There is always a story waiting to be told.
Grab a cup of coffee and join me as I share some Salt & Light.
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Heart Day


Driving back from Grafton was reminiscent of 10 years ago - yet having the kids with me in the car made it surreal, and powerful. The long drive on the highway after a long day at the hospital, feeling both exhausted and energized, felt like it did when I drove home from Northwestern in Chicago after Mark had his kidney-pancreas transplant. It was difficult to leave Mark at the hospital then, what to me felt like “alone”, but I had to get home to the then two-year-old Remy and four month old Dax. I wanted to be both places, but had to choose one. There was nothing I could do whether I was at the hospital or not. Even tonight I, I know now more than ever that God’s got this. But I still wish I was there in the room when they come to draw blood or check a blood pressure. It just “feels” better.  However, tonight on the drive home the kids and I talked. A lot. Man, did we TALK! We talked about my book, what I was titling it, what the cover would look like, what it was about (would today be in it?). How would revealing our private life in print to the world make them feel, what would people say, how would they be treated? We talked about being a Christian, being salt and light to others.  We talked about being persecuted as a Christian, for standing up for our beliefs. We talked about all that God has done in our lives, what He is doing right in this moment. We talked about all the “whys” we’ve experienced. What God is doing with the “whys” in Mark’s and my life, but also how He’ll use “whys” in their lives, too. We talked and I “preached” so much, that at one point I was worried I’d missed our exit and was half way to Green Bay

Things got repeated throughout the day. From stories, to prayers, to simple conversation – we know this:

No matter the situation or circumstances one thing is constant – God.

God is the same, yesterday, today, tomorrow.

There are angels among us. Angels are very real.

The Lord uses these situations not just for us, but for others. Who knows what kind of impact todays’ events might have on others… Christian’s and non alike.

No amount of thinking or worry is going to change what God has already written. So we pray!

So, today Mark and Remy played in a benefit softball tournament for Living Hope International through our church Word of Grace. They had already played two games and had had a long break. Mark had been having high blood sugars, and when they started to play the third game, Mark started getting severe cramps in his legs. He said he had never felt anything like it, ever before. The weather was extremely sunny and hot today, but Mark was staying hydrated and just could not make sense of it all. So, he took himself out of the game, and felt like he was going to be sick. He did not get sick, but made it to the bathroom and sat in a chair near the restrooms, I guess. He sat down and felt he was going to pass out, but only remembers coming to with everyone around him while he was flat on the concrete. Paramedics came and checked his blood sugar and apparently Mark was talking to them and others, but he does not remember it. When in the ambulance, they did an EKG and did not like the result, and started asking the heart attack questions… nausea, pain in chest, numbness, etc. Transport then changed from the local hospital to one a half hour away, as it is better equipped to handle a heart attack situation. Mark was given two bags of fluids in the ambulance and when they did the EKG at the hospital it looked good. Mark was still not in any pain, more like uncomfortable from the leg cramping. They drew up a ton of blood work for every function you can think of. The triponin level was elevated. This tells them about muscle damage to the heart.  This level is rechecked three or so times during a certain amount of time – like 12 hours or something. There was concern that if this level rises, they would want to do testing to look at the heart. This would require dye, and with his kidney post-transplant, he would require extra monitoring. They would move him to another hospital that was more equipped to handle a transplant patient. So there was potential of Mark being moved. So I got worried when the second level of triponin was also elevated. The nurse said when we left this evening that the Doctor had not called back about the levels, so at that time no news was good news. There still needs to be a few more labs to be done to draw a conclusion on the whole heart attack thing. Mark remains at the hospital tonight for monitoring. He had been moved to a room, eaten dinner and had a visit with our Pastor and his wife and my parents (they brought insulin pump supplies from home as Mark needed a site change! Of course he did!)  He has remained alert, never in any pain and considering today’s events - doing quite well. 

Thank you for all prayers. Keep them coming. I’ll keep you posted.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Where I'm At


We’ve moved into our new rental home. Everyone in the family is very excited, as it has been almost two and a half years since we have been in a home of our own. Moving has become somewhat of a regular affair for us, regular being a new abode every six months or so… well, twice was to my parents and once was my mother-in-law’s… Still, we’ve packed and unpacked boxes. Some, we just left packed. Until now - we are ready to empty boxes… and the storage unit... and my parent’s basement… and a friend’s basement, too. I can remember when we moved in to the house in Naperville, I said that it would be the last time I ever moved. I wanted to be buried in the backyard I said. That was 6 moves ago. Moving seems like not a big deal anymore. We have learned to live without so much stuff. It’s the people you live with that make the difference. Family makes a house a home. We have been blessed with wonderful families. Oh, how we are blessed.

In September of 2010, our pastor did a sermon series on “Storms”. In my notes, I jotted down what he said that morning (and I haven’t been the same since.) First, I simply wrote “Salt & Light is for others”. Then, “There are people waiting on the other side of the storm”. Then I scribbled Romans 8:28, which is - “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”

On that fall morning, I’m not sure I knew what God was saying to me just then. But, I know that those words that came out of Glen Quirk’s mouth were directly from God, directed toward me.  On the other side of my “storm”, people are waiting for me to minister. God put it on my heart to minister in a situation. God wants me to bring someone out of a storm. I want to Glorify Him, Exalt Him and Lead others to Him.

It was that very message that led us to Florida. Many don’t know the reason we moved to Florida in the first place or even understand how we could be moved as an answer to a calling. We moved to Florida because I felt called by God to move to Florida. Mark’s family lives in Jacksonville, and I felt God telling me that we needed to be there. When God speaks, you move. In this case… literally.

We didn’t know what a future in Florida held. We knew that we would be with family and near the beach. We found jobs and a church to call our home in no time at all. But, I didn’t feel God in that place.  I tried. Oh, how hard I tried. And the devil tried harder to attack my every thought and move. So I prayed. And God moved me yet again. Well, all four of us, actually. That’s when we prayerfully decided to move back to Wisconsin. It happened all so fast some people still think we live in Florida, others don’t even know we ever left Wisconsin. I worried that our “mission” in Florida had not been accomplished. What if we didn’t do what God had planned for us to do there? Had we planted a seed? Had we made a difference? We may never know. We simply need to trust that we have been obedient to God’s plan for us.

Around the time we started thinking about moving back to Wisconsin, I read a blog post by author John Katz. He stated, “Sometimes you need to leave the things you love to understand how much you care and how much they mean.” http://www.bedlamfarm.com/blog/2011/05/20/a-tough-place-to-leave-video-off-to-new-york/. Anyone that is familiar with Kohler knows it is a special place. Often times it feels surreal, in both a “Pleasantville” and “Stepford” kind of way. There were a number of reasons we considered when it came to our move back that had to do with the schools, jobs, and church, down to simply missing living in the Midwest. The old sayings, “You don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone” and “you can take the girl out of the [Midwest] but not the [Midwest] outta the girl”, certainly can stand true.

But on the other side of things, recently while listening to Joyce Meyer on the radio regarding developing discipline, she said, “You need to stay where you want to run away from – there is work to be done!” Wow. That hit me hard. When we left here a year ago, I was running. I was running from people, places and things… I often still feel like I want to crawl under a proverbial rock and hide. Some of this stems from my depression, some from our recent (and past) circumstances, or simply it’s from my own baggage. But just as I felt God was telling me to get out of the boat in the storm because people were waiting for me in Florida… there were also people I left here in Wisconsin with my unfinished story, when I had just begun telling it (or living it, for that matter). I know that God is working in me here… and I have much work to do. I have a lot yet to learn and much to embrace where I am at. This was confirmed to me today, as our new pastor said “As we are preached to, we then do the preaching.” We use our personal stories and experiences to give out the truth and love of God’s Word. And so it continues, here in Kohler, Wisconsin. More to come…

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Soup & Salt


The place that I work provides free soup to the employees daily. Two recent soups made me think about writing this post and what 2011 was to me and what the New Year has to offer. A few weeks back the soup was a chicken and broth, with some random vegetables. I am not a fan of the broth soups at work, preferring the rich and creamy soups. However, I never bring a lunch and am at the mercy of the soup provided. Beggars can’t be choosers. This particular broth soup was not very flavorful and was severely lacking salt. It had some herbs in it, but not enough to enhance the flavors in the soup by any means. Just the other day, again, it was a broth soup with chicken, huge carrot slices and some noodles. Seriously, I’m convinced they make the associate soup with the leftovers from the paying customers. I was hesitant to dive into another tasteless soup for lunch, but I ladled it into a cup nevertheless. This soup was delicious and salty! It was hearty without being heavy! It was so good and I was warm and toasty and ready to face my afternoon at work! So, what do these soups have anything to do with the year in review and ringing in the new? I feel like 2011was that first soup… It was bland. Sure it was full of things that were good and good for me (like the chicken – protein, and the vegetables that are healthy for me!), but it felt watered down and was just “okay”. 2011 had “stuff to it” like the herbs in the soup, but it lacked that flavor that salt provides to a dish, if you will. During the last year, I have heard God tell me repeatedly, “Salt and Light”. In many different ways and regarding many different things this has been the response from God. From the Message…

Matthew 5:13 "Let me tell you why you are here. You're here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You've lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage.” 

I have determined that my focus in 2012, and every year really, needs to be putting into action how we are called to be salt and light to others. “Christians should not blend in with everyone else. Instead, we should affect others positively, just as seasoning brings out the best flavor in food.” Stay tuned for more on my salty adventures and more of this story …

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Six months later

It's been six months already. Some odd 180 days. In part, I want to look at what is behind us. I mostly want to look to the future. For it is then, that we will be whole again. We're not even half way there yet. But, as of this past week, we are closer. Nine more months to go. Or a little less. But, what I think I am most surprised by is that all of a sudden, this six month mark, I am more depressed than ever. I am having an extremely difficult time dealing with life as I know it. Yes, this has do with the choices I've made to stay here in Wisconsin, to stay married to Mark, to be stripped of my pride, to not have a clue. Blah, blah, blah. 'You' all need to get over it. More so, it also has everything to do with the fact that I'm not giving up, giving in, nor have I stopped believing that my God is the one who Reigns. Sure, I have been really wondering if he hears me lately when I literally cry out to him. I wonder how He can care about lil ol' me amidst a world full of it's troubles. You know, bigger troubles than me and my life. But, He does. He can. I'm still entitled to feel the way I do. It doesn't make me a 'bad' Christian. It makes me human. It's why I need my God. In Mark 9:24 the father of a suffering child says to the Lord, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" He believes in Jesus, but he wrestles with his faith. He needs it strengthened. So do I.

I can have a bad day. I can feel like my little world is crashing down on me. Because, for me and my world, it is. I can feel like I have a bad life. No one can tell me my feelings are wrong. It's what I feel. There. I hate that I have to do 'all this' on my own. I hate parenting by myself. I hate having to do the taxes by myself. I hate having to get the oil changed by myself. I hate having to take the kids to get blood drawn by myself. I hate that's it's 'I'. I am not better off on my own. It's simply not how it's meant to be! "... a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh. So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate." Matthew 19:5-6. Listen, if I want to, I can sit and cry and say, "Hey, God. This really sucks." But, I tell you, I thank Him every morning for another day and for every blessing I have. Psalm 30: 5b "weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning." I am thankful for my beautiful children. I am glad to have a reliable vehicle. I am appreciative for a refund that I can bank away and/or help me in this mess. I praise doctors that can care for my children's special needs. I anxiously await his plan for me and my future (Jeremiah 29:11) because I know there is something great in it. Everything I read in the Bible is truth. Sometimes I can see God all around me and in everything. But, you know what, sometimes I can't. But, I still believe the Word is true.

I feel like there is so much I should be doing or should have accomplished. I feel like I am screwing everything up and letting everyone down and making a mess of things. I have no idea how to do 'this'. But every day I get up and put one foot in front of the other and keep on trying to figure things out. Some days are great! Most, are NOT. But I have the kids and a husband I adore and loves me unconditionally. More importantly, I learned how to love God first and it has made my marriage stronger and the need for my family to simply 'be' all that matters. It makes it hard to just want to do God's will, to just make Him happy when this world doesn't think like that. What I want for me and my family is not about me or my family at all. It's all for Him. What I want to do, doesn't even bring in a paycheck. The world only care about what my degree is in, or what subdivision I live in or what I'm driving these days. Hey, people of this world - strip yourself of those things. Go on... say you look at everything you did in that fraternity, lose that fancy house and hand back the keys to that gas guzzler. What are you now? Who are you? You aren't that different than me I'll bet. Are you willing to make sacrifices for the Son of God? Because God sacrificed His Son for you.

There are hurting people all around us. We are all hurting in different ways. For me, I am hurting because of my immediate situation. For me, it's a big deal. To you, it might not be. Doesn't lessen it for me, though. I suffer from clinical depression and have many past hurts and hang ups. My husband is hundreds of miles apart from me. I don't have physical contact with him other than a hug and hand holding but once a month. I have a child with diabetes. I have two children that can't eat just about anything other than what comes from the ground or God. I have a hard time looking anyone in the eye. For one, I might cry. I do that a lot lately. Also, you might see the fear and doubt in them. Because I am afraid and I doubt. But even though this is my life I have many examples when I can say, "I don't know why I doubt. God always provides." I can experience these things while I am on my journey. I can feel. But I know it's not in vain. I live my life as a living sacrifice to the Lord. I want my life to be a testimony. It can. It will.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

A crucial chapter of the book...

Way back in October of 2006, something happened, and I wrote this...

What a roller-coaster of emotions and a whirlwind of weeks it has been! I am not sure if you have heard by now... but there was a letter from Mark and the kids. It was in a huge manilla envelope, like all the letters to each person... it was mistaken for an empty and was left on a dining room table as recycling! It was there, just not there!

I found that it was something that needed to happen. I needed that weekend to be about me, and about God. It was as if God was saying to me, "All this time locked up in the church, and you still aren't getting what I am trying to tell you? There's a lot of work to do on you!" I felt foolish, I wanted that pat on the back for all I felt like I have been through since Mark's surgery. I felt so good about having finally found a church family, that was Lutheran, and it was Mark that had everything to do with that. I come from a Catholic family! A non-practicing Catholic family, at that! So here I had all these feelings I thought I was going to have, and then feelings of being let down. And anger and confusion. I thought, too, that maybe he thought it would mean more to me if I got letters from friends and family. I do know he is a "fix-it" kind of man. Not much with the words and all. So I figured, well maybe the letter is waiting for me at home. Maybe he had another plan...

When I came home, I was alone. Mark and the kids were at the last ball game of the season. It was actually a good thing. You know how drained you are after the weekend, it was nice to just veg out on the couch and pet the dogs! I did that and I read the letters from the CRHP 19 group and the men's group and miscellaneous others. You know what I found? That those letters were the ones that absolutely meant the most to me. They had all the right words and all the best scripture in them. In comparison, it made some of the letters from my family and friends just plain odd and crazy. So, anyway, while I was reading my letters Mark had called me back after I tried getting a hold of him at the game. He had lost his phone in the parking lot at the stadium. And it was still there after the game! Anyway, I said I just wanted him to know that I was home. He asked in small talk how my weekend was, but I wasn't really about to ask about the letter then. A few moments after our conversation ended, he called back. He said "You didn't get your letter from me and the kids? I wrote you a letter and the kids made a bunch of pictures. We handed it to Pastor Gary. I know they got it!" He also asked, "Why would you think I wouldn't write you a letter?" He had a voicemail on his cell phone from a CRHP 19 person double checking about the letter. When she found the letter at home, she too called to apologize. I told her it was really no big deal, now. I had come to terms with it all. I realized it was how it was supposed to be. I didn't need what was in that letter. I had already received what I needed. But the funny thing is... Mark's letter did answer questions for me and was what I needed, and not what I expected...

In the letter, Mark didn't say anything about the last fours years since his transplant or life with our medical mayhem and all that we have dealt with. Instead, he thanked me for finding Good Shepherd. For getting the family to church on Sunday and off the couch. That it was great that I had made this weekend for me. He was happy I was now raising our children in this way. It was a letter all about church and that was what I needed to hear more than anything.

So really, the letter I thought I was going to get but didn't receive was really a big part of my weekend. As was the letter I actually got days later! In the end it was how it was meant to be, even if I didn't like that very much. But it really has changed my life. My CRHP experience was really life altering, and one of the best weekends of my life.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

She Speaks

After moving here I felt a bit lost. Not only had we moved to an entirely different state, it was away from all my family, friends and our church. I had never lived anywhere other than Illinois. Though somehow, Mark and I knew that God brought us to this place. Somehow, this was going to be a defining part of our journey. And, this is where it would happen. A year later where we fondly call home, we have jobs, a new rental home, a church family and wonderful friends. But more importantly we truly believe that we live by Jeremiah 29:11, we have hope and faith.

Even with things feeling settled and comfortable, I was just feeling that I was missing 'something'. It felt as if there was a piece missing, I was lacking. I finally realized, I wanted to know what I was going to be when I grow up. The only problem was, I wanted to know right now! I know that God doesn't deliver like that, so I simply prayed about it. I asked others to pray for me. I wanted a revelation of sorts, some inkling of an idea that would lead me to discover my holy calling, my purpose, exactly how to use my God given gifts and talents. I really didn't expect it to happen all at once, like in a complete package. Huh, funny though, how He works. God delivered.

It's a bit of a blur how it all happened, how it came to be in my mind and heart. All I know is that I want to go back to college. I want to major in religious studies. I want to write. I want to write articles in magazines and on blogs. I want to improve my own blog (I do have bigger, better things for this here blog in the works!). I want to do what so many have been telling me to do for years, and that is to write a book. I want to speak at conferences. I have a hidden desire to do something related to Christian radio. I want to share how everything in my life lead me to God, and how I almost 'missed it', so that others don't miss out, too. I want to 'be there' for other women, where ever they are on their faith walk, to tell them they are not alone. I want others to see what I've got, and want a little bit of it, too.

Sounds like a lot of "I wants" when I look back at that paragraph, but it's not really about me. I feel in my heart that what I am hearing is God saying, "I want... you to... write about finding God in the hardest of places like, relationships, parenting and 'working' for God's glory. Help others suffering from depression, struggling to be accepted by society and those who are lost seeking spirituality in other forms to find Me. I want... you to... find new avenues to spread the Gospel, to tell others how much I truly love them and that I want for nothing other than for others to recognize what is available to them."

The best part of it all, is that I just learned of an opportunity to make it all become reality. There's a thing called the She Speaks Conference. To quote their website, it's a "life-changing conference for women of every generation seeking to explore the tug on her heart to reach out to the world for Jesus". The conference equips women who have the desire to speak, write, or be a stronger leader for Christ. I am taking a chance at winning a scholarship to attend She Speaks this summer in North Carolina. You can read more about this valuable scholarship opportunity over at Lysa TerKeurt's Proverbs 31 Ministry site.

I think when I knocked, God opened the door to even bigger and better things than I ever even imagined. I mean, really, what were the chances I find out about She Speaks and the scholarship opportunity yesterday and the deadline to enter the scholarship is tomorrow (a mere few hours away!), Friday March 27th! Mark and I used to say, "It's crazy!" We no longer say that, now we say, "It's God!" Wish me luck!

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

How could I be so thick?








That was me yesterday. A total dumb a**.

Let me just preface the details by saying this: There was a time after we moved up here, not long ago, that the calendar was crisp, clean and blank. The date was the only thing that appeared on the white 2"x 3" square. It felt like I could breathe. I was free! I was 'available'.

Here is the calendar now...



I am the orange, Dax is green, Remy is pink and Mark is blue.

Well, now that we need to be three places at one time I am royally screwing it up. I will share.

Yesterday, Remy had her first Brownies outing - a hike in the woods. No problem. It's just up the road. Right? In Candace's world maybe. I went to the golf course on the wrong road that had a similar name. Oops. Then I went to the right place - so I thought. In the woods. I drove in places I didn't think I was supposed to be driving, for.ev.er. At one point I think I went to drive on the golf cart path. I might have actually been driving on the golf path for all I know. We ended up at the private "members only" lodge, and I finally saw someone that wasn't fishing, shooting something or driving a golf cart to ask if I was even close to our destination.

"Nope, haven't seen any Girl Scouts here!" It was suggested we "try the other golf course, by the carts, there's a bridge, by the river. Look there. There's only 25 miles of "park"." No problem. By this point I am so mad at myself - I assumed I knew where I was going. I had all the Girl Scout paperwork to be handed in, but not the paperwork about the FIELD TRIP. This was the first event for the girls so I had no personal information to call anyone. They tried calling us at home, but we were driving around God's beautiful creation at that particular moment. But do note: In between my fits of anger and road rage I would point out pheasants and fish among God’s autumnal backdrop - how beautiful it looked at that particular moment. Then I went right back to white knuckles and gritted teeth.

Evil powers that be: "Oh, to be so silly Candace - you've only lived here six months. Did you think you could get comfortable yet!? You are still a visitor in these here parts."

By the time we got back home, it was forty minutes into what was supposed to be Remy’s field trip. Dax had to eat and get ready to leave for soccer practice - in twenty minutes. He normally doesn't eat before practice, but this night he had a Cub Scouts den meeting right when soccer ended.

I consoled Remy and told her how sorry I was that she ended up with me as her mother. I started boiling water for noodles. I attempted to make two pb&j sandwiches with only two pieces of bread. Cupboards are so very bare. Ooaaahh - GROCERIES! We need to get groceries! A desperate cry out to me, “Soccer clothes are missing Mom.” Ugh. “Check the dryer!”

A mere ten minutes later: I lost it. Hysterically, tearfully lost it. I called in for backup. Why yes, yes, that cry you heard at exactly 4:30 pm was me. I only break down and give up when I know that I can. I know that Mark is only seven minutes from home. So he can help me. He can SAVE me. Save me from myself. Exactly the call Mark hates to get at work - “help put out the fires your wife has created”. October is Fire Safety month you know. I had to get his help then and there, as tomorrow he would be in IL for work. Which we learned about today, the day before tomorrow. No notice needed, I guess. Just be at work at 5:00 am tomorrow and plan on getting home late. Great. Now I'm thinking about how I have to get everyone up, fed, lunches made and actually walk them to school. On top of it, that makes another day Mark won't be home for dinner. (I had planned on frozen pizza for dinner, but Mark didn't get those at the store last night, either. Whaa...)

You know what it is? It's the full moon. Tonight. Just to mess with me. There, I placed blame. I feel a little better.

Truth be told, it's just that I have way too much going on and I am holding it all inside. NOTE! **This is not the place to go into it. Not talking about it. Please don't decide to talk about it in my comments.** But it is because of that stuff that I lost it the way I did. Now come on, I know I can be strong. I've done strong. Remember? It was six years ago during the transplant episode, then through the first hernia episode, then the last hernia, well, yah, okay... I lost it during that one, but the week Mark had to stay in the hospital due to the funky blood thing and he could've died at work because he always says nothing's wrong with him, but when a guy at work says he looks yellow he finally listens after we had been saying it to him all along (I now digress...), come on that time I was way strong. Look how far I've come with strong. Strong! Strong like bull! Well, you know what? I am done with strong. I became strong through Christ Jesus and I know that for sure. But, I think it's time I loosen the reigns a bit. A lot a bit. Time to give Jesus the driver's seat, forget about my co-pilot. No, you know what, I just think I'm going to let Him carry me.

Maybe I'll finally end up in the right place. Without any tears. And with happy children. Some day. Because today?


Tuesday, July 22, 2008

It rocked!

So, on Father's Day we headed back to Illinois. The kids and I stayed at my folks. Monday morning was the beginning of Vacation Bible School and in the afternoon, Dax had safety town. The kids got to play with their friends from school. We watched the premiere of Camp Rock. Mark came down and spent a couple of days back "home". The kids had their birthday party with the family over the weekend. The next Monday then was Camp Discovery. This is the Diabetes Camp. Both Remy and Dax attended. It's Dax's favorite. It was a wonderful two weeks. It is great to go back and visit. I know that I never want to go back and live there again. By the end of two weeks I was more than ready to go back to what I now consider "home". From the moment we got back to Illinois, I was busy, rushed and edgy. I was so happy to see friends and see the kids having fun with their old friends. It's a great feeling to have that when we go back. It's just different up north. I know that this was what was meant for us. This is where God wanted us to grow.

Before we left for Illinois, we did find our new church home. Many of you were asking how our "shopping" was going. I had found the church online and listened to some sermons, and they hit the spot. We attended one Sunday and a few classmates of the kids' were there. They have a great children's ministry, so Remy & Dax were able to get acclimated. The sermon we attended was as if it was directed to us. Then at the end, the song that was playing quietly in the background was the song that Mark had picked for the end of his witness. I looked over at Mark and he had tears in his eyes. There was a youth event for all families that evening and we planned to go. While we were there we spent a good amount of time talking with the pastor and his wife. Wonderful people. We felt so welcomed and at home. They are going to have a new sermon series that will be held during one evening a week. There will be a sermon, then break out sessions. It's about recovery. Mark and I really want to be involved. Since our CRHP experience, we want to reach out to the community. This new series will be open to anyone including outside the congregation. Slowly, I think bits and pieces of God's plan are being revealed to us.

I am so impatient. I want to know what is going to happen, what is to come. I want to know now. But God doesn't work that way. All this character building. I am really trying to let go and let God. But it's hard. I have days that I feel so close to God, and then others I feel so lost and far away from anything God wants for me. What does God want me to do here? I am reading the book 'For This I Was Born: Aligning Your Vision to God's Cause' by Brian Houston of Hillsong in Australia. I have every other page dog-eared with pencil scribblings and markings all down the pages. It is a good book for where I feel I am at, and Mark, too. It helps take some of the angst out of every day life. Each day is a gift. Now, what are you going to do with yours?

Sunday, June 1, 2008

I Hate Shopping *updated

My kids will tell you that I said hate, a bad word. In our house, bad words are hate, dumb, stupid and Remy gets the spelling of h-e-l-l, not that we say it around here, or that she really gets it I don't think. She learned at school, trying to rhyme words and spell words. How would she know? It's never used in a negative context, it's the opposite of heaven as far as she knows. It's a noun. Anyway, what I should say is that I really dislike shopping. There was a time I was like any other teenage girl, and could shop til I dropped. As I have gotten older, I hate nothing more than setting foot in a mall, especially if it involves any article of clothing for myself, even more so if I have to try things on. It's depressing. Not fun.

Well, now that we are somewhat settled up here, the shopping has begun. A different kind of shopping. Church shopping. I don't know who coined that phrase, but it's what we are doing. Sunday we went to an ELCA church up the road. I looked it up online and learned more about their community. Big nice building, it's been added on to as it's grown, has a mom's bible study during the week like Good Shepherd had. There's only so much you can tell from pictures though. Mark said a few times as we would drive past, "I really think we should try there." Can't judge a book by it's cover... er, a church by it's steeple?

So we got up and ready last Sunday and ventured off to First United. Around here in the summer, services change to one service on Sundays and one on Thursday evenings. The summer service schedule started with this past Sunday, and the time was good. Driving to the church and finding a place to park, I felt how nervous I was. Why was I so nervous? I kept asking God to keep my heart open to this new place. We found our way in and got seated. We sat toward the back. Inside it was more wide than deep. It was interesting. I noticed that the ceiling was like a hull of a boat. All beautiful woodwork. The decor on the other walls was all religious nautical. If there is such a thing!?

The pastor was nice enough. But, I couldn't get past the traditional service. They had kneelers, a small orchestra, and don't forget your red hymnals folks. I actually began to cry during the third or fourth hymn, and we'd only been there a few moments. It was kneel if you are able, stand if you are able, red hymnal, kneel, stand, red hymnal, sit, hymnal, hymnal, stand, sit, sermon, and we left. I think Mark could either tell how uncomfortable I was, or the pastor just didn't do it for him either.

I missed the Eighth Day band, the words on a screen for me to read (I have never ever been able to find any songs or pages in a hymnal, ever, I fluster through it so horribly!), jeans and casual dress and mostly Pastors Greg, Gary and Bob. I missed actual bread with wine. I don't like dipping a wafer. I missed smiles across the pew and my friends' hugs in the Narthex . I missed my kids getting excited to see their friends, too. I felt depressed.

But wait, there's more to the story. Tuesday's tale is coming.

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*Updated with Tuesday's tale...

So, I went back to the drawing board. In this case, the internet. I started looking up all the churches in the area and checked out web sites for the those that had them. I looked in to what the church's mission is, learned about the pastor if I was able, what they offered for the children, not to mention all the ministries and small groups each had to offer for Mark and me. I really enjoy being able to listen to previous sermons online, too. One church near here that I was excited to check out, as they were MS and offered a contemporary service, had the sermons on-line! Well, I listened to two and a half sermons. Suffice it to say, we would not be shopping at that church. I had to stop two of them half way through. I really couldn't believe some of what I was hearing, I think more because of the way it was being presented. I am not one for sermons that point proverbial fingers, blame and pour on the "you are a sinner, sinner, sinner, sinner!" All I heard from these few sermons was the bible is a bunch of rules to be followed, and that no matter how we try - we will never live up to being able to follow said rules. Give me a bunch of rules and tell me I'll never amount to anything? Well than, sure, rules are made to be broken when you say it like that! I just might be a bit stubborn, though too, and that's what I hear.

What I became used to in sermons was learning about a relationship with Christ, and how to incorporate that into my everyday life. How we should be salt and light. Instead of pointing a finger at me from the pulpit and telling me what I'll never do because of all I've done... tell me about Jesus. Tell me what Jesus did while he was here, will you please? Jesus shared the love of God sometimes just by "being there" for someone. I can do that, I already do. He was a friend to sinners. Takes one to know one, right? He told Martha to chill out in the kitchen and just sit at his feet, like Mary. We all need to chill. I got this daily devotion from Purpose Driven Life and I think it says perfectly what I am trying to say:


"The good news is you’re able to enter into a relationship with God through an attitude of trust in Jesus Christ; not through religion, rules, regulations, or rituals. When we trust our lives to Jesus Christ we’re given three incredible, fabulous, wonderful benefits. So, when we tell others about the good news, we can let them know: God forgives your past; he gives you purpose in the present; and, he offers you a future."

And this one from another daily devotional:


"Something happens to you when you want to try to act like Jesus. You begin to change, not all at once, but you do change. What you want begins to change. Your whole life takes on a different focus. As I began to change, my family thought I was flipping out! It didn’t happen for me overnight. It took a long time to change bad habits but God placed His hand on my life that day and has continued to guide my every step. My life didn’t change at home. I was still living in a dangerous place but because I was willing to let God turn me into a new creation, my attitude began to change. And I hung in there because I finally had Someone who loved me, and I had a lot of wonderful Christian people who cared for me. God’s plan for us is that we all become a Christian. He doesn’t care what we’ve done or where we’ve been. He just wants to take us right where we are and begin a good work in us. When we make the choice, God makes the change. The first critical step toward a relationship with God is trusting Jesus Christ to be the leader of your life. Jesus said, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6, NIV)
Good Shepherd changed my life in so many ways, for the better. At one point during CRHP I think the community at church literally saved my life. I was really in a dark valley with Mark, we were very close to just some bad stuff and possibly divorce. The small groups, ministries and CRHP helped me through. I was able to confront Mark about where we were in our marriage and what was going on. It was the beginning of laying it all out there and talking it out. We started to work on our marriage. It led to everything we've been through the last year. So, to me, Good Shepherd is a tough act to follow. I pray to God that I have an open mind to all the churches we visit, and we'll know when it feels right. Through all we've been through, we know God is leading us in the right direction.

When we visited up here, months ago, before we moved, we drove past one particular church. I commented "Oh, look, they have their own green box!" There was a church near us in Illinois known as the Yellow Box. A very contemporary church on the move. Some of what Good Shepherd was incorporating into it's ministry was from Yellow Box. One of Mark's CRHP brothers was a member of Yellow Box. (People, the church is not called yellow box, but it's what the building looks like, a big. yellow. box.) I quickly followed my comment saying, "I shouldn't joke, that will probably be our church!"

So Tuesday morning after I listened to the other sermons, I then tried out the sermons online from what I will call, the green box. ;) Did they ever hit the spot. Everything I was used to and more. The pastor made a statement in one sermon that was exactly the spot Mark and I are in living up here. It spoke to me on so many levels. The site also listed their play lists from each service and all of them were songs that we know and sing along to on KLOVE or other christian stations. (There are few few few up here, but that's what the internet is for!) The church has all different kinds of programs for children, men and women. (And you can't beat free doughnuts and Starbucks coffee before services, right?) This was the next stop on our shopping adventure! I was excited to try this new place. Can you believe I was nervous at the last church? I think that says a lot!

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

He is in this place.

Mark's been working on his witness for his CRHP (pronounced 'chirp', google it) weekend. I am so proud of him. He dragged his feet about going (I thought it was because I wanted him to go). Mark was just not ready for it. God knew what He was doing. So, that first year he signed up and a few days before the renewal weekend he backed out. Then, that fall I went to Women's CRHP. The following spring he went. It was best that he didn't go that first year, as there was a certain witness he needed to hear when he did. I think it was the one that changed him forever. This year, Mark is a witnesser. So much of our lives changed for each of us with that one weekend. It's what brought us here.

So, tonight I was helping Mark pick out his songs for before and after his witness. They are perfect - Hold Fast by MercyMe and Song of Hope by Robbie Seay Band. He really picked them, there were a few others, so we read the lyrics and listened to the songs together, and these two are like I said... perfect...

After the kids went to bed, Mark hit the computer again to work on his presentation. I took the dogs out one last time for the night. It's pretty amazing here (to me). The moon shone so bright, just that little sliver of it that there was. The stars, so many stars, winking back at me. I, personally, like the constant hum from the factory across the street. (A lot of people say it takes some getting used to. I like white noise, so I don't even notice it. I notice when I don't hear it!) As I took it all in, it just hit me. This was a moment with God, and I began talking with Him. I didn't even notice I was bawling. The dog jumped up to me and "hugged" me, she freaks when anyone is crying. But, I was okay. It's okay. I am finally beginning to be, just... me. I think I am happy, for once, in my skin. My husband and my children, the way we are together here is unlike before. Better. So much better. He is in this place, here with me. With us.

This is probably the second time in my life that I felt Jesus' presence. Have you ever felt Him with you? I'm not talking about a sign from God. Those can be misinterpreted, I think. You look into anything hard enough and you can make it mean whatever you want. I mean His presence. It wasn't that long ago, the first time I did. My CRHP group was doing a form of meditative prayer. As I sat in a dark room with only the sound of others' breathing, my palms up, repeating "Peaceful Counselor" over and over silently in my head, I felt Jesus. I actually felt Jesus. It was as if he was resting on me, leaning on me. As if to let me know I was finally "getting it". It may sound crazy. To me, I felt blessed. I was at peace. I felt so alive when I walked out of that room that night.

Tonight wasn't so much like that. But I surely felt His presence. I know that it is by God's grace we are even here. This move is what is meant to be. (We don't know how long that will last, but for now it is. God will let us know the truth.) I am only human, so I still worry what will happen to us next, or how we will be tested for His Glory. But then I think that it's all God's plan and it is for our good, and not harm (Jer. 29:11). Then, I know it's all going to be okay. Sometimes that only lasts a moment. So, I have to pray again. Again. And again.

I have not read or heard Mark's witness. Mark said he will do his practice presentation for me. I feel so proud and honored to hear it. I know Mark has quite a story to tell. It will tell of his childhood, his transplant, and pretty sure our marriage. I am certain, though, it will be more about his relationship with Jesus, past and present, and the dark times in between Mark was in disguise as a true follower. I think I will see my husband, quite possibly, for the first time. His hope is to make a difference for one person, as one made the difference for him that weekend a year ago. I pray for all the men attending this renewal weekend that this is true.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

33 Miles

We physically moved a many a more mile than 33. More like over one hundred or so. 33 Miles is a favorite Christian group of mine. Where am I going with this? To better understand, take it from the band’s MySpace page, “their name, [is] a simple metaphor for the 33 years that Christ spent on Earth, and how He lived them. “He was a friend to the friendless, He loved the unlovable, and He gave of Himself selflessly by dying on the cross in our place so that we could live forever,” Jason explains. “We want to follow Christ. We want our ‘Miles’ to have purpose and meaning and to make a difference for the Kingdom of God. We aren't promised a certain number of miles, so what are we going to do with the "Miles" that we are given?”

I truly feel that this move is the beginning of my “miles” that are going to count. Not that my previous years’ “mileage” hasn’t. When I started this blog, it was the eve of my thirtieth birthday. So much was happening. I was changing. I was beginning a relationship with Christ. I found it of significant meaning that I was coming into Christ at the supposed age Jesus was baptized. Luke 3: 23 Jesus, when he began his ministry, was about thirty years of age, being the son (as was supposed) of Joseph… I have read that in order for Christ to begin His ministry, first he most likely had to be washed with water – baptized, and anointed with oil. Since my thirtieth birthday I have a new appreciation for my own baptism, and I have submersed myself in the Word. And I have never looked back. The reason I bring this up, is that this May, I turn 33. And funny, look where we are.

When the opportunity came up for our family to make this move, I laughed at Mark and said %*!# no! Then, I opened my heart. I also Googled. And what do you know – my thoughts changed. We were moving! This was a complete act of God, and we have completely followed His lead. Proverbs 3: 5-6 Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.


It’s hard to believe that a week ago I was driving up here with Angel (again, her name, the irony), our lab mix, and a truck filled to the gills with all of our belongings. It’s a good feeling to be here. It is surreal to be here. I have arrived!

What a week it was. The kids started school straight away last Monday. It was brutal. School starts an hour earlier here than in Illinois. Seeing as we didn’t get the trailer unloaded and dinner on the table until after nine at night, getting up at 6ish was quite a feat. Amazingly, and with excitement, they did it! We were very unprepared though. We couldn’t find the Ziploc bags for lunches and snacks. We ended up sending the kids without anything for snack at all! I felt like the total deadbeat mother. Luckily, the school gave them back-up snacks. We were to report to the school office by a quarter to eight. We arrived at about 8:00 am. I got to take the kids to their classrooms and get them all settled. It was great to see the classmates so excited to meet their new friend! As we walked to their classes they announced the arrival of Remy and Dax, and the kids got to hear their names on the loud speaker. Neat. I met with the school nurse then, and went over all of Remy’s diabetic needs. The school nurse has a son in the same class as Remy, whom also has diabetes. I wasn’t too worried about leaving either child that day. If anything, I knew it would be fun and different for them. However, my little guy was going from a 2 hour 45 minute Kindergarten day, to a 7 hour 15 minute day and lunch at school, to boot. He loved it. Well, the first day a girl did share her cookie with him. I was more worried that when I got home to the empty house, I was going to finally break down. I had been holding things together pretty well thus far. And I was fine. I had so much to do, I couldn’t think about being depressed. I did find the Ziplocs though!

By Tuesday, both kids were getting hot lunch. Dax was like an old pro at it! Remy announced she had a new total BFF. The kids have enjoyed gym, music, art, Spanish and library time. The author of “Frankie, the Walk n’ Roll Dog” came to talk with the kids. Frankie, her dog and inspiration for the book, came along! The kids loved it; Dax even got a lick on the cheek from Frankie. Both kids got a copy of the book, signed and paw-tographed to them. Friday, Dax got to bring home the class chicken, named Checkers. We need to show Checkers a good time this coming week, but I think we could stand to have him show us around a bit! This week also means that Dax is the Star Student and gets to do all kinds of fun things and help his classmates get to know him better.

Over the weekend, Dax learned to ride his bike without training wheels! Mark and the kids went down to the trail along the ravine that has a winding path with stone bridges that cross over the little creek. We ate at a great little drive in (which I learned of in Checkers’ journal!) and had shakes and got groceries at the Piggly Wiggly. The weather had the neighbors outside on Sunday and we got to know each on either side of us better (their canine companions, as well). We live next door to Candice. Is that crazy or what? At least I can remember that!

Friday after school on the walk home, the kids did ask if we could go back to Illinois to visit Grandma and Grandpa for the weekend. They miss them and the constant contact. Already. There were quite a few phone calls last week to report on school, lost teeth (Remy on Tuesday) and riding without training wheels (Dax called on the spot with Dad’s cell phone. I have pictures of the phone call to go in the scrapbook along with Dax on the bike)!

Like I said, I have been waiting for reality to hit and the depression to set in. It’s surprisingly been at bay. What with unpacking all week, and having the house to myself, I haven’t had to worry about anything outside our four walls. Saturday felt more ‘weird’. We were out running errands and driving around. I was removed from my element, my comfort zone. Naturally, I started to get that “what if we made a mistake,” “Did we do the right thing?” feeling. I then realize it’s the chemical imbalance talking loud and clear, and what I need to be doing is listening for God’s whisper. If I worry, I am not trusting God. I have to pray, unceasingly, and just have FAITH. Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.


Now, I know you are asking the burning question (but, remember this is my blog)… Mark is doing great at his new job. He is bringing organization and refreshing changes with him to the department. He deals with issues that the previous manager simply wouldn’t do. Mark has shown others how to do things the previous manager told them was not even possible. More importantly, he is building friendships. For all involved, things are good.

The neighborhood is reminiscent to me of the town I grew up in. Unique brick houses, with stucco and color and great old limestone churches. The Kohler clock tower chimes the hour! There is so much charm here. The houses have... personality! We walk the two blocks to school and can ride our bikes pretty much anywhere. The classrooms in the school even look like my old elementary school rooms. The community pool is the summer hangout. That was a favorite of mine as a kid. I look forward to making our roots here, and for the kids to have the small town life we hoped for them. It is nice to have the comforts of Big Box stores and trust me, I NEED my drive-thru Starbucks (By the way, THANK YOU Fran!). But I like to think the kids can have that small town life in modern times. We truly do want the ‘miles’ ahead of us to have purpose and meaning. This path, a new journey, an adventure. Isaiah 30:21 Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it."