Hey Girl

Hey Girl. 

Did the words hurt you? I know the feeling. They hurt me, too.  They say sticks and stones break bones and words will never hurt- but they don't just hurt. They crush. Leave you feeling worthless. 

Oh, how I know. Girl, you're not alone. 

They say the truth hurts, but I think it hurts worse when the truth isn't known. Lies are spewed. Your lungs scream for the freeing air of justice. Your back is against the wall and their hands are raised with stones, poised to strike. You never thought they'd do this, did you? Yeah, me neither. Didn't think it would come to this. Forgot that there's wolves in sheep's clothing and that there's tares among the wheat. 

I'm standing here, and I want to scream for justice at the top of my lungs. To silence the accusations. To set free the truth that's captive. To make known the innocent. You've been there, too, yes? You know the feeling. The burning flame. I can sense your heart is beating it, too. 

But take a deep breath. It's all you really can do when your hands are tied behind your back with pointed last words. Breathe with me, please? Lean your head closer to mine so you can hear my whisper. I've got my eyes closed, head tilted to heaven. Girl, this is going to shake your world...listen carefully now: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

Soak it in- take your time. It took me a while, too. Do you see the injustice of thorns and spikes piercing the Body of the Son of God? Do you hear the curses, the lies, the accusations, the anger, the falsehoods that are slandering the character of the innocent and sinless Messiah? And after they flog Him and whip Him and mock Him and tear Him and diminish Him to nothing but a sagging package of bones struggling to make that walk with a stake on His back....He begs the Father to forgive them. 

But it's more than that, Girl. It's more. And this may shake your world even more: He opened not His mouth. 

It's called forgiveness. Compassion. Love. Grace. He extends it all to those who persecuted Him. All those who laughed in His face. Slapped His Face. Tore His Face. 

Soak that in, Girl. Try to process it all in. I'm still trying to fully comprehend it, too. When they're spitting their venom at us, and every fiber in our body demands retaliation...He didn't. Therefore, should we? Let them spew away, Girl. It's hard. It's painful. It's hurtful. But don't hold it in. Count yourself worthy- and know that He knows exactly how you're feeling. He's going to bless you. That's a promise. Count on it, Girl- He's going to get you through this with a spiritual strength that cannot be bent, with a testimony that will touch others, and with a new dependance and reliance on Him. He's going to make beauty from the ashes. 

Say it with me, Girl: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Say it out loud. Claim it while they continue to shoot their arrows at you. Those arrows don't pierce as deep now, do they? Compassion is seeping into your sight. You see how they don't understand His grace and forgiveness towards them. You want to reach out your hand in love to them, to try to break the callous hearts, to help them see all that they're missing. You're weeping for them. It's a different ache you're feeling now. 

Forgive them. 

The shackles fall from your wrists with those words. The arrows won't let up, no- but the prison door will swing open.

When It's Time To Stop Waiting // Jump Out Of The Boat

Life is full of waiting. Some self-imposed, some God-imposed. Some things make sense, while others are blurry visions of things to come. Go ahead, raise your hand if you are waiting…

…for a husband…
…for a job…
…for an education…
…for a child…
…for God to work in someone’s life…
…for God to work in your life…
…for enough money to do this or that…
…for more time…
…for more talent…
…for forgiveness…

…I’m sure I haven’t covered all the bases, so add your two cents here: I am waiting for ______________. Fill in the blank. You’re not alone. 

We’re all waiting. 

But when is it time to stop waiting? Stop waiting to live our lives until the perfect love, perfect friend, perfect job, perfect situation transforms our lives? Isn’t it time that we stop pacing back and forth and actually do something? To you young women out there, don’t get me wrong- I’m not saying that you need to go out and find yourself a husband here. I’m not saying that we need to speed up God’s timing. I’m not saying that we should not wait. 

We need to wait. But we also need to live. And sometimes? While we’re waiting for that big moment to present itself…it’s really God’s gentle push saying, “Jump out of the boat.” 

For me? It’s the fear that’s keeping me waiting in the unknown. 

God wants to bring us to the place where our eyes are fixed on Him and Him alone. He wants us to be focused solely on being abandoned to Him. He wants us to do hard things. 
Peter had that opportunity. 
Messiah called him out to the impossible of walking on water, and his fire-zealous heart leaped at the chance. He took the step of faith. He left the boat…but his eyes riveted off of the Master to what if. The waves were there, and what if they took him under? In that moment, there was no longer full abandonment. There was no longer full surrender. 
A quarter was given to the enemy.
It was all that was needed. Soon fear grabbed his heart, pulling him into the deep. It was a downward spiral to the depths of darkness. He knew he was going under, and he cried out for the Master to save him. 
And He did. As soon as the words had left Peter’s lips, He was by his side. 

I’ve always had a strong connection to Peter. I, like Peter, am zealot-hearted. I, like Peter, am bold when my soul feels free- but when the enemy looks me in the eye, I do the unthinkable and cave in to safety. My heart, like Peter’s, beats the Gospel, but my most desperate pleas are “Lord, save me!” and “Give me grace!”. 
Oh, Peter, I think we would’ve been friends…because your acquaintances Fear and What If visit my house, too. I’m pacing the boat, uncertain of the waters, wondering if He’s going to let me sink or stand. 

And I blame it on the “waiting game”. 

I say I’m waiting for more time, for more courage, for more talent, for more provisions. I blame my refusal to jump out of the boat on things I think I don’t have- forgetting that He will give us all that we need. Fear keeps me chained in the shallow end because the thought of doing what He’s asking me to sends me into cardiac arrest. Fear keeps me bound on the solid ground of self because I know that if I do what He’s asking me to, it’s going to make me vulnerable and uncomfortable and scared out of my wits. Fear keeps me enslaved to complacency because if I leap out of the boat, I’m going to get wet. I’m going to struggle. I’m going to thrash. I’m going to take great big gulps of water that flood my lungs and make me feel like I’m drowning…because I completely forget that He’s just a call away. He’s not going to let me drown in the deep end. 

He’s calling me- and you- to leap out of the boat and live. He’s calling us to pick up our swords, look that monster named Fear in the eyes and say, “You will not run my life-no way.”  It’s a daily battle. Being a Believer isn’t a walk in the park or a tea party- it’s a wild roller-coaster and a battlefield. We have to fight our flesh and die to self so that He can live in us. 

He’s asking us to live while we’re waiting for the things He’s asked us to wait for, and asking that we walk by faith and not by sight. Today will never come again- how are we going to make it count for the Kingdom? How are we going to give Him every heartbeat, every quickened breath, every action of our hands and feet and ask Him to make them count for His glory? 

I swing my legs over the side of the boat. I want to be on the water with Him. The boat lurches at the shifting weight, wanting to dump me overboard. My fingernails claw at the wooden rail of the familiar and the safe. Yet, I want to go. I want to. Fear is looking over my shoulder- I can feel his heavy shadow loom. 
But my eyes look to Him. His hands are outstretched. I can barely hear Him whisper over the wind and the waves- the things that scream that I’m foolish, the things that boss me to do something else, the things that yell that I’ll never make it out there. I can barely hear Him, but I can lip-read enough to know. “Trust Me. Your life is now.” 
My toes touch the water and I abandon the ship of self security to live fully on the waves where He’s calling me. 

He's Passed Over // N.E.D.

I've been cleaning for days, trying to uncover any last remaining bits of leaven from this house. But today, it seemed longer than the rest. Passover Eve and still so much to do. I'll be honest, I didn''t do it all as cheerfully as I ought. Something was dragging me down. Chaining me. When life throws so much at you, sometimes you can only function in a fog. 

By now it's past 10:20 at night and I'm bone tired. Exhausted and barely able to keep standing at the computer. But we've been waiting. All evening we've been checking, waiting for my brother to finally tell us what his good news was. Waiting. Waiting. 

I didn't expect much. I know that now, because what he said put me in shock. 

He said the three most beautiful letters in the alphabet. 

N.E.D. 

The three most beautiful letters in the alphabet that I never thought I'd ever hear. N.E.D. No Evidence of Disease. I stand there in shock as mom starts rejoicing in the kitchen at this late hour. Did he just say...? My brain can't comprehend it. The only word it comprehends is HALLELUYAH. 

In that moment, the shackles fall from my ankles. The world rolls off my shoulders. 

My brother's living another day. Amazing how three little letters can change your world. 

I fall asleep with a praise on my lips. In the midst of the night, something disturbs my slumbers. I squint. Why is my room flooded with sunlight? It's 3 in the morning. I groggily pull back a corner of the blind. It's been months since I've seen such a bright moon. But in that moment I remember...

It's Passover. It was under this same bright moon thousands of years ago that Yehovah lead the children of Israel out of bondage. He lit their path, made clear their way. Tonight? He has passed over us, too. 

My mind screams "N.E.D" over and over and over again. If Ryan didn't live clear halfway across this great state, I'd beg him to waltz me around the room. To dance before the Father. No, Ryan is not the firstborn- but the Father has spared his life another day. Passed over. Passover. 

He's leading us out of Egypt. 

Raw Blessings

I started this blog so I could have a place during this cancer journey where my heart could bleed out words- so that it could heal through setting them free. My writings are raw because I tell things the way they are, the way they feel, the way they effect myself and my family. Cancer is not a happy topic- no hardship, illness, or trial is.  You can't sugarcoat heartache or emotions. Because of that, I will not tell you to lighten up through the trials you're facing. I will not tell you that you just need to get over the hurt and pain. However, I will tell you this: you have to wrestle through it- claim Him as your God, no matter what happens. I can tell you that, because I've gone through it. I could list pages of hurts, trials, disappointments, tears, frustration, and then some that this cancer journey has handed me. 

But I could also list pages of blessings. 

I can tell you the blessings of learning to wrestle in prayer, the blessings of treasuring every day as a gift from God, the blessings of loving and serving my family, the blessings of LIFE, the blessings of tears shed together, the blessings of someone's arms around you for comfort, the blessings of the Body of Christ coming together to encourage you and pray with you, the blessings of memories, the blessings of knowing how to help others in the same situation you're going through, the blessings of having nothing left to cling to but His promises, the blessings of a deeper and richer walk with Him as He walks you through the valley...

Sometimes, our biggest blessings...they come through raindrops. Tears. Sleepless nights and fears. The raw heartache. Emotion. 

This woman, she knows. The song "Blessings" was born through her husband's battle with a brain tumor. This song wrestles through all the things we want, the things we view as blessings...but comes to realize that maybe, we've had the wrong definition of blessings all these years. He's showering us with gifts, even through the storms. We just have to choose to see them as such. 

It's a feeling and a knowledge that I cannot describe in words. You'll only experience it when you're the one walking through the valley. I'm not just talking of cancer- we all have our shadows of darkness that we must walk through, whether it be broken relationships, job loss, death, or defeat. It's in those moments when you realize that your relationship with God is not fluff, it's not fancy words, it's not the glamorous blessings of prosperity...

...it's that He's there with you. Carrying you. Causing you to see that He is your all in all- everything you will ever need. Showing you how to cling to His promises. Knowing that even though we're blinded by our human instincts of frustration and anger and doubt, He's standing strong before us- guiding us and lighting our way. 

And that is the greatest blessing of all. 

(let's make this a declaration, shall we? share your raw blessings in a comment below. declare the promises you cling to. no matter who you are, whether i know you or not...we're all on this journey together. so let's praise Him together, yes?) 

Ponder Me This

There's a lot to ponder about in this life.

Some things, they're worth pondering. Others, well, they just aren't. So I ponder myself this:

What's wrong with this Body? 

Why do we have division? Why do we have strife? Do we all need to walk through a cancer journey in order to realize that we only have one life, only one shot to be His love, only one try to show a dying world who He is? Do we all need to sit in the cancer ward with our lives flashing before our eyes or have toxic orange fluid drip into our chests and burn away all the worthless pursuits and meaningless time killers and petty disagreements? 

Do we care more about being right and being on top that we forget that we are called to be children of Peace- to do anything and everything within our power to make peace? And if we're not children of Peace- who's children are we?

It's like Ann recalls- we're looking more like Christ's Estate rather than Christ's Body. We're divided by fences and lines rather than joined together by the sinews and veins. 

So when are we going to put down our signs, cross over the lines, and love like He did? And I'm not talking about the outside world here- it seems we can love them fairly well. We gladly put on smiles and extend hands of love in attempts to build bridges with the lost. But inside this Body? 

We just keep on building fences. 

Have we so quickly forgotten the second greatest commandment? Do we forget that it's LOVE- love that covers over a multitude of sins? That we must first show love to our brother before we can show our love to Him? And if we paused before we eagerly look for the spec of dirt in our brother's eye- we'd see the beams of filth in our own life? 

Is this what Christ died for- so we could all just trample grace and refuse to give it to our hurting brother and keep on building fences? 

It doesn't have to be this way. It shouldn't be this way. 

So what are you going to do about it?

This is our responsibility. It boils down to us individually. What are we going to do to restore unity, to be a healing balm and gracefully begin restoration within the Body? 

Is it an e-mail? An apology? Time spent on your knees in tears, begging the Father to break your heart like this dysfunctional Body breaks His? Is it inviting that person over to dinner, or meeting them for coffee, or writing them a note of grace? Is it a hug? Saying "You're needed in this Body"? A gift? Going out of your way to make sure that person feels loved and needed- regardless of petty doctrinal disagreements? 

How are you going to break the fences and link arms once again with your fellow sisters and brothers? 

(please, go read this post. ann's words ring so true. i had "Holy Spirit Bumps" chill my arms as I read. take it as a challenge- and be the change. do something to bring this Body back to unity. because in the end? it all starts with you and me.)

Hope // Flood Me

"We have this HOPE as an ANCHOR for the SOUL, firm and secure." 

-Hebrews 6:19a- 

It's underlined in purple pen, the silhouette of an anchor penciled next to it. The pages worn, a spot in Hebrews that always falls open without much prompting. A secure hope. A promise of His that binds my soul, like a grappling hook from my heart to His- a way to bring down these promises, a source of constant hope. 

But sometimes? The storm blows, and the anchor starts to tug away from the cleft in the rocky seabed- and my heart bobs at the top, like a buoy tossed helplessly from the controlling wind. 

Hope. 

How can you live without it? What is there to look forward to without it? Why am I trying to live without it?

Hope. 

Ironic that such hope comes from links of metal, a solid weight, something that drags. We picture such things as bondage, as slavery, as children destitute to hopelessness. But these chains? They're a lifeline. Something sure in this storm, something we all must grasp until our knuckles turn white like it's the only thing left. 

Hope. 

When the cancer consumes and we're sitting here not knowing what to do next, when we're left alone and those you thought would stick around have abandoned you, when you've been tossed back and forth by these waves for weeks and months and years, when you're in the midst of all this- it's hard to see a break in the clouds, a glimmer of sunlight...a ray of hope. 

Hope. 

This hope, it's prayer. It's the certainty that Yeshua has entered into the Inner Sanctuary, petitioning on our behalf. It's praying and tossing this anchor into the heavens, praying His kingdom down. 

Hope. 

I struggle with it. The winds of fear blow me until my vision is blurred and my head is swimming. But I must have hope. Hope that the Son will come. He will shine from the Sanctuary, that the Father's mercy is not exhausted- His Hand is not too short to save me. And sometimes- no, all of the times- He's got us in the deep end for our good. To teach us, to grow us, to stretch us. 

Hope. God, flood me to overflowing. 

(hey you- keep clutching the anchor. i know it's tough. i know it's hard. but cling to Him 'cause He's not going anywhere. firm and secure, girl- those are His words to your storm-battered heart)

Please do // Please don't // How to best help cancer families

Please do pray fervently  //  Honestly, this is the most important thing you can do for cancer families. Don't just tell us that you're praying- do it. Take even just ten minutes out of your day for undivided prayer and wrestle in prayer for us. Beg the Father to give us the strength, faith, trust, and courage to go through what we're going through every single day. Ask Him to pour out His mercies on us. Yes, do pray for the miracle- but also pray that we are humble enough to accept His will as good. Pray for our doctors to have wisdom. Pray for us to have wisdom. Pray for you to have wisdom on how to best be an encouragement to us. Ask the Father to reveal to you what you should do and what you should say- and then do it. 

Please don't say these things  //  Don't say you understand what we're going through because your sister-in-law's father's cousin twice removed has a co-worker who had cancer five years ago. It's so not the same as having a brother, a son, a parent, or even a grandparent or other close family members go through cancer.   Don't say that it'll all work out for the good and not to worry about it when we're sitting in the surgery room. We're human. We get scared- it's our loved one under the surgeon's knife and against grim statistics. Don't say that there's always hope when we've just gotten the news that the cancer has taken over the body. We need to face realities, not fantasies. Don't say that our medical choices are wrong. If we choose to do chemo or choose to do natural remedies, it's because that's what we've prayed about and researched about and we don't need to be condemned for it. Words have much power, to hurt and anger others or to give them comfort and encouragement. If you are at a loss for words, tell us "I have no words to say." Sometimes the most comforting thing is hearing you say "I don't know what you're going through- but if there is anything I can do for you, I'm willing to do it." 

Please do respect our emotions  //  Cancer isn't just physically exhausting- it's mentally and emotionally exhausting. If we look tired, then know that now is not the time for a long chat over tea about the latest treatment plan that has been chosen. Know when to give us space, and when we need to be alone with our loved ones who are battling this disease. Don't be offended at this- we want to spend time with you, too, but know when it's time to say goodbye for now. 

Please don't be a prophet  //  We don't know the mind of God. We don't know what His plan is. So don't tell us, "I am already praising God for entire healing." Don't say, "I have the faith that God is going to give you back your loved one completely cancer free." Let's face it- most of these cancer journeys do not lead to complete healings and normal lives. Please be sensitive to that. This is a life and death journey. We cannot demand anything of God. It's hurtful and it can shake our faith when you say things that God has not said. 

Please do reach out  //  Please do drop us a note, comment, e-mail, text, letter, package, phone call, (you name it!), especially if you haven't heard from us in a while or if you know that we're going through another rough spot. We treasure these forms of your support. If the Father has laid something specific on your heart to do, please do it. It's so comforting to know that you're there, that you're thinking of us.  If you aren't sure of how to help, don't be afraid to ask us "What can I do to help you?". Also, take initiative. We can get overwhelmed with so much going on that we can't think of what we really need help with. Be specific. Ask if you can bring us a meal, or if you can watch the kids for a doctor's appointment. 

Please don't shy away  //  Don't be afraid or uncomfortable or overwhelmed or hide in the corner because you don't want to face the problem or don't know what to do or say. We need you. We can feel alone, and we need encouragement. We need your love. We need your support. Really and truly, the best form of comfort is just being there- take the time to sit with us. Don't think that you have to keep a conversation going the whole time. There doesn't need to be a word spoken. Just be there. Be available to be a shoulder that we can cry on, a hug that warms our heart, or even someone who will pray with us when we have no more words of our own.