Responsible

Tonight, I listened to someone nonchalantly present a "sex"/"relationship" message to a college Christian group. It was disturbing to me on several different levels--and I left, enraged.

Maybe I'm wrong. I have been before and might be now. But what I'm feeling is, basically, the following:

What a missed opportunity. Each semester, we get approximately 15 meetings with these students on our campus. They come knowing that it's a Christian group and knowing that they can come there to get away from their busy schedules and crowded minds. They expect, when they come, to hear about Christ.

I don't know that anything said tonight was helpful to anyone spiritually. It felt like a joke. I was mortified--THESE KIDS NEED TO HEAR FROM GOD!!! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?!?!? THEY DON'T NEED A SEX TALK, A CIRCUS ACT DONE IN THE NAME OF CHRIST!!!

I walked out. I was too upset to stay for the "altar call" or whatever tragic ending that would inevitably ensue. I didn't want anyone to think that I approved of the message--and I didn't want my little girl to hear or repeat anything being said.

How unfortunate.

And then, I think, "Why do I care so much???" Some of the kids were laughing. Others just sat silently text messaging, enduring it.

I think it's because I feel responsible.

I feel, seriously feel, a burden for these students, for their lives, their decisions. And I feel a burden for Christ's message, and it BREAKS MY HEART to MISS AN OPPORTUNITY to talk about HOW WONDERFUL HE IS!!! HE IS SOOOOOOOO WONDERFUL!!!!

"Best Stepmom in the World!"

Being a step-mother has not always been an easy adjustment for me. Not only do you go in fighting against what seems to be a global stereotype of the "Eeeevil Stepmother," but there are also some stark realities that make the job daunting at times.

I married Allie and Raylee's father when I was 35. Although I had dated seriously in the past, I had never been engaged to anyone before their father. I had never had children of my own. I had been single and on my own all of my life. When I moved out of my parents' home to go to college the fall after my senior graduation, I entered a single mode of living that would last 18 years.

And I enjoyed it! I loved being single, and when I look back now, I look back with a smile at all of the good moments, the learning experiences, all the "growth" that happened in me spiritually during those times. I loved being single, and living in that freedom that is single-hood.

And that's not to say there weren't times of profound loneliness. I think any single person would tell you there are times of deep longing for "that person," the one God has destined for you. I think that's just natural. But being single doesn't have to be a bad thing. It wasn't for me.

When I met Stephen, I almost immediately KNEW that I would marry him. It wasn't some "lust and infatuation" thing alone--it was that and a deep spiritual connection that had been lacking in ALL of my prior relationships. There was something about him, his manner, the call God had on his life, everything--and he was sooooooo attractive!!! I remember watching him, on one of our first dates, walk into the convenience store to get me something to drink. I saw him at the counter, paying, and my heart leaped! I was in love.

Stephen has two daughters, Allie and Raylee, and they were 4 and 6 when we first met. They have always been the CUTEST kids. I've said many times that if I were to pick two daughters to adopt out of the world's children, these two would be the ones I'd take home for my own! I give praise to God for that.

It was not easy, though, by any means, for me to marry and have an "Insta Family" as they call them these days. I have done my best, and LITERALLY, have relied on the Holy Spirit, to do what is right for them and by them.

But it's hard sometimes to know what is "right for them": For one thing, I'm not their biological mother. I'm not related to them at all, actually, except through their father. For another, I have little input in their lives. The major details and decisions, including discipline, are hammered out by their parents. It can be really frustrating, especially in the beginning.

In the beginning, my policy was, had to be, to love the girls "at a bit of a distance," knowing that they never wanted or needed me in their lives in the first place.

I remember the way Allie used to look at me--with large, sad, wondering eyes. Always such a darling, she'd never SAY what I could read in her eyes, a deep longing for her parents to get back together, for the world to be made aright. I will never forget those eyes.

I remember reaching out to them, then, on a "needs only basis." I could sense what they were going through, noticed, toward the end of a weekend stay, how they would need to cuddle up to me on the couch, hug on me. They missed their Momma.

It's hard to "let people in" when you know you won't be allowed in for long periods of time. It's hard to love with all your might and then feel like, at the end of a weekend, that it's all taken from you, the faucet has been turned off all together, and the ones you love are whisked away, and they forget...

Or do they?

I think this brought on the "arm's length" phase. I can almost laugh now as I type, seeing the progression, knowing in my spirit that God has orchestrated all of this. "Nearer, Nearer to Thee," I hear rolling over in my spirit as I type now.

The funny thing about keeping kids "at arm's length"? It's just nigh to impossible to keep from throwing them to you and wrapping them in your arms.

One of the things the Holy Spirit kept telling me, keeps telling me, is, "Treat them like they are your own."

So, when I asked Raylee what theme she wanted for her ninth birthday party this year, and she said, "Flowers," I was a bit perplexed. Moving away from the easy-to-buy-for-themes, huh? Now, this is a challenge. So, I weighed the options--what to do.

"Do this party like it was for you," I felt in my spirit.

So I named her party, "Flower Bouquet" and filled our home with bouquets of flowers, all over the house, for her birthday party. On or in each bouquet was a note--each differnt--about Raylee. One said, "What a flowery personality," another, "Nine years of joy" and "Isn't she lovely?"

The night before the party, Raylee walked in with Allie and Psalm and Stephen, after a dinner sans me (I wanted to work on the decor for the party).

Raylee came in, mouth open, in awe of all of the flowers and bouquets. She went around reading aloud what I'd written about her on the bouquets. She looked at me, incredulous, and said, "You did this? For me?"

"All for you!" I said. "Happy Birthday, sweetie."

Her eyes teared up a bit and she exclaimed, "YOU'RE THE BEST STEPMOM IN THE WORLD!!!"

FREEEEEEEEDOM

FREEEEEEEEDOM


Thriving church. I saw it, there--
In the midst of Ireland,
In a village where you can feel
God, moving around the lanes,
Reaching out to the children of lost generations.

There is Freedom here. A Truth and Joy
only obtainable after centuries of stagnation.
There is laughter and song only afforded
to those who have paid the price.
A radiant boldness lives here in hearts.

"My pockets are empty, but my spirit is full,"
The beautiful woman said to me with a warm smile.
I could see the Truth behind her friendly dark eyes--
She was free. No, Freeeeeeeeee.
This woman knew of FREEDOM.

I see freedom in the eyes of the children there--
Their toothless grins, their contagious laughter.
Open and honest, pure, believing...
Ireland's future is in good hands.

I hear freedom in the cries of the mothers who dare
to shout with abandon in chorus to their God.
Centuries of wearing burdens have been lifted--
Their tears are tears of hope.

I sense freedom in the outstretched arms of men
who shake firmly--with clean hands, pure hearts.
God alone can clear a slate, make all things new,
set things aright in their universe.

This FREEDOM I have witnessed drives me to my knees--
Makes me yearn for FREEDOM where I live...
Makes me want every song of praise to become reality:
"I want to know you, to hear your voice, to see your face..."
God, I beg for FREEEEEEEEDOM for a lifetime!!!

---------------------------------------------------------------

Galatians 5:1: "We have freedom now, because Christ made us free. So stand strong. Do not change and go back into the slavery of the law."

(a poem in honor of the Irish Christians I met during a missions trip: July 1-11, 2011)

Impressions of Ireland

I loved Ireland. I loved being in Ireland. It is absolutely beautiful there, and its people are extremely warm and hospitable.

These days, when I take an extended trip away from my family, I find myself longing to get back to them. In Ireland, though, I found myself taking mental notes about everything we could see and do in Ireland TOGETHER. I can't wait to get back--with Stephen and Sissy.

I loved the church we visited! How vibrant, how alive! How wonderful the worship! The people! How I long to see such a FREEDOM in the body of Christ here in America! I can't wait to return, to see all of the people I met there and befriended.

Recording a Dream

So, I just awoke from a dream that was not finished, by any means. But the nature of the dream makes me wonder what it was about, what the deeper messages were in it. I am recording it here so I can go back and look at it with a fresh mind to see what wisdom or revelation it might impart.

The Dream--As Much As I Can Remember:

I was with a team of people on earth. There were no cities, no buildings, it was just fields, trees, woody areas. I don't recall what our specific job was... We were living, doing our jobs, but we were FREE. Things were GOOD. I didn't feel stress about the job, or our mission--I felt like somehow this was a spiritual mission.

But things seemed to suddenly take a turn for the worst. We got word that some of our people had been taken. We were told to get out, as quickly as possible, but we didn't want to leave without our teammates. We went back to get them, but as we came to the edge of the clearing, we saw them far away (no one saw us), just as they were shot and killed.

My teammate and I appeared to be the only people left of the bunch. So we turned and ran as fast as we could--stress entering the dream, my psyche--back through the woods...We ran and ran, and somehow my teammate and I got separated in the woods. Neither of us had time to look back.

All of a sudden, I was caught up in a wave of flood water; somehow I had been swept upstream into a rushing, mighty river of sorts and I was trying to keep my head up so I could breathe. While I could feel the stress of trying to make sure I got a great gulp of air every chance I had, and there were times that my mouth was under water and I had no idea if there would be an opportunity for fresh air or not, I never passed out or swallowed water or drowned. I was consciously aware of everything, I could see as the terrain passed. The water was always turning, rushing, gushing, and I was praying praying praying that I could get air, that I could survive this.

While this trip upstream in the powerful river seemed to occur in a matter of minutes, I somehow felt like time was going by quickly, like though my trip in the river seemed like a handful of minutes, that this trip was really taking a period of several, if not hundreds of, years.

Finally, the river stopped its roaring and it got smoothed out and I was literally deposited on the shores of another place. It didn't appear to be any different from any other place I've been in my life. It had grass, trees, etc. But I was all alone.

I stood on the bank, looking around, and before I knew it, a group of men (not like or unlike our men here on earth) surrounded me and I could hear the buzzing wind sound of their feet--they were, I saw, like human versions of dragonflies or something, but without the wings. They somehow used their feet to "float" off of the ground.

They were not threatening, but it was clear that they were there to "scout me out" or "look me over" before they took me with them to wherever their village was.

This was the end of this dream, because my daughter, Psalm, woke me up, needing a diaper change. It's odd that this dream is so vivid. I don't usually keep the vivid impressions of dreams like this unless they have some kind of spiritual message for me.

I will say this. When I landed on the new land, it was my impression that I was no longer seeing the humans of my day. I was somewhere else.

Imperfect Me

To Whom It May Concern:

My t's aren't always crossed, and my i's aren't always dotted. But I do the very best I can to do the very best I can.

Respectfully,
Imperfect Me

This Abysmal Moment

There are moments when time seems to stop ...
Or drag ...or click click click in my brain ...
And my mind feels like it's pulling stretching
In multiple directions...

It's not a good feeling.

There's a disconnect of sorts,
something disengaged, torn even,
and I feel numb in my brain,
like a brain death is coming on ...

It's not a good feeling.

Some people refer to it as anxiety--
Others say it's a depression of sorts ...
But this coming on comes on a lot lately--
There's been no time to heal.

It's not a good feeling.

This abysmal moment, like those before it,
Slender time fingers wrapped around my neck,
Feels like it will last a lifetime
(Though I know the second hand hasn't slowed a bit).

It's not a good feeling.

But I know that if I count my breaths
(one--breathe, two--breathe, three--breathe)
I can make it. I can make it.
And the dark cloud will finally lift.