Category Archives: Community

Hands That Hold

Photo via case.edu

I saw a familiar sight as I walked out of the grocery store.  A dad and his daughter, no more than three years old, simply talking while walking to their car with groceries in hand. However, just as I glanced over, she began to pitch a monumental fit!  Arms flailing, crying, screaming-she threw herself on the ground.

My very first thought was, Boy am I glad my kids are past that stage!  Ha!

I was curious as to how the dad would respond.  With a bag of groceries in his left hand, he reached down with his right arm and picked his daughter up and carried her, barrel-style, all the way to the car.  I was memorized at how calm, cool and collected he was.  He didn’t lash out or yell or anything.  He also knew better than to try to reason with a three year-old in this state. He simply picked her up and walked on with her under his arm as she continued to fuss and flail.

My second thought was, Wow, that dad is amazing!  He didn’t even flinch.  

God spoke to me and said, Look familiar?

Yes, indeed, I snickered.  I remember those days with my kids like it was yesterday.

I’m not talking about your kids.  I’m talking about you, He whispered.

Oh my!  He was right.  There have been times in my life when God needed to intervene for my good even when I disagreed.  No discussion.  No reasoning.  Just action on His part in response to mine.  Whether I am overwhelmed with emotion, or so busy I can’t clearly think things through, God never gets flustered.  He is the same yesterday, today and forever (Hebrews 13:8).

Would it have been okay for that dad to have driven off in frustration and left his toddler in the parking lot?  Would it have been okay to let her have her way and stay lying on the ground in the middle of the road with cars coming and going?  Would he have really had been able to articulate all the reasons why she needed to get up and move to safety?  Not in that moment. This dad acted in her best interest even though she didn’t understand or agree with his response.

I am so thankful that God does the same for us.  He sees the bigger picture and understands situations far better than we do.  When circumstances arise that we fall apart over, God is still on His throne and is able to make decisions based on what’s best for us-even if we’re throwing a fit on the inside.  Even if it means He must proverbially pick us up and remove us from the situation whether we think we know what we want or not and regardless if we think we know what’s best for us at the moment.

His hands are strong.  His heart is loving.  His mind is omnipotent.  Even when we falter and lose our senses, He is still in control.  There is a time for everything.  A time to discipline.  A time to discuss.  And a time to simply act on our behalf.

Below are some photos I’ve taken that remind me of His hands, His wisdom and His love for us. May we be able to walk obediently with God today.  And if not, may He know when we need to be picked up and carried.

The LORD answered Job… and said, “Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness, when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place, when I said, ‘This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt’?  Job 38: 1, 8-11

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?  Matthew 6:26

…See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?  Matthew 6:28-30

(Creation You have made) all looks to you to give them their food at the proper time.  When you give it to them, they gather it up; when you open your hand, they are satisfied with good things. Psalm 104:27-28

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Psalm 19:1

<<Check out the companion song to this post on my Tunes page!>>

Prettier Ribbons

Photo via Maxmedals.com

Yesterday, my kids and I walked past a store front that boasted contestants’ winning art from a statewide contest.  The handcrafted works were impressive.  So were the brightly colored, shiny ribbons that hung from them.

Ironically, this was the same contest my tween son entered via a different organization.  He won several ribbons of his own for his work. (Mom blushes) However, as we gazed at the artwork, he said with disappointment, Those are prettier ribbons than mine.  It made me double-take a glance at the ribbons, bewildered as to what he saw that was so special in them.

My young tween competed against kids from all over the state up to 12th grade.  It was a super great day for him because he worked so hard on his projects.  And, if I may add, they were done without an iota of parent help (except with the electric saw that he’s not allowed to use).

However, after admiring these ribbons, his bubble of excitement and enthusiasm over his own ribbons popped because of how he compared these to his own.  There wasn’t anything I could say.  His ribbons now seemed inferior.

His reaction really made me stop and think about how I respond to life’s ribbons.  You know, people’s accolades, winks of approval, and (for some) tangible awards like bonuses, trophies and certificates.  Oh, and pretty ribbons.

We can work ourselves to the bone, and feel really good about what we’ve accomplished, but all of our sense of self-worth tanks with a casual shrug, a word of mediocracy, a glance of semi-approval, or worse – no comment at all! – by an objective onlooker who gives great praise to another for their work.

It is one thing to be an active part of community, and therefore give our best effort to the task. It’s another thing to place our value, self-esteem, significance, and entire sense of accomplishment in comparison to others’ accolades.

The day my son received his awards, he was humbly overjoyed!  I took a photograph of him with the ribbons hung from his ears and fingers so we could get them all in the shot.  Now, his seem tarnished, less significant, to him.

It makes me wonder, whose approval do we seek?  Others’, ourselves’, or God’s?  God is pretty clear about how He feels on the subject of hard work.

And whatever you do,whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Colossians 3:17

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men…Colossians 3:23

Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ. Galatians 1:10 (The Apostle Paul)

As someone who struggles with her self-esteem, I must fight against finding my validation in anyone but Christ.  He is my audience of One in my heart, but my head doesn’t always reflect this truth.  I compare myself to others.  Wow, she’s accomplished.  Look at her career!  Or, She always has it together, I wish I could be like her.  Or how about, If I only looked like this woman, was as articulate as this other woman, and was as smart as this other woman, I’d be the total package. Then there is the whisper in my mind, If only I could do my job like her, and be noticed by them, then I will have finally made it!

What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? Mark 8:36

Whose standard am I measuring myself against?  Is God looking down at me and constantly thinking these same inferior thoughts about me?  I think not!  He created all of us differently, for unique purposes on this earth.  If He says we are doing a good job, a great job!,  then that should be enough – no matter how shiny the other person’s ribbons may seem.  When we’ve done something we know He asked us to do – be it a good, honest day’s work or something extraordinary in our daily grind – it should be enough to hear His words, Well done, good and faithful servant.  It is… more than enough.

Today, I’m putting blinders over my heart when I see other people’s pretty ribbons.  I’ll congratulate them on a great job, but I will remind myself that was their job – not mine – good for them.  For me, I will seek only the smile on my Master’s face as my greatest reward. Anything else attained is all glory to Him. Ribbons or no ribbons, prettiest or not, I will sleep well at night knowing I did my best.  It’s all we’ve ever asked of our children, and it’s all God has asked of me, too.

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.  But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6:19-21


The Unexpected Gift

Photo via Droid Wallpapers

I had the privilege of celebrating my son’s 16th birthday this weekend.  Little did we know, this day would change his life forever.

It was a very full day of several events, one of which was my daughter’s soccer game.  My husband and I drove separately with plans to meet at the field.  I had our boys with me.  As we drove to the game, my birthday boy talked on the cell phone to his nana as I approached a busy intersection.  Turning right at the light, we saw a homeless gentleman standing on the corner holding a sign and asking for food.

There was nothing I could do because of the traffic flow.  We were already 20 minutes late to the game, and I wasn’t quite sure where I was even going as this was the first time they’ve played at this field.  Add to that, the concrete medians and turn lanes and lights, and well, this was not something I could easily navigate on the fly.

However, we have gift bags in our van for just such an occasion as running into a person who is homeless.  We keep a laundry basket in the back of the van filled with brightly colored, glossy gift bags with lots of colorful curly ribbon tied to the handle and tissue paper bursting out from the bag.  In the bags, we put soup, water, granola bars, etc. along with encouraging Scripture and a prayer of salvation.  The reason we dress everything up in a gift bag is because we wonder just how long it may have been that someone in this desperate state has received a present.  It has been a joy to hand these out and connect with our community, as well as have deep conversations with our children about our responsibility as believers to help others by being the hands and feet of Christ.

Knowing these bags were in the back made me feel quite guilty that the spontaneity of the moment did not lend itself to give this gentleman one.  My birthday boy finished his phone call with Nana, then began to tell me how we needed to go back to the man.

I was torn between arriving even later at my daughter’s last game before tournament and delivering the gift bag.  I was tired from a very busy week and, well, I came to the end of myself.

I told my son, Tell you what, we’ll drive back the same way after the game and look for him.

My son replied, But we don’t know how long he’s been there.  Maybe a long time.  We should go back now.

Disheartened by my inability to be both places at once, I promised we’d go after the game.  We reached the field, but my son couldn’t let it go.  He is an extremely easy-to-please kind of guy who rarely has strong preferences.  He goes with the flow and has quite a relaxed personality.  But this time, he was insistent.

We really have to go back, Mom, he persisted.  I can’t let this go.

I was a bit baffled at his insistence because we’ve given out many bags and will continue to.  I didn’t understand what was different with my son this time.  We walked down the field, set up our chairs next to my husband’s, and I plopped myself down hoping to stave off a migraine, caused by an impending weather front, that I felt coming on.

Can we leave and come back? he asked.  It won’t take long.  I know I’m supposed to do this.

I’m happy to try look for him on our way home, Honey.  The game won’t be much longer, I replied nursing my headache.

A few moments passed as we watched the game, then he asked again.  Can we go at halftime?

This was really unlike him.  Typically, he is the first to let something go.  A peaceful life is more important to him than pushing his issue.

How about you ask your dad to take you at halftime? I proposed.  My migraine was at the crossroads of either going away or blowing up to epic proportions.

The halftime whistle blew, and my husband and son bolted to the van.  I have no earthly idea why I said this (referring to the gift bags), but before they left, out of my mouth spilled, Why not take two?  I didn’t know if he decided to or not as they drove away.

The second half of the game began, and eventually my husband and son reappeared.  I asked my son, Was he still there?  Did you give him the bag?

Yes and no, he answered.  That made no sense to me.  The situation was either or, so I inquired.

This is what they told me…they drove back to the large intersection, but didn’t see the gentleman.  Disappointed, they crossed the intersection to make a u-turn and return to the game.  Just then, my husband saw the man at a city bus stop out of the corner of his eye.  My two guys devised a plan and as quickly as possible they made the u-turn in hopes of catching up to the man.  As they approached the bus, the man got onto the bus and it drove off.

Arg!  What were they going to do?  They weren’t sure, but they knew they couldn’t give up.  In a split-second decision, they followed the bus many blocks as it bypassed the next five stops.  At the sixth stop, the bus finally stopped.  Our son jumped out of our van and ran toward the bus. A businessman stepped off of the bus, saw my son, and told the bus driver someone was coming and to please wait for him.  She held the bus for my son, and he jumped aboard and asked the bus driver, Can you please wait a second?

He said she looked stunned and confused, but agreed.  Our son walked the aisle of the bus toward the back where the man was sitting.  He approached the man and held out his hand to him and introduced himself with a firm handshake and a big smile.

What did you say? I asked with eager anticipation on the field during the 3rd quarter.

Our son continued, I told him that we saw him earlier, but couldn’t turn around.  That Jesus loved him and wanted him to know that.  Then I gave him the gift bag.  

Okay, hold on a second, I interrupted.  You mean you guys followed the bus several blocks, and you jumped out of our van, ran to the bus, hopped onto the bus and asked the bus driver to hold her schedule and wait for you?  Really? I said with sheer astonishment.  Our son has never done anything this bold before.

What did the man say? What did he do? I asked.

Well, after shaking my hand, he sat there for several seconds – speechless.  He had a blank stare on his face as if in disbelief.  Then, I gave him the bag and his eyes grew huge!  He couldn’t believe it was for him.  He said, “Thanks so much.  I appreciate it.”  Mom, this man shared a seat with his fellow homeless friend.  And…I had two bags.  The other man looked at me kindly and said, “Thank you.” 

My son sat next to me at the game completely sure that this task was the prompting of the Holy Spirit.  We talked about what it felt like to be the hands and feet of Christ, literally.

We knew in our hearts that God had an agenda on this particular day.  He knew this man’s timeline and had a divine appointment with him.  If my husband and son had not ran to the van, or they caught a red light, or simply weren’t looking in the precise direction of the bus, they would have missed him for sure.  It was an almost near-miss, but it wasn’t.  This mission impossible was perfectly executed with a team of players from our little family, to my daughter’s soccer game that was at this time and in this first-ever location, to the clerk who checked out the gift items at the store, to the business man who called out to hold the bus, to the bus driver who let my son hop on momentarily, to the other cars who drove around my husband’s van as he waited on the road behind the bus.  Do you see how extraordinary this ordinary moment was?  The people. The timing.  The whole thing was beyond coincidence.  It was as though it had been rehearsed a million times – yet none of us knew it.  God did.

For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost. Luke 19:10

This was no not about my guys, rather what God had on His mind that afternoon.  Even more than receiving the gift bag, this man needed to see God pursue him.  Think about how it would’ve felt for the man to be sitting on the corner holding a sign for food for who knows how long, then ride the bus for several blocks when a teenage stranger jumps on with a colorful, shiny bag and says that he saw him earlier and had this gift for him so they chased the bus down.  I would have been speechless, too!

There was a duel purpose in God’s will that day.  Things could have played out like the other times when we’ve sat at a red light and simply made the acquaintance of someone who needs food and we’ve given them the bag.  No.  Not this time.  God radically pursued this gentleman in a very personal way.

For this is what the Sovereign Lord says: I myself will search for my sheep and look after them. Ezekiel 34:11

We don’t know if this man has ever accepted Christ as his personal Savior, but truly he was sought by God because God allowed everything to work out to the very second.  Whether his soul was lost, or perhaps he just felt lost in society-displaced by circumstance-or lonely. Perhaps he felt lost within himself or separated from family. We don’t know this man’s story, but God moved heaven and earth to be a part of it. 

We may be utterly lost in our lives, in ourselves, and feel completely alone, but we are not.  We are never out of arm’s reach of God who made us, breathed life into us, and sent His Son as the final blood sacrifice for us.  No other god has ever done that.  God’s love is relentless, radical, unconditional and unstoppable.  The choice is ours to accept it.

(The prodigal son said) ‘I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men.’  So he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. For this son of mine was dead and is alive again;he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate. Luke 15:20-24

The biggest part for my husband, who couldn’t get through the story without choking back tears was, as he said, Two bags.  Not three, not one, not four…two.  No one could have ever known this man would have a friend with him in the same dire straits.  But God did.  For our son, he summed it up best when he told us, “Being a small part of this incredible moment was the best birthday present I received.”

<<Check out the companion song to this post on my Tunes page!>>

Happy Mother’s Day!

For all of you wonderul, amazing, selfless, tender, sacrificing, funny, hard-working & soft-loving mothers and mentors of all generations…

Here are flowers for YOU!

My youngest son painted them, and I am sharing them with the WORLD’S GREATEST MOMS!

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Enjoy your Selah!

~ Kristi

The Cure for a Mid-Life Crisis

Photo via Pinterest

I dreaded turning 40 my entire life.  That number always seemed like a lifetime away! Well, it came knocking on my door, and I have to say I didn’t handle it very well.  Okay, I freaked out.  I tried to hide it on the outside, but on the inside things changed.  Wow, I never thought I’d be a cliché, but so much of what people say about turning 40 is true!

I began to look back on my life – the good, bad and the ugly.  I spent quiet time alone reflecting on the way things were and they way things are now.  I noticed physical changes (oh joy!) as well as a shift in my attitude – for the good, I think.  I became less concerned with what people think of me.  I’m not motivated by people’s approval nearly as much as I used to be.  I began standing up for myself.  I realized that I cannot be everything to everyone all the time…and that’s okay.  I’m a lot more relaxed because I see things from a different perspective – hopefully a little wiser than before.

After pondering the past, I turned my focus to the future and joke that I’ve got one foot in the grave.  Well, based on statistics I do!  This weird sense of, I have to do all the things I’ve ever wanted to because, tick tock, time’s a wastin’!, crept into my thinking.  I felt a surge of self-imposed pressure to fulfill dreams and finally write and complete my bucket list right now.

At the same time, my husband is a few years older than me, and he has been swept in the undertow of being the primary provider for our family for so long he just doesn’t know any different.  He likes his position in life, though he stays continually tired.

He was a bit numb to a mid-life crisis because that takes extra time and energy he doesn’t have. On the contrary, some strange alarm went off inside me and I felt like a racehorse just waiting for the life’s gate to spring open.

What was I do to with myself?  I had a bad case of mid-life crisis!  What in the world is the remedy?  We’re not “stuffy” people so buying stuff isn’t going to fix it.  I’m not going to do anything foolish as the cliché goes.  But where would I be able to put all of this electrified energy and sense of urgency to do something completely out of my norm?

Enter…a mission trip to Africa.

I never saw that coming!  Who knew God had been working behind the scenes for many months to prepare our family’s hearts to go on mission.  We were as surprised as the friends and family we told.  But, we could not deny that this was exactly what God was sitting on us to do.  So we did.

Let me just say that when I look back on who I was pre-Africa, and in full-blown mid-life crisis mode, was utterly resolved in 2 weeks.  Just by reading the above of what I was feeling, it was all so self-centered!  A mid-life crisis usually is.  After all, it’s all about us.

There is nothing wrong with wanting a change in one’s life.  No one can blame someone for wanting shake up the norm a bit or fulfill a life dream.  But, the entire difference rode on the fact that a mission trip is designed for us to serve – not be served.

If we are to live like Christ, we must think like Him.  Matthew 20:28, “…the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

I was standing at a crossroads in life and was tempted to make the second half of my life all about me and my time and what I wanted to do.  My human nature was screaming its demands!  But, then we stepped onto the plane bound for Kenya.  I left my home, family and friends behind.  I also left part of myself.  I stepped off the plane in Kenya and, from that moment on, everything changed.  Not just for me, but for my husband, too.

For two weeks I watched my man of 22 years be on the verge of laughing or crying 24/7.  A part of him awakened – the part that craves life.  He rediscovered a passion for being part of something larger than himself.  A passion for helping others, sharing Jesus’ love, and living life to the fullest.  He also emerged an entirely new husband and father.  We all liked the former one, but this one has zeal for godly leadership in all ways of daily living.  Even his physical countenance changed.  I could not stop staring at him the entire trip, because I watched him morph from tired to totally alive.

I shook off my mid-life pity party over everything I haven’t been able to do, and saw, without blinders, this great big world God holds in His hands and the possibilities it possesses.  I fell in love with the Kenyan people and created bonds with our American team that will last a lifetime. Where my previous focus began to shift on myself, God used this mission trip to gently turn my face back toward His Kingdom work and toward the life that is waiting for me after this one passes.  I have always loved people and diversity, but serving on mission exploded in me a passion for others.  I LOVED serving, helping and assisting the Kenyan folk and our team.  Although I had no idea what I was doing, I was willing to do whatever was needed and we made memories that will carry me the rest of my life.  On the flip side, my heart utterly broke over the poverty Kenyans endure every single day.

Serving on mission was not something we sought out so much as it was what God called us to. God calls all believers to serve in some capacity, and we should all be seeking opportunities.  This was a huge lesson I learned.  It is the most humbling work I’ve ever done.  We serve locally as well, and that is also needed, but there is something very different about  leaving all of our creature comforts, language, culture, everything we understand as our normal, and go somewhere we don’t fit in, yet are so warmly welcomed by those waiting to greet us to work together for a common good – God’s will.  It is a truly unique experience that simply cannot be replicated at home.

A vacation trip of a lifetime is an incredible experience, and there is nothing wrong with that. We’d all love to take one!  But, I saw how vastly different vacations are from mission trips.  I’ve never been so tired, so drained, so energized, so alive – all at the same time – in all my life.  Our trip had purpose and meaning.  The work we began will long outlast the memory of us being there.  I like to watch the Travel Channel with Samantha Brown, Anthony Bourdain and Andrew Zimmern.  I’ve learned a lot as an armchair traveler about the difference between simply being a tourist and immersing oneself in a different culture and experiencing it from the inside out.  I’ll take immersion any day.

We are gearing up for our next mission trip this summer, and I can hardly wait to get started.  I left a piece of my heart in Kenya and will again on this trip I am sure.  When we look at the world through God’s eyes, and see His unconditional, relentless love for it, we must simply be a part of what He is doing no matter where or when.  There are so many bad things happening in the world right now.  But, traveling with God on mission allowed me to see there is a whole lot of good being done as well.

I may have left part of my heart on mission, but I brought back hope, empathy and an intense desire to serve those who need a helping hand. It’s how Christ lived.  He commands believers to do the same.

(Jesus) said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation.” 

~ Mark 16:15

My only regret is that we waited so long to go.  If I could rewind time…but I can’t.  However, serving on mission is something I really look forward to doing as long as I am physically able, and that gets me really excited about the next half of my life.

<<Check out a great book recommendation on my Books page!>>

Torn in two

He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. ~ Micah 6:8

I was picking up the house recently when something stopped me dead in my tracks.  Literally, I took one step forward and froze.  Looking down at our coffee table, I saw some mailers that have sat for over a week.  Each one was complimentary and was delivered to my home – ironically arriving within a day of each other.  When they arrived, I placed them on my coffee table like I do with current mailers and never gave it another thought.

This time, my heart skipped a beat as I gazed, with fresh eyes, at the dichotomy of these things. See for yourself…

Do you see what I see?  Contradiction.  Two worlds clashing.

Both of those reflect me, and I am frustrated!  On one hand, my heart is passionate for all people and want no one to suffer.  I want everyone to know the love of Jesus and have all of their needs met; for everyone to realize their goals and dreams; and for peace and provisions worldwide.

On the other hand, I get stuck in what I know as normal.  I like Restoration Hardware (though I can’t afford most of what they sell).  I like their style, ideas, and clean lines.  It’s not just Restoration Hardware, but this is the mailer that happened to be sent at the same time as PrayerPoint.  I’m not picking on it, but I am confused with where it all stands with me.

I think I’ve spent my life like most people in America.  I have not been blind to the world around me, but honestly, it didn’t directly affect my daily 24/7.  The needs and injustices of this world have always made me want to help, and we do what we can, but within the longitutde and latitude of my life in America, there is a whole different normal.

I’m not saying there is not hardship and suffering here. There is. But, comparatively, we do not live in a war-torn land; we have freedom of speech & religion; we have basic things like paved roads, clean water and electricity;  we have sanitation systems that keep infection and disease down; we have laws (albeit not perfect!) against child labor, for safe working conditions, to monitor sanitation levels in restaurants, hospitals, etc.; truancy laws to keep kids in school; laws against child abuse, parent abuse and spousal abuse; and we have legal rights in the justice system.  Take away the tangible things and America is still, by far, a very rich place in which to live.

Most people in the world have far fewer rights and protections and live on $1 or less per day.  26,000 people, including children, die every day from preventable diseases and illnesses.  The rate of human trafficking, starvation, drought and political conflict is mind-boggling.  Does it affect where my kids go to school?  Where I buy my groceries? Where I go to church? I must admit, for many years I kept the two dichotomies separated.  We help locally and globally, but my daily grind did not know the physical hardships of most people in the world.

In the last few years, however, God has awoken me from a hazy sleep.  He broadened my narrow vision in a whole new way.  With the organizations we volunteer for, God has given us more work and responsibilities.  With our church, God has given us more opportunities to serve.

It’s a whole different story to know orphans that I call by name and pray for every day.  Whose faces are on the walls of my daughter’s bedroom and who are smiling at me every time I close my eyes wondering how they are doing in Kenya.  Children we’ve met, played with and held.  Teens who have dreams and hopes and goals, but little to no help to achieve them.

No one is less important than anyone else, but “here” and “there” have felt light years apart for years.

I’ve always been a huge advocate for water conservation because I grew up in an area where there was a constant threat of drought.  I try to do my part by taking very short showers; turning off the water when brushing my teeth; dumping boiled vegetable water on my outdoor potted plants; watering indoor plants with leftover cups of water; using large shade trees to cool the grass instead of a sprinkler system; and using water-saving car washes (only when truly needed) versus the hose water running down the gutter.  Very little water goes to waste in our house.  Even still, I feel so guilty for using any of it because I saw the miles people walk, barefoot and carrying plastic jugs, to fetch their daily water supply.  The water I wash my dishes with is far cleaner than the only water many people have to drink.

And, we have a house.  It’s not the biggest, it’s not the smallest.  We do, however, use every square inch of it – none of it wasted space.  One could look at the daily messes in it to know that it is true!  But, how many people in the world have a house?  Not many.   Every night when we say prayers with the kids, we thank God for a bed to sleep in and a roof over our heads.  But, we also pray for those who don’t have such luxuries.

That’s my point.  Why do some people call them luxuries and some call it a normal standard of living?  It’s all what we’re used to.

My life has been used to one way of living.  My heart has always known better.  As I experience more of this planet, the gap between the two dichotomies is only growing wider and it’s tearing me in two.

How do I enjoy things like flipping through a Restoration Hardware catalog and dreaming of the what-ifs, while I know children are dying because they don’t have simple vaccines or enough food to survive?

How do I serve those who need help, but still be thankful for what God has blessed me with like a full belly, shoes on my feet, and a home with doors to lock and a van to drive?

I can’t figure this out.  Part of me wants to sell everything and move to a faraway land.  Part of me feels called to stay put and continue the ministries that we do stateside that help people all over the world because of the resources we have here.

The summer before God called our family to short-term mission, we put a pool in the backyard of our home that we’ve lived in for 15 years.  It’s not a huge pool, but it fits the size of our motley crew.  We saved for a very, very long time and made sacrifices in other areas to make it happen.  It has been a great tool to strengthen our family time, and we love to have extended family and friends over to enjoy it with us.   But, the next summer we surprisingly found ourselves in Africa, and this summer we are preparing for another mission to a different part of the world, and my husband and I wonder if we did the right thing with the pool.  We are deeply thankful God allowed us to save the money to do it, but I also now know a lot better now how far that money could go to help people simply survive.  If we had the same choice to make all over again, would we build it?  And is this a contradiction to my water conservation awareness?

Ug.

I may never find a balance within my heart with these two parts of me.  The world itself is not balanced.  It does bother me, however, to not even notice the two vastly different mailers sitting right next to each other on my coffee table as if they were equal reading.  They are not.

One thing I can do is this:

  • Continue to teach my children the difference between need and want (Matthew 6: 25-33)
  • Teach them the value of serving others (Matthew 20:26-28)
  • Teach them to consider others more highly than they consider themselves (Philippians 2:3)
  • Teach them not to be afraid of hard work (2 Thessalonians 3:7-12)
  • Teach them to be grateful for what they have, not to have too much of it, and be willing to share it (Philippians 3:12-13; Acts 2:44-45)
  • Teach them the value of money and its proper place in our lives (1 Timothy 6:6-10)
  • Teach them to tithe (Leviticus 27:30; Matthew 22:21)
  • Teach them to work as unto the Lord and not for the glory of people or ourselves (Ephesians 6:7-8; Colossians 3:23-24)
  • Talk with them about ways they can use their gifts and talents to make a difference in this world (Ephesians 2:10)
  • Talk with them about what lasts in this world – and what doesn’t (Matthew 6:19-21)
  • Talk with them about love and who deserves our whole heart (Deuteronomy 6:5)
  • Encourage them to always look for good to do…and do it (1 Timothy 6:18)
  • Example all of this in my own life first.

Children truly imitate their parents – for better or worse.  If we want to play a role in helping this world survive for generations to come, change needs to begin with us.

Decades ago, my mom clipped a poem by Charles Kingsley and pinned it to our kitchen corkboard.  This little piece of paper is one of the only (and most beloved) treasures I have left from losing everything in catastrophic loss when I was a teen.  Below is a scan of the original.

Every time I try to wrap my head around the dichotomy of my world and the world, I end up with more questions than answers.  Returning from Africa, I feel like I have no home.  Like I told a friend, I’m not comfortable living in this society because we have so much, but I’m not sure I could handle living there with its unrelenting hardships.

I feel like I don’t fit in anywhere.

I think that’s exactly where God wants our hearts.  As Christians, we are citizens of another world.  A world our eyes cannot see, but one our hearts are drawn to.  This isn’t where we belong.  It shouldn’t be comfortable.  Pardon the double negative, but it shouldn’t be a place that we wouldn’t want to leave if the Lord called us home.

John 18:36 – Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place.” 

Philippians 3:20-21 –  But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.

1 Peter 2:11 – Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul.

I can relate as someone who finds herself a nomad at heart, a stranger passing through this life.

God wants us to enjoy His gift of life, to enjoy the tangible and intangible blessings of life, and be thankful for what He has given us (not which was attained by selfish desire).  But, He never meant for us to keep it all to ourselves.  I’m not only referring to money and physical resources, He also wants us to share our time, talents and energy; our love, friendship and humor; everything that makes us unique that He inspired in us for His purposes.  Most of all, He wants us to share the good news of salvation in Jesus Christ, the free gift of eternal life that the world cannot take away.

As the world economy and our American economy both feel the tremble of emerging fault lines beneath our feet, serious thought and prayer need to play a major part in how we spend every dollar and donate every hour of our time & resources.  Time is short.  Life is precious.  God help us.

The Call

Psalm 34:6 – This poor man called, and the LORD heard him; he saved him out of all his troubles.

This month marks the two year anniversary of one of the most shocking experiences in my life.  It is the month we almost lost our son in a freak accident during school.

I’ll never forget it.  I was on my way home with my other two children when my cell phone rang.  Isn’t it odd how our instincts know when the call is bad?  Wary, I answered.  It was our son’s teacher.  He told me that there had been an accident during P.E. and our son needed stitches.

Okay, I’ll be right there, I replied.

I changed the direction of the van and immediately drove to school.  Upon arrival, I was startled to see his head wrapped in gauze because  I didn’t understand what had happened at that point – only that I needed to take him to the hospital.  I called my husband and got his voice mail.  We have a system of calling to identitfy an emergency, but up to that point we never had to use it.  This was not a false alarm.

He called me back and said, You used our emergency system, is everything okay?

No, I answered.  There’s been an accident.  Meet us at the hospital.

He abruptly ended his conference call, left work and met us at the hospital.  The doctor removed the school’s bandages, and we all got a first look at the injury.  My knees grew weak.

There was a very large, gaping hole in my son’s face.  We could see all the way up and deep into his tissue.  What in the world?

My son suffered an impalement, and it nearly cost him his life.  Any other trajectory of the object, and it could have easily resulted in a permanent  impairment or fatality.  He could have easily loss his sight, his hearing, his nose or his teeth.  Worse, it could have killed him.  Oh, when I think back to it my stomach turns.

Miraculously, after weeks of pain, the only visible reminder left is a large scar.  He was literally millimeters from death, and God spared his life.  He made a full recovery – all praise and glory to our Lord!

Times like these remind us of how precious life is, and how easy it is to lose it. We are also reminded that God has a plan, and even though we live in a fallen, sinful, hurting world, God is above all and He can make something good come from something bad.  For our son, he was very grateful for the show of care and concern by classmates he thought didn’t care at all about him.  He was humbled by the love shown by family and friends.  Our son saw firsthand the power of God and intervention in his life.  He has used his story many times to give witness to the saving power of God.  He allowed God to work in his life, and this incident made him stronger in his faith and in his daily life.

When bad things rock our world, we become stronger or weaker.  Bitter or forgiving.  Soft-spirited or hard-hearted.  It’s our choice.  For our family, we know and rest in the assurance that God sees all, knows all, and nothing can happen that has not passed through the hands of our Father. God doesn’t create bad.  He is the Author of good.  So many times in this world, God gets dubbed the bad guy. God is good.  God is holy.  God is loving.  He cannot be both bad and good at the same time.  However, He does allow bad things to happen – but not without a redemptive plan.  The Garden of Eden was the only perfect paradise on earth, and we simply don’t live in that world anymore.  However, God can radically work in our lives – for our good – if we let Him.

Do we understand why bad things happen?  No.  I don’t have answers, explanations, or justifications.  I only know that God can bring good out of bad and can spare us hard hearts if we allow ourselves to be pliable in His hands.

I don’t take this persepctive because we had a happy ending.  If you’ve read my other blogs, you’ve seen that there have been many times in my life that did not result in a happy ending this side of Heaven. This doesn’t mean I can’t find joy in my every day.  Sometimes what happens in life isn’t our choice.  But, how we respond is our choice.  I encourage you to seek God and ask Him to work in your life and show you the glory of His redemptive power.

If you are also thankful today for a near miss, a sparing of life, for a loved one or yourself, celebrate with me with the verses below.

Daniel 3:13 – Furious with rage, Nebuchadnezzar summoned Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. So these men were brought before the king…16 Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego replied to the king, “O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. 17 If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. 18But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”

The king’s command was so urgent and the furnace so hot that the flames of the fire killed the soldiers who took up Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, 23and these three men, firmly tied, fell into the blazing furnace. 24 Then King Nebuchadnezzar leaped to his feet in amazement and asked his advisers, “Weren’t there three men that we tied up and threw into the fire?” They replied, “Certainly, O king.” 25 He said, “Look! I see four men walking around in the fire, unbound and unharmed, and the fourth looks like a son of the gods.” 26 Nebuchadnezzar then approached the opening of the blazing furnace and shouted, “Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out! Come here!” So Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego came out of the fire, 27 and the satraps, prefects, governors and royal advisers crowded around them. They saw that the fire had not harmed their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed; their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them. 28 Then Nebuchadnezzar said, “Praise be to the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, who has sent his angel and rescued his servants! They trusted in him and defied the king’s command and were willing to give up their lives rather than serve or worship any god except their own God.

 Exodus 14:10-14, 26-29 – As Pharaoh approached, the Israelites looked up, and there were the Egyptians, marching after them. They were terrified and cried out to the LORD. 11 They said to Moses, “Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die? What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt? 12 Didn’t we say to you in Egypt, ‘Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians’? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!” 13 Moses answered the people, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. 14The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.” 26 Then the LORD said to Moses, “Stretch out your hand over the sea so that the waters may flow back over the Egyptians and their chariots and horsemen.” 27 Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and at daybreak the sea went back to its place. The Egyptians were fleeing toward it, and the LORD swept them into the sea. 28 The water flowed back and covered the chariots and horsemen—the entire army of Pharaoh that had followed the Israelites into the sea. Not one of them survived.  29 But the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left.

Acts 16: 22-23, 26-30 – The crowd joined in the attack against Paul and Silas, and the magistrates ordered them to be stripped and beaten. 23 After they had been severely flogged, they were thrown into prison, and the jailer was commanded to guard them carefully.26 Suddenly there was such a violent earthquake that the foundations of the prison were shaken. At once all the prison doors flew open, and everybody’s chains came loose. 27 The jailer woke up, and when he saw the prison doors open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself because he thought the prisoners had escaped. 28But Paul shouted, “Don’t harm yourself! We are all here!” 29 The jailer called for lights, rushed in and fell trembling before Paul and Silas. 30 He then brought them out and asked, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”

 Acts 28:1-5 (After the northeaster storm and shipwreck) – Once safely on shore, we found out that the island was called Malta. 2 The islanders showed us unusual kindness. They built a fire and welcomed us all because it was raining and cold. 3 Paul gathered a pile of brushwood and, as he put it on the fire, a viper, driven out by the heat, fastened itself on his hand. 4 When the islanders saw the snake hanging from his hand, they said to each other, “This man must be a murderer; for though he escaped from the sea, Justice has not allowed him to live.” 5 But Paul shook the snake off into the fire and suffered no ill effects.
Zephaniah 3:17 – The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save…
With a grateful heart,

Kristi

Props

Since my youth, O God, you have taught me, and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds. ~ Psalm 71:17

We’ve spent several days talking about the life of a teen – the good, the bad and the ugly. I’ve offered up some personal examples in hope that, in some small way, someone else can relate.  Before ending this series, I would be remiss if I didn’t give God a shout-out for the amazing things He did in the midst of tragedy.  Today, I simply want to say thank you to Him by telling of His good works.

All of the events in my teen life (which only some have been shared on this blog for the sake of time) were shocking to me.  Most of them I never saw coming.  I was emotionally startled at every turn.  God knew how hyper-sensitive I had become to the instability in my life, and He stepped in one day in a most unique way.  I had a dream.  I was in a room with pale blue walls and dark brown furniture.  It had a big window.  It was quiet.  I didn’t know where I was, but it was calming and unsettling at the same time.  In my dream, I walked around the room looking at everything in detail.  I turned to close the door, and behind the door there was a cross with Christ hanging on it.  I thought to myself in the dream, Jesus is here – He is in this room.

Shortly after the dream, my mom had surgery.  I’ll never forget the moment we were told they couldn’t get all of the cancer, and her long-term prognosis was grim.  She was placed in a hospital room post-op.  I walked down the sterile maze of halls to find her room and entered it.  I had not just entered a hospital room, but a new phase with my mom.  Everything rode on her surgery.  We were waiting for the good news that she was on the other side of this.  That we were on the other side of cancer.  Such was not the case.  This phase was dark and terrifying.  Oddly, however, the room felt familiar to me.  I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it felt like I had been there before.  As she lay in bed, unaware of our presence, I scanned the room with quizzical curiosity.  Then it dawned on me.  Perhaps I had been here before – in my dream? I walked to the door and slowly began to look behind it thinking there was no way.  Yes way.  There it was…the same exact cross with Christ hanging on it. I knew then the gift God had given me.  He absorbed the shock value for me by letting me walk the new room, the new phase of life,  in my dream first.  Most importantly, through the same cross, Jesus reminded me that I was not alone – He was there with us.

Months later, on what would be my mom’s last Valentine’s Day, a guy I was dating at the time, (he was a bit older than me and was in the service) and I talked about how she was going to be all alone.  My sister had gone out for the evening, and I felt terribly guilty for leaving Mom to go out with him.  He surprised both my mom and me with a change in plans.  He came to our door with not one, but two huge bouquets of flowers – one for her and one for me.  He surprised us and told us that he’d be taking both of us to dinner and a movie!  And he did.  Even in the movie, he sat in the middle of us with an arm around each of us.  She had not felt that in a long time.  Afterwards, he took down the top of his JEEP and took my mom on the ride of her life.  He had her laughing and screaming and hanging on tight.  She had so much fun, and I enjoyed every second of watching her smile more than she had in many months.  He is a Christian, and truly the love of Christ shone through him.  It is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for our family.  God really was my mom’s Valentine that year.

A few years later, I was in college and wasn’t sure what major would be best for me.  Therefore, I took a variety of different courses.  As an undergraduate, I was given special permission to take some graduate-level courses.  Besides the full load of social work courses I took that semester, I also took a graduate class in the sociology of emotion.  It was one of the most interesting classes I’ve ever taken.  I was able to learn how emotions affect the human body.  It was fascinating and helped me understand myself better.  Moreover, I was granted the opportunity to take a graduate class in rehabilitative counseling.

At that point in my life, I had not received any personal counseling for what I had endured.  This class, for me, was like school and therapy all rolled into one.  It was there I learned the 5 stages of grief in depth, as well as other issues common to trauma and suffering.  I could not get enough of this class.  So much of what I was feeling about everything that had happened to me made much more sense.  God made a way for me to take both of these classes not normally available to undergrads.  This class changed my life.  And, it led me to the next blessing.

While taking rehab counseling, I suffered from strong chest pains, rapid heart rate, sweating, panic, shortness of breath, etc.  Every time it happened, I thought I was having a heart attack.  My newlywed husband drove me to the ER each time.  The last time it happened, my doctor was on call in the ER at the time.  He had already performed an EKG and other tests on me in his office and concluded I was fine.  But, here I was in the ER again with the same scary symptoms.  He came out to the waiting room (to my surprise) and squatted down in front of me.  I thought I was special to receive such personal treatment.  With hands clasped together, he looked at me through his glasses and firmly said – loud enough for the entire room to hear – Kristi, you are not sick.  There is nothing wrong with you.  If you want to see sick people, come in the back with me and I’ll show them to you.  I refuse to treat you.  What you need is counseling.  Now go home!  What?  How could he?  How DARE he!  I was mortified as I sat there wide-eyed in the hard, plastic chair.  I watched his white coat disappear behind the double doors and that was that.  Everyone in the waiting room stared at me as I got up and left.

I was spitting mad!  He did not have the right to chastise me in front of everyone.  He refused treatment for me.  He yelled at me!  His words…were right.  After days of replaying the embarrassing scene over in my mind, his words about counseling kept coming back.  I swallowed a large dose of pride and called my church to see what was available.  Sure enough, a social worker was assigned to our church.  The first time I met with her, I gave her the rundown of the many things that had happened in my life.  She very calmly responded, I think we have something to work with here.  However, I told her I could only afford $5/session.  (I was a newlywed at 19 and my young husband and I were working our way through college.)  She said that was okay.  I met with her every other day for an entire year.  I don’t remember the sessions, but I know that they played a HUGE part in getting me through grieving and helping me heal.  Kind of like running.  A runner can train for a year, and not remember every step, path or trail.  However, she still trains for the finish line.  The sessions are a blur, but each one of them got me one step closer to healing.

Sometimes we think nothing good can come of something bad.  The way my doctor treated me was humiliating, unfair and disrespectful.  But, it took that difficult moment for me to realize it wasn’t my physical heart that needed treating.  Indeed, God brought something very good out of a bad moment.

There are so many blessings God gave me through those difficult years.  How I wish I could keep writing and writing to share them with you.  Sometimes they were obvious, and other times I had to really search to find them.  But, He promised to never leave me and He never has.  For teens, parents, caregivers and friends, remember this…God is good all the time – even when life isn’t.  He’s working for the best interest of His children, for His glory, and His covenant promises to never abandon us even if we abandon Him.  Don’t give up…you have a life story, too.  What will you write?

Psalm 71:14-18

But as for me, I will always have hope;
   I will praise you more and more.
15 My mouth will tell of your righteousness,
   of your salvation all day long,
   though I know not its measure.
16 I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, O Sovereign LORD;
   I will proclaim your righteousness, yours alone.
17 Since my youth, O God, you have taught me,
   and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds.
18 Even when I am old and gray,
   do not forsake me, O God,
till I declare your power to the next generation,
   your might to all who are to come.  

Untangle the web of lies – What a teenager won’t tell you

As I prepare to speak to teen girls about brutal lies and cultural myths that we get so easily caught up in, writing about some of them on this blog has really helped me organize my thoughts.  I hope it has been beneficial to your journey as well.  Revisiting memories has been understandably painful at times, but it’s also been a huge blessing to see just how far God will go to rescue someone; that everyone is valuable to Him; and sticking through the rough times reaps beautiful blessings on the other side.

Two cents.  That’s all I have in my pockets today.  I want to offer my two cents with some tips that may help smooth some rough spots with teenagers when life gets hard.  I am not a trained professional.  My opinions are based on my experience, what I’ve learned in college and as a volunteer.  What works for some may not work for others.  Always consult a qualified professional before making significant changes in a teen’s life who has suffered loss.

* When dealing with a teen who has a sick or dying parent, don’t take I’m fine as an answer.  Certainly don’t push the teen to talk, but understand that those two words have little to no value.  If you hear them, let it be a red flag that you may want to follow-up on.  Sometimes they may not be up to talking, but they can also be testing you to see if your inquiry to their well-being is genuine or if it is really just to ease your own conscious.  Don’t ask them how they are doing.  How do you think they are doing?  Instead, ask how they are holding up.

* Familiarize yourself with the 5 stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.  Website of grief stages and their explanations.

* Understand that everyone grieves differently.  People should never compare grieving!  We are unique, as are our experiences and how we process them, and it is completely unfair to place our own expectations on someone else.  Judge not – it’s like kicking them when their down.

* Understand that the first 12 months are extremely important in grieving.  This doesn’t mean we count the months beginning in January, it means 365 days from the day the parent died.  Think about it, there are so many things that happen in a year (holidays, school events, social events, big and small moments in life that surround a particular date or memory), a full cycle needs to be lived out in order to understand life is never going to be the way it used to be.  Quirky family traditions for April Fool’s Day may change, first-day-of-school dinner may not happen, you know, family stuff – it’s all different now.  Be patient with the teen as they try to live through a year of firsts so they can begin to find a new sense of normal.  Yes, a full year.  I believe productive grieving can take place during that year, but life needs a year just to walk through each of the 365 days of being and feeling different.

* The Hospice website is an excellent resource for the whole family.  They offer priceless words of wisdom for teens, as well as a host of other resources for children, parents and caregivers.  I highly recommend this site for caregivers, family and close friends.

* Listen.  Listen.  Listen.  Don’t be so quick to offer a resolution, solution, or fix.  Just listen to them.  It’s amazing what can surface when a teen actually gets to have our undivided attention.

* For trusted friends and family – be there.  You don’t have to say anything, just offer a presence.  Teens who have suffered significant loss are waiting for everyone else to leave, too.  Find something the teen likes to do and offer your time with permission (i.e., watch sports, walk the dog, go to the movies).

* You can’t replace the loved one they’ve lost, but you can help ease the pain.  Remember back-to-school shopping I wrote about?  Perhaps offer to fill in a gap when the teen doesn’t know how to ask for help.

* Make your home a safe place.  Teens go through a lot every day – even on the best day hormones are raging and emotions can be unpredictable.  In a safe environment (not just physical, but emotionally safe meaning they feel free to be themselves without judgement) the teen can drop their guard and may just open their heart.

* Say the name of, and talk about, the parent who died.  One of the most painful aspects of grieving is that the loved one becomes invisible – as if he or she never existed.  People are either too uncomfortable or too worried they’ll upset the teen if they mention the parent, therefore nothing gets said.  For me, it was literally years before anyone ever said my mom’s name (my own family never even mentioned her).  It was an old friend of my mom’s who approached me.  She didn’t know that my mom had died.  This friend asked how she was doing.  I told her, and the friend immediately began apologizing up and down.  I interrupted her and said, Thank you.  You’re the first person to say her name to me in years.  It’s feels good to hear others remember her.  It was about 5 years after my mom died when I realized I had forgotten what her voice sounded like.  It absolutely devastated me!  I cried and cried.  Their legacy, memories and media (photos, video) are really all we have left.  Give the teen the chance to relive good memories when they’re ready.  It can be very healing.

* Offer to help.  There may be large needs you may or may not be able to help with, but I can promise you there are a myriad of small needs beloved friends and family can help meet.  If the teen is in sports, drama, music or any performance activity, offer to attend.  Empty seats are a heart-breaker.  Remember the teen’s birthday with a card or phone call.  Remember the deceased parent’s birthday with a card or phone call.  Offer to help rake the leaves in the fall, plant flowers in the spring, or go for ice cream on a Saturday afternoon.  Just being there is so helpful.  Offering a hand and sharing a smile in the everyday moments of life make the big milestones (holidays, anniversaries, birthdays, etc.) more bearable.  If everyone close to the teen each did one thing, just think about what a difference that would make to remind them they are valuable, loved, and remembered.

* Consider letting the teen make some decisions about their life when appropriate.  One of the best gifts my grandparents ever gave me was the freedom to let me choose whether or not to attend my high school graduation.  I DID NOT want to attend for various valid reasons.  They didn’t push the issue with me.  Today, I still don’t regret it.  Situations are different for everyone, but if a teen feels adamant about something that isn’t earth-shattering or life-changing, at least be patient and listen to their side. Teens in grief may appreciate feeling a little bit of control over their life in times of unrest.  My decision came almost a year after my mom’s death.  Careful consideration should be made concerning the 5 stages of grief and the teen.

* If you have pictures of the parent, scan copies and compose a small photo book for the teen.  Maybe add some short text about a funny story or memory; or what was special about the parent or how they positively impacted your life. People have different roles in each other’s lives. I can only imagine how wonderful it would be to have photos of my mom at work, out with girlfriends, etc. in roles other than as I knew her – Mom.  Online printing companies and superstores print these photo books for little cost nowadays.  It may take a few hours of your life to do this, but it will give the teen a lifelong treasure.  Wait for the appropriate time to give this gift to the teen.

* If I haven’t stressed this point enough already, make yourself available.  It may take days, weeks or months for a teen to be ready to talk, share or do stuff together, but just knowing you are willing to invest in their life can help talk a teen down from their proverbial ledge.  In the meantime, keep a watchful eye on symptoms that need to be addressed by a professional.  Offer a shoulder to lean on, an ear to listen, a heart to feel and hands to help, but know when to encourage the teen to seek professional help.  They are trained in the most appropriate ways to assist the teen to work through their grieving.  Our best attempt at “counseling” may prove to hurt the situation more than it would help.

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I hope these suggestions have helped shed some light on an issue too dimly lit.  Teens are far too often swept under the rug because adults don’t give teens enough credit that they have thoughts, opinions, feelings, questions, and words that need to purged.  Most teens are profoundly affected by parent loss.  Literally, the teen’s future hangs in the balance of how healthy the grieving process has been.  Research is downright scary for teens who are unheard, ignored, and not helped through every stage of grieving.  It could be the beginning of a downward spiral, or, with proper attention and care, the teen can come through the entire experience with hope, optimism, healing and strength.

Give the teen in your life every opportunity to grieve, mourn, heal and realize their full potential.  They have the rest of their lives ahead of them.  May they experience the abundant life Jesus calls them to in John 10:10 – The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.

 

Untangle the web of lies – eating, loss & labels

Hello!  Welcome back!  We are trudging through the waters of the tumultuous teen years on this blog right now.  Whew, I am reminded why adults say they’d never want to relive them again. :O  I’m ready to tackle another cultural lie.  Are you?

You are what you eat.  Isn’t that how the old saying goes?  For all intense purposes, I agree.  Yes, nutritional value plays a huge part in our well-being.  I gave up soft drinks, juice, fried foods and candy (not chocolate :)) eight years ago.  I may splurge for special occasions, but none of those are a part of my normal diet.  So then, why do I struggle with my weight?  Consistently inconsistent exercise is one element, but it’s not the main culprit.

To answer this question, perhaps the old saying should be revised…You are WHY you eat.  Bingo.  This familiar trap is as welcome as a tooth ache or flat tire.  It’s so uncomfortable because I believed that I was WHY I ate for so many years.  It’s something I still struggle with to some degree.

This is today’s lie we are exposing.  It goes back to my post about circumstances not defining us – but do we really believe it?

When my mom was nearing the end with her breast cancer battle, I had no one to help me through the emotional maze and stress of it all.  Not only was I trying to convince myself that she was going to be okay, but I also had eyes in my head that saw she was not.  No one would talk to me about the state of her health.  I warred with myself about this every minute of the day.  Add to that the pressure from school and trying to be a “normal” teenager, a daughter, a granddaughter, a sister, a friend (to barely a few), and a student.

I seriously think that adults cannot comprehend the stress that teens go through with a sick or dying parent.  Nothing in the teen’s entire world makes sense.  Nothing.

There were two things in my life that I felt were safe zones.  God and food.  Both were vying for all of me.  God was radically pursuing me with passionate grace, mercy and love.  Food didn’t pursue me, but it offered momentary relief from my troubles.

When my mom was still able to eat, I remember one morning before school (I straddled living in two houses at the time), I reached into the fridge to get something for breakfast.  I mistakenly took one of the only foods that my mom could tolerate.  My grandfather said to me, That’s your mother’s.  In an instant, I decided to use this moment as a cry for help.  I didn’t know how to express my need to talk about her, so I intentionally replied, Sure it is.  It all is.  It’s all about her. Wow.  That was really the wrong thing to say to a man who was nursing his dying daughter.  I know I sounded like a brat.  I meant to.  For me, what I said was my huge S.O.S. signal that I was in trouble and needed rescuing.  To him, what I said was solely ungrateful, mean-spirited and rude.  Even in that moment, I understood his reaction.  I would’ve felt the same way if roles were reversed.  I was going for shock value – and got it.  Let’s just say I never used that tactic again.  Actually, I never made another cry for help again.  I pulled away from everyone.  From then on, I internalized everything.

I now know physical bodies are not strong enough, nor have the capacity, to hold all of our emotions, feelings and thoughts.  Issues will find a way of coming out in the name of sheer self-preservation and survival.  For me, I came down with IBS (irritable bowel syndrome), but had no idea it was a real medical issue.  It was a living nightmare.  Mom had just died and I was secretly spinning out of emotional control.  IBS, at first, made me lose a ton of weight.  I was average, okay, maybe holding an extra ten pounds, but soon my clothes were literally falling off of me.  I remember seeing an old friend who hadn’t seen me since before my mom died.  As she walked toward me, her eyes grew huge and she covered her hand over her mouth as she looked me up and down.  I think people thought I simply wasn’t eating out of distress.  No.  My body was blowing up inside and I had no clue how to stop it and was far too embarrassed to tell anyone how sick I really was.

With IBS (and daily migraines!) in full swing, I remember standing in my grandparents’ kitchen one day.  I had drank a half of a glass of orange juice and set the half full cup in the sink.  Remember, my grandparents were from a different era and I truly understood that in my head, but my heart was another story.  No sooner did I set the cup down in the sink, did my grandfather come right behind me, pick up the cup and drink the leftover juice.  He looked at me and reminded me not to waste.  However, I was also living with my precious grandmother who had no idea how to help any of us 0r herself.  So she did what came natural to her.  She cooked.  She offered me food all the time, and my grandfather told me not to waste any.  Ug.  It was the perfect storm.

Then it happened.  One day, I felt a huge hole in my stomach.  I mean, literally, I felt a gaping emptiness overpower me.  Sensing this crossroads, Jesus spoke to my heart immediately and said, I am the bread of life.  Eat of me.  I paused and responded ever-so-eloquently, I have no idea what You are talking about.  Then I picked up whatever was on the counter and devoured the entire thing. Thus the food cycle began.

Food became a god to me.  It gave me something to do.  It kept me company when I was lonely.  Eating was a positive experience (though the IBS that followed wasn’t).  Eating let me put my nervous energy to use.  It was legal.

I am serious when I tell you I understand how people begin addictions to alcohol, cigarettes, sex and drugs.  I get it!   My pain was so deep, ominous, continual and merciless, if it had not been for God’s grace (by giving me a conscious the size of Texas!) I would have done ANYTHING to mask the pain.  I would have drank it, shot it, slept with it, snorted it, smoked it, anything to take the life-draining pain and stress away even for a moment.  This from a girl who had never so much as been called down by a teacher.  I was as vanilla as they came.  Not perfect (ha!!), but I had such an unhealthy fear of authority (thanks to my stepfather) that I had to be as good of a girl as possible 24/7/365 – no questions asked.  The pain was stronger than anything I’d ever felt.  It has been said that people will do anything when hungry enough, I believe the same is also true for emotional pain – no matter how out of character it would normally be.  Praise God He kept me from those illicit things, but I chose food as second best to Him.  I told God once, with food in hand, I know You are better for me.  I know I should go pray or read my Bible.  But that takes energy and effort I simply don’t have.  I want to feel better right now.  Food does that for me. I’m sorry, God.  It’s the way I feel.

God was still my heart’s desire, and I sought Him stronger than ever before, as best as I could, but I had this side-kick shadowing me.  I had a hidden idol.  Food.  I didn’t realize how out of control it had become until one afternoon I laid on my grandparents’ couch watching an old Perry Mason rerun.  I had no life whatsoever, so I logged many hours of television a day (which is why I hardly ever watch it now).  During a commercial, I reached down to grab a soda sitting on the floor.  It was empty.  I leaned over to find another one when I realized a startling fact – in two hours, I had consumed 12 cans of soft drinks!  What I know now about sugar and caffeine, I should not have a pancreas left!  I realized then I had a problem – one I didn’t know how to fix.

Food had become my feel-good friend.  It was my adrenaline outlet.  It was available.  It made me happy for a moment.  But, it was destroying my body from the inside out. Then the weight gain began.  It’s been a struggle ever since to retrain my thinking that food isn’t the answer for: good times, bad times, sad times, fun times, angry times, lonely times, celebratory times, bored times, happy times, sympathy times, and every other time.  What an uphill struggle.

This led to layers upon layers of self-hate because now I had added some extra pounds.  I felt horrible about the way I looked and the way clothes looked on me.  I compared myself with every classmate, stranger and magazine cover.  I hated that I overate.  I hated how I looked.  I hated why I ate.  I hated the IBS.  I hated that I had no control over any of it.  Exhausted, I gave up and gave in to the lure of overeating. And, I had grandparents that had no idea of my struggle and served me food and pressured me to finish the plate every time.

I had given in to every lie that was whispered in my ear.  You’re all alone now. Nobody cares.  You’re fat.  You’re ugly.  You’re pathetic!  You are powerless. You’re weak.  You’re hopeless.  There’s no future for you, so what does it matter?

Without realizing it, I had bought the lie – hook, line and sinker – that my circumstances defined me – I was WHY I ate.  It took years to unwind this thinking.  The Truth?

Yes, I was alone, but NO I didn’t have to be lonely.  The LORD is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. ~ Psalm 34:18

Yes, I had a problem with food, but NO God wasn’t going to give up on me. Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life.  He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.” ~ John 6:35 

Yes, my life seemed like a dead-end, but God is the God of new beginnings.  I waited patiently for the LORD; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the LORD.  ~ Psalm 40:1-3

Yes, I was miserable, but God offered a comfort deep in my spirit that not even food could satisfy.  May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant. ~ Psalm 119:76

Yes, all seemed hopeless, but NO it was not.  Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. ~ Psalm 62:5

Yes, I felt like a loser, but God wasn’t finished with me yet!  …being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. ~ Philippians 1:6

Yes, I felt unequipped to fight for my life, but God fights for us!  Do not be afraid of them; the LORD your God himself will fight for you! ~ Deuteronomy 3:22

Yes, I felt like there was no future for me, but the Bible says God has a plan. ‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. ~ Jeremiah 29:11

Before people judge others for how they look – their body shape or size; how they dress; or even their hygiene – it helps to look deeper than skin-deep and see if there is something going on beneath the surface.  I was called fat by guys who didn’t even know my name.  And, you know what?  I wasn’t “fat” by scale standards.  I just wasn’t model-thin.  If you are struggling with WHY you eat, I encourage you to talk with a trusted resource.  Food issues like mine (or starving, vomiting, etc.) don’t have to get the best of us.  I’m right there with you on this journey, learning more and more that our souls only find rest and peace in God – not the kitchen.  Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.  ~ Psalm 34:8

<<Check out the companion song to this post on my Tunes page!>>