I'm fighting a heroin addiction.

I'm fighting a heroin addiction and I've never stuck a needle in my arm, between my toes, or anywhere else on my body. You see, I am the sibling of an addict. You don't hear about me on the news. You don't read about me in the paper. And, quite frankly, I'm not quick to share with you because I'm consumed with so much shame that isn't mine to carry. You see, suddenly, the world is speaking of this addiction but I've been living the headlines for years. Before it was an epidemic, before it made its way onto the front page of your papers, it was the front page of my life. As a matter of fact, the headlines changed with the current events. From cigarettes, to beer, to marijuana, to prescription pills taken from cabinets, to drugs I am so unaware of that I cannot even list. My brother's heroin addiction is not my story to tell. But, what I've learned over the years, my story as a sister to an addict is equally important. I am worthy of telling my story.

Broken. Addicts are broken. We, addicts or not, are all broken. Hurt people, hurt people. The wounds of living with a drug addict are deep. When I believe the wound has healed in my adulthood, my adult brother, in his disease, finds a way to tear the scab off in his desperation for the next high and the infection seeps from the old wound. Far removed. Miles away. Years later. It still seeps. Counseling. Self-help books, self-coping, and every other avenue under the sun to cope....leaving me a at a place of realization that the only thing a sibling of an addict has the control to do is take control of myself.

I cannot force my hope for who I wish my brother would be on him in hopes that he will change. We passed that years ago. I cannot explain to my own children who are surprised to learn that I have a brother, why they do not know him.

I cannot reconcile the hurt, the pain, the disappointment and the infection that the disease of drug addiction has on the family of an addict.

I cannot pretend that this piece of my story doesn't exist any longer.

What I can say is that Christ wastes nothing and will work all things according to His purposes for those who love Him. I do not know the future of my brother's soul. But, I do know the revelation the Holy Spirit has provided me in the midst of such pain, such misery, such suffering. I do know the freedom of breaking the bondage of shame by bringing it into the light and being vulnerable enough to say, "Yes! Hello! My name is Jenny and my brother is a convicted felon, a heroin addict and so broken it ripes my heart from my chest. Over, and over and over again."

That alone is only the tip of the iceberg. One cannot begin to know whats buried under the water, unless you yourself are connected to an addict. In my very broken, imperfect journey to truly beginning a relationship with Christ, I made and still make many mistakes. I am so thankful being addicted to drugs is not one of them.

It's not that my brother cannot stop doing drugs, but that he has NOT stopped yet. He has hit below the rock bottom of our wildest imagination. But, yet somehow, the fear of sitting with his sober self is more terrifying than the life he lets feed his addiction. His soul is so broken that he is willing, at all costs, to feed his addiction.

In high school, I experienced first hand living under the same roof as my brother, the wreckage that follows the unforgiving storm of addiction that can destroy everything in its path. At that point in my life I was so angry with God. I found comfort, a healthy distraction and some success in soccer. I began to pour my whole self into soccer. Soccer was my escape. But, God's plan for my future looked different than my own. I was determined to get a scholarship to play at a college in Ohio so my parents could travel to my games. After beginning to chase hard after this dream, at 15, I tore my ACL and had reconstructive surgery on my left knee. After months of rehabilitating, so eager to compete again, in a meaningless indoor match, I tore my right ACL. I knew instantly when it happened. I chose to accept it, have surgery to repair the damaged cartilage but not the damaged ligament. I played my senior year with a torn ACL in hopes of fulfilling my dream to still have the chance to play college ball. By the end of my senior season, my dreams of playing in college were as shredded as the ligament inside my knee shown on the MRI. My knees were done. My hope was lost.

At 18 years old, through a divine interruption, God changed the course of my forever by literally picking me up and moving me 12 hours away from the shame I was carrying in a small town where everyone knew who my brother was and for all the wrong reasons. Little did I understand at the time that losing my ability to play soccer enabled me to expand my realm of possibilities for college and changed the course of my future.

Even though God had already set into motion his plans to deliver me from the weight of the burden I felt being affected daily by my brother's addiction, I was angry, lost and no longer a part of a team. I no longer had my escape, my peaceful place, my field of dreams. So, now far from home where no one knew me, I no longer felt the need to be perfect. I no longer felt the immense pressure I put on myself to not bring any more shame upon my parents. Not having a team, a dream to chase or soccer practice to keep me focused, I decided that the whole God thing wasn't really working for me anymore. I stopped seeking Him and starting searching for fun. Thankfully, God is gracious, patient, and relentlessly pursued me until I returned to Him my junior year of college. I am forever grateful for friends who loved me at my worst and wouldn't allow me to forget the God who was desperately chasing my heart.

I share this piece of my story because now with hindsight, I know God split the sea so I could walk right through it. He delivered me from my own Egypt. My own slavery of bondage to the chains and the shame of my brother's addiction in a small town where everyone knew. And, even when I lost myself in the process and turned my back on Christ, He never left me.

I have carried the burden, the regret, the shame, the brokenness, and the hurt of his addiction for 20 years. Very recently, I laid it down at the feet of Christ. I did not let it go. I laid it down. I surrendered. I cannot fix him. I cannot wish him into being the brother I hoped for. I cannot allow my hope for who I wish my brother was to cloud the reality of who my brother actually is in his addiction. So where does that leave me? How do I proceed as an adult now, when my brother is still stuck ?! My heart hurts for him but, I realize that His brokenness is not mine to mend. My heart hurts accepting that what I so desperately want to change, I cannot. His brokenness, truly, is no greater than mine. However, in our brokenness, our choices to seek righteousness are. It's one thing to be sober, it's another to be saved. In the midst of the intense, unimaginable grip of addiction is also the reality that one must be slightly insane to fuel a dark pit with such a great cost.

Rock bottom is often the catalyst for change. In his brokenness, my brother endured a pistol wiping, which I'm sure was drug related, so badly that he was in an ICU for 2 weeks and a nursing home for an entire YEAR. However, the trajectory of his path has not changed. Insanity settles when hope is lost but behavior does not change. How can one's soul choose such darkness over the painful rawness of sitting with a sober self? I do not know. What I do know is that we are all broken. We all have our issues, our burdens, our fears, and our hopes. What I'm learning is that his shame is not my cross to carry. Jesus already paid it all for him should He choose to receive it. He is also not mine to fix or have anxiety and depression over. In my suffering of being the sibling of a heorin addict, Christ has shown me mercy in my own failures, my own sins and my own shame.

And, as I said, He has also shown me that just as my brother is not mine to fix, AND He is no longer mine to judge. (He never was..but I happily assumed that role). Christ is showing me that in all of this, it is my responsibility to do my part to ensure that I am not allowing the cycle to continue. That I am not sitting around waiting for divine intervention to come while I sit in a pew with my arms crossed. I refuse to be like the man at the Pool of Bethesda. In John 5:3 we read, "In these lay a great multitude of sick people, blind, lame, paralyzed, waiting for the moving of the water. For an angel went down at a certain time into the pool and stirred up the water; then whoever stepped in first, after the stirring of the water, was made well of whatever disease he had. Now a certain man was there who had an infirmity of thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he already had been in the condition a long time, he said to him, "Do you want to be made well?" The sick man answered, "Sir I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; but while I am coming, another steps down before me." Jesus said to him, "Rise, take your bed and walk. And immediately the man was made well, took up his bed, and walked."

38 years lying besides a pool of healing and waiting for someone to MOVE wasn't working! Christ came and said, RISE! Get up! Take your mat and be healed.

In the text of the serenity prayer that most of us know is,

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

The courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference."

But, what many of us do not know is the rest of the prayer.....

Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,
Taking, as Jesus did,
This sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it,
Trusting that You will make all things right,
If I surrender to Your will,
So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with You forever in the next.
Amen.

So, in my own brokenness from living as a sibling of someone suffering from the disease of addiction, at 34 years old, I surrender. I cannot fix, change or redo the past. All I can do is have the courage to change my role in the future of my brother's life. It isn't easy, but we were never promised easy. I truly believe nothing is wasted, if you know Christ.

My freedom from his heroin addiction doesn't begin with him. It begins with me. Is there pain? Yes. Will there be pain in breaking free? Yes! But, I now have the courage to change the things, in my control, that should be changed. Shame no longer has a grip on me. This is my story. Because he is a heroin addict, I'm fighting the addiction, too. Whether I like it or not, needles in my arm or not, this is the story I've been handed. But, it is up to me to choose the ending for my own self, not for him. At 34 years old, I've finally realized the only thing I am able to do is take responsibility for what I can do. Surrender. Surrender all. The shame, the anger, the un-forgiveness, the brokenness, the regret, the embarrassment, the fault, the false hope, and the idea that I can will myself into fixing anyone.

So before stepping up to the plate of change, I kneel at the throne and receive restoration for myself, and the hope for my future because I know Christ's plans are good.

I see myself in the paralyzed man at the Pool of Bethesda or like the paralyzed man in Matthew 9 that Jesus spoke to. I hear him telling me true change can only come with faith AND action. Matthew 9:4 says, "Which is easier: to say your sins are forgiven, or to say, "Get up and walk? ...So he said to the paralyzed man, Get up, take your mat and go home.Then the man got up and went home. When the crowd saw this, they were filled with awe: and they praised God, who had given such authority to man."

Today I chose to share this story with you not so you can think highly of me or feel pity on me, but so that you can see the great GLORY of God in the midst of the mess. And, to know that if you too are walking through the awful grip of an addiction yourself, or a loved one, you too, can rise, pick up your mat and receive the healing and forgiveness that can restore your wounded soul.

Irritable Mom, to Intentional Mom: A Shift in Perspective

Weekends during deer season have always been a bit bittersweet for me. Sweet in that my husband, who loves to hunt, adores this time of year. But, for me, it left me home alone on the weekends for many Saturdays and various other early mornings or late afternoons throughout the season. This girl truly does not mind a quiet house but week after week it started to weigh heavy on me. Instead of celebrating with him when he had a great story to share of the next deer for the freezer I started to resent the whole thing.

Dove Season

All the while, I watched as my husband was diligent to share his love of the outdoors with our sons, meaning sacrificing many hunting opportunities to instead sit in a deer stand with a symphony of snack wrappers opening and the echoes of curiosity in loudly whispered voices - filled with questions from little boys. His love was becoming their love, time together in the woods.

Meanwhile, in my moments of "Deer Depression", I realized I could only appreciate so many solo trips to the store, quiet moments at home, coffee dates with girlfriends or even an occasional pedicure while the boys were out in the woods. Eventually the wonder of having free moments to myself after years of baby wearing (literally) faded away quickly. While I still love time for myself, my greater desire is to spend time with my family and create memories that my sons can carry with them when I'm no longer their "go to" person in life.

My seven year old's window is already beginning to narrow for that very special time in life when it is me, his mom, who (in his eyes) knows most of the answers to his questions and is right up there in ranks with his Pokemon cards, Magic Treehouse Books and all things sugar coated. But, I know the day is coming when those cards and books are gathering dust on the shelf as he moves on to another stage of life...a stage where instead of his mom knowing the answers to his questions, I will be the mom who doesn't understand and who isn't fair.

Something has changed. I can't quite describe it or exactly put my finger on specifically when it happened. I've switched from the irritable mom to the intentional mom. From the resentful wife to the repentful wife. Time is too precious to be wasted in anger.

With that change, I'm learning to offer myself as a willing participant in hobbies once unimaginable to me because of my unconditional love for them. And you know what, the strangest thing has occurred, when I began investing my whole self in their interests, slowly, over time, and quite honestly, by the Holy Spirit alone, their interests have become my interests! But, let's be honest, this isn't about time in the woods, hunting, or fast boy toys to find mud...it's about spending time with the ones I love. If I have to meet them in the mud to do it, wait a minute while I get my boots.

Who knew polished nails and pistols go together?! Hunter Boots can actually be worn by hunters?! Camo can be classy and this mom of boys can learn new tricks for the sake of my love for my family.

I love being a mom of boys. Sure, there is definitely a piece of me that would love to experience bows, dolls and maybe dare I say, the American Doll Store. However, God saw it fit to give me bows & arrows, decoys and The Bass Pro Shop.

I'm done fighting it. I've surrendered all and have been surprised to discover how much I, too, enjoy it. Not because of what we are doing but because who I am doing it with.

My unexpected passion for the outdoors reminds me a lot of my relationship with Christ. He has done unimaginable works in my life that at times leave me lacking words to explain. The more I offer all that I am to Him, the more I see myself falling in love with the plans He has for me, even if at one time they were unimaginable . Because of my desire to have a relationship with Christ, I'm willing to go for a walk in the woods or have a seat in a deer stand if that is where He is asking me to go.

After the First Day Fades

Summer 2005 - Moving into my 1st Grade classroom
My parents asked for this Photo Op for old times sake in the midst of moving in.

After literally a lifetime preparing and dreaming of my own classroom, the highly anticipated first day of school had finally arrived. I had planned, prepped and romanticized about how perfectly executed our storybook first day would go! All those starry- eyed childhood playdates filled with pretend curriculum and makeshift summer classrooms on front porches; with stuffed animals, had not prepared me for real students who acted their age, with real tears, real potty accidents, and oh no...who gave them scissors on the first day of school?!

This is a picture from my second year teaching in 2006. This class was very special to me as they played the hand bells in our wedding when I came down the aisle.

Somehow in all my dreaming, it had not included a precious, albeit too curious, first grade boy experimenting with his brand new school supplies - scissors - on his neighbor's beautiful hair! College did not prepare me for that phone call. My degree did not teach me that young children can mistake an Elmer's glue stick for a Push Pop Lollipop and that said teacher would be the one helping get glue out of their teeth in the midst of wiping tears, bottoms and noses while consoling the homesick, the happy and the hog wild on the first day of school. Oh, and what did the principal think I was going to do with those super detailed, A+, professor approved, neatly printed lesson plans? Those went straight in the trash can after that first day!

My lesson plans did not account for the scared parents who were nervous to hand their most precious treasure over to a brand new teacher. No practicum experience taught me how to manage the end of the day dismissal and a little boy's bathroom emergency where he would not exit to restroom and I had 25 six year olds to get to their busses by myself. My schema had no prior knowledge of the parents who seemed to be so uninterested in their child's wellbeing little lone their education. College did not prepare me for the tears streaming down a homesick child's face who found comfort under her desk and would not come out. I wanted to join her and I'm certain that after school when the classroom was empty (much like my energy reserves) it seemed like a perfectly good option to me, as well! To me, the hardest part of the first day of school was the realization that I had to get up and do it all over again the next day!!

That day in late August, no textbook, student teaching, or years of dreaming could prepare this girl for - the first day- in MY own classroom several years ago. Truth be told, I cried just like the children and their parents that first day of school, not under my desk, but after school across the hall to Betsey, who became my mentor and "framily" (A friend who is like family). You see this friendship was solidified when the above mentioned little boy needed assistance in the bathroom and 25 other students needed to hold my hand to get to the bus. At this moment, I sure wished there had been about 10 other teachers' names on the classroom door, but alas, there was only mine! I called for assistance across my outdoor portable classroom walkway to Betsey who had her own classroom of new first graders. The difference was she had several years of experience and a student teacher. She came to my rescue that day and many, many, others since. She gave me so much grace that first year (as did the parents) and I truly did, as they say, "Fake it until you make it" and believed myself into being a REAL teacher with REAL students. The truth is where experience was lacking love bridged the gap. I loved those children. I loved their families. And, most days, I loved my job teaching them.

So on this dark, rainy, third day of school in our district, I say to parents and teachers alike, WE CAN DO THIS! Even now, the first day of school usually throws a curve ball or two in my preschool classroom or with my own children as I take them off to their new classrooms! Now I get to be the scared mom who is afraid to let go!

However, over the years, thankfully I have realized that it isn't just my name on the class assignments or hanging from the door. I have also realized that I am not sending my own children "off into the world" when I feel anxious about letting them go embark on a new year. So where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth. He is the author and perfecter of plans and His purposes are my guide. I think he has a pretty big sense of humor, as He and I walk through some of the very unpredictable scenarios that young children give us! God, the creator of the all things, cares about the details. He cares about the first days, the last days and each one in-between. He has gone before us to prepare the way. It is our job to recognize the strength we have as Christians because Christ, the great I Am, lives in us! His power is in us.

This morning at 4:00 AM when sleep would not come, the rain did. I started thinking of all the teachers, children and parents waking up to this rainy third day of school in our district. I thought about how just enough time has passed from the first day of school to realize now on day three, that there are 177 more wake ups, rush out the door and hit the ground running hard-all-day until next Summer. For parents like me, the hot breakfasts stopped yesterday for my kids and the cereal made a grand entrance this morning! The newness has already started to fade and the routine is forming.

I have learned quite a few things over the years as a teacher and as a parent. I am thankful to realize that these take aways apply to both:

There is so much that I do not know but God has equipped me with what I need today.
Love can bridge gaps, when years of experience lack. You have to LOVE them before you can TEACH them!
There will be curve balls! So put on your Catcher's Mitt and don't be surprised when it comes!
Never say never.
Be prepared for future funny stories to be born out of First Day experiences.... Please note, it will not be funny on the first day, haha!

What does all of this mean for you? Teacher or not, whether you have children or you yourself are back to school or starting a new job, first days come with an array of emotion. They can be exciting, unpredictable, filled with nerves, anticipation and jitters! But, usually our adrenaline carries us through the rollercoaster of feelings that fill that first day. However, it's day 2, day 3, day 53, and so on, that in all honesty ARE so much more difficult than the first. When anticipation and adrenaline have fleeted, and we are left with facing the repetition of tomorrow, I pray that God purposes the path before you and faith carries you through the realness of routine.

A little glimpse of my first two years teaching 1st grade....

I loved these children and they learned to love me back! Together, we learned a lot! They are young adults preparing to head off to college and beyond - which makes me feel so unbelievably old.

Before we were engaged and long before we were married, Rob would come and read to my classes.

The most amazing volunteer and friend a girl could ask for, Ms. Donna!

My 2nd year teaching 1st grade. My husband, Rob, proposed to me this school year. These precious children were in our wedding. They played "Cannon in D" as I came down the aisle. I will always and forever be grateful to our music teacher at that school, my friend, Michelle Funderburk.

Back to School

Second Grade Jenny - Just had finished a long summer of teaching stuffed animals and baby dolls.

End of Summer. It's the season of freshly sharpened pencils, 50 cent boxes of crayons, crisp folders and fresh starts. For some, it is a time of new clothes, new shoes, new dreams and new possibilities. For others, it is a reminder of what they go without, dreams that seem out of reach and a return to the building that makes them feel so out of place.

Whether teacher, administrator, student or parent, this new year brings with it the opportunity to choose the course in which we will walk.

It is a choice each day to pick up the baggage of the past, of lies we tell ourselves, or of past mistakes we have made. Or, a choice to suit up in the armor of who God says we are as we make our way into the world each day.

As I prepare for my preschoolers to return, many back to school memories have flooded my mind. My first year teaching was spent in a portable "learning cottage" about a half of a mile away from the front office. I had too much passion and enthusiasm to realize how much I didn't know. In the 12 years since then, I have spent 7 years in public school, 2 as a stay at home mom and am now entering my fourth year in a private preschool and kindergarten. The biggest change as I enter my classroom, still filled with passion and enthusiasm, is that I now realize how much I don't know.

That first year in the classroom I was filled so much hope in what my children would accomplish, do and become..that perhaps some of the "good" that inflated my dreams, also inflated my head.

I realize that there are strategies, research theories and instructional models that I don't know. Every day I am learning new ways to reach children and partner with parents. I look everywhere for inspiration, research and diligence on ways to teach children and touch lives. However, that is not my sole focus.

Not only does each little person who walks into my room carry a story with them, but so does the teacher next door, across the hall, in the office and around the school. It is easy to lose sight of the community around us when we are solely focused on building the community within our own room.

So, go on, get out of your comfort zone and go love on the new teacher, the mean teacher, the hurting teacher, the awkward teacher, the janitor, the bookkeeper who always reminds you that you didn't fill out the form correctly, the lunch lady, the teacher who yells, the teacher who is sick, the teacher who you love to dislike, the teacher who intimidates you, all of them, those people, whether they know it or not, "those people" who were created in Christ's image just like yourself!

As Christian's we are called to resist satan and sometimes forget that also means to resist acting like him! Let us not be called into the profession of education as ambassadors of Christ and act so un-Christ like.

Because, if we are truly trying to follow Him, our life should speak a language of love. Love one another as He has loved us. Even if that means change or challenge or discomfort.
Now, go get your coffee and get busy changing the world, influencing the future and loving your neighbor.

Guest Blogger- Brooke French

Dog Days of Summer

Originally posted July 26, 2016 by:Brooke French

Ya’ll, Am I the only one struggling with the last weeks of summer? The heat is blazing, the pool and ocean feel more like bath water, work is still buzzing along and the kids are mildly irritable due to the lack of routine. Honestly, I am also a little sad that summer is almost over too. Is it just me? Surely, I hope not. I know I like structure, but I was really planning on a restful, renewing and fun filled summer.

You know the type of summer I am talking about.. beautiful scenery, relaxing beach reads, kids frolicking in the sand, laughing joyfully at each others’ jokes. Husbands and wives taking late evening strolls by the beach, discussing their hopes and dreams, all the while lovingly gazing in each other’s eyes. And let us not forget the balance of school readiness and extracurricular activities to boast about when the kids get asked.. Did you go anywhere this summer? What did you do? Any fun camps? What neat experiences did you have this summer? Oh the writing prompts, they will be prepared for when they return to school.

Insert Kids are snappy, staying up late, and chaotic, at best, in their thinking and relating to everyone. There is a lot of repeating from mom- “clean up the mess, please don’t climb on that, please give me 5 minutes, no- I do not want to start a craft project 5 minutes before we are out the door, oh you need to upload another video to another mildly inappropriate song, oh wait- you’re bored!” Mom and Dad are exhausted because- the kids. They stay up late too with the kids, but they still have to wake up in the morning because jobs. Money is literally being sprayed out the window between groceries, camps, and fun excursions. And you know that amazing summer vacation that you dreamed about in May; well, it turned into a little field trip because traveling with kids, is a field trip. All the while, the school readiness is about as crisp as those cute, unopened teaching workbooks you bought from Amazon. Bless…

Please know that they were fighting prior, during and after this picture was taken. They were also angry about how fast the ice cream was melting.

Who is with me? Please tell me I am not alone!

Then after all this exhaustion and spiraling, I tend to let guilt and shame creep in. I create a list in my head of the “shoulds” and “could haves”. I should have read 20 minutes everyday with my children, we should have had more fun this summer, we could havetaken more selfies at all our fun excursions (Costco & Target) and posted it on IG because #bestsummerever. So then, shame reminds me that I lost my patience daily, I locked myself in the bathroom sometimes two to three times daily just to get PEACE and I spent way too much time on social media. Social media encourages me to not only feel guilty and bad about my own parenting choices, it also allows me to compare my #bummersummer with everyone else’s beautiful vacations, happy days and smiling faces. Read–worst idea EVER!

It is silly really because the day to day stuff is real life. Somewhere along the way, we have let the world tell us that our lives have to be big, powerful and extravagant to mean something. We think our daily lives with our children, family & friends need to be full of powerful and impactful moments.

Can I just preach for a minute…? That is not real life. I am constantly telling my daughter that her Disney shows, Netflix movies and Youtube videos are not real life. I want her to know that a real boyfriend doesn’t have to choose between you and the other cute girl in a funny 30 minute episode. She needs to know that real, true friendships encourage and lift each other up .

I think that is what our Heavenly Father wants us to know today. Ladies, that idea we have in our head of summer, back to school or of a perfect home.. is not real life. God cups our sweet, beautiful, tired faces in His hands and says -“My sweet, sweet child, why are you working so hard to cultivate unrealistic expectations? That is not the life I have created for you”. The real life for us is in the tears when we mess up. It is in the grace we give ourselves after we yell again. Real life is found in the frowny faces and whiney, homebound days. Our God wants to be invited into the details of our days. We learn how to love and extend grace in those dog days of summer. God is in the details of our daily lives. He sees our messy houses, our bank accounts, our dreams, and our love for our family and Him. His love never changes! There is nothing we can do to make Him love us less and nothing we can do to make Him love us more.

Rest in that today and in the coming weeks. Let’s let go of what we think should be and truly embrace what is. There are gifts here in real life planted for us from Our Heavenly Father. Let us not miss those gifts, being stuck on what’s missing.

To read more from today's guest blogger, Brooke French, please visit her blog here.

Stale Clothes

From the back seat of the car I hear, "Mama, something stinks!" As a mom of boys, I assume its just par for the usual course this particular morning en route to summer extracurriculars. However, we are in a hurry, always, so I don't have time to examine this proclamation from the back seat. I quickly attribute it to the usuals: my two precious boys who STINK and put everything in their pockets including the once living & now very unfortunate small creatures, as well as, once edible food. I also thought it may be another tale of "What is hiding under the seats?" Old banana? Dirty socks...or worse?!

We had a schedule to keep and I was desperate to get to the gym after being out of town for a long weekend with no exercise! Besides, I didn't really notice any menacing aromas.

After getting the children to their destinations, I made my way to the gym. I was headed to one of my favorite group cardio classes, which also happens to be a favorite for many people at the gym! It is always very crowded. Immediately, when I walked into the aerobics room, an unfavorable smell hit me! As the class went on, and the sweat was pouring throughout the room like a water park, I determined in my mind who was the exceptionally fragrant culprit! Fortuitously, the stinky individual was located in the proximity of my personal space! A narrative started in my head and I began to feel a little sorry for this smelly athlete. It became a huge distraction to me during the class. The longer I allowed the dialogue to go on in my mind, the stronger the smell became.

At the top of the hour, after finishing the class, I made a fast exit to escape the aroma of the aerobics room on a sweltering summer day! An aerobics room that has had A/C problems ALL summer. No A/C and lots of sweaty people are never a good combination.

With to-do list in mind, I jumped in the car and headed towards home to grab a quick shower. And...there it was...the awful, lingering, fragrance of yuck!! There it was- me, the car and the smell. That is when God did, what God does. He brought to mind the gym clothes I packed for my extremely quick weekend away. The gym clothes that I pulled from the dryer that were only about 80% dry. Dry enough to put in the suitcase for the flight, but wet enough to think I may need to rewash them when I arrived at my parents home in Ohio. The day I left for my weekend away was consistent with my life. I was in a hurry and I didn't have anymore time to wait on the dryer. I packed my good intentions of going to the gym while out of town but never actually made it there!

When I arrived back to South Carolina, I catapulted back into our busy routine. I was in a rush to squeeze in a fleeting opportunity to fit in a quick work out. Despite having a closet full of gym clothes, while unpacking my suitcase, I decided to put on the untouched, clean gym clothes in front of me - fully forgetting about the backstory behind them. The strange thing is that there was never an alarming or unpleasant aroma in my suitcase. But, let me assure you, by the time I was enlightened to the aroma of the once damp clothes I was wearing, God dealt with my spirit!

Apparently, my nose deceived me just as I am able to deceive myself when I can "smell" the yuck in those around me and miss it in myself! I really didn't want to write about this little revelation God gave me. I fought it. Truth is He gave me a tremendous writer's block and kept bringing it to mind until I finally just surrendered to it this morning and said...Ok, I'm going to write about the Yuck. As a Christ follower, I like to talk about the ways God has deodorized my life, so to speak. I like to share about the trials I have already overcome because it's easier for the "yuck" to seem less yucky once there is victory over it. But, I'm learning, it is equally as important to recognize the current strongholds in my life that stink! It is so much easier, and honestly so much more comfortable, to see it others.

I've been asking God to reveal himself to me daily. He's doing it y'all. It doesn't always come in a pretty package. I used to always rely on Jeremiah 29:11 and stop. Chapter 29, verse 11 says, "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." However, when you read on in verse 12-13 it says, "Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all of you heart. " There are areas of my life that God is dealing with me in a real way. Those areas stink and he's reminding me of it. The smell isn't coming from others. It's coming from me, clothes washed in the water, clean clothes - clean clothes that grew stale.

Do you, like me, have some stale places to deal with? Are you like me in that you restart your washer multiple times a day instead of just simply finishing the laundry? It's crazy but right now God is dealing with my heart through laundry. He's revealing to me places where mildew can grow and simply asking me..."When are you just going to finish the laundry? Move it to the dryer, girl, and put it away!" You have to give the mildew a place to grow. So stop it! Finish the laundry.

It's one thing to know God's word. It's an entirely different thing to do what it says. Good intentions can be a very dangerous thing. My good intentions were the catalyst of my stale clothes. And guess what, stale clothes, stink - whether you can smell them or not!

Matthew 7:3 "Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?"

An Open Door

By: Rebekah Page

We recently were staying with our neighbors for the last bit of our remodel. One morning, we were meeting with a sub-contractor and our children were running back and forth between the two houses (despite me telling them not to).

Returning to my neighbors, the doors were found wide open where bugs, mosquitoes, flies, and potential intruders were permitted entrance.

No one or anything was hurt, and despite my parental failure, I was seeking a Godly-reason as to why He allowed this to happen. Why had my children disobeyed? Why didn’t I leave my house to discipline and check on them at the neighbors?Why had they left the doors open?

It wasn’t until later that I got a sense of the Holy Spirit asking me, “What doors have you left open in your past? Why are you allowing bugs in now? What intruders are lurking about your doorways ready to take advantage of your open-door? Have you forgotten to be on guard? Are you allowing Me to be your gate, and gate keeper? Am I your way in and out of this world?

Researching this post I found this:

“What He opens, no one will shut; and what He shuts, no one will open. I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door, which no one can shut (Revelation 3:7b-8a)”.

Jesus said, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me (John 14:6). “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it (Matthew 7: 13-14).”

I want be one of the ones that finds LIFE. Don’t you!

It begins by allowing the Holy Spirit to lead and direct our path(s). That means, when we leave or deal within our homes, we must go through the filter of the Holy Spirit before we think or act.

We need to get quiet before we move.

We must listen and act in His good pleasures as He places them before us.

This causes us to show that God is at work within us to the world.

We must remember what Christ did for us and desire to obey God with deep reverence.

We must think and act on His behalf because His ways are best.

If I am honest with God and my fellow man, am I allowing Him to make His good pleasures "my" good pleasure?

They should be intertwined.

A teenage-girl in my neighborhood looks lonely swinging on the pre-k swings. She doesn't get a conversation today because I do not stop. Is that the love of God?

Faith without actions is dead.

We need FAITH to trust that His promptings are good enough AND then WE must WALK through the doors He is asking us to walk through one open door at a time. WE must BRING heaven to earth with OUR actions.

I need you (Jesus)!

I give you my life.

I surrender it to you.

“Give Me Faith” by Elevation Worship

Do you allow yourself time to listen to Him? Do you wait to follow His direction in the simple and everyday decisions you will be making? Do you allow Him to change you? Do you believe He is good and that His love is great? Do you believe you are broken and will you give Him your life?

We need Him.

We need Him to break us apart, to pierce through the dark, and to cleanse every part of us.

Will you walk through the open door He is calling you into today?

Praying we take a step of faith in action today to change the course of this world!

Love, Rebekah

Reckless Abandon in the Moonlight

By: Jenny Abbott Edwards

Warm Summer evenings in our Southern state of mind, beckoned a few girlfriends and I to choose the comfort of the coast over the walls of a restaurant as we met to discuss our study, Open Your Bible. As I lugged far too much beach paraphernalia, dinner in a cooler and all the other things, I assume I looked like a pack mule embarking on a trip through the desert. I guess all these years of having preschoolers has made me feel like I cannot travel lightly because surely someone will need something that I haven't packed ---- so I throw it in the bag and over my shoulder!

With toes in the sand, I shared in the confidence of accountable friends, victories God had recently been giving to me. After walking through a difficult season, yesterday I had the privilege of revelation where understanding began to take the place of confusion, where each piece of the complicated puzzle finally began to reveal a bigger picture. It was like I heard God whisper to me, I've been preparing you, piece by piece, for a time such as this.

Much of my life is spent racing from one place to the next. As I catapulted out of the house last night to get to my group, already late, I felt prompted to run back inside for extra towels and clothes. I had toted them down to the beach, but was actually a little afraid to share with the group why I had this duffle bag filled with these things. I felt funny and even a little awkward but, I did it anyway. I'm learning with God, that feelings usually don't get a vote. Doing what He says doesn't always FEEL comfortable.

I continued to share that I knew God was prompting my heart to recommit my life to him, and lay down the burdens I've been carrying because he already paid the price. When I shared this, I pointed to the water and asked, "Does anyone else want to come?"

My mind was saying JENNY, YOU ARE NUTS, this is a crazy idea!! I was expecting a long pause filled with crickets and awkward expressions..instead, one of our precious friends, a devout Christ follower, told us that she had never been baptized and had been waiting for the right time. She told me when I pointed to the water, the Holy Spirit moved in her.

We began sharing with each other some of the burdens that weigh us down. At that point, we rose and walked to the water. As we walked down the beach towards the ocean, we each reflected on what we were "laying down" and leaving behind in the water.

Under the light of a full Carolina moon, together on a nearly empty beach, we baptized our precious friend, Christina, in the ocean. With no bathing suit, no fan fare, no professional photographer, no crowd, no change of clothes, no line of others waiting to go next, our friend knew she had all God needed - her willing heart and the obedience to do what He asks.

She didn't have to bring anything - because He's already enough. How beautiful of a representation is it that the day she chose to make an outward proclamation of her faith in Him, she brought nothing except the obedience to follow Christ's prompting on her heart in that moment. Though, she has been a devout follower of Christ for many years, the timing had not yet come together for her to take this next step of faith. But His ways are not our ways. Christina is a beautiful follower of Christ who is typically extremely prepared, planned, and thought-out. But guess what? With no planning or preparation, He said, "Go Now" and she obeyed his prompting.

Her act of faith is what Christ calls, us to do. Often when we hear the stirring or shouting of God's prompting over something in our life that says - GO, NOW - we say, "wait!" We say, Not yet!" We say, "I can't because..". "But, they aren't here...", "I don't have...", "It's not the right time." Or we say. "No". Worse yet, we pretend we don't even hear the prompting. But not her. July 18, 2016 is her day. Not because something magical happened in the water but because the Majesty, the Maker of the Universe , the Lord of our salvation, transformed her heart many years ago. And yesterday, without any planning or even the anticipation of the possibility of it, the Holy Spirit stirred in her heart that it was time to proclaim outwardly the love she has for Christ.

In the warm water, under the moon, on an empty beach, four friends dove into the ocean together to recommit ourselves to Him. To lay down all we brought with us. To take off the millstone around our necks and let it sink to the bottom of the sea without dragging us with it. Our struggles, our issues, our sins, our striving. We took it off. We rose up and celebrated victory. We chuckled about what the lone bystanders (who we asked to video the baptism) must have been thinking as four fully-clothed women were triumphantly laughing and crying with reckless abandon.

It's almost as if we had forgotten, that the midst of "adulting" and all of the challenges that come with a Christian walk, God continues to say, come as your are. Lay it down and rejoice in the moonlight for what I have ALREADY DONE FOR YOU is enough.

His love washes over us. The waters carried away our sin and swept the millstone to the depths of the sea. Just as my friend didn't need to bring anything with her to be baptized last night, God doesn't need anything from us except the willingness to say, Here I am.

You see, most of us, are walking around looking a lot like I did in my grand entrance onto the beach. An exhausted pack mule with my overpacked burdens, the worries of others that I thought I was supposed to be carrying on my shoulders and of course my favorite accessory that is always chained around my neck. My necklace made of rope and millstone crafted with broken dreams, life's bad hand, lies we've been told and series of unfortunate events that have shaped the heavy rock that weighs us down.

The crashing waves symbolically washed our sins, our stone and our burdens away last night. We prayed and ask God to help us wake in the morning and not dive back in the sea to search for it. Like ocean waters crashing to the shore & receding back to the sea, we can allow ourselves to be drawn back to His ways. May we always be reminded of the day we laid it down in the ocean - when we cut ourselves free from the the rope tied to our death and were freed to float to the surface. We are not consumed. He has allowed us to rise back up from beneath the waters.

In the darkness of the evening, the full moon illuminated our sillouettes celebrating Him - He who is the Light, the hope of our world, in the midst of the falling darkness around us. Even in darkness, we can still rejoice in the Light that is illuminated through his people who chose not to be overcome but instead, through his salvation are able to cut off the sins meant to destroy us and rise up from beneath the water.

Some beach, somewhere, just might be waiting for you to go and dance recklessly in the moonlight after you've laid it down for the one who gave it all.

"But God raised him from the dead, freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him. " - Acts 2:24