I Hate Kate!

Well.... I really don't hate her. For years I watched John and Kate Plus 8. I watched as the squirming little NICU grads came home and I watched as the family fell apart. I watched every single irritating moment of their television lives. I never missed an episode of those cute little toddlers and dysfunctional couple who made them. So today I turn on the TV as I'm eating my vegan hot and sour soup. There on TLC is now the even more irritating Kate Plus 8. Perfectly coiffed, extensions in place, face lifted and tummy tucked she just gets on my last nerve. Really what I need to feel is grateful. Why? you may ask. Well, you guessed it...I'm going to tell you.

You see, I used to be Kate. I was that mother and wife.

For most of my life I have felt out of control and grasping for it with everything in me. Growing up, my household was run by my mother who was even more controlling than I. In all of my schooling, my work and my marriages, there was always someone to tell me what to do. I was that child, student and wife who rebelled every chance that I could even if it was just in little, subtle ways. Perhaps the worst of me surfaced behind the scenes. As it is with so many of us control freaks, we save the unglued moments for those we should, and really do hold most dear.

This has been a week to really reflect on the subject as well. Last Thursday while having one of those nights when I just could not get to sleep, I began to scroll through my Facebook news feeds. I guess it was about a year ago that we all began getting the adds that would come across our pages every few posts or so. Tonight one of the ads captured my attention. As a woman who knows her purpose is to be involved in women's ministries, ads for conferences immediately catch my eye and I find myself clicking into websites to see if the conferences are near, affordable and if my schedule will allow me to go. This particular series of speakers was an online conference and of course I was on it. I registered, got the confirmation email and confirmed right away.

Then I began to really take a look at the topics in the series. Every topic was something that spoke to the pain I have endured in my life. After watching a couple of the videos, I felt the need to thank the founder of the group. Not only did the speakers touch areas of my life, but I knew beyond a a doubt that these were some of the tough areas that God had told me to tackle and He had impressed on me how needed real and open dialog is in these areas. You see unhealed wounds will fester if covered for too long. Wounds heal best in an open atmosphere. The same can be said for emotional wounds. If we cover our wounds, if we push them down into the recesses without working through them, then we allow those areas to become infected. When I was young, my mother had a favorite saying, "we don't air our dirty laundry". While I agree, we don't discuss everything with everyone, there is a portion of this that I disagree with. If something causes us great pain, then we must talk about it with someone.

So when I saw the videos of these women who allowed themselves to be real and raw and vulnerable in their recovering, the memory of God's words to me were rekindled. "They need someone to tell them they have been through it and survived. They need someone to show them there is hope"  In not so many words, this is what the Holy Spirit spoke to me on the day He revealed the purpose of my pain.

Within a few moments, I reached out to the coordinator and founder. I thanked her for her obedience and for her candidness and gave her a tiny snippet of how and why this conference spoke to the areas in my life that had remained tender for so long. Within moments, much to my surprise, Ginny responded to my message. Days later I would get a phone call that would remind me that our God orchestrates his will and his timing in miraculous and extraordinary ways.

When my phone rang and displayed the number from New Jersey, my first instinct was to let voicemail kick in , but for some reason (uh...the Holy Spirit) I felt the need to answer the call. Ginny was on the other end of the line. It seems that two of her speakers had had emergency situations arise and she was in need of a speaker to finish out the series. She told me that she had been in prayer about what to do when she heard the Lord say, "I have already provided". Isn't this just how God works? So when she asked me if I could speak on "control issues", I laughed out loud and said, "girl, I got you covered". So here goes.

 But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” 41 “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, 42 but few things are needed—or indeed only one.[a]Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:38-42

Poor Martha, she is my former soul sister. I say former because I have uttered the very same words to God. Not about my sister, I don't have one, but I have about others. "Lord, don't you see I have done, _____, _____ and _____. You need to make them______." 

"But Martha was distracted", can I tell you how this resonates with me. Martha, dear Martha reminds me so much of what I used to be. You see, we as women especially will self-impose this image of ourselves that we want others to see and believe. We use control to deliver our performance. We tend to create in our minds the expectations that we think everyone else is placing on us. From the time we are little girls, we plan the wedding, the house, the 2.5 kids. We see in our minds eye this ideal that we have for ourselves and anything less we see as failure.

My need to control came from a place of fear. Fear of what people thought of me, fear of what people thought of my family,  fear of the unknown, fear of not being validated,  fear of not measuring up to a self-imposed standard that was impossible to meet. It was common for my family to vacation with other families when my oldest two children were younger. I was always the person who had to have a plan. One family friend even called me “the General” because I always had to have a strategy.

The enemy will also use these personality flaws of ours to distract us from our purpose, He will keep us spinning in circles, Having the same discussions and arguments, doing the same seemingly good activities yet all the while the chaos whirls around us. And those messages from our lives, our pasts, from the old wounds begin to replay in our minds over and over until we will make poor choices, choices not in God's will to try to fix the chaos and silence the voices ourselves.  

My husband and I traveled weekends in a huge gas guzzling Suburban towing an equipment trailer. Also in tow were our two oldest children whom I ruled with an iron fist as I had this unrealistic idea of what the public expected to see from us and my children suffered from my need to control the picture the world saw of our family. My need for our family to appear perfect led to many arguments and much discourse in our home. Our home was the largest among the members of our family and as such was the location for all family get-togethers. Days before any occasion the house would be miserable as I had created in my mind the image of what I wanted to project to the world and you know if Mama ain't happy, ain't no body happy. On what should have been a joyous occasion, there was always an underlying current of hostility, unseen by those I wished to impress, yet certainly felt by my family. I have no problem visualizing Martha scurrying about the house barking orders to everyone who came within her path. I have seen myself do so on many occasion. 

Me, Martha and Kate...and probably many of you as well, often feel that if we have to repeat instructions once more we will scream. If we have to ask more than once we feel unappreciated or devalued. What really is someone else's attention deficit or irresponsibility is internalized and it is here the enemy begins to whisper to us. "No one values you.' "Why bother? No one even cares" "Your efforts go unnoticed."  Many times they do, many times our families do take us for-granted, but it is at this point that we must remind ourselves who God says we are. 

In 2007 my youngest child came along in a most dramatic means. Born after a complicated pregnancy, 11 weeks early and at 2 lbs, our world was turned upside down. For weeks it felt as if we were drifting upon waves at the mercy of some unknown force. Immediately following this crisis my father-in-law and I both became ill. I ended up having to have an emergency hysterectomy in Dec of 2009 and by March of 2010 my father in law had passed away. The stress of everything was more than our marriage could stand. I began to feel un appreciated and in validated.  And began to try to control and manipulate my husband even more. There was a time when I even withheld intimacy in order to try to control his actions. I had lost myself in the chaos and in looking to him for validation, in stead of Jesus, I gave the enemy a foothold into our lives.I had sacrificed my family on an alter of false pretense. 

It was at this point in 2012, that the Lord began to deal with me on my Martha tendencies. He began to show me that while the Martha's of this world are needed (let's face it, we get things done) it is okay to be Mary for a while. As a matter of fact, it is when we come and sit at his feet, just soaking in His presence that he delights in us the most. He longs for quiet times with us to communicate, to cry, to speak and listen more than even we do. As my journey continued to unfold, He would show me how the quiet time with him would become essential keep the clamor of Martha at bay. Once, unwillingly becoming a single mother the tendency to thrust headlong into duty can often become overwhelming and it is easy to slip back into those patterns as comfortably as slipping into one's most comfortable outfit. 

About a year after my husband left, my pastor sat at the alter with me and asked me a question that began to change my thinking. You see I had been standing for my marriage and my husband was about to marry someone else. My pastor looked at me and simply asked “What if?” “What if you husband doesn't come back?” “What if things don"t turn out according to your plan?” “What if God doesn't fix this?” Would you still serve him?” I had never thought about this. What if my plans were not God’s plan? This began a process of surrender for me. And surrender for a control freak is not an easy process. This was truly when the hard work began. Hope deferred had made my heart sick and shame surrounded me as I should have known better. .

You see at this point my fear had led me to the point of pride. Pride that I knew better than God and that my plans were good enough and he should just let me have my way..Now.  I even found myself trying to emotionally manipulate God himself. You know, a spiritual temper tantrum. Like a petulant child, I was holding my breath with God.

In his book Good or God, John Bevere writes “It doesn’t matter how good something looks, how happy it makes you, how much fun it is, how rich and successful you’ll become, how deeply spiritual it appears, how sensible it seems, how popular or accepted it is—and the list goes on and on. If something is contrary to the wisdom (or Word) of God, it will ultimately be detrimental and bring sorrow to your life.” In our need to control our circumstances and our impatience when God’s timing is not ours, we often settle for something we determine as good instead of  waiting for God’s best for us. It was during this time that I began in soak my self in God’s word. What did He say of me? But most importantly what was His character? 

We are quick to say that everything happens for a reason, and I do believe that this is true, but when you are the one walking this journey it is very difficult to remember this. You begin to believe it may be punishment. It is easy to allow the circumstances to overwhelm you. In the midst of your pain, it does not feel like a plan. It feels like chaos.

When your spouse chooses to leave, when the diagnosis comes, when your finances take a devastating blow, when death rears its ugly head, it does not feel like any plan you want to participate in.  When well meaning people are quick to tell you that God had this in his plan all along, you begin wondering just how much does God hate you, that this would be His plan for you. When Jeremiah 29:11 is offered to you from those that are surely well intentioned, it is easy to think surely no good can come of this.

I do not know why God chooses to intervene at times and not at others. I do not know why illnesses are not healed this side of Heaven. I do not know why once Godly people choose to walk their own paths. I cannot fathom the whys, the wheres and the hows of this mortal existence. I find it hardest to know that He is capable of all things and yet, he gives us free will instead of making us follow his plan. I understand that He wants us to choose to be obedient and to choose to be obedient out of love and not responsibility, but the Martha in me wants to go to him and say "see me", "make something happen", "fix this". 

I have had to re-train myself, when I feel the chaos emerging. I’ve had to remind myself of who God says I am. What He says about me and what He says about Himself and replace those old tapes running in my head. I have to make my self pursue quiet time with the Lord and replace the noise and clamor with His word. I must remind the myself that he calls me his beloved, I am his daughter, I am joint heirs with Jesus, I am the apple of his eye and he delights in me. He will fight my battles for me, he will be my provider and my strong tower. No one can tear me from his hand and I am called according to His purpose. 

 One of my favorite quotes comes from Beth Moore, in a teaching from the book of Mark she states, “"My freedom came from that which nearly killed me." I understand this quote all too well. You see, it was during the darkest places in my journey the Lord showed me the most grace. He showed me who I am and who He is. He also showed me there are times to be Martha, maybe not Kate, but He wants me to understand that it is his desire for me to be Mary for a while and I'm good with that. For it is within the quiet times at his feet he will provide me with all I need for the purpose which He has called me to and for just a little while, the work, the worry, the chaos will keep, but choosing to be in His presence, with him is the better thing and the peace He gives me there cannot be taken away. 

And poor Kate? I really do pray this child will find Jesus. I don't hate Kate, but I pray that Kate will, like I finally had to, come to the end of herself and choose that which is better. Can you imagine the testimony this poor child could have and the impact she could make for the Kingdom of Christ given the media exposure she currently has? Charles Spurgeon once said,  “Nothing teaches us about the preciousness of the Creator as much as when we learn the emptiness of everything else.”  Kate...sit down honey, it's time to be Mary for a while. And me, I'll be looking for those Mary moments in a Martha world.

He Has Prepared a Table Before Me

Good morning readers and Happy New Year.

 I pray 2016 is being kind to you and that the Holy Spirit is  revealing to you new and wonderful things

 I apologize for my absence, and then again, I do not. As I normally do, I began this year fasting and praying. In the last month I have begun six different writings and was not able to get through any of them. Maybe the Holy Spirit will allow me to go back and complete them, may be that I  should just delete the ghosts of blog entries past, lol. For whatever reasoning I did not feel the freedom to write during this season, but instead to be like Elijah and allow the ravens to feed me and drink from God's supply.

 I will be honest, (you know I will), I really did not like the season I just passed through. It was painful, There were things to revisit, lessons to relearn, heart ache that came in like that estranged relative who comes in and makes everything and everyone uncomfortable, perhaps bringing up past pains and hurts that have yet to be reconciled, and with their presence enshrouds the soul in a strange mixture of sadness for the days of yore and longing for some hope of a semblance of something brighter in the future. Then it lingers there until you are left wondering "Is this the new normal?" "Is this all that is left?"

I will be the first to admit too, I do not like carnival rides and an amusement park can throw me into a tailspin quickly.Once, I was dumb enough to get on a roller coaster, okay it was a very small one, but what I found is I had to go down in the dips and back up the peaks to get to the end. I may be hanging on for dear life and I may be desperately trying to hold on to my lunch along the way, but once the journey began I had to take each dip and dive to get to the end and cling to the hope that the metal and steel beneath me would be sufficient to support me along the way.

 So when I unwillingly began this journey four short, yet long years ago, I was not prepared for the roller coaster ride it would become. I tell you, if I had not been here to witness the provision of the Lord and the attacks of the enemy, I would not have believed it myself. You see, coming into this journey I had no knowledge of spiritual warfare.

 I wasn't living for the wicked one but I wasn't his enemy either. A complacent Christian is not an enemy to Satan. He doesn't care if we love Jesus as long as we don't tell anyone else about Him. As long as we sit in our pew and attend our services he is fine with that. It is when we are out being the hands and feet of Christ that the enemy is infuriated.

And in the last four years, I have infuriated him. A lot. I have not keep my mouth shut and I have not covered his workings and I have not let him defeat me. In 2012 his goal was to destroy me. He was almost successful. But God had already set a plan in motion.

"Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has demanded permission to sift you like wheat; but I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail; and you, when once you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.” Luke 22:31-32

If you have read my previous blogs, you know then that in my darkest hours the Holy Spirit has revealed to me that the enemy has tried to destroy me  to keep me from telling my story.It has also been the enemy's scheme to have me abandon my only source of strength, Christ alone.  Yet God has reassured me time and again that He has a plan to redeem those dark chapters for His Glory. 

I have found along the way that my feeble human comprehension has been naive at best. Bear with me here, I promise I'm not going too far off track. You see I thought that the ultimate goal was just getting onto that mountain top. If I could just get "there". But I have discovered so much about mountains and valleys. For a short while, the view from the top is spectacular, the air is crisp and clean, the feeling of grandeur is overwhelming and then if you are astute you begin to notice it is not enough. 

Do you know those people who never have to eat? You know those people, they seem to run on oxygen alone. They may nibble of things every now and then, they may keep their coffee or diet coke within in arms reach, but you have never really seen them sit down to eat a meal. Often times it is those very same people who, seemingly on the outside, have it all AND have it all together. 

Well...if you know me, I AM NOT one of those people! This gal likes her food! If you are my Facebook or Instagram friend you are mercilessly bombarded with my food pics (sorry, not sorry. Y'all need to know how to eat healthy. Wait, that's another blog) on an almost daily basis. 

The funny thing about those mountain peaks, nothing grows on a mountain top. There is no vegetation there. The rocky surface of a mountain top is constantly bombarded with wind, and rain and heat and all the elements of the natural world make a mountain top a very difficult place to live. Oh it is beautiful while you are there, and mountain tops have their purpose, but the mountain top cannot sustain you. 

It is in the valley that the fertile land lies. It is in the valley where the rivers run, the grasses grow, the animals graze and the fruit is plentiful.  

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies: Psalm 23:5

I have also found that it is in those valleys, in the shadows of those mountains, amidst the fertile fields of knowledge and enlightenment that this is where the King prepares His banquet table. Lavishly spread with all the valley has to offer, the finest fruits, the most delicate wines, the heartiest of meats, the offerings of our toil as we labor along side the Holy Spirit. 

While we toil and labor waiting for the harvest it is easy to look longingly at the mountain top where it appears our enemy sits taunting us from the the lofty ledges and with their lofty countenance. Not unlike an arena or stadium. Yet, in actuality God has allowed them to sit in the box seats to watch in envy as we dine with Him on the plenitude that He has placed before us. 

After our labor and toil through the growing season, our God invites us to come to sit and dine. He has taken the bounty of our labor and has prepared it. I like food period, but I like good food. I am also a cook that does not like  many hands in my kitchen. So it is many times as Father is preparing our banquet, it would appear that he is distant or silent. He is preparing. He is seasoning, He is letting us baste in the lessons we have learned in the labor. He is adding in those secret spices and touches that only He can. The unseen things. You know you always have that friend or aunt or grandma who will give out that recipe, but always leaves out just a little something or secret so that yours will never be as good as theirs. 

"In the presence of mine enemies" that also means that the enemy could not  stop the Lord's plans. My enemy was right there and yet was helpless to hinder all that God was preparing for His children and now as the banquet table is set before us, all the enemy can do is watch as we feast and God's favor is lavished upon us. 

The growling and groaning of their own empty stomachs becomes the echo that reverberates back to the enemy as Father God has prepared a table before us, in their presence. The enemy only a spectator in this lavish banquet as the Heavenly Father fattens us up and prepares us for another leg of the journey. Filling us with all that is necessary to sustain us as He leads us to yet another mountain top. Christ. The water, the wine, the bread of life. 

I'm just 47. There will be more mountain tops and more valleys. There will be more roller coasters (ugh) but He is teaching me to trust in Him who will be sufficient to hold me up and support me along the way. He will labor with me in the valley, He will prepare my tables and fatten me for sufficiency on the mountain. He will lead me where He wants me to go. He will guide my path to do His work, where ever that may be. My enemies cannot stop me, they didn't send me. 

I think that will be my banner this year. They can't stop me, they didn't send me. 

If we are obedient to the Lord's call and His purpose for us, then all the enemy can do with his fiery darts is  distract us and watch from the side lines. 

The second portion of this verse promises "you anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over"  .My flesh wants to boast on the wonderful things the Lord has and is lavishly pouring out right now, of harvests not planted, of lands not toiled, of cities not built,  but I can only boast in Christ alone who has been my provider and sustainer. The enemy will just have to sit back and watch,  I hope he likes what he sees. (insert sarcasm). With my belly full, I'm off to conquer the next mountain top and just as He has been, He will be...my God, through all of it.

Colton Dixon- Through All of It

Let's just get real....

Dear readers,

Merry Christmas. Today I would like to speak to those who just do not feel all that merry. I'm just going to lay it all on the line today. I hope that is okay.

For the last few months, it has been harder and harder for me to write. Hope deferred has made this heart sick and shame has surrounded me as I should know better. I have been in what I call my Elijah season. Hiding in a cave, going through the motions day to day, taking care of the people and things entrusted to me but my heart has not been in it.

I sat down this morning, after a night of thoughts whirling through my mind. After days of pondering so much about the Christmas story.

You see, I have been on the verge of walking away. The enemy has played with my mind and emotions so much in the last few months. The messages repeatedly taunting me, "you were not good enough", "you are unlovable", "what a mess you have made", "there is no hope', "what is the use?" "look at all you did and where did it get you?", "there is no justice" and "even God has abandoned you".

It has crossed my mind on more than one occasion in the last few months to completely walk away from organized religion. Shocking? Maybe to most, but I'd be willing to venture that if truly honest, many people have felt the same way at some time.

It has even crossed my mind to completely abandon my faith. The enemy's message, "this faith that you have clung to has done you no good" and "all things work together for those you love the Lord, except me".

In the last few years I have seen the righteous fall, I have seen the self professed Godly, do the most ungodly things. I have seen those that claim Christianity ruin the lives of so many without the blink of an eye and it has made me sick and weary and question this .god that I have served. Does he care? Is he really there? How could He allow all of this and so much more?

So I entered this Christmas season trying to fill the void with all the trees and trimmings, baubles and bows, greenery and gifts. And yet nothing seemed to lift the sadness that has overwhelmed me. Please do not misunderstand me, I am more than grateful for all that I have. I love my  children dearly and the Lord has allowed me a good job and a decent home, yet in these last days I feel so much regret for wasted potential and so much sorrow for what might have been.

I have sat down several times to write to you what the Lord has been speaking to me in the last few days. Over and over in my thoughts and mind he has brought to me just how much we have gotten wrong. I'm not just talking the commercialism we will all admit has gotten out of hand, but of how we have lightened and diminished the enormity of the sacrifices made for the redemption of man.

How it was not a silent night in Bethlehem. How Mary was just a young frightened girl risking her life for a plan set in motion thousands of years before her birth. How Joseph made a choice to do the right thing when he had other choices. How Jesus left the glory and splendor of Heaven to come to Earth as the most helpless of creatures, mercifully given the gift of not remembering all that the planned entailed for just a little while. How the angels first appeared to the lowliest of an entire population to show that the plan of redemption and salvation was for all. Not just kings and queens, the educated and the lofty but for the meek simple man, men whom the whole world would pass by as insignificant. Men who spent a life of loneliness and solitude.

I have started four attempts at a Christmas message. Each is a few paragraphs in length, some a little more, but getting the words adequately on the page has been more than a struggle.

Last night in between writing I read several other blogs I follow, read a couple of devotionals and even listened to a sermon by a friend's pastor. Each with the same theme as the thoughts that have consumed me for days. We have it so wrong.

This morning I attempted two more posts and still could not get through them. Frustrated, I arose from my perch and went to linger in a hot bath. As is my ritual so often I took my mobile device with me and while soaking, I listened to last Sunday's sermon from one of my favorite preachers.

Sometimes God does intervene. If I had not slowed down for that bath, if I had gotten right into the hustle and bustle of making cookies I would not have stopped to listen to this very real, very timely, sermon that apparently I needed to hear this morning.

Perhaps some of you are where I have been this morning. there must be a reason, huh? And so today, leave you with someone else's thoughts. 30 minutes of your time is all I ask, I promise it will be worth it. Merry CHRISTmas dear friend. May the enormity of the price paid for you overwhelm you this Christmas season.

elevation church- Don't Make A Scene

This Wasn't Part of the Plan...

Good morning readers, all four of you. I'm sitting here this morning among the unfamiliar. Oh I have my fire going in the tiny little fireplace and I have my worship music in my ear buds so I do not disturb the children but the only familiar icons this Christmas are the steady Georgia rain pouring on the roof and the familiar  brown elixir  in my cup. Now, don't jump to any conclusions. In my cup  this morning in the place of my usual cream laden coffee is a cocoa cola, also as iconic and as familiar to Georgia as peaches and peanuts.

Scattered about are a few other familiar items, my great grandmother's churn and various  pottery jugs adorn the hearth, my aunt's antique tea table serves as a side table and my great grandmother's crescent  side table  is my new entry table.  The only piece of furniture from my past life , my hall tree, creamy yellow, tall in the entrance of my hallway, is the only link to my previous life in this tiny little living room. The first Christmas gift bought for me by my husband for the new house we had dreamed of for so long and finally built in 2003.  Every other piece  is new to me. Even the tree and its trimmings are new this year. Once again the precious  keepsake ornaments have been carefully and loving boxed away. It is still too painful to even unwrap them from their cocoons  of dainty white tissue paper.

New furnishings, a new tiny, cozy cottage of a house, new decorations and as I sit here in the dimly lit morning I cannot help but ask the question, "how did I get here?'. Not just to this little house, but to this life that it now appears is mine. A life as unfamiliar to me as the surroundings in which I find myself. This was not the plan.

My "plan" was to watch my children grow up in that house along side their father. My plan including many family Christmases in that big 3000 square foot house, built by my design and with alot of the work being done ourselves. The plan included the two of us sitting in our porch swing watching children and grandchildren come and go, through the years to come. But Satan had a plan as well.

And so it has been all this season, my mind and heart have been focused on the unfamiliar. The things that come up into your life  to disrupt the normal. The detours that take us down uncharted paths. The chaos that interrupts our plans.

In my mind's eye, I see poor Joseph. I see him sitting there in the dark, quiet of the stable. Mary lies at his feet, asleep from exhaustion in the soft clean straw he has just gathered for her. Cradled in her young, tiny arm, wrapped in scraps of cloth, sleeping soundly, seemingly and mercifully unaware of his destiny, the son of God, the Savior of the world, Emmanuel...God with us.

I would imagine this was a sleepless night for Joseph. The very presence of God, entrusted to his care. The look on his face one of excitement, bewilderment, fear, amazement, worry and worship all at the same time. I imagine his thoughts to be "how did I get here? "This was not the plan'

Suddenly, inconveniently just months before, his plans were interrupted and a new plan began.

" an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife; for the child who has been conceived in her is of the Holy spirit"" Matthew 1:20

A contemporary Christmas song was written years ago, it has always been one of my favorites. It's lyrics make the characters of the Christmas story seem so much more human. We tend to take our Biblical characters and give them superhero status. We forget that Joseph, the man, was just that...a man. And if Mary were here today in the same circumstances, DFACS  surely would have started an investigation by now.

The lyrics to this simple song remind me that the stories we are so detached from involved humans just like us, people with doubts, fears, dreams, hopes, insecurities and chaos.

"why me? I'm just a simple man of trade

why Him, with all the rulers in the world?

Why here, inside this stable filled with hay?

Why her, she's just an ordinary girl?

Now I'm not one to second guess what angels have to say,

but this is such a strange way to save the world"

I identify with this Joseph, the one sitting there with his head in his hands trying to absorb and make sense of all that has transpired around him. I imagine it all felt so surreal to him. He had a plan. He had chosen his bride, as was customary to his people and was waiting out the time of courtship until the day of the wedding feast. In the midst of his planning and celebration, what seems like a sucker punch to the gut. His chosen one is pregnant, it is not his child. How did I get "here"? This was not the plan.

I will never be known as the mother who did everything right and that's okay, as long as my children remember me as the mother who did the right thing. It has not been easy. To tell the truth it has been down right hard. Every morning instead of having help to get two kids out the door, its just me. Every month, instead of two salaries to pay all the bills and provide for my little family, its just mine (and while there is a tiny amount of support that comes in each month, it is not nearly enough to touch our monthly expenses). Every time one of the kids over steps their boundaries, it is I alone, who determines the consequences of their actions and when they are sick it is I alone who nurses them back to health. Now I don't say all of that to gain sympathy or put myself on a pedestal. I am in far better shape than that of some single parents on the same path. I say it simply to say this, sometimes in life our road is chosen for us and our plan is altered not of our own choosing. But like Joseph, it is the man or woman who does the right thing that has my  respect.

Joseph had a choice in all of this. His circumstances had been altered without him lifting a finger. Nothing he had done had brought him to this place. He could have walked away, he could have called off the wedding, for that matter, he could have had Mary killed, her punishment for betrayal could have been death. Yet poor Joseph was a Godly man, a man who when the Holy Father spoke to him, in the form of the angel Gabriel, chose to do what the Father asked.

And here tonight in this dark, cold, damp stable, smelling of animals and without what little comforts he would have had at home, the enormity of his earthly purpose must have shaken Joseph to his core. Can you imagine the weight that was on Joseph that night? I can. I can imagine just how overwhelming it all must have been for him. That among the blessing of being a part of the greatest story every told, the realization of his responsibility left him breathless.

When we envision the Biblical characters, we tend to forget that they too were made in the same image as we. It's easy for us to think that God told Abraham to sacrifice Issac and that Abraham had no questions, he just got up and took his son to the mountain. Or that God called Moses and that Moses, the man, didn't lay awake at night and wonder how this insurmountable task placed before him was going to come to fruition.

We sing Silent Night, Holy Night, however if we truly considered the circumstances, this night was anything but silent and holy. The little town of Bethlehem was not decorating in greenery and bows awaiting the birth of their Savior. It was a night like any other, busier than usual as the descendants of David crowded the streets from all over the realm of Herod's reign to be counted in the census. Telephones, internet and Travelocity were not in existence during this time and in this tiny town no reservations had been made in preparation. Like locusts, the droves of weary travelers descended upon a town ill prepared to accommodate them. This night would have been busy, bustling and noisy, first come first served, often is.

There was nothing Holy about this night either. We sit in our padded pews and pretty walls which we consider Holy and not unlike us, everything the people considered Holy during their time consisted in the gold and marble confines of the temples. The damp, musky, moldy and  mildewed walls of the stable, most likely carved into the rocky hillside was in complete opposition to the opulent temples where the Holy One was thought to dwell.

Even the fact that the babe was wrapped in strips of cloth was a sign that the birth itself came more quickly than either expected. Had they been expecting his birth anytime soon, there would have been blankets and provisions, or had they had time to seek out family members or friends living in the village, there would have been a midwife to help with the delivery. And yet, in here in this small cave of a stable, among the dirt and the dung, sat Joseph, watching his young wife sleep, the son of God sleeping soundly beside her in a town that had no room for the one who came to save it inhabitants. This was not the plan.

It would not be far fetched to imagine that Joseph felt like a failure.

Joseph knew that his plan was not coming along as he had hoped.

We are quick to say that everything happens for a reason, and I do believe that this is true, but when you are the one walking this journey it is very difficult to remember this. You begin to believe it may be punishment. It is easy to allow the circumstances to overwhelm you. In the midst of your pain, it does not feel like a plan. It feels like chaos.

When your spouse chooses to leave, when the diagnosis comes, when your finances take a devastating blow, when death rears its ugly head, it does not feel like any plan you want to participate in.  When well meaning people are quick to tell you that God had this in his plan all along, you begin wondering just how much does God hate you, that this would be His plan for you. When Jeremiah 29:11 is offered to you from those that are surely well intentioned, it is easy to think surely no good can come of this.

I can imagine Joseph sitting there in the cold dark night, travel weary and worn, afraid and overwhelmed. I can see him reach into the recesses of his mind for the promises from the scriptures that he would have set to memory in his youth. I can see the tears run down his dusty cheeks, falling in droplets to the dirt floor of the cave, asking the Father, "are you sure this is the plan?" Then quietly he stokes the small fire he has built, he gathers more small pieces of wood to keep the fire burning. He feels the brow of Mary to be certain she is well, he leans close to the small infant who now is his own and  he listens for the tiny breaths like all new fathers do. He settles himself back down to watch over his new family and his choice is made.

This will not be easy, in fact, it will be hard. This will be tumultuous. It will not end well, most likely and yet like all the men of God he is descended from, he will be obedient to the call placed upon his life. Despite his questions, despite the lack of answers, in spite of his fears he will do the right thing. He will obey the voice of the Lord and trust that while this was not in his plans, the Father had set a plan in motion. One prayer, one act of obedience at a time the promise will unfold for Joseph and his little family.

And so dear friends, here we are, another Christmas. For many of us we find ourselves on journeys we did not plan. For many of us, the path we are on is not one we would have chosen and it is hard to see how good can come from our circumstances and that is okay for today. It is okay if we don't have it all figured out. It is okay to be human and feel what we feel.... our God understands this. He understands the doubt, the fears, the bewilderment we experience when our surroundings are unfamiliar to us. He understands the questions after all it is He who created us, formed in His image.

Our part of the plan? Like Joseph, to heed the voice of the Lord. To be obedient to His voice. To do what is right, when another path seems so much better and so much easier. To trust that ultimately, He, the Father,  does have a plan of redemption for those who are faithful to His call. This morning I am overwhelmed by the knowledge that God will honor our obedience just as he did noble Joseph. The Glory of Heaven came to Earth, in human form, entrusted to a lowly carpenter for just a little while. An earthly father, chose do that which God deemed right, though  it wasn't in his plans. 

Joseph's Lullaby- Mercy Me

From one little snowflake, a mighty avalanche grows.

Oh, wash yourselves! Be clean! Let me no longer see you doing all these wicked things; quit your evil ways.  Learn to do good, to be fair, and to help the poor, the fatherless, and widows.

Come, let’s talk this over, says the Lord; no matter how deep the stain of your sins, I can take it out and make you as clean as freshly fallen snow. Even if you are stained as red as crimson, I can make you white as wool!  If you will only let me help you, if you will only obey, then I will make you rich!  But if you keep on turning your backs and refusing to listen to me, you will be killed by your enemies; I, the Lord, have spoken. Isaiah 1:16-20

I have never been one to be a big collector of themed items. Okay, there was the unfortunate unicorn phase of the 80s and the cliche Gone With the Wind phase of the 90s, but in my defense, it wasn't really me collecting them, most were gifts from people who knew I liked them. So it has never been my practice to really create themed Christmas decor.

 My kids have usually had their favorite things on their trees. John Paul had the GA Bulldog tree for a while, Chrissi's tree was a mixture of the obligatory girlie Barbie, Disney Princesses and Wizard of Oz. Stanley Chris has always loved wild life and then there was the tree of hunting and fishing decor in the upstairs living room in our old house. For the most part, however, Christmas decor was a mixture of what ever shiny object, bauble or ball caught my attention.

 For the last four years, I'll just be honest, if I had not had small children, I would have skipped Christmas and hopped a plane to the nearest warm climate at 3:45 on the last day of school before Christmas break, only to return the night before the first day of school in January with a nice tan.

This year my children  and I have finally begun to get into the spirit of decorating again. And I must make another confession, I have overspent incredibly this year on new Christmas decor. I hang my head in shame (insert shameless snicker here) somehow I do not know that we will ever be able to unwrap the treasured yet painful memories of Christmases past in the form of delicate ornaments that were collected for 20 years. The stories collected with them are bittersweet reminders of empty spaces and empty places that may never be filled again.

I began my morning as I often do on Saturdays and days off. A cup of coffee, a fire in the fireplace and my devotions. I go to my social media and visit the devotional pages I frequent there as well. My friend Troy Davis has posted a good word this morning (I always enjoy reading his posts and those of his wife Shannon. There is much truth, learned the hard way, as mine was, in their posts)

This morning Troy is discussing the little sins. I sit here in the early morning and my heart and mind begins to ponder his words. I look around my dimly lit little living room, the one that I would not even possess if it had not been for those little sins. (you can scratch your head here, I promise I will get to the point in a moment) Here in this cozy little space we are decorated for Christmas. Hanging from the tree and from the mantle this year, we once again have a theme, purely unintentional I promise, yet a significant life lesson.

The theme this year? Snowflakes

So now you may ask, "what do snowflakes and sin have in common?" I'm so glad you asked.

Troy's post was on how even a "little sin" can separate us from God and how sinful patterns are dangerous.

Now if you know me at all, you know that I am NOT a cold weather girl, but I do love a good snowfall. For about a day, then I'm over it. But.... did you know that it is estimated that there are over 1 billion crystals in a cubic foot of snow? That's a lot of ice....Brrrrrrrr!

My northern friends know just how dangerous cubic foot after cubic foot of the beautiful, fluffy white layers of ice can be. In March of 1973 and 1994, we here in central Georgia experienced a relatively small experience of what an accumulation of snow can do. For days our worlds came to a stand still as we all stood in wonder, trying to figure out how to get out of this mess we were in.

So it is with the sin that so often separates us from our Heavenly Father. Often times it begins with something that may not even appear to be sin or something we can easily justify and rationalize away, yet left unrepented it can escalate into an unrecognizable and overwhelming situation before we know it. We can find ourselves in situations that we would never have thought ourselves capable of. The enemy's plan is complete in one small act of disobedience.

Our enemy has one purpose, that is to destroy the Kingdom of Christ and he does this one person, one family, one church at a time. As we look around in the media and even in the pews of our churches, where families once filled the empty seats, it would be easy to believe that the enemy is winning.

I fully believe that those of us who have had a true salvation experience with Christ are granted the indwelling of the Holy Spirit and I believe that He  will warn and convict us at the thought of any "tiny sin" that may open the door for destruction and damage down the road. The enemy of our souls does his best to speak lies to our circumstances and all he has to do is great doubt.

The very first sin began in this way. In Genesis we have all heard the story of the fall since childhood. Even the unbeliever is familiar with the story of Eve and the serpent. God had commanded Adam to eat of all the trees of the garden with the exception of one. There are over 2500 known species of fruit bearing tree in the world today, so it is safe to assume that each would have been present at the creation of the the Earth. Adam as the head of his home has passed this knowledge to his wife Eve. Each have been told that surely they will die if they partake of this tree, never understanding that death would not be immediate, but eventual.

In John Bevere's book Good or God, he delves into the truth that often times sin appears to us as something good and that our enemy presents sin wrap in a pretty package, a possibility of all that we think we desire and doubt begins to form. We begin to trust our own judgement and latch on to what we deem as good, while what we really need to do is wait for God's best.

This one event sent the couple, who walked daily with God himself, (the only two mortals to have been granted the earthly privilege of looking into his face) spiraling into the very first family mini drama. Think about it, The Kardasians had nothing on this family, Genoa City couldn't hold a candle to the land just outside the Garden. Eve, the first "Real Housewife" began a landslide for her family, and the rest of mankind, that could easily have been avoided. One generation later and we see greed, envy, murder, and deceit enter into the world and so it has been ever since.

One tiny sin...pride. The tiny sin that can separate us all from the Father. The sin that leads to all others. In this one moment, Eve thought she knew better than God and in the moments when we choose to ignore the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit, we are saying in essence that we know better than God and we are willing to accept temporary good in the place of His plan.

I have seen this play out in my life all too painfully and it is with deep regret that I would beg the reader standing on the edge of decision to heed the nudging of the Holy Spirit to turn from, confess, repent this tiny sin that like one small snowflake can accumulate, easily and inevitably, until you are left standing blindly in a blizzard of sin, shivering in the cold recognition that you do not know exactly how you got here in this place so far from the promise. One tiny sin can begin a storm that leaves you trembling hopelessly, stumbling in hapless direction, aimlessly make one more poor decision after another until it seems that all hope is lost.

Pile one blizzard onto another and another. Add a hillside and one small catalyst and you will have an avalanche. One tiny sin can lead to an avalanche of sins that leaves us unrecognizable, can change us in ways we never thought. Can alter our landscape until it seems our story is nonredeemable.

In 1962 , the largest avalanche ever recorded occurred in the country of Peru. The ice cap of a mountain, Huascaran, Peru's highest summit at 6768 meters, broke away creating an avalanche that dropped 13,900 feet. It traveled for 9 miles until it reached a tiny town of 6000. Rescuers searched for days in the devastation only to find body after body. The landscape changed for ever. All signs of life gone in an instant. There were no survivors.

I think back to a movie that I once saw, One of the Love's Journey movies. In the scene, a violent and sudden blizzard begins while Marty, the heroine of the movie is out on a bluff praying. In the scene, though she is not far from the warmth of her own cabin, the snowflakes are circling, whirling crazily around her to the point that she cannot even see inches in front of her. She has lost her way in the circumstances. Her husband has gone out to search for her and he too becomes lost in the thick white mass of ice hanging in the air. Realizing that her parents are not coming back quickly the daughter goes to the cabin door and begins banging on a pot, giving them a point to focus on in the blinding blizzard so that they may reach home safely again.

One thing the enemy never counted on....generations later, the Son of God, who had been there at the time of creation, came to Earth as redemption's plan. The babe lying in a manger, whose sole purpose was and is to redeem the lost. To right the wrong. To shepherd His own to eternal life with Him.


This is not your warm fuzzy, feel good Christmas blog, just a sincere plea from one who has personally experienced the devastation of one tiny sin. My landscape forever changed by the choices of myself and others. As we begin this holiday season, if this is you this season dear friend. If you find yourself on the edge of a decision that the enemy is telling you is okay. If you have settled for the world's good instead of God's best. If you find yourself stumbling blindly in the midst of a storm caused by one tiny sin, I urge you to find your focus. Heed the voice of the Holy Spirit, surrender it to Jesus. Let Him lead you back home.

Chris Tomlin- Come Home Running

Just Get Me To Jesus!

It was a Thursday night. I don't normally sing on Thursday nights. Sometimes we practice on Thursdays, but we usually do not do a concert. Between work, and homework, dinner and baths, weekdays are all too hectic to do many concerts on a week night. As I drove to the church, miles from my new home, I was tired and worn from a day of work and from arguing with my teenager over the time of curfew on this particular night, as it was a homecoming night at school and apparently there were houses to be rolled. (BTW, whoever got mine, I know where you go to school...I probably know where you live, lol)

Rain had set in about 4:30 this afternoon. Not a downpour, but enough to be inconvenient. I don't know about you but I equate a rainy evening with my sweatpants, a ponytail and a comfy chair. So, if you get my drift...I really wasn't feelin' it.

Don't get me wrong, I love singing for the Lord's purpose, but this night I just had so many things on my mind, and heart and agenda. One thing that did make me grumble a little less was that this concert was a fundraiser for a young girl whom we have known since she and my oldest were kindergarten classmates. They may or may not have even been grade school sweethearts at one time. I have worked with her dad and her mom is my banker. This young lady, at the tender age of 23 has been diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer. So that night we did not only sing for the Glory of the Lord, but to raise money to help Rachel with her medical bills.

The sing went a little over the allotted time. It's hard to gauge a person's reactions sometimes. Sometimes it shows all over their faces. There are those that you know just love it. They are the ones, smiling, clapping, maybe singing along. There are those you are sure are only there out of a since of responsibility or perhaps they lost a bet, who knows, but their demeanor is of one less than enthusiasm. Then there are those that you just cannot gauge at all.

There was this one elderly gentleman in the crowd tonight. Many times he leaned over and spoke to the lady next to him. One minute it appeared he was not enjoying himself and then the next he appeared to immensely enjoy what he heard. He was hard to read.

Usually when singing or speaking, I will pick out faces on both sides of the center aisle. I'll look for the person who is smiling, or crying or who when my eyes land on their eyes, the Holy Spirit nudges and gently says "this one".  There have been times that I take the hardest looking face in the room and will bring my gaze back to that one individual to see if my smile will make them smile. Sometimes, I'm successful, sometimes it is futile effort.

Two verses and a chorus of Just As I Am then ending with One More River to Cross, I returned to my seat to help my eight year old clean up his Legos and prepare for the ride home. I feel a body sit down next to mine and the next thing I feel is a hand over mine and a whisper at my ear. "Young Lady, are you spirit filled?"

It is the elderly gentleman. My singing didn't run him off after all. Now, I will admit, this is not a question that I get very often, but it does come up more now than ever.

You see, I've been doing this singing thing for quite a while. For many years, my husband and I had a group. We were quite popular in our area, probably one of the most popular and most used groups in our area. We had even branched out into South Carolina, Tennessee and Florida. I do not say that boasting in myself, but only in the Lord. We had a good following.

We were incredibly blessed, incredibly arrogant and incredibly misleading. Oh, there was a time when our efforts were well-intentioned and pure. There was a time when we believed it was all about Jesus, but there was also a time that it became about men's acclaim and notoriety. We sang of this Jesus, we served in His name, but we really did not know Him, and while we fooled ourselves we could not fool the enemy of our souls and he used this fact to steal, kill and destroy our family.

So when this gentleman asks me this, I simply say, "yes sir". Now, here is the hard part. He then asks me how frequent had it been. The Lord keeps me humble by presenting  me opportunity to share my testimony. It is a story of victory through and by the blood of Jesus, but at the same time it is a story of regret that is my cross to bear.

In March of 2012, the Holy Spirit had been dealing with me for a couple of months, but it was at this point that I completely surrendered everything to him. From that point on, my transformation began.

When Jesus returned to Capernaum several days later, the news spread quickly that he was back home. Soon the house where he was staying was so packed with visitors that there was no more room, even outside the door. While he was preaching God’s word to them, four men arrived carrying a paralyzed man on a mat. They couldn’t bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, so they dug a hole through the roof above his head. Then they lowered the man on his mat, right down in front of Jesus. Seeing their faith, Jesus said to the paralyzed man, “My child, your sins are forgiven.” Mark 2:1-5

In the days this story was occurring, it was customary for housing to be built of clay, brick and mortar. We tend to consider any ancient structures to have thatch roofs or makeshift walls, but this was not the case. The same handmade clay bricks would have formed the roof as formed the walls of the house. Tiles would have been aligned over the top to prevent damage and erosion from wind and rain. Understanding this, it is not far-fetched to say that the men dug into no less than a foot of cinder block. 

Now envision this, the paralytic, not being able to transport himself to the roof top, must be carried or raised there by a pulley system to even get him onto the roof. This could have been no less than a major feat of stamina and strength itself and now, they begin to remove tiles of heavy clay. They then begin to chip away at the block and mortar that is this roof. Y'all, that's thicker than a paved road! 

These men are desperate! They have to get their friend to Jesus! 

In the Gospels we also read of a woman desperate for healing. She has had an issue of blood for 12 years. Now hold on! I know women who can't get out of the bed 7 days a month, but this woman has had this issue 12 years! Not only is she anemic, but she has subjected herself to every possible medical treatment that money can buy and you know, there was no anesthesia back then, no epidural, no laparoscopic surgery. This woman has not only suffered from her disease, but she has also suffered from her cure. As one that has had to overcome many medical obstacles myself, I can testify that sometimes the cure itself is worse than the thing you are trying to cure.

But that is not all, she does not even live in the town where she finds Jesus, so she has had to travel in her weak and unhealthy state. Once she finally gets into the general vicinity of he and his followers, the area is incredibly crowded. The accounts say she "pressed" through the crowds. In my mind, I see her making intentional, deliberate, desperate and enormous effort to get to where he is. "if I could just touch but the hem of his garment". 

Do you get what she is saying? She is so desperate, that she believes that He doesn't have to pray over her or lay hands on her, nor does he have to give her some rote prayer to pray, speak in tongues over her or give her a word. If she could just touch the hem of his garment. The the lowest point of his person. This woman is crawling on the ground, in the midst of this crowd. As if this is not enough, everyone in this town knows who she is and what is wrong with her. The fence row gossips and the synagogue sisters have spread the word, she is not clean.  She would have had to walk through the crowds, crying "unclean" to make those around her who did not know her of her condition aware of her presence. She is risking her own life. 

She also risks the life and the reputation of the Messiah. He is a man on a mission, one that would have officially belong to a Pharisee. He is on the way to bed side of a dying girl. Acting in this capacity he is expected to be clean, pure and yet on his way the hem of his garment is touched by one considered to be unclean. In one desperate act her fingertips brush the lowest part of his person and she is made whole. In this lowly state her actions could easily have been overlooked in the crowd, yet Jesus turns and calls her out. Not to embarrass her but to restore her. Not just physically, but emotionally and he also restores her standing among her peers. When he calls her daughter he restores her reputation in the community. In an instant her desperation has been her deliverance and the one she is desperate for has become her deliverer. Years of shame fall in this moment and finally everything she has lost, been separated from, everything her illness and the enemy took from her are restored. Once again she can touch her children, she can enter her home with her loved ones, she can sit a table with friends, she can enter the courtyard of women to give thanks to the one man, the only man who had the power to bring her peace and wholeness and to take the broken pieces of her life and make them new again. 

Jairus, has summons Jesus to his home. He is a father, desperate to save his child. This desperate father, though, held station in this town. He is described in Luke as the "ruler of the synagogue" and though he is not a priest, it was most likely his job to oversee the business of the local synagogue. As such, the appointment would have fallen to him to keep order in the house of God. In his plea to have Jesus come, he has just committed an incredible act of chaos. The religious rulers have all put imprisoned Christ for speaking in the local temple and in every town he continues to anger the governing body of the temple. His ways are not orthodox and he appears to have no regard for their man made laws and traditions. 

Jairus is a man so desperate for the touch of the Messiah that he is willing to risk his position, his livelihood, his reputation to save his daughter. 

It was in the most desperate situation of my life that the Lord chose to restore me. In my desperation, I reached out for the Lord. It was not easy either. I had my roof to dig through, I had my twelve miles to crawl, I had my reputation on the line.

 I found myself lying on a mat, relying on friends to pray for me and help take care of my family. There were times I had to depend on the prayers of the warriors surrounding me because I could not break through on my own, my faith was just not strong enough.

 I found myself lying in the dust, a broken and bleeding soul crying out desperately to a God that I was not even sure would even  know that I was there. Trampled, unclean, tired, dying inside I just needed one touch, one word...just to hear Him call me daughter again. 

I found myself desperate enough to risk losing everything. Broken, abandoned, willing to be exposed to be healed I lost so much in an instant. With one confession all that I had known was over. Like Jairus, I had no idea if I would ever be able to walk into the temple again and yet the Lord had much more for me. Like Jairus' daughter He raised me from the dead. Years of death slumber erased in a moment of faith. 

It took the greatest tragedy of my life to bring me to honesty with myself, my family and the Holy Spirit. I had to be broken and spilled out to finally surrender to His will. We sing a song most frequently performed by the Issacs. It is entitled Honestly. The message in the song is quite a powerful one. It speaks of that desperation only known to the soul that recognizes that there is no other hope than Jesus. That desperation that I felt not so long ago that this man I had sang of, sang in the name of, was the only hope for my sin sick soul. Battered, broken, deliberately I just had to get to Jesus. I am grateful that He was there waiting for me.How can I say that after all the pain? Because just like the man lowered through the roof, the woman with the issue of blood, Jairus's daughter, my name may never be known throughout the Earth. Yet when I finally dug, crawled, risked getting into His presence I was never the same again. And just as he did for each of these, He called me by another name, one that is written in His book of Life...he called me His child, His daughter.  

The old man recognized nothing about me. He recognized that I had been with Jesus. Is there anything better to be known for? 

So tonight my friend I leave you with a dangerous challenge, it is not one to enter into lightly. It is not a challenge for the meek or faint of heart. I leave you to this, seek His presence now, before you must seek him in desperation. Get honest with yourself and your Savior. Just get to Jesus! You'll be glad you did. 

The newest single from my friends, the Bowling Family featuring Hope: One Glorious Moment of Faith