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Showing posts from May, 2011

Wounded Soldier

He lays on the ground, paralyzed by pain. He tries to rise, but is instantly grounded. The battle continues around him, yet he hears nothing. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to move. It hurts to feel anything other than the piercing stabs of his wounds. A few weeks back I was reminded of a saying I once heard: "There are no sidelines on a battlefield." That image has always stuck in my head because I felt is was a perfect depiction of the spiritual war that goes on around us every day. I often forget how very REAL that is. Oh, it's clear what team I'm on. I will sport the Jesus jersey on my side of the field, paint some faces, even make up my own chants, but I would definitely say I've never been an aggressive warrior on that battlefield. In all honesty I'm probably more of the All-Star Cheerleader.....a part of the team, cheering them on, trying to make a sideline while I let to tough ones do the real fighting, only getting in the game when the ball is thrown m

Laura Story

The other day I was driving in the car with the kids....excuse being to get lunch, reason being a needed sanity break. Sometimes it takes me getting out of the mess, the closed in walls, the constant destruction the new house takes daily, to catch my breath. So I drove, rolled the windows down, turned the music up, and let my soul breathe. As this particular song (which musically is not quite my taste) came on the radio, I began to reach down and change the station. Something, however, caught my attention.....I did that "thing" I do....and really started listening to the lyrics. That was all it took. After getting home, eating lunch, and putting my two boys down, I decided to go to the computer to look up the song and really read the lyrics. Before I knew it, I was the only one awake, sitting infront of a computer screen, with tears rolling down my cheeks. Blessings by Laura Story . Laura Story. This song could not have been more "Laura's" story if I had written

Grumbling

For several months I have been following the blog of a 33 year old mother of three (the third which is now in Heaven) who has been diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. Her story is unbelievable....truly heartbreaking, yet her faith is amazing....intoxicating. I encourage you to read her story and follow her blog. Her post today, however, is one that has left me in much reflection. http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/sarawalker Sara brings up the subject of grumbling and wonders if God ever gets angry with all of our "grumbling?" She talks about how she grumbles a lot about how terrible she feels after chemo rather than simply being thankful that God has provided medicine to treat the disease. I think we would all agree that a little grumbling there should be considered ok, right? If you keep reading, however, Sara then reveals the true depths of her heart. As she reads about the Israelites hard journey to the promise land, she compares her grumbling to that of the people

My Everest

There is a Thanksgiving episode of Friends where Joey convinces Monica to make a turkey even though no one else is eating it that year. Joey swears that if she will cook it, he will eat the whole thing. You see a shot of Joey, looking stuffed, sitting behind a turkey that looks completely eaten...until he turns it around and reveals the other side had not been touched. His famous quote (at least in our household)....."You are my Everest." While I have been able to jokingly use that line in many different circumstances, it proves itself most true when it comes to running. I am NOT a runner by nature. I can remember walking all of my miles in gym class with the teacher yelling for me to hurry up. I am admittedly not an athlete (I mean, come on, who has time for that? I was too busy being social!). And honestly, I just can't do it! I have never had the lungs, never had the strength, and piled behind all of those excuses, I have never had the desire. In the past two

Goodbyes

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For as long as I can remember, I have never been "good" with goodbyes, and anyone that knows me well can completely agree to that statement. Maybe it is change that I'm really not good at, because after all, a goodbye guarantees change. Maybe it is that my natural tendency is too reflect on the loss rather than gratitude for the time given. But the truth of it is that I just have a very tender heart. I'm probably not the easiest person to get to know, maybe even love (yikes, I'm going to hope that isn't true). While I am very outgoing and can pretty much talk to anyone, it takes a lot for me to open up the door of who I am in complete transparency.......knowing everything about me. And honestly, there are very few people that have come into my life who have reflected that depth of relationship with me. So when they are gone, for whatever reason, my heart grieves probably more than it should. My best friend Jessie moved back to Maryland almost 7 years a