From Prostitute to Princess

I really should wait till tomorrow to post the first of the sermon notes, but I was so excited about doing this, I couldn’t wait. The first set of notes comes from my days at Wave Church in Virginia Beach, VA. The first several entries in this particular notebook seem to have been taken either during a conference, or when Steve Kelly, the head pastor was out of town (probably at the Hillsong conference in Sydney since these notes were taken in July), because they are from different speakers. Entry number 1 was taken on July 9, 2000. Ps Greg Phelps was the speaker. He is the pastor of one of the Wave Network churches, though I couldn’t find any bio info on him.

“From Prostitute to Princess”

Joshua 2:1-24

Rahab was the lowest of the low in her society. If a king wasn’t to be spared, how much less a prostitute? Because she welcomed the spies she was spared. She became a part of Israeli society. She married Sinoam, one of the spies, who was a prince of Israel. So, Rahab became a princess, mother of Boaz, and predecessor of King David and Christ. (Matt. 1:4, Heb. 11:31, James 2:25)

James 4:7, 1Peter 5:9

Are we willing to defy our society?

• Rahab defied the world.
• She had dependence on God (Josh 2:11b)
• She was totally dependent on this God she had never met. She was willing to risk her life for this God because of the conviction of the spies.
• Trust God—give up all the old things you depend on.
• Rahab endured to the end.
• The spies left and she was alone.
•  The scarlet cord which had been a symbol of shame (her prostitute colors) became a symbol of hope and salvation when she hung it from her back window.
• She took down her colors from her front door and had to endure persecutions for weeks from her society until the Israelites came.
• The promise was kept and she was saved.
• She brought her family with her. She didn’t seek salvation only for herself. She had a house of sanctuary where others could be saved.
• She never quit believing.

My thoughts: Yet again, God is confirming what He has been showing me lately. If I truly live in a way that seeks His Kingdom first, then I will be required to defy the society in which I live. I will have to give up all the old things on which I have depended, forsake the life I have known, and depend solely on God. I will endure persecutions, yet I have to continue to believe no matter what happens. I also need to create a sanctuary in my home and life where others can be saved. I can’t just seek salvation for myself, which is the life I have lived in recent years, but I must seek salvation for others as well.

I’m also struck by the fact that the cord Rahab hung from her window was scarlet, much like the blood that covered the doorposts of the Israelites on the night of the first Passover was scarlet, and the blood of Christ that covers my heart is also scarlet. This cord was the symbol of her profession and would've been hung outside her front door when she was open for business. Rahab’s willingness to remove the scarlet cord from her front door and move it to her back window became the path to her salvation. She moved from a place of dependence on herself and worldly pursuits to dependence on God. Her perspective changed. As a prostitute she had probably spent many hours looking through the door onto the streets of Jericho, while waiting for her next customer. Once she took the scarlet cord from her door and moved it to the window, she probably spent many hours looking through it hoping to see the return of the spies. Rahab turned her back on the doorway to her past and sacrificed all she had known. In doing so she found the window to her future. In losing her life she found it. It’s so much easier to go through a door than through a window. There’s much you would have to leave behind to go through a window. Just like there’s much that must be left behind to forsake the broad road for the narrow. Lord, give me the grace, strength, and courage to leave behind what I must and forsake the broad road so that I can travel the narrow way.

This post has been added to "Walk With Him Wednesdays".

Putting God's Kingdom First

Back in 1996 I went to Hyderabad, India with Teen Mania Ministries. Angel Meagher (though that wasn’t her last name at the time) was one of my Project Directors on the trip. Of all the missions trips I have been on, India was the one place where I went that I didn’t want to leave. That trip had a very strong impact on my life and influences a lot of my current ideals and values. God moved so strongly in India, in me, and in the people there. I've always wanted to go back. Angel Meagher left India when I did, but not for long. Eventually she moved back and married a man from India, named Matthew Meagher. Together they have a wonderful ministry that impacts India for God’s Kingdom in several ways. For example, they have an orphanage that houses 700 kids!

This summer, a team from my church, Crossroads Vineyard, will be taking a trip to Hyderabad. We will be partnering with The Jesus Way, Matthew and Angel’s ministry, on this trip. We will be helping them in the orphanage, teaching English, helping with the construction of their new facility, feeding orphans and widows, and loving on the people of Hyderabad.

So, why do I want to go on this trip? I love the Indian people and I want to tell them how much God loves them, minister to the poor, love on those who are so often neglected in our world, and give them the opportunity to know Jesus. But there's more to it than that. God has been working a lot on my heart lately about living a life that seeks His Kingdom above all else. I have to admit that I have not always done that. I have often lived in a way that promoted my own kingdom of self and comfort. When I was younger I committed my life to God’s Kingdom. I dreamed of a life of adventure, bringing the Gospel to those in need. I even said to my parents, “Who wants a normal life?” Every decision I made regarding my schooling and training was with the purpose of enabling me to fulfill the calling I felt on my life. However as time went on, I let the worries and cares of everyday life take priority, and I let my own comfort become an idol. I wasn’t disciplined enough to delay gratification, especially with my finances and habits. I was very shortsighted and allowed momentary desires to guide many of my decisions rather than seeking God’s Kingdom first. This type of life is not the life I desire to have. I desire to live the life of faith. I no longer want to be hindered by the consequences that come as a result of poor choices. Don't get me wrong, I love my family so much it hurts and I am so thankful for the relationships that I have and the blessings God has mercifully given in spite of me, but I’ve realized that the time to make big changes has come. I want my kids to know there is a better way to live. It’s time to stop giving lip service to putting God’s Kingdom first, and actually start doing it. This means my life will have to be different than it has been. It will be uncomfortable for me and for others at times. I will have to learn walk in the Spirit, delay gratification, ask myself at every turn which choice puts God’s Kingdom first, and walk the narrow road of the Kingdom. Thank goodness I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. I’ve already shown how miserably I fail when I try to walk the narrow road in my own strength.

So, does putting the Kingdom first mean I’m going to hop the first plane to a distant continent and become a full-time missionary? Well, no. Not yet anyway. I do have a family and obligations that God wants me to honor, but I can go to India this summer, if God makes the arrangements. It will not be easy for us to get there. Because of our current financial situation and potential schedule conflicts, it doesn’t look likely for us to go. The trip is June 24^th through July 5^th. We may be moving around that time, and family may be coming in during that time as well. The first deposit of $500 each is due on March 24^th. There is no earthly way we can make this happen, but with God all things are possible, so I’m putting this out there in faith. Further, I currently need $135 to get my passport as it takes several weeks to obtain one. Please join with me in prayer that God will provide. If you feel He is leading you to be a part you can make a secure, tax-deductible donation via my church’s donation page. (If you make a donation on the page, put "For India missions trip via Ordinary Marvels" in the comment section.) Please, don’t make this decision out of sympathy or a sense of personal obligation, but only because of God’s prompting. What happens if someone donates, and Shawn and I don’t go? Well, my desire is to help the team get to India whether I go or not. This is not about Shawn and me, but about God’s Kingdom. So in the case that I raise money for the trip, but don’t end up going, I will give it to the team so others can go in our stead.

Thanks for joining with us in prayer. I know God is going to move in a mighty way!

I am Christ

I know, I know. It's been months since I've posted anything, and the first thing I post sounds extremely boastful at first take. Please don't assume I'm having delusions of grandeur. Before you call the psych ward, I assure you, the opposite is true. It is only with utmost humility that I can make any such claim, as "I am Christ", because inherit in the claim is the acknowledgement that I am dead. It's only through Christ that I can claim Him and that He is remaking me to the point that only He is left. I am by no means saying that I am perfected yet. He is definitely still working on me. But after this morning, which is really the culmination of Christ's work in my life up to this point, I can see how more and more of me has died every day, and how more and more of me continues to die, and I couldn't be happier about it.

This morning I began reading a new (to me) book, Victorious Faith, by Rev. Richard Wurmbrand. He originally wrote the book in 1974, but thanks to the Kindle revolution, I was able to obtain an updated copy for $1.00 from Amazon, and so far the book has been well worth the investment. Rev. Wurmbrand was a pastor in Romania when the Communist Revolution made its way into that nation. He refused to swear loyalty to the communist regime and instead declared that he would give glory to Christ alone on Romanian national television. A couple of years later he was arrested and imprisoned. He suffered a total of 14 years in the communist prison. It’s amazing that he survived those torturous years, but God had another purpose for His suffering other than martyrdom. In 1964 Rev. Wurmbrand was granted amnesty and ransomed out of Romania for $10,000. He eventually came to the United States. He testified before Congress about the horrors he witnessed and the tortures he received, even removing his shirt to bear witness with the scars he bore on his abused body. He went on to establish Voice of the Martyrs (VOM) which endeavors to connect Western Christians with their fellow brothers and sisters who are living under persecution. VOM educates Westerners and ministers to the persecuted and their families. You can learn more about Rev. Wurmbrand and how to help our persecuted family at www.persecution.com. You can even order a free copy of Tortured for Christ. Rev. Wurmbrand passed away at the age of 91 in 2001 after a remarkable life as a good and faithful servant. He walked in love and forgiveness, even for those that had tortured him. He definitely was someone who could write a book called Victorious Faith with complete integrity.[i]

I didn’t get very far into Victorious Faith this morning. I was a couple of pages in and I started to get confused. This is what I read:

A great confusion of spheres has taken place. The sphere of grammar and the sphere of religion are different from each other. Every pupil in school, who, when asked to conjugate a verb, replies that God is love and that whosoever believes in Him is born of God, will get a bad mark, even if the teacher is religious. Religion has no place in an examination on grammar.

But neither has grammar any say in religion. In the sphere of practical life we have to conjugate verbs, and for this we need personal pronouns. We have to distinguish between properties: between my house, my book, my wife, and that belonging to another. And so we have to use “I,” “you,” and “he.” But please leave pronouns in the realm of grammar, to which they belong; do not introduce them into religion![ii]

I was thinking, “Why is he talking about grammar?” He went on to say:

When Jesus Christ met Saul of Tarsus, a great persecutor of the Christians, on the road to Damascus, He asked him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?” (Acts 9:4). Saul could have answered truthfully, “I never persecuted You. I persecuted Your disciples.” But those who belong to Jesus form the very body of Christ. Jesus feels Himself persecuted as often as His disciple is hurt; He weeps with every disciple who weeps, He rejoices with every disciple who rejoices.[iii]

Those last two sentences caught my attention. I even highlighted them, but I hadn’t really experienced any revelation yet.

Jesus says that at the last judgment the wicked will hear the reproach, “I have been hungry, sick, or in prison and you did not visit Me.” And He then explains that as often as one of His little brethren suffered hardships, it was He Himself who passed through suffering.

The Lord Jesus is our leader in religion. But He might not pass an examination in grammar because He uses interchangeably the personal pronouns “he” and “I.”[iv]

“Huh?” I thought. “Back to grammar again?” Clearly I wasn’t getting it. Then in the next section he said:

Two thousand years ago Jesus said, “I am the truth.” And for 2,000 years this assertion of His has been falsified and quoted as meaning that Jesus said, “He is the truth.” But He never said that He is the truth. He said, “I am the truth.” If you make Him a “he,” even with a capital H, you have lost the truth.[v]

Here was another interesting thought, but the revelation didn’t strike until I got to the last few paragraphs of that section. He said:

Jesus never wished to be “he.” As a condition for His being the truth, He must always remain an “I.” I am the truth, not He is the truth. If I wish to have the truth and to be the truth, Jesus must be for me an “I.”

 It is not true that He must become an I. He is an I. Luther says, “The Christian is Christ.” This is a fact, though you may not realize it yet. When my eyes are opened, I say with the apostle Paul, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians 2:20). Then I become sure of my own thoughts.

Men of God have always thought like this.

Luther wrote, “I have to distinguish between myself and my calling. I consider myself as the smallest. But my calling is untouchable …Nobody should have a high opinion of his own person, but everyone should mightily praise his calling to the glory of God.”[vi]

That’s when the light bulb finally illuminated in my reluctant mind. After I read that (a few times) I got stuck. I couldn’t go any further this morning. I was driven to the Word and driven to write. The following is what God said through my fingers this morning. It may seem startling at first. I have to admit I was startled by it, but the more God brought scripture after scripture to mind and further enlightened me the more I began to see the necessity of it and the truth of it since there is nothing good we can do apart from God. At first it may seem theologically incorrect, but please bear with me and read to the end:

I am Christ. He is me. We are one. I am literally a part of His body. I am the physical embodiment of Christ on the earth. Just as my finger is me—is part of me. It has no identity, no purpose apart from me. But neither can it be said to belong to someone else, even should it be could off, it is still mine. I will never be cut off because Christ will present to Himself a Bride that is whole and spotless. I abide in Christ and He abides in me. I was crucified with Him and now I am dead and He was resurrected in me. It is no longer I who live, but CHRIST LIVES IN ME! The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son, walking in the Spirit. I am dead to sin. I can no longer fulfill the desires of the flesh. I adhere to Christ, rely on Him, and completely trust His life in me. It is He who strengthens me, quickening my body to perform with His mighty power. I have the mind of Christ. His mind possesses mine. My thoughts are taken captive and made obedient to Christ. He dwells deep within my heart, indwelling my innermost being, my very personality. He has overtaken me. I am rooted deep in love and founded on it securely. He empowers me to understand His love, to experience its height and width and length and depth by letting Him love me, by loving Him, and by loving others. As I love others I come to know and practically experience His love. I love because He loves me. HE LOVES ME! There are no longer any barriers to His love in my life—not suffering, affliction or tribulation, nor calamity or distress, nor persecution, hunger, destitution, peril, or conflict, nor death or life, angels or principalities, nor things impending or threatening or things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation—not even myself. I am completely surrendered to Him—every organ, every membrane, every tissue, every cell, every particle of every cell. My whole being is filled with the fullness of God, every electron charged with the power of His Spirit. I have the richest measure of His divine presence. I am a body wholly filled and flooded with God Himself! I am no longer my own. I have been bought with a price, sold to the Highest Bidder. He possesses every part of me. I am His to do with as He pleases. He does with me as He sees fit. I am not separate from Him, but I am one with Him. Where I go, He goes with me, whether to the highest of highs or the lowest of lows, to the uttermost parts of the sea, or the furthest corners of the earth, whether in dark or light He is with me because I am Him and He is me.

In the past I misunderstood. I mistreated God's precious gift, seeing it as something less than it is. I saw Christ as separate from me, and held back parts of myself. I did not let His Lordship rule every area of my life. I did not live fully surrendered to Him, did not fully comprehend the implications of my salvation, the all-encompassing nature of it. Through my own destructive hands I have been guilty of treating His most precious, gracious gift as something of minor importance, defeating its purpose in my life. I will no longer set aside and invalidate and frustrate the grace of God in my life. I am a new creation, engrafted in Him. Those sinful, self-serving things which were once a part of me are no more. They have dried up and died, pruned off and carried away to be burned, destroyed forever. I have been purified by His blood, and now His life has become superimposed on mine. Each day I am transformed anew, His image becoming sharper and clearer in me, through me. When people look at me, they see through me straight to Christ. I become less and less as He becomes more and more. I must diminish so that there is nothing of me to color and obscure the view of Christ. I have become welded to Him—each cell has melded with His until my beginning and my ending are in Him. There is no me without Christ. I am completely and utterly lost in Him, lost to the World. I am His and His alone. When He moves, I move. When He hurts, I hurt. When He rejoices, I rejoice. When He gives, I give. When He loves, I love. I am helpless to stop it because I am more than just His representative—I am Him. To the people around me, I am Christ in the world. This is the reason I am here. This is my purpose. I live for one thing, and for that alone—to join in unity with my fellow members of Christ’s beautiful body to bring glory to Christ and His Kingdom. Let it be so!

(The following are the scriptures referenced, all from the Amplified Version:  Eph. 5:25-33, Rom. 12:5, 1 Cor. 12:12-27, Jn. 15:4-12, Gal 2:20, Gal 5:16, Rom 6:11, Rom. 8:11, Eph. 3:16-19, Phil. 3:14, I Cor. 2:16, II Cor. 10:5, I Jn. 4:19, Rom. 8:35, 38-39, I Cor 6:19-20, I Cor 7:23, Ps. 139:7-13, Gal 2:21, II Cor. 5:15, 17, Heb 12:1-2, Phil. 3:7-14, Rom. 12:1, Rev. 7:14, Gen. 1:26-27, Jn. 3:30, Rom. 12:15, Ps 133.)

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[i] See http://www.persecution.com/public/ourfounders.aspx?clickfrom=c2lkZWJhcg%3d%3d.

[ii] Wurmbrand, Richard (2011-04-11). Victorious Faith (Kindle Locations 42-48). Living Sacrifice Book Company. Kindle Edition.

[iii] Ibid. Kindle Locations 48-51.

[iv] Ibid. Kindle Locations 51-55.

[v] Ibid. Kindle Locations 57-60.

[vi] Ibid. Kindle Locations 64-70.

My Tribute to Grandpa

Yesterday was a difficult day for my family. It certainly turned out to be a day of "heartache and rejoicing". We miss Grandpa dearly, but we are so happy for him, and jealous that he is face to face with our wonderful Savior and Father. 

The following is what I said at the funeral yesterday before singing "It is Well With My Soul" with my dad. I've also included the arrangement of the lyrics as we sang it. It was the hardest song I've ever had to sing, and it had nothing to do with the difficulty of the song. My desire was to honor Grandpa. I hope I honored him well.

Here is what I said:

Grandpa Wayne was a strong man, not just physically, but also in his love for his country, his dedication to his family, and His faith in Christ. He was simple and straightforward—you always knew where he stood no matter the topic. He could be quite stern, but he could also be just as silly and fun-loving, especially with children. He delighted in his grandchildren. He loved to make us laugh. His life wasn’t easy, but I know he would tell you that it was a good life.

No matter what you could say about him, that he was a proud veteran, a hard-working farmer, a delighted grandfather, dedicated father, devoted husband… all of those pale in comparison to good and faithful servant. We always used to joke that the food would be cold before Grandpa would finish saying grace. His prayers were long-winded, but they were sincere. This is something I’ve always known, but I really came to understand it a couple of months ago. In September, I had the opportunity to go through his books with my mom. There were a few books from his Navy days and a few related to farming, but the vast majority of his modest collection reflected his faith—Bible commentaries, Sunday school manuals, Christian biographies, and the like. On the same day, I found the Bible that he gave me when I was seven years old. It was the only gift I can recall him giving me directly. The day he moved into the nursing home he told me that there was something so special about God's Word, that it moved him in a way no other book could.

           When I found the Bible he gave me, I opened it and realized he had written something in it which I’d like to read to you:

                                                                        October 1, 1982

            To Stephanie: from Grandpa.

            Dear Stephanie,

I want to give you this Bible so that you might have it to read and enjoy during the years of your young life. The Bible is God’s written Word and we should believe all of it from Genesis to Revelation. Jesus said, “My Word is truth, and the truth shall make you free indeed.” The psalmist David said, “thy Word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against thee.” So it is not what man says that’s important but rather what God says in His Holy Book. If any person tells us things, or teaches doctrines that disagree with what God says in His word, then we should not believe or follow them.

                                                                        Love and best wishes always,

                                                                        “Pa-Pa Wayne”

           Grandpa is now at peace. He has taken his place in Heaven’s grandstands, cheering on those of us who share his faith in Christ. As Mom says, he is dancing a jig before his beloved Savior. And one day I pray all of us here will join him.

          Grandpa’s greatest legacy is his love for Christ and his sincere service of our Lord. I’m so thankful for my Grandpa Wayne and the true Christian heritage he has left to us.

This is the arrangement we used for the song. If you don't know the story behind this song, it is worthwhile to take the time to read it. I think it will take on a much greater depth of meaning for you when you know the story. You may notice that we did change the verses around a bit to shorten the song a little and to utilize the lyrics that best fit the situation. Here, also the Brian Doerkson version of the song, one of the best I've heard.

It Is Well With My Soul 

by, Horatio Spafford 

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul. 

Refrain:

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul. 

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!

My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul! 

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,

Let this blest assurance control,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life,
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul. 

Refrain 

But Lord, 'tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,

The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul. 

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul. 

Refrain 

Tag: 
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Goodbye for now, Grandpa

Today we bury Grandpa. Today we say goodbye. It hurts to see him go, but we rejoice that he is at peace.

It's been a difficult year since he was placed in the nursing home. His deterioration due to the Alzheimer's/dementia seemed to speed up a lot. I had hoped to visit him regularly. I only got to visit him a handful of times. Each time was more difficult than the one before. The last time I saw him alive was only for about 10 or 15 minutes. I went in September with my mom and grandma.When we got on his wing, they had all the residents in the community room playing what they called, "Noodle Ball". The residents would bat a big beach ball to each other with swimming pool noodles. It looked like great fun for kids. But, when I looked around that room and realized that each one of those residents had at one time led productive lives with real responsibilities, I was saddened to see what they had been reduced to. We weren't able to stay long because he was very agitated and wouldn't acknowledge us. I think he knew that his life should be more than eat, sleep, be dressed and groomed by someone else, and hit a ball with a stupid stick. I HATE Alzheimer's! It stole Grandpa's life from him and it stole him away from us.

Two weeks ago today, Grandpa was admitted into the hospital with pneumonia. I was upset by the news and that I was so far away. I was at church when I received the phone call. I was blessed to have some of our new church family there to pray with me. From the time I got the news of his hospital admittance until the day last week that it was clear he would not be in this world much longer, I prayed that God would either completely heal him, including the Alzheimer's/dementia, or take him Home. Grandpa had such a strong body. At 87 the only medication he was on was occasional acid reflux meds, and something for the anxiety and aggression brought on by the Alzheimer's. He had never been hospitalized for illness his entire life until he contracted the pneumonia a couple of weeks ago. It would have taken Alzheimer's years and years to kill him. In the meantime he would have forgotten each one of us, who he was, all of his life, how to talk, how to walk, how to eat, until he finally forgot how to breathe. My prayer was that he would be spared all of that. My prayer is that we, his family, would be spared all of that. I'm so grateful to God that he did spare us all of that. Grandpa may not have had the opportunity to die at home on the farm, but he still had some of his mind. He still knew who he and who his wife and children were most of the time. I'm so grateful that he died with some of himself intact and that now his mind is fully restored and he is fully aware once again.

When I received the news of his passing Shawn, the kids, and I were on our way to see him, but we had been delayed by everyday life and we were still hours away. On Facebook I said, "He's gone. We're still hours away and he's gone. I'm so thankful that he is with our Jesus, thankful that his distress has seen it's end, thankful for his life, thankful for his love. I just wanted to see him again, and hug him again, and tell him one more time how much I love him." For some reason I thought I would have enough time to get there. I couldn't speak for a little while. All I could do was cry. I was so glad his suffering was over, but I was devastated. I was within hours of seeing him again and I missed the chance. I know we will be reunited one day. I know he is watching over me and the rest of our family, but I wanted the chance to say goodbye while he was still alive. I know it's selfish. He was struggling for each breath at the end, but it still hurts. My sister and I only have one living grandparent now. I wish I had valued the relationships with my grandparents more, cherished each moment with them as they were happening. I can't let myself get lost in woulda, coulda, shoulda, though, as easy as that would be. I'd rather get lost in gratitude.

I thank God for each moment I had with Grandpa. I'm glad I realized how much he loves me and how much I love him.  I'm thankful for his dedication to his family and his country, and for his love of farming. I'm grateful for his strength. He was a rock for his family. I'm profoundly grateful for the Christian legacy he left us. I am indebted to him for this. I'm so thankful that God put me in Grandpa's family. It's been good to be with family the last few days. I don't think I've ever appreciated them more than I have this past weekend.

I have reposted a couple of articles I posted last year when Grandpa was first admitted into the nursing home. This is a link to his obituary. I will be sharing a few words and singing "It is Well With My Soul" at the end of the funeral. I hope I have the composure to make it through. Please keep my family in your heart and prayers today. It will be a day of heartache and rejoicing.

Visiting Grandpa

*This is edited and reposted from the archives.

I went to visit my grandpa the first evening of his admission into the nursing home. I have to admit that I procrastinated as long as I reasonably could, afraid of what I would find, nervous that I would be alone. I had originally planned to bring the whole family, but Shawn and I decided that if Grandpa was really out of sorts that it would not be good for the kids to be there. Mom, Grandma, my aunt, and my uncle had left just before lunch, and I got there around 5:00 that evening. I'm not sure what he did in the intervening hours, but I think he may have been looking for a way home. An orderly escorted me to Grandpa's wing and told me that he had been wondering when someone would come to see him. When I got to him he had his hat and jacket on, ready to leave. He was standing at the nurses' station, holding his drivers license in his hand trying to get someone to help him go home.

He was not agitated, but he was upset, confused, and disoriented. He didn't recognize me. This was the first time that he didn't know who I am. He seemed to think that I was someone who worked at the facility, and that I would be able to take him home. He kept telling me over and over that he needed to get home and he appreciated that I was taking the time to listen to him. I had to slowly redirect him. I got him to talk about his time in the Navy, his father, his uncle, and I read Psalm 23 to him. Through the course of the conversation he started to calm down. We talked about who I am, and how I am related to him. Then they brought in his dinner tray. Before he started eating I got him to take off his hat and jacket, but he never seemed to resign himself to the idea that the bed on which he sat was now his.

I read Psalm 119 to him while he ate. Several times he would stop eating to listen. He seemed to be deeply moved by the passages. He asked me to repeat a few of them. He told me several times that there was something so special about God's Word, that it moved him in a way no other book could. I got him to tell me about the time he gave his heart to Christ. One thing I forgot to mention the other day is that my grandfather is long-winded. :) But honestly, I had forgotten about that particular trait. He has remained mostly silent when we've been together for so long that I forgot how much he can talk about one topic. (Or should I say preach?) In the past it really didn't take much to get him rolling. There was a running joke in my family that the food would be cold by the time Grandpa got done saying the blessing. I remember squirming through many blessings, waiting for Grandpa to finish so I could eat. The other night he seemed to be exceptionally long-winded. He kept repeating the same thing over and over, forgetting what he had just told me. It was good to hear him talk for so long about something again. A trait that for years had been an annoyance has become a blessing.

He never did fully recognize me. He understood who I was, but that understanding seemed to be only on an intellectual level. Yet I was still very blessed by the visit that I had dreaded. It was very upsetting to see how he was when I first got there, and there were several times I had to choke down the tears, but by the end of the visit I was so thankful for the priceless time we'd had. The Holy Spirit was in that room, and the three of us had a wonderful time together. Before I left I asked him if I could pray with him. He said he would love it if I prayed with him. I prayed for his peace of mind as he transitioned into his new home, yet in my heart I was still rebelling against the thought of him staying there one night, let alone many. He just doesn't seem to belong there. That is not his home. The people there are not his family. But I know that as hard as it is, it is for everyone's best.

Grandpa's Moving Day

*This is edited and reposted from the archives.

My grandfather has Alzheimer's/dementia. We have watched him deteriorate for several years now. It's like watching someone die, one memory, one character trait at a time. Before the onset of dementia, my grandfather was a strong, opinionated, stubborn, witty, funny man. He had, and still has, a strong faith that runs deep and influenced every choice he ever made. He isn't overly affectionate, but you know he loves you by the way his eyes light up when he sees you. From my memories, his great delight was his grandchildren, of which I was the first. He loved taking us for rides on the tractor, showing us the cows, or telling us stories of the gigantic snake that carved out the road the farm was on. My favorite part of that story was when the snake stopped by his house for a drink of water. He told us that story over and over again. Now when we get together as a family he mostly keeps to himself and stays quiet. Still at times he has amazing moments of clarity. At the last family reunion he told us about a rooster they once had that figured out how to jump up and knock food out of the bird feeder. He said, "That rooster was doing exactly what God designed it to do. He was taking care of his hens." I've been fortunate to have him only an hour's drive away most of my life so I've had many wonderful times with him.

The house he lived in was the house he grew up in. That house was as much a member of his family as my mother and grandmother. It was his constant worry and love. Not long after the onset of dementia he became extremely paranoid about the house -- that it would burn down or someone would break into it. He is leaving it today. Most likely he will never live there again.

Of course, the greatest love of his life, after Christ, is my grandmother. He was a hard man to live with, even before he became demented, but she faithfully loved him through the years. She is more intimately acquainted with his deterioration than any of the rest of us. She has had to put up with all the daily difficulties of his disease, and she has done so with dignity and grace. Her devotion to him has been flawless. She is my hero. I cannot imagine being in her shoes, watching the love of your life diminish in that way, the man you invested your life in slowly dying. Her kids have given her several opportunities to take some time away from grandpa. I can only imagine the mixed emotions she must feel in those times - relief to be away, guilt for feeling that way, anxiety for his well-being when she is not with him. And his devotion to her is just as binding. She is his security, his comfort. One weekend recently they were staying with my parents. The aggressive tendencies brought on by the disease had gotten to the point that my mom and her siblings were no longer comfortable with the idea of grandma being alone with him for more than a few hours, especially at night when he is most restless. My dad and grandfather were sitting in the living room and my mother and grandmother were in the dining room. Had he known where to look he would have been able to see her through the doorway from where he was sitting. He asked my dad where she was, and dad said she is right over there. He then said, "I don't want to live if I have to live without Carol." My grandmother has said that she would rather the Lord take grandpa on to heaven than to have to put him in a home. Today they will be parted. She will be with him as often as she can, of course, but they will most likely never be together in the same way again.

My mom and her brother and sister have done what they can to help grandma and grandpa through this time. They have supported them as much as they can and helped figure out the details of his care. I know that today is a very difficult day for my mom and I'm sure it is for her brother and sister as well. They are all going to the home with grandma and grandpa to help with his transition, though I'm sure none of them want to be there. I can't imagine the turmoil of watching one of your parents disintegrate in this way. I think the hardest thing of this for my mom has been seeing his mental deterioration while his body continues to be strong and healthy. Unfortunately this fact has made the need to put him into a long-term care facility inevitable. His body refuses to quit, even at the age of 86, but his mind has not withstood the passage of time so well. It has now gotten to the point that his needs are beyond my family's abilities to care for. So the fateful day has now arrived. The future means spending less and less time with him, and going to visit him in the nursing home with the noxious smells, and unnerving sights and sounds. I have many memories of visiting great grandparents in nursing homes, few of them pleasant.

I wish we could have grandpa back, the way he was five or ten years ago. I wish his mind had stayed as keen and strong as his body. I wish he could have died with dignity at home on the farm. But that simply isn't the reality. I cry and I grieve. I will move on. This Thanksgiving I am so thankful for the times I have had with my grandpa, even the difficult ones. I'm grateful for the investment he has made in my life. I'm grateful for the legacy of faith, love, and perseverance that he has passed on. I hope my life can be a tribute to his legacy.

My Gratitude Journal, Days 1-4

I have decided to start posting the contents of my gratitude journal, hopefully daily. Occasionally I may include a quote or scripture as well. I try to write an average of 10 blessings each day. I plan to go to 1000, but I anticipate that I won't stop there. So here are the contents thus far...

I've entitled it: "Things For Which I am Thankful or Ways That Jesus Loves Me"

6/21/11
       1.  Salvation

6/22/11  
       2.  Repentance and forgiveness
       3.  Blue orbs peeking out beneath spiraled blonde tendrils
       4.  The crocodile smile embracing the face of the first-born
       5.  The boy’s unabated curiosity 
       6.  The privilege to mother kids with special needs
       7.  The man with whom God has joined me 
       8.  Heaven’s great assembly—my FAMILY—cheering me on from Heaven’s
            grandstands. Lord, allow me not to disappoint. 
       9.  His grace, His strength, His breath, His beauty.
     10. Air’s substance filling my lungs

6/23/11 
     11.  The enablement of determination 
     12.  The curious mind of the seven-year-old and her eagerness to learn 
     13.  The crying eyes that seek me out for comfort 
     14.  Eighteen-inch arms that wrap me in a tight embrace 
     15.  Blue eyes with short, sometimes spikey, hair that shine with pride over 
            accomplishments small and great. 
     16.  My husband’s leadership into this next phase of our journey 
     17.  The changes that will take place during this next phase 
     18.  Renewing minds, cleansing Word water, changed hearts 
     19.  Four-legged tail-wagger that starts each day with her eager greeting 
     20.  Gentle purrs from the soft, black-as-night kitten 
     21.  Silly Bandz on the floor—each a uniquely shaped footprint—each a 
            reminder of the beautiful little lives sleeping aloft 
     22.  The charger plug that keeps falling out of the back of my computer—a 
            reminder that I have a laptop computer that needs to be plugged in. 
6/24/11
     23.  The discovery and implementation of this gratitude journal 

     24.  Little man’s good-morning cuddles 
     25.  How smoothly the packing has gone so far for this move 
     26.  The chance to live a God story 
     27.  Clean, folded, and put away laundry 
     28.  The father of my children 
     29.  The power of life in the seed 
     30.  Big girl’s easy ability in friend-making 
     31.  Curly girly’s uncanny talent for sleep

"God's finger can touch nothing but to mold it into loveliness.  "

~ George MacDonald

Learning to Live a God Story

I can’t believe it’s almost here. Two more days… Two more days. It’s been difficult to watch my life be packed away, one box at a time. Rooms that were once filled are now emptied caverns, echoing with the memories of days past. A simple sign placed in the yard, "For Sale", the signal to all that we're living in someone else's home. And now the tears that have been held back for months fall – warm, wet kisses on my cheeks.

The purging and packing has been good for us. We’ve reduced the quantity of extra baggage, unneeded things, parts of our lives that once were, but are no longer. I had a four-drawer file cabinet that was completely full that I was able to reduce to one file box. Ten years ago it seemed necessary to keep every article I had photocopied for grad school research papers. Ten years… really? I’m not sure what’s worse, that it’s been 10 years, or that I held onto that stuff, that clutter, that chaos, those space bandits, for 10 years.

A new life will begin soon; one that, frankly, scares me. We will be living in a new place. A place largely unfamiliar. Once again we must change our address and go through the rigors of procuring a new church home, doctors, a dentist, an optometrist, library cards, places to shop for healthy, wholesome foods, IEPs, advocates, therapists... The list seems as long as a country road.

We will be consolidating from a wonderful, spacious house to two bedrooms, one bath, a living area, spare room, and kitchenette in a finished basement. A sacrifice for the future. A way to ease the transition. A temporary stop on a journey to our new home. For a (hopefully short) time we will no longer be living autonomously, but will be sharing space at the charity of my in-laws. I am so grateful for their generosity in this, but I now realize how I’ve taken our house and this little community for granted. I know now that I haven’t truly appreciated it, haven’t truly been thankful for the gracious gift from our Father. And, I wasn’t done with it… I had plans – plans for a wonderful garden, beautiful renovations, needed improvements. But God has said, “Not now. Not here.” I am so thankful for the time He has given us here, for His provision, for the memories made here. So it is with gratitude that I will move on.

Honestly, though, there is some trepidation about sharing space, living in someone else’s house. Our personalities have been known to clash – a human grappling for control that often seems so necessary in the moment, but in reality is an attempt to usurp God’s authority, to live our own stories rather than His story. I recently heard Todd Nighswonger of Cornerstone Community Church in Simi Valley, CA say, “The greatest way to be shaped by the renewing of your mind…is living among people that you don’t get along with well.” I know God will work through these relationships to strengthen all of us and to make us more like Him.

But, what scares me most? Daily life without my husband for 12 hours a day, 5 days a week. I love, and I have taken advantage of him working from home for the last couple of years. To have his presence, his stability, his help at home has been such an amazing blessing. That he will be traveling four hours a day is unnerving. So much could happen. I long for his safety. To spend those twelve hours a day while taking care of the kids and the home, while homeschooling our three children is terrifying. Yes, I know many women do it daily, but just like everyone else, I am myself with my unique challenges. I know how poorly I’ve handled his occasional absences in the past, and now he will be away from home more than he is at home, during the waking hours at least. He’ll be gone 60 hours a week, asleep for 56, leaving 52 hours out of 168 to be with us. I know how I have handled things in the past, and I don’t want to continue with that conduct in the future.

But this new venture is not without hope. God has told me, “Fear not. Only have faith.” He has said that this is an opportunity to learn to rely on Him as I never have before, to learn how to stand on my knees. Frank Bishoff, the pastor at the church we’ve been attending for the last few weeks, Awaken City Church (another refreshing stop on a long journey), spoke a couple of weeks ago about living out of a revelation of how much Jesus loves us rather than striving to live a godly life because of how much we love Jesus. Sound simple? What’s the difference? Really it’s a profound, life-changing difference. If you live out of a revelation of His love for you, you will have true freedom and your love for Him will be effortless. In my own life I have struggled with God’s love for me, and have striven to live a godly life out of my own strength, out of my finite love. I want to learn how to let His infinite love become the foundation and strength of my love for Him. I want to walk in the revelation of how much God loves me. I have recently come across Ann Voskamp’s blog A Holy Experience, and book, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are. Already I am approaching this move with a different attitude than I would have in the past. Both, Frank’s sermon, and Ann’s testimony, have convicted me that I need to begin keeping a gratitude journal in which I write down thanks to God for all the ways He shows me that He loves me.

I love it when God speaks the same thing to me over and over again from several different channels. Perhaps I’m too dense to listen at first so that He needs to repeat things to me until I start to pay attention, but I love the sound of the echo of His voice in the voices of His children. The Bible says that His voice is like the sound of many rushing waters. You know the sound of a large crowd saying the same thing in unison? That is like the sound of His voice. We, His children, are His voice in the earth, speaking together as with one voice as the Spirit directs.

So, I have heard His voice, and I am taking to heart the love message delivered. I have begun my gratitude journal. Even now I can feel my attitude changing. I am little by little seeing things from the positive, beautiful angle. My tendency is toward pessimism. But I’m learning to see through the lens of the half-full glass. Again, it seems so simple. But really, it is so very profound.

I have no doubt that I will encounter many difficulties as we move and take residence in our new life. Yet, I know that with God all things are possible. I know that His plans are to give me a hope and a future, and to prosper me in all areas of my life. I know He has many things for me to learn, many ways for me to grow, many ways for me to change. I know He is preparing us for an amazing future and a wonderful present. To quote Master Oogway, “The past is history, the future is a mystery, but today is a gift – that’s why they call it ‘the present.’” I’m finally learning how to be content with what God has given me now instead of focusing on the things I do not have or betting on a future that I assume will be better. I am learning to truly accept everything life brings me, both “the good” and “the bad”, knowing that what we assume to be good is not always good, nor is what we assume to be bad always indeed bad. Often the blessings of God are a double-edged sword and the goodness does not always reveal itself at first glance. We have to search out the true good. We have to learn to hone our focus and filter out the superfluity of distractions the enemy of our souls throws along the path to trip us up.

So why is God doing this for me? So my life can be more blessed? So I can be happier? No! It’s so I can become a better teller of His story with my life. The blessings and happiness are side effects to His grace working and moving in my life. I can read tons of books, listen to sermons and worship music 24 hours a day, seven days a weeks, 365 days a year, and never really change. Change must come from within, through the inner workings of the Holy Spirit from my heart, into my thoughts, and out through my life, my hands, my feet, my mouth. Now, I gladly take His hand and walk with Him along this path on this phase of my life’s journey, the journey of transforming my life into a God story.

In Sight of Beauty

Dear Father,

You messed up my plans this morning. My first plan was to sleep. I have a big day ahead of me, a day in which I must have strength, energy, and alertness. But, at 4:00 this morning I was awakened for no apparent reason. Though I tried to return to sleep, it has been evasive. I must now rely on You, Dear Father, for the physical, mental, and spiritual strength to carry on today.

When sleep eluded me, I decided to research some of the things I've learned in the past two days, things that will have a profound impact on my family. Instead, you lead me here, and I wept. I confessed. I repented. I prayed.

You stirred up the desire within to hear Beethoven's "Moonlight Sanata". I listened, and I wept. I was convicted, my heart caught in the web of your gentle grace and love.

I have avoided You of late. For that my heart is in sorrow. It is to You alone I must cling, in You alone I must hope, for You alone I must live. Yet in recent months it is myself for which I have lived. I have allowed my vulnerability to be hidden, my heart to be masked by a lack of discipline. I have confessed and repented over and over again, yet closeness has remained elusive, and I have been at a loss as to why. But this morning You gently chastise and show that there is no one thing or time that was the beginning of the slipping. I simply allowed myself to be lead away and enticed by the lack of discipline that so easily entangles. I have drifted away from You on a sea of distractions, deceptions, and misplaced priorities.

The husband You placed in my arms, for whom I have been ungrateful, of whom I have taken advantage is now awake. It is now time to remove the ear buds and allow myself to be surrounded by the haunting melody, my entire being embraced by the music, my heart enchanted by Your grace and mercy. Let it wash and refresh me as it carries the Blood of Forgiveness to my heart. Now the Hand of Your Spirit gently scrubs away the filth, the death, the sin, and resurrects me once again.

I'm sorry I allowed myself to drift away from You. It wasn't fully intentional, but in honesty I must also admit that neither was it entirely unintentional. I became afraid of the closeness and allowed myself to take one step backward, then another and another. My eyes were still set on You at first, but somehow, without even being fully aware of what I was doing, I turned aside. Not 180 degrees away. I had allowed my course to become parallel to Yours, and I could still hear Your voice giving direction, yet my course was no longer Yours--not really. I continue to receive Your confirmations that, again by Your grace alone, the big decisions made in the last few months have been the right decisions. But I don't want to walk in these new adventures without holding Your hand, without feeling Your heartbeat, without hearing Your breath.

Bring me back to the closeness with You I once knew, and even beyond. Let me ever be diligent and alert to my missteps. Forgive me for allowing myself to be so undisciplined and for taking You, and those You have placed in my life, for granted. Thank You for leading me in spite of myself. Thank You for giving me exactly what and who I need in my life. Thank You for graciously loving me despite my ingratitude and complacency. Thank You for the path of conviction and repentance that lead to righteousness. Thank You for showing me how to slow down this morning and breathe in the intimate details of life. Let me ever live in the sight of Your grace, in the sight of Your live, in the sight of Your beauty.

It is in the Name of

Your beloved Son, Jesus Christ, that I humbly and boldly ask these things.
Amen.