I Want to Hold Your Hand...

James 5:16 Confess your trespasses to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much. 

I am a faithful person. I have grown throughout the years in my faith and belief. I have been strengthened in my prayer life and in my love and devotion to Father God. I know how important prayer is. I love being able to intercede and pray for other people. I love knowing that I have a direct line to our Heavenly Father to be able to pray for my friends and family and even strangers. When someone asks me to pray for them, my heart soars knowing that this is something I can do to help their situation. I can petition God on their behalf and raise them up in faith to our Father for His will to be done. 

I am not great at doing these things or experiencing these feelings on behalf of myself. I feel awkward asking for people to pray for me. I have a hard time letting the leader of our church prayer chain know when I need prayers for a situation. It is out of my comfort zone. Do I want people to pray for me? Absolutely! But I don't want to tell them that's what I need. It's very uncomfortable for me. 

But, I find myself sitting at my kitchen table today needing to suck it up and ask for prayers and intercession. I haven't been feeling well. Some people would say that this is a perpetual problem for me. But when you live with autoimmune diseases, this is a reality. Some days just functioning is hard. It takes all my effort and energy to simply pull myself out of bed and get going. You get used to the fatigue. You get used to smiling and telling people you're fine. You get used to the pain. Well, there was a symptom I have been having that I finally decided I just couldn't get used to anymore. Persistent nausea finally did me in. It was like I was pregnant again with morning sickness all day long. I finally had enough and went to Urgent Care. (I'm NOT pregnant, by the way...so get THAT out of your head!)

Explaining my symptoms he poked and pushed and prodded. He asked about pain and I told him I have pain on my upper right side that wraps around my back towards my kidney area. He nodded his head and told me I needed to see a surgeon. He suspected, especially since I've had attacks before, that this was my gall bladder. My mom had her gall bladder out. My grandma had her gall bladder out. I'm fat, female, and (almost) forty so I fit the profile to a T. I called the next day and made an appointment with the surgeon. After meeting with him two weeks later, he scheduled an ultrasound and a HIDA scan to look at things and see how things were working. 

My ultrasound was last Tuesday. My results were emailed to me Thursday. Which leads us to this plea for prayer and intercession. As I opened the email the first statement says that the ultrasound showed a normal abdominal ultrasound. The gall bladder looks fine and there is nothing wrong with the bile ducts. Relief washed over me! Yay! No gall bladder surgery maybe! Then I noticed the number two bullet point. Probable...was all I read. There were big long words with a lot of letters I didn't know for sure. I took a second to try and parse the words apart from my Latin classes at UW and only figured out it had somthing to do with blood vessels. I did a quick google search of the word and my heart stopped. Tumor. The big long letters spelled out that my ultrasound showed that I have a tumor on my right kidney. In stunned silence, I did some more quick reading, started writing questions I needed to ask my surgeon and took it to Father God with prayer. 

My first reaction was that I wasn't going to tell anyone. No one needed to know. Not a big deal. The more I read the more I learned. It is small right now, but it's a rapidly growing tumor. The problem with the tumor is that it is made primarily of blood vessels from the kidney. So, if the tumor grows too quickly or if I have any sort of trauma to my back or kidney area, the vessels could burst and I could hemorrhage. The next day I called the nurse that works with my surgeon and asked some more and learned some more. Typically the only treatment is surgery. 75% of the time, these tumors are in the right kidney. I'll probably need a CT scan of my kidney. I need to watch for blood in my urine. And we're moving forward with the gall bladder tests to ensure that it also isn't a problem before moving on to what the plan will be for the tumor. 

So, I am reaching out to my friends and family and prayer warriors and partners in faith, asking for prayer and intercession. It took some convincing from friends and family that I would need prayers and love and support. Because I don't really do this. I don't want people to know anything is wrong. Most people don't know I have seizures. Most people don't know I have autoimmune diseases that wreak havoc on my system. And if I didn't have some super passionate friends and family most people wouldn't know that I now have a kidney tumor. 

But here we are. And I'm asking for prayers. I'm asking for prayers first of all that God's will would be done. I know the outcome that I want, but God is the one in charge of my life. God knows my comings and my goings and He knows what is in store for me. So, first pray that His will be done. Then, pray for healing. Healing for my gall bladder. Healing of my nausea (that's the worst). Healing for my kidney. That the tumor would be removed completely and that there is no damage to my kidney. That God would give me the peace and the strength to walk through this journey wherever it may lead. That God would bless my children and give them peace and strength in this journey. I ask that you pray for my doctors and nurses and other medical staff to develop a plan that is pleasing to Father God and that would lead to complete healing. 

"Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil." This news is a mild shock to me. Not what I expected. But I am not afraid. I have the most amazing high God on my side and there is nothing that can steal me from His presence. Not Satan. Not evil. Certainly not a measly little tumor. I am strong in the Lord! He has me cradled firmly in His strong, loving arms. He has already walked me through some tough stuff in my life. And this is no different! 

So, add me to your prayers, please! Add me to your church prayer chains. Share this blog post to your Facebook pages and let's take it to the Lord in prayer! He is mighty and loving and can do great things! 

The Bible says in Matthew 18:20 "For where two or more are gathered in my name, there I will be also." Thank you, prayer warriors, friends, and family for gathering in God's name and lifting me up in prayer. I appreciate you all and I thank you for holding my hand in prayer through this journey! More to learn about God and my faith and myself, I'm sure! 

God bless you all in your trials and journeys also! Let me know how I can reciprocate in prayer for you! For we can only make it through this life with the love and support of our Heavenly Father, and with hand holding and walking through this life with our brothers and sisters in Christ!

Letters to You...

This has been a long and busy weekend. I have had a headache for most of the day today and I am exhausted, ready to fall into bed with the girls after our Harry Potter chapter and spelling word study session is over. So, we angrily read about Professor Umbridge's new Educational Decree, read through Emerson's words of the week, and I kiss them goodnight and roll over staring into the darkness. I wait for the sound of their steady breathing as they quickly drift off to sleep. And then I wearily pull myself out of bed to start the chores of a single mom with two little girls who all have school and/or work tomorrow. Meal prep happened yesterday which made putting lunches together much easier than usual. Amelia is getting hot lunch. Emerson needs cold lunch and she also needs dinner. She has gymnastics and I have a board meeting which means Emerson will need to eat dinner in the car on her way to the gym with Pa. Ugh...I don't feel like I'm winning any mom of the year trophies here. Our schedules are so tightly packed sometimes I don't know how we're going to get it all fit in there. 

So, while standing over the peanut butter and jelly sandwich thinking about how life might flow better, my mom guilt kicks in. So busy at seven years old! I'll leave my house in the morning at 7:30 to head to my job and won't see my girl again until I pick her up at the gymnastics center at 8:00, just in time for a quick car snack, more Harry Potter, another dose of the spelling list and tuck them into bed to start it all over again. 

So, I tear off a napkin, grab a Sharpie, and scrawl out the following: I then immediately burst into tears. It seems so superficial. Conveying my love on a flimsy chunk of napkin. But then I also remember the tears in my eyes when I was little and would find a note in my lunchbox from my mama. It wasn't superficial to that little girl with the Laura Ingals braids. I loved them. Treasured them. I used to store them in my pencil box at school until I couldn't fit any more in. My mama loved me. She cared about me. She wanted me to think about her in the middle of the day. My tears tonight were a mixture of feeling sad and missing the days of summer when I could take care of my own kids rather than other people's kids but also a measure of immense love. As I read my note back to myself my love for Emerson filled my heart so full I thought it would burst! I love my daughters so very much. And the marker ink on that napkin couldn't even contain all of that love. 

What if God wrote us love notes? What if we opened our lunch boxes to find scrawled messages of love and pride from our Heavenly Father. "Tammy, I love you soooo much. You are my rock star! I am so proud of you! Love, Father God" Does that seem silly? Superficial? I don't think so. God doesn't exactly operate that way. He doesn't write us messages or words on a napkin. But, He does leave us love notes everywhere! When your eyes and ears are open to Him, you will soon see that God leaves us messages everywhere. I hear His voice when I am still and just sit in His presence. I see His love notes on the wings of the eagle as it soars over my property. The flowers that sway in the breeze are filled with words of pride for us. His voice whispers that He loves us in the swirling wind. I can hear His kindness and compassion in the giggles of my girls as they run and play together. I hear His forgiveness in the words of prayers from my prayer partner. God writes us love notes. And they are just as meaningful to me as that napkin note will be to Emerson tomorrow when she unzips her lunchbox. 

God loves us so! He's never too busy for us and He shows us how much He loves us in the everyday. His love notes are placed everywhere, just waiting for us to come upon them and realize that they are from Him. So, pause and be still and wait on the Lord! He is there, with messages of love and faith and hope and peace. Think about what His message to you would say! Insert your name into the note I scrawled above and picture it being YOUR message from God! 

God loves you soooo much! You are His rock star! And He is so proud of you!

Amen!

Children of the Sea...

They were my pride and joy. When I was first hired by the school district back in 2002, the first thing I purchased after signing my contract was my shiny red truck. A year later I purchased my babies: two white and maroon 2003 SeaDoo GTX 4-Tec jet skis. They were gorgeous. And they were mine. Everyone asked if I was sure I wanted to buy two of them. I was sure. One for me and one for my friends. I didn't want to go alone, but I didn't want to share either. We hauled those things everywhere. Seabeck. Lion's Field. Several locations along the Columbia River. Mossyrock. Eastern Washington. They were my favorite toys. 

When I met Brian he and I took them on a trip or two together. Amelia was born and our first trip with her was to Mossyrock. She rode on them with my dad. I just knew she was going to be our little water baby. We were going to raise our kids on the water and they would learn to love the water as much as their momma. 

I do love the water. My soul is tied to the water. From the time I was little, my momma had me in the water. We had a pool in our backyard. I have amazing memories of camping and swimming in rivers and streams, lakes and the ocean. We planned our trips around our favorite swimming holes. I remember walking along the beach at Kalaloch and feeling my heart soar. I loved the water. The crashing of the waves upon the shore. The sound of a river swirling and twirling around the boulders on its course onward. The rhythmic pulse of water. And I still love these things. 

When we got the SeaDoos my heart became even more attached to the water. Being on those is like flying on the water. The boats plane as you get up to speed and they glide across the top of the water. The temperature changes as you make your way up a waterway. The waves lapping the hull of the boat. Seals poking their head out of the water in curiosity. The wide, beautiful expanse of the sky reflecting off of the wide, beautiful expanse of the water below you. Being near the water brings me closer to God. Being on the water and I'm right in heaven with Him. 

Brian and I took Amelia with us to Mossyrock in the summer of 2009 with the rest of our friends and family. He died in October 2010. And the SeaDoos sat...

It wasn't that being on them brought too many painful memories. Brian and I hadn't had much time on them together. Stuff got in the way. Grief. Raising two babies alone. Seizures. More grief. Other things became priorities for me. And the SeaDoos sat...

This past summer, I'm not certain what spurred me to do it, but I took the online boaters course since I needed a license to drive a boat now. I walked up to my parents yard where my SeaDoos were parked and made the decision that they weren't going to sit anymore. I called to get them in for service. When the shop heard they had been sitting for eight years they weren't hopeful they could get them running. And so I prayed and my dad and I towed them in and left them behind, confident in the mechanics. 

A few weeks went by. No progress. They needed more money. They thought they were close to figuring out what was wrong. Panic set into my heart. I agreed to let them keep going with them. 

A few more weeks went by. Another phone call. They needed more money. They were certain they were going to figure it out. Sadness crept in. I had ruined the things that I loved. I hadn't taken care of the things that I had to have and I could see the memories fading thinking my boats were bound for the junkyard. I agreed to let them keep going. 

A couple days later another phone call. Tears started welling in my eyes before I even answered the phone. In my head I could hear them telling me it was hopeless. No use. I was bringing home very large paperweights. I answered apprehensively and the voice on the other end said, "They're ready! Want to come get them?" I was elated. We went and got them and brought them home. There were a few snags that needed to be worked out but yesterday, after eight years of sitting, I was driving my babies towards the boat launch at Lion's Field, with my human babies in the back seat asking a billion questions. 

What if we fall off? Are there sharks in the water? Can you just go slow? What if I just want to stay on the shore with MomMom? Emerson maybe even started crying tears of fear, telling me she didn't want to go. My heart understood, but was broken all over again. My babies were going to grown up on the water. Now I was bribing my seven and ten-year-old to just try it. I was praying they would love it just like I do. 

My dad and I dumped them into the water and jumped on. We were both apprehensive as we started out, unsure if they were really going to work like they used to. We got out of the no wake zone and I opened it up. And before long I was soaring over the water, the wind in my hair, the sun glistening off the surface of the water, and the hum of the engine just as I remembered it. And the tears came. Tears rolled down my face as five hundred emotions poured into my soul all at the same time. Sadness of the time I had wasted. Pride at the hard work it took to own these and then to have them repaired. Grief as I remembered the last trip I took with Brian, a picnic on the dock in Kingston where we started the trip at Lion's Field. Happiness as I remembered all the fun times we had on them after I first got them. And a sense of being filled with God's love and grace and mercy as I flew across the surface of the water. That emotion won out in the end as I looked up at the horizon and saw the picture God had painted for me across the western sky. 

I went to open water towards Silverdale where there was no one around and I pulled the key out of the ignition and I just sat and floated and watched the skyline for a moment. God's voice rang out over the water to me and my heart felt as if it were going to burst. He created all of this wonder, this splendor, for us. He loves us so much he sends us the ocean waves and the sunsets and the mountains in the distance. It's all a gift for us. And seeing those pieces of His creation makes my faith come alive. 

I raced back to the boat launch and picked up my apprehensive little girls. They warily climbed onto the SeaDoo behind me. I promised them I would go slow and explained to them how the SeaDoo works and why the key is attached to me and what they should do if we fell off, just in case. It wasn't long before I heard Emerson's little voice squeak around me: "Momma, could we go fast?" I asked if she was sure and they both said yes. So we went fast. Giggles and whoops and cheers of delight rang from their little voices. We went towards Silverdale. I took them the other direction and we went under the Warren Avenue Bridge and the Manette Bridge just in time to see the ferry pulling in. I steered towards the ferry and asked if them wanted to jump the wake of the ferry so we did that. The second time around I misjudged the height of the wave and we came down with a crash as a wave went right over the top of all three of us. I held my breath, waiting for the tears to start, but all of heard was laughter and a declaration from Emerson of "That was awesome!" The three of us had the best time last night. When my dad had brought the trailer back to the launch and it was time to pull them out of the water, Amelia said, "This was the best day of the whole summer." And my heart smiled. 

On the way home we talked about all the things we could do with the boats. They asked if we could take them out again soon and I said yes! And Amelia pointed out how blessed we are. 

Indeed we are blessed. Another stage of healing for our family. Another phase walked through. Another heart moment shared between the girls and me. I had been avoiding the boats. And it kickstarted a whole range of feelings and emotions that sort of rocked me for a while. But, the overwhelming sense of love and peace and joy of being on that water, flanked by my children and surrounded with the ocean waters and the amazing evidence of Father's creation won last night. 

My children are water babies just like their momma. And we are looking forward to many more adventures on the water. And many more days of witnessing God's amazing creation!

The Devil Went Down to Georgia...

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39

"The devil is in the details." Ever heard this said? Why do we say that? What does it mean? It's meaning stems from the idea that in order for a project to be successful, every last detail needs to be perfect. And when the devil is present, or when something goes wrong, things don't go as planned.

It's true, you know. The devil is there. Waiting. Watching. Prowling like a lion. Waiting for you to open the door just a crack and let him in. 

In my opinion, we as Christians do a poor job of telling people about Satan and his stealth. We seem to not want to bring him up. If we don't talk about him, he's not there. If we ignore Satan and his minions they'll just disappear. We are doing a huge disservice to people when we do this. The devil is there! It's not like when we were little children playing hide and seek. We can't stand in plain view, cover our eyes, and expect to not be found. We need to talk about Satan. We need to talk about him and how to protect ourselves against his attacks. 

Preaching the good news is so very important! Telling people about how much God loves them should be a cornerstone in our Great Commission to witness to people. But, we have to talk about the other side too. We have to let people know that once they open their hearts and their minds to Christ, once they start believing and praying and seeking His promises, the door is opened and we are involved in a battle. A classic battle of good versus evil. By not talking about it, we are not preparing people to put on God's armor and be ready. 

I have been under attack for a while. They know which of my buttons to push. They know exactly what to whisper into my ear. They know what to play at to take my breath away and make the anxiety pound inside. No one talked to me about Satan and what he could do. I attended parochial school. I've been a member of a church since I was in Kindergarten. And unless I was daydreaming during all those religion lessons and Sunday sermons, I don't remember hearing about how crafty Satan is. How persuasive he is. How persistent he is. And so, rather than knowing I was involved in spiritual warfare, I thought I was crazy. I thought I needed to be committed or medicated. I thought something was wrong with me. I was ready to declare myself mentally unstable, when in reality, I needed to put on the armor of God. 

Satan is ruthless. He is terrible. He knows what is most important to you and he uses all of that against you. He uses my weight. My assault. The suicide of my husband. He uses my parents and my children. He uses my friends. He uses my own thoughts and my own feelings. He uses my insecurities. And, back before I knew what was happening, I was sliding into a pit of despair and confusion and heartache. It wasn't until people who knew more about this than I did explained to me what was going on that I started to realize what was happening. And that, by the grace of God, I had the authority to take control and take charge of my faith journey and my life. And now that I know, I feel like it is somehow part of my mission, part of my calling, to let others know too. 

The weird things that happen that leave you unsettled but are unexplained? You're being attacked. The dark, destructive thoughts you have at times. You're being attacked. The crippling anxiety and depression? You're being attacked. The nightmares and night terrors and things that interrupt your sleep? You're being attacked. The thoughts that you are crazy or that you suck as a mom or that you're too fat or that you can't do your job right? You're being attacked. 

Satan uses a wide range of tactics to try and wear you down and get you to tap out. He is more powerful than churches give him credit for. BUT, the news that the church does get right? Our God is more powerful! Our God can wrap His arms around you and pull you out of the muck and mire that threatens to pull you under. Our God can wrestle those demons, wrestle those evils, tear down those that want to tear us down. He is omniscient and omnipotent. He is the Almighty! He is the one that has given you HIS very own armor to cover you and protect you and save you from the wicked one. 

So, yes, the devil is down in Georgia. And Washington. And all over the world. He is in your cities and is in your homes. He may even, at times, be in your heart. But, in Father God, you have all the tools and all the love and all the peace you need to defeat Satan. Do not be afraid! Do not despair! Do not sink down and believe the lies that he whispers into your ear! And if you feel like you are being dragged to the point of no return, reach out! Ask questions! Be brave and ask for help. 

Along the lines of our family motto of be kind, this also spreads in this message. Knowing what I know now about Satan and his capacity to destroy people makes me take pause and look at our societies. Our communities. That dirty, smelly man begging for money on the corner? Chances are he's under attack. The women who talks to herself and hears voices? Chances are she's under attack. The people who are mean-spirited and rude and angry? Chances are they are under attack. And the more we talk about this, the more we spread prayer and compassion throughout our communities, the faster our churches, our communities, our country can heal! 

Satan thinks he is winning! Satan thinks that we are on the downhill slope to destruction. Well,I hold out faith that he is WRONG! As a core, we are good people. God resides in this world, and He is the one that is in control. We just need to be brave enough to let go, and let God. We need to see the evil and racism and divisiveness and mental health issues that we are experiencing as attacks. Start with a little prayer. Add in some compassion and understanding. Be kind to all you meet and the battles they may be fighting. And our world has a chance to heal. 

I am still under attack. Daily I fight to remember to lean into my Lord and put on my whole armor. Daily I choose to walk through life leaning on Him.  Am I perfect with this? Not at all! I need reminders all the time. Luckily God has graced me with the best prayer partner ever to grab my hands, place my Bible in them, fold them in prayer, and reach out to my God for help. The road isn't easy. It isn't all good. I have been through a lot. Satan has done his best to take me out. But I have faith in my Heavenly Father to carry me through. And I have been blessed, so very blessed, on this journey I have been on and will continue to be on. We are all works in progress. We are all amazing creations. We just need to make sure we are leaning on the right Creator. 

American Girl

Luke 6:35 But love your enemies, do good, and lend, hoping for nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High. For He is kind to the unthankful and evil.

I am an American. I was born and raised in America. My dad was an immigrant from Germany. But he is also an American. He immigrated here and gained citizenship. He grew up in a small town in Michigan and grew up to serve as a hard hat deep sea diver in the United States Navy. He raised my sister and me to be proud to be Americans. To never take for granted what we have and to love and be kind. I have always been proud to be an American. But lately, I am hurt and saddened and confused about what it means to be an American. 

You see, being an American doesn't seem like the noble and honorable thing much anymore. It is an amorphic thing, changing quickly from day to day, from race group to race group. There are times that when I'm watching the news I'm almost afraid to admit that I am an American. You see, I'm also Caucasian. I'm a Caucasian American. Typing that here brings up concern because what if I get lumped into the groups of Caucasian Americans that have been making news lately. Can I be a Caucasian American and state that without someone accusing me of being racist? Do people who don't know me read those words and automatically lump me into the hate groups and the Neo-Nazi gatherings that are being splashed across the media? Do they close their eyes and picture me as a tiki-torch bearing protestor? I hope not because that couldn't be further from the truth for me personally. 

But, as I read Facebook and the news and social media, this is what I am seeing. As ridiculous as it seems that I would be afraid of being judged by the words I have identified with above, it is no more absurd than what is really happening right now across America. People are being judged for how they identify themselves. People are being hated and targeted and even killed for how they identify. People from all walks of life. All races. All creeds. This country is seemingly disintegrating before our very eyes. People are getting bolder in their ignorance. Keyboard warriors are brave sitting behind their screens. Fear and terror are spreading. I, for one, am speaking out. Right here in this blog post I am giving my opinion. At the risk of being called a great litany of things, I am not going to sit in silence anymore. I am using my platform to try and promote peace and remind people of my family motto of be kind. Because even as the world seems to be going mad, it only takes one spark to light a fire. And I have so many kind and amazing and involved friends I know we can start an inferno of love right here in our little corner. 

I am a Caucasian. This means that I am white. I am sure there are people that would say I am steeped in white privilege. There are people that would say I am racist because of pride. I say that I am white. The color of my skin is white. My ancestors were European on both sides of my family. And just as you can't control that your skin is black or white or brown or purple, I didn't have a say in being white. I was born white. I am proud that I am white. I am proud of the German heritage that I was born with. This makes me white. This makes me German. The fact that my father immigrated here from Germany does not make me anti-black or anti-brown or anti-purple. It does not make me racist.  It does not make me superior to anyone.  It makes me white. I am Caucasian. 

I am an American. My grandmother and father came to the United States when my dad was twelve years old. They came here seeking refuge from their war-torn country. My dad instilled in us pride in our America. He taught us to stand for the National Anthem. My eyes fill with tears when I see our flag being carried past. I am humbled by the veterans and active duty and missing in action and prisoners of war that fought for the freedoms we have. My pride in being American does not mean that I hate people from other countries. It does not mean that I get angry at Michael Bennett and Marshawn Lynch for sitting during the National Anthem. Do I agree with them? No I don't, but I also know that they have feelings and they have opinions also. And it is those differences of opinions that our country was founded on. That is what our soldiers and sailors and servicemen and women fight for. Differences of opinion. I am proud to be an American. A small corner of the giant world.

I am a woman. I was born a woman. I had no say in how I was born. I was born with girl parts and girl feelings. Have I been at a disadvantage because I am a woman? In some instances I believe I have. I was assaulted because I was a girl. I have been taken advantage of because I am a woman. Do I regret being a woman? Not at all! I am proud to be a woman. I love my long hair and my soft curves. I love that I was gifted with being able to have children. I love being a woman. I am proud to be a woman. This pride does not make me anti-man. It does not even make me a feminist. It also doesn't make me hate people that aren't sure what they were born. My personal belief that marriage is between a woman and a man doesn't make me against homosexuals. I don't judge others in their choices, or in the way they feel they were born. 

I am a Christian. This is my biggest defining characteristic in my opinion. I have faith in God. I believe that God sent His Son, Jesus, to die on the cross for my sins. I believe that Jesus will come again to take all believers home to heaven. I believe that Jesus paid the debt for my sins and that He loves and cares for me so very much. These beliefs do not mean that I hate people of other faiths. It doesn't mean that I ridicule Mormons or tell Muslims that they are going to hell for their beliefs. It simply means that I follow the Christian faith. 

I know that I am oversimplifying things. I know that the extremist groups that are popping up don't necessarily follow my rainbows and sunshine attitude presented here. But, we can be the change in even these extremist situations. We don't have to all agree with each other! We get to have differences of opinions. We get to have pride in who we are, all of who we are, and not be criticized under the assumption that we are against everyone and anyone who isn't like us. I honestly and whole-heartedly believe that love is the answer! Love your neighbor! Love your friends! Love your family! Love strangers! But even as our verse states above, love our enemies! Love the people who persecute us! Love them! They are missing love. They have hate in their hearts and that is the missing link. They are missing love! They are so driven to just hate others that there is seemingly nothing that can be done. But hating them back won't fix anything. We need to love! We need to be kind! We need to realize that the extremist groups, although prominent in the news right now, are not the majority. The majority of this great nation is still representative of the hard-working, dedicated people that this nation was formed around. The immigrants that came together to form this country! The majority of the people that I know are looking for love and peace and faith and hope! They are looking for kind and loving people that aren't buying into the disgusting behavior of a few. 

Help me spread love! Hug a stranger! Help someone who is on the streets. For every negative thing you see or hear on the news or on Facebook, complete three positive tasks. Keep it simple! Send a card to someone who could use a pick me up! Donate to a charity in someone's name. Talk to the stranger in line behind you. Be proud of who you are and ask about who someone else is. Get off of social media, or at least stop reading the hate! It's permeating our pages and filling our timelines. And when that is all you see and all you read, it is draining. And you start to believe that this is what our country is full of. Hate. Horrible people carrying torches. People tearing our country to pieces. 

Choose love! Choose kindness! Choose to believe that there is more good than hate in the world. Know that I love you all! No matter your skin color. No matter your faith and beliefs. No matter your sexual orientation. I just love! I want to hear the pride you have in who you are. Don't be ashamed to declare who you are! Don't let hate win!

I want to do something bigger than this blog. I'm not sure exactly what that is. A community potluck filled with laughter and love and light? A community service project of some sort? A multi-cultural festival where we learn who we are as a town? We need a movement of love and forgiveness and kindness! We need to come together as people! As people to spread love! Father God is moving me to do something! We need love! So much love...

Love, do good, and lend without expecting anything in return. We can be the change we want to see in these times of hate that is tearing this nation apart! Help me spread love! And kindness. It's maybe not enough to heal everything, but I have faith and hope that a little love and peace can be the catalyst to healing. Help me heal our people! For no matter what we stand up for, I trust that we can come together for the greater good and start the healing of our nation.

I'll Lead You Home...

Proverbs 3:5-6  Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.

I love to drive.  I have always liked to just get in my truck and go somewhere.  Road trips with friends when my truck was brand new.  Camping and hiking and tubing were fun, but for me getting there was the best part.  I love driving and singing to the radio and seeing the sights and just the whole experience of traveling.  When I get to the point where I feel like I'm done with everything, my first fight or flight instinct is really flight.  Running to my truck, jumping in, and just driving off into the sunset. 

The girls and I went on a trip this weekend.  It was our first time as a family driving over mountain passes and heading to Eastern Washington.  We had a wedding Friday evening in Snohomish and once the wedding and reception were winding down, we went to the truck, the girls changed into their jammies, and we set off for our adventure.  We didn't start out until 8:30, however, and by the time we started up over the pass it was pretty dark. Road construction and a road paving project on the west side of the pass left the roads as large black patches and the unpainted lines on the mountain roads didn't make the trip as exciting as I was hoping.  Driving slower than I should have been and clutching the steering wheel, I made my way over the pass, praying with each turn and each mile that my truck drove.  Asking Father God to protect us and keep us safe as we made our way through what seemed mile after terrifying mile.  Trying not to let on that I was filled with fear, as my two little ones in the back seat made comments like "it's so dark" and "why are you going to slow?" and "are you ok, mommy?"  I was relieved when we made it to the summit and started the descent down into the other side of the state.  My hands released the steering wheel a bit, the color drained back into my cheeks, and I started breathing again.

We completed the tasks for the rest of the weekend, having a lovely and enjoyable time exploring Leavenworth and Wenatchee.  We laughed and hugged and ate and walked our way into memories that will be etched into our hearts.  But, as with most good things, it had to come to an end.  Before we knew it we were packing up and jumping back into the truck and heading back over the mountain pass.  This time would be better, I told myself.  This time it is daylight and I can see the road and the beauty of the mountain.  It would be light and there wouldn't be any reason to fear.  So, after a few bonus activities, we headed back up over the pass.  The sun was shining and the mountain pass was so green and beautiful.  We reached the summit in no time and started the descent down the mountain.

And then I realized what Father God had done for us on our journey east.  Seeing what was in front of me in the daylight, the drop off of the mountain, nothing separating our car from falling over the side except for the tiny concrete jersey barrier.  On the way east over the mountains, I wanted nothing but to be going back down the other side.  It was too dark for me to experience the fear of coming down off of the pass.  I didn't see the rivers running right next to the guard rail.  I didn't see the steep drop offs off the side of the mountain.  I didn't know that just a few inches closer to the edge of the road and I could have flipped my car into a ditch.  I was afraid, but I kept driving, trusting that God would carry us through to the Eastern side of Washington.  And He did!

God protects us from so much!  There are so many dangers and disasters in this road.  We walk through our days, filled with fear over little things, when there are big things lurking in the background that God is just taking care of for us.  We are so busy being frightened of the little things like not knowing where our lane is on the road, that we don't even notice the cliff lurking in the background.  We are so focused on worrying about what is right in front of us, that we don't notice what God is doing behind the scenes.  He is so awesome and so amazing!  He is fighting for us each and every second of the day, protecting us from big dangers and super scary monsters.  I know that I constantly make the mistake of trying to take care of everything on my own.  I try really hard to orchestrate my life so that everything falls into place and all is well.  I plow through and plan and try and arrange things, not even remembering that the one who is really in charge is Heavenly Father.  HE is the one that is taking care of everything.  HE is the one orchestrating my life so that everything falls into place.  HE is the one that is making sure that all is well.  HE is the one arranging things for me.

I worry too much.  I don't trust enough.  I don't have faith that He will drive me safely over the mountain passes.  I need to release the control that I so desperately think I need to have and hand the reins over to Him.  He is in charge!  He is the one that is walking me through life.  He is the one that I need to turn to in fear.  Nothing I did on Friday night going over that mountain pass was on my own.  As the verse at the beginning of this post says, I can not and should not trust in my own understanding.  Trust in the Lord!  Trust in God!  Trust that He knows what is best for you and trust that He knows what you need! 

On the way back over the mountain pass, seeing the steep curves and the sheer drop-offs that he protected me from, I began to acknowledge His presence in my life.  His presence on this trip.  He kept us safe.  He made our path straight.  He made my driving skills sure and he guided my truck over the mountains, in the dark, and without the physical markers of this world.  He knew when I needed to slow down, when I needed to speed up, when I needed my heart to be of good courage.  He made my path straight, even over that twisty, windy mountain pass.  He made my path straight.  The driving path, and the healing path that will be another blog post soon.

Thank you, Father, for guarding and protecting us in life always!  Thank you, for always making our paths straight!  Thank you, for reminding me to trust you, even when my head and my heart are telling me different.  Thank you, for all that you do behind the scenes to keep us safe and protected!

My prayer for myself, and for anyone reading this, is that you would put your full trust in Father God.  It's a difficult thing to do sometimes, something that I am for sure struggling with right now in this moment.  But, luckily, He is a mighty, forgiving Father, who is just waiting for me to find my place in His love, and to run with faith towards his open arms.  The path is straight.  I just need to trust.

One More Light...

John 1:5 "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it..."

When Brian and I were looking at building or buying a home, there were several things that I was looking for. Since he was making me get a manufactured home, I had a specific list of details I was looking for. When we found the model that we ended up purchasing, one of the best features to me was the high ceilings. I loved how open everything looked in the living spaces with the high ceilings. Many people who visit our home comment on how huge it looks on the inside verses the outside. I love my high ceilings.

Until recently...

There is a difficulty with having high ceilings. Changing the light bulbs...it takes quite a bit of effort to change the lightbulbs, usually involving a delicate balancing game on a ladder, or on a counter, or on another random piece of furniture. So when a lightbulb goes out it takes more than just a simple effort to complete the task. 

So, lately, I have taken to not changing them. Call it laziness or apathy or not needing light since it stays light until at least 9:00. But one by one, the lights in my house are burning out. It started out as one in Amelia's bedroom. "That's ok. There's two bulbs in that fixture." Then one in my bedroom. Three in the guest bathroom. The second one in Amelia's room. "I'll change it later. You're not in there that often anyways." Two in the hallway. The light on the porch. They are slowly going out one at a time. And until this blog post was delivered to me by Father God on my afternoon run yesterday, I really still didn't care. 

One light at a time sneaks up on you. It is just one light here or there. And there are other lights we can use. But suddenly, before you realize what is happening, you're in the dark. And you are lost and can't see and struggling and scared. Panicked that the darkness will swallow you whole.  No light to even change the bulbs that have flickered out. 

This is how anxiety and depression and PTSD and other mental illness works also. This is how Satan tangles you in his grasp. One light at a time is slowly extinguished. One light burns out and before you know it, you are dangerously close to being swallowed by the darkness. Life is good and you are moving forward and strong and growing. And then one light goes out. One negative thought enters your head. I'm not good enough. I have no friends. No one would miss me. No one cares. 

Then that leads to another light going out. I mess up everything I touch. I'll never get it right. I'm so worthless. 

Before you know it you are in complete darkness. Unsure of how to change the bulbs. Not able to find enough light to see at all. 

This is a reality that is hard for me to admit in a public forum such as this, but I also see the importance of doing so because I understand that I am not the only one out there that is walking through this journey of life. Not the only one that needs help changing out the lightbulbs.  People are struggling all over the place. There is so much sadness and so much heartache. Lightbulbs are going out one at a time and people don't know how to pull themselves out of the darkness. 

Things are good and life is stable for me. I have been growing in my faith and growing in my health and fitness and growing as a person. And Satan doesn't like that. So, then something happens. It could be one little thing. A friend doesn't message back. Your kids gets upset at you. You feel like you failed at a task. A light goes out. But you ignore it because it's just one little thing. Not a big deal. Then something else happens and you convince yourself that two events make a pattern. It must be me. Another light goes out. But you ignore it because there are other lights. Other fixtures. And before you know it, you are sitting in the darkness and overwhelmed and everything you have shoved down and ignored comes flooding to the surface and you are panicked and terrified and drowning. 

I am so very lucky. I have a prayer partner and friends and family that can simply look at me and realize that a light has gone out. That I am close to being in the darkness. So they help me change my lightbulbs and bring myself back to the strong, confident, faithful person that I am. 

Linkin Park released a new song recently called One More Light. In this song they sing,"Who cares if one more light goes out in the sky of a million stars...Well, I do..." one lightbulb going out can be the catalyst to being thrown into darkness. But one friend, one family member, one prayer can throw the light back on and drive out the darkness. 

I care. I care if one more light goes out. I can't stand to see anyone else hurting. Anyone else going through a hard time. I try and look for people who are losing their light and walking in the darkness. And I am blessed to have people to watch for my lights going out also. 

So, this week, I'm going to buy lightbulbs and change the bulbs in my house. To take the first step to walking out of the darkness and into the light. And I am working on the same for my faith walk and my mental health. I am putting the lightbulbs back in place and choosing light over darkness. I encourage you to check your own lights. Don't live in denial. Don't ignore the bulbs going out. Because suddenly you'll be in darkness. But no matter how far into the darkness you are, know there is help. There are people who love you. There are people that would miss you. And, even more importantly, there is a God in Heaven that loves and cares for you oh so very much! He is always there with you, in the light and in the darkness. Ready and waiting to walk you out of the darkness and into His marvelous light! 

May God bless all of those people who thought there was no way out of the darkness. Who didn't know there's always an option to put the light back on, or have someone help them find the light again. 

I am so grateful for my lightbulb changers...so thankful to Father God for never giving up on me. For cradling me in His loving arms and walking me through the darkness to people and places that help me open the doors and replace the burnt out bulbs. I am blessed. I am so blessed...

I posted Linkin Park's video below. Watch it. It's a beautiful song. Rest In Peace, Chester...one more light gone...

If you'd like to read more of my blog posts you can check out my blog at www.justonemorethingmommy.blogspot.com