Failure to launch

I can't quite get it off the ground! The desire of my heart is to connect with young girls and encourage them in their value to preserve their sexual and emotional purity until marriage.  Somedays I feel like a soldier suiting up for battle as I attempt to combat the effects of the sexualization on today's youth. 

The date has been set for this year's retreat and I do see God in it, but its not moving forward very quickly! I spent most of the day after last weeks planning meeting feeling like it was too much to navigate.  After three attempts to get our planning team together we were finally able to meet. The previous two attempts had been sidelined by illness and my unexpected flat tire. (I guess all flat tires are unexpected, huh?)

Still feeling motivated, I was excited to see the ladies for last weeks meeting.  Until a few of the preschoolers who came along went up to our bonus room to play. 

Did I mention that we got a puppy for Christmas? Ugh....potty training has not been easy and my three 'I'll do anything to get a puppy!' kiddos have lost interest in him.  No one likes to take him out, and unknown to me, Max has happily begun using the cubbies in our playroom as a litter box. 
I'll admit I don't go into the playroom much - it has a door and I close it. 

Not far into our meeting the visiting preschoolers uncovered Max's 'treasures' - SERIOUSLY!  How was this dog a gift for me?  After making the ladies wait for another 10 minutes so I could clean up, we finally got started.  I was so embarrassed and just knew these ladies thought I was the worst mom and housekeeper ever.

I'd like to tell you that I recovered quickly and had the mental and emotional maturity to rebound and make great progress at that meeting.  No such luck.  I held it together for the meeting and then spent the rest of the day in an emotional ditch.  You know the one, where you wonder why you even thought you could make a difference? The place where you dig in your heels convinced that it's all a waste of time?

Then Saturday came.  I was up early to do the usual shuffle running kids to their practices peppering every sentence I blurted out with a 'hurry up!' or 'we're going to be late!' I raced through the chores then ended up at the church to help with a food distribution truck, clearly not running on an emotionally full tank prepared to pour into others.

God didn't care.  He used me anyway, a crystal clear reminder that He will use me even if I think I'm unworthy. As I jumped in line and helped a lady with an armload of groceries to her car, my heart lifted and I was giddy to be helping her.  She was so grateful and shared openly about her husbands job loss and her hourly job at a local hospital.  She talked about 5 of her neighbors whose homes were in foreclosure and how her family was hanging on to every dime hoping to prevent losing their home as well.  I hugged her and I listened and I felt the greatest benefit.

As the plans for PINC (purity is no compromise) University April 19/20, 2013 unfold, I pledge to get my 'stuff' out of the way.  My insecurities, my fears, my agenda, and my pride.  My 'dog poo' is so minor in the big picture and if I choose to stay stuck in it, no one will benefit.  Feel free to hold me accountable!

The Ride

I'm writing this blog today for those of you who think there is no hope for love in your marriage or that real love doesn't even exist anymore.  Marriage is hard and at times it can seem one sided; like a roommate relationship based merely on convenience.  It can be lonely and heartbreaking and may even feel worthless to keep trying, but let me offer you a glimpse behind our closed doors.

Scott and I met when we were in high school.  He was a senior and I was a sophomore.  We were part of a group of mutual friends and we hit it off.  He was my first date and my first kiss, we attended prom together and through a few ups and downs, we made it through a 6 year long-distance college romance and got engaged when I was 20.  We fell deeply in love and I have boxes of letters that catalog our history.  Life was great and after many years living for the weekends when we would be together, we were elated at the prospect of being married and living in the same place.

Eighteen years ago when we pledged our love to one another in front of 150 friends,family members and two pastors, we were drunk on dreams.  I had visions of the two of us cuddling on the couch for hours each evening and candlelit dinners spent gazing into each others eyes.  With only ever having had weekends to spend together in the past, I assumed every married day together would only offer more of that bliss, more uninterrupted time to focus only on each other, more special outings with walks and movies and more time to see the best in each other.  The problem was that we had never had to experience juggling our everyday responsibilities within our relationship.  When I went to see Scott on the weekends he was all I focused on and the same was true when he saw me at college. 

And so the roller coaster ride began, the lows left me splashing through buckets of tears and the highs had me reaching for the sky proclaiming that each time I saw my husband I loved him more than our last encounter.  We would have blow out fights, recover, forgive and settle into married life until the next fight erupted.  But you see temptation takes a while to incubate.  At four years into our marriage things had begun to erode.  The cars on the coaster screeched to a halt and we were forced to evaluate whether or not we should even be married.  We were growing apart and those years we spent professing our undying love for each other when we were dating, seemed only to remind us of all we might have missed by not seeking other relationships during our early twenties.

As we looked around we began searching for a way out.  Things seemed hopeless and we began evaluating options for divorce and frequently threw around the "D word" in the heat of anger.  We interviewed lawyers and talked logistics and began to tell our family.  Then something crazy happened, God stepped in.   We had always had a strong belief in God and even in our early married life we were wise enough (or lucky enough!) to fall into small groups of friends who were a few stages ahead of us in life.  When we began to let our secret plan for "splitting up" out into the light, we were immediately surrounded by friends who encouraged us to fight for our marriage.  

I have not doubt that through some of those dark days there were friends around us who had much more hope for the future of our marriage than we did.  They prayed with us and for us and encouraged us to seek counseling and small group fellowship.  They checked in on us and we informally became accountable to them for updates on our progress.   Staying in our marriage became a very black and white choice.  Even if we did not feel loving or loved, we chose to seek love for each other.  Although the roller coaster had taken us on an exhilarating ride in the beginning, when we wanted to get off we couldn't.  

When you step onto a roller coaster ride the last thing that happens before the cars lurch forward is the shoulder harness that lowers over your head from up above.  It's a little tight sometimes and it's uncomfortable because no matter how much you push against it, you can't release it until the ride is over and the ride operator activates the release.  When Scott and I wanted out of our marriage, there was a shoulder harness holding us in place.  It was our commitment to each other and to God that we were in this relationship "til death do us part".  When we pushed against it, God held us in place. 

After at least 12 months of solid couples and individual counseling, we were able begin to view each other through new eyes.  We gained a new appreciation for our differences and were given tools we'd never had before to make our marriage all that God designed it to be.  There are still occasional bumps, but we view love differently as a choice and not just a feeling. 

It's emotional to remember how painful those early days were, but I must tell you about the marriage I have now.    When I recall the vows we recited when we were so young, I could never have imagined the deep love and loyalty I have for the man I lay beside every night.  We've stood side by side as we have buried parents, moved across the country and were blessed with three kids.

In sickness and in health...five years ago when I was diagnosed with an autoimmune liver disease that promises a future organ transplant, Scott held me and we cried together.  He covers my legs with cold cloths when the side effects of intense itching is so maddening I want to scream and that is the only thing that provides relief.  He cradles my head in his hands when I have throbbing migraines and am dizzy and throwing up.  He makes me laugh and feel safer than I ever knew I needed to feel and I still feel the tingle I had when I was 15 when he kisses me each evening when he comes home from work.  The love we have is not luck or lust, its built upon God and the choice to stay the course for ourselves and for our children.   

As I turn out the kitchen light and head to bed, I'll take one last glance at the flowers my valentine always brings me on Valentine's Day, stargazer lilies, the flowers we had in our wedding that he knows I love, and I'll thank God for giving me the choice and the chance to stay on the ride.

What is left when the storms of life batter your sails?

The call came in the middle of the night as emergency alerts often do.  The news was horrific, 26- year-old single mother of two, precious only daughter to an adoring mother was dead in a car collision.  No opportunity for lifesaving heroic measures, no possible mix up of identities, only a pronouncement of DOA...dead on arrival.   The only opportunity for redemption in those dark hours was the question of organ donation.  Would a shocked and grieving mother and grandmother decide to offer others a chance at life by allowing her daughters' only blood pumping organs to be taken?   In those moments of grief would she see beyond her hysteria and choose life for others who were dying?  As God's hand guided her, she agreed to have any possible organs harvested to offer others a chance to live.

Multiple organs were taken and she gave little thought to the lives that might have been affected as she tried to stay afloat in the weeks ahead when the grief swept over her like tidal waves.  She choked back tears hourly in the initial months and relied on friends and family as she selflessly took on the job of raising her grandchildren.  Her daughter had balanced an intricate schedule of activities and responsibilities as a single working mom of two young children.  Grandma was a weak substitute initially for all that her daughter had been, but with time and prayer, she rose to the challenge and took joy in the blessing her grandchildren were to her.  They offered her a link to her daughter, an extension cord powered by the love passed from one generation to the next.

Some days crawled by, but the years flew past and the pain of loss eroded her parenting insecurities. Slowly she began to view the loss of her daughter through different lenses.  She had a second chance to love her grandchildren with a vision of what God could offer them rather than the worry that she was the singular influence on their destiny.  Her journey was one of faith and dependence on God and she knew that He was writing her families' story.

It was 15 years later on a sunny Saturday morning when God revealed himself in an unexpected way. 
Friends were a constant blessing throughout her journey and since moving to a small village 30 miles outside of her former bustling hometown, she was thrilled to have a circle of girlfriends that she met each week for coffee.  She was smiling and enjoying the warmth of the sun on her cheek as it passed through the picture window of the main street coffee shop.  As the ladies exchanged details of their grandchildren and their accomplishments she felt the familiar pride well up inside as she spilled out details of her beloved grandchildren and their deceased mother.  She mentioned her daughter's long ago accident briefly and answered a few questions her new friends asked surrounding her daughter's organ donation, a subject she hadn't considered for many years.

As conversations often do, health care rose to the top the discussion list and a fellow grandmother mentioned that she would be travelling to an area hospital for cancer treatments later that month.   The coffee barista was wiping off a nearby table and overheard the mention of a hospital she was familiar with.  She mentioned to the ladies at the table that she, too, had been to that hospital 15 years earlier for an organ transplant and traveled back and forth annually for rejection testing.  She went on to give specifics of her story after much prompting and concern was expressed among the ladies at the table.  The barista explained that she had been in her early teens when her pancreas was failing and she was facing multiple health complications.  Her life was in jeopardy and her family was praying for a miracle.

Her miracle came in the middle of the night in the form of a 26-year-old single mother of two who was killed in a car accident.  It was no coincidence.  God orchestrated a coffee shop meeting that morning to give an obedient grandmother of two,  a mother of a forever twenty-something daughter, a glimpse of heaven. 

She went home that afternoon and dug through her old file boxes to find her daughters death records.  She found the papers and called the organ transplant organization who handled her daughters death.  After a few phone calls, the pieces fit perfectly.  God had orchestrated a miracle, not only by saving a young woman's life 15 years prior, but by reaching out to a tired grandma and cradling her in His embrace of reassurance that all of her effort in raising her grandchildren, all of the tears she shed over the loss of her only daughter were worth something to the Maker of the Universe

Dear friends, this is an incredibly true story.  Never doubt for a second that God misses any small choice you make.  He adores you and is just waiting for a chance to reveal Himself to you.



 

Storm Chaser

It never failed, every visit we made to my Grandma Mac's house in the summer was marked with at least one tornado warning.  It became a regular part of our routine in the evenings, my mom, grandma and I would gather a deck of cards, snacks and my grandma's ancient transistor radio and head to the basement.  That radio had the longest antennae I'd ever seen and tuning dials the size of soup can lids.  We would position it on the end of the pink vinyl tablecloth that covered what would transform into our "Gin Rummy Game Table".   The storm warnings would hum in the background as we snacked away and my mom and I would try our best to unsuccessfully outwit my Grandma at her favorite card game.

Tornado warnings in the Spring and Summer are routine occurrences in the Midwest.   They mark the change of season and remind us that as much as we may hate to admit it, that we are not ultimately in charge of our own destiny.  As I've travelled across the US, I am always surprised to hear people who live in other regions of the country talk about how fearful they are of tornado's.  When I was a recruiter early on in my corporate career, recent college grads would refuse a job opportunities in Central Illinois solely based upon the location our company.  That is some serious fear of the unknown.

It's not lost on me that I have never had first hand experience with the fury of a tornado, but I never remember feeling fearful during any of those close-encounter summers in my Grandma's basement.  Going down those stairs meant a party to me.  It was a promise of uninterrupted time with my family without the worry of going to bed on time.  My grandma's basement was the shelter from the storm.

Thirty years later, I have witnessed many storms.  Perhaps they haven't been category 5 hurricanes or raging floods that have required recovery efforts from FEMA, but I've witnessed some horrific tragedies.  God has allowed me to hold the hands of friends who have been raped, I've walked alongside survivors of domestic abuse, parents who have lost children to disease, co-workers who have been dealt a diagnosis of death.  I've held the faces of teens in my hands as they've shared stories of drug use and fear of pregnancy, I've held the shoulders of my own children as they cry in disappointment when things don't go as they had planned.

When we moved into our current home almost seven years ago, Scott and I promised God that we would open our door to anyone we could make at home here.  When we built it, we came into the kitchen and living areas and wrote scriptures on the studs and prayed as we walked through the rooms.   We asked God to use us for His needs and to allow us to serve whoever He brought our way.  We prayed that He would allow our home to be a storm shelter.

When I was little and would descend into my Grandma's basement I didn't walk down those stairs in fear,  my thoughts were not of the winds howling outside, but of the peace I felt in the safety of the storm shelter.  We each have the capacity to be that shelter for those around us being battered by the storms of life.  Whether you offer shelter with your words, your physical embrace or in your home, God calls us each to heed the storm warnings and not ignore the sirens that have been sounded by those closest to you.

None of us will escape this life without the pain of loss, disappointment or tragedy, however, the greatest reward of God's economy is to offer the blessing of sheltering friends or family through their darkest days.  It may be something as simple as holding an umbrella for a friend on a cloudy day or as intense as helping a loved one board up their emotional home in preparation for an impending hurricane.  Whatever storm watch God has called you to is a holy assignment that will undoubtedly reveal a magnificent rainbow when the sun shines again. 

Dog Days.

It seemed like the perfect gift, a cuddly little friend for my newly single Mom.  It was the ideal 'dog food commercial scene'; a tiny black puppy emerged from a Christmas morning package with a giant bow around her neck, large enough to act as a parachute for any flight emergency the puppy might encounter.  We thought it was the perfect gift...we were naïve newly married twenty-something's.

Two weeks later, my mom returned the gift...to us! Our tiny rental house didn't allow pets so we went to work to find the dog a new home.  She was so hyper and loud, two different supposed 'forever families' returned her to us claiming she was 'a handful' and she was.

It was settled, Holly was stuck with us and we were stuck with her.  She stayed for a year in our rental house 'in hiding'.  We kept her presence a secret from our 'hands off' landlord and thought we were in the clear.  Then New Years Day hit the following year.  We were out testing out our new roller blades (a Christmas gift from my mom!) with the dog leading the way when the local newspaper spotted us and took a candid shot of a young couple and 'their' dog.

Needless to say when we paid the rent that month the landlord sent us packing and we scrambled to find a new home.  After a frigid move in the height of a Central Illinois winter, the silver lining was that it forced us to buy a home much sooner than we ever planned the following Spring.  She followed us across the country for two big moves before we lost her seven years ago.

18 years later we delivered the same gift to our kids. A new puppy arrived on Christmas morning and we blew our kids out of the water.  It was the coolest Christmas morning ever when they came around the corner and saw him.  They named him Max and they are crazy about him.  My daughter continues to say she feels like she's dreaming and she never thought we would get them a dog.

So why did we do it again, after all the hassle we went through with our first dog?  We did it for the kids.  The thought of their reactions was the motivation to make it happen.  I'm not enjoying the potty training or the constant chewing, but the kids are in heaven.   I think getting the dog was simply another chapter in this parenting saga.  It's the only stage in my life that I've been more consumed with joy by someone else's reactions. 

Dear God, As I look ahead to another year may I take time to sit with you and express the gratitude I feel for the blessings you've bestowed on me with both two legs and four.  Amen.

Gift giving...

I have a girlfriend who has the "gift" of gift giving.  Her gifts are not the average candle or bottle of lotion type of gift.  Her presents are much more than that, they are gifts with meaning.  She goes beyond the ordinary to touch the heart of the recipient.  Several years ago when I was preparing to participate in a three day breast cancer walk, I returned home the day before the event to find a care package from her.  It was filled with things she knew I loved.  Not just Tylenol or Band-Aids...it was filled with Brown Sugar Pop Tarts (my favorite indulgence!) and Diet Coke.  She'd included my favorite magazines and a beautiful note pledging her support and pride in my accomplishments.

When I began this new blogging/speaking venture she presented me with the most precious business card case and a beautiful journal to record my plans with a special pouch in the back that she was sure to tell me was to be used for my future airline ticket stubs and speaking revenue receipts.  She believes in me and her gifts tell the story of that belief.  I believe the secret to her gift giving is that she listens to what I ramble on about and she remembers. 

My mother-in-law was like that too.  She never liked Caesar Salad.  In fact, I think it was her least favorite salad there was.  She much preferred blue cheese and spicy peppers and onions, however, there was not a time that I went to her house for the 15 years that I knew her that she didn't have an alternative for me that she knew I would be happy with.  She listened and watched what I ate and I knew I mattered to her.

With three kids of my own, it's sometimes hard to remember who likes ketchup with their chicken nuggets and who prefers ranch dressing, but I try hard to remember.  I know what type of toothpaste they prefer and I work hard to have the snacks they like on hand when they come home from school.  I want them to know that I notice, that they matter to me.

As you wrap up this week of holiday prep and welcome guests into your home, will you offer them your best?  Will you go to the extra effort to have Mountain Dew on hand,even though you never drink it, but your friends son who is visiting does?  Will you give gifts that you scrambled to find last minute at the mall, or will you slow down and really reflect on what the loved one you are giving the gift to would really like?

God gave us the greatest gift we could ever receive and yet sometimes we don't even know how much we need it.  He sent His only son to die for us to ensure our eternal life with Him in Heaven.  There is no greater gift than that.  As you listen to your guests requests and you work hard to meet everyone's needs this week, do not miss the requests of your Heavenly Father.  He wants you to notice Him and listen to His dreams for you in the coming year.  Don't forget to thank Him for all that He remembered to bless you with.
Merry Christmas!

Hearts breaking open...

The screaming was so loud she wanted to hide.  Her hair flew behind her as she raced down the hall and burrowed under the covers on her bed. It didn't stop the noise.  All she could think of was how to make it stop and she knew she needed to create a distraction and at eight year's old, her options were limited.  She began to cough and she coughed until she forced herself to vomit just to stop the screaming and the repeated use of the word divorce.  Finally, as she too began screaming, alerting her parents that she was sick, the voices stopped.  The attention shifted and her father came to her side. Amidst the tears and mess she was sitting in, she begged her Dad to put aside talks of divorce.  His response left her feeling worse than before, no reassurances, just an indifferent shrug, a non-verbal signal that even an eight-year-old knew meant he'd lost hope for his marriage.

I'm blessed to share a time of prayer with 7 eight-year-old girls each week.
I've been meeting with these girls for 3 months now and I'm used to the typical prayer requests, a neighbor's hamster was attacked by their dog, a cat ran away, even a very sick grandma.  The requests are a window into the hearts of these sweet girls who are beginning to experience some tougher life issues.

Each week that we are together tightens our bond and just as I see among my teen girls, they become more willing to let me in.  Yesterday the dam broke and a few of them shared the heartache of divorce through a child's eyes.

The stories bubbled to the surface peppered with shaky voices and averted  eye contact.  Even at their young age, the girls who had experienced divorce were the first to comfort those that revealed their fears.  One revealed the pain of a custody arrangement and another loosened her grip on her
anxiety over her parents constant arguing.  The girls who had never experienced these issues were oblivious to the hurt the others were revealing, a perfect reflection of their own innocence.  Perhaps their parents don't argue, perhaps they live with a single parent already, perhaps they balance other issues that force them to grow up quickly also.  We are all faced to maneuver some type of struggle in our lives...some of us earlier than others.

If you are a child of divorce, I'm sorry. It hurts and there is always a struggle to balance the what-ifs with what might have been.  If you are considering a divorce and the options seem limited in your life, please don't assume your child is oblivious to what's happening in the other room. Cartoons can't drown out screaming and buying them gifts builds nothing but suspicion.  If divorce is inevitable, and all counseling options have been exhausted, talk to your child.  Secrecy breeds fear and to a child who is afraid, life's problems seem insurmountable. 

Not every marriage is able to be 'happily ever after' but our kids deserve a love of a lifetime from two parents who adore them and put their needs above their own when necessary.