A Wedding to Remember

We scurried down the stairwell and waited for the guys to walk past. I saw the last pair of shoes walk forward. The hallway door opened, “Okay, you’re up!” I carefully made my way to the other set of sanctuary doors. The doors in front of me opened as the music changed. I walked one foot in front of the other as the eyes of the wedding guests looked intently, anticipating the bride who would soon follow. I took my place on stage and waited as one by one each bridesmaid made her way.

It was a beautiful service. The pastor did an amazing job honoring my former roommate and dear friend as well as her now husband. When I first found out about their engagement, I couldn’t have been more excited. I was so happy I felt like I was the one getting engaged!

The day wore on and there were pictures, the announcing of the bridal party, the first dance and the cutting of the cake. I’ve attended a lot of weddings but this one struck me differently.

There is a huge difference in attending a wedding and being in the bridal party. When you’re attending you come and go and you don’t have any real obligations. But when you’re in the bridal party, you are on the inside track. It’s your job and privilege to serve the bride the best you can. It’s your job to help make it easier on her as well as support her by standing on stage. It’s a representation that you will stand alongside the couple through their thick and thin, through their sickness and health, until death do them part. You have a part to play when you’re the wedding party. Another thing is people recognize you. There is an authority that comes with it. If I were to walk up to someone and say the bride needs this, or can we have some of this or that to someone who is there to help, it gets done.

This struck me because I thought, isn’t this what we are supposed to be doing in the family of God? We have the privilege to stand beside her in the good and bad, through the thick and thin. The church is called the bride of Christ, so although we are a part of the same body, we are also to be standing with the church and serving her. And we have been given authority to do so.

On the day of my dear friend’s wedding, she was serving too. She was fixing her Dad’s suit, pinning a corsage on her mom and even putting flowers in her bridesmaid’s hair. She is so full of grace. She is so kind and always caring about others.

It was a beautiful challenge as well as encouragement to see how well things flow when we serve one another. When we put our priorities aside and help the person next to us, this honors one another as well as Jesus, our Bridegroom.

One reason I was so ecstatic to be there was that is what my friend did for me. I felt like in a small way, I was able to give back a little. She has been a constant support for me. I even had to bail on our living arrangements and she said, “It’s okay, you just take care of yourself” that meant she’d have to find someone to fill my spot or pay extra out of pocket, but she never complained or got upset at me. She was also the only person I was able to talk on the phone with when my Dad passed away. She inspires me to love, give and serve others as Christ has done for us.

“…just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Matthew 20:28

Today my challenge is to give, to serve and to love deeply. Look for someone who is growing weary, or pray for someone that you thought of, give a kind word or write a card. Life is short and it is only truly lived out as we give!

Song of the week (This song my family used to sing in our devotion time): Make Me A Servant

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Who Is Writing Your Story?

I sat in church yesterday as the pastor stood up and gave an invitation.  He said, “When will your story become His?” That struck me. To me that sounded like an invitation for everyone.

Isn’t making His story our story an ongoing process?

I know I wrestle with how God writes stories. I have and do wrestle with how He’s been writing mine.

I can get stuck on asking “why?”. Why is this chapter of my life so difficult? Why can’t there be an end to this? Why has this or that not happened? I sometimes wonder if I am doing something wrong.

About a week ago, I saw a video by Michelle Qureshi. If you don’t know, she is the widow of Nabeel Qureshi, a well-known author, and apologist. He passed away last month at age 34 from stomach cancer. Together, they have a 2-year-old daughter. In the video, Michelle said, “I wrestle with why God chose this, but then I’m reminded that I probably still wouldn’t understand all this because I have a finite mind”.

Today I came across John 16:12. Jesus is telling his disciples about him leaving and how the Holy Spirit will come. But the disciples still don’t quite understand. Verse 12 says, “I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear”

Michelle was right. Oftentimes God’s story doesn’t make sense and we cannot bear it all at once. Because God created us, He knows how much we can handle.

Let’s be honest: God’s story often requires us to walk on difficult roads.

If we are called to walk as Jesus walked (1st John 2:6) our story will be hard. I’ve been reading the Insanity of Obedience by Nik Ripken and he frequently quotes Matthew 10:16, “”I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore, be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves.”

“Sheep among wolves?? That sounds like a losing battle to me.

Jesus is described as the Lamb of God in John 1:29. Jesus is described in other names, but when it comes to being a sheep, He set the example for us. When tribulations come, when suffering comes, I can look to the Lamb of God who blazed the trail before me. This life is not easy and there will be trouble. There will be heartache. We will be sheep among wolves. Sometimes, part of me wants to be like Jesus, you could just take me out of here whenever (sooner often sounds better than later), but in John 17:12 Jesus prays this, “My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one.”

There is a purpose for all this- even if you or I cannot see it right now.

In my search about the Lamb of God, I remembered in Revelation 12:11 it says, “And they overcame him because of the blood of the Lamb and because of the word of their testimony, and they did not love their life even when faced with death.”

It doesn’t say, “And they (believers) overcame him (Satan) by the blood of Lion of Judah, or the blood of the King of Kings, or the blood of the Lord of Lords”. No, it says, “by the blood of the Lamb”

Jesus was gentle and kind in the midst of suffering. He, as the Lamb of God, set a precedent for us sheep to follow. His story looks like he lost. His story looks like life and people got the best of him. It looked like Satan won, but he didn’t.

Revelation 17:14 says, “These will wage war against the Lamb, and the Lamb will overcome them, because He is Lord of lords and King of kings, and those who are with Him are the called and chosen and faithful.”

It’s by the blood of the Lamb that we overcome.

This side of eternity, our stories may look like we’ve lost. But in Romans 8:18 it says, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” There’s a better story coming, that we cannot even compare to our story now.

So, as a human, I will wrestle. Yet, my prayer is for God to write His story for my life. As challenging as it might be it will be worth it. It will be a story of overcoming. Everyone loves the underdog story. Everyone loves a comeback story, and being a sheep among wolves would definitely fit into that category.

If we’re going to let God write our story, we’ve got to surrender the pen.

 

Song of the Week: Write Your Story, by Francesca Battistelli

Life Lessons From Sparring

I suited up as I do semi-frequently on Tuesday nights. I put on my chest guard, boots, gloves, mouth piece and helmet. I got out on the the floor and warmed up with one of the 2nd degree black belts.

It was sparring night. But this night left me with a picture that I can’t seem to get out of my head.  

After warming up with this particular black belt, I started sparring with her. I kept getting nailed in the head. I would try to block the hits, but after the first punches, I’d find myself a little discombobulated. I was having a hard time adjusting myself to get on top.

After this fight, my instructor said I should spar another 2nd degree black belt. I really didn’t want to because I find him intimidating.

The sparring began and sure enough I kept getting hit in the head- one hit, another, then another. I’d get to the point where I’d turn my head because I didn’t know what else to do. And, I was getting weary of getting hit. This 2nd degree said, “stop looking away, you’ll end up hurt”

I looked back to see everyone in my class watching this fight. My instructor spoke up and said, “Christi, when you keep getting hit, you have to lean in and grab your opponent”

It’s against natural instincts to lean into someone whose throwing punches. Our first reaction is to turn or to run away. However, since my instruction is a 5th degree black belt, I did what he said.

The sparring resumed and the punches started coming. Before I got discombobulated, I leaned in, rested my head on my opponents shoulder and held on. By doing that, I could no longer get hit. The punches seized. But it was as though we were wrestling. This 2nd degree black belt didn’t want to be held down and I didn’t want anymore shots to the head. We were fighting for our own wills.

I felt like that has been a picture of the past few years. It has felt like one punch after the next. I want to flee , but I know I can’t, and yet, I don’t know how to respond.

If I’m being honest, my first reaction, to the loss of my Dad, wasn’t to lean into the punches. I believe everything that happens in life goes through the hands of a sovereign God. So the punches that have taken place went through His hands before they hit me.

The first reaction I had was shock. I was (and am) discombobulated by this punch. But before and after my Dad there have been more punches. But this picture of that night in sparring keeps coming back to me…

I need to lean in. I’ve needed to wrestle with questions. Why? What’s the purpose for all this pain? Why so much heartache? Why so many closed doors? Why the standstill? Whose benefiting from all this grief?

I feel as though I’ve been holding on trying to shake God for some kind of sense for the loss of my Dad. I haven’t been able to say much, and when you’re grabbing your opponent, you don’t speak. You’re just trying to regain your composure from the blows you’ve taken. You’re trying to survive. It’s your strength against your opponents.

This past week I also remembered the fight doesn’t end by hanging on. You cannot win a fight by clinging on to your opponent. You’ll get called out. You have to let go and get back into the fight.

But, hanging on and leaning in is still apart of the fight. Every relationship will go through ups and downs. The same is true for our relationship with God. Tough things happen and we need to wrestle through them. I would be lying if I said, I haven’t been struggling. I’d be lying if I told you I haven’t doubted that any good would come from this. I would be lying if I told you I haven’t felt like giving up. I would be lying if I told you I haven’t had some days when I don’t want to get out of bed.

As I write this I’m reminded of Peter in Matthew 26:35. “But Peter declared, ‘Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.’ And all the other disciples said the same.” The next day, Peter denied Jesus.

Death and suffering changes people. Peter thought he could be a disciple of Jesus on his own. I think, subconsciously or even consciously, I did too.

Things started changing in my heart about a week ago when I realized I didn’t have enough to get me through. I was keeping God at a distance. Attempting to hold Him like I had in sparring. I don’t want anymore hits. I can’t take another blow. I was falling into a deeper and darker hole. Until the thought popped into my head, “You don’t have enough faith”.
And it is true…

1st Timothy 2:13
if we are faithless, he remains faithful, for he cannot disown himself. 
I can do nothing on my own, I cannot handle this loss alone. I cannot handle closed doors alone, but God never asked me to. He said to come to Him. Lay it down. Cry it out and walk with Him. So, I started waking up and asking for help. After that, I read one verse. My mind can’t process a whole chapter at the moment, bug I can hold on to a verse.

I also think it’s okay to wrestle with God and wrestle with the questions. Life is hard and this side of eternity some thing will not make sense to us. In Genesis 32 Jacob wrestled with God. In verse 28 it says, “Then the man said,’Your name will not longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome’”

  • I looked up the word overcome and it means: “to prevail, endure, have power, be able” 
  • I also looked up Israel and it means, “God Prevails” 

At the end of the day, I am human. I’ve struggled with being on this road that God has allowed me to be on. But struggling and giving up are two different things. Because God has not given up on me and gives me everything I need when I ask, I can keep putting one foot in front of the other.


“When God calls us to wrestle with him, there’s always more going on than we first understand and God always uses it to transform us for good.” -Jon Bloom

The truth of the matter is, I am in a battle and it’s not against God. Yet, sometimes I wrestle with God’s will because, if I’m being honest, right now, I don’t really like it. But the more I try and fight for my will the more miserable I become.

As hard as it has been I do pray that just like in Jacob’s case, God prevails in my life. He knows what He’s doing and knows the plans and I do not. For now, I will keep waking up and asking for help because I cannot do it on my own.
Song of the week: You Pursue, by Out of the Dust

You Are No One’s Number One

A few weeks ago my long time friend, Rachel Storey, asked me if she could write for my blog still. I believe I asked her a while back and because she is incredible (teaching full time, studying to get her masters, and very involved at her church) she didn’t have much free time. I said yes. One thing I admire about Rachel is that she is always striving to do and be better- wherever she is. She also has had a few tough blows and she keeps pressing on. She is one of my dearest friend and I’m grateful for her writing this blog. ______________________________________

You are no one’s number one. 

I can remember the exact moment this was whispered to me, by me, probably fact checked by Satan. My mother, my sister and I had just found out my father had died after being struck by a car. Within minutes, maybe seconds, of hearing the news I knew I would need to take care of my mom and sister and be strong for them. So that’s what I did. I hugged them, I prayed, and I began planning for our trip to South Florida for my father’s memorial service. All the while, this thought was nagging me at any open moment. 
You are no one’s first priority.
 The truth is, I’m not. I don’t have someone to share the journey of life with. I am single and I always have been. I’ve never been married, I’ve never had a boyfriend, I have never dated anyone, I’ve never been asked out on a date, and I have never been kissed. Seriously. Nothing. Did I mention I am 30? I’ve been waiting for quite some time now. All of this isn’t for lack of trying. I have tried my best to be available and give chosen men the greenlight, but they didn’t move forward. Some made a right or left at the intersection where we met and were polite and declined with kind words. The worst ones made illegal u-turn’s into the opposite direction and didn’t bother to respond at all. Even if the greenlight was in their face and people behind them were honking to let them know it was there. I have even tried online dating but nothing happened there as well. It didn’t seem natural and I received messages from creepy older men who I am not sure how they found my street at all.
This constant state of rejection leads me to thinking something must be wrong with me. Is it my weight? If so, how shallow are these men? Is my past of being sexually abused written on my forehead? If so, don’t they know it wasn’t my fault and God actually protected me and that I am not damaged because He is the one who redeems? Is it because no one would describe me as being meek and mild? If it is that last one, y’all need to read the Bible some more and discover all the loud and powerful women in it.
I write all of this because I need to show some vulnerability and be truthful for you to truly understand that my interests, feelings, concerns, hopes, dreams, good days and bad days are not on the thoughts of any man. This is most evident when various struggles enter my life. It has become more and more evident over this past year since my father died.

I struggled with my grief a lot in the following months after his death. I was reminded of a lot of things my father wouldn’t have the opportunity to do like attending a possible wedding and husband or grandchildren to meet. I don’t express my emotions outwardly often, but experiencing a death so close to me changed that for a while. I found myself bothered by things that didn’t usually bother me and crying at the oddest moments in front of people I didn’t want to cry in front of. I joined a Grief Share recovery group to help with this but I was constantly reminded everywhere I went that I had no one who looked out for my needs or knew me so intimately the way a husband would. I had never felt so alone before, and Satan took advantage of that. He led me to believe I was unwanted, unloved, and uncared for.
On top of all of these emotions, I was dealing with what I have always dealt with. Desiring to be married and have a spouse is often seen as a selfish and desperate desire, especially in the Christian world. It is okay to desire a promotion, a new career, pregnancy, a baby, etc. It is not wrong or easier to desire those things. It is not wrong to desire anything God meant as good for your life. But when you say you desire marriage and the intimacy that comes with it, people often see you as weak and desperate and selfish and unsatisfied with your life. All because of the desire for something God designed and created. God is the one who decided that it was not good for man to be alone. And when Adam had seen Eve he proclaimed that she was the bone of his bone and the flesh of his flesh. God had given him what he may not even be sure he desired. It is not wrong for me or for any other person to desire a marriage designed by God. But when I share this desire, I am met with these usual phrases:

 

“Oh trust me, marriage isn’t easy.” Well, duh.

 

“You’d want to be alone if you were married someone like my husband.” Did you really just say that?

 

“You’re better off single, trust me.” Why are you married?

 

“It will happen for you someday.” You should stop telling people that because you can’t guarantee it.

 

“Singleness is a gift from God.” Sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes.

 

Marriage isn’t for everyone. In 1 Corinthians 7, Paul talks about what I like to call “Single Life Swag.” He advises the singles and widows to stay unmarried as he is because life is simpler that way. He also expresses that the same way marriage isn’t for everyone, single life swag isn’t for everyone as well. I have often wondered and prayed about if I have single life swag. I do know that being single makes life simpler. In fact, I remind myself of this when I begin to feel lonely or hyper focused on the fact that I am not married. Because I am single, I can spend all day Sunday serving the youth at my church. Because I am single, I don’t have to run any vacation or trip ideas by another person. Because I am single, I can devote a lot of time to students at work. Because I am single, I get to choose how to spend my days and devote many of them to learning more about God.

 

I have an amazing life as a single person, a life that I love. But because I am a human who can feel many things at once; those amazing things don’t negate my desire for marriage. I am not sure that I am destined for single life swag. God gave me this heart and He designed me to be romantic (I think I enjoy Christian romance novels and Jane Austen period pieces too much to be left single. I’m also writing this as I watch Elizabeth Gaskell’s North & South for the 100th time. Oh that train scene at the end).

 

But I have to be patient and wait. Thankfully, I am in good company and I just blew my own mind thinking of these similarities. Guess who else never married and never dated at the age of 30? Guess who spent their single life pursuing the purpose and work God designed them for? Guess who else was able to travel? Guess who else was able to devote time to their students?

 

Jesus Christ.

 

Jesus has walked where I am walking, waited where I am waiting, and prayed where I am praying. I may not be a man’s number one, but Jesus has been and will always be MY number one. He is the One that matters most and He is no ordinary man. My interests, concerns, feelings, hopes, and dreams are always on His mind. He knows my heart and knows my desires. He has taken care of me and protected me in ways a husband never could. I just have to wait.

 

So what do I do while I wait? The same thing I have been doing. I pray and worship. I serve God in the ways He designed me to serve. I do my best to prepare myself for marriage by observing it in action (Trust me, if I know you personally and you are married, I have watched you and your spouse interact and I have taken notes. You have files. Just kidding. Maybe). All of these things have taught me not to settle and to keep my standards high.

 

I can know all of this and still desire marriage. I can be satisfied in and thankful for my single life and still desire marriage. I’m human and humans are sometimes contradictory. God is constant, even when I am not. I am not ashamed of wanting what God has created to be good. I am not ashamed of being single and inexperienced at 30. I am not ashamed of making Christ my number one. He has a plan for my life and I will follow that plan. He is mine and I am His forever – forever longer than any marriage made on earth.

 

“I will betroth you to Me forever; Yes, I will betroth you to Me in righteousness and justice, in loving kindness and mercy; I will betroth you to Me in faithfulness, and you shall know the Lord.” Hosea 2:19-20 (NKJV)

 

P.S. If you happen to know a guy willing to be the number two in my life, feel free to tell him to holler at your girl. I feel like I already have an army of more experienced women and mentors either praying for me or searching for me and more join the party whenever I share this part of my heart. Pray for your other single friends too. So much better than online dating :o)

 

Song of the week:  Not For A Moment, by Meredith Andrews 

Is Jesus Really Enough?

Today’s post is brought you by Stephanie Perry Brock. Over the past few years, although we have different lives, we’ve shared similar situations. We are very different from each other in personality and giftings, but we compliment each other. She’s always teaching me something new. She is an amazing mom to four beautiful children, and a wonderful wife to her husband Justin (who I call my twin 😆). I am so proud of her. She has not had an easy road to walk with having HG with ebery pregnancy and having big life changes every year. She is a gift to me and I am grateful for her writing this post… To follow more from her please check out her site: http://www.storiesofhisgrace.com

______________________________________

The room was dark, just illuminated emergency exit sign. All you could hear was the gentle hum of the engines as the ship gently rocked from side to side. I felt devastated, alone, and scared.

I was about to leave my floating home. I had 48 hours then I’d be traveling back stateside. I just lost my grandfather. The ship was docked in Libya and my departure was time sensitive. Leave now… or stay through till your commitment ended (another 8months). 

Before I even had the chance to decide the personnel leaders on board decided for me. I was going home. I was about to leave my new comfort zone and community of over 400 friends and believers. I‘d been in a serious relationship but we were no longer together. I sat there wondering why God was stripping me of everything. Then the lord spoke to my heart. “Steph, I am enough” I made a commitment right there that whatever came my way, good or bad I knew Jesus was enough.

That took place seven years ago. Since then the Lord has immensely blessed me and gave me a second chance at the relationship. We’ve been married five years now and have four beautiful kids. All under four. We have vehicles to drive, a house, and a wonderful community where we live. But life is changing, shifting and Lord is again taking things away and I’ve been questioning…

You see seven weeks ago today, my dad was in a serious car crash. And 6 weeks ago today he passed into eternity. My husband had already signed up for a certificate course for aviation at a school just down the road from my parents. Long stories short… We put our house on the market, we’ve sold and donated more than 50% of all our belongings and are relocating to Florida from Delaware. Again all very sudden. But now it’s different, it’s harder. We’re giving up our home to move back into my mom’s house. My husband’s last day of work is in three weeks. We have family up here and a wonderful church community. The house hasn’t sold. Work isn’t lined up. Is Jesus enough?

Hebrew 1 shares the supremacy of God’s Son. Here are verses 1-4:

Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by His Son, whom He appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world. He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the work of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.”

Did you get all that? God the Father gave us Jesus to be his messenger directly to us! Jesus is:

  1. The heir of all things!
  2. The one whom God created the word
  3. The radiance of the glory of God
  4. The exact imprint of God the Father
  5. He upholds the universe by his power!
  6. He is the purification of sin
  7. He’s seated at the right hand of the Father
  8. He is superior than angels
  9. His name is more excellent than the angels

This passage just blows me away. I get so consumed by the here at now, so attached to my earthly relationships and possessions I lose sight of how awesome our God really is. Earthly possessions are not wrong, they are a blessing, but when they become what defines us, makes us feel safe, and start to replace the God who holds the universe, that is very wrong. It’ll make us scared, lonely and devastated. If I choose to fix my eyes on who Christ is, and no what I’m going through. Jesus is so much more than enough!
“Praise be to God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never parish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you,” 1 Peter 1:3-4

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13


 

Sitting In Silence

I’m back in the state where I lost my Dad. My family and I had to drive passed where my Dad’s accident was as we evacuated our home. We had time to board up our house, but we left everything behind except a few belongings. We have no idea what hurricane Irma will do. 
But, to be honest, I feel like I’ve already been hit by a category 5 storm. I feel like my family has been hit by a category 5 storm. 
I see that storm and I cry because that “catastrophic damage” is how my heart feels. Our family lost our rock, our leader, our protector and provider. Yes, God is all those things, but my Dad was our human representations of those things. 

 

I know already that this storm will change everyone’s life in South Florida. For some it may be a few weeks for other it could be forever, but it will not be the same. 
The same is true for my family. Our lives will never be the same. 
I used to think, wow we are really fortunate, nothing really bad has happened to our family. It was always someone else. All that changed on July 16th when my Dad loses control of his car and then passed on July 23rd.
When I hear of what Harvey and Irma have taken and destroyed, I think of the pain of losing my Dad. But these hurricanes remind me that’s a “fatality” is not just any fatality any more. That fatality is someone’s family member. Their tears are my tears. That new life change is my new life change. It’s not just “those people” anymore, it’s me. 

What I mean to express is that I feel their pain. I hurt for them. Those “Islands in the Caribbean” are my island. My heart is so heavy on so many levels. I feel crushed beneath the weight of grief. I am hurting for those who are hurting and I am hurting myself. 
Maybe that’s what is supposed to happen in life. I keep having to remind myself of what Jesus went through. I once heard a man say something a long the lines of “Had God not sent His son to suffer, I don’t know that I could ever resonate with God the Father” 


This life will bring troubles. It will break your heart time and time again. It will crush you. It will make you want to give up. It will shake you. It will come with gusts that rip away precious things and precious people from your life. 
Yet, God is not a cookie cutter God. In a world of billions with different languages, different personalities, different gifting, God knows each one of us. He knows you. He knows me. He knows our pain. He doesn’t have an automated reply. He relates with pain, loss, devastation and grief. He’s been through it. He doesn’t give you cookie cutter responses like: “Count it all joy”, or “All things work together for good”. I know those words are inspired by God, and I do believe we hold on to that, but in the midst of the storm, I believe that often God sits with us in silence, until we are ready to wrestle through our questions, hurts and doubts. 
There are times life leaves us speechless. Staring at the storms approaching leaves one mesmerized and frightened- in silence. In the same way, staring at my Dad in a coma, whose body was so healthy and strong, left me with no words- only tears. 
But in the speechless times of life, I believe God is sitting right beside us. People who know pain, know that sometimes all a hurting person needs is to know that someone is with us. 
I had an amazing roommate for a period of time. When we were both home, it wouldn’t be uncommon to sit in the same room in silence. We didn’t need to talk, but we wanted each other’s company. It was comforting. When my Dad was in the hospital a family friend came and sat with us. He didn’t say much but he was there. It brought comfort. In the same way, I imagine God sitting beside me and those hurting. 
To be honest, most of the time, I don’t know how to pray or what to say. 
I recently came across Job 2:13, “Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was”

 

So although I don’t understand so much of what is happening, I was reminded of Isaiah 53 (NLT). Which helps me remember that although my vision feels blurred by grief (Ps 6:7), Jesus knows. Jesus understands. He lived it. He suffered through life, and He is with me. And He is with each person who is hurting. 
“Who has believed our message? To whom has the Lord revealed his powerful arm?

2 My servant grew up in the Lord’s presence like a tender green shoot, like a root in dry ground. There was nothing beautiful or majestic about his appearance, nothing to attract us to him.

3 He was despised and rejected— a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief.
We turned our backs on him and looked the other way. He was despised, and we did not care.

4 Yet it was our weaknesses he carried; it was our sorrows that weighed him down. And we thought his troubles were a punishment from God, a punishment for his own sins!

5  But he was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins.
He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped so we could be healed.

6 All of us, like sheep, have strayed away. We have left God’s paths to follow our own.
Yet the Lord laid on him the sins of us all.

7  He was oppressed and treated harshly, yet he never said a word. He was led like a lamb to the slaughter. And as a sheep is silent before the shearers, he did not open his mouth.

8  Unjustly condemned, he was led away. No one cared that he died without descendants, that his life was cut short in midstream. But he was struck down for the rebellion of my people.

9 He had done no wrong and had never deceived anyone. But he was buried like a criminal; he was put in a rich man’s grave.

10 But it was the Lord’s good plan to crush him and cause him grief. Yet when his life is made an offering for sin, he will have many descendants. He will enjoy a long life, and the Lord’s good plan will prosper in his hands.

11 When he sees all that is accomplished by his anguish, he will be satisfied. And because of his experience, my righteous servant will make it possible for many to be counted righteous, for he will bear all their sins.

12 I will give him the honors of a victorious soldier, because he exposed himself to death. He was counted among the rebels. He bore the sins of many and interceded for rebels.

Maybe we are made for suffering because suffering brings compassion, when surrender it to God. 
Time and time again it says Jesus was moved to compassion. And in Psalm 46:10 It says, “Be still and know that I am God” it doesn’t say be still and talk. It just says be still… Maybe suffering is the tool God allows to help us be still…

***These are just some of my thoughts. Writing helps me process… Thank you for letting me have an outlet to process… 


Saying Yes, When All I Want To Say Is No.

I hate the word no. Maybe because I don’t understand why I’ve heard it so much, at least in the past year and a half.
Over and over again, I’ve prayed for different issues and the answer that keeps coming back is No.

  • No, that door is closed.
  • No, that door is not opening.
  • No, I’m not going to heal, I’m taking your Dad home.
  • No, you’re going to be single right now.
  • No. No. No.

With each no, especially and foremost my Dad, comes devastating hurt, and with devastating hurt comes despair…

“We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about the troubles we experienced in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself.“- Paul (2 Cor. 1:8)

As I wrote despair that verse came to mind. That’s how I feel most days. If this is what life has to hold, I don’t know how much more I can take.

I want to say, “You know what God, right back at ya! I’m done. My heart hurts too much to say yes again… What if something else happens? What if you decide to take another family member?”

Today, although I didn’t feel like going, I went to church. I sang as tears streamed down my face. But it was in that sanctuary that I was reminded of another time when God the Father said no.

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be NO more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away”. Revelation 21:4

After Jesus died on Friday and before he rose on Sunday, there was Saturday.

I like to think of life right now as Saturday. On Saturday I’m sure the disciples must have been confused. I mean they saw Jesus heal the lame, raise the dead, walk on water, and even put a man’s ear back together. But on Saturday, He was in the grave.

That Saturday had to be the worst day of their lives. They probably felt abandoned, alone, forsaken. They probably wrestled with anger at the other Jews, and possibly anger towards God. He promised to be on the throne after all and the disciples were supposed to judge the twelves tribes of Israel.

Matthew 19:28-29, ” Jesus said to them, “I assure you and most solemnly say to you, in the renewal [that is, the Messianic restoration and regeneration of all things] when the Son of Man sits on His glorious throne, you [who have followed Me, becoming My disciples] will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. 29 And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or farms for My name’s sake will receive many times as much, and will inherit eternal life.”

Saturday must have shook them.

But Sunday came… and He was back, but not without His wounds. He fought the greatest fight of all time, and said NO to eternal suffering for anyone who accepts His sacrifice.

It is only because of that one NO that I can say yes.

  • I can say, “yes” I’ll keep going to church, even though I don’t understand what’s going on.  
  • I can say, “yes” I’ll reading my Bible, even though I’m confused and hurt, and have a foggy head when I read it.  
  • I can say, “yes” to worshiping, even when I don’t feel like it. 
  • I can say, “yes” to praying, even when I don’t want to.  
  • I can say, “yes” to Jesus, even when I don’t feel like it or feel like I have the strength.  

He overcame death for me. So even if He decides to continue to say no, for His own purpose, I pray He will give me the strength to keep saying yes to Him. I know I don’t have the strength to say it left to my own strength.

… I pray that I will be like Martha in John 11:27, before before Jesus raised Lazarus, she said “Yes, Lord” she replied, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.”

Thank You for Being There ❤️

Next Saturday my family and I will be hosting my Dad’s memorial service. It’s hard to write that. It’s also hard to comprehend that almost a month ago my Dad’s accident happened.

Part of me is dreading the service because it’s like closing a chapter and opening another. And the next chapter will be a long hard road. I don’t know that I’m ready to start “our firsts” without my Dad: his Birthday, my mom’s Birthday, the grandkids birthdays, Father’s Day, and the other events. I’m not ready for this road, but I know God allowed us to be on this road, and I know we are not alone.

In fact, we have not been alone the whole time, and neither was my Dad. When we realized the magnitude of my Dad’s accident, my heart hurt because I thought my Dad was alone during it all. The day we found out he wasn’t, I cried out of gratefulness. Gabe and Brandi (a couple who was headed home) witnessed the crash. They stopped and prayed with my Dad until the EMT arrived. A volunteer firefighter also stopped. They couldn’t go to the hospital, but they just wanted to be there for my Dad.

Then, when Rachel first got to the hospital, she was met by her mom’s friend, Elizabeth Yizbeck. And when Tyler couldn’t get there as fast as he wanted to, a family friend, Ramon, showed up, just to be there.

Then, as Mom, Linda, Jessica, Brian & Danni, Stephanie & Justin , and the nieces and nephews were driving, I had several friends literally praying us through the night. In our hardest hours, they were there.

Then when we arrived one by one, we hugged, and went to see Dad.

But still, we weren’t alone. The morning we arrived, I got a text message that instantly brought me to tears, “We are on our way” from Sarah Zink. She and Chuck dropped everything and started the seven hour drive to just be there.

Then there was Uncle Bob and Aunt Lynn, my Dad’s boss, who have treated us like their own nieces and nephews every since they’ve known us. They showed up at the hospital after just arriving from another trip… They wanted to be there for us.

Then there was the Millers, the Fontaines, the Barrys, the Swift, and a few other friends that changed travel plans to came and prayed for my Dad and us; because, they wanted to be there.

My Uncle Stu wanted to be there for my mom and us kids, so he stayed overnight at the hospital. That allowed us siblings to all be together to discuss the next steps.

And how could I forget our employers and co-workers? My Mom took a leave of absence with the full blessing and support of her supervisors. They had to shift things around, I have no doubt, but gave her their devoted prayers and support, and offered to help in many ways to show they were there. My brothers station offered financial help, shift trades and found out ways to help our family. They wanted to show him they were there for him. My brother in law’s employer let him have time off and then gave him financial help. My employer, his wife, and my coworkers all worked extra hours so I could be there for my family. They even sent cards, from the kids, to show me that although we were hours away they were there for me and my family.

Then there were the seven churches- literally. There were seven different denominations that heard one way or another about my Dad’s accident. They offered housing, brought food, brought gift cards, and prayed for us. Because they wanted to be there for us.

And back at home, we had Lydia, another family friend, find things at the house that we needed. And because we left in a rush, I still had laundry in the washing machine. She and her mom rewashed my laundry, cleaned the house, left flowers in every room and had food waiting for us when we got home. Because they wanted to be there for us.

And then another family friend drove the items we needed up so he could be there for us.

And the donations, text messages, calls and prayers from so many left us stunned and overwhelmed. You gave and prayed because you wanted to be there for us.

The list goes on and on and on. But as we saw this beautiful picture of the church coming together on our behalf, I was reminded of the message my Dad gave at ACMI (Association of Christians Ministering among Internationals) this year. It was on “unused parts” of the body of Christ. In the middle of My Dad’s PowerPoint Presentation is 1 Corinthians 12:26, “And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it…”
One of my Dad’s slide said this:

All the member suffer with the one member that is suffering! The whole Body hurts!  

After my Dad passed, so many people said, “we are weeping with you”. In all honesty, it was hard to weep. I don’t know if it was shock or numbness, but I wasn’t able to cry for nearly a week after my Dad passed away.

But on our long drive home my Mom and I got to talking. We talked about how it felt like someone else was carrying our burden. I am now in tears as I write this, but it felt like each one of you took a piece of our pain and cried the tears we were unable to cry. It’s like God allowed our hearts to break in a thousand pieces, but then called each one of you to gently carry a piece of our heart; until we are able to carry it again.

So, I know I’m still forgetting some, like the doctor who knew someone who knew someone who knew my dad that prayed for him. Or for the money that randomly showed up in several of our bank accounts, or the dinners that were provided from Josh and Jen Chancey, Sarah Watson, The Stebners, Jaye Sousa, our neighbors across the street, and Jamie. Or, the ones who have had to walk this road before us like the Storey family and the Zink family that reached back and linked arms to help us navigate the way forward.

The processing and the words for me have been slow to come, but tonight I want to say, from the very bottom of my being: thank you.

Thank you for being there. Thank you for carrying our broken hearts. Thank you for crying our tears. Thank you for suffering with us, so that we are not alone.

I love each one of you so much, thank you for being there!

A Hallowed Out Life

Life, It hits you like a flash flood. No warning, just chaos, confusion, grief and pain.

For me, grief has been coming in waves. When it comes, it tumbles me hard. My feet desperately searching and straining for the rock I once had a firm stance on.

Another wave, and I get thrown together with debris. In the midst of the tumbling more wounds ensue.

Several times in the past few weeks I have felt I lost my footing. Is this really happening or is this just the longest dream known to man? But then I sit at my Dad’s grave sight and see William Harold Perry 1952-2017 set right next to my Grandpop’s plot.
Why 2017? As I looked at the year, I was reminded that God knew this would be the year my Dad would go home, just two years and a month after my Grandpop, and a year after my life felt ransacked. So much can happen in such a short amount of time.  

While I was thinking about the past few weeks, and the past few years I had a picture come to mind.

The picture was of the Grand Canyon. I have never been there, but it’s on my bucket list.  

I thought about suffering , loss, and our unbelievable and incomprehensible times that God allows. Life cuts pieces out of our hearts.

Just two days ago, my heart hurt so bad it felt like I was having a heart attack. There was a physical pain because the emotional pain is too much for my heart to endure.

God allows debris to chip away at us, and He allows the tumbling to soften our edges.

When I was younger my brother would tumble rocks. He would put several rocks and pour water into it. Several hours, sometimes days, the rocks would come out as smooth as silk.

So in the suffering, God is digging out and refining us, so that we become like the Grand Canyon.

No one can look at the Grand Canyon and credit it’s majesty to human. When you look at the Grand Canyon it shouts the existence of God.

In the same way the Grand Canyon echoes, our lives also echo. We can echo bitterness, or we can echo the greatness of God.

Another aspect to this picture is the depth of the Grand Canyon. There is a depth that suffering gives you. When you meet someone and they have an understanding most people don’t, you can almost guarantee that they have endured some kind of suffering.  

I once attended a church service where this young, hipster guy was speaking. It would have been easy to assume that he hadn’t spoken much, or had had much life experience. But almost as soon as he started sharing, I thought to myself, this guy has been through something… Sure enough, by the end of the message, he shared about his son being severely disabled, and not able to speak… This man said he longed for heaven, not only to see Jesus face to face, but also to hear his son finally be able to call him Dad.

I think God must have known I needed this picture because quite frankly in the midst of the tumbling, flash floods of grief, and loss, it’s hard to hold on. Grief and loss take you to dark places. Being so close a love one dying is a very dark place to be, and I have not been able to process it still…

But if I remember that God is creating a masterpiece, and that when He has His say and done His will in my life, I pray that it screams His greatness, because I cannot walk through this in my own strength. Life too often is just too hard to bear without God… And for now, this is what I am holding onto.

Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 2 through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. 3 And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; 4 and perseverance, character; and character, hope. 5 Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us. Romans 5:1-5

Song For Today: King of My Heart , by Sarah McMillan

The night the devil tried to drown me

⚠️: This is a dark post, but it helped me process some things going on in my heart. 

I was grabbed so fast I got whip lash. I was dragged through hellish landscape that seemed to go on more than I could endure.

Rocks, thorns and glass worked their way into my fragile skin, and into my wounds dirt began to fill. I was soon covered in blood which soon turned into mud. 

I could not get free of his death grip. I could only hope that, for some reason, there was a light at the end of the road.
Suddenly when I thought a break was coming, I felt a sensation that for a bit felt like a way out of my misery. Water! Maybe I can clean out my wounds.
Just as soon as I had the thought, the strong evil hand grip had me once again. I was plunging downward into the water which was now growing so dark I couldn’t see anything in front of me.

My head took a hit, but the pressure didn’t leave. It stayed. I was pinned. The death grip was gone but I heard tormenting whispers, “hate him”, “he abandoned you”, “it’s not worth it”, “if a break is what you want shallow the water”.
I lay there feeling my open skin waving in the water. I could feel the pressure rising in my lungs as they burned for oxygen. My body lay broken pinned under the weight of a stone. Water and sinister words spewed out of a hideous and maleficent creature. 
It all seemed like too much to bear. I was pinned. I had no way out. I had hatred burning in my heart that no amount of water could put out. I had a choice: Fight or flight. Suck in the water, or give it one more shot, for hope.
I chose to cry out knowing I have very little breathe left. My feeble cry even quieter under the water. No one could possibly hear my tiny bubbles that attempted to be a cry for help. 
I nearly gave in, but just as I went to suck in the water, the rock pressed against my head shifted. I prayed for strength and was able to lift my torn up arm to free myself. The boulder moved. My lungs still burning, and my mind wondering when I might pass out, but I started to see the light.
I had no time to think about getting pulled under, I just had to make it to the top. My head felt the rush of a cold  breeze as my head popped above the surface. I gasped for air, and floated, until I could regain the strength to swim to the shore. 
Each stroke felt like I had a ten pound weight on it, but I had to keep swimming. I started to fear that I may be taken under but for whatever reason I wasn’t and the devil that was out to destroy me had somehow lost interest in me as his catch.
I set my feet down and felt the ocean floor. I had made it, but how? 

No immediate answer came from my call. 

No one came to lift the rock off my head, no one intervened as my limp body was drug through that horrendous landscape. 

Why and how am I on the shore which was soft on my skin? 
Grace… 



Grace doesn’t intervene as we expect. It doesn’t punch anyone in the face in our defense. But it does cause things to shift. It gives us the strength when we have nothing left. Grace does not intervene in during times we are being battered, but it somehow still holds us together despite of bloody and wounded bodies. 
The moment grace shows up the enemy is silenced. He hates the presence of it’s existence. 


So although in this hell hole called life we may not see the rescue we are looking for, we have grace we are saved by.