"Something's Coming"

Isaiah 43: 18-19 says:

The Lord says, "Forget what happened before, and do not think about the past. Look at the new thing I am going to do. It is already happening. Don't you see it?

I will make a road in the desert and rivers in the dry land."

"Something's Coming."

I feel it in my bones. I hear the refrain repeated again and again in my spirit. Sometimes softly. Other times, loudly.

"Something's Coming."

He is going to direct my path, my family's path, my ministry, our ministry. He is about to do something. It's going to be life-changing, life-altering.

"Something's Coming."

Doors that were closed will open. What seemed ludicrous to many will be made reality. And the impossible will be made possible--and we will PRAISE HIM for it.

Let it be, Lord.

Let it be to me, according to Your word.

"I'd Rather Go with You"

For my husband's birthday, I wanted to get him tickets to see an OKC Thunder game. He loves the Thunder.

"Babe, I want to get you Thunder tickets for your birthday."

"Cool!" he said. (And this is a BIG DEAL because my husband is very difficult to buy for.)

"So which game would you like to attend? And who would you like to take with you?" It was not a loaded question. I would buy him whatever he requested.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

I mentioned a couple of his buddies who might like to go with him.

"I want to go with you," he said.

"You sure?" I asked.

He looked at me squarely in the eyes, "Well, yeah. I'd rather go with you."

I stood there, I must admit, a bit stunned. He wanted to take me.

After four years of marriage...he still wanted to take me.

Even now, something within me rejoices at that statement. And I am reminded of how GRATEFUL I am to be married to someone who is my best friend, my boyfriend, my husband--all in one.

I pray for Sissy's mate. That she will wait for the Right One. The One He has for her. Because it's going to knock her socks off. Like this does.

I love you, Stephen. I love you so much.

"Praise Him Like You're at a Ballgame!"

Tonight, at church, we were encouraged again to "open up," to "praise Him with all our might," to "praise Him Like You're at a Ballgame" or whatever other venue where we feel it's all right to "let it all out" and cheer and praise God with abandon...

As usual, tonight I just stood there, having an internal dialogue with God: "They have no idea what they're asking, do they?"

Well, I should start by saying that I don't give a rat's hindside who's winning a ballgame or who just scored a point or two or three or six or whatever they're scoring at the time...The most I've done is whistle loudly or clap for a team (and I often do that for whichever team did something really cool, to the chagrin of whoever is standing beside me proudly wearing school colors)...

But this "Praising Him with all your might"...???

Tonight, as they were encouraging us, I just thought, "If I really did that, if I really praised Him like that, with all my might, I would probably be hauled off to the looney bin..."

Because when I praise, often every fibre of my being responds...I can literally feeeeeel it within me, from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. I feel like my soul is a separate BEING within me, pushing itself hard against the wall of my flesh (I often feel "real" pain when this happens.) And it takes all of the self-control I have not to jump a mile high, or stand on the pew and jump as high as possible into the air, or run circles around the church and altars and whatever else I can do to expend spiritual energy while exalting my Lord!!!

Sorry, but I'm not doing that in a church service. If and when I do that, I'll do it in my prayer time or at church when no one is there...If I "unleash"--and that'll be exactly what it is--it won't be for anyone's glory but HIS. I'm no "show-boater."

But I promise you this...if and when I "unleash" for Him, I'll put EVERY OUNCE OF MY ENERGY AND BEING INTO IT, because I am FREAKING SERIOUS ABOUT HIM and LOVING HIM and THANKING HIM for EVERYTHING HE IS...

My all-time favorite song, "The Happy Song," is a song that is never-ending. It goes something like this, "I could sing unending song, of how He saved my soul. And I could dance a million miles, because of His great love..." THAT'S ME. If I ever started praising Him with all my might, I'd never stop. I can promise you that. And I'd probably keep praising until my body seized up and I went into a coma or seizures or something.

Seriously.

So, when you see me standing very still the next time they call for folks to "Praise Him Like You're at A Ballgame," maybe you'll understand why...

*smile*

Christian Unity

Ephesians 4:5 says, "There is one Lord, one faith, and one baptism."

I believe this. I believe that, though our various interpretations of scripture differ and have caused centuries of division among us, we must begin to understand that our strength INCREASES when we link arms with our fellow believers.

Imbalancing Act

Balance--ever elusive--
The tug-of-war for peace of mind--
Jumbled thoughts and actions
Never-ending expectations:
It's an Imbalancing Act.

This Year. This year I will analyze my life
(Capture it and place it in a jar--
Hoping something comes alight like fire-flies),
And determine how to tip the scale--
Some things have got to be handled.

Yes, I know.
I know what I'm looking for:
What can stay and what must go--
So now I examine the parts.
(As I have done before.)

Life strewn out on the examination table.
Pulling it apart, piece by piece,
Determining which parts are "worthy"
and which are not--it's purely objective.
Some things do not justify my time.

Cast off. Parts of my life.
Where do they end up?
Where do they go when they are discarded?
Nonetheless, the experts agree
That I will be much better off without the appendages.

Still top-heavy after days of drizzle and hard work.
I am still walking off-kilter.
I don't understand this!
I have rid myself of nearly everything--
These old, scratched spectacles alone remain.

End of Day Ramblings

"Hello?" I answer the phone, with bobby pins in my mouth, balancing a comb and Iphone in one hand, hair spray in the other.

"Sis? Are you there yet?"

"Nope. Still at home. In the bathroom getting ready. Had a late start."

"Oh. Hey, will you tell Momma something for me, when you see her?"

"Sure."

"Just tell her I love her."

"Did you call her? She has her cell phone, I think."

"I tried. No one answered."

"Well, it's raining out today. Pretty bad. Maybe they're still en route."

"Maybe."

"I'll tell her, Amanda. I should get there right before the surgery...If they don't take her early. I'll tell her when I see her, okay?"

I can hear the relief in her voice: "Thanks, sis."

Mornings for me are difficult anyway, but getting up before dawn on a rainy morning out, thinking about my Momma and this surgery, made it even worse. I felt like I was literally forcing myself to keep going:

"Get up. You can't afford to hit the snooze again. Get up. The doctors won't wait for you. ... Get a bath. Get a towel first..." I forced myself out of bed, forced myself to the bathroom, and forced myself to keep going even when I couldn't seem to find anything I needed to make "leaving" a reality.

I called my Mother as soon as I got off of the phone with my sister.

"Momma!"

"Yes, honey? Where are you?"

"Still at the house. Are you at the hospital?"

"Yes."

I pulled my phone away and looked at the clock. Quickly calculating, I said, "I'll be there just in time, Momma. I'll get there as soon as I can."

"Just don't rush, baby. Drive safely, okay?"

"I will."

Everything felt like it was going in slow motion. I couldn't get the horrific images or thoughts out of my mind. It didn't help anything that nothing was where it should be...my two-year-old had apparently raided my purse again last night. At one point, I was tempted just to fall into the bed again--claiming it "fate" that I wasn't able to go...I even practiced saying, "It just wasn't meant to be...Nothing was working out..."

But I finally got it together. Got in the van and headed that way through the slick streets. It rained the entire way...So hard that I was afraid to turn on the radio lest I got distracted...So hard I couldn't help but thinking of the inherent dangers of the roadway. I hit standing water and the car hydroplanes...I sit straighter, eyes focusing...I slow down and get in the right lane. I will go as slow as I need to. Momma wants me there alive.

When I finally arrived, I found they had already taken Momma back for preparations to be made. I felt deflated.

Then, my sister Heather called for me. "Do you want to see her before she goes in? She's just had some happy gas..."

"Yes!" I exclaimed and rushed to meet her. They led me back through two sets of huge double doors, back to rows of rooms with sheets for doors. Momma was in the one with a giant "2" labeled above it. My sister pulled back the sheet for me and I walked in.

"Momma!" I met her stare. She was still alert. "Momma, how are you?"

"I'm so glad you're here," she said.

The attendant looked as if she needed an explanation.

My sister offered, "This is my sister, Shirley. She just drove in. Our other sister has called multiple times..."

My mom whispered, "She lives in Oklahoma City."

"Momma, Amanda called." I said, thankful for the opportunity to do as I'd promised. "She wanted me to tell you she loves you."

I saw a tear fall onto my Momma's cheek.

"We love you, Momma." I said, holding her hand.

"I love you, too," she said. I could see the fear in her eyes.

"Momma, it's gonna be okay." I said, and slipped away.

Reflections on Ministry

I grew up in a small town in California, the granddaughter of a the area's local minister. My grandfather, John Carl Wainwright, or "Brother Bill," as they referred to him, was the minister there in a community called Delft, just a few miles from Dinuba, California. My grandmother, Robbie Jean Williams Wainwright, was a GREAT woman of faith and example of what a godly mother and grandmother and pastor's wife should be.

My Poppa was my pastor until I was 26 years old. A few years after we moved from Dinuba to a community called Liberty, in Oklahoma, he and Grandma followed. After pastoring for a short time in Skiatook, OK, they transferred to the Muldrow church, as pastors there. When I graduated from college, I began attending Poteau First Assembly of God (OK). In 2007, I was given the opportunity to become the youth pastor there.

Just before I became youth pastor, my Poppa had to step down from ministry position there at the Muldrow Church of God. His health had been rapidly declining, and after nearly half a century as a pastor, he and Grandma retired. (I have no doubt that they would still be in the ministry today had it not been for their health. For them, the ministry is a life calling.) Shortly after my Poppa made the announcement, the congregation voted my Mother in as pastor. In the years and months prior to Poppa's resignation, she had gone ahead, in faith, and gotten her credentials. She was taken aback, to tell the truth, when she discovered she had been voted in as pastor, almost with a 100% vote.

My mother is a great pastor and woman of God. She is a GREAT and LIVING example of what FAITH is. Like her father and mother before her, she LIVES the life, "walks the walk," not just "talks the talk."

I think, certainly, the most important things I learned under their leadership included the following: a firm trust, faith, and knowledge of the Word of God; I have seen them, their example, and they should me how to "LIVE the FAITH"; they taught me to be disciplined, determined, always seeking the Will of God in everything, in every part of my life.

I have great examples.

I have had the opportunity to be under the leadership of great pastors at Poteau First Assembly. I think one of the most essential things I learned sitting under the pastorate of Keith and Cathy Williams was that it was "okay" to "BE REAL"--with yourself, with people, with the congregation. In my own work in ministry, I get that comment A LOT: "You're so 'real'!" "You just say what you're thinking, what you're going through!"...Yes, I guess I do. But that's because I saw my pastors, how open they were with us, and how much I truly appreciated the fact that they let us know that they were REAL PEOPLE with REAL STRUGGLES too. Watching them has inspired me in so many ways...But with regard to what God is calling me to do? I believe that the FREEDOM to worship, the FREEDOM to "be REAL" or be who God has called me to be has been their single greatest influence on my life.

Enough for now...But as I read over this, I am reminded of how BLESSED I have been in my lifetime to be shown the Truth...I appreciate, so much!, God's mercy and grace and love.