Thanksgiving 2013

Thanksgiving Day. I slept in. I am enjoying a few hours alone in my pjs and with my coffee and two purring kitties before heading over to my parents. I like this yearly ritual.
Though I should do it every day, and often fail, on Thanksgiving God gets my first moments.

I didn’t participate in the 30 Days of Thanks thing on Facebook. I have enjoyed reading posts from others, but I didn’t want it to get rote, routine, or disingenuous for me. Also, I like to take this time on Thanksgiving morning to make my big list of what I am thankful for.

So for my faithful readers, this may get a little boring for you, as the first part of my list will be a “duh” – and just like everyone else’s list. Oh wait – this is Raquel talking – nothing she says is like anyone else. LOL But seriously, I am doing this more for me than for my readers. However, if you do decide to read my saga of thanks – I hope it balances out the numerous times I whine and complain when life doesn’t go my way.

I have decided to divide my list into two parts: the obvious and the not so obvious.

The Obvious

Obviously, He tops the list. I am beyond thankful for Jesus and my relationship with Him. This year, that thankfulness for Him has an even deeper meaning. Yesterday, I was listening to Christmas music and Amy Grant’s song “Heirlooms” came on. For a brief moment, it made me sad. Jesus was not an “heirloom” in my family. My ancestors were steeped in religion, but none of them knew Jesus. The enemy has a big success record with my family - using his most deceitful tool of religion to blind them and keep them from seeing Jesus. Beyond that, my extended family isn’t even close. We never have get togethers – not even for funerals. Oh but I couldn’t dwell on that for long. The Lord rushed in to rescue me from my downward spiraling thoughts and I thought about this in a way I never have before. If I were to go on ancestry.com and trace my Russian roots and then make their cute little family tree down to me - I am the first one to have a relationship with Christ! What is awesome about this is that I had nothing to do with it. In 1988, I was not seeking Jesus. He sought me. He reached His giant holy hands into the sin and filth of McKees Rocks and my broken, sin-stained family and picked me up and began our relationship. It’s not cliché when I say – He loved me first. My parents now have a relationship with Jesus too – and the three of us will remain in prayer for the rest – that the blinders will be removed from their eyes and they can see Jesus and His love for them. Not religion, not church – only Jesus.

Jesus. Oh that name. I am thankful for His unending patience and longsuffering with me. I cannot understand why He loves me and why He remains faithful – but I am grateful that He does. It’s been 25 years since my relationship with Him began and the sanctification process has been so ridiculously slow and painful – for both of us. Why He doesn’t give up is beyond me. But as the song says: “His love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me.”
As I think about my relationship with Christ, I am thankful for my spiritual heritage. Wait – didn’t I just say I didn’t have one? Am I confusing you? Well you know some people say that blood is thicker than water. (not always true by the way) But I always say that the blood of Christ is thicker than both. Though my spiritual heritage did not come from my blood relatives, it came from my blood bought relatives – the church.
When I stepped into Abundant Life Church in 1988, I was amazed at the genuine love the people showed me. They never tried to “convert” me. They just loved me. And trust me, I was not easy to love. Believe it or not, I was a million times worse than I am now. North Way owes them a debt of gratitude – they did all the hard work. I will never forget that first month. I watched Pastor Susan lead worship and then I talked with her afterwards. She didn’t tell me about Jesus. She showed me Jesus. I saw Him in her. I saw contentment in her and I couldn’t understand how she got it – I wanted what she had. She only told me about the Lord when I asked her to.

After I accepted Christ as my personal Savior on July 30, 1988, so many people began pouring into my life. On Wednesday evenings after church, the youth group would hang out on the street outside the church – just being normal teenagers. Shocker – I wasn’t normal. I stayed inside and sat and talked with Earl Wheeler. He patiently allowed me to be like that pesky little puppy that never went away. During the next five years, I had many mentors and supporters as I wrestled between my new life in Christ and my sinful life of the McKees Rocks bottoms that didn’t want to surrender without a fight. I am so thankful for George and Pat, Earl and Irene, Angela and Gary, Lucy, Fran, Brigid, Suzanne, Walt, Karen and a long list of others that never gave up on me. I am beyond thankful for all the Biblical instruction I received. Not only in Bible class in Abundant Life Academy, but in church and the various classes and instructional meetings – I was given a rich, firm foundation. I was baptized in 1989, but not before sitting in several classes until my pastor KNEW that I understood Biblically what I was doing. I can still hear Pastor Susan as she dunked me – “Raquel Marie Branchik I baptize you in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, rise and walk in newness of life!” Throughout my teens and early twenties, I was steeped in Biblical instruction. I understand worship – both individual and corporate. I understand spiritual warfare. And yes, I understand grace – as I am the recipient of boatloads of it – from both God and people.

Onto the rest of the obvious list…

I am thankful for my parents. My mom was (and is) the best mom in the world. She had more problems and tragedies in her life when I was young, but she shielded me from them all – I never knew until I was an adult. She was and is my rock. Always there. Unconditional love. I have scores of precious memories from little things she has done – that were actually huge things for me. From my homemade birthday cake with coconut and jelly beans, to a new Strawberry Shortcake doll with every good report card. As I got older, she let me be me – even when my decisions hurt her. She knew I had to learn on my own – but she was and is – always there.
My step dad – when he entered my world at age 9 – I hated him. In my young eyes, he took my mom away. But in reality, he welcomed me and then my sister Shannon as his own – though we were not his blood. When my youngest sister came, he simply had three daughters – not one daughter and two steps. I didn’t always listen to him – I still don’t. But two things he taught me that I will never let go of – respect is not commanded, it is earned. And what is good for the goose is good for the gander. I can unpack those in another blog if need be.

My sisters – I am 10 years older than Shannon and 14 years older than Krystal. I was surrogate mom growing up – but now we learn to respect each other as adults.

My friends – I simply cannot express enough gratitude for the amazing friends God has blessed me with. And you know its funny, I get teased often because my closest friends are older than I am. My best friend is my youngest friend – and she is 9 years my senior. Some goof balls even tried to tell me that I am trying to replace my mom. BULL CRAP. First of all, my mom is irreplaceable. Secondly - she is still here! (people kill me)
But I have been blessed with the ability to find awesome people and secure friendships with them. I have seen the truth of “bad company corrupts good character”. I have watched loved ones be hurt time and time again by their “friends”. Proverbs 13:20 says he who walks with the wise, grows wise, but a companion of fools suffers harm. I have watched folks suffer much harm by being a companion of a fool. (The Bible’s definition of a fool is one who lives like there is no God). I have been privileged to walk with the wise. I have many good friends at North Way. Many have blessed me beyond words. My core four – Denise, Kathy, Gail, Susan - they protect me from myself and love me in spite of myself. I am a better person each time I spend time with one of them.

And speaking of North Way – I love my church. I always say that if I can’t be in heaven, North Way is the next best thing. I may have mild disagreements with policies or procedures sometimes, but that would be the case anywhere. I am thankful for my church – for who they are and what they do.

My pastors. They are rock stars. Jay, Scott, Kent, Doug, Bryan, John, Freedom, Darren, John, Randy, Scott, Rob – and I can’t wait until the day I can add… Dennis. I love the way God has uniquely gifted all of them to shepherd this large flock. I have been blessed by all of them in different ways. And no, I am not just saying that because it sounds nice. I can list the ways each has blessed me – but not in this blog, it’s long enough already.

My job. When I think of all the fast food places I have worked, and all the waitress jobs I have held, not to mention two grocery stores, LensCrafters, a construction company, and Yellow Cab of Pittsburgh, it blows my mind that I have been blessed with such a good job. I was grateful when I began sitting in an office and a cube. Now, I mostly sit at home – comfortable – making more money than ever before with nothing more than a high school diploma. I’m doing things I “can’t” do – functioning beyond my skill level. But I am still there because God wants me there. And I think the main reason God brought me to FIS was not the good pay or even the work from home and flex time privilege. I believe He brought me there to meet my boss. Kelly is what every manager should be. If the big wigs at FIS were smart, they would cut cost on their “leadership trainings” and just have everyone spend a week with Kelly. Their test would be – “be like her or get out”. Well – that’s a glimpse of Raquel’s utopian world. But seriously, she is the reason I stay, the reason I don’t give up. And she also has two awesomely adorable, fantastic, well behaved kids – just a picture of them can cheer me up on a bad day. And if folks would watch the way she and her husband work as a team, they would be flying them in to lead marriage seminars – and then I could play with the kids!

The children in my life – Rashawnda (really not a child anymore) and my two Compassion sponsored girls – they bless me more than I bless them.

Material stuff: my apartment, the vacant apartment downstairs, my bed, my cats, COFFEE, food, music, my car, my mug collection.

This ends the list of the obvious things I am thankful for. Yep, typical Raquel. Took four pages to say God, family, friends, church, provision.

But now for the list of not so obvious things I am thankful for – even if I have to remind myself to be thankful for them:

I am thankful that sometimes God says no. Many times have I begged and pleaded for Him to give me something or do something – only to find out later I am soooooo glad He didn’t give me what I wanted. He continues to teach me to trust Him – and that He really does know what is best for me.

I am thankful for this new season He has me in. Truth be told, I hate it – but yes, I am still thankful. I hate it because it’s totally opposite of the direction I want to go. My life is primarily work and school. I have missed so much of the things that I feel make me who I am. I have missed Bible studies, small groups, church services, the LAMP Leadership team, time with friends… all to pursue what appears to be meaningless, secular pursuits that will not matter at all in eternity. When I stand before God – He will not ask me about the spreadsheets I did. So why pull me away from the things that have eternal value? I answered that question earlier in this paragraph. The things that make me who I am??? If my identity is found in the ministries I participate in – Lord help me.
I think that is why He temporarily took them away. Those things are my comfort zone – where I am in my element, but if I start to find my identity in them – time to lose them. In the world of corporate America and Academia, I am a foreigner, a stranger definitely out of my element. But with all my usual comforts stripped away, I find Jesus walking with me through that foreign environment, and I find my identity solely in Him – I’m a child of the King. And…. He is teaching me to worship Him through these seemingly secular things. I am learning to stay in close communication with Him – without the crutch of the church or ministries.

This last thing will encompass many things – but I am thankful for pain and suffering. No, I haven’t started drinking yet. No one likes pain and suffering. I am queen of comfort – almost every decision I make is based around comfort. I wear comfortable clothes – whether they look good or not. I drive the car I drive because its comfortable. I work really hard to regulate the temperature – I have a small window of comfort, where its not too hot or too cold. I eat for comfort, talk for comfort, listen to music for comfort. Whether a day is good or bad depends on how comfortable I am with the circumstances of that day. Do I sound like a spoiled brat? I am.

But more and more God is showing me how He uses pain and suffering as a tool. The funny thing – I haven’t really suffered. My life has been sheltered and blessed. I mean, everyone has stuff they deal with…

Recently, a sharp knife of pain has been felt by a book I chose to read. Kimberly Smith was the keynote speaker at our Orphan Care Expo and last night I finished her book – Passport through Darkness. It was true to its title. Page 2 had me crying. Chapter 19 literally caused me to have nightmares – literally I woke up with the sheets pulled off the bed. Last night, the final two chapters were worse than I ever could have imagined. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even form words to explain it. I was in shock. I won’t go into detail…

But on the last two pages, Kimberly was asked by folks at a church she was speaking to how she could forgive the men, the people who committed these horrific, unspeakable, evil acts to children and to her. Her response was that it was easy to forgive the evil people. She said they were born into evil and knew nothing else. She said what is harder to forgive is the pampered, secure, comfortable, safe American Christians who seek to keep their blissful ignorance. They would rather choose to not know, choose to not hear, choose to not see, and definitely choose to not act. They just don’t want to think about anything that makes them sad. Because they can’t fix the entire situation, they choose to do nothing instead of whatever they can.

I don’t type this to be a downer on a happy day. I type it because I am that American Christian. I say I want to do ministries and help people – but am I willing to experience even a tiny fraction of what Kimberly did – to help one person? Am I willing to put myself in danger – like Jesus would do – to rescue one individual? Or would I rather head on over to Carlow University after stopping at Starbucks for my venti sugar free hazelnut soy latte? I don’t like to suffer. Heck, I don’t like discomfort. But sometimes pain and suffering are what it takes to align our priorities with His. The Bible says Jesus learned obedience from what He suffered. (Hebrews 5:8) If Jesus Himself had to suffer, how much more will we sinful humans need to suffer to bring about change – in ourselves and others. For Kimberly, her pain cleansed her of apathy and indifference. For me, my meager suffering helps me to focus on Him and align with His priorities and objectives. Pain has a purpose. Doesn’t make it any less painful – just purposeful.
So I am thankful for the pain and suffering. Lord, help me to suffer well – like you did.

Oh my. It’s 1pm and I am still in my pajamas. Time to shower and dress and head over to my family. Krystal will not be joining us today. But Shannon is cooking and I cleaning – and I am thankful for my wonderfully blessed life.

Distraction

A good place to start would be with some Francesca Battistelli:


This is the stuff that drives me crazy
This is the stuff that’s getting to me lately
In the middle of my little mess
I forget how big I’m blessed
This is the stuff that gets under my skin
But I gotta trust You know exactly what You’re doin
Might not be what I would choose
But this is the stuff You use


It’s amazing the little things I struggle with. For some crazy reason, I seem to do better with battling the big stuff. Two week ago, I attended North Way’s Orphan Care Expo. I love that event, but it never loves me back. It is always a spiritual battle for me. I volunteer to host a table for Compassion, it rarely brings good results. This year only one was sponsored. But to me, even one child makes it all worth it. This year the battle was intensified. When I located my table, I found out I was surrounded. To my right was Bethany Christian Services, the people who facilitated my failed adoption. (To be clear, I am not blaming them – I just feel like I failure when I see them). In front of me was Gwen’s Girls. They are the non-profit who was hiring a staff accountant but would not interview me due to my lack of a bachelors degree. That would have been my dream job – accounting and ministering to inner city girls at the same time. But obviously, it wasn’t God’s dream for me. To ice the cake, the table to my left was Glade Run. That is the place where I met and fell in love with a child I was going to adopt. After 3 hours in a conference room with her and case workers and social workers, we were set to begin paper work for me to bring her home – and they happen to casually mention that she was severely allergic to cats. At the time, I did not have cats but my mother did and my mom was the after school caregiver. I never forgot that girl. She is still listed on the PA kids website so she was never adopted.

The Expo in general always leaves me feeling excited about what God is doing through people, but it also leaves me sad – when I see what all those folks are doing and I realize that what I am doing is spreadsheets. But I said all that to say this – I battled all those emotions at the Orphan Care Expo – and with God’s help – I won the battle. I rested in the fact that I know I am where God wants me right now. I surrender that onslaught of emotion to Him and He gave me a peace that only He can give.

SO ONE WOULD THINK…. that a little thing like I have face this week would be easy.
But no, silly me, it had me gloomy and in tears. School. School has been hard in many ways. Each time I go to Carlow, I regret not going after high school. I regret not going when my studies could have been my first priority, when I could have gotten involved in school activities, and when I could have studied abroad for a semester. But I have learned not to wallow in regret.

Obviously, the work load itself is difficult. The Business Management class I had beat me – it really beat me. It’s only the grace of God that I squeaked out with a B.

But the issue this week has me struggling more than the regret and the workload. The reason I chose Carlow was because they were the only school with Saturday classes and an adult accelerated program – where you attend one evening per week, but each class is half a semester. So I am getting three classes in the time I would only get one or two at another college. However, the purpose is about to be defeated. I am paying my astronomical tuition with federal loans. The federal government does not loan me enough to take three classes each semester. I registered for three classes for the upcoming spring semester, but my aid is $2,500 short. I attempted to get private loans from Sallie Mae and Wells Fargo, but I needed a co-signer and no one in my family was an eligible co-signer. My last resort was to try Carlow’s payment plan. Well – Carlow’s payment plan is unreasonable. They basically divide your balance by 5 (the months in a semester). Um – I don’t have a spare $500 a month – that’s like rent or a car payment.
So I began to seek direction and try to decide what to do. I was really looking forward to the classes I am registered for – because if I completed them, I would be a sophomore come Fall 2014. So, I considered getting a second job and working on the weekends and possibly one evening per week to raise the $500 a month. I was hesitant only because I was unsure how I would get the homework done if I did that. But, before I could make a decision, it was made for me. In order to go on Carlow’s payment plan, I would have to pay the first installment by December 16th. Even if I found a second job this weekend, that would not be doable. So I have no choice but to drop classes and only take two in the Spring and none in the Summer.

What angers me is that every other student (adult students) in my class, get more than enough aid to cover their tuition. It’s not because I earn more money. They get more aid because they are single moms. My accounting professor (a part time professor at Carlow) works in the financial aid office at a small college in West Virginia. He told my class that some of his students get so much aid that they get money refunded to them and they buy smart phones and cars with their excess aid. He has actually had students ask him to rush their refund so they can get a car. He recently had a meeting with a student who received $5,000 in “extra aid” that was given to her in a check – because she is 19 and has four kids. It infuriates me because I am not looking for a hand out. I don’t want the government to buy me a smartphone. All I want is a loan for the amount of my tuition. But I feel like I am being punished because I didn’t have an illegitimate child.

This unchecked anger lead to misery. I thought of all I have missed and sacrificed to go to school. I didn’t do the Beth Moore Women’s Bible study last Spring, when they studied Revelation. I dropped out of the LAMP Leadership team. I am missing all the LAMP mentors meetings because they are always held when I am in class. And now next week, I will miss one of the best services of the year – the Thanksgiving All Worship Night – because I have to be in class giving a speech.

So as I drove to class tonight, I was sad and in tears. So much time, work and sacrifice and I have to drop two classes… Well, before you all start playing your violins, hold one for one more moment…

I caught myself way too far down in the downward spiral and I started to pray – something I should have done hours before. While praying, I remembered that I hadn’t read Jesus Calling yet for today. I have it on my phone so I hit the app. I didn’t need to read it – just the title alone was Jesus speaking to me. The title for today was: Leave the Outcomes to Me.

My tears of frustration turned into happy tears on my now smiling face. No matter how many times He has spoken to me in the 25 years of our relationship, the fact that the All Knowing, All Powerful Creator and King of the universe speaks directly into the mundane, miniscule, puny happenings of my life just blows my mind. It awes me each and every time. I started to thank Him – just for speaking to me. I didn’t care that He wasn’t miraculously providing $2,500 for me to keep my classes. I was just thrilled that He was speaking to me.

There are many, many times where I feel like Jesus says to me “Raquel, really?” This was not one of them. He was patient and kind and willing to calm His child – His child that was taking a temper tantrum because she did not get her way.

I thought back to that Orphan Care Expo. I got a copy of the book Passport Through Darkness that the keynote speaker authored. The title explains the book. That woman has seen and gone through unspeakable, horrific, evil things. Page 2 of the book was gut-wrenching and I am almost done with it. I said “Lord, my life has not seen or experienced anything near that horrible. I have not known suffering at all. I have been a comforted, cushioned, sheltered, spoiled little baby compared to what Kim and the Sudanese people have gone through. How could I let myself get so upset over college classes?”

The Lord showed me two things. First, the impeccable timing of my church’s new sermon series. The sermon is dealing with the enemy and the tools that he uses to keep us from a close relationship with the Lord and from walking in the abundant life we are promised. The four tools are Deception, Doubt, Distraction, and Discouragement. I have learned to recognize the first two, but oh, that distraction gets me each and every time. I get distracted by life and I lose focus, and then comes discouragement.

I hesitated to just blame the enemy for my own stupidity. I mean, I should be smart enough to not sweat the small stuff. The Lord showed me that the enemy is great at using life events to distract us, but its our choice to stay focused on circumstances. The enemy doesn’t have a hard job. He yells “hey – look over here” and we divert our attention. The enemy has done moved on and we are still fixated on our problem.

The second thing the Lord showed me was from that book – Passport Through Darkness. When I first started reading the book, I almost chastised myself for even reading it. I mean, all it would do is make me sad, right? I would cry over the horrible things that she mentioned, and then I would get sad because God isn’t calling me to Sudan, He is calling me to a cube in corporate America (where I see enough evil in the form of damaged families).

But God had a purpose for me reading the book and it wasn’t to make me sad. It was to learn the lesson that Kim learned, without going through the suffering that Kim went through. Kim speaks not only of the evil she has seen in Sudan – I will spare you the horrific details – but she also speaks of how hard it was for her being thirsty and having no water, hungry and having no food. She ached from head to toe, incurred many physicals wounds while there, went days without sleeping or bathing. One particular story she tells is when she rode on the back of a motorcycle for five straight hours. Holding on to the shoulders of the driver, she had to beat wild dogs with sticks and was cut by brush and tree branches. Her back was in so much pain she thought she would pass out. Eventually, she flipped out on the driver for not taking a break and she yelled at him and explained all her physical ailments – as if the driver wasn’t experiencing the same thing. It was then she realized her sin. Her sin was a sense of entitlement. She felt entitled to safety, to comfort, to pain free living. She felt entitled to drink when thirsty and eat when hungry. She felt entitled to bath with clean water every day and sleep when tired. And she felt entitled to shield herself from horrors of evil happening in the world around her. She had forgotten that every good thing she has in her life is a gift from God. She is entitled to nothing. God never promises a life of comfort and safety. In fact, His Word tells us the opposite.

My story is not that extreme. But I do have a gross sense of entitlement. I am entitled to enroll in as many classes as I want. I am entitled to my degree in MY timeframe. I am entitled to go out to eat and to get gingerbread lattes at Starbucks and still have enough money for textbooks….

God my selfishness makes me sick. Forgive me. You have blessed me so much more than I deserve. I couldn’t go to school at all if it weren’t for the flexibility that my boss and my job offer to me. I have only a high school diploma, and yet I have a great job that enables me to work from home. I have my own place and my own car and family and friends who love me. Most importantly, I have an intimate, personal relationship with Jesus, who took my place and died my death on that cross so that we could be in relationship. I may never step foot on foreign soil for ministry or education, but I can step foot in the Holy of Holies in worship any time I want – and I don’t even have to be at North Way on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving.

I began this blog with a song – to show how I was feeling. And I will end it with a song – to show how I am feeling.

Who taught the sun
Where to stand in the morning
Who taught the ocean
You can only come this far
And who showed the moon
Where to hide till evening
Whose words alone can
Catch a falling star

Yeah
The very same God
That spins things in orbit
Runs to the weary
The worn and the weak
And the same gentle hands
That hold me when I'm broken
They conquer death to bring me victory

Well I know
My redeemer lives
I know my Redeemer lives
All of creation testifies
There's life within the Christ
I know my Redeemer lives

Letter from a Little Boy

I am just amazed at what God will do to get my attention. I am also amazed at how quickly I can lose my attention and focus on Him.

Today had almost gotten by as uneventful. I got up, spent some time with the Lord, enjoyed three cups of hazelnut coffee, and went to work. After work, I spent some time on the balcony doing some homework. It was a little after 6 when I remembered that I wanted to make sure I am recording the shows I will miss during my three day business trip this week.

So I came in the house and turned on the television. The news was on but I hit the DVR button to review my recordings. So I couldn’t see the news. Unfortunately, I heard it. I never watch the news and tonight was an example of why I don’t.

What frustrated me was not the negativity. What infuriated me was that the newscasters, as well as most listeners, missed the point. They focus on the symptoms of the problem, not the cause. It’s like broadcasting about coughing and sneezing but ignoring the cold virus.

The story was about a shooting in Homewood. Yes, another one. There seems to be one every day. That is how it was broadcast – another shooting. When folks hear it that is what they will hear – another shooting. Want to know what I heard? This is what I heard….

“The shooting happened between 2 and 3 am at a club. One of the victims was a 21 year old mother of three”. STOP! Hold the phone. A 21 year old mother of three???? The children were not triplets. This was a woman who wanted to mess around and was not smart enough or selfless enough to pop a pill. My heart broke thinking about her innocent children. My blood pressure rose at her selfishness. But it doesn’t end there. This 21 year old mother of three was not home with her children at 2 am. She was in a club. This is when I look up and ask “how long will you let this stuff go on”.

Then, still on the same story, they show various people talking about how the gun violence is weakening the community. They are correct – it is. The community is known for its gun violence – despite the FACT that there are more good people living there than criminals. But again – the newscasters missed something – and so do most listeners.
The shooting happened at a club. Last week, it happened at a bar. People are on the news crying about what the violence is doing to their community. Hello – put the bars and clubs out of business! Gun violence or no, nothing good is happening at a bar or club at 2 am.

At this point I shut off the television. But by now my thoughts were focused on how bad the world is. I started to talk to God and thank Him for His mercy. I honestly don’t know how He can look at this stuff (and much worse) every day and not smite us all.

And then….

I remembered that I hadn’t gone downstairs to get the mail. So I went. In a pile of bills and other junk I saw a familiar envelope that made me smile. The envelope said Compassion – a message from your sponsored child. Each time I see that envelope I get excited - curious to see which of the four kids it is from. (I only sponsor two, but I assist Compassion in being a “correspondent” – writing to children whose sponsors will not write to them).

This letter was from one of my correspondent children, a ten year old boy in Tanzania. His letter was typical. He said he like to play sports with his friends and he drew a picture for me. But his last sentence surprised me. It momentarily took my breath away. In a previous letter, I had asked him if he had a favorite Bible verse. So in this letter, his last sentence to me was “my favorite verse is John 1:1”. The hair on my arms stood up. This boy is 10!!!! I have seen scores of adults read that verse and respond with a “huh?”

Moments earlier I was staring at the depravity of man on the television. God used a little ten year old boy to encourage me. His letter made my day. It also helped me to refocus and put the news in perspective. In the beginning… God. And guess what? In the end… God. He is the beginning and the end and whatever happens in the middle is His to take care of.

So yes, there was a 21 year old mother of three who got shot at a club in Homewood. But there is also a ten year old boy in Tanzania whose favorite Bible verse is John 1:1. And you know what, I bet there are more stories of boys like him – stories that will never make the news.

I ended the evening watching the Dove Awards. Another Scripture was shared on the show. I John 4:4…

You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.

I am so grateful that God will use anything to get my attention. I am thankful that He lifts me up and encourages me, even when I don’t think to ask Him to do so. And I am extremely glad that He is the beginning and the end – and the Lord of everything in between.

The Enemy

I’m about to tell you an insanely wild story. A true story. Bear with me through the crazy details and the spiritual lessons will follow.

In May of this year I moved to Bellevue. I found an inexpensive one bedroom with enough storage for all my stuff. The building is an old duplex converted into four apartments – two bottom two top.

The landlord told me when I viewed the second floor apartment that the old hardwood floors intensify noise for the first floor tenants. It is actually in my lease than I am not permitted to walk in my apartment with hard soled shoes on. And boy, this man was not kidding when he said noise was intensified. My apartment is on the second floor and the laundry is in the basement. I have been in the basement and have heard my cell phone ding with a text message – while it was sitting on my dining room table.

This being said, I have always tried to be extra considerate of the lady beneath me. To make matters more complicated, she is a nurse and works all kinds of crazy schedules. I try to walk softly, I wait until she isn’t home to vacuum, I try to warn guests to not walk heavily or talk loudly. But there are two things I cannot control – my cats. My cats chase each other – mostly in the middle of the night. Mason is 15lbs. Rebecca is only 7 lbs but she can get very fast and hyper. I am sure the noise bothers my neighbor. Sometimes, it wakes me up and bothers me. I have done everything I can think of to lessen the noise for her. I have tried locking them in the bedroom with me. This makes then even more wound up. They chase each other in circles, knock things off my dresser and tear up the carpet – which makes more noise. I have tried locking one in the bedroom and one out. Well for one thing, I only have one litter box, but for another thing, whichever cat is outside the bedroom throws itself against the door – making noise. I talked to Animal Friends as well as my veterinarian and they both said the same thing – you can’t stop cats from being cats. It is just what they do.

Several weeks ago, my neighbor began banging on the ceiling when the cats would do this. I would get up and try to stop them, but each time I lay back down it would start again. This Saturday morning, at 4 am, she is banging away and began SCREAMING at me. I was up from 4 am trying to keep cats apart. Around 6 am, my doorbell rings – and it’s the cops. They came and talked to me and I am crying like a 5 year old. She told them my cats sound like German Shepherds. Maybe with these old creaky wood floors they do.

Fast forward to Monday morning. My alarm goes off at 5 am. I laid in bed until 5:20. I saw my smaller cat on the floor in the bedroom, didn’t know where the big one was. At 5:20 I stood up and literally all I did was turn around in the exact same spot to make my bed. She began banging. I was still half asleep and confused and wondered if Mason was making noise in the other room. But I heard nothing so I continued making my bed. She continued banging and screaming. Then I walked (barefoot) into my kitchen and refilled the cats water dish. More banging, more screaming. I walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth…. She is banging and yelling obscenities. I have no idea what noise I am making besides running water. At that point, I called the cops. Cops talked to me and said this was the landlord’s problem. All I wanted was for her to stop banging. As soon as the cops left, she was banging again – and I was in shower!

What is even crazier than this story is my reaction. I was rattled. I don’t mean an irritated, annoyed, angered rattled – that would have been typical. I was rattled like an anxiety attack. I had a rapid heartbeat, I felt weak and nauseous, and I was shaking. Why? I have no clue. You know how they say that responses are either fight, flight, or freeze? Raquel usually only knows one of those. For some reason, this one has me in freeze.

Ok. That’s the physical story. Here is the spiritual one. I was supposed to work from home on Monday, but I was so rattled I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate, so I drove into the office. At some point during the morning, I read my Jesus Calling devotional. In this case, Jesus really was calling. The devotional for October 14th reads:

Be prepared to suffer for Me, in My Name. All suffering has meaning in My kingdom. Pain and problems are opportunities to demonstrate your trust in Me. Bearing your circumstances bravely – even thanking Me for them – is one of the highest forms of praise. This sacrifice of thanksgiving rings golden-toned bells of joy throughout heavenly realms. On earth also, your patient suffering sends out ripples of good tidings in ever-widening circles. When suffering strikes, remember that I am sovereign and that I can bring good out of everything. Do not try to run from pain or hide from problems. Instead, accept adversity in My Name, offering it up to Me for my purposes. Thus, your suffering gains meaning and draws you closer to Me. Joy emerges from the ashes of adversity through your trust and thankfulness.

This was an encouragement and a challenge. It was an encouragement because even after being in a relationship with Jesus for 25 years, it always thrills me when He speaks to me. It was a challenge because I was running from pain and hiding from problems. When I have to enter or exit my home while she is home, I get a knot in my stomach and try to gauge if I should use the front or back door. On Sunday, she was not home and I put a load of laundry in. It was in the dryer when she came home and I was afraid to go into the basement and get it – for fear of running into her. Not that she can hurt me or do anything to me. I just didn’t want the grief, the conflict. But through this devotional, the Lord told me to bear the circumstances bravely. So I will try.

Around lunchtime, I remembered the sermon from Sunday. Specifically, I recalled Pastor Scott talking about Joseph and asking that five second question. He mentioned that Joseph had suffered for half of his earthly life, but for the past 4,000 years he has enjoyed perfection in eternity with the Lord. That encouraged me and I was able to get through the rest of the day.

So I had asked the Lord to show me what He was trying to teach me through this – and I thought it was a lesson on suffering. Ok. Cool. I realized that I have been blessed. I have never had an “enemy” that I did not play a part in making. God knows my heart and He knows in this situation, my heart is pure. So ok – a lesson on suffering and praying for your enemies – got it.

Oh, but I missed it. Everything I mentioned above is true. But I was missing something and it wasn’t until I was laying on my couch last night did it hit me. The other part of Pastor Scott’s sermon. He said that justification and adoption are instant – they happen the moment we accept Christ, sanctification – the process of becoming more like Christ – is just that, a process. A lifelong process. But after he said that he reminded us that we have an enemy. And that enemy does not want us to become more like Christ. I Peter 5:8 says that our enemy is like a lion prowling around looking for someone to devour. When Pastor Scott said that on Sunday, it was a good reminder. And when I heard it, I was determined. I thought to myself that I should wake up every morning and instead of thinking about the days tasks, I should seek to spend time with Jesus because that is how we become more Christ like. I also thought that I should wake up each morning and remember that I have an enemy who wants to stop that sanctification process. So when I went to bed on Sunday, I was fiercely determined to wake up early enough to seek the Lord. I just knew the enemy was not going to pull one over on me this time. God had prepared me through Scott’s message. I heard it – and was ready to act on it….

Until an irate neighbor banged on her ceiling and called me obscenities. When I put my feet on the floor and stood up and she banged and yelled, I actually thought to myself “she is upset because I woke up and put my feet on the floor?” It was 9pm that night when it dawned on me… my enemy’s name is not Aileen. And my enemy was upset that I woke up and put my feet on the floor. And unfortunately, yesterday I didn’t recognize it and I lost my time with the Lord.

I am so thankful, then when I neglected to reach out to the Lord, He reached out to me with that devotional. Last night I felt a little embarrassed. My friend Ann Marie is in heaven with Jesus, but I heard her voice say what she used to say to me during my Bible College years – “the devil did a dance on your head, and you let him.” Sorry Lord. Its ok… His mercies are new every morning.

The evening ended with a smile. Still laying on the couch, I felt I should pray for my neighbor and this situation. But I was unsure how to pray. Well God gave us a gift for those moments and I began to utilize it. In the middle of my prayer my phone dinged. I didn’t look at it right away (yes, really) but when I did – it was a Facebook comment from my friend Pat. She mentioned that she and her husband had a bad neighbor once – and her husband would pray in the Spirit – and God took care of it. My friend posted that comment in the middle of me doing just that. 

Remember the Sabbath Day

Life is busy, sometimes chaotic. Lately, I have felt like my to-do list is playing a trick on me. The more I do, the more there is to do. This weekend was especially busy. Had class on Saturday morning. I was supposed to make an appearance at the quarterly LAMP Mentors meeting, but since I missed most of it due to class, I just decided to miss all of it. Had to stop at my mothers, do some shopping, do household chores… Most importantly, I needed to study for my Business Management final exam coming up this Tuesday. I did poorly on the mid term and my overall grade hangs on this final exam.

For some strange reason, I also felt like I need to go to work. It was not mandatory, but recent changes at my job have left me feeling out of control. It is probably just that – a feeling – not indicative of reality, but nonetheless, I was hoping to spend some time doing work stuff this weekend.

This morning when I woke up, my mind was racing before my feet touched the floor. Nothing was really “wrong”. I wasn’t even stressed out. I just had a lot going on and I wasn’t sure what to do first. For a fleeting second, I thought about skipping church to get my to-do list done. I am sure glad that idiotic thought did not linger long.

I got to church about ten minutes early. I sat down and tried to focus on the Lord and prepare my heart to worship. Easier said than done. My mind kept going from work to school to housework to my Bible study to my mentee to my sponsored children… I asked the Lord to help me focus. Worship began and during the first two songs my mind wandered so many times and I had to pull it back. Focusing got easier during the third song. The song itself made it easy: “Holy Spirit you are welcomed here. Flood this place and fill the atmosphere. Your Glory God is what our hearts long for…” I love when worship is also a prayer. And that truly was my prayer. I am amazed at how easily my mind gets wrapped up in life’s tasks and I lose focus on Who is really important.

Well, the Holy Spirit knew what I needed. After the third song, Adam sat us down and told the congregation that sometimes we come in with so much baggage and our minds are filled with everything going on in our lives. He said they were going to sing a song over us while we sat. We could sing along if we wanted but the goal was to quiet ourselves and set our minds on the Lord.

It worked. As soon as the worship team said the first line of the song: “Lord, you’re beautiful. Your face is all I seek…” I felt myself relax and truly commune with the Lord… evidenced by a few tears slipping down my face. As I sat in His presence and focused on Jesus, I felt myself get put back on center again. I had felt so scattered, and now I was grounded once more. Then we transitioned into the song “Great I Am” and if anyone has trouble worshipping during that song – well – you are just spiritually dead as a doornail. Each time I hear that song, even in my car, I feel like I am standing at the entrance to His throne in heaven. Phew.

After worship, I thoroughly enjoyed the message. It doesn’t happen often but he made me want to go back and study the portion of Scripture he used.
After church, I went to breakfast with my friends like I usually do. We had a great time – or should I say I had a great time – I can’t speak for them. LOL. But I had a wonderful conversation and left laughing – in fact, it took awhile before I stopped laughing.

By now you are probably wondering why I am telling you every detail of my day. I’m getting there… when I got home I felt great. I still had my to-do list and I was still unsure of what to do first. But I poured myself a drink and sat at the desk (and of course checked Facebook – I have priorities). As I sat there, I thanked the Lord for the morning I had and I said “Lord, I really needed this morning.” He said “of course you did, that is why I commanded it.” I responded with an intelligent “huh?”. His soft patient voice spoke: “Remember the Sabbath Day”.

Oh yes. The Sabbath Day. One of the most misunderstood commands. Being raised Catholic, it meant “missing church was a sin”. In some Christian circles, it meant working on Sunday was a sin. This is the millionth example of religion deceiving people and keeping them from a relationship with Jesus. See religion is giving us rules to live by. Jesus didn’t come to give us rules, He came to give us life more abundantly. (John 10:10)

When God gave us the Ten Commandments through Moses, He wasn’t on a power trip like some folks might like to believe. In the same way a loving parent tells a child to not touch a hot stove or adhere to a curfew or go to bed at certain time, it is not for the purpose of exercising authority but it is for the child’s well being. When God told us to remember the Sabbath day, He was saying YOU NEED REST. He was telling us to stop the madness for one day. Stop the rat race. Stop. Come. Sit. Worship. Listen.
That spiritual rest brings us back to our core. It straightens our priorities and clears our vision. It gives us His perspective again. In Mark 2:27 Jesus says the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. In other words, His command to rest was a gift to us – something God did for us, not something we need to do for God.

Something else I realized… notice that God didn’t say to just take a day off of work and sit around and watch TV all day? Or sit by the pool? Or do some leisurely activity that you enjoy. Not that those things are wrong, but He knew we needed more than physical rest. We need spiritual, mental, and emotional rest. And there is only one place where that is found – in His presence. Note that I didn’t say “in church”. I said in His presence. If would have taken the day off and simply lounged around, I would be physically rested, but that is it – and my stress level would have risen once I thought about my to-do list again. But after spending time resting in Him, I feel centered and peaceful.

Pastor Jay said something several years ago that applies here. He was talking about making time to seek the Lord when life is so busy and hectic. He said “divert daily, withdrawal weekly, abandon annually”. Each day we ought to divert our attention to God throughout the day. These moments can be in small spurts of time. But weekly, we need to withdrawal – shed the hustle and bustle and spend quality time with the Lord.

At 2pm today I realized that not everything on my to-do list was going to get done. I also realized that it’s okay. I asked the Lord how He wanted me to spend the rest of my day. I got 4 hours of studying for my final exam in. I also did some of my Bible study and a little housework. I didn’t go to work. I didn’t write my sponsored children. I didn’t see my mentee. It’s okay. I feel refocused and I feel rested in every way. I am ready for the week ahead – even with all the stress it may bring.

I can’t wait for heaven… when every day will be a Sabbath Day and when I sing “Lord, you’re beautiful, your Face is all I seek” I will no longer see His face through eyes of faith, but I will see Him as He is.

Until then, I am grateful for the ability to withdrawal weekly and remember the Sabbath Day.

A Glance at a Picture

They say a picture’s worth a thousand words. Well sometimes, a picture leaves you speechless. That was the case this morning when my eyes caught a picture. The picture was not meant to be shown, but for just a few seconds I saw it – sweet, precious, heartbreaking. I think God Himself kept my eyes dry until I was on 79 driving home.

However, the significance of those few seconds was not in the emotion the picture invoked, but in the message God was speaking to me through it. His message was not new, or even shocking. I had been in this place before. God was saying “Raquel, you have lost focus. You’re priorities are all messed up.”

The thing is, I know what Godly priorities are, but for the past three weeks I have not lived it. My life has been absolutely consumed with only two things: work and school.
The issue is not in the hours spent. I rarely work more than 40 hours a week. My homework is insane and it does feel like if I am not working or sleeping I am doing schoolwork – but I am sure that is just how it feels. I mean, my parents stopped by last night for about an hour and I did sit on the couch and chat with them.

But for the last three weeks my brain has had room for only work and school. It seems I only have the mental energy for those two things and if I am not thinking of one of them, my brain is fried like a dead cell phone battery. Ashamedly, I have spent no quality time with the Lord – only quick prayers here and there. As I look at my desk, I see papers from my business management project covering the desk. Way in the back, buried under schoolwork, sits my Bible – untouched in three weeks. The only Scripture I have read has been in the daily devotional that my co-workers husband emails each day. Then I wonder why it takes such effort to engage in worship on Sunday morning. I wonder why the words of the sermon feel like droplets of water on desert ground. It’s because they are.

How did I get like this? Especially when I know better. When I thought about it, the sin nature in me wanted to immediately blame something or someone else. I didn’t have a particular person in mind. I didn’t even think about the company I work for. I thought about society as a whole and I was tempted to place the blame there.

I thought back to 1998 – the year I got my first office job. I went to a temp agency and they placed me at an investment firm called H.L. Zeve Associates. It was a small firm with three owners, an executive assistant, and four “assistant portfolio managers”, including me. I worked there for 5 years. I was a good worker – evidenced by the fact that my leaving salary was $10,000 higher than my starting salary. In that particular company, the hours were 8-4, still with an hour for lunch. Each day, for five years, I came in around 7:45 and left at 4. So did everyone else, including the owners. But what I remember about those days is… my brain did not think about work from 4:05pm until 7:45 am the next day. It was not even on my radar. It was the same for everyone else. The owners did other things. One coached wrestling at a local high school and was required to be at the high school at 4:30 every day. The other owner coached some other sport. Both owners had five kids. They didn’t just put food on their family’s tables, they were physically present with their families to eat it with them each evening. Back then, that was the norm. I know I sound like I am a senior citizen when I say “back then” but it is true. It is even evident in the music of that time period. Remember the song “Nine to Five”? How about “Morning Train’? That song says that the woman’s husband took a morning train, worked from nine to five and took another home to find her waiting for him. There is another song called “Home Fires Burning”. Some male country singer (and I only know because my folks listened to it) sang these lyrics: “the boss tells me I am late again, he can’t stand it when I only grin. He’s got me 8 hours – she’s got me after that. And I can’t wait till quittin time cause she keeps the home fires burning….”

Those days are gone. In my last company, everyone left “when the work was done”. I remember a woman who got hired there at the same time I did. She was returning to the working force now that her youngest daughter was in school full time. Her husband had his own business. He was able to be there when the kids got off the school bus, but he needed his wife home by 6 so that he could meet with his clients. Her husband and children suffered when she couldn’t get home on time. One day she told the boss that it was not working out for her. She said she didn’t mind working late or putting in extra time, but when she left her house in the morning she had to know the exact time she would return. She couldn’t find out at 4 that she could not leave at 5. Long story short – she doesn’t work there anymore. After I had been there several years, they hired a new financial advisor. This guy was awesome. He had been in the World Trade Center on 9/11. He moved away from New York to be able to prioritize his family. He left the office between 5-6 each day, but after a month he told me that even though he was physically at home with his family, he wasn’t mentally with them. Work had taken so much from him mentally that he had nothing to left to give to anything or anyone else. He said all he could do was veg in front of the tv and he was snippy with his wife and kids. This man, who I admire greatly, left the firm and started his own company.

That guy’s story is the norm these days. Even if you only work 40 hours, work seems to zap all your energy. Work gets the best – everything else gets the rest. People will say “well, that is just how it is” or “if that is what it takes to get the work done, then that is what it takes”. They may even kick up how much money one is getting paid. Newsflash folks – the people at my first company made six figures. The non-owners made high five figures. They ran a successful, profitable business that gave impeccable client service – and they did it in a 40 hour week with no mental overload. Those folks are all retired now – and sold the business. I recently spoke with one of those guys. I called Steve to see how he and his now grown children were doing. We talked about society and I asked him how he managed to be a successful business man and a good Christian, husband, and father. He said to me: “Raquel, each business has “busy seasons”. For instance accountants are busy in April and may need some overtime. But if you consistently have to work 50 + hours a week to get the work done, you are either mismanaged, understaffed, or you don’t work efficiently enough or your business unit as a whole is not efficient and does not have good time management skills”. I agree Steve. Many businesses, including churches, will have 2-3 hours meetings to discuss something that could be decided in 10 minutes, and then they wonder why people are still at their desks at 6:30pm.


Let me clarify something. I am not saying that we should never put in extra time at work. When I was about 3 years into my 5 years at my first job, one of my co-workers had a major surgery and was out for two months. I did half of her job and mine which meant 10 hour days and half Saturdays. It was temporary – not a lifestyle. But sometimes when folks hear me talk about society, they think I am advocating being a clock watcher. Like “oops, its 5:02, I can’t be at work”. I have never been that way nor do I feel that it’s right.

But just like in the Garden of Eden, the enemy is a deceiver. He is known for taking a Biblical principle and twisting it slightly or taking it too far. See the Bible says to work as if you are working for God and not for man. (Colossian 3:23). That means when a Christian goes to work, he is supposed to do his absolute best and work as unto the Lord.
Today, we have taken that concept too far and we have gone from working as unto the Lord – to working as if it’s our Lord.

Well – that was a long rant. And not even the point of this blog post. But these are the things I was rehearsing in my head when God told me my priorities are whacked out. I wanted to blame society and say “well that is just the world I live in”. It is the world I live in, but we heard the Scripture today… Romans 12:2 – “Do not conform to the pattern of this world…”

So when that blame game didn’t work, I started to harp on school. School is a source of regret and resentment for me. I regret that I did not go to college after high school and I resent that I have to go now. When I graduate (the day before I enter the nursing home), I will have taken approximately 40 classes – only 8 of them will actually help me in my field. This is nothing but a $70,000 line on my resume. It’s also a blow to my pride because I am unable to make the straight As I made in high school. However, God has shown me time and time again that this is His will for me right now.

Obviously, neither work nor school is my problem. I am my problem. I allow work and school to take all of my mental energy. I get caught in this cycle. When my energy is zapped, I get cranky. When I get cranky, I sleep more. When I sleep more, I don’t spend time with the Lord. When I don’t spend time with the Lord, I starve spiritually which makes me more cranky. It also makes me lose focus.

This morning, that quick glance at a picture caused me to refocus. I remembered a sermon I heard several years ago. The preacher said: “in this life, there are only two things that really matter – your relationship with God, and your relationships with others. Because they are the only things that are eternal.” I realized that every thing that has taken my time, energy and focus in these past few weeks are meaningless in the view of eternity. When I stand before God, He won’t ask me about my business management project. He won’t ask me if my spreadsheets were done on time. He will ask about my relationship with Jesus and my relationships with the people He put in my life.

Needless to say that does not mean I shouldn’t go to work. I still have bills to pay. I can’t call off work tomorrow because I am focusing on relationships. And I still have to go to school and do this project for class. But I can’t allow those things to consume me nor take first priority.

So I began to contemplate how to do this. Its one thing to know I need to do something, it’s another thing to actually do it. I realized that I actually have a wonderful example. I have a coworker on my team who is a Christian. Her husband also works for our company, but in a different division. They have a 1 year old daughter. My co-worker is very good at her job. Very good at it. But if I look at her life this is what I see. She is a Christian, a wife, a mother, and a business analyst – IN THAT ORDER. She gives work her best during work hours, but when the clock says her time belongs to her husband and daughter, that is where her time goes. She will check back in with work when she needs to, like she did with me last Friday, but her priorities are straight and her life more peaceful than mine. The funny thing is… I am not a wife, nor a mother. All I have to do is put the Christian before the business analyst and student. This cannot be that hard. LOL.

So it’s Sunday evening. A new week and a new chance is quickly approaching. My short term goal is to get up early each morning and spend quality time with the Lord. Even if I have to sleep on the couch to ensure I don’t oversleep – I need to put the Lord first each morning. I need to read the Word – even if I am behind in reading my textbook. Then, I want to go through my day with my focus on Him and the people in my life, even if I have to spend in my day in Microsoft Excel. My long term goal is to get back into a small group or the Beth Moore ladies Bible study – even if its means I earn a C in all my college classes. I think I would rather graduate a C student then graduate with high honors at the expense of what is really important.

What’s really important. I’ve known all along, but I lost focus. Thankfully, the Lord got my attention – with a picture worth way more than a thousand words.

There Is Still Garbage on the Front Steps

The blog is going to confuse most folks. While still keeping to the theme of my blog, lessons learned along the way, I am going to write this one a little differently. I am going to write an analogy – almost an allegory, but not quite. When I was young, when I had a hard time understanding something, my mom would make an analogy to something I did understand. It worked well in my childhood and still does. I think that is why God sometimes uses it to help me see things clearly.

This past week was not one of my favorites. It happens. Some days (or weeks) are better than others. When I went to bed on Friday night, I could not see the forest for the trees. I had no idea what happened, what went wrong, what I did wrong… I was just lost. So I prayed that the Lord would show me His viewpoint. Shortly afterwards I fell asleep. Saturday morning I woke up and before I was even alert enough to think, this analogy came to me:

My apartment is one of four apartments in an old duplex house. The house has two first floor apartments and two second floor apartments. Each resident has their own private entrance, but the two people (including myself) who live on the second floor have a door that opens to a flight of stairs that then leads into our apartments.

To be clear – the story I am about to share is fictional.

So once upon a time, (lol) I come home one day to find that someone put their garbage in my stairwell. Strange. Why would someone do that? But it was only a little bit of garbage and I didn’t know who did it so I clean it up and walked up to my apartment. As the days went on, each day there was more and more garbage being piled in my stairwell. So I called my landlord. He said he would look into it. Within a few hours I had a sign on my door telling folks not to dump their garbage in my stairwell. It worked for awhile, but then the garbage began to pile up again. One day, I caught a few people in the act. It was the neighbors. Two different neighbors, one two houses down and one from across the street, were dumping their garbage in my stairwell. Additionally, they were dumping garbage in the stairwell of the other second floor apartment.

So obviously I went over to talk to these neighbors. I spoke kindly and asked them to please not do that anymore. They are kind in return and agree to stop. The next day, I came home to more garbage. The garbage is piled higher and higher and I can no longer to get to my apartment.

I call my landlord. He says – use the back door and back steps. Now my building does have a back door with a back stairwell, but it’s cumbersome. Tiny, narrow, winding steps – hard to navigate especially while carrying things. But it’s a way to get to my apartment. So I use the back door and successfully enter my apartment. But don’t I still have a problem? Even though I got to my apartment, there is garbage on my steps. It doesn’t belong there.

After I complain to the landlord again, he decides to bring a team of highly skilled workers to make the back steps less cumbersome. In just over a month, the back stairs are fast and comfortable and easy to navigate. I am grateful to my landlord and his skilled team. In the ease of climbing the back steps and in my gratitude, the garbage may not be my first thought – but there is still garbage on my steps.

The problem continues. One day, I come home to find the tenant from the other second floor apartment, cleaning his stairwell and throwing some of that garbage on to the pile in my stairwell. I spoke very sternly to him and said “I will not tolerate you throwing your garbage on my stairwell”. He snaps back. Shortly after that, my phone rings and it’s the landlord. He tells me I was too abrasive with my fellow tenant and I should be empathetic because every single day the man spends the first two hours of his evening cleaning his stairwell from all the garbage being piled there. Really? I told my landlord that the man has a choice. He chooses to spend 2 hours cleaning the stairwell rather than taking the back steps. The landlord replies, that it is his business. At this point, I am thoroughly confused. It is the man’s choice to clean the stairwell or use the back steps, but it becomes my business the moment he puts garbage in my stairwell.

So the landlord decides to make some changes. Instead of the easier to navigate back steps, the landlord decides to build me my own personal elevator. This elevator will operate at lightning speed. It will be heated in the winter and air conditioned in the summer. I will even have my own elevator operator that will help me carry my bags from the car to my door. That is wonderful. So kind of my landlord to do all that for me. See, even when we disagree, I do believe my landlord is a kind and caring individual that truly wants the best for his tenants.

But have we lost sight of something…. THERE IS STILL GARBAGE ON THE FRONT STEPS!!! By now the garbage is piled so high and bugs, animals and rodents have come. I am enjoying all the comforts of my new elevator and doorman – and man, I truly love them. But even while I sleep, I can hear the rodents scampering on the garbage on the steps.

This ends my fictitious story and the analogy God gave me on Saturday morning.
But the purpose was not for wild storytelling. This blog is about lessons learned. So I ask the Lord to show me through this analogy where I have done wrong, where others have done wrong, and what to do about it (and what not to do).

So let’s analyze this. What did I do wrong? How many of you were thinking way before I ended the story “why didn’t you call the police?”. Where I went wrong was I kept calling the landlord. The landlord did everything in his power to make my life easier, but he could not stop the neighbors because they are not his tenants. The police may be able to stop the neighbors from dumping garbage. But I am not sure, I am new to this area of town and I do not personally know how the police operate. I grew up in a town where the police were useless. My mentee lives in a town where the police are useless. So what does one do when police can’t make a wrong right? The next step is the magistrate. (I hear folks saying “duh”) Now the magistrate is not easy. It’s more than a phone call. It costs something. It costs time and money and stress and even possibly unwanted grief and publicity.

So what would you do? Would you pay the cost of the magistrate to eradicate the wrongdoing? Unfortunately, I know what many people would do. They would move.
And I truly believe it is that mentally that grieves the heart of God.

Because see, the reality is… if I move – wrong wins. If I move, I wave a while flag and run from the problem instead of fixing the problem. I may give up my elevator and doorman to live in a garbage free area, but the truth is – whether I am there or not – THERE IS STILL GARBAGE ON THE FRONT STEPS! And while that garbage may no longer affect me, it still affects others. And the stench has gone beyond the stairwell and is now overflowing into the street. The residents just say “it is what it is” and they adapt and live with the stench. Good either flees or becomes complacent and lives with it – and wrong wins.

I have seen this time and time again in many different ways. When I was a teenager, my mom had a stroke – her second one actually. While she was in the hospital, the nurses treated her poorly and did not properly attend to her. My dad kept trying to reason with them and ask them to do what my mom needed done, and each time they were nice and polite and promised to do their jobs – but they never did. One day I nearly flipped out – I started to leave the room to go speak abrasively to these nurses because obviously kindness didn’t work. My dad stopped me. He told me that if I flipped on them, they would treat my mom even worse when we weren’t there. He may have been right. So I did nothing. But once my mom was moved into rehab in another section of the hospital, my dad did nothing about those nurses – because it no longer affected his wife. Because my dad did nothing, how many other patients were mistreated? My dad was only concerned with his family but… THERE WAS STILL GARBAGE ON THE FRONT STEPS. And others suffered because my dad didn’t fight. Wrong won. Right lost.

My mentee lives in “bad” part of Pittsburgh. High crime rate – shootings almost every day. But it wasn’t always like that. It began as a good community. But when bad stuff first began to occur, the good got scared or fed up and left for greener pastures. Wrong won, Right lost. Today, when I hear people talk about that community or similar places and I hear them say “I am scared to go there”. My response is “well, what are doing about it?”. They usually look at me like I am nuts and say “well I just don’t go there”. Whether or not I speak my response my answer is the same – “then you are part of the problem”. By avoiding that area, you are saying that as long as it doesn’t affect you, then you don’t need to worry about it. You are actually handing the enemy a victory. He got the territory. He won. We have all heard that quote from Edmund Burke: “the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” That statement hold true no matter the severity of the wrong. From human atrocities like the Holocaust, to everyday occurrences like bullying on the schoolyard, wrong will win unless right stops it.

Lastly, but most importantly, I need to emphasize the importance of prayer. Now, I don’t mean it in the cop out way. Some folks will go the route of saying that we should just pray that God will deal with the garbage on the steps. Ultimately, He will. When we hear the sound of the trumpet, God will make all things right. But in the meantime, He has told us that we are His hands and feet. Where prayer is absolutely crucial is in that we need His guidance, wisdom, and protection. If I had been in better communication with Him last week, I might have heard him nudge me and say “the landlord can’t help – call the police.” Or He might have said “do nothing right now, wait until I say so and then take these steps.” If I would have talked to Him more often, He probably would have given me peace. Not a peace that says “the garbage is okay”, but a peace that would keep me calm while seeking wisdom on how to fight the garbage. But I know what God would not have told me. He would not tell me to accept the garbage and He would not tell me to move and make the garbage someone else’s problem.

So as a new week begins, I am calm. I am not angry or stressed – not even at the neighbors who keep throwing garbage on my stairs. I am not angry, but I also refuse to accept it. It is my goal to stay in close communication with the Lord. My prayer is that I see things through His eyes, ask Him for wisdom and direction, and try to live like Jesus would – knowing that Jesus is the Lion and the Lamb, so I must know when to baaaa and when to roar. 

Jesus on the Back Porch

I have wanted to write this blog for over a month now. It is a very difficult one to write. Sharing it requires me to be even more transparent than I am comfortable with - and I am pretty much an open book.
Also, this is going to be a little deeper spiritually than my usual blogs.

About a month ago, I was hanging out with a friend and doing a Bible study. This friend had been given a little booklet from a relative and the two of us were reading it. I thought that my friend would greatly benefit from this booklet, but God had other plans. Here it was me who needed it and as I read it out loud, it was all I could do to hold back sobs while I read. The sobs came later when I was alone, but it was a good cry - the cleansing, healing kind.

Apparently, this little booklet isn't new, but it was the first I had seen it. The booklet is titled "My Heart - Christ's Home" by Robert Boyd Munger. In order for this blog to make sense, I am going to have to quote it often. To differentiate between the authors words and my own thoughts, I will italicize the authors words.

From the title, you can gather that the book is about inviting Jesus into your heart and allowing Him to dwell there. The author illustrates this by talking about the different rooms in your heart - like the rooms in a home. He begins with Jesus knocking at the door of your heart (Revelation 3:20). So of course the homeowner invites Him in and they begin a relationship. The first room they visit is the Study or Library (your mind). It then moves to the dining room (your appetites and desires). The living room was the best part. This is where you and Jesus meet and have fellowship. Intimate talks by the fireplace. The other rooms include the work room, the rec room, and the bedroom. I would love to go into all the lessons in all these "rooms" but if I did that I might as well just re-type the book. Perhaps I shall blog about the other rooms separately. But this next section of the book is what brought me to my knees:


The Hall Closet

"One day I came home and found Him waiting for me at the front door. An arresting look was in His eye. As I entered, he said to me: 'there's a peculiar odor in the house. Something must be dead around here. Its upstairs. I think it is in the hall closet.' As soon as He said this I knew what He was talking about. Indeed there was a small closet up there on the hall landing, just a few square feet. In that closet behind lock and key I had one or two little personal things I did not want anyone to know about. Certainly I did not want Christ to see them. They were dead and rotting things leftover from my old life - not wicked, but not right and good to have in a Christian life. Yet I loved them. I wanted them so much for myself I was really afraid to admit they were there. Reluctantly, I went up the stairs with Him and as we mounted, the odor became stronger and stronger. He pointed at the door and said: 'Its in there - some dead thing!' It made me angry! I had given Him access to the study, the dining room, the living room, the workroom, the rec room, the bedroom and now He was asking me about a little two by four closet. I thought to myself: 'this is too much! I am not going to give Him the key'. Reading my thoughts, He said: 'if you think I am going to stay up here with this smell you are mistaken. I will take my bed out on the back porch or somewhere else. I am certainly not going to stay around that.' And I saw Him start down the stairs.

When you have come to know and love Jesus, one of the worst things that can happen is to sense Him withdrawing His face and fellowship.

This is where I nearly lost it. I have been there and done that - twice. The author is correct. Once you have known and loved Jesus and enjoyed sweet fellowship with Him and have intimate conversations in the living room of your heart, it is a horrific scene to watch Him turn away. The pain pierces my heart like a sword. Now the author was wise when he has Jesus say that He will "move to the back porch". Because that means that He is still there with us. Jesus says He will never leave us or forsake us. He is still our Protector, Provider, and Shepherd. Priscilla Shirer says it like this: "God's loyalty does not equal God's approval. May we never equate His faithfulness to us in times of rebellion with His endorsement or tolerance of our choices."

I also appreciate how the author states that what was in that closet was not wicked, it just wasn't right - did not belong in the life of a Christian.

In invited Jesus into my heart on July 30, 1988. He and I have spent precious time in the living room of my heart. We have spent countless hours in the study. In May of 2005, Jesus noticed something in my life that didn't belong there. At that time, when I watched Him turn around and head for the back porch, my heart was filled with anger and bitterness and that masked the pain of the loss of fellowship. Ashamedly, it took until January 2007 for me to invited Him back in. But as the author says, He won't come back in with the smell from the hall closet. So now what.. let's read on..


"I had to give in. 'I will give you the key, I said sadly, but you'll have to open the closet and clean it out - I haven't the strength to do it". Jesus replied 'I know you can't do it. Just give me the key. Just authorize me to handle that closet and I will.' So with trembling fingers, I passed the key over to Him. He took it from my hand...and began to clean..."

So back to me. I had mentioned that Jesus moved to the back porch of my heart about 8 years ago. So why did this booklet shake me to my core? Because as I sat with my friend reading this booklet, I realized that Jesus was once again on the back porch of my heart. In fact, I remember the exact day He turned and walked away. Now He was still with me - still in my heart. But the intimate fellowship was not happening. After all, what kind of person invites a friend into their home but is perfectly content with them sleeping on the back porch??? I didn't lose my Christianity (my relationship) but the rooms of my heart missed His Presence.

So what was so valuable in that hall closet? What could be worth keeping and seeing Jesus walk away? The author says it clearly: "it was dead and rotting, yet I loved it. I wanted it so much for myself"


See, like the author said.. what was in my hall closet wasn't something "wicked". I wasn't a thief, a murderer. I wasn't committing sexual sin. The dead and rotting stench in my closet was simple rebellion. God had asked me to do somethings over a year ago and I looked Him right in the eye and said "no". I didn't want to say no. I wanted Him to have His full reign. But I want Him to have His reign while I still had what I wanted, and still did things my way. God isn't Burger King - we can't have it our way. I wanted my cake and to eat it too. The group Casting Crowns described me perfectly in one of their songs: "always looking around, never looking up, I'm so double minded. A plank eyed saint, with dirty hands and a heart divided."

I spent over a year trying to clean that closet. I hated Jesus being on the back porch. I was grateful that He hadn't forsaken me and I knew my salvation was secure, but I longed for our sweet fellowship. I gave as much effort as I could muster, but I couldn't get that closet cleaned.

Like the author said - I just didn't have the strength to clean it up. I could not let go.
This little booklet, given to my friend, ended up in my hands. It was God speaking so clearly that there was no confusion that it was Him speaking. He said "stop trying to clean it - just give me the key". Again the author said it perfectly: 'with hands trembling I gave Him the key'.

For approximately the past month, Jesus has been cleaning. Sometimes what He throws away is painful. I want to go dig it out of the trash. But I won't - because I am enjoying having Him home again. We have met again in the study, and though our living room conversations are still not what they used to be, they are slowly resuming. I think the more I let Him clean, the more time we will have to enjoy the living room.

It blows my mind to think that after 25 years, I can still place a higher value on things than I do on Jesus. But what blows my mind even more is that He stays. If I were Him, I would have walked off my back porch a long time ago and found another house to dwell in. But He stays. He endures the back porch and patiently waits for me to hand Him the key and to trust Him that what He has for me is better than whatever I was clinging to. And beyond that, He still knocks at the door - expressing His desire to come back in. I truly believe that my friend's relative was being used by God. The relative just thought it was for my friend, God knew it was for me. He sent a letter with someone who was permitted in my living room. The letter said "can I come back in? I will if you just give me the key".

It is my sincere hope to never see Him turn and head for the back porch again. I feel much better with Him in the house.

Healing

After my surgery, I received a card in the mail from my spiritual mentor and friend Kathy. It was a very well chosen card. The words were great. The words she wrote were perfect. They began with: “I am praying for your physical healing and for the healing of your soul”. As soon as I read that the tears began to fall. Kathy knows me better than almost anyone and she knew how badly I needed that healing of my soul. In fact, her next words were: “so much has happened over the last couple years...”

This blog post is not going to rehash everything that has occurred in the past two years that have caused me to need a soul healing. Rather, this post is to “see what great love the Father has lavished on me”. ( I John 3:1)

I have been the recipient of so much love and care this past week. The day of my surgery, my Kathy came and picked me up and drove me to the hospital. My mother was planning to meet us there. As Kathy and I were walking to the place to register, we heard a voice behind us say “hey, wait up”. It was my friend and fellow LAMP mentor Deb Dilliplaine. She had surprised me by coming to the hospital to pray with me before surgery. That was such an awesome sweet surprise.

Kathy stayed with my mom while I was being prepped and they both sat with me while I got the IV hooked up and what not. After surgery, as I was coming out of the anesthesia, I realized my bed was moving. I was being transported to my regular room. The funny thing is, I looked to my left and the first person I saw was Ron Kutzavitch holding a floral arrangement sent by my church. His wife Kathy (a different Kathy) has been in my Bible study group for many years and they own a floral shop and the church uses them for these occasions. I had only met Ron once before, but he is a very personable guy and he walked with the nurse to my room and set my arrangement on the table and wished me well. My mom came in the room and knew immediately what to do – GIVE ME MY CELL PHONE! LOL.

I was a little nervous about being in Sewickley Hospital. Both my mom and my uncle had horrible experiences there. That was not the case for me. I had impeccable service. Three very kind, caring nurses made me feel like I was their only patient. And each of them understood that my first priority was my cell phone and the charger! Hahaha

I got to come home the very next day. My sweet friend Kathy (the one from the first paragraph) came back to see me about 3pm and brought me some groceries. Then that evening, Kathy Kutzavitch brought me dinner. The next morning I got a visit from Kristin Radacsy. She and I had a great conversation and I was blessed by much of what she shared. One little thing she said ended up meaning the world to me. I mentioned that when I had posted on Facebook that I was home from the hospital and resting, that our lead pastor Scott Stevens liked that status post. I told Kristin that even though the flowers I received said “from Pastor Scott and Tina and your North Way family” I knew the assistants order those and I didn’t even think Scott knew. I wasn’t upset by that – I just figured the lead pastor of 4,000 people had bigger things to be informed of. But Kristin said: “of course he knows – especially since its you”.

What followed next was nothing short of a miracle. August 1st – two days after my surgery, was the day my best friend and her husband where scheduled to leave the US for China. They were at the airport at some early hour in the morning. Well, they lost their seats on the flight from Pittsburgh to Chicago and could not secure another flight that day. Denise had a peace about it though and thought that God must have some reason for delaying them a day. One of her friends posted on Denise’s Facebook that God had a divine appointment for them in the US. Well, after going to her son’s house to get some sleep, she and her hubby came to see me. I hadn’t seen them since the Sunday before my surgery and we thought that was our good-bye. Well, Denise ended up making dinner for me and the three of us ate dinner together. She and her husband would not let me lift a finger. So the three of us are sitting at my table just chatting and eating and all of a sudden Denise looks down at her plate and I see tears well up. I asked her what was wrong. Nothing was wrong. She told me that she knew about what all the other ladies were doing for me after my surgery and she felt so bad that she was unable to be here for me and make sure I was okay and help me out. As we hugged (and poor John endured all that girly emotion) we realized God had blessed us by delaying them. I got an extra day with them and they got to help me out. Denise went home and posted to her Facebook that she did indeed have a divine appointment in the US – to see her best friend and make sure she was okay. Sure enough, the next day everything work out perfectly and they made their flights to China – with their luggage.

More cards, flowers, and gifts came each day. On Sunday, I woke up and was sad because I was missing church. I knew I could catch the sermon online but I hate missing worship. Pastor Kent saw my Facebook post that said I hated missing church and he sent me a link – a link to the recording of Saturday night’s service – the whole thing – worship and all. So I got to attend church while at home. Last night my friend Gail spoiled me rotten! She brought dinner, an entire pie for dessert, a gift, and washed my dishes. My friend Susan had given me a gift bag before my surgery with multiple gifts in it – told me to open one each day during recovery. I had something to look forward to each morning – what a sweet idea. My friend John has been over several times. He has cooked four meals for me and handled my trash and other things I cannot take care of. Even my parents’ pastors have called me and prayed for me.

Why am I listing all this out? Because all this love that the Father is lavishing on me is the beginning of the healing of my soul. During these past two difficult years, I have made many mistakes and haven’t handled everything in the wisest way. And the past few months I have been a beast. The pain has been keeping me up at night and cranky during the day. I have been unpleasant and difficult to deal with. And the worst part is I hadn’t spent quality time with the Lord in a long time.

But something happened the week before my surgery that has had such an impact on me. It was the stone in the water and all these other blessings have been ripple effects. My friend was in town for a week. Prior to her coming to Pittsburgh, we had been at odds. I love her dearly but we got caught up in that Scripture that says “like iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another”. And truthfully, I had been a snot. She arrived on a Monday and I had been wanting some one on one time with her to apologize to her. That one on one time didn’t come until Thursday. But we arranged to have dinner and I got to the restaurant first. I was sitting in that booth like a child sitting in the principals office waiting for punishment. I knew she was going to come in, sit down and tell me about myself. And she had every right to. I had my apology rehearsed and ready, but I would give her the opportunity to give me what for. She sits down and we chat and order food. I waited for the hammer. It never came. Perplexed, I proceeded with my apology. She looked at me like I had ten heads. She told me she had already spoken what she had to say and it was done and over with. No grudges, no hard feelings, no damaged friendship, no lashes with a wet noodle…. I kept trying to rehash it and she said “I have moved on”.
I was humbled and blown into the middle of next week.

When I got in my car, I was still stunned. Happy and relieved, but stunned. When I talked to the Lord about it He said to me: “Raquel, that was a human. You received that grace, forgiveness, and restoration from a human. Why is it so hard to receive it from me?” I realized that each time I approach the Lord, I give myself a Christian “report card”. And lately, my grades have been horrible. So I approach Him with shame and wait for the tongue lashing – but it doesn’t come.

Both my friend and God had the same six words for me: “you know me better than that”.
It’s true. I do. That knowledge was in my head – I just needed to secure it in my heart.
That night at Smokey Bones began the healing of my soul. It enabled me to receive all the other love and care from the Lord through my friends.

So tonight my physical body is on the mend and so is my heart. Both are progressing well. The printed words in that card from Kathy say: “the One who made us knows how to mend us. He is the Great Physician – the only One Who can heal body, soul, and spirit. I couldn’t be in better hands. :)

It is Well With My Soul

In my last post, I discussed the difference between reality and truth. Each day I see more of the huge gap between the two. I have spoken to several friends about it. Reality is very real, but truth is higher and truth is absolute.

Well, because I have "preached" this so fervently, I think God wants to be sure I practice what I preach. Beyond that, I think God wants to be certain that I believe it wholeheartedly.

My "reality" has been hit with two very difficult things in the past month. These events have caused me to rely on the deep roots of my almost 25 years of faith. They have caused to me question what I believe and why.

I have been having some health issues for over six months. I ignored it for the longest time, but when the pain kept getting worse and I was waking up in the middle of the night with pain that took my breath away, I knew it was time to see the doc. After several tests and more doctors appointments than I ever cared to have, the diagnosis was in. My uterus had multiple fibroid tumors. Many women have them and for most women its not a problem, but mine had grown too big and were too numerous. They were not only causing excruciating pain, they were interfering with other health issues.

The physical pain I had dealt with for months was nothing compared to the question my doctor asked: "are you done having children?" Not wanting to get emotional in front of the doctor, I quickly replied: "done??? I havent started." That did not work. Knowing that I am 39, she says "oh, so you don't won't children?". My initial thought was that a more merciful God would have given me stage 4 ovarian cancer.

Was this doctor serious? My desire to have children began when I was five years old. No - I didnt want kids at age 5. LOL. But I remember being 5 years old and playing with my cousin who was a year younger than me. We played house and even at that young age, we both dreamed of the day we would become mothers. We even had names for our kids picked out. As we got a little older and stopped playing with dolls, we would play the game of LIFE. Each time we landed on a space that said "a daughter or son is born" and we would reach for that pink or blue peg, we had a rule... before we put it in our car, we had to name it. My first choice for a boy's name was Christopher. For a girl, Susan. My cousin April's choices were Nathaniel and Julie. My cousin and I are middle-aged women now. Her son Nathaniel is 17 and her daughter Julie is 12. I have two cats - and they are not named Christopher and Susan. (my attempt at some humor here).

The humiliation in the doctors office did not end there. Irritated, I informed her that I was incapable of making children by myself. She then asked if I was married.. no. Do I have a fiance.. no. When would this end??? She informed me that I had to choice between two surgeries. However, she would not be able to perform them. So she sent me to see a more specialized doctor. When I met with him, he began asking the same painful questions. The first surgery I could choose was a myomectomy. I won't go into detail but the doctor said it was a "morbid, gruesome, horrible procedure" that would take at least six weeks to recover from. It would save the organ, but could possibly damage it to the point that it could not fulfill its purpose anyway. Then the doc suggested another method to try to save the organ, but it also had huge risks and would only delay the inevitable.

So this doctor's words cut deeper than his scapel. He says: "you're 7 months away from being 40 years old. You're unmarried with no prospects. Your chances of getting pregnant and not miscarrying are slim to none anyway." So he scheduled a hysterectomy for July 30th.

Needless to say, I was crushed. But two things have helped me to not remain in a state of despair. The first was true empathy given by my best friend. I say true empathy for a reason. I have many friends that love me and care about me. I have had the support and sympathy of many and I am grateful for it. However, I believe true empathy can only be given by someone who completely understands your pain. The only way to completely understand someone's pain is if you yourself have experienced the same thing. If not, you can only imagine what the person feels.

Though my best friend is married, she has no children of her own. When I called her crying, she spoke words that told me she understood. She said "being a woman and not bearing children is a huge blow to your self-esteem. It makes you question why you ever born, or at least born a woman. It makes you wonder if you have any purpose for being on the planet." Just to have someone understand that was a huge help.

Those words brought comfort. The words of another friend brought me back to the truth (not reality - truth). These words were not even spoken directly to me. I had attended a meeting with a friend at a ministry that he does. This person was speaking to a group and I was just sitting there observing. The people in the group began to ask some really deep questions about why God allows tragedy. My friend, who has been through what I would think is the worst thing a human being can ever experience while on this fallen world, spoke to the group and said: "you all know what happened to me. I have two choices: I can either lay down and die, or I can rely on God." He then went on to state an often quoted verse of Scripture. Proverbs 3:5. That Scripture is quoted so much. Its often one of those band-aid Scriptures that we quote when we have nothing else to say. But this time was different. When my friend looked at the group and said "The Bible tells me to lean not on my own understanding", it was a lightning bolt that pushed that Scripture from my head to my heart. It took my breath away when I considered it in the context of the one speaking it. To hear it quoted is one thing, but to see it lived out so well by someone who is applying it - holy smokes. I thought to myself, if he can apply it to his situation, I surely can apply it to mine.

So I have been doing okay. I am not happy - but I am not in despair either. I have peace about this upcoming surgery.

Well sometimes life likes to kick a dog when he's down. Last night something else happened. I can't go into detail here - not because its too personal - heck I just talked about a hysterectomy. But I can't go into detail about it because unlike the pain of not being able to bear children, no one that I know has walked my journey in this area. I am sure someone on the planet has, I just don't personally know anyone who has experienced what I have for the past 20 years. If I would tell them what occurred last night, they would laugh, roll their eyes, tell me I am being dramatic and overreacting, or just give me all this advice on what to do. They would point out all the silver linings and rainbows and I just can't hear it. All I can say is that at this season of my life, the part of my life that I have enjoyed the most has been significantly reduced.

Believe it or not, I did not write this blog to be a depressing sob story. The general purpose of my blog is to share the life lesson God teaches me along the journey. Today's blog is about truth. And I have been saying - Truth Trumps Reality. Truth is higher than reality. Truth is absolute. And like I said in the beginning of this blog, I think God wants to make sure that I truly believe what I believe and that I practice what I preach.

The Bible is the source of absolute truth - because it was written by the One Who is the Truth. And like my friend said - the Bible tells us to lean not on our own understanding. See my own understanding is that my life (reality) stinks right now. My own understanding says I have been denied a privilege that the most get to enjoy. That doesn't mean my life is all bad - I have a long list of blessings to be grateful for - its just a painful season right now. That's reality.

The truth? The truth is - God is good. The truth is that He is my shepherd and I shall not want. (Psalm 23) The truth is He works all things for my good. (Romans 8:28).

When I woke up this morning, I was leaning a bit too much on my own understanding. And my reality today says that I have a ton of things to do to prepare for surgery on Tuesday and the recovery period. Housework, shopping... So I had planned to skip out on my typical Saturday morning time with the Lord. Not wise. Thankfully, I am a Facebook addict. I quickly checked Facebook before getting a shower, and a friend and posted about being too busy to spend time with the Lord. It was at the top of my news feed. (Can't accuse God of not speaking to us or pursuing us). So I made the choice to sit down with my Bible. I wasn't in the mood. I shared that with God. I told Him I knew better than to be mad at Him, but I was sad and confused as to why my life is the way it is. But I apologized to Him to trying to use Him as a genie in a lamp to grant me my wishes. Then I went to the book of Psalms - and landed at Psalm 145.

Here I read: "The Lord is loving towards all He has made. The Lord upholds those who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down. He opens His hand and satisfies the desires of every living thing. The Lord is righteous in all of His ways and loving toward all He has made. The Lord is near to all who call on Him, to all who call on Him in truth. He fulfills the desires of those who love Him."

I sat on my balcony, grateful for the cool temperature and my orange flavored coffee. I smiled through the tears. See my reality tells me my desires are not fulfilled. But my reality must bow to the Truth. Just as Jesus Himself had to battle the enemy of our souls with the Word, I too had to speak to my circumstances and say "It is written..." After that battle, the sweet still small voice spoke comfort with another Scripture. He reminded me of those famous words in Isaiah - He bore our sorrows. He may not be a genie in a lamp, but along with my sin, He bore my sorrow on Calvary's cross.

So when I look at Jesus, the things of this world do grow strangely dim. I respond with worship and two old hymn comes to mind... On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand and It is Well With My Soul. I posted on Facebook yesterday about truly meaning the words when we sing in worship. And I mean these words:

When peace like a river attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul.

And...

Through every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.