tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27185782829481498662024-03-13T14:18:17.340-04:00Free to Be Mebarbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.comBlogger422125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-87531333071137327372023-12-25T20:20:00.004-05:002023-12-25T20:38:54.398-05:00Comforting Words<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Around the time my Dad died, a lady in our church broke her ankle. This lady is dear to me and brings so much value to our body. I was so sad to hear she'd been hurt, but I was overwhelmed with everything going on in my own life. As a pastor's wife, I try to be attentive to the needs of our people and encourage them when I hear things are going on in their lives. I was sad when I realized quite a few days had passed and I still hadn't reached out to Janice to check on her and let her know I had been praying for her. I quickly composed a text and sent it off in the hopes that Janice would feel seen and encouraged. In less than an hour Janice had responded with her thanks and these words...</span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">"Just take time to rest in the arms of Jesus. We will all be fine."</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">And there it was. Permission I had apparently not given myself. Permission to rest, and grieve and be comforted by the Lord without having to tend to the needs of others. Permission to do something I don't often do. I had wanted to encourage Janice, yet she in turn gave ME the gift of feeling seen and encouraged.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I really can't express what those words meant to me. Just 5 simple words with such a powerful impact that brought me to tears...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">We. Will. All. Be. Fine.</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I've thought about those words a lot over the last few weeks. I thought about them as we gathered for our first Thanksgiving without my Dad, our first birthday celebration without him and our first Christmas celebration since he went to heaven. Not just on the big days, though. There have been normal days that have found my heart heavy with sadness AND the weight of responsibility, but my sweet friend's words have echoed in my mind...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">"We will all be fine."</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Thank you, Janice, for the sweetest gift you gave me. I will forever be grateful.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div>barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-83437181272120569082023-12-05T12:51:00.002-05:002023-12-05T13:04:15.343-05:00Distracted By Grief<p>Grief. Such a complex and personal experience. One that no amount of mental or emotional energy can really prepare you for what to expect when you find yourself surrounded by it.</p><p>Living life, but especially life in ministry for close to 35 years, has allowed us the privilege of walking with so many people through times of profound loss and deep grief. We have rejoiced with those who rejoice, but we have mourned with those who mourn on many occasions. We have watched wives bury husbands and husbands bury wives. We have watched children bury parents and parents bury children...and all of it has been heart-wrenching. </p><p>2 1/2 years ago I got a taste of personal grief when we lost my father-in-law. He had struggled with health issues for quite a while and we had to watch a deterioration of his body over time. I was deeply saddened by this loss because he was an amazing man and he loved me so well. Visits to my in-law's home were still so special, but there was always a sense that something, someone, was missing. We didn't grieve without hope, though, because we knew Big Earl was with Jesus.</p><p>A month ago one of our dearest and closest friends died after a year-long health struggle at 56 and we again were faced with personal grief. We watched his wife and children, people we have loved for decades, grapple with their new reality. It hurt deeply and, at the time, it felt surreal. It still does. We tried to love and encourage our friends while navigating our own grief, but again, our grief was most surely not without hope because of the assurance that Bengie was with Jesus.</p><p>On November 16, 2023, just 3 weeks after losing our friend, grief hijacked me in the deepest parts of my being as I sat with my Mom at my Dad's bedside while he took his last breath. I thought I knew what grief felt like. I know I have experienced it before, but something about this felt different. This was the first man who ever loved me unconditionally. This was the man who taught me, counseled me and helped form the essence of who I am as a person. Suddenly grief felt all-encompassing and mind-numbingly real despite, once again, being wrapped carefully in the hope that He was whole and healed and spending eternity in the presence of Jesus.</p><p>I have found myself doing what needed to be done in the days that followed ~ caring for my family, fulfilling commitments, helping my Mom with endless paperwork, laughing at the antics of my grandchildren, welcoming people to my home and being mindful of the pain of others ~ all with the sense that I'm in a deep fog. I find myself forgetting things I would (and should) normally remember, not caring about things that used to mean a lot to me and just generally going through the motions of life. I attributed all this to sadness and great exhaustion, but one day I was struck by what I sensed I was experiencing...</p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><b>I was distracted by grief.</b></i></p><p>I was going through the familiar motions of life in an unfamiliar way because grief had caused the background of my brain to be always running, attempting to help me process, at any given moment, what a world without my Dad would now look like and how I would fit in it. Like the barely discernible hum of the refrigerator, my mind was in a constant state of trying to regain its emotional equilibrium after such a life-altering blow. </p><p>I have so many things to be grateful for, not the least of which is a Dad who loved me so well, and I know I will be okay. I know there will come a time when I will not constantly be plagued by the sense that I have forgotten something that need not be forgotten. I know I will experience deep joy again. I know I will laugh freely, be surprised by joy and will be stopped in my tracks by a sense of wonder. I know all this because I know I walk with the One who is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. I know because I am assured that He has collected all my tears in a bottle. I know because He says that I am blessed when I mourn, for I shall be comforted by Him and His comfort is unlike any other. </p><p>I know all this will happen in due time, but until then I will be gentle with myself. Until then I will cry when I feel the tears spilling over and will sit and reminisce when the memories start flooding in. I will listen to my mom, my siblings and my immediate family process their own pain and I will be ever mindful of this one thing...</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i>that being distracted by grief is a small price to pay for experiencing such an extraordinary love!</i></b></p>barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-5449256560960690582023-07-10T12:34:00.002-04:002023-07-10T12:47:34.797-04:00The Lies We Believe<p> I spent all but one year, out of 27 years, homeschooling at least one child. That run ended last year when Caleb graduated and, while there was great relief to finally be done, I also found myself filled with some angst and self-doubt about what my viable contribution to my family, our church and the general population as a whole really was now that I could no longer wear this label of "homeschooler". I found great joy and purpose in raising, teaching and training my children and suddenly felt a sense of purposelessness that seemed a little all-encompassing. </p><p>I read some books and different articles and teachings on purpose and prayed desperately that the Lord would show me mine. One sort of questionnaire I read to help you hone in on your purpose encouraged you to ask some who were close to you what your "super powers" (things that stood out about you) were from their point of view. I asked Tim what he thought mine were and he said "hospitality" and "empathy". I totally expected the first word, but was surprised by the second...although I really shouldn't have been because I do recognize I can almost be empathetic to a fault sometimes. I then asked 2 trusted friends who know me well and the first said "hospitality" (again as I expected) and the second said "empathy". "Okay Lord, you have my attention now!", I said with a chuckle. The first, again, was obvious, but the second I suddenly recognized as a helpful companion to hospitality, especially when you like to provide a place where people can share their lives and their stories for the purpose of learning to walk in freedom.</p><p>Shortly after these discussions happened, I began to read the book <i>Living Fearless</i> by Jamie Winship. I had taken it to the beach with me and started it, armed with it, a note pad and a pen. Throughout the book, Jamie poses questions that we are to ask the Lord that are to help reveal our true core beliefs and any lies that may lie therein. One of the first questions posed was...</p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><b>"Lord, where in my life am I am not living in truth?"</b></i></p><p>Jamie encourages you to ask the Lord that question and then write down what first comes to your mind. My answer came quickly and clearly...</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i>"I doubt that there is deep purpose for me besides just taking care of people's basic needs, especially in these later years in life."</i></b></p><p>There it was, written across my page like a painful confession. Even though I do see my gifts are hospitality and empathy, for some reason I saw them as somewhat small and irrelevant in the big picture of life now that my kids were grown and I had more freedom with my time. Nonetheless, my lie was out there and now I waited for the truthful response from the Lord to counter the lie. I didn't know how or when He would respond, but I had no doubt that He WOULD respond with His personal truth just for me.</p><p>It was, by now, late afternoon and I headed back to the house where we were staying to shower and get ready for dinner. My friends and I were taking turns cooking and cleaning up and this particular night I had dish duty. I was washing my cast iron skillet that I brought to the beach with me and was laughing to myself about bringing the "tools of my trade" with me on vacation. I mean, who the heck packs for vacation and says to themselves, "Oh, can't forget the cast iron!" Us foodies, of course! At any rate, I no sooner thought "tools of my trade", than I found myself giving a sharp intake of breath as the answer to my earlier question became clear to me.</p><p>You see, just a couple of weeks before, Tim had been teaching from Luke 7:37-38 about the sinful woman (she was a prostitute) who brought an alabaster jar of perfume and worshipped Jesus by anointing His feet with her hair and the contents of the jar. Tim had made the observation that this woman used the <i>"tools of her trade"</i> to worship Him. As soon as I had uttered those words to myself, <i>"tools of my trade"</i>, my purpose became crystal clear.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i>My deepest purpose is to worship Jesus...</i></b></p><p>and that is what I am doing when I nourish and care for others, especially in my home. I believe there will be other things He'll have me do, but I don't have to search desperately for purpose. I just have to faithfully live out my purpose of worshipping Him according to the way He has wired and gifted me, which is unmistakably with hospitality and empathy! I found it so exceedingly kind of the Lord to give me an immediate, Truth-filled answer in such a clear and personal way, but I realized He was able to do it because I had recognized (through Jamie's book) the need to ask the hard questions and wait for the answers, whatever they may be. </p><p>Are you struggling with wondering what your purpose really is before the Lord? There's no shame in the struggle and He's just waiting to guide you to the answer and to freedom from any doubts you may have that your existence matters and that you can make a difference in the lives of others. Ask him to show you where you are not living in truth and then wait, with an open and expectant heart, believing He will answer you.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i>"Without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him."</i></b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Hebrews 11:6</p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-6486120320214460972021-12-07T11:09:00.008-05:002021-12-07T11:31:15.881-05:00Divine Appointments and Other Such Things<p><span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">On any given day, for all of humanity, life can go from a joyful peace to filled with tragedy in the blink of an eye. As a result, there are some common questions that plague most of us and these are two of the biggies:</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;"> </span></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i>Does God see me and what I’m going through? </i></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i>If He does see me, does He care? </i></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">It doesn't matter who you are, if you have a pulse, you have asked both these questions at some point in your life and, depending on your perceived answer, it has either helped propel you toward an intimate relationship with the Lord or you have packed up those questions and tucked them away in a box and decided you will be the director of your own life. It’s happening every day all around us and I’m going to tell you a story that not only highlights these questions, but points to a resounding, “YES”, in response to both of them.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Jay grew up in Atlanta. His dad passed down his love of baseball and took Jay to games whenever he could. At a very young age, Jay desperately wanted to get close enough to one of the players to get an autograph, but he could never seem to make that happen…until he was 8 years old. </span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Jay and his parents had stopped at a Waffle House for breakfast one morning and Jay quickly spotted Sid Bream and another man having breakfast in the back of the restaurant. If you know anything about Braves baseball, you know Sid Bream is an Atlanta icon and will forever be remembered for one of the greatest slides in MLB history. Jay was so excited and felt like this was the moment he had been waiting for. His parents, more understanding of the need for public figures to be allowed to lead private lives, encouraged him not to approach Sid for an autograph, but when Sid and the other man made their way to the front of the restaurant to leave, Jay could contain himself no longer.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Sid, being the gracious man he is, was happy to give Jay an autograph and grabbed the closest thing he could find, a Waffle House napkin.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b><i>“J.J.</i></b></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b><i>Always give it </i></b></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b><i>your best & know</i></b></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b><i>that God loves you.</i></b></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b><i>Sid Bream</i></b></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b><i>Matthew 5:16”</i></b></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">The other man who was with Sid had played baseball as well and he reached in his pocket and gave Jay a testimony card of his that told the story of how baseball had been the instrument used to introduce him to a relationship with the Lord. Jay could not have been happier to receive these two treasures and he went home and placed them carefully in his Bible. As life went on and Jay grew up, any awareness he may have had of the Lord faded and he left Jesus tucked away in that Bible alongside these two treasures.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Jay eventually married and had children of his own. When his son was 8, Sid Bream came to speak at his father-in-law's church and his father-in-law got a baseball autographed for Jay's son. Life had come full circle for Jay.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Shortly after, Jay’s sister-in-law Hannah became pregnant with her second child. Hannah and her husband, Stephen, had worked through a hard patch in their marriage and this baby was the product of their commitment to turn their hearts back to each other and to turn their hearts to the Lord who was doing a healing work in their individual lives and in their marriage. Everyone in their family could see that things were very different for the Vincent family. Sundays were now a day that began with church and Hannah and Stephen couldn’t wait to get there each week. Both Stephen and Hannah surrendered to the Lord and, as surely as Hannah’s body swelled with the sweet miracle of life that was growing within her, their hearts swelled with a love for the Lord and a love for each other. Life couldn’t be better.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Hannah’s due date was fast approaching when she started to feel sick. They managed her symptoms at home for a while before she was admitted to the hospital, but it soon became apparent that Hannah was taking a turn for the worse and it was time to take the baby. On November 16, Brayden Vincent was delivered via c-section 5 weeks early. Hannah was transferred to a hospital in Atlanta where she could receive more specialized care and Brayden was left in the care of NICU nurses. Within a couple of days, Hannah was placed on a ventilator and she was in urgent need of prayer. Those prayers seemed to work and Hannah got word on November 29 that she was scheduled to come off the ventilator the next day. This was so exciting for her family, for all those who were praying and especially for Hannah and Stephen Vincent who couldn’t wait for their family to be reunited. </span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Tuesday finally arrived and Stephen felt an urgency to head to the hospital to visit Hannah. Mere minutes after Stephen entered Hannah’s room, her heart stopped and he pressed himself into a corner as her room was suddenly filled with medical personnel who worked to no avail to save Hannah’s life. Tuesday, November 30, 2021 Hannah Vincent went Home. It wasn’t the home everyone had hoped and prayed she’d return to, but she was Home with the Lord she had met, surrendered to and so joyfully worshipped for many months.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Word quickly spread that Hannah had died and all were left in shock. Many, including Stephen, eventually rejoiced that Hannah was whole and healed and basking in the presence of the Lord. Some, however, were left bitter and confused, mad at a God who would allow such a tragedy. How could a 22 year old girl who had everything to live for suddenly be gone, leaving behind a husband and 2 precious children? For some, like Jay, this only confirmed that their assessment was correct that God did, in fact, NOT care.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Friday was the day they would gather as a family with close friends to remember Hannah and to take her body to its final resting place. Jay arrived at the funeral home and took his place amongst the family. Anger had been welling up inside him since he’d gotten word that Hannah had died and he felt a growing resentment toward the God who seemed to care so little. A few songs were sung and then Hannah and Stephen’s pastor rose to speak. He introduced himself as Tim Cash, lead pastor of The Cross Loganville. </span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Jay’s pulse suddenly quickened, the room began to spin and he felt like his body was being pressed back in his seat. He was instantly reminded of a testimony card that had been tucked carefully in his Bible next to the Sid Bream autograph. The unknown former baseball player he had met when he was 8 now stood before him, 30 years later. Jay struggled to keep himself composed as he felt his world tilt suddenly off kilter. </span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Hannah and Stephen had become a vital part of their church family and a celebration of Hannah’s life was held on Sunday. It was a time of worship and celebration amidst the tears that flowed so freely. Those who were gathered were reminded that, because she had surrendered her life to the Lord, Hannah would now live for all eternity with Him. While there was still great sadness, you could almost reach out and touch the hope that was felt in the room.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">As the service ended and everyone attempted to collect themselves, Jay asked the formerly unknown baseball player if he could tell him a story and they retreated to a private place. He quietly shared the story of their first meeting as he carefully turned over a Waffle House napkin and a testimony card with the pastor’s face on it. Circumstances that the Lord had set in motion in a Waffle House in south Atlanta had culminated in a funeral service 30 years later and Jay could no longer deny that maybe the Lord DID see him and maybe He DID, in fact, care. It didn’t mean he didn't still have questions and it wasn’t still a struggle to understand why a 22 year old girl with everything to live for had to die, but he knew something like what he had experienced could not just randomly happen. He told the formerly unknown baseball player now turned pastor that he was willing to explore what a life surrendered to the Lord might look like and that the pastor would see him at church very soon.</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">I admit, like Jay and many others, I don’t always understand how the Lord works and why some people get to be healed here on earth and why others must enter eternity to receive that healing. On any given day, my finite mind is put to the test to understand how life works, but of this I am very sure…</span></p>
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<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i>God DOES see all of us and what we are going through.</i></span></p>
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<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i>God DOES care.</i></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">I’m also keenly aware that the seemingly random encounters we have each day may actually be divine appointments and we should always be ready to give an account for the hope that is within us. We never know when the Lord may use one of these encounters to rock someone else’s world and point them to His deep love and care!!</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><i>Don’t believe me? Just ask Jay!!!</i></span></p>
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<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b><i>“In the same way, let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father.”</i></b></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><b><i>Matthew 5:16</i></b></span></p>
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<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-3573855744530887302020-04-02T20:06:00.001-04:002020-04-02T21:15:37.552-04:00April 3<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">
<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>April 3</i></b>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpPS91GlPNtc2KHPYvggvXEZ-z5mwQsUiQUX4gdyUqG73ZiQUapeUMeXZJORdCnaAG7hSh0FroigTNfVPPKhkYn-03C8pQav1hvPGFeqvD9kH4L89Q5Z049CRi0vjY1Yci4GwfwkB5AkM/s1600/9FD7BE46-9C1A-41FB-BA1D-5B76995FBF84.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpPS91GlPNtc2KHPYvggvXEZ-z5mwQsUiQUX4gdyUqG73ZiQUapeUMeXZJORdCnaAG7hSh0FroigTNfVPPKhkYn-03C8pQav1hvPGFeqvD9kH4L89Q5Z049CRi0vjY1Yci4GwfwkB5AkM/s320/9FD7BE46-9C1A-41FB-BA1D-5B76995FBF84.jpeg" width="230" /></a></span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">It’s a day that’s marked on the calendar with two simple letters…</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>CF</i></b>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">It’s hard to imagine that two <i>simple</i> letters could rock our world in such a <i>complicated</i> way. Two letters that affect how we do life…every single day. Two letters that changed so much. Two letters that named our opponent and gave us a plan to compete on a more level playing field…finally!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Just. Two. Letters.</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">I’ve been anticipating this day for a while. Part of me would like to avoid it and let it pass on by without so much as a nod, but part of me knows we must do something to memorialize it and what it will forever mean to our family.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">April 3.</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">I’ve been contemplating Joshua 4 as this day approached. Contemplating how the Lord commanded the 12 tribes of Israel to take 12 stones and build a memorial. A memorial to remember how He cut off the waters and allowed them to walk across the Jordan with the Ark of the Covenant. It was to be a powerful reminder of a powerful God. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">He wanted them to remember.</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">He wants US to remember, so…</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">remember we will. </span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">We’ll each have a rock. We’ll hold them in our hands as we share with each other what the Lord has done in our hearts and minds in the last year. Three of us bear those two letters deep within our DNA, placed there by the One who created us with two gene mutations each. Three of us, forever linked by blood…</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">and two simple letters.</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">And after we’ve shared, we’ll place our rocks in a jar. As a memorial. It will be a powerful reminder of a powerful God. We’ll put that jar somewhere that we can see it often. We’ll see it on the days when we are full of joy and we’ll see it on the days when we are full of pain and doubt…and it will be a powerful reminder of a powerful God.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">April 3…</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">the day that changed our family forever.</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> and knit me together in my mother’s womb.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">You saw me before I was born.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> Every day of my life was recorded in your book.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Every moment was laid out</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> before a single day had passed.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> They cannot be numbered!</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">I can’t even count them;</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> they outnumber the grains of sand!</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">And when I wake up,</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> you are still with me!</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Psalm 139:13-16</span></i></span><br />
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barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-24525592409370995352019-08-30T15:26:00.000-04:002019-08-30T15:28:13.597-04:00It's Doable!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Eq5tWt_7ssEAlLiWWpuKQNPs4RNflFox11Vm87oZoYgpELsryn1HURykS4W864XOjesMwSwzfHELiPfmpOnl2ZpzKFuO505dsQEV5mwxVi7E_g7qtbLdXzTdMbzoohMtB16LuB1tevI/s1600/IMG_1829.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Eq5tWt_7ssEAlLiWWpuKQNPs4RNflFox11Vm87oZoYgpELsryn1HURykS4W864XOjesMwSwzfHELiPfmpOnl2ZpzKFuO505dsQEV5mwxVi7E_g7qtbLdXzTdMbzoohMtB16LuB1tevI/s320/IMG_1829.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I realized I have never fully explained how the phrase, "It's Doable", became our family mantra and the name of our team for the CF walk. As most people know, Wednesday, April 3rd of this year Hannah was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis and, as a result of her diagnosis, Caleb and I have been diagnosed as well. It has been almost 5 months and some days it seems like we're in a really good routine and CF hasn't changed that much and then other days it is overwhelming and I wish I could turn back the clock to those much more simple, pre-CF days! That, however, would mean going back to those days when Hannah was sick, struggling to breathe, coughing non-stop and rapidly losing weight so, of course, I'm deep down thankful for a diagnosis and a way to treat it.</span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-family: "corsiva";"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The night I got the call after 2 days of testing at the Mayo Clinic, Hannah and I were at our hotel getting ready for bed. We had plans to travel the next day to visit some dear friends in Iowa. We were <i>originally</i> supposed to travel home the next day, but the pulmonologist had requested we stay nearby so he could see us on Monday and a road trip with the promise of sweet fellowship at the end of it seemed like a fun way to pass the weekend. Just as we were ready to crawl into bed, my cell phone rang and I recognized it as a Mayo Clinic #. I answered it and slipped out the doorway to the hall so I could speak to the Dr without Hannah in ear shot. I already knew what he was going to say, but hearing his confirmation was going to take a few minutes to fully process and I felt deep emotion bubbling just below the surface. He explained that Hannah's sweat test had come back positive and that she was a very sick girl. He wanted us to pack up that night and head to the hospital for at least a 2 week stay.</span></span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-family: "corsiva";"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I definitely did not see the 2 week hospital stay coming and I was trying to wrap my brain around what we needed to do in order for that to happen. When I finished with the Dr, I called Tim and told him what the Dr had said and then I called our dear friend and primary care, Sandy. The whole time I was talking I was pacing the halls and I'd occasionally see Hannah pop her head out in the hall to see where I was. I'd motion for her to go back while I finished my conversations and she told me later that the amount of time I spent talking and walking in the hall didn't seem like a very promising sign to her and she had concluded she did, in fact, have CF.</span></span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-family: "corsiva";"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After I had prayed, regrouped and worked up my courage to tell her, I went back to the room and let Hannah know what was going on. She, too, was taken aback by the 2 week hospital stay and called her Daddy and Kara, our youth pastor's wife who is her mentor. Kara prayed with her and by the time Hannah was done with her 2 conversations, she seemed much more settled and accepting of the situation. I watched her sit down on the end of the bed, pause and then say with a contemplative look...</span></span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"CF! It's doable!"</span></i></b></div>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-family: "corsiva";"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Really? 10 minutes after finding out she had a very serious lung disease, she had already come to the conclusion that CF, whatever it entailed, was "doable". I was amazed by her resolve that God was in control and that it was all going to be okay. This was her attitude then and during her hospital stay and it has remained her attitude over these last 5 months. These words have impacted our family, our friends and everyone who has heard Hannah's story. These words are a permanent fixture in our home as a constant reminder that what we are going through IS doable, and they became the name of our team in the CF walk. We have a logo, bracelets and now a beautiful new bag from the Georgia CF Foundation with the words, "It's Doable".</span></span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-family: "corsiva";"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Whatever you may be going through now or may encounter in the future, I pray that you will look to the Lord to meet your needs and allow your heart to </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">echo Hannah's profound words...</span></span><br />
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<b><i>It's doable!!!</i></b></div>
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barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-2699088208739520162019-05-03T08:25:00.003-04:002019-05-03T08:25:37.566-04:00Why Not Us?<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;">
<b><i>Surreal : marked by the intense irrational reality of a dream</i></b></div>
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Yep! That pretty much sums it up…the last 4 weeks have felt very surreal. 4 weeks ago today we had plans to fly home from MN and instead my phone rang and I stepped outside our hotel room to take the call. It was Hannah’s pulmonologist sounding very grim confirming that she did, in fact, have CF and was very ill. As I walked up and down the hall of the 4th floor of that hotel, processing the news that we would be packing up that night to head to the hospital for a 2 week stay, I stepped aside to let a family pass by. I remember thinking at that moment that I was having a very personal conversation within ear shot of strangers and how 3 days before I would have been very uncomfortable with that. Not anymore, though.</div>
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Our hotel was a home away from home for many patients of the Mayo Clinic. We met them at breakfast and compared appointment schedules, watched them shuffle down for free afternoon soup in their house shoes, heard their own hushed conversations about treatment options, saw them waiting for the shuttles that left every hour transporting them to and from the Mayo Clinic, watched daddies pulling weak children in wagons full of pillows and witnessed more than a few bald heads and pairs of sunken eyes. In that moment it hit me that we likely had a bond with that family and that they had probably had their own phone call at some point in their journey like the one I was on so what did it matter if they heard mine. Funny how such a sizeable shift in thinking can happen without you even knowing it.</div>
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I had talked to God often over the last few years about the fact that our family hadn’t really been personally affected by tragedy, severe sickness or death and how thankful I was for that. Tim and I still had both our parents, our children were relatively healthy, we had both made choices that led to us having a strong marriage and we all loved each other. I was thankful and yet I always felt that at any moment this life of relative bliss was subject to change. I’m not a big worrier by nature and I try very hard to reign my thoughts in and not borrow trouble, but I knew that we weren’t special. That there was no reason we should be exempt from suffering.</div>
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<b><i>Why not us?</i></b></div>
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Why should Frank have to endure so many surgeries that it was hard to keep count…and not us? Why should Conner have a brain tumor that required Amber and him to have to spend weeks in the hospital…and not us? Why should the teenage boy in the room beside us be slick-headed and bloated from massive doses of steroids…and not us? Why should the family with the very sick baby at the end of the hall have to spend more days at the hospital than at home as a family…and not us? Why should we have friends who have had to bury their babies…and not us?</div>
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<b><i>Why not us?</i></b></div>
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As I walked in church this past Sunday morning I spotted my friend, one of the ones who we’ve had the pleasure of walking beside in life for two and a half decades, and I made a beeline for her. She's my friend, that for some reason unknown to either one of us, is the one I’m most likely to cry with…and I’m not a big crier. As expected we embraced and both burst into tears, neither one caring that we were a captive audience. She held me and patted me and whispered that she wished we didn’t have to go through this, wished that we didn’t have to watch our baby struggle to breathe and wished that she could take away the pain and the suffering our family as a whole was going through right now. I told her I wished she could, too, but then I pulled back and looked at her and said, “But really…</div>
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<b><i>why not us?”</i></b></div>
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Months ago Tim had planned to start a new series that very morning entitled, “The Struggle Is Real”, confirming yet again the Lord’s relentless attention to detail. I have no doubt that he could have done an amazing job sharing with our people that the struggle is real and we can struggle well without the events of the last few weeks, but apparently God had other things in mind. Suddenly, here we were as “Exhibit A” in the current examples of suffering. Hannah had been diagnosed with CF in MN, Caleb had been diagnosed with CF the week after our return and my diagnosis would be 2 days and a phone call away as well. Now Tim’s message wasn’t a theory or something he had observed on the pages of scripture or in others intimately walking with the Lord. It was a message shared as a member of the fellowship of suffering. </div>
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Do I wish my babies and I didn’t have to become one of the 30,000 people in the US with Cystic Fibrosis? Absolutely! Do I wish Hannah didn’t have to spend hours a day doing treatments just to breathe well? Of course! Do I wish we had immune systems that had the ability to fight off germs instead of falling prey to so many different sicknesses? Without a doubt! But…</div>
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<b><i>why not us?</i></b></div>
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As my BFF reminded me when we were in the hospital and I was processing the news about Hannah, CF is just a label. It’s a label that helps us identify why we’ve struggled with so many things for so many years. It’s a label that has given us a plan and a protocol for Hannah and will soon do the same for Caleb and me. We’re still the same people and it’s just a label that defines our issues, but does NOT define us!! Will we have hard days ahead? I’m sure we will. There’s a reason they call it suffering! One of my deepest prayers, though, is that we would always remember that God is sovereign and none of this has caught him unawares. We’re going to pray, we’re going to fight and we’re going to struggle well. What we’re NOT going to do is feel sorry for ourselves because really…</div>
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<b><i>why not us?</i></b></div>
barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-63393815342724352522019-05-03T08:23:00.002-04:002019-05-03T08:23:21.559-04:00Tri-Fecta<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(28, 30, 33); color: #1c1e21; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">As expected, we won the trifecta and I, too, tested positive for CF. My genetic testing confirmed I have 2 gene mutations which definitely supports my clinical symptoms and explains my many breathing issues! They said I have a milder version than the kids, but will still need to get set up at the Emory CF Clinic. Thanks for continuing to pray for us!!! It is SO appreciated!!.</span>barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-69069811433928883852019-05-03T08:22:00.002-04:002019-05-03T08:22:43.815-04:00Hard and Dark Places<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
I had a friend text me this morning. She's not someone I see or talk to a lot, but we have a deep love for each other. She sent me a very encouraging note letting me know the things she was praying for us, and for me specifically, and we corresponded back and forth for a bit. One of the final things she said to me was that if I needed someone to come alongside me in the "hard and dark parts" of wrestling with God that she could handle it! I have found myself pondering that all day...</div>
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"the hard and dark parts". </div>
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Finding out your daughter has CF is hard. Finding out your son has it, too...starts to feel a little dark. Spending 2 weeks in the hospital watching your daughter fight to be able to breathe well is hard and dark. Seeing her weight dip below 100lbs...was really hard. Learning a new normal is hard and I'm sure will be for a while. I haven't had too many dark parts, but I'm sure there will be more before it's all said and done. Hard parts? We have plenty of those. Just having her get a positive flu swab 2 days ago made me want to scream and hit something!</div>
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We've experienced an overwhelming out-pouring of love, encouragement, meals and offers of help over the last 3 1/2 weeks. We stand amazed at the people the Lord allows us to have as part of our community near and far. I know many of those people would totally be there for the "hard and dark parts", but there was something about my friend offering...going there with those specific words...that stopped me in my tracks. </div>
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My friend is well acquainted with "hard and dark parts". She's had to fight her way through many of her own over the last few years and you can tell. The struggle has been real, but she has struggled well. She didn't avoid these spots. She didn't deny they were there. She waded in and did hard work and she has come out the other side with a beauty and a grace she probably never imagined could be hers.</div>
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My friend taught me something today. She taught me that a lot of people may offer assistance and genuine care, but it takes someone who has done their time in hard and dark places to not be afraid to go there with others; to name them and call them out! She taught me that these hard and dark places are never wasted and He will use them in my life and eventually allow me to use them to go there with others. My friend made me a little more brave today as I was reminded how she made it through her hard and dark parts and found joy in the midst of it all!!</div>
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2 Corinthians 3-5 ~ "All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us. We have plenty of hard times that come from following the Messiah, but no more so than the good times of his healing comfort—we get a full measure of that, too."</div>
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Thank you, friend!!! You encouraged my heart today and helped make me a little more brave!!!</div>
barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-35937677757027132222019-05-03T08:21:00.004-04:002019-05-03T08:21:57.001-04:00In Hannah's Words Take 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzxwOAXFCDExOTl2_kkqkCVaSRTRzN_zoSdV7XxWyIudYPRDKw5MX2fMiR-qBu3oYBvqxJZ8hVKJPu8hK4KyomaT6plCdcqsmbPEznlc3wWJVpWj7lYfH9IGfp1bWzjDSQ1xDfwUfKQMg/s1600/o0DTwo2CQUqA8FqccdEmeQ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzxwOAXFCDExOTl2_kkqkCVaSRTRzN_zoSdV7XxWyIudYPRDKw5MX2fMiR-qBu3oYBvqxJZ8hVKJPu8hK4KyomaT6plCdcqsmbPEznlc3wWJVpWj7lYfH9IGfp1bWzjDSQ1xDfwUfKQMg/s320/o0DTwo2CQUqA8FqccdEmeQ.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(28, 30, 33); color: #1c1e21; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Well, we really are alike!!! KK and I BOTH have Cystic Fibrosis!!! So thankful that we have each other!! Some people may say, “that sucks y’all both have it” but really it’s amazing that we have each other to go through life with!!! God knew exactly what He was doing when He created us! I’m thankful God gave me KK as a brother and best friend!!!! Love you lots!!!</span>barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-66754265403238368472019-05-03T08:20:00.001-04:002019-05-03T08:20:34.751-04:00FC Twins<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ8qZIghWQo7dPC2_5cLNVt_Z4-b7QAogjdcuGoR7lZONDWY2WzQw2p9S7qqSl98my0FiRhzhebEB3Xm9PN9xm3gv6o2X7QFCVNLabcPZ1ZENHLxJr3PuIQRcmw6s42Qie_mRUIFa2GJw/s1600/%25259WSlcVMRpScb9XOKcH7YA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ8qZIghWQo7dPC2_5cLNVt_Z4-b7QAogjdcuGoR7lZONDWY2WzQw2p9S7qqSl98my0FiRhzhebEB3Xm9PN9xm3gv6o2X7QFCVNLabcPZ1ZENHLxJr3PuIQRcmw6s42Qie_mRUIFa2GJw/s320/%25259WSlcVMRpScb9XOKcH7YA.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXn8mHsmag-M1U3Z5Dwc4GgsuGR-91i4TuIQWitEYlsNJMEvUylWGnB8SUq4QsfFk4TdEVYb7ADmisEBMPg6pML2u_tfHw531YJrUptjBX1435mM672CapXwvM9uhH03Z0B-5W8t7Qmpk/s1600/wqre8%2525mnTruY0GHazFjHFw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXn8mHsmag-M1U3Z5Dwc4GgsuGR-91i4TuIQWitEYlsNJMEvUylWGnB8SUq4QsfFk4TdEVYb7ADmisEBMPg6pML2u_tfHw531YJrUptjBX1435mM672CapXwvM9uhH03Z0B-5W8t7Qmpk/s320/wqre8%2525mnTruY0GHazFjHFw.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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These 2 are 19 months apart and have always been best friends! KK once bought Hannah a sign that said something about his sister being his best friend and the lady in the store asked him if that was true and he said, “Yep! And now she has the sign to prove it!”</div>
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They’ve always liked to do everything together and now...we have the test to prove it!! Yep, KK’s sweat test came back positive and he, too, has been diagnosed with CF!! He actually says he’s going to tell people he ha<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">s FC...since he’s dyslexic!!<span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t1f/2/16/1f92a.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">🤪</span></span></span></div>
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Truthfully, as soon as she was diagnosed I pretty much knew he would have it, too, based on his symptoms of “asthma” (which it can often be diagnosed as) and recurrent nasal polyps. We KNOW that Caleb is fearfully and wonderfully made and that this has NOT caught the Lord by surprise. We don’t really know what it looks like for him because he is generally pretty healthy, but he will begin attending the CF clinic every 3 months with Hannah starting May 14. </div>
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We SO appreciate everyone’s prayers and encouragement and are so thankful for our community near and far!!! We love y’all!!</div>
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barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-9613928687424601202019-05-03T08:15:00.004-04:002019-05-03T08:15:47.462-04:00In Hannah's Words<div style="caret-color: rgb(28, 30, 33); color: #1c1e21; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
This is something Hannah wrote. It is something that challenged me and, I imagine, may challenge you!!</div>
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So, as most of you know, on Wednesday, April 3, I was diagnosed with a disease called Cystic Fibrosis. CF (Cystic Fibrosis) is a lung and stomach disease. It can be very harmful to the lungs and cause a lot of damage. CF makes it hard to gain weight because your lungs are working extra hard, so all the calories that go in to your body go straight towards fighting o<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">ff infection in the lungs, therefore you begin to lose weight or struggle to maintain weight. With having CF I have to be aware of my breathing and my weight so that my body can stay healthy. </span></div>
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Some people can have a hard time with CF, so that’s why I don’t read about it on the internet. All that does is fill my mind with negative information that might not even happen to me. The night I got diagnosed, I called Kara (my mentor) and she asked to pray with me. As she was praying, she was asking the Lord to give me a peace that surpasses all understanding and just a peace of mind. Needless to say, I definitely have that peace. I keep second guessing myself and wondering if I should be more nervous about having the disease, but honestly why should I worry when I have God fighting for me? Why should I worry when God is the great physician? Why should I worry when I am grounded in my faith and I know who the TRUE healer is? </div>
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Like my mom was telling me, God is giving me grace in this situation because He knows that I need it. I have truly used this opportunity to grow and to try and be an influence in other peoples’ lives. Not to brag but, while being at the hospital, many doctors and nurses have commented on what a good attitude I have had during all of this. The only reason is because I know that God is on my side and He will take care of me and, because of that, I have no reason to worry. Being in the hospital has given me an opportunity to ask the nurses what their stories are and I’ve gotten to know so many new people. In the hospital, I put scripture up around the room so that I especially could be reminded daily of what His Word says, but also I didn't know whether the scripture would make an impact on a nurse or someone else who comes in and out of my room. </div>
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One of the biggest things that I have learned from everything I've been going through is this…if I can trust the Lord while going through this, then He can use me to be a light for others and to help challenge others to trust the Lord in every circumstance. I’m thankful for how He is using CF in my life already.</div>
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barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-4199584121763725592019-05-03T08:14:00.003-04:002019-05-03T08:14:47.148-04:00Genes<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Gene ~ a unit of heredity which is transferred from a parent to offspring and is held to determine some characteristic of the offspring.</div>
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Today was the day we have been waiting for...the day Hannah's genetic testing would come back. It's a day I thought would never get here and yet that I was dreading at the same time. It was the day that we would know definitively that Hannah does or does not, in fact, have Cystic Fibrosis.</div>
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It may seem strange to doubt that she did after all we've been told, but there was one Dr, the one over infectious diseases, who just was never convinced she had CF. It never made sense to him that it took so long for her to be diagnosed and that she did not present in a physical way as the majority of CF patients do. So, while 99.9% of the Drs told us she DID have CF, I clung to hope that maybe the infection disease Dr knew something they didn't. I mean, I've never been one to follow the crowd, so why start now. </div>
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I stayed at the hotel last night, as I am again tonight, but I made sure I was up and at the hospital in time for the residents and her care team to make the rounds. Deenah and Dr. Wang came in around 8 as usual and, during their daily assessment, casually mentioned that the genetic testing had come back and it was positive. The infectious disease Dr and I may have held out hope, but genes don't lie.</div>
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Dr. Pillai and later Brad, the guy over respiratory therapy, explained about the genes Hannah had and what that really meant. They named her genes and showed us how to enter them both in a database and and find out the characteristics of her particular gene set as well as the number of people in the world who have her exact gene mutation of CF. And you know what? There's a reason it seemed odd to the infectious disease Dr (who I promise has a name, but it's a mouthful).</div>
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There are only 24 people in the world who share G551D and 1717-1G>A gene mutations. There are about 35,000 people in the US with CF and about 75,000 in the world...but there are only 24 people in the world who are fearfully and wonderfully made with the exact same gene mutations as our Hannah. Wow!!!</div>
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I'd like to say I embraced this news with a joyful heart, but I must admit I felt the weight of each of those mutations pressing down on my chest as I listened to their words. I KNOW God made Hannah and He makes no mistakes! I KNOW this has not caught Him the least bit by surprise! I KNOW these things. But. I. Don't. Want. My. Daughter. To. Have. CF.</div>
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So, I listened to their words with a brave face and then I went for a walk and cried. I cried because all those Drs were right. I cried because I don't want my baby to have to spend hours a day doing breathing treatments in a vest that beats her around. I cried because I'm tired and claustrophobic and want to go home. And then I dried my tears, ordered lunch and spent the rest of the day enjoying time with 2 people who mean the world to me.</div>
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I want to be clear about something as I wind up my thoughts for today. It has never crossed my mind to be mad at God. I don't blame Him for any of this! I admit to feeling a tad bit of Mom guilt this week, especially once my sweat test came back, because it was confirmed that I contributed to her having jacked up genes. You know what's crazy, though. She had to get a jacked up gene from Tim, too, and I would never blame him for that! </div>
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So I now no longer blame God OR myself for Hannah having CF. She IS fearfully and wonderfully made...2 genetic gene mutations and all!!</div>
barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-575601830113270152019-05-03T08:13:00.002-04:002019-05-03T08:13:16.683-04:00Rollercoasters<div style="caret-color: rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
I’m not a fan of rollercoasters. I never really liked the idea of them, but a close call years ago sealed the deal. We were visiting my grandparents and the fair was in town. I was so excited to go and see what they were all about because I had never been to one. While we were there, I was somehow convinced to ride the rollercoaster. It was your typical fair rollercoaster with a track that creaked and groaned as you slowly ascended, leaving you with a less than confident feeling that it could withstand a train of cars hurtling around it at high speeds. I made it to the end and and resolved in my mind that that would most likely be the last time I ever rode a rollercoaster.</div>
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That night we were home at my grandparent’s house and, as was the custom, we were watching the 10 o’clock news before bed. I always loved going to visit my grandparents because we got to stay up and I felt very grown up watching the late news. The familiar intro played and Dan Miller filled our screen with the top story of the night...the derailment of a rollercoaster at the county fair!!! The very rollercoaster that I had clung to as it creaked and groaned it’s way to the top. Needless to say, I was traumatized. The knowledge that shortly after I disembarked it had left the tracks, injuring numerous people, ensured the end of my rollercoaster riding days.</div>
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Since then I have avoided them at all costs. Really high highs and rushing lows just aren't my thing. I prefer to live simply, with my feet firmly planted on the ground! If you know me well, you know this applies to life in general for me. I don’t need mountaintop experiences and I try not to wallow in the valley. I’ve had tough things to deal with in my own life and as I’ve walked with others, but I’ve often thanked the Lord that I haven’t had anything really hard happen to me or those I hold closest to my heart.</div>
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That changed on April 3, 2019 when my baby girl, Hannah, was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis. I had seen the results of her sweat test and was pretty sure we would soon have a positive diagnosis, but all that was confirmed when the pulmonologist called me early that evening. In a grave voice he said she did have CF and he would like her admitted to the hospital that night because she was quite ill! I can’t remember all he said because I became less aware of his words and more aware of my own personal rollercoaster beginning to unlock and veer off the tracks. We thought we were going to have to stay in town a few extra days, and instead we were told she was being admitted for a 2 week stay at the Mayo Hospital.</div>
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The first couple of days were an overwhelming whirlwind of examinations, information and little to no sleep, but I felt at peace. This morning I woke up sad and mad and have had to struggle through the majority of the day. I take comfort in the knowledge that God is not offended by my struggle and that He is actually camped out in the middle of it with me. I know we are entering new territory with a huge learning curve and that there will be many hard days. I am confident, though, that God is still as sovereign as he was before we boarded that plane to head north and that He loves Hannah even more than Tim and I do.</div>
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We so appreciate all the calls, texts, meals, care, concern and especially the prayers. We are reminded, yet again, what an amazing community the Lord has allowed us to be a part of and we do not take it for granted! Tonight we take comfort in knowing we’re one day closer to coming home!</div>
barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-12521843224384067812018-08-24T12:02:00.002-04:002018-08-24T14:47:35.394-04:00Things Pondered After a Jailhouse Visit<style type="text/css">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Yesterday I went to the Walton County Jail. I had only been there once before, to the morgue to hold up a friend while she identified the body of her beloved son, and those memories came flooding back as I drove in the parking lot. I was there to visit another friend which was almost as difficult as my first visit. This friend is someone I really love, but someone who has made some bad choices over the last couple of years. I was thankful I’d decided to forego breakfast because my stomach was tight with anxiousness. There’s something about a place like that that sets you on edge, especially if you’ve never been and are unsure of where to go and what to do.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">It took a couple of conversations through bullet-proof glass, after passing through secured metal doors that buzzed open and locked behind me, to figure out where I was supposed to go sign in and wait. I drove to the designated parking lot, left my purse and cell phone securely locked in my car and proceeded toward the walkway encased by chain link fencing. As I walked toward the entrance, I was struck out of the blue by a scripture I had learned years ago in an effort to try to parent well…</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><b><i>”When the sentence for a crime is not quickly carried out, the hearts of the people are filled with schemes to do wrong.”</i></b> (Ecclesisates 8:11)<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">It seemed like a safe parenting verse way back when, but suddenly I was wondering how many people were behind these walls because they had never experienced this verse lived out in their own lives. No judgment…just the pondering of my heart as I made my way to the door.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">I entered the waiting room and passed through the metal detector, armed only with my car keys and a piece of paper with my friend’s inmate # written in the bottom R corner. No name…just a number to mark her place in the system. I filled out the paperwork with my personal information and surrendered my driver’s license through the tray beneath yet another piece of bulletproof glass. The deputy taking all the visitors’ information was the friendliest one I had encountered so far and I marveled at how she had maintained what seemed like joy in the midst of such a barren place. I completed the registration process and took one of the few available seats in the stark waiting room.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">There were a lot of chairs in a very small area and I found myself with only a couple of feet separating those who sat across from me. Since it was my first time being in a place like that, I was unsure of the protocol regarding chatting with your neighbors. I’m one who tries to overcome my introverted ways and make a conscious effort to engage others and do what I can to encourage them. Since discouragement and downcast souls seemed to be the common denominator that linked all those who were waiting, I glanced at the floor and prayed for an opportunity to be His hands and feet. A sweet little one year old girl with beaded braids bounced around in circles and captivated the attention of most who were there, such innocence displayed despite her jaded surroundings. Another sweet girl soon joined the room and they played with a carefreeness that belied their reasons for being there…each waiting to visit their Mama. I gazed around the room and noted the tired eyes, many of whom wore their years and stories firmly etched on solemn faces. “Weary” seemed to be the word for the day.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">A nervous woman randomly asked if she could sit beside me and I welcomed the chance to strike up a conversation. I asked her who she was there to visit and as she explained her situation, I realized she, too, was there to visit my friend, a step-mom come to see what she could do. Suddenly the “random” request took on a divine appointment and she expressed how thankful she was to not have to experience this first time alone. So there we sat, strangers but moments before, both anxiously waiting for the same name to be called. Her name <i>was</i> called not long after and we walked through the heavy metal door and waited our turn to be searched with the wand that would signal we were safe to proceed ahead. We entered a cinder block room with 7 cubicles. I know because I found the need to count them, I can only assume, in an effort to bring order to my jumbled thoughts. Each cubicle was equipped with a phone and a heavy glass barrier that would separate us from our inmate. And suddenly there she was, not in the cute clothes I was used to seeing her in, but a state-issued jumpsuit identical to the woman next to her.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Her step-mom talked to her for 5 minutes or so and then left me alone to visit as we tried hard to hear each other through phone lines long out-dated. My friend wept bitter tears of regret and it was heart-breaking to realize this was her reality. I spoke firm words wrapped in grace and reassured her that her current circumstances did not change our love for her. I prayed with her, sensing the Lord was there, stretching His arms through the thickened glass connecting us to one another. Then a guard called “time” and we each hung up our phones, feeling the distance between us deepen, she heading back to a place of scary unknowns and me to the world of familiar.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">I passed back through the waiting room in a sea of mourning souls and heard a lady right behind me sigh and say, <i>“It sure is hard seeing your baby girl in a place like this.”</i> I turned and waited for her to join me, recognizing her need to speak forth the broken pieces of her heart after her painful visit. She shared her daughter's story, intertwined with her own, and I listened to a mama’s heart filled with regret. A mama who now has the responsibility of raising four teenage grandchildren because both their parents made selfish choices and find jail their current home. As I listened to her nervous words spill out I was reminded, yet again, that we all have a story and want someone to care enough to wade into it with us. We talked for 25 minutes, leaning against the chain link tunnel, and as we parted ways I hugged her and assured her I would pray for her.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">It took me a minute once I got back to my car to collect my thoughts. I looked toward the building from which I had just exited and asked the Lord to use this time to bring my friend to a place of true brokenness and repentance. I finished my prayer with a sigh of my own and slowly backed out of my spot, my heart a little less anxious than when I drove in. I was thankful the nervousness had dissipated, but I found it had left a heaviness in its place. A heaviness that felt like a cloak wrapped tight and I thought...</span></span><br />
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<br />barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-77439217839851416122018-07-09T08:39:00.001-04:002018-07-09T08:57:15.012-04:00The Ebb and Flow<span style="color: #666666;">I've been contemplating the ebb and flow of life lately and relating it to the ebb and flow of the tide as we sit on a beach. Sometimes the tide is low and we're able to wade out and see so many treasures that the ocean holds. In a matter of hours, though, we can witness the tide rise and the waves wash over anything in its path, engulfing the shore in water and washing its contents out to sea. That's how the final week in June felt to me this year.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">Tim and I had the privilege of spending a week in Estes Park, CO and further up at a site adjacent to the Rocky Mountain National Park called Wind River Ranch. We were there with our friends, Mac and Aimee, and a multitude of new friends that we had the privilege of making. It was truly one of the most peaceful places I have ever been and the mountains were jaw-dropping evidence of the Lord's power and majesty in every direction we turned.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">I was able to fulfill a bucket list item and attend a concert at Red Rocks Amphitheater. What made it extra special was that it wasn't just any concert. It was Third Day's final concert ever. It was the end of a 20+ year journey with Mac and the band as well as a launching point for a new dream and a new direction. The memories rolled like a highlight (and occasional lowlight) film and the tears flowed as I reminisced, with their familiar music as a soundtrack playing while the images flashed.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">It was a week that provided a much needed time of rest and reconnection for Tim and me. We felt ourselves being refreshed and encouraged and able to let our minds quiet themselves. We rocked and talked, breathed fresh mountain air, ate meals I didn't have to prepare and enjoyed temperatures that were gloriously low and dry compared to what our normal Junes felt like. As we finished the week and started to wind down the mountain, we were filled with thankful hearts for the respite from our daily demands. All was well in our world until we got the call...the call that alerted us to the fact that our friend, Bruce, had walked into eternity just moments before.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">We have spent our 28 married years in ministry and throughout those years there have been so many mountaintop moments we've been able to experience with people as they surrender their lives and their wills to the Lord and begin to walk out their new-found faith. We have also spent many hours wading into grief with precious people who have just experienced devastating loss. This would prove to be one of the more difficult times. Our hearts were crushed as we waited to board the plane home and I discovered an airport can be a very vulnerable place for tears of sorrow to fall as you're surrounded by a captive audience.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">We landed in Atlanta and headed to Bruce and Shelley's house to wait for her to arrive. Bruce had died at home and sweet Shelley had witnessed a rather horrific scene. While he had battled cancer for much of their 4 years of marriage, his death still came as a shock and Shelley and their children were reeling. As the car pulled up with Shelley, her son and 2 other family members in it, I cried out to the Lord and asked Him to help us minister to them in ways that far exceeded what would otherwise be our own mere feeble attempts. We embraced Shelley as our tears washed together and we slowly ascended the steps into their home where just hours before she and Bruce had been having coffee together.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">As we sat with Shelley in relative silence I was overcome with the feeling that we had entered onto holy ground. There were really no words that could mend her broken-heartedness and so I resisted the urge to fill the quiet moments with meaningless chatter. We simply let her tears flow as the grief pooled around her. We had literally descended from the mountaintop into the depths of pain and mourning and I thanked the Lord for the divine and sacred privilege of entering into another's grief.</span><br />
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<b><i><span style="color: #666666;">"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and He saves those who are crushed in spirit."</span></i></b></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The next few days were spent helping Shelley and her family attend to details and make decisions that we all wish we would never have to, but know inevitably we eventually will. These moments stood in stark contrast to the peaceful ones we had experienced just days before and I was reminded yet again...</span><br />
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<b><i><span style="color: #666666;">"The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the Name of the Lord."</span></i></b></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">I read today in <b><i>66 Love Letters</i></b> by Larry Crabb that <b><i>"small obedience is great work"</i></b>. So often we can, if we're not careful, find ourselves missing the daily opportunities to perform a great work because they don't seem grand enough and we forget that walking intimately with Jesus doesn't always look like we expect it to in our own finite minds. Just as the ebb and flow of an ocean demands that we contemplate His power and providence, so must we see those ordinary moments as extraordinary because they require us to obediently enter into His divine work. Sometimes those moments may seem mundane and other times they can feel overwhelming. How comforting to know, though, that He has promised to never send us where He is unwilling or unable to journey with us.</span><br />
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<b><i><span style="color: #666666;">"Carrying out this relief work involves far more than helping meet the needs of poor Christians. It also produces abundant and bountiful thanksgivings to God. This relief offering is a prod to live at your very best, showing your gratitude to God by being openly obedient to the plain meaning of the message of Christ. You show your gratitude through your generous offerings to your needy brothers and sisters, and really toward everyone. Meanwhile, moved by the extravagance of God in your lives, they'll respond by praying for you in passionate intercession for whatever you need. Thank God for this gift, His gift. No language can praise it enough."</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="color: #666666;">2 Corinthians 9:15 ~ The Message</span></i></b></div>
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barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-1936933626133368032018-03-31T10:42:00.001-04:002018-03-31T10:59:44.247-04:00Despair and DesperationIt's Saturday, the day in between Good Friday (oh, the irony) and Easter Sunday, and I've been very contemplative about what that day must have been like. We know it was the Sabbath so, as we saw when we were in Israel, everything would have been shut down and it would have been a day of rest and contemplation. I wonder, though, what were the thoughts of those who had been in the crowd calling for Jesus to be crucified? What were Pilate's thoughts as he contemplated his cowardice and the way he backed down in leadership and allowed an angry mob to call the shots?<br />
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Friday was a day of darkness. For 3 hours the sun was blotted out and when Christ finally died the veil was torn, the earth quaked and the rocks were split in two. Nature acknowledged what humans were unwilling to admit...a grievous act against an innocent man was complete! And now it was Saturday and they must wait. Much as a disobedient child who is sent to their room to "think about what they have done", I have to believe that for many a knot had formed in their stomachs and they were forced to contemplate their role in putting an innocent man to death. The day of darkness had rolled into a day of despair and desperation and they were left to think.<br />
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Think about what they had done. Think about what was to come. Think about how to minimize the collateral damage. Think about how to keep His brazen claims that He would rise on the third day from appearing to actually come true. Pilate may have made a valiant attempt to wash his hands and declare his innocence in front of an angry crowd and a doubtful wife, but when the Pharisees came requesting the tomb be sealed, he was forced to acknowledge that their desperate measures would be hopeful at best. Now they must rest and wait.<br />
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I've had times in my life when I felt like I made a mistake that could never be made right. My failure felt final and I was left to contemplate what I had done. I was left to question my motives and struggle thru whether Jesus could ever come to my rescue in the midst of my despair and desperation and make things right. And yet, in the midst of my despondency, He had me tethered to the hope that maybe my failure wasn't final and maybe my despair could give way to deliverance and delight.<br />
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Let's not waste this day of waiting. Let's not become so focused on our past that we fail to prepare our hearts for what is to come. This day in between may be filled with many conflicting thoughts, but our deliverance is only a day away!!<br />
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<br />barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-9472535298057993682018-02-06T10:49:00.003-05:002018-02-06T12:29:27.155-05:00Loopholes<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I learned so many things while we were in Israel! So many spiritual truths and things about myself and so many historical facts that I felt like my head might explode at times trying to process it all. One thing I learned early on in the trip really blew my mind, though, and I found myself thinking on it a lot during the rest of the trip and since I've been home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I learned about "loopholes".</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This was the first loophole I saw and was when my mind was initially blown. Maybe I'm just a geek and no one will find the concept as fascinating as I did, but I'm going to attempt to explain it anyway. First let me share the initial definition of loophole...</span><br />
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<span class="sb-0" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="sn" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="num" style="font-weight: 600; left: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 2px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span><span class="num" style="font-weight: 600; left: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 2px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span><span class="num" style="font-weight: 600; left: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 2px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></span><span class="num" style="font-weight: 600; left: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 2px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span><span class="num" style="font-weight: 600; left: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 2px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span><span class="num" style="font-weight: 600; left: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 2px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span><span class="num" style="left: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: absolute; text-align: left; top: 2px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So tactically speaking a loophole is a small hole someone who was engaged in battle would slip their weapon through in an attempt to ambush the enemy while being protected from reciprocal fire. They were able to see out of it while remaining hidden and safe. </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once I was made aware of what these openings were, I began to notice them virtually everywhere we went. In a country which is currently known for its political and religious turmoil, it was amazing to recognize that there's not much new under the sun and this is obviously a centuries old problem.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There were loopholes in the cities, in the country and even on top of a mountain in the ruins of an ancient palace. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdcrmtRa4zZXrg4AyFHSbhQIBfax6351jx8tfxYYPn4xHXv1uVAhjVkuqyIOsQnDyLLi92VwiUfaYsXcHgzYMBGPGXmWCei7hyTFgZn2rohByqjpICqS-Riista_w8sq4kkzN_E6yzOTo/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1a6c.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdcrmtRa4zZXrg4AyFHSbhQIBfax6351jx8tfxYYPn4xHXv1uVAhjVkuqyIOsQnDyLLi92VwiUfaYsXcHgzYMBGPGXmWCei7hyTFgZn2rohByqjpICqS-Riista_w8sq4kkzN_E6yzOTo/s320/fullsizeoutput_1a6c.jpeg" width="213" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmyAdKyhaTIfDrYqKsgOPJG2V5ntWrzkEqZgYcKpToEruGW5LXpB1i-eNC6aD_aCM4XKwIvkPLfNpiSuiBaowPYqkc_bK5LKomF_DuEwnIYVkmOYy6MXdEqxrJwpsPLAEROfmUI0DrRk4/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1a42.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmyAdKyhaTIfDrYqKsgOPJG2V5ntWrzkEqZgYcKpToEruGW5LXpB1i-eNC6aD_aCM4XKwIvkPLfNpiSuiBaowPYqkc_bK5LKomF_DuEwnIYVkmOYy6MXdEqxrJwpsPLAEROfmUI0DrRk4/s320/fullsizeoutput_1a42.jpeg" width="213" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">While the historical influence of these loopholes was fascinating to me, I couldn't help but be struck by the spiritual and linguistical influence of loopholes. Let's look at the second definition of loophole...</span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span class="mw_t_bc" style="background-color: white; color: #3b3e41; letter-spacing: 0.64px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">: </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #3b3e41; letter-spacing: 0.64px; text-align: center;">a means of escape;</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #3b3e41; letter-spacing: 0.64px; text-align: center;"> </span><span class="sdsense" style="background-color: white; color: #3b3e41; letter-spacing: 0.64px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="sd" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">especially</span> <span class="dt " style="display: inline; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="mw_t_bc" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">: </span>an ambiguity or omission in the text through which the intent of a statute, contract, or obligation may be evaded</span></span></span></i></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Do you see it? </span></div>
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<i><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Loopholes...ways we try and get out of commitments and covenants with no (or at least minimal) damage to ourselves or our integrity. </span></b></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The problem with loopholes is that very often others DO get ambushed in the process and there IS much collateral damage. The other misconception about loopholes is that we can evade our commitments and all will be fine, but it is always with great detriment to our character and our integrity. It may seem like we get off scot-free, but there are lasting implications that cannot be avoided.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoGuYL_gnHp5kEP0VO__lS_1svktoLQLkQRRj8yb5rTT9w7jI37tYjOpuDWq2y6Qbqmz5rXjoySGT9dYonLqyGlrQkfo6T0bYUdO_Th_Mbn1w9zFiecJFOTeWg6hvHjkXQNta8j8JUBdU/s1600/fullsizeoutput_18cd.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoGuYL_gnHp5kEP0VO__lS_1svktoLQLkQRRj8yb5rTT9w7jI37tYjOpuDWq2y6Qbqmz5rXjoySGT9dYonLqyGlrQkfo6T0bYUdO_Th_Mbn1w9zFiecJFOTeWg6hvHjkXQNta8j8JUBdU/s320/fullsizeoutput_18cd.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When we desire to honor the Lord no matter what, one thing we can always be guaranteed of is that we will encounter attacks from the enemy and opportunities to look for an easy way out. I want to be known, right down to the very end, as someone who will battle with courage and integrity and not always look for a "loophole" in order to protect myself.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">God has given us spiritual armour to protect ourselves with on a daily basis...</span></span><br />
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<i><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Eph-6-10" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">Ephesians 6:10 </span>A final word: Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.</span> <span class="text Eph-6-11" id="en-NLT-29309" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">11 </span>Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil.</span> <span class="text Eph-6-12" id="en-NLT-29310" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">12 </span>For 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.</span></span></b></i></div>
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<i><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Eph-6-13" id="en-NLT-29311" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">13 </span>Therefore, put on every piece of God’s armor so you will be able to resist the enemy in the time of evil. Then after the battle you will still be standing firm.</span> <span class="text Eph-6-14" id="en-NLT-29312" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">14 </span>Stand your ground, putting on the belt of truth and the body armor of God’s righteousness.</span> <span class="text Eph-6-15" id="en-NLT-29313" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">15 </span>For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News so that you will be fully prepared.</span> <span class="text Eph-6-16" id="en-NLT-29314" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">16 </span>In addition to all of these, hold up the shield of faith to stop the fiery arrows of the devil.</span> <span class="text Eph-6-17" id="en-NLT-29315" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">17 </span>Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.</span></span></b></i></div>
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<span class="text Eph-6-18" id="en-NLT-29316" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><i><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">18 </span>Pray in the Spirit at all times and on every occasion. Stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all believers everywhere.</span></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I also love how it's put in The Message...</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Eph-6-10-Eph-6-12" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">Ephesians 6:10-12 </span>And that about wraps it up. God is strong, and he wants you strong. So take everything the Master has set out for you, well-made weapons of the best materials. And put them to use so you will be able to stand up to everything the Devil throws your way. This is no afternoon athletic contest that we’ll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels.</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span class="text Eph-6-13-Eph-6-18" id="en-MSG-12469" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">13-18 </span>Be prepared. You’re up against far more than you can handle on your own. Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued, so that when it’s all over but the shouting you’ll still be on your feet. Truth, righteousness, peace, faith, and salvation are more than words. Learn how to apply them. You’ll need them throughout your life. God’s Word is an <span style="box-sizing: border-box;">indispensable</span> weapon. In the same way, prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare. Pray hard and long. Pray for your brothers and sisters. Keep your eyes open. Keep each other’s spirits up so that no one falls behind or drops out.</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span class="text Eph-6-13-Eph-6-18" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="text Eph-6-13-Eph-6-18" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjioRccUyKPKeJ3WIaOQZ-m9jYuE26csSp1oT6KH3Bho6koGP698s_2Ir7ofm0kzvINyV-4mze0_8M4Lp_2oREMHD4GvCjkhMTCXa__4bAQZpPkD1n8RsYAm9mri72YUjNrsCdBqnyuzM0/s1600/fullsizeoutput_14b3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjioRccUyKPKeJ3WIaOQZ-m9jYuE26csSp1oT6KH3Bho6koGP698s_2Ir7ofm0kzvINyV-4mze0_8M4Lp_2oREMHD4GvCjkhMTCXa__4bAQZpPkD1n8RsYAm9mri72YUjNrsCdBqnyuzM0/s320/fullsizeoutput_14b3.jpeg" width="213" /></a></span></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Lord, thank You that you desire to teach us in such cool and amazing ways wherever we may go! Thank You for the opportunity you gave Tim and me to travel to Israel and thank You for so many spiritual insights that You allowed us to be made aware of throughout our journey. I don't want to look for loopholes, Lord. I want to battle courageously right down to the very end. Thank You that You have given us everything we need to equip ourselves for the battle. Now help us battle well!!</span></i></b></div>
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barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-21955110974282669262017-09-05T20:08:00.001-04:002017-09-14T13:34:08.668-04:00Seasons<br />
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<b><i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Ecclesiastes 3:1 ~ There is a time</span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-17361A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-17361A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">for everything,</span></i></b></div>
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<span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b><i><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Eccl-3-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">and a season for every activity under the heavens...</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "verdana" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="text Eccl-3-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">The lazy days have come and gone and so has Labour Day. Summer is officially over and routines are being re-established. Alarm clocks are a daily occurrence and packed lunches are the norm. The familiar sound of the buses making their rounds disrupts the early morning quiet and carpool lines test the patience of those trapped within their confines. School is in full session.</span></span></div>
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We have had kids in school before. Rachel spent her senior year in a Christian school, Benji's entire high school years were spent at the same Christian school and Jesse has spent the last 3 years (freshman thru junior) at the public school down the road. We prayed a lot about what school would look like for Jesse, Hannah and Caleb this year and things look vastly different. Jesse is spending his senior year at Loganville Christian Academy. Hannah is a freshman at Bethlehem Christian Academy and Caleb is in 7th grade at BCA. Caleb is the youngest one we've had enter school, but he has been diagnosed with some learning differences and we felt it would be good for him to get a head-start so high school might be a little easier for him.</div>
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Not everyone was totally thrilled about their new assignment (okay, Jesse was the only one looking forward to the change), but they are settling in and learning a new way of life. Having a set (early) time to get up and trading jammies for uniforms to start the day have been a bit of an adjustment. The technological side of things has provided a few bumps in the road and more than one meltdown. Totally exasperated one afternoon as he tried to figure out how to find his homework assignments on Schoology Caleb blurted out, "<i>Whatever happened to pencils and paper? Pencils and paper! They worked great for hundreds of years! Why can't we just use pencils and paper</i>?" I have to admit I definitely lean hard into his thinking on this, especially as I get used to having to track 3 students on Renweb and Schoology. All in all, though, everyone is hitting their groove and things are much smoother than the first couple of weeks predicted they might be. All 3 students are making their way so that just leaves...</div>
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<b><i>Mama</i></b>!</div>
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The woman who, for 25 years, has always had at least one child home with her all day every day. The woman who was responsible for 21 years of information being introduced to 5 different students all in different grades and at different stages of life. The woman whose husband traveled all the time and who learned creative ways to keep toddlers busy while trying to teach others their times tables or how to dissect an owl pellet. The woman who fixed 3 meals a day and was continually cleaning the kitchen suddenly found that when she cleaned up after breakfast it stayed clean. </div>
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The first day of school was a moment I had been somewhat dreading. I had kept a strong front and cheerful face in the weeks leading up to the first day and all the way thru the drop-off line, but I didn't make it out of the parking lot before the tears started flowing. They flowed so much that I had to pull over somewhere to get myself together and I picked the one place I knew I wouldn't have to deal with other people guessing at why I was such a mess. I even turned off my GPS because I could envision Tim, wondering why I was taking so long, checking the tracker app and trying to figure out why in the world I was at...</div>
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<b><i>the pet cememtery!!</i></b></div>
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Yep! I knew there'd be no prying eyes or judgment passed at the pet cememtery so I ugly cried to my heart's content and mourned the end of a way of life for the Cash family. It wasn't that I felt like we hadn't made the best choice for each of them, but life as we knew it had come to an end and more than 2 decades of familiarity had been replaced. I finally managed to pull myself together enough to venture home to Tim and a handful of workers who were in the final stages of our kitchen renovation. I had to steal away often that day to resume crying and I felt like a wet dishrag that had been wrung out by the end of the day.</div>
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We're all finding a new normal and I am finding that I can clean the house and it stays that way for quite a while. There's less pressure now not being the sole person responsible for their entire education and my introverted self does relish the quiet. I sure do miss my kids, though. I imagine a part of me will always miss the time when life was a little simpler and school meant "us". I'm so thankful for all those days we had snuggled on the couch reading books that became treasured friends and I'm thankful for those days when we struggled to even want to be in the same room with each other because cabin fever had taken its toll on us. All those days, the good and the bad, were what allowed our hearts to be bound together and what made our family uniquely ours. </div>
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Those 25 years are so precious to me and I will be forever grateful that the Lord granted us that time together!!</div>
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<span class="text Eccl-3-4" id="en-NLT-17340" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><b><i>Ecclesiastes 3:4 ~ A time to cry and a time to laugh.</i></b></span></div>
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</span>barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-77065427744991748752017-08-23T10:24:00.001-04:002017-08-23T10:25:35.676-04:00Blessed?<div style="font-family: georgia; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">I’ve been seeing a lot of t-shirts and signs lately that have the word <i>“blessed”</i> included and it has had me thinking. It is obvious, based on their context, that this definition is the one being highlighted…</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>“bringing pleasure, contentment, or good fortune”.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">It’s the kind of definition that gives you the warm fuzzies and makes you feel like all is right in your world. Unfortunately, while many of the distributors of these items would consider themselves Christian and consider their items geared toward a Christian audience, I find a much different picture painted in scripture of what <i>“blessed”</i> actually means. Scripturally I find this definition to be a little more accurate…</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>“made holy; consecrated”.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">It’s definitely not the same thing and looking at Matthew 5 will help us understand the difference. I like the way the Phillip’s translation puts it. You just have to substitute <i>”blessed”</i> for <i>“happy”</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>‘Then he began his teaching by saying to them, “How happy are the humble-minded, for the kingdom of Heaven is theirs! “How happy are those who know what sorrow means for they will be given courage and comfort! “Happy are those who claim nothing, for the whole earth will belong to them! “Happy are those who are hungry and thirsty for goodness, for they will be fully satisfied! “Happy are the merciful, for they will have mercy shown to them! “Happy are the utterly sincere, for they will see God! “Happy are those who make peace, for they will be sons of God! “Happy are those who have suffered persecution for the cause of goodness, for the kingdom of Heaven is theirs! “And what happiness will be yours when people blame you and ill-treat you and say all kinds of slanderous things against you for my sake! Be glad then, yes, be tremendously glad—for your reward in Heaven is magnificent. They persecuted the prophets before your time in exactly the same way.’</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Most people don’t associate <i>sorrow, mourning, persecution and slander</i> with being blessed and therein lies the problem…we have sanitized the word <i>blessed</i> and dressed it up pretty and tried to pass it off as t-shirt worthy!</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Being blessed often implies a struggle or a seemingly undesirable event that causes us to press into God and focus on Him to meet our needs during that time. Scripture says that Mary was <i>blessed</i> and <i>highly favored</i> when she was chosen to carry Jesus and that would be pretty amazing to be chosen, out of all the women alive at the time, to do that. Let’s not forget what all that blessing entailed, though, because ultimately Mary had to watch her “baby” be scorned, persecuted, tortured and brutally murdered. I’m not sure about you, but I don’t imagine I’d be feeling very <i>“blessed” </i>during that time unless blessed means much more than what we have reduced it to these days. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I have been to the Dominican Republic and I have seen people who have much less than what even the poorest Americans have, and yet they had such an evident joy and excitement in their eyes that it made me realize that being blessed must be about much more than pleasure, contentment or good fortune. Jesus said in Luke 11;28, <b>“<i>blessed</i> are those who hear the word of God and observe it”</b>, and James 1:12 may give us one of the ultimate indications of what a blessed life truly looks like…</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b>“<i>Blessed</i> is a man who perseveres under trial; for once he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him.”</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I don’t want to get confused and misconstrue what blessed should look like because I have a responsibility to accurately communicate God’s truth to my children and those we minister to on a daily basis. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Many years ago we visited a church for a few weeks and on our 5th or 6th visit (Rachel and I were the only ones there that day) I finally had to walk out. I called Tim on the way home and told him that I couldn’t attend any more services at that church. I believe the pastor and many of those in attendance really love Jesus, I just don’t feel they accurately represented what walking with Him looks like on most days. Walking with Jesus looks much less like a pep rally or cruise ship for Jesus and much more like a path with peaks and valleys, rocks and other obstacles that can trip us up and some days just sheer grit and determination to stay focused on Him and obeying what He has shown us to do. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Don’t get me wrong, I feel very fortunate to live the life I have and I will be the first to admit that we lead, by the world’s standards, a very comfortable life. I might even venture out and say on most days I <i>feel</i> blessed. It’s certainly not because life is without its struggles, but rather because I really do desire to hear from God, honor Him and obey what He shows me to do…and most days I think I get that right. My tassel is far from being turned, but I’m pressing in and headed in the right direction. I don’t think we should eliminate all the shirts and signs that use the word <i>blessed</i>, but when we see them let’s pause and ponder what that really looks like in our own lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><b><i>Lord, let me not confuse pleasure or good fortune with true blessings in my life. Help me remember that blessings are often the intangibles in my life that are actually counter-intuitive and counter-cultural. May I ever keep before me the goal of spending eternity with You as the ultimate blessing that far surpasses anything this earth can offer!! Amen!!</i></b></span></div>
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barbcash.comhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04115543529314321015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-18422053412920425412017-02-28T08:02:00.000-05:002017-02-28T08:02:02.708-05:00Consequences<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">God has been doing so much in our Body of believers over the last few months and it has been amazing to see!! Chains are being loosed and captives are being set free. Shame is being identified and lifted from the shoulders of those who have borne it for far too long. It's been a beautiful thing to see but, as is usually the case, it has not come without attack and the stirring of chaos and confusion from the enemy. We are seeing one of the greatest attacks in the area of marriages that I have ever seen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm always hesitant to give the enemy too much credit in the midst of sin because, while I DO know he schemes and desires to lead our hearts astray, I never want to discount the fact that we have personal responsibility when we start going down a dark and sinful path. That being said, marriages are being torn apart and families are being left in fragmented pieces, wondering what just hit them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Over the course of our 26+ years in ministry we have counseled more couples who have struggled in their marriages than we could ever begin to count. Many of them have struggled for years and stable misery is the best that they have come up with to get through the days that have eventually led to years of dissatisfaction. That's not what I'm talking about here, though.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Lately, we are seeing people who are in church every week, hearing Truth and appearing to desire to stand on Truth's side absolutely trip a switch and not just crack open a door of sin, but throw the door open and march on through. It is heart-breaking!!! I have cried more the last few months and, particularly the last few weeks, than I may have ever cried before in my life. I've cried for the collateral damage that these people I care about are leaving behind, but mostly I have cried for those who have broken covenant themselves. I've cried because of this one thing...</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There are severe and lasting consequences for disobeying God and violating His Word!!!!!</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh, how my heart breaks for them. Sin is pleasurable for a season, but eventually, once the newness has worn off and life again becomes routine (because the level of excitement a new relationship brings can not be sustained forever), these wayward souls will wake up one day and see the ruins that their choices have created.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Hebrews 4: 12-13 says, "<span class="text Heb-4-12" id="en-NLT-29987" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px;">For the word of God is alive and powerful. It is sharper than the sharpest two-edged sword, cutting between soul and spirit, between joint and marrow. It exposes our innermost thoughts and desires.</span><span class="text Heb-4-12" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span class="text Heb-4-13" id="en-NLT-29988" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px;">Nothing in all creation is hidden from God. Everything is naked and exposed before his eyes, and he is the one to whom we are accountable."</span></i></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We can rationalize our actions all we want, but God sees our hearts and they are laid bare before Him!!! There is NO escaping it!!! Here's the thing, though...</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It is NEVER too late to repent, turn from our sin and reconcile ourselves with God and others!!!</span></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Ps-51-7" id="en-NLT-14675" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; position: relative; text-align: start;">Psalm 51: 7-11 ~ "Purify me from my sins,<span class="footnote" data-fn="#fen-NLT-14675c" data-link="[<a href="#fen-NLT-14675c" title="See footnote c">c</a>]" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">[<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=psalm+51&version=NLT#fen-NLT-14675c" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #b34b2c; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote c">c</a>]</span> and I will be clean;</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;" /><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-51-7" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.</span></span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;" /><span class="text Ps-51-8" id="en-NLT-14676" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; position: relative; text-align: start;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-size: 12px; left: -4.4em; line-height: 22px; position: absolute; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>Oh, give me back my joy again;</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;" /><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-51-8" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">you have broken me—</span></span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;" /><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-51-8" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">now let me rejoice.</span></span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;" /><span class="text Ps-51-9" id="en-NLT-14677" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; position: relative; text-align: start;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-size: 12px; left: -4.4em; line-height: 22px; position: absolute; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>Don’t keep looking at my sins.</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;" /><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-51-9" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">Remove the stain of my guilt.</span></span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;" /><span class="text Ps-51-10" id="en-NLT-14678" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; position: relative; text-align: start;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-size: 12px; left: -4.4em; line-height: 22px; position: absolute; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>Create in me a clean heart, O God.</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;" /><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-51-10" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">Renew a loyal spirit within me.</span></span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;" /><span class="text Ps-51-11" id="en-NLT-14679" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; position: relative; text-align: start;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-size: 12px; left: -4.4em; line-height: 22px; position: absolute; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>Do not banish me from your presence,</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;" /><span class="indent-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; text-align: start;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-51-11" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">and don’t take your Holy Spirit<span style="font-size: 10px;"> </span>from me."</span></span></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Oh, how I pray that those whom I love and care about have their eyes opened and their hearts arrested with the truth of their sin. How I long to see them fall on their faces and confess their sin and and violently repent!!! It may be too late to reconcile their marriages, but it is NEVER too late to be </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">broken before the Lord and restored to a right relationship with Him!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">During war, the only way a victory has a chance of being experienced is for the troops to be united, all pulling in the same direction and working toward the same goal. There is no difference in this spiritual battle that is going on around us. For that reason, there is a group of us who have come together and developed a battle plan! Our brothers and sisters may have entered into enemy territory, but we are not going to allow them to stay there without a fight!! To that end, we have each chosen a particular time of day and set a daily, recurring alarm to go off on our phones and when it does we stop and intentionally and specifically pray for those we know are behind enemy lines. We may not see all of them experience brokenness and repentance, but it will certainly not be because we let them go and didn't intercede on their behalf!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b><span class="text Eph-6-10" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px;">Ephesians 6: 11-12 says, "Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.</span><span class="text Eph-6-11" id="en-NLT-29309" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 12px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text Eph-6-12" id="en-NLT-29310" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px;">For 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."</span></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>We're suited up, armed and ready...and I challenge you to do the same!</i></b></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-91742743129607263332016-08-23T20:55:00.002-04:002016-08-23T20:55:32.292-04:00Ministering Angels<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A couple of weeks ago I experienced a few days of deep brokenness. On the same day that I learned my friends' 15yo son had drowned, I also suffered a betrayal from someone I had considered a fairly close friend. As someone who is generally able to muddle thru even the toughest days and who is not much for crying, I found myself unable to do much more than sit and cry endlessly. It just all seemed like too much. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">While the betrayal hurt and felt like an extra burden, the tears were much more as a result of feeling so utterly heart-broken for my friends. When I saw them at the funeral home they, as is often the case, seemed to do more to encourage me and speak words of peace to me than I did for them. In a very uncharacteristic show of emotion, I teared up while talking to them, but managed to hold it together until I got outside and then...the floodgates opened. And I wept. For hours. I missed a birthday party for a special person in my life because I could not stop crying. I finally cried myself to sleep and awoke in the morning only to have the tears begin afresh.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I expressed to Tim my confusion because I have dealt with some horrific tragedies in our ministry to others, but never had I felt such an uncontrollable need to sob. I cried for hours that morning and pulled myself together enough to walk into church without causing a scene. The tears began to fall again during worship, I sniffed my way through the message and then I bawled like a baby during worship at the end of church. I left by myself to go home and get lunch ready and I cried so hard on the way home that I thought I'd have to pull over. In my desperation to understand why I was struggling so, I cried out to the Lord. I asked Him why I was experiencing such uncharacteristic brokenness. Now don't get me wrong, I have felt devastated for people I have cared about before and I have shed tears as I watched their pain, but this was different. This felt like such a personal loss and I told Him that as I drove. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I truly felt almost like I had lost a child and was mourning as a distraught Mama would mourn the loss of one of her own babies and, as soon as I voiced that to Him there in the quietness of my car, I felt deep inside that He told me I was right. He told me that He was allowing me to bear some of the Mama grief for my friend because she had 2 memorial services she was speaking at to honor her son and she needed to be able to help her other children process their own grief. As strange as it may sound, I knew at the moment that this was what it would feel like to lose a child and, while my friend would have a lifetime to mourn, for these few days He was letting me shoulder some of her pain.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I came home and texted my friend and told her what the Lord had shown me and she said she wasn't surprised because from the first time we had met we had a deep heart connection. In that moment of confirmation, the pain I felt suddenly went from feeling like a weight upon my shoulders to a holy privilege that I carried with care.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now my reason for sharing all this isn't even to highlight the part I played in what happened that weekend, but rather to set the stage to share how the Lord ministered to me in a deeply profound way in my distress. For when you are a part of the Body of believers, He allows us to be ministered to by some we know will be by our side always and others who He puts in our path to lift up our arms in unexpected ways...and that happened for me that weekend. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He, of course, used Tim, my kids and my parents to love me and let me cry when I needed to, regardless of what I might be neglecting at the time. He used Karen, the one who I always say is the reason I am not in a padded cell yet, to encourage me, check on me, pray for me and offer to do whatever I needed her to do. He used Kim and the rest of our Bloom leadership (Mikki, Amanda, Shelley and April) to pray for me and to encourage me and to release me from any need I might feel to be there for others because they had it all covered. He let Anthony and Rachel come over Saturday night to check on me because He knows laughter is good medicine and they were the perfect ones to make that happen. He allowed my dear friend, Tonja, to be able to be at church that Sunday and I was able to sit with her and her husband, Bengie. This was so huge for me because, when I finally came totally unglued at the end of service, Tonja held me and rubbed my back and kissed my head and did what she does best...she mothered me. He let a lady who I have not gotten to spend much time with, Betty, come up and pray for me without knowing exactly what she was praying for. He allowed my sweet friend, Michelle, to give me one of the best hugs I've ever had and then take me by my shoulders and look deep into my eyes and tell me she loved me. He used Lisa and Nic and so many others, so many that I know I'm leaving some out, to simply give me a hug because they knew words were not necessary. And He used them, all of them, to remind me of this very important scriptural principle...</span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">we need each other!!!</span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Those who love us are important when times are good, but those who love us are essential when we are hurting. He also showed me that, while He often has me on the giving end in times of need, it's okay to admit when I'm the one who is hurting and has needs. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That weekend taught me a lot. It made me realize, first and foremost, that life can change in an instant and so we need to keep short accounts with each other. It made me realize that having good friends is a gift and being a good friend is a privilege. It made me even more attune to the pain and needs of others and it gave me a renewed desire to work at relationships and not let petty disagreements cause us to get sideways. </span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'm thankful He always uses pain for our good when we yield to Him and I pray He will forever let me remember the first weekend of August 2016!!</span></i></b></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-23307702970991163822016-08-22T09:07:00.001-04:002016-08-22T09:37:07.080-04:00He Shouldn't Always Have to Shout<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 15px;">Tim is reading a book by John Ortberg entitled, "God is Closer Than You Think", and he was sharing with me some portions out of it this morning. What he read to me piggybacked perfectly on what I had already read and been meditating on this morning and that usually means (to me anyway) that God might be trying to make a point.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px;">John Ortberg said<i>, '</i></span><span style="font-size: 15px; font-style: italic;">So why doesn’t He (God) send us all dreams every night? Why doesn’t he make every day a rainbow day and send epiphanies twenty-four-seven? Maybe it’s because God wants us to learn to see him in the ordinary rather than be dependent on the extraordinary. Maybe it’s because if God regularly satisfied our demand for special effects it would be like a mother who inadvertently trains her children to pay attention only when she raises her voice.'</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px;">This is the reality, for those of us who love Jesus, know His word, read His word and walk intimately with Him (at least the majority of days), He is always speaking to us. That is why He tells us that we should hide His word in our hearts because...</span></span><br />
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<i style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; text-align: center;">every part of Scripture is God-breathed and useful one way or another—showing us truth, exposing our rebellion, correcting our mistakes, training us to live God’s way. Through the Word we are put together and shaped up for the tasks God has for us.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 15px;">The difficulty comes when we become dissatisfied with <i>usually</i> hearing from Him the way everyone else does (through his Word, either when reading it or having Him bring it to the forefront of our minds at a specific time) and we start needing to go from one "God told me" moment to the next. The reason this becomes dangerous thinking is that <i><b>we can end up using it to promote self's ability to hear rather than God's ability to speak!!! </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px;">God doesn't suffer from bouts of laryngitis. He is never restricted from speaking to us...ever. To circle back around to John Ortberg's example of the mother who must raise her voice to get the attention of her children, she had never lost her ability to speak. Her children had just lost their ability to hear unless she shouted.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px;">I wrote a blog post a few years ago and I made the observation that there must be beauty in the mundane, everyday rhythms of life because, otherwise, the extraordinary would become the standard and not one person can maintain that for very long without becoming burned out and exhausted. The same is true when it comes to hearing, or more appropriately "listening", to God.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px;">Now, before you start getting your panties in a wad and think I'm saying there are not times that God speaks to us in a more momentous and time-stopping way...I'm not. There are definitely times, to use the mother analogy again, when I gather my children (or a specific child) to me and begin by saying, "Look, I really need you to listen to what I'm about to say because it's important." I'm a firm believer that God has those moments with us because I've experienced them. I've had those experiences in church, one time in particular, when everyone else may as well have gone home because the message He was delivering through the pastor was just for me. There have been other times when I've heard that still, small voice whisper in my ear and there have been times when I've been halted in my tracks because He has bellowed for me to, "Stop", or otherwise I would be walking straight into danger!! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px;">It happens...I just don't think it happens all the time because then we would become immune to all the special, everyday moments He gives us. Similarly, if this were the case, our "<i>Eucharisteo</i>" (our ability to express gratitude) would be reduced to only thanking Him when He did the extraordinary...and what parent wants that to happen? I think maybe...just maybe...the problem oftentimes is that we become distracted by the voices we are surrounded by, not to mention the voices in our own heads, and <i>shouting</i> may be His only option to gain back our attention. And truth be told, I think sometimes we give Him credit for speaking things that He really doesn't want to be credited with because it really wasn't His voice we heard at all. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 15px;"><b><i>Thank You, Lord that You give us the ability to see You in the everyday, mundane, coming and goings of our lives. Thank You that You are as intimately involved in our lives when You speak to us in a relaxed way, such as through Your word, as You are when You seemingly stop time in order to get a point across to us. Thank You that I need not focus on my great ability to hear You, but I can rest in the knowledge that You are constantly speaking to me thru Your Word and will make sure I hear what I need to hear when I need to hear it because You will never lose Your ability to speak.</i></b></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-45111753881526343932016-08-15T09:47:00.000-04:002016-08-15T10:01:11.892-04:00Donkeys and Siri and Other Ways God Speaks to Us<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As I sit down to write this morning, I am so excited that I am praying my fingers can keep up with the rate at which my mind is spinning and needing to get the words down on paper (which is actually a screen, but I prefer to think of it as paper). I am a firm believer that God still speaks to us in a myriad of ways, just as he did in the Bible. I do think we need to be careful when we say, "God said...", or "God spoke...to me", because sometimes I think we put words in His mouth to manipulate situations, but I digress. The point of this post is to share with you that God spoke this morning and we need to listen!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was texting with a friend and we were discussing the pruning that God is doing in our own lives and the pruning that we see Him doing in our Body of believers. During our conversation I was type-texing and my friend was using Siri to speak-text. My friend's message to me through Siri was that God had shown her it was time to quit focusing on the pruning and to start focusing on the growth that we are seeing as a result of it. Growth in our own lives and growth in our Body. But here's the thing...</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Siri changed the word "<b>growth</b>" to the word "<b>eucharist</b>". </span></i></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Eucharist!! </span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I don't know about you, but there is nothing that sounds the least bit similar in the words <i>"growth" </i>and <i>"eucharist"</i>. I can't imagine anyone saying, <i>"We need to focus on the <b>'growth'</b> He's bringing about"</i>, and me saying, <i>"I'm sorry, did you say we need to focus on the <b>'eucharist'?</b>" </i> It's just not going to happen!! Now this may not rouse the same degree of excitement in you as it did my friend and me (okay, maybe we were initially a little freaked out at first) because you might not understand what the word <i>"eucharist"</i> really means.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The word <i>"eucharist" </i>in Greek is the word <i>"echaristia"</i> and in Hebrew it is the word <i>"berekah".</i> All 3 of them simply mean, <i>" thanksgiving or praise for the wonderful work of God." </i>Additionally, the root of<i> "eucharist"</i> is the word <i>"charis"</i> which means <i>"grace"</i> and it also encompasses the word <i>"chara" </i>which means <i>"joy"</i>. Are you starting to see it now? We were looking at pruning from the simple standpoint of growth, but God (by way of Siri) was saying...</span><br />
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<i><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"My pruning should be something you give praise and thanksgiving for because of the work I'm doing in bringing forth incredible grace and joy in your midst."</span></b></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Suddenly <i>"growth"</i> seems like a measly and insufficient word when you compare it to <i>"eucharist"</i>!! And the crazy part is that God used Siri to help remind us what He is doing in our midst.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now I'm sure some of you may think I inhaled too many paint fumes last week while I was refinishing furniture and that I'm creating something that isn't there just for the purpose of having something to write about, but may I remind you that God used a <i>donkey </i>to speak to Balaam in the Bible. Read it for yourself in Numbers 22:21-35. It's right there. God had sent an angel of the Lord to speak to Balaam, but he kept missing it. The donkey didn't, though. The donkey saw the angel every single time and tried to get Balaam's attention and finally, when it seemed like Balaam was just going to miss out on God entirely it says <i>"God gave speech to the donkey"</i>. God was so determined that Balaam not miss what He was doing that He used a donkey and <i>made it talk</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That is why I am fully convinced that if God can use a donkey back then He can use Siri now and this is why I think He did it...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I can get so consumed sometimes by how painful the <b><i>process</i></b> of pruning is in my own life and in what I see going on around me that I miss out on the <b><i>purpose</i></b> for the pruning. His purpose for pruning in our lives and in His Body as a whole is always to remove anything that causes us to be unhealthy or weighed down by unnecessary, non fruit-producing baggage so that we can experience growth and so that His work of grace and joy in our lives has the freedom to flourish. Pruning is always for our good! ALWAYS!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">How thankful I am that I can be assured that, while never pleasant at the time, I will always look back on the pruning process and see the purpose...even though it may take a while. How thankful I am for the grace and joy that I am witnessing in my own life and in the lives of those I get to walk with and do life with. </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">And how thankful I am that God can use a virtual assistant named <b>Siri t</b>o make sure we don't miss out on what He is ultimately doing!!!</span></i></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lord, I thank You that You have no limits and no restrictions on how You can speak to us! I thank You that You love us so much that You will stop us dead in our tracks to get our attention so we can witness firsthand what You are doing. Thank You for the pruning that You have recently been doing in me, personally, and thank You for the pruning in our Body. May You find us faithful in obeying what we know You have laid out for us to do and may we all rejoice together at the grace and joy that is bursting forth in our midst. I want You to continue to "create in me a clean heart" even if it means cutting away those things I continue to allow to hinder the process. I love You, Lord, and I love watching the way You work!!</span></i></b></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2718578282948149866.post-45495588094027941682016-08-06T09:53:00.001-04:002016-08-06T09:53:08.635-04:00It's Not About Me......<br />
It can be easy sometimes to wonder if God really sees all that's going on and cares about all of it. I'm here to tell you He does.<br />
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I recently acquired Hannah's old bedroom in a rather extensive room swap that went on around here. I waited almost 26 years, but I finally have my own space...an office/craft room. Last night I was getting things organized in there and I came across 2 index cards that I had written out many years ago and had not seen in at least 4 years because they had been tucked away in a drawer. I pulled them out and began to read them and wasn't sure if I should laugh or cry because they were exactly what I needed to read after a day that was hard on my heart…<br />
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So there it was, His quiet explanation and reminder that…</div>
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<b><i>It's not about ME!!!!</i></b></div>
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I'm not here to tell you that relational discord is easy, enjoyable or any less hurtful the more it happens. I AM here to tell you that none of it…NONE OF IT…goes unnoticed by Him!!!</div>
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Today is a new day with new mercies. Weeping may last for a night, but <i><b>JOY</b></i> comes in the morning. May we each experience a day filled with gentle reminders of His intimate involvement in every minute detail of our lives and may we be filled with joy because of it!!!</div>
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