The Christmas Viking

When Bryan was a little boy, he had an obsession with vikings. I mean, we went to Medievil times festivals, read about chain mail and swords, checked viking books out the library. He was all about the vikings. Truth be told, Bryan had MANY obsessions throughout his early years (dinosaurs, spiders, WW2, Star Wars, the digestive system to name a few!). Vikings were just one of many, but it was special because it just so happened to be his obsession during the Christmas season that year.

At church, his precious Sunday School teachers made ornaments for the kids to give to moms and dads. Using the child's thumbprint, they'd make little smiley faces, and the words "I'm thumbody special" were written across the ornament. Sweet, huh? Well, can you imagine our delight when Bryan brought home his ornament to reveal a thumb-viking? It was completed with a viking hat and sword, a true masterpiece of our son's own design. I can almost guarantee that no other child in the history of First Baptist Church, Richmond KY has ever made a viking out of their thumbprint!

Every year, as we pull out the decorations to transform our home into a Christmas land, I cannot wait to see that sweet little ornament. It gets the front of the tree every year, very near eye level for me. It takes me back to a time when there was a sweet innocence in Bryan, a time that I often mistakenly wished away because the days were long and sometimes not easy (has anyone ever told you little boys can be hard???!!) This year was no different. I rummaged through the box of wrapped ornaments, looking for that one, eager to give it its rightful place of honor. And every day, as I've walked past that tree, I find myself looking at that little thumb viking and smiling.

Today, in my quiet time with the Lord, I was reminded that He looks at me the same way.. like that sweet little thumbprint viking. He relishes me, delights in me, places me in a place of honor. The Father of all the universe smiles as He looks at me... not because I'm perfect. Just like Bryan's viking has a wonky hat and oddly-shaped extremities, I'm far from perfect myself. The sins of my life have stained me. But the blood of Jesus has washed me clean. I'm beautiful in His sight. Maybe not by worldy standards am I beautiful. You certainly won't find my face stamped across some beauty magazine, and I'll likely never be given the title "beauty queen". Yet, My Abba Father.. he calls me beautiful. And that's enough for me.

Did you know that the Father delights in you too? That the season of Christmas is proof of His delight? He gave you and me the most incredible gift of his son, God-become-flesh, to dwell among us. He gave us Emmanuel, God WITH US. What a gift that is! His delight was not just in word, but it was carried out in deed through the coming of the Messiah.

And so it is that the sweetest little Thumb viking ornament ever made is still filling my heart with joy. What a wonderful reminder as I look at it hanging there of the wondrous gift of Jesus. I hope you have a Christmas viking of your own to remind you of the same. May your Christmas season be filled with reminders and celebrations of the Messiah, Emmanuel...God with us.

Peace,
H~

Kidneys are good

Some of you may not know, but last week I got to witness a miracle firsthand! How's that, you ask? Well, let me tell you!

I wrote a few weeks ago about my brother and my husband. In that post, I explained that diabetes had taken its toll on my brother's kidneys, and he was in need of a transplant. Well, lo and behold, my husband just happened to be a match for him! (note the sarcasm. I do NOT believe in coincidence or luck).

A week ago today, doctors removed the left kidney from Jeff and placed it into my brother. Immediately, that thing pinked up and began working. Seriously, the nurses were emptying his catheter bag around the clock starting immediately. (Side note: I've never been so excited about pee before!) The next morning, Chris's creatinine level was cut in half (That's a lab value that indicates kidney function, and prior to surgery Chris's was not good at all. In fact, it was consistent with the need for dialysis).

24 hours later, and that Creatinine level was just 0.1 away from the normal range. 48 hours after surgery, and it was 1.1- IN THE NORMAL RANGE. Chris said it was the first time he'd had a normal Creatinine level since he was about 35 years old (11 years ago!).

Yesterday, that Creatinine had dropped to 0.9, almost the same as Jeff's level was prior to surgery! Chris thinks that it was last that low when he was 20-25 years old.

FOLKS, THIS IS A MIRACLE!

Some people will read this and write it off as nothing more than the wonders of modern medicine. Believe me when I say that I'm grateful for modern medical advances. It blows my mind that they can take an organ out of one person and use it in another.

BLOWS. MY. MIND.

But I believe that the reason for that is miraculous, God-given. He created our bodies and He imparts knowledge to some to be able to perform such life-saving measures.

A working kidney in my brother isn't the only miracle I've observed though. The willingness of my husband to give that kidney is no less a miracle. This week, I sat by his bedside and watched him in excrutiating pain, all willingly. I even asked him one time when the pain was horrible, "Do you regret it?" He quickly said, "No. Not for one second".

I've watched my husband with new eyes this week. He's always had a servant heart. That's one of the things I fell in love with about him. He's always been willing to give to anyone in need whatever he could. But this... this is real sacrifice folks. This time, it wasn't money or food or clothing or clean water. This time it was literally his body, his comfort!

I've watched as he tears up every time it is mentioned that Chris's kidney is functioning perfectly. I've watched as he hurt but never one time complained. I'm humbled by that.

In the recovery room, Jeff's first questions were "How is Chris? Did it work?". When Chris came out about an hour later, a nurse walked to Jeff's curtained area and said "He wants to know how Jeff is doing". These two men represent the heart of Christianity. In a world where people sometimes look at Christians with disdain and suspicion- sometimes rightfully!), I hope they also see this. Because this... this is what following after Jesus is supposed to look like.

Sunday afternoon, Jeff came home. What a wonderful time that was! But today is likely the first time that he truly rejoices, because today Chris goes home too.

Today is very literally the start of a new life for Chris. But y'all, it's also the start of a new life for Jeff. Because you can't live sacrificially and not be altered. It's just not possible. You can't live fully sold-out to Jesus and not be changed completely inside and out. In fact, I'd bet that if you asked anyone in our immediate family, they'd all tell you that they are changed because of the events of this past week. And change is good, y'all. Change is very good.

In the body, kidneys work to get rid of the waste in our bodies. In our life, Christ works the same. Without Him, we can't be fully effective. We can't filter the junk in this world and come out untainted without Christ. We weren't made to be without him. Without a kidney, our body can't filter the junk. We can't live.

The bible says, "The thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy; I have come that you may have life and have it to the full" (John 10:10). Jesus is the life-giver, the abundant life-giver, the peanut-butter-oozing-out-the-side-of-the-sandwich- life giver. If you don't know him, I'd love to share about this life-giver. Because y'all, Kidneys are good, but Jesus is even better!

Thanks be to God.

We were next at the checkout line when she told me she needed to spit out her gum. "My teeth are hurting because this is old, momma".

The garbage can was just a few feet away from me; she never had to leave my line of vision. She did have to walk in front of the elderly gentleman seated quietly on the bench next to the trash can. It never occurred to me that there would be any problem with that.

I began to unload and scan my groceries as she bounced away, half skipping, half dancing. She was oblivious to anyone else around her really, humming away as usual. I glanced up just as she walked in front of the man, just in time to see him glare at her. What happened next was not anything I would have imagined.

The old man, still glaring at my daughter, pulled his head back and proceeded to spit on my daughter.

Let that sink in.

He spit on my girl.

I saw red.

Ellie skipped back to me, and I turned her around to make sure I had actually seen what I thought I had seen. Sure enough, there was his spit on her t-shirt. I asked her if she had felt it, and she said no.

"Why would he do that, momma?".

That's the same question I had, but I sure didn't want to have to explain it to her. I shouldn't HAVE to explain it to her. No one should. Yet here we were, and she was watching me to see how I was going to react. She was waiting to see if she was worth taking up for.

Let me assure you that she is.

Let me assure you that I did exactly that- take up for her.

I approached the old man and asked him why he had done that. His answer,
"I don't like her kind".

I leaned in really close to him, just inches away from his face and told him exactly what I thought of his actions. I told him in no uncertain terms what I'd do if he so much as looked at her again. 

She reached for my hand as we drove home, and I saw the tears in her eyes as she said "Why doesn't he like me? I wasn't even bothering him". My heart was broken at the idea of even having to have this conversation. But I needed her to hear this, to really let this sink in: "There is NOTHING wrong with you. He is the problem". 

I need for her to understand that his ignorance and hatred toward her is not a cloak she has to button up and wear around. Who she is was determined by her Maker, not by the actions of a nasty old man who thrives off of bitterness. She is love, life, happiness, beauty, courage, strength, and peace. She is a conquerer. She is whole. She is a daughter of the Most High King, a real live princess. He cannot change who she is because who she is was accomplished in Christ. 

I need for her to know that NO ONE has the right to treat her poorly. No one has the right to inflict harm upon her. I need her to know that she has a voice too, and she can speak against injustice. So we practiced shouting "You don't have the right to hurt me. No one does!". And we laughed together at how dumb some people can be. And as I held her, I prayed that her heart is protected against the hurling darts that are bound to come against her again at some point in life. I pray she knows that her home here is a haven against that. Always.

I realize that there are people who believe that prejudice doesn't exist in this world. Well, they are wrong. It DOES exist. And what my daughter experienced today is nothing compared to the atrocities that happen to people all over the world.

I cannot be silent. I cannot sit and allow some idiot to spit at my daughter as if she were an object and not a little girl. I won't stand for it. Because if I do, I'm just as much a part of the problem as that old man. If I sit silently and allow prejudice to go unchecked, refusing to call it what it is, then I'm as disgusting as that sputum hurled across a store on the back of an innocent little girl. I refuse to live like that. 

Our daughters and sons, neighbors, friends, and strangers are watching to see how we will respond to this. If we call ourselves followers of Christ, we best be acting like him. And I know Christ wouldn't stand idly by and watch a grown man hurl a loogie at a little girl because he "doesn't like her kind". 

There are times that anger is called for. I'd go so far as to say that anger is holy at times. And necessary. And quite frankly, I'm angry. 

It's time to take a stand. I'm in; are you?

Heroes among us

He was my first best friend. I adored him. Still do, if truth be told. He always played with me, included me (albeit sometimes reluctantly) with his friends. As a teenager, he took me to my first concert (Hank Jr! Seriously.). He bought me my first pair of cowgirl boots, and they. were. awesome. He used to pretend there was a monster in the closet and scare the daylights out of me. He infuriated me when he'd talk about a "woman's place is in the kitchen" just to rile me up. One time I literally chased him with a frying pan, swinging with all my might at him and cracked the paneling in the living room. He knew how to push my buttons.

I one time told the (Pretty large really large) guy down the street who was picking on me that "My brother will come down here and kick your butt!". Then I went home to beg him to please do it. Never mind that Chris was a lot smaller than that guy!

He one time burst into the room where my dad was about to give me a spanking to come to my rescue. I was screaming like I was being killed. Truth was that my dad hadn't even touched me, but Chris was going to make sure I was okay. He threw open the door, yelled "Get your hands off my sister!" only to find that my dad was still on the other side of the room giving me the "this is gonna hurt me more than it does you" speech. In a split second, I watched as my dad grabbed Chris, said "You don't tell me what to do" and gave him the spanking I deserved. (Sidenote: My dad was NOT ABUSIVE! Our parents spanked, and we deserved it. We learned right from wrong from their discipline, and all is well in the world)

In all of this, though, Chris was sick. Diagnosed at just 18 months with diabetes, I watched him suffer. A lot. I watched as he received injections of insulin every day, multiple times a day. I watched as his fingers were pricked for blood sugar testing. I watched as he had insulin reactions at times. I watched as he had to limit sugar intake while all the other kids were sucking down Kool-aid and Coca-Cola like crazy. I watched as he struggled with vision loss from retinopathy.I watched as his body took much longer to heal from things that others could heal from because of his disease. I watched.

Once, we were home alone when he had an insulin reaction. It is still vividly stuck in my mind, not the sickness itself, but the feeling of helplessness I felt that day. I remember that day saying to myself, "I never want to not know what to do when someone is sick again". Chris is the reason I'm a nurse today. He was my inspiration through all of those nursing exams and clinical days and studying for Boards.

In the past several years, I've watched as Chris's kidneys have begun to shut down. It's nothing he's done wrong. It's the wear and tear from the disease of Diabetes. We often belittle diabetes to just "cutting out sugar and carbs", but it's deadly folks. There's nothing little about diabetes. And Chris has dealt with it almost his entire life. So his kidneys have suffered a great deal, to the point of needing a transplant. I can't even tell you how hard it is to watch one of your life's biggest heroes struggle like that. The helplessness is painful.

But..oh, there's a great "but" here!
But God knew this day would come.

In 1990, I met a guy flipping hamburgers at the BCM on EKU's campus. He was handsome and eventually we fell in love. He was the first guy that my brother ever said "Don't screw this up, Holly. I like him". The first time I brought that guy home to meet my family, Chris learned that he could juggle. He proceeded to pull things out of the refrigerator and throw them at Jeff to see how much he could handle. He even pulled a ham out! And Jeff juggled it without batting an eye!

Jeff and I married, grew a family, and life went on as it has a way of doing. And all the while, inside of Jeff was a kidney that matched my brother. We didn't know it; I always assumed mine would match as his sibling, but nope. Not mine. Not our parents. Not his wife or daughter. Jeff's. And what's more, Jeff was more than willing to sacrifice that kidney for my brother to have a new lease on life.

How do I even explain how this feels? The love of my life offering a gift that will save the life of my first best friend. I'm not sure there are enough words in the world to adequately explain this. What I do know is this: I am profoundly thankful for this. And I'm profoundly proud of this. I'm proud of how Chris has faced kidney failure, with faith that has never waivered and courage that is humbling. I'm proud of how selflessly Jeff has offered his kidney, never once stopping to think of himself, but saying "I love my brother in law, so why not?"

Folks, this is love. This is what it means to be a follower of Christ, on both ends of the spectrum, as the giver or the recipient. John 15:13 says "Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends". Jeff's not gonna die, nope. But he is sacrificing. And Chris has lived a life that is honorable to Christ by never questioning God's sovereignty over him. I've had a front row seat to both sides, and I'll tell ya that it's pretty amazing.

Pray for these two, my brother and my husband. October 16th is the big day. We covet your prayers. Thanks be to God for how he provides. And to Him be all the glory!



The Winner!

I failed to announce here the winner of the Jen Hatmaker book. Congrats to Tony Suddath! Hope you are challenged as much as I have been by this book! For the rest of you fine folks, thanks for playing along!

A confession and a FREE giveaway!

Today, I was yelled at over the phone by a client's parent. I wasn't surprised; it certainly wasn't the first time I've been yelled at in my work. In fact, last year I kept what I jokingly referred to as the "B**** Count 2013", and let me tell you that it got up to 95 for the year (one star for every time a client called me a "B")!

When we were in Florida last month, Jeff took me on my VERY FAVORITE dolphin cruise (The Little Toot!) for our anniversary. Seriously people, this is the best dolphin cruise ever, and I've been known to get more than a little giddy when those dolphins jump right out of the water. But last month... no dolphins. Two hours on the water, and not one stinkin' dolphin. Nada. Zilch. I may or may not have pouted a little.

There's a wasp nest roughly the size of Minnesota outside my bathroom window.

My daughter can't seem to grasp the concept of no food in her room, so I found 14 Goldfish under her bed when we were cleaning/redoing her bedroom last weekend. Thankfully, it wasn't sausage like I found in her room last time. Yes, sausage. By the time I found it, it was black and soupy. We need not go there again.

My son's room looks like a tsunami went through, and it smells like the Green Bay Packers rolled around in there after a full day of practice.

I haven't been to Ethiopia in 16 months now. I Miss it. I miss my friends there.

I don't like the way one thing in my closet fits me. Not one. It's because I'm fat, and I'm working on it. But still. not one item.

Our grass got so high last week that I could have mowed the face of Abraham Lincoln as a maze and charged admission for the kids in Richmond to wonder through. I didn't.

Our basement is in shambles because the dang A/C unit leaked water (for the THIRD FREAKIN' TIME) and ruined the floor again. We've been so busy with new semester stuff and life that we haven't even gone to the store to see if the flooring is still in stock or we have to replace the whole kit and kaboodle. For now, a large portion is ripped out and it's an absolute mess.

My left ankle is currently the size of a baby's head. I'm considering drawing a face on it.

I could go on and on with things in my life that I deem "unfair" or "bad". But that would be stupid and fruitless. And 100% selfish.

You see, while I lament about not seeing dolphins and a basement floor that turned to oatmeal, people are suffering without a clean drink of water. While I mope because I haven't gotten to fly to Ethiopia, people are contracting Ebola and dying. While I fret because I got called a name that I don't like at work, people are jobless and homeless. While I am frustrated at the dirty and stinky rooms my kids have, there are those who have lost their children.

I've spent a great deal of time lately praying that God would give me new eyes. I've asked him to bring to mind the things that I used to freak out about and whine about, and then to change how I see them now. And he has done just that.

In the grand scheme of things, who cares if someone calls me names? Does it hurt? Yep, it stings a little because quite frankly, I'm not racist or a b****. But I don't know the situation that person who called me those names is in, and I've asked that God give me a love for her (and all the others!). I am tired of being side-tracked by something as trivial as a name-calling that I forget to love people in my path.

The truth is that I'm not the things she called me, but I AM SELFISH. And chances are that you are too. We all are at times, aren't we? Isn't it easy to get so wrapped up in our every day that we fail to see that people in our communities are dying and suffering and alone? Isn't it easy to forget that some of the day to day "problems" that bind us are really just minor incoveniences when compared to the plight of the homeless and those living in dire poverty all over the world? Isn't it easy to be so focused on #1 that we fail to see true need, true suffering?

I'm not trying to say we never have reason to grieve or that we don't have real problems. Believe me; I have plenty of friends suffering with real life, real hard stuff right now.. cancer, disease, divorce, addiction, abuse, abandonment. I've dealth with real stuff myself...death, infertility, rape, depression, a wandering child, etc, etc.

The difference is that I have hope, the everlasting hope.

I'm reading Jen Hatmaker's "Interrupted", and I have to tell you that once again I'm deeply convicted that the way I live out my faith is often a disservice to God. Hear me out. I read my bible, and I pray, and I know God is pleased with those things because it brings me closer to him. But I also drive by people in need, ignore the plight of those in need in my own community because it's not convenient for me, and make excuses about why I can't go serve overseas right now because I don't have enough time or money or whatever. And sometimes, those things are true. And sometimes, it's nothing but a pack of crap that I tell myself to make me feel better about disobeying God's call on my life to make him famous, to be extravagant for him.

Years ago, after my first trip to Africa (Uganda), I found myself in tears every time I walked into the grocery store because I could envision all of those sweet faces that I'd touched who were going without that day. I've often said that after trips to Ethiopia, I come back in a bit of culture shock at how spoiled we Americans really are in regard to clean water and other basic necessities of life (Not to mention our wants!)And yet, here I am, in some ways back to the mentality I had before my eyes were ever opened, complaining and throwing a tantrum about stupid, unimportant things.

So, this is my confession to you all. I have confessed to God and he has (Once again) faithfully forgiven. But I tell you all to hold me accountable in my attitude. Because my life HAS BEEN INTERRUPTED... and interrupted for good. I don't want to be the same person I was before. I don't want to pretend I don't know the plight of others. I have no idea why God would choose to place me here in my easy world instead of in another country, fighting for justice and enough food to sustain me for the day. But I do know that I can do something extraordinary with this life he has given me.

I can love

And you can too.

Are you in?

I've got a copy of Interrupted by Jen Hatmaker that I'd love to give away. Comment here and I'll randomly choose a winner on Friday!

Spiritual warfare

I've heard a lot of people say that they don't believe in Spiritual warfare. The idea that there are forces of another realm out there battling for us- our minds, hearts, spirits, devotion, everything- seems a little "out there" to some. I have to disagree. First, the Bible is clear that this is the case, that we "are not fighting against flesh and blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places" (Ephesians 6:2)

But y'all, I don't just believe it because the Bible says it (although that is enough reason for me to believe it!). I believe it because I have and AM experiencing it.
Let me explain.

For the past 7 years, my faith in Christ has gone to a new level. It's not a superficial Sunday-only kind of thing. It's my LIFE, my everything. I cannot live without my Jesus, plain and simple. I don't want to live without my husband and family, but I could (that's a hard thought, but I mean it sincerely). Without Christ, I'm just done. I am at a loss for words on how to describe this love I have for One I've never seen with my physical eyes, yet feel so deeply in my soul.

Ever since this deepening, I've noticed a trend. When something big is happening, or God is calling me and my family to something deeper or special, Satan begins to attack. Every. Single. Time. When we go to Ethiopia to serve, something happens here. Our house starts falling apart, cars fail, kids go nuts (literally and figuratively), finances get tighter, jobs feel uncertain, health issues arise. Heck, twice before going to Ethiopia in the past, I've wound up in a cast or a boot just weeks before. Two years ago, I had to have my gallbladder out just before our trip. I could go on.

Some would chalk this up to coincidence, but I don't believe in coincidence.

This morning, my husband and a group of BCM students with Experience 1:8 (along with some folks from Shelbyville First Baptist) left for Guatemala. They've got a busy week ahead of them serving the people there, leading Vacation Bible School with children and serving at local churches. God has great things in store, no doubt. And here's how I know:

Last night, I argued (loudly) with my son. I can't even tell you the last time we did that (Seriously, it's been a long time). It was stupid and a total misunderstanding on both of our sides, but it was ugly and hurtful. And I have to believe that it was just another dagger from Satan to distract Jeff from his purpose while in Guatemala. You see, this is on top of the septic problem we recently had that ruined the bathroom floor in the basement (that stunk, LITERALLY!). It comes after the air conditioner that went out two weeks ago, as part of what we thought was an easy fix, only to go out again, leak gallons and gallons of water all over the basement and destroy the floor there FOR THE THIRD TIME! Third. time. people. As Jeff has prepared to go, I've watched him pull up flooring more times than I care to count. Our basement is in a royal mess as I type, and frankly I do not care. This morning, my son is running a fever, and my daughter was in tears for no apparent reason, even while we were on our way to have her hair done like she has wanted for many months.

Here's the deal. Satan can throw the darts, break the air conditioner, destroy our floors, make us argue amongst ourselves, put roadblocks in our way. But he cannot win.

Psalm 27:2 tells me "When my enemies and my foes came upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and fell". Jesus has our back.

But it gets even better, y'all! In Luke 10:19-20, Jesus tells his disciples (and us!) this:
"And I have given you authority over all the power of the enemy, and you can walk among snakes and scorpions and crush them. Nothing will injure you. But don't rejoice just because evil spirits obey you; rejoice because your names are registered as citizens of heaven"

So, let it come. Whatever Satan has for our family this week, we will stand, not as those who have no hope, not as defeated people. But we will stand firm in the fullness of God's grace, knowing that no matter what comes, we are His and He is ours. We have authority over satan because of Jesus, and I for one, am not taking that lightly. So this week, I will put on my armor and fight the things I cannot see through prayer and worship. I'll praise God for the opportunity Jeff and this team have to serve, and I'll joyfully stand in prayer for them while I'm at home holding down the fort (and hopefully it stays together!).

Pray for the team in Guatemala this week please. And pray for us as we wait patiently for them to come home.

Blessings~