Awareness of the Road, Cancer Awareness Month

To walk the road alone.  The road is paved, others go before me, but a cold wind blows and I pull my thick sweater around my body.  I have a sweater.  I stare into the sky, my mind wandering.  I do not know where I travel and I question where I came from.  The season is early Fall and there are sprinkles of changes.  Oh yes, change will come.  It always has and always will.  The only thing to stay the same is change.

And I have things to do that will not be done and things I’ve done that I should not have bothered with.  It is these moments of great wondering and wonderment that I see it all so clearly.  For in my confusion of meaning, there are those that are all that matter.  They are the ones I love and want and those that will always be because they are part of what makes me me.

Was I what I was made to be?  I ask the one who did make me.  It all came and is going so very quickly down this road that I do not know where it leads, but it leads so ever quickly.  When I started, there was no thought but now it is all that consumes me.  The virtues that are of another world, to what lives on.  Now I see.  Did I love for love or did I serve just me?

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All or Nothing

If you are hungry, gather at the table.  The meal is just out of the oven and it is plentiful.  If you are full, there is no reason to answer to the call.  Jesus Christ has come to heal the sick, to find the lost, to seek and to save.  He calls those that are sinners, those that are hurting, and those in need.  If you do not find yourself lacking, faithless generation, then do not respond when he calls your name.

He watched his son, thrown to the ground and his body sent into convulsions.  There was nothing he could do.  Helpless is the worst place to be.  And to watch your son in pain, there is no greater torture for a parent.  But there was hope, something that was his last resort, he brought his son to the man he heard stories about.

“Jesus, IF you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.”

Jesus turned to the man.  He saw his pain, he saw his hurt, and he did something that is in his nature.  It is who he is.  He loved him.  Jesus is all consuming love.  But he did not stop there, he addressed something beyond physical needs, he addressed the heart, “IF you can!  ALL things are possible for the one who believes.”  Jesus made the heavens that are so vast that all our technology can not even count the stars or the galaxies.  He knows our bodies down to the smallest atom.  He made it all, he controls it all, there is no IF when God is involved.

We all make mistakes!  Each and every one of us.  The only thing that matters is if we learn from them.  And this man did.  He was at a point where Jesus was his only hope.  When Jesus is all you have, you see at last that Jesus is all you need.  The father of the suffering child called out, “I believe; help my unbelief!”

And here I live.  I BELIEVE; HELP MY UNBELIEF!  I want nothing more than Jesus!  HE IS EVERYTHING!  When I lose my life, I find it.  When I give myself, I get all of Jesus in return.  When I abandon my plan, the God of the universe steps in and says, “Watch what I can do!”

Too often I pray for God to speak to me, but what I really want is for him to confirm the comfort of my plans.  Lord, I give it all!  I give you my marriage, it will fall apart without you.  I give you my daughter, you are the perfect parent!  You are all she needs!  I give you my plans, my resources, my health, my very life, I count it all as NOTHING before the throne of your grace and mercy.  And you take me in your loving arms and you give me an inheritance of heaven!

And he is faithful!  THE ONE WHO CALL YOU IS FAITHFUL, HE WILL DO IT!  1 Thessalonians 5:24

If you are not ready for miracles, do not bother to show up.

Dr. Ben Carson for President of the United States of America!

  
I do not care much to meet a movie star on the streets of New York or shake hands with a rockstar at a concert.  No offense or disrespect, just nothing about that inspires me.  Dr. Ben Carson coming to town for a book signing, now that excites me!

My family and I just spent most of the whole day standing outside of a bookstore in order to shake the hand of Dr. Carson and for him to scribble his name across the inside cover of his new book.  Total time in his presence: all of about seven seconds.  I SAID THAT I GOT TO TOUCH THE HAND OF DR. BEN CARSON AND HE WROTE HIS NAME ON MY BOOK!  It was amazing!  My heart was about to beat out of my chest and every star struck nerve in my body was on overload.  The man is my hero!

Please PLEASE please read his books!  I have read his life story, Gifted Hands,One Nation, his amazing book about his personal beliefs about how our country should be governed from a Biblical worldviewand I am currently sucked into his newest book, A More Perfect Union.  

In the last two books mentioned, he states a Bible verse at the beginning of each chapter.  A More Perfect Union is a guide to understanding the Constitution of the United States of America, the duty of each and every American citizen.

I wholeheartedly believe that this leader was raised up by God and is meant to bring our nation back to “One Nation Under God” in which we flourish and are an aide to neighboring countries, a country that we want to leave to our children, a country where we are not entitled to riches but we have the freedom and motivation to work until we see our dreams come true.

Agree with me, disagree with me, but read his words and be inspired from a little boy that was abandoned by his father, grew up in a situation that should have been labeled as another statistic in jail or dead at an early age, see how he lived the true American dream and became a leading pediatric neurosurgeon, author, and presidential candidate.

Not only will I vote for Dr. Ben Carson because I believe he is the better option running, I will vote for Dr. Ben Carson because I believe he has the knowledge and wisdom to save our country from the brink of destruction and return us to prosperity.

I Spoke and I Speak

I wrote and I write and sometimes it is because I do not like to speak, but I spoke. I wanted to shake his freakin shoulders and cry, “YOU MORON!”  But it was my college professor and it would probably not reflect well on my grade. 

This was a long time ago, well, only twelve years ago, but it seems much longer than that…a long time ago, “Things” did not happen as much then, as they do today. And “things” did surprise me then, they don’t much anymore. 

But we are told that we are intolerable, hateful, and racist if we stand up and voice our opinions. Once I was even told that I still believe the world is flat. I am not sure where that came from. (I don’t.) But I am quite sure it was meant to be an insult. 

But here I am talking about the then. And I sat in a large classroom of a credit that was required. Cultural Diversity. The class should have been renamed, “I Hate Christians” because that more closely followed the topic. 

And me, being a Christian, found that rather uncomfortable. I wish I could go back and say what I would want to say now. …But perhaps it is best that I don’t because I do believe that God said what he wanted to say then. 

The professor told us how awful missionaries are and how wonderful every religion is except christianity and how great and good all people are except for christians and how there is no sin and nothing is wrong it is just perspective and the only thing that is wrong is saying something is wrong. And there are no commas because that is how he spoke it. 

And then he thought he had delivered the message and hammered the nail into the coffin of Christianity and he thought we were all indoctrinated and would share in his love of evil, or people that had misconstrued reputations, “Let’s discuss some of the great qualities of Hitler. What are some of the good things he did?”  

My hand shot up because I couldn’t take this bs anymore and I spoke what little truth was ever spoken between those four walls:

“Oh, yes, you…what is something good that Hitler did?”

“HE KILLED HIMSELF!”

And I do believe that in public schools, in colleges and universities, in government buildings, lobbying groups, media, television, and voices shouting out everywhere are yelling, “There is no wrong, except to be a Christian.”

But my hand is shooting up and I do not care anymore if it is uncool to speak up (because I do not care about my cool status anymore) and I do not care if you label me as racist for my thoughts (because Ben Carson has my vote. And I think the whole meaning of that word has been lost.) and I do not care if you shout that I hate science (because I heart it and I have a personal relationship with the Crestor of it all) and say what you want, but this voice, be it one, will stand up in the sea of sitting students and glaring stares and the professor may laugh and scoff at me, but there is God that I answer to, he flows through my veins and he is the beat of my heart. This body is a follower of Jesus. My mouth still speaks and my body still writes and I have a message to share. 

I spoke. I write. 

No Judge Coffee Season

Summer days are gone, with Fall days sneaking in the cooler weather. And now, I carry my coffee with pride. Coffee pride. 

Ya see, I am a year round, day long, coffee drinker. In the heat of the hottest summer days, I am pushing the big cup on my Keurig or running through the drive thru ordering a large black coffee like a true addict.

In the 100 degree summer sun, I try to hide my cup while sweat is beading up on my forehead and I pop some gum to hide my coffee breath. It is a problem. It is real. 

But with the cold wind blowing and long sleeves showing and boots popping up in the general public, I order my tall black with pride and sit and sip while hugging that mug and taking in the warmth of the steam escaping. 

I carry that mug with pride. Cheers to you coffee drinkers. And here is to the season where it is acceptable to be open with my coffee problem, I mean drinking. So, one more black coffee for me at any time of the day. Coffee pride. 

Writers are Readers

  
 I turn in my bed, open my eyes, and lay on my pillow for another minute. There is no beeping alarm and I smile at the thought. (I do not usually smile in the morning). I grab my phone off my night stand and take a quick look at the clock. Just after 8. Fall break is great for sleeping in. 

I stretch open my eyes and pop in my contacts, fill a glass with water and quickly swallow my morning medication. I head straight to one of the most important things in life:  coffee. I grab my extra large homemade coffee mug and sort of smile when I remember that I paid ridiculously too much to paint this mug one day on a play date with my girl and some friends. But the mug says, “Caroline’s Coffee” and I like that.  Fall breaks are the best for drinking coffee. 

The house is quiet. James has already left for work. (He does not get to observe Fall break with us). Conner has already left for college. (My niece lives with us and I love her to pieces!  Her college break is not even as long as my third grader’s). And Madison is still asleep. I will let her sleep just a little bit longer and give myself a little time to read. Fall break is made to have a little extra time to read. 

Over Fall Break, I completed Ben Carson’s “One Nation” (AMAZINGLY INSPIRATIONAL), started “Teresa of Calcutta” by D. Jeanene Watson (wow!  I want to be this woman!), and read a few more chapters of “12 Huge Mistakes Parents Can Avoid” by Tim Elmore.

I am a parent. I make mistakes. I want to avoid mistakes. This is the book for me. My daughter is eight years old. This is a great time to read this book. He says things like “let your kids fail” and my heart has this little battle with Tim and I say, “WHAT?!” And he says “yes” and I scream “no” and he says “It is the best thing for Madison” and I say “ouch!” And grab my heart and I don’t want my little girl to hurt but he walks through the benefits of letting our children fail and learn from their mistakes and what unbeneficial adults our kids will grow up to be if Momma is always coming to the rescue. And I want my daughter to be an aide to society, so I read on. 

I do want what is best for my girl, even if it is hard for me to loosen my grip and let go of one, maybe two fingers.  But as I do this, something absolutely spiritual happens.  Every finger that I release is replaced by one of God’s fingers!

Ya see, I am not throwing my eight year old into the hands of this world. Hell no!  I am releasing her into the hands of loving God, that believe it or not, loves her even more than I do!  He has plans for her, plans to prosper her!

So, this book has helped me with some very practical ways of knowing how to appropriately give an eight year old independence and what are some ways that I can let an eight year old take responsibility and feel some natural consequences and some natural benefits!  

And do you know what, she amazes me!  And when that girl works hard and gets things accomplished and when she is not entitled to sweets and playing and when she earns a trip out to get frozen yogurt with her cousin and a family night of Uno, she loves me all the more for it and I see that, as Tim Elmore says it, that “I am not raising a child. I am raising an adult.”  And Fall Break is the best time to raise my future adult. 

They Find Me

It is Autumn, but the weather promises the winter cold. Gray skies drizzle endlessly. All consuming to my bones, the weather mirrors my heart. 

There are things. There are things in my past. They are hidden in the “everyone makes mistakes” and “you are a good person” comforts where I seek to be consoled. 

I have betrayed, lied, hated, and turned my back on need. Perhaps it is just my humanity, but sometimes the rain pours and the bitter wind can not be shut out by all the coats and blankets in the world. 

I know. I do know the freedom of forgiveness. I have lived the peace that can be found. But I know deeply, perhaps more deeply than others, the reason for a Savior.