.

I flipped through the same samples over and over and finally looked at him and again said, Nothing appeals to me.

No.  You must pick a maybe.

(Okay, this should be fun, right?  Waiting 15 years to fix some very real issues is not only sound wisdom to protect the investment of our house, but  it should be a happy occasion to finally consider the project.)

Begrudgingly, I flipped through them again and heard my inner child pouting.  He watched in amazement at my lack of decisiveness.

At long last, I picked a…maybe.

We sat back down at his desk as he proceeded to help me with my “color psychology” as I called it.

He said, If you could have any color cabinet in the world, what would it be?

I couldn’t answer.

You have to answer.

Ug. This guy was productively annoying.

Okay, see, what I like I cannot do because it’s too color specific and it wouldn’t be good for resale value and we may very well outgrow it in 5, 10 or 15 years.

Ah ha!  A breakthrough!  Deep down inside, I actually did have a choice hiding in the vortex of my brain.

Bruce and the guy looked at me with astonishment and asked why “years down the road” mattered to me.

I replied, Because I don’t want to have to do this all over again some day.  It’s hard to spend money on this right now with the economy, albeit quite necessary at this point in our kitchen.  I’m afraid. 

The guy looked at me and replied, You can’t think that far down the road.  Who knows what life will look like then.  Based on what you’ve told me, anything will be an improvement to what it is today.  Why worry about what you don’t even know will happen?

He is right.  It’s just kitchen cabinets, but he proves Jesus’ point on the more substantial things of life.

Uncredited boasting and worry sink our feet in tomorrow’s quicksand that inhibits us from making positive changes today.

Asking God for wisdom to see our lives through His perspective, forming a plan of change with His guidance, and exercising courage to take the first step – and keep stepping – is a plan for success.  After all, He knows us better than anyone (Psalm 139) and has a plan for a hope and future for us (Jeremiah 29:11).  And, He loves us.  He is the good Father.

Whether it be something tangible like house decisions, better health or jobs, or the intangibles like relationships or a godly perspective, change can be really good…and change is inevitable.

After all, the only thing that never changes is that everything changes. (Louis L’Amour)

Embracing the idea of change is where we start being productive toward the goal and stop hurting ourselves like those squirrels – chasing after something invisible that ended up adding nothing to their life except pain.

Let the journey begin.

What he said, she said about love

Happy 2013!!

I am so excited to continue this blog into a new year – this is a first!  We have 364 more days to traverse together, God willing.  Before launching forward, I want to share a December moment that I hope will be a blessing to you.  Ironically, this moment of the recent past has become a springboard in my life for a better future.  So perhaps this Christmas post does have a rightful home here today as I pray the same encouragement for you.

This Christmas was our first time using our new advent candles (via a recent post).  I really didn’t know how this would work out, and felt like I was bucking the system making up our own.

Turns out, we have had more meaningful conversation surrounding these candles than any other year ever.  On the 4th Sunday, we lit the 4th candle, the red candle of love.

A

We asked the same question around the table, Anyone have a story of love they’d like to share?  My husband, Bruce, spoke up, I’ve got one.

He continued, looking at our children, Your mom and me.  She’s the only one for me.  Over two decades ago, she accepted me just the way I was – failures, flaws and all.  She was way out of my league.  I am still amazed that she chose to love me, but I’m glad she did.

I listened, then added with a contemplative smile, That’s funny, because I remember it very differently.  I couldn’t believe you wanted me!  I was such a mess.  I was a broken person with a shattered life, who felt very unlovely and unlovable.  You were my knight in shining armor.  You swept me off my feet – especially in your Air Force uniform.

Two people.  Two very different stories about the same love affair.  How could this be?

There was one common denominator that went far beyond our starry-eyed love for each other.  It was God’s love for us – and still is.  He is the God who saw our whole lives, and purposed to intertwine them together.  We have always loved each other, but it is God’s unending love for each of us and for our marriage that is the foundation, the glue, the common ground on which we stand – even if we don’t always see eye-to-eye or momentarily dislike one another.

We read 1 Corinthians 13, known as the love chapter, and we see what we strive to be to one another.  However, when I look at our marriage through God’s eyes, I see His vision for us, as well as where He implements this passage in our relationship.

God is 1 Corinthians 13 to us because God is love (1 John 4:16 ).  Knowing He has our back gives us strength to show love to one another.

God gave up His only Son out of love for the world.  Each December, we begin the reflection of this great sacrifice at Christmas as we walk Jesus’ timeline on this earth.  We do this every year in honor, remembrance, and celebration.

Spouses can have this same love in their marriages as well.  Whether it is as Christmastime, New Year’s, or any of the other 363 days of the year, we can light God’s light of love in our relationships. We do this not in our own strength, but in His.

God is for marriage – the way He intended it to be.  God is for His children who are the husbands and wives that make up the millions of marriages in this world.  It pleases Him to see men and women living in healthy, loving, covenant community with one another.

If you’ve come to a point in your marriage where the light seems all but extinguished, hope is elusive, and warm hearts have turned cold, seek God first.  Ask Him again to be God of your marriage.

He is the tie that binds when we are frayed and frazzled.

I look back at the beginning of “us” and am in awe at how differently Bruce and I saw the beginning of our relationship.  Both broken.  Both flawed.  Both dependent on God alone to guide us by His mighty hand.

We’ve called on that same hand for twenty-two years.  To hold.  To warm.  To lead.  To sustain.  It is strong enough to carry any load.

Because we have been forgiven and set free from our sins, as believers, we have total freedom to love each other as Christ loves the church, even as we still wrestle with our carnal natures.

It will always be a mystery to me that God can take two broken people and create one whole marriage.  I’ve never been good at math, but how does 1 + 1 = 1?

Scrapping the math book (gladly, I might add) I turn to the Bible for the answer.

“Haven’t you read,” (Jesus) replied, “that at the beginning the Creator ‘made them male and female,’ and said, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh’? So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate.” ~ Matthew 19:4-6

I believe with all my heart that one of the main issues tearing marriages apart is that husbands and wives fall into the trap that in an argument, touchy topic, or whatever threatens to divide, there must be a winner and loser.  In a marriage, if there is both a winner and loser, both people lose – and so does the marriage.

We must daily remind ourselves that we are on the same team.  I know.  I’ve been both the winner and the loser and neither position was productive in our relationship.

When we take sides, we divide what God declared as one entity.  This only leads us farther down the wrong path.

As 2013 begins, may I challenge each of us to examine our relationship with God, with our spouses and all of our relationships?  Are we loving others as He loves us?

No matter how wonderful or not our marriages are today, there is a whole year just waiting to happen.  We will ride the highs and feel ran over by the lows.  Today.  Today we must decide what our plan will be.  That begins with God’s plan.

Whether you are married, engaged, or seriously dating, one New Year’s resolution worthy of doing (not just making) is to pray for these relationships, release our control of them, submit to God and His plan, and love as Christ loves us and gave Himself up for us.

Let’s make this year, 2013, the year God has full-reign in our hearts, minds and actions for His glory and our good – and all of this begins at home.

What do our relationships look like from God’s perspective?  Read with me 1 Corinthians 13 as God Himself sets the example for each of us to follow…

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10 but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears.11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. 12 Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

God’s grace, peace and blessings to you this new year,

Kristi

Packing for the New Year

DSC_0831[1]

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven… Ecclesiastes 3:1

The last day of 2012 brings so much to mind – the good, the bad and the ugly.  Packing up our Christmas decorations this week felt a little more like moving than annual trips to the attic.  We had to buy new containers for everything courtesy of the “invasion.”  However, for an OCD packer like myself, I actually enjoyed completley redoing how we organize these things.

While sorting, stuffing and stashing Christmas boxes, my mind drifted to a faraway place.  It was a land where everything I didn’t want to carry into 2013 could be packed up and sent out of sight and daily life just like these seasonal boxes.

I allowed myself to make a dream list of what I would pack including: experiences, conversations, and moments in time that I am weary of replaying in my thoughts and living out in real time.

My foot, for example.  The surgery went as planned, but the recovery did not.  I step into 2013 with prolonged pain due to issues that have been confirmed as maybe they will heal or maybe they won’t.  My 8-week recovery plan foiled, my heart discouraged.

I won’t burden this post with everything I’d love to leave in the archives of 2012. On one hand it was a bit of a bummer to recall the low lights of the year, if only to myself as I packed stockings and ornaments.  However, on the other hand, it was cathartic to, for one last time this year, acknowledge those less-than-stellar times, but now take the reigns to decide what to do with them.

Will I allow these moments to travel with me into 2013 or will I proverbially pack them away to keep them in their place in 2012?

It depends on each individual moment, and it was really good for me to think about them, contemplate their place and seek God’s wisdom to know what to do with them.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean  not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your path. – Proverbs 3:5-6

For some things, I don’t have a choice but to pack them in my luggage for the new year. They are a part of life that I can’t control.  But for others, I said goodbye to the pain and negativity that loomed over me like a dark storm cloud.  Those things are best to stay in 2012, but the lessons I learned from them will carry me on the journey.

I have compartmentalized my mental boxes, labeled them, and tucked away what is unnecessary to fill my heart, mind and arms with for the coming year’s journey.

Deciding which should come with me and which should stay behind is tricky.  I am reminded of the familiar prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr that I saw on a bracelet in a store just this week…

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change the things I can,

And the wisdom to know the difference.

serenity bracelet

Each of us stand at a crossroad tonight.  The ball will drop, confetti will fly, and the New Year will come, Lord willing.  What kind of year will this be for you and me?  We may not know, or be able to control, what will happen, but we can control our responses to them.  We need God’s guidance to do this with grace, godly confidence, and humility.

One of my go-to verses for direction in life is…

Jeremiah 6:16, This is what the LORD says: “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls…”

I don’t make a habit of promising new year resolutions, rather I am resolute in seeking God more in 2013. Where He goes, I want to follow – no questions asked.  When He calls me to task, I want to do it with all my heart and with no complaining.  I want to trust Him more deeply, recognize my sin more quickly, and go deeper in being content to simply be in His presence, actions and words optional.  I want to seek His guidance before leaning on my own opinions; rely on His strength instead of my own, and adopt His heart for this world that He so loves.

The serenity prayer became a bit of a cliche to me over the years, but tonight I embrace its wisdom with fresh faith and a hopeful heart.

No one knows what 2013 will bring.  The highs, lows and in between.  What I do know without a doubt is that with God all things are possible for those who believe (Mark 9:23), and His grace is sufficient to meet all of our needs (2 Corinthians 12:9).

A New Year blessing for each of us tonight and in the year to come…

Numbers 6:24-26,

“The LORD bless you and keep you;

the LORD make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you;

the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace.”

May we know we are loved by the Creator and share His love with creation.  May we forgive others with the same pardon we have been granted.  May we take the time to laugh, feel, and embrace the curiosity of life.  May we stand our ground in the battles worth fighting and have peace & courage to walk away from the ones that aren’t.  May every blessing from our good Father be fully appreciated.  May your smiles outnumber your sorrows, your moments outweigh your minutes, and may love conquer all.

Happy New Year!  Be wise.  Be safe.  Enjoy!

Kristi