He's My Daddy, Not My Dictator

I have a friend from my school days who is an atheist. I watched him walk down the road of doubt until he finally arrived at his destination of unbelief in anything other than science and himself.

But we remained friends, respectful of each other’s views. He often questioned me about my faith. How can I be sure, out of all the religions in the world, that I am right?

Now as adults, we don’t hang out, but we are friends through social media and we have been able to keep in touch every now and again. And he is still questioning me about my faith.

As an adult, it is not always as easy as it was when we were just kids. The issues are bigger, more controversial, and more emotional. But we still talk.

One day, as I was answering one of his questions, I replied, “God loves us like a Father, not like a dictator.”

That comment, from the Holy Spirit no doubt, has stuck with me and God began to teach me more about Himself, from that one concept.

Ten years ago I would’ve told you I had an accurate understanding of God. I might have said that I did not understand Him to be an authoritarian figure, but rather as a loving figure. But that is false. I did understand Him in an authoritarian way.

But over the last few months, my understanding of Him has changed and grown into an image of a loving Father, who is not wagging His finger in my face forcing me to do what is right. Rather He is a loving Father who is cautioning me, loving me, and pleading with me to choose righteousness over evil. My Father has not condemned me, but continually calls me to Himself, calling me back from the edge, to rest in His loving arms.

His vessels for my lessons have come in the form of these tiny little human beings that make my heart beat faster, and take my breath away. I call them my children and every day God shows me more and more, through them, how much He truly loves me.

The other day my sweet 9 year old asked, “Mom, if God knew that we were going to sin and do bad things, (because God knows everything) why did He create us in the first place?”

I had to pause. It’s a hard question to answer, and I’m not sure I really know the answer. So said a quick prayer and asked for wisdom and then God said, “Look at your kids. You knew they have potential to, and inevitably will, disobey you, hurt you, and possibly turn their back on you. Why did you choose to have them with that knowledge?”

That is an even more difficult question to put into words. How can I describe the color yellow? How can I describe my love and my desire for my children, TO my children?

 My answer was simply nothing more than, I was compelled to bring these little human beings into my family. I was compelled by love for someone I did not even know. And now I know why this innate force to procreate is so powerful.

Having them has enriched my life, and my human experience would be incomplete without them. Even if they ultimately reject me, breaking my heart beyond repair, the pain is worth the amount of love I have been given the privilege to experience and call my own. They are worth taking the chance. My children, and the moments I have spent with them, have been among the best in my human experience. I want to give them the chance to be part of my life, and to choose me, rather than save myself the hurt and pain and live my life without loving another human being in such a way. Because that sacred love that I have for them, has blessed me. And if they choose to love me back, then my life is that much more enriched! If they reject me, at least I loved.

God said, “Me too.” 

The Last Empire

Amanda’s mind swirled with confusion, plans, lists, ideas, and demands on her time and energy. There were only a few hours in the day and every single second seemed to be claimed by her long to-do list.
She chased down the baby and put his shoes and shirt on him. The older two boys were laughing and swinging their foam swords around making sound effects as if they were the most powerful Jedi’s in the universe.
“Come on! We need to get going. I have to get back and start dinner so we can make it to soccer practice on time tonight.” Amanda pleaded with her rowdy boys.

They rushed out the door into the humid, New Orleans air, nudging her family toward the van while they were laughing and playing all the way.

Amanda went over her list in her head again. “Milk! Don’t forget the milk. And bread! If we are having pizza for dinner then I will need a crust, a sauce, cheese and toppings. Don’t forget anything!” She whispered to herself.

An hour later she corralled the kids around the cash register and began to wait, trying to go over her list again and make sure she purchased everything she needed. The waiting in line never bothered her, but it always made the kids less than happy. Being the innovative mom that she was, she quickly pointed them to the little toys in the check out aisle, trying to divert their attention from all the ridiculous candy they were begging her to buy.

As their attention was finally drawn away and they settled into playing with tiny etch a sketches, play cell phones, and little flashlights, Amanda’s attention drifted to the headlines on the popular magazines. Nothing seemed very interesting. She didn’t much care about which celebrity had the most cellulite, the latest celebrity meltdown, or how to boost her metabolism and lose 30 pounds in 20 minutes.

As she lingered over the bright magazine with a beautiful 3-layer chocolate cake on the cover, something else caught her eye. Seeming out of place, a drab, dark blue magazine redirected her attention to its hiding place among the brightly colored and carefully crafted reading material that surrounded it. It looked as if it had been stuffed in behind all the other magazines, almost as if it was intentionally hidden. It had no pictures of models or celebrities on the front. Just the corner stuck out and Amanda could read the word “Free” in tiny print.

She loved the word “free” and always had a place in her heart for a humble publication, so she pulled the strange looking magazine out from its hideaway. It was nothing; just a blank, dark blue cover with the tiny word “Free” written in the corner.

Curious, Amanda felt compelled to open the magazine and read what could be contained in something so lackluster and boring.

The title page was the first page she came to. How to Survive the End of the United States of America.

She chuckled loud enough for her children to take notice when she considered the rediculousness the small publication was claiming. Why would the greatest nation and power on earth ever come to an end, at least within her lifetimes. Especially in such a way that one would need to learn preparation and survival skills?

Althought she considered it to be some sort of joke, or at least some kind of conspiracy theory publication, it still seemed peculiar enough that her it had whetted her appetite for more information and awakened her curiosity. What could this little book possibly contain? Was it a fiction story? Was it a hoax? Whatever it was, Amanda thought it strange. It was just the type of thing she would investigate during her former years as a reporter for The Times-Picayune.

Amanda began to turn the page as the lady behind her inquired, clearly annoyed, “Are you going to pay for your groceries? You’re next.” Amanda had completely forgotten about her groceries and her children for that matter. She had been sucked into a world of discovery and intrigue.

But at that moment, Amanda could see the irritation and lack of patience from the business woman standing behind her in line with nothing but a loaf of bread and a bag of chips in her hand. She knew her basketful would take much longer, not to mention all the coupons she had stashed in her billfold. The end result was going to be a huffy, irritated, tired woman trying to get home from work as she waited for the frazzled mom with three loud and rambunctious children running back and forth in front of her.

“Why don’t you go ahead of me,” Amanda said as politely as possible. “You have less than I do.”

The woman didn’t hesitate to go on ahead of Amanda. As she moved herself up in line, Amanda contemplated her next move. She was so curious about this little book she had found, and she wanted to read more in it. But there was still a line behind her. She couldn’t just stand here and read and let each customer check out in front of her until she was finished reading.

It suddenly occurred to her, “This is free. What am I worried about? Just take the darn thing home with you.”

As she neared the cashier, Amanda made sure to check with the teenage cashier, mindlessly running groceries, and household items across her scanner. “Is this really free?” Amanda inquired.

The teenager looked up from her computer screen and with a blank look shrugged her shoulders.

There was no bar code anywhere on the book. So Amanda stuffed the homely magazine into her already overstuffed purse, hoping it would not fall out in the commotion of getting children and groceries home. She desperately wanted to read the contents, but she also knew it would be hours before the kids would be in bed, her husband would be sleeping on the couch, and the house would finally be quiet. She would just have to wait, for now, to discover how to survive the end of the United States as we know it, or at least be wholly entertained.

God Bring Healing

Raw emotions are painful. I feel so much emotion today that I want to process it all, but it is too raw. I thought if I had something significant to say about all that is going on, some truth about God’s love in difficult times, then it would purge that lump in my throat and dry my tears.

But as I sit to write, there are no words, just raw emotion. I have all those truths about God and his love in my head and in my heart, but they cannot be translated into words today.

All I can do is translate the emotions into tears, and prayers and cries for help.

I know in the end it will all be okay. It will all be good and it will all be a blessing. Everything about these circumstances point to a blessing. But someone I love is hurting so deep that there is no healing salve to soothe the pain. There are no words that can bring comfort. There are no arms strong and warm and comforting enough to be wrapped around a breaking, hurting heart. And I love that heart, and so mine breaks too.

All I can ask is that God will soothe the pain with his Holy Spirit. I pray that God will speak the words of hope and joy into the ears of the hurting. And that God will hide her sweet soul under his wing, comforting her in his loving arms.

And I pray that He will make it all go away. I don’t care right now, what His will is. I want Him to make it all… GO. AWAY. And that’s what I pray for. I pray everything we know now is just a mistake. One big mistake. Or even better I pray for healing. I pray that for all that we know right now, He would bring healing, astounding doctors and nurses and leave them questioning, “How can this happen?”

Because sometimes, the pain washes over, taking every bit of joy with it. And all we can do is fight against what we don’t want to accept, until we are ready.

After I was injured by a brush hog, my leg was mutilated and crudely put back together. The doctor came in to tell my mother just how extensive my injuries were, giving her the worst case scenario. It was devastating to her. He was trying to tell her, I might not walk again. I probably would never run. He was trying to tell her, I would be severely crippled. But all she could say was, "You mean she'll never wear high heels?"

The doctor was confused, but he answered her question. "Probably not."

That was the extent of what my mother could handle at that moment. She could accept that I might not wear high heels. But she wasn't ready to face the fact that I might not walk or run.

She eventually let it all sink in. She eventually accepted my prognosis. But only in her own time.

And sadly, I know we are not alone. I know there are so many out there facing diagnoses, illness, injury, or something else that will change life forever. And that moment you know, life will never be the same, is the moment you can't breath. I don't know what it is like to be diagnosed with cancer or have a family member diagnosed with cancer. I don't know what it is like to face so many horrible things that others face. But I do know we all face horrible things, and we all must learn to live with them. And eventually, come back to the hope we have in Jesus, that one day our loved ones will be in heaven, completely perfect and healed. We will be in heaven and we will cry no more. We have the hope that this horribly imperfect world is not all there is to life. Fortunately, it is only the beginning.

When emotions are raw, and all I can do is cry, I cling to my faith. I cling to the hope my faith gives me. But most of all, I cling to and hold on to the faith I have in the incredible love my Father has lavished on me and my loved ones. Because the greatest of these is His love.

NEXT Worldwide and the Wilson Family

***Urgent Update and Request***

The Wilson family needs your help! They must reach their goal to raise $16,000 by the end of the month, or Ron might be required to step away from his ministry to the people in places like Ecuador and Romania, in order to raise more funding.

The Wilsons have just 2 months before that happens. This month, they have received a donation toward their ministry that has done a great deal to help fund their ministry, but they still have a long way to go. This seems like a lot of money to us, but we know that it is God from whom all riches flow, that it is God who turns the hearts of men and women to give, and nothing is impossible to Him. But, the word needs to be spread that the Wilsons need your help!

It is the end of the year, and you may be looking for just the right place to give your final donations for tax purposes. Or maybe you or a family member would rather give a gift this Christmas that is stored in the Kingdom of Heaven rather than here on earth, by giving to a couple of missionaries who have just been faithful to answer the call God gave them.

 
Ron is asking for those that are willing, to become partners with him and his family in the coming year and commit to just $15 a month toward their ministry at NEXT. Please pray about becoming a long term partner with this precious family.

Whatever it may be, the Wilsons need your help to reach their goal. I pray, and I know they pray, that God would move the hearts of people to invest in the lives of those that do not know Jesus as their Savior and invest in the ministry of NEXT Worldwide.

Please repost this for more and more people to see and to be given the opportunity to give. And pray for Ron and Keri as they continue to walk in faith toward their calling. Pray for Keri as she travels to India at the end of the month to share the Gospel with the people there. Pray for Ron as he continues to minister to his family and to those he reaches through NEXT. And pray for Keri's Pampered Chef business to grow and thrive in order to help the family continue to minister with NEXT.

To make a donation to the Wilson's ministry go here. Choose the link, "Give to a Staff Member", and choose to give to Ron Wilson.

If you missed this post the first time, please read all about the Wilsons and the work they are doing all over the world.

Meet the Wilsons!

Keri Wilson has been a friend of mine for 7 years now. We met while our husbands were attending seminary in New Orleans and we both attended the same play group. Our kids were just toddlers at the time, and through afternoons at McDonald's, the park, and even a fun trip to the beach, Keri and I grew to know each other more and more over the course of two years.

However, it wasn't until after we had left seminary that our friendship grew into what it is today. We kept in contact through email, and eventually Facebook.
About 3 years ago, Keri and her husband, Ron, were thrust into a whirlwind of obedience and chaos as they began to seek God's next step for their life. Ron was a youth minister in Kentucky and both he and Keri felt God was leading them to become part of a missions organization called Next Worldwide.
The couple struggled through a few concerns over a period of 6 months before they committed to becoming missionaries. At that point they began to raise funds to support their new mission in leading youth in missions.

Next Worldwide is a ministry that partners with missionaries all over the world to plant churches. However, they do it in a unique way that impacts our own culture and society. They lead youth to be the missionaries.

While serving as a youth pastor on staff at church, Ron found that mission trips were the key to unlocking the heart of a youth to the glory of God. As a missionary for Next, Ron leads youth groups to Ecuador, Africa, Romania and other countries to aid in the planting of churches. Ron stays connected to the missionaries in those places and makes several trips to do the work for those church plants.

In essence, NEXT uses the youth to be the hands and feet of the work needed for reaching a lost world with the Gospel.
But that is not all.
The youth are impacted as much as the culture to which they travel. Ron uses the time he has with each youth group to teach and disciple them to a closer relationship with Christ. Their hearts are soft and open and ready to hear in a way they have never heard before, while they are on mission, serving God and His Great Commission without the interruptions and distractions of every day life. NEXT Worldwide found a unique way to expand the mission field to not only a foreign, unreached people, but also to the next generation of Americans as well.
Ron and Keri live in Roanoke, TX with their 3 kids, Halle, Landry and Brady. They love football, youth, and most of all, God. Keri works hard to build her Pampered Chef business in order to help the family financially, so that they may continue to minister to those that are lost all over the world. I have never met a person like Keri who inspires me, encourages me with the truth, and displays the rewards of persevering in faith.
Ron and Keri depend on raising support in order to fund their mission work and just as importantly, to live and raise their children. Currently, they have received about 64% of what they need for the year they are in need of $16,000 by the end of the month. They are needing more people to partner with them in prayer and financially. Please pray about how you can help support these missionaries.
If you feel God is leading you to support the Wilsons financially, or know of someone who might, please go here and make a donation to their ministry and share this information. Make sure you choose that the donation go directly to Ron Wilson on the staff.

If you cannot help support the Wilson's financially, would you please pray for this precious family. So often Ron leaves his family behind to be the missionary. Keri and her kids have a wonderful attitude about sending their daddy off to reach a lost world. They do it with a happy heart. But it is still difficult for them and it often requires the strength only God can give.
Ron also needs prayer as he not only reaches new cultures and peoples with the Gospel, but his responsibility is great as he plans, leads, teaches and disciples each group that becomes missionaries along side him.
If you are interested in knowing more about taking a youth group with Next, go here to get more information.

You can help us spread the word. If you have a blog, would you consider putting a link to this for the Wilsons, or to your Facebook or twitter page? The more people that know, the more support and prayer we can help raise for a family who has surrendered their life of comfort and security for an even greater purpose: to see nations, including our own, come to know our Savior.

How delightful it is to see approaching over the mountains the feet of a messenger who announces peace,a messenger who brings good news, who announces deliverance,who says to Zion, “Your God reigns!”

Isaiah 52:7

*The Wilsons did not ask me to do this for them. God has not sent me, but He has asked me to support those He has sent, and this is just one way I am supporting God's work, and one way I can spread the word WORD.

What do you think?

One of my students wrote some beautiful poetry during the few weeks we studied poetry in my creative writing class. She was nervous to share, and read out loud. In fact, I read them for her.
She even said, "Poetry is not my forte." But she clearly has some talent in rhyme!
I told her, "These are really good! You should be proud!"

But, alas, she felt that I would only compliment her in such a way because I am her teacher. Well, she may be onto something. I certainly wouldn't tell her that she stinks at writing, that just isn't what a good teacher does. But, I was telling the truth. Her poems are really good.

I convinced her to let me share them on my blog, with complete strangers, to find out what people really think of her writing.
So tell her, what do you think? Be honest, but please be nice no matter what you think.

Day Dream

The night sky, so full of beauty,

With the night breeze, it was chilly

I lied out all night,

Anticipating morning's first light.

When the sun raised from its slumber,

I was filled with awe and wonder.

As the clouds floated by,

I swore I could fly,

Like a bird, I was forever free,

No pain, no pity,

I just left behind the world and dreamed.

_______________________________________________________________________

Light and Darkness

The sun is so warm,

It warms the heart inside out,

It cheers the grieved mind.

The moon is so cold,

Yet is so beautiful,

It soothes the mad man.

The stars are so bright,

They light up the night’s darkness,

Always there to shine.

________________________________________________________________________

My Life

Life goes by,

People live, people die,

I want to leave something behind,

Not a meaningless lie.

I try to be kind,

But I've made up my mind,

I'm gonna be who I want to be,

And that won't be hard to find.

I'll sail the sea,

I'll be free.

I'm going to do what I want,

I'm going to be me.

__________________________________________________________________________

A Poem: Time Chugs On

I know I said I would be writing more, and I have. I just forget to post it on here. I have more stories to share, soon.

In the meantime, here is my poem for the week. My class is working on poetry this week, and this morning we will have a Cafe Day and Poetry Reading. We are going to drink coffee, dress like poets and read our poems. I am very excited to hear what my students wrote. Here is my poem I wrote this morning at boot camp, where I ran for 30 minutes for the first time EVER! Yay!

Time Chugs On

It is said “time marches on,”

As if it is an army,

Consistently,

Rrhythmically,

Marching forward.

I say time is a train.

Some occasions it meanders through hills and valleys,

Taking its sweet time as we wait;

For baby’s arrival,

Illness to end,

The Sun to show its shining face

In a cloudy situation.

Some occasions, it crashes into the heart of my home,

Pulling loads of chaos,

Loss of memories and moments,

Hauling away pudgy fingers and legs,

And Hugs and kisses.

It brings with it a blaring whistle

That says, “Goodbye, precious moments, that are much too short.”

All the while, the train chugs along.

I am forever the tiny caboose,

Clinging to every last moment,

Watching as each one fades into the distance,

Wishing I could wrap up each giggly kiss,

Each chubby bear hug,

Every single, I love you Mommy,

And Put it in my pocket,

To hold in my hands just one more time.

My Return to Writing: The Alien Story

It's been a while. Taking care of a household and homeschooling 5 children has not left me a great deal of time for writing. Especially this year. I have done away with alot of my curriculum and now I am gathering and writing my own curriculum for both math and history. I love the new found freedom, but it also takes up a lot more time!

Another addition to my schedule is 3 creative writing classes that I teach at our local homeschool co-op. I very much enjoy the interaction with the kids, and the challenge to come up with writing assignments. We have lots of fun and I have been fulfilling their assignments right along with them each week which has resulted in my return to writing!
I would like to share with you some of our assignments and my interpretation of each assignment.

This first one is a descriptive essay. Pretend you are an alien visiting our planet for the first time, making an effort to describe what you see. Can you figure out what my alien is describing?

The strange birds that inhabit this planet are more frightening than intriguing. They do vary in color, size and shape as one would expect, but their behavior is peculiar.


Each bird is stiff and rigid as it goes about its business on the land and in the air. Some are brilliantly colored with shades of the planet’s large star and others are colored with the silvery shimmer of the planet’s atmosphere. Most fall into the mundane and boring category with very little color at all.



Their feathers are stiff and hard looking, like a rock. There is no flutter in their wings. Rather they hold them out straight with only a bounce or two as they move about.



Moving is another odd behavior of these large, colossal birds. Their movement is smooth and controlled. They glide along the ground the same as they glide in the air. Their feet are not typical either. Instead of flat feet, their feet are round and turn as they glide.



Even more strange is how they behave as they fly and land. It seems only one bird can take flight at a time and must do so in only a handful of places. All the other birds will wait in a line as one takes off. Each bird will run down a long stretch of ground that is smoother than the entire floor around it. The path is long and straight and seems to only be used by these monster birds for taking flight or landing.



As they roll along the smooth path, the monster birds make a whirring noise that is constant and without relent until they finally stop. As they stop the whirring seems to wind down from a high pitch to a lower pitch until it stops altogether. Usually, they stop at a larger species of some sort, as if the two species have a symbiotic relationship. The monster bird walks up to the larger species and waits for a long period of time. Other species then tend to the colossal birds as they feed it small rectangular and square shaped boxes. Although it does not eat through its mouth, but rather the boxes are fed directly into the belly of the monster bird. At the same time, it seems to drink from a straw, but again not from its mouth, but rather from its belly.



Once it seems to have had its fill of food and drink, the bird again begins its loud whirring sound, starting off low and getting higher. As it starts to move, this is only in a forward and backward movement with difficulty turning, the monster bird whirrs louder and louder. As it places itself along the long stretch of ground that it must use for flight, the whirring gets louder and higher pitched until it turns into a roar. It starts running down the path getting faster and faster until the path is almost completely gone. The moment before the bird runs out of its unique trail, the bird lifts its nose and becomes airborne.



The most noticeable trait of the colossal birds as we arrived on this planet was their smell. They emit a smell that is unlike anything around them, but only when they are roaring and moving. It smells sharp and pungent and it is difficult to breathe the air around them.



These birds are peculiar indeed.