Holy Spirit be with me as I write this:
I was grunting and groaning as I walked in our front door following a Christmas family get together. How did I fit all that food in my tummy? "Love you," I said to our little Emma as I put her down for her very late nap. Literally plopped myself down on the couch and grabbed the lap top to check email and Facebook.
It doesn't take long before smile turns upside down as my eyes scan an email from a friend. On our bible study group page she is requesting prayer for someone at her work who has breast cancer. That someone happens to be our neighbor. My frown turns jagged as I fill with anger. I begin talking to God, "Really? I have had it with the "C" word. I just want to go over and pray for her and there to be healing. Lord our sister at church to have healing. My father-in-laws sister for healing. I am sick of raising money."
Then a little revelation. Please do not misunderstand me as I write this I think it is so amazing the hearts that raise money for Cancer. I believe God has a purpose for that. My revelation or vision happens. Are we so busy raising money to find a cure that we are forgetting about Gods healing hands? Are we forgetting to teach people to pray for healing first then raise money?
My vision is so amazing...Imagine a Faithraiser instead of a Fundraiser. No forms or t-shirts. I see the curbs are full of people who are waiting to pray. Hands are raised, eyes are closed, worship is happening, SPIRIT is alive, tongues are praising, eye lashes are twitching and arms are high. Those who know a fire tunnel this would be fun.
Then the Faithraiser starts....Jesus with his cross begins the walk. Following Him are children with cancer, adults with cancer, people who are blind and the list is endless of those who need healing. I would be walking down with my anxiety but quickly side step to the curb so I can pray for rest of the people. I see thousands of angels all assigned to a certain person.
These Faithraisers can happen everyday. God is waiting for us to ask Him. God is waiting for us to teach people to trust in him more. Don't google what type of cancer or disease people have google how to pray for healing. While we need money to find a cure what we need more is people in the hospital beside beds praying for healing or going into someones home and singing worship songs with them. Don't tell someone, "I hope everything will be OK" declare to them, "God will take care of everything."
While I believe God wants physical healing I also believe more so for internal healing. Having two children with Cerebral Palsy I pray for physical healing everyday, but my Spirit says, "Pray for their hearts and minds and souls. When they are full on the inside it won't matter how they walk or talk. The shadows of their wheelchairs, crutches and walkers will heal others."
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Surrounded by an Army
Holy Spirit guide my heart as I write this:
The heaviness I was carrying made it difficult to get in the front door of our house after church a couple of months ago. Church was a huge let down. Not because of our Pastor instead the spirit of anxiety I carried. Strong enough to prevent me from entering the sanctuary for service. Instead my amazing Christian sister sits with me just outside the sanctuary doors. I twitched my leg back and forth listening to our Pastor preach on a bible story of a man who ran up to the front and asked for demons to be rebuked. Wow the urge to run up to our Pastor in the middle of the service and plead for my church family to help me. Getting a pain in my side I quickly scurry back down to the church basement where I felt safe watching the summer Sunday school take place.
Hunger for church is an understatment. I was starving but such a force was holding me back. As we drove home tears clouded my vision. "What is wrong with me? I need church so bad yet I can't even sit in on a service." I thought to myself.
Once home down into our rec room I went to surround myself in my safety net. Wondering if my problem would ever ever end. I look out the same old window and pray for the day I wouldn't feel so alone and safe to go outdoors.
About half and hour later the Pastor's wife comes down into our rec room and shares she was thinking of me. I was in shock. I talk to her once in a while but for her to come over during my struggles was amazing to me. She then came over and sat down beside me and asked how I was doing and asked if it was ok to pray for me. She then said, "I brought a whole bus load of people to surround your house and pray."
It took a second for the whole busload comment to sink in and I started to cry and said, "The whole bus came to pray?"
See it was beach day and many of our youth and a few families were heading to the beach. One of my Christian brothers had on his heart during that mornings church service to come pray for me. He then came down and greeted me with tears and a big hug and comforting reasurance he was there for me. He too knows personally of my struggles.
Within moments over 50 brothers and sisters, young and old, even the bus driver surrounded our home and prayed for me. Seeing the youth out with their eyes closed for me was a surreal moment. Even if they were thinking only of the beach or what was brought for snacks the fact that they surrounded my house and made such an impact it will never ever be forgotten. As I am down in our rec room I go to that window to see my church family standing outside with their heads bowed praying. I was sobbing without control. One of my very dear christians brothers come to the window and we touch hands on the screen. He prayed and I cried and I kept saying, "Thank you, thank you."
I felt amazing and they all clapped. I so wanted to go to the beach with them but really what just happened was so overwhelming for me and felt so darn good, keeping that moment without distractions of the beach felt safer. Our kids were so excited and yet surprised they all surrounded our house. We all waved out the front door as they drove off to continue with their day at the beach.
Me on the other hand sobbed for about half and hour after they left. I felt peace, excited, overwhelmed, thankful and wondered if they all knew how much that changed my course of recovery. I have never felt so loved in my life.
After that moment every time I looked out the window I saw the house surrounded by an army. God's loving Army. No guns, tanks or government control. God's obedient children just stopping by on the way to the beach to pray for our little family. So many to thank but I praise God that he heard my cry of wanting to be a part of church and really needing prayer that day. He knew how I wanted to run up to the pulpit and get the whole church to pray for me.
He loves me and my family so much he sent a whole bus load. He heard my cry. My friend, Andy for listening to his heart during service. So exciting how God works. I love them all so much.
AMEN
The heaviness I was carrying made it difficult to get in the front door of our house after church a couple of months ago. Church was a huge let down. Not because of our Pastor instead the spirit of anxiety I carried. Strong enough to prevent me from entering the sanctuary for service. Instead my amazing Christian sister sits with me just outside the sanctuary doors. I twitched my leg back and forth listening to our Pastor preach on a bible story of a man who ran up to the front and asked for demons to be rebuked. Wow the urge to run up to our Pastor in the middle of the service and plead for my church family to help me. Getting a pain in my side I quickly scurry back down to the church basement where I felt safe watching the summer Sunday school take place.
Hunger for church is an understatment. I was starving but such a force was holding me back. As we drove home tears clouded my vision. "What is wrong with me? I need church so bad yet I can't even sit in on a service." I thought to myself.
Once home down into our rec room I went to surround myself in my safety net. Wondering if my problem would ever ever end. I look out the same old window and pray for the day I wouldn't feel so alone and safe to go outdoors.
About half and hour later the Pastor's wife comes down into our rec room and shares she was thinking of me. I was in shock. I talk to her once in a while but for her to come over during my struggles was amazing to me. She then came over and sat down beside me and asked how I was doing and asked if it was ok to pray for me. She then said, "I brought a whole bus load of people to surround your house and pray."
It took a second for the whole busload comment to sink in and I started to cry and said, "The whole bus came to pray?"
See it was beach day and many of our youth and a few families were heading to the beach. One of my Christian brothers had on his heart during that mornings church service to come pray for me. He then came down and greeted me with tears and a big hug and comforting reasurance he was there for me. He too knows personally of my struggles.
Within moments over 50 brothers and sisters, young and old, even the bus driver surrounded our home and prayed for me. Seeing the youth out with their eyes closed for me was a surreal moment. Even if they were thinking only of the beach or what was brought for snacks the fact that they surrounded my house and made such an impact it will never ever be forgotten. As I am down in our rec room I go to that window to see my church family standing outside with their heads bowed praying. I was sobbing without control. One of my very dear christians brothers come to the window and we touch hands on the screen. He prayed and I cried and I kept saying, "Thank you, thank you."
I felt amazing and they all clapped. I so wanted to go to the beach with them but really what just happened was so overwhelming for me and felt so darn good, keeping that moment without distractions of the beach felt safer. Our kids were so excited and yet surprised they all surrounded our house. We all waved out the front door as they drove off to continue with their day at the beach.
Me on the other hand sobbed for about half and hour after they left. I felt peace, excited, overwhelmed, thankful and wondered if they all knew how much that changed my course of recovery. I have never felt so loved in my life.
After that moment every time I looked out the window I saw the house surrounded by an army. God's loving Army. No guns, tanks or government control. God's obedient children just stopping by on the way to the beach to pray for our little family. So many to thank but I praise God that he heard my cry of wanting to be a part of church and really needing prayer that day. He knew how I wanted to run up to the pulpit and get the whole church to pray for me.
He loves me and my family so much he sent a whole bus load. He heard my cry. My friend, Andy for listening to his heart during service. So exciting how God works. I love them all so much.
AMEN
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Giving the battle to the cross
Yesterday my God Daughter made her confirmation. Who knew she would grow up so fast.
God is so proud of His princess as she made her way through the day. Oh how she looked so beautiful in her dress and outshinning the dress is her stunning personality glowing from the inside. As I see her I remember when she was born and all the birthday parties and being there for her baptism. Having given my life to Jesus 4 years ago now and growing in a new real faith I have learned what it means to truly be a GOD parent. It is actually not even about me! That shinning cross in the picture is all about my relationship to the man who died for me on the cross. Because of that relationship and forever growing faith I can pray for her like I never knew how before. If she ever wants to learn or talk about God I can be that God parent to teach her like I never would have before. I can be there for her if things go wrong in her life or she steers off the wrong track. I have Jesus's love in me and I will love her no matter what.
My heart remembers what my aunt said to me as I enjoy my God Daughters day from clicking on the next errow through pictures on facebook. "Heather our church doesn't think you exist (are a God parent) anymore because you don't go to our Catholic church anymore." As I look at picture after picture of my beautiful God daughter I give the battle to the cross:
"Lord why would one of your churches have such a rule? I can not see any where in Your word where that is right or something You would want. Papa I grew up in that church and the God I was taught about there is who I know now in our church. It shouldn't be about being Catholic, United, Presbytery should it? I just want to be known as a follower of You. Dean and I would have loved to be there and are so thankful we know that You Jesus were there with her. Lord it doesn't matter why we weren't invited or what the case may be. No one can take away we were still there in Your spirit for her special day and we will always love her and be her God Parents. We will be praying for her and her family always. In your precious name. AMEN"
Friday, June 1, 2012
HARDENED TEARS
People do it everywhere, at church, at groups, weddings, baby showers, graduations. That moment when the ducts open and tears flow. Tears that do not care who is around and what is thought.
In my small bible group that gathers once a week I find myself in awe of those who cry around me. Hearts opening up about family situations, children struggles and even faith struggles allowing those tiniest of water falls to start. As I find myself getting choked up feeling their every hurt or wanting to share about my many struggles out of no where like the speed of light a brick wall locks around my heart sending a hardening paste up to my eyes. How dare I cry in public.
A conversation in my mind begins:
"People will think you don't have it together Heather" I hear.
"I really feel their hurt though" I respond. "It is ok to cry this is a safe place," I add
"Hahahahah are you kidding they won't understand why you are crying. Especially when they hear what your small struggle is," I hear.
"Sometimes it is hard to be a parent of a child with special needs and I really need prayer," I cry inward.
"Really Heather, then they are all going to be thinking in their heads why you don't just suck it up and deal with it nothing can be changed," I hear.
"It is no different then her talking about her same family struggles all the time. My brothers and sisters are not going to be thinking that of me," I try to declare.
"Now your just being stupid, if you say anything what do you think they will think of you and Dean adopting yet another child with special needs. They will all think you are crazy if you can't even handle some days you have now. Don't do it, don't ask." I hear.
"Maybe you are right. I will be ok. I must be strong. I can do it myself. There won't be enough time to talk about my struggles anyways." I say with my heart hurting but mind starting to believe. "I could really use prayer though and to leave my baggage at the cross."
"Do I really need to remind you how many times you have left that same baggage at the cross? It is not safe Heather, these people are going to tell others and then more people will know you can't handle being a parent." I hear.
"No my brothers and sisters here at group are safe and I know they will help me. I need to release some of my tears. I deserve prayer. I am not meant to be alone in all of this. They all know how much I love and adore my children and would do anything for them." I battle back.
"As soon as they hear your words and watch you cry they are going to think differently of you. They are going to all talk behind your back. You will have to walk around all the time wondering who knows about what you talked about and if they think you are weak." I hear.
"Oh great now we are out of time at group. It is too late. Oh well I will wait till I get home and cry where no one knows." I cry inside.
I walk in my house and the tears flow. Time and time again tears noone ever sees, struggles noone ever hears.
"Papa I pray for Holy Spirit water to soften my hardened tears so I can reach out to those who love me and will support me no matter how many tears or struggles I share. Let those words that are not of you be jumbled and reworded to encourage. I pray for those moments I am brought to my knees and release everything."
In my small bible group that gathers once a week I find myself in awe of those who cry around me. Hearts opening up about family situations, children struggles and even faith struggles allowing those tiniest of water falls to start. As I find myself getting choked up feeling their every hurt or wanting to share about my many struggles out of no where like the speed of light a brick wall locks around my heart sending a hardening paste up to my eyes. How dare I cry in public. A conversation in my mind begins:
"People will think you don't have it together Heather" I hear.
"I really feel their hurt though" I respond. "It is ok to cry this is a safe place," I add
"Hahahahah are you kidding they won't understand why you are crying. Especially when they hear what your small struggle is," I hear.
"Sometimes it is hard to be a parent of a child with special needs and I really need prayer," I cry inward.
"Really Heather, then they are all going to be thinking in their heads why you don't just suck it up and deal with it nothing can be changed," I hear.
"It is no different then her talking about her same family struggles all the time. My brothers and sisters are not going to be thinking that of me," I try to declare.
"Now your just being stupid, if you say anything what do you think they will think of you and Dean adopting yet another child with special needs. They will all think you are crazy if you can't even handle some days you have now. Don't do it, don't ask." I hear.
"Maybe you are right. I will be ok. I must be strong. I can do it myself. There won't be enough time to talk about my struggles anyways." I say with my heart hurting but mind starting to believe. "I could really use prayer though and to leave my baggage at the cross."
"Do I really need to remind you how many times you have left that same baggage at the cross? It is not safe Heather, these people are going to tell others and then more people will know you can't handle being a parent." I hear.
"No my brothers and sisters here at group are safe and I know they will help me. I need to release some of my tears. I deserve prayer. I am not meant to be alone in all of this. They all know how much I love and adore my children and would do anything for them." I battle back.
"As soon as they hear your words and watch you cry they are going to think differently of you. They are going to all talk behind your back. You will have to walk around all the time wondering who knows about what you talked about and if they think you are weak." I hear.
"Oh great now we are out of time at group. It is too late. Oh well I will wait till I get home and cry where no one knows." I cry inside.
I walk in my house and the tears flow. Time and time again tears noone ever sees, struggles noone ever hears.
"Papa I pray for Holy Spirit water to soften my hardened tears so I can reach out to those who love me and will support me no matter how many tears or struggles I share. Let those words that are not of you be jumbled and reworded to encourage. I pray for those moments I am brought to my knees and release everything."
Thursday, May 17, 2012
WHY I WRITE
As I laid my head on my pillow after our monthly writers meeting my mind was ready to sleep but my heart was in a downward slide as I feel the answers behind our homework. Why I write?
I assumed I would have so many happy reasons why I write to share but my first thoughts kept me going down in big slide into really question why I do write.
Do you ever have a conversation with someone talking about something really dear to you and the listener cuts you off mid thought and switches to assume they know what you are talking about? Or switch to somehow have a situation similar to yours? At that moment however you just need someone to listen.
What about friends or family members who are going through a very hard time and the words are not jumping out of your mouth?
Or you want to pray for someone going through a tough time or just has a sore back or having a bad day and it is hard to speak the spirits words.
When you type you just find it easier to have time to cut and paste and re write on the pixel canvas then to share vibrations out your mouth?
Is your life full of so many moments that are hard, life changing, amazing, filled with sorrow, moments that are just made up, revelations, moments you want to forget, moments where mountains were moved, times God was there and times it felt like He disappeared?
Do you ever have midnight writings where you just can't go to sleep without writing your thoughts or ideas out?
Is there someone in your family that loves writing or is creative?
Are you surrounded by people who have read your work and still encourage you as your writing is good and tell you to keep going?
When I put my pencil to paper and have little pieces of eraser all around the paper or type and backspace or cut and paste or have crumpled up paper in the recycle bin the above reasons are just enough to keep me within 200-300 words for my homework as to WHY I WRITE.
I assumed I would have so many happy reasons why I write to share but my first thoughts kept me going down in big slide into really question why I do write.
Do you ever have a conversation with someone talking about something really dear to you and the listener cuts you off mid thought and switches to assume they know what you are talking about? Or switch to somehow have a situation similar to yours? At that moment however you just need someone to listen.
What about friends or family members who are going through a very hard time and the words are not jumping out of your mouth?
Or you want to pray for someone going through a tough time or just has a sore back or having a bad day and it is hard to speak the spirits words.
When you type you just find it easier to have time to cut and paste and re write on the pixel canvas then to share vibrations out your mouth?
Is your life full of so many moments that are hard, life changing, amazing, filled with sorrow, moments that are just made up, revelations, moments you want to forget, moments where mountains were moved, times God was there and times it felt like He disappeared?
Do you ever have midnight writings where you just can't go to sleep without writing your thoughts or ideas out?
Is there someone in your family that loves writing or is creative?
Are you surrounded by people who have read your work and still encourage you as your writing is good and tell you to keep going?
When I put my pencil to paper and have little pieces of eraser all around the paper or type and backspace or cut and paste or have crumpled up paper in the recycle bin the above reasons are just enough to keep me within 200-300 words for my homework as to WHY I WRITE.
Friday, May 4, 2012
TINSEL REVELATION
As I hung our children’s home made Christmas ornaments on our freshly cut tree,
stories in the media and Facebook comments blinked in and out of my mind like
our tree lights. Do I truly believe others are taking away my Christmas? Are
they taking away Jesus? Does it matter if my Christmas tree is called a
Christmas tree or holiday tree? People’s anger and negative comments hurt my
heart more, WHY?
It hit me hard one day before Christmas while I worked. As I finished folding a report and slid it into the envelope a mother and her son just finishing their appointment grabbed their coats off the metal coat stand. I wheeled my chair to a clearing where I could see the little boy and mom and said, “You are welcome to grab one little gift off the Christmas tree. There is a company each year that donates gifts for the children.” The mom replied, “We are Jehovah witness and don’t believe in Christmas but thank you so much.” And off they went.
This little boy didn’t take a gift. Christmas is about giving. Giving what? Due to the nature of where I worked what did it mean to that company that EACH child got a gift? Does it matter he didn’t get a gift? To my heart it did matter because to me Christmas is about giving to everyone in all circumstances. Right? That is what Jesus did and last time I checked I am following Him not a tradition of a tree. My heart started pumping excitedly as I walked back to where co-workers were and asked, “Is it ok if I take some of the little gifts and put them in a different pile away from the tree?” I then explained about the little boy. “No the gifts are for the tree, for Christmas and that is their choice they don’t take one,” unfortunately sums up the response I tried to allow to rip through my ears and block from my heart.
So let me ask, as Christians we so badly need our “Christmas” tree and how dare someone tell us not to call it that, are they really taking CHRISTmas? Are we so angry that that little boy couldn’t have been giving a gift just because it was for a special child and he needs to feel loved at a special time for us? The revelation hit! The prickly stump can be called a Holiday tree or a Christmas tree. I could have one or not have one. My house will have Jesus at Christmas; no one can ever take that away, no one. So let them take away the name of the tree I will actually even let them take the tree.
As they pack up my tree I cry as visibly in its place is the cross. A child like moment after where I laugh and say, “Na Na Na boo boo you can take the tree because it doesn’t take Christmas.” Under that cross are gifts that are mine and even the gift to still love those who don’t celebrate Jesus. Picking up the pine needles and tinsel left behind I put the pieces to the cross and pray, “Thank you papa that as people take away our tree you were there, you are there, you will always be there. I see even more now Lord Christmas is not about a tree or worldly traditions. Also Father thanks that now we don’t have to worry about getting rid of a tree. AMEN”
It hit me hard one day before Christmas while I worked. As I finished folding a report and slid it into the envelope a mother and her son just finishing their appointment grabbed their coats off the metal coat stand. I wheeled my chair to a clearing where I could see the little boy and mom and said, “You are welcome to grab one little gift off the Christmas tree. There is a company each year that donates gifts for the children.” The mom replied, “We are Jehovah witness and don’t believe in Christmas but thank you so much.” And off they went.
This little boy didn’t take a gift. Christmas is about giving. Giving what? Due to the nature of where I worked what did it mean to that company that EACH child got a gift? Does it matter he didn’t get a gift? To my heart it did matter because to me Christmas is about giving to everyone in all circumstances. Right? That is what Jesus did and last time I checked I am following Him not a tradition of a tree. My heart started pumping excitedly as I walked back to where co-workers were and asked, “Is it ok if I take some of the little gifts and put them in a different pile away from the tree?” I then explained about the little boy. “No the gifts are for the tree, for Christmas and that is their choice they don’t take one,” unfortunately sums up the response I tried to allow to rip through my ears and block from my heart.
So let me ask, as Christians we so badly need our “Christmas” tree and how dare someone tell us not to call it that, are they really taking CHRISTmas? Are we so angry that that little boy couldn’t have been giving a gift just because it was for a special child and he needs to feel loved at a special time for us? The revelation hit! The prickly stump can be called a Holiday tree or a Christmas tree. I could have one or not have one. My house will have Jesus at Christmas; no one can ever take that away, no one. So let them take away the name of the tree I will actually even let them take the tree.
As they pack up my tree I cry as visibly in its place is the cross. A child like moment after where I laugh and say, “Na Na Na boo boo you can take the tree because it doesn’t take Christmas.” Under that cross are gifts that are mine and even the gift to still love those who don’t celebrate Jesus. Picking up the pine needles and tinsel left behind I put the pieces to the cross and pray, “Thank you papa that as people take away our tree you were there, you are there, you will always be there. I see even more now Lord Christmas is not about a tree or worldly traditions. Also Father thanks that now we don’t have to worry about getting rid of a tree. AMEN”
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