At home in My love

My friend Amanda texted this verse to me this morning. 

“Remain in My love.”

 How is it that friends know what we need before we do?

The MSG translation says “Make yourselves at home in My love.”

I have been at home in His love from before I have memories. 

This picture of my parents and I speaks to me so much right now.

 Look how young they are! They have so much still to learn, about Jesus, and each other, parenting and the body of Christ. 

 But they had already given me to Jesus.

I was already “abiding” in His love. (NKJV)

Hold onto that, please, while I change subjects. 

This is my new insulin pump. I got it, and a new CGM, on Wednesday. 

The potential for the teamwork is beautiful, and I am hopeful, but learning new tech while recovering from several other recent medical “issues” is complicated. I might be slightly overwhelmed.

And after a beautiful three weeks off, the seizures decided they were ready to come back early Thursday morning.  

My blood sugars have been ALL OVER the place, and this new machine is set to “tell me” every time. The seizures were more exhausting then usual, just because I am weak after a few weeks off. Mom was having trouble with her heart, again, and a relative of Andy’s passed away yesterday and my nephew was having some sort of allergic reaction, over and over, at 5 months old. 

I was discouraged. 

I was letting discouragement win. 

Then, I greeted this morning with that first verse in a text and very shortly after the verse shown on my insulin pump picture popped up in my reading.

“Haven’t you learned to trust (me) yet?”

I laughed.

I might have cried a little too. 

I think my Jesus might have to be frustrated with me. 

“Still no trust Bethany?”

Then I looked up at the mantle, at the sign Andy bought me just a few days ago, the reminder that I can do this...because I don’t actually have to do anything. 

Just let faith be bigger than fear. 

Remember that I can trust Him. 

Hold onto that promise that I am “at home” in His love. 

That is so simple. 

It is enough.

Stay on the boat?

The story of Jesus calling to his disciples, pulling them away from what they knew and what they were comfortable with, has always been exciting for me. The chance to go and follow Him is beautiful. Stirring. Inspiring. 

 I wanted to be James and John, Simon and Andrew, walking away from the boat that I already knew how to navigate. Learning something more. 

 But until yesterday I had never given Zebedee much thought. I respected him, for raising men that were willing to walk away and brave enough to try something scary, but truly, I hadn’t really given him much thought. 

 Yesterday this verse reached out and grabbed me when it was on the “highlight” list of a woman I respect a lot. It made me ask questions of myself. 

 Then, when it was a part of my “assigned” reading this morning, I figured it was time to really give it some attention. 

 When is it time to be Zebedee? 

 Sometimes, are we supposed to just stay behind, on the boat? 

 My boys are becoming men. At 16 and 14, their ability to make decisions isn’t fully mature and the strength of their convictions is not done growing. They have so much more to learn still, about Jesus, and people, and right vs wrong and the blurry place in the “middle” that confuses us all at some point. 

 But they are becoming men. 

 Right this minute I think I might be having a Zebedee moment. 

 The book of Mark doesn’t say if he argued with them, encouraged them, or simply sat quietly while they walked away. Did he want them to be brave? Did he know they were about to be part of something that changed the world?

 I have to assume, knowing the rest of the story, that he was a man who was seeking after God. What could he do other than hand those boys of his over to Jehovah?

 I have always wanted to be one of the disciples, but right this minute I just want to be strong enough to be Zebedee. 

 When are we called to stay on the boat? 

 I don’t know the answer to that question, but I want to learn. 

 I want my boys to be each a “man after God’s own heart”, like David. 

 Not perfect. None of us find perfection. 

 But aware of their calling, aware of their faults, aware of their Savior. 

 I will continue to pray over them, forever. I will offer them advice when they are willing to hear it, forever. But I cannot be what makes them. I cannot be what holds them. I cannot. 

 So I will seek to be as strong as Zebedee, and listen to my Savior when I am called to stay on the boat. 

 Join me?

Visible love

People are beautiful.

Truly. 

We have so many different personalities, opinions, passions and interests.

But visible, tangible love is just so beautiful.

The body of Christ here in Troy stepped up and poured love out on us my first several weeks home from the hospital. 

And it was sooooo hard for me! 

I want to BE the hands and feet. I don’t want to need them!

Oh, the beautiful things God teaches you, and the beautiful people HE uses to help you learn. 

I was struggling. Obviously, my body really was fairly messed up the first several days. 

I needed help...whether I wanted to accept it or not.

But the last two days I think that, perhaps, I didn’t really NEED it any more. 

I could make something to eat. 

We could eat frozen, or fast food, or make do with sandwiches. 

What I did NEED though, was the amazing peace that comes from love poured out over you. 

I was “down”, feeling useless and without purpose when I was reminded that I am still serving Jesus.

My words could be filled with His words. 

My hands weren’t very capable, but that didn’t make me useless. 

Thank you, amazing people who poured love out on me, and amazing people who asked me for love. I needed you both! 

Tomorrow is the WADA. We will hopefully learn enough to answer some questions about surgery. 

But, even if we don’t learn enough still, I have love pouring over me, and I have love to give back to others. 

That is enough. 

Now, go out there and pour love out, in whatever way God had asked you to share it. 

Be blessed my friends! 

The first year

 Today is an anniversary.

 The anniversary of my father’s leaving us, of joining with Jesus, of passing away. Of Death.

 I suppose every day is an anniversary of something. Memories come and remind of the past. Words come and bring both sorrow and hope.
 My amazing Jesus has been so very involved today, using those words for hope in the midst of sorrow. Please, please, don’t ever lose sight of the strength He gives when we aren’t expecting.
 This morning as I prepped for the day a new song came on, at least new to me. It is called “Show Me”, and sung by Audrey Assad. Listen, if you have a moment. I interpreted it to be about mourning. Maybe not only mourning a person, but a dream or a hope or a desire.
 The line it starts with, “You could plant me like a tree beside the river. You could tangle me in soil and let my roots run wild...but for now just let me cry,” fit so perfectly with the words of Emerson, which had already reached out and struck me this morning that I had to stop and catch my breath.

 This Emerson quote is long, but I can’t find it in my heart to subtract anything.

  “And yet the compensations of calamity are made apparent to the understanding also, after long intervals of time. A fever, a mutilation, a cruel disappointment, a loss of wealth, a loss of friends, seems at the moment unpaid loss, and unpayable. But the sure years reveal the deep remedial force that underlies all facts. The death of a dear friend, wife, brother, lover, which seemed nothing but privation, somewhat later assumes the aspect of a guide or genius; for it commonly operates revolutions in our way of life, terminates an epoch of infancy or of youth which was waiting to be closed, breaks up a wonted occupation, or a household, or style of living, and allows the formation of new ones more friendly to the growth of character. It permits or constrains the formation of new acquaintances, and the reception of new influences that prove of the first importance to the next years; and the man or woman who would have remained a sunny garden flower, with no room for its roots and too much sunshine for its head, by the falling of the walls and the neglect of the gardener, is made the banyan of the forest, yielding shade and fruit to wide neighborhoods of men.”

— Self-Reliance and Other Essays by Ralph Waldo Emerson
http://a.co/5xwkdFX

Oh, that last line! Don’t be sad if you are no longer able to be a peaceful, quiet, pretty little flower in a garden. Know that God is taking you farther, making you grow into a tree, and thus providing shade for the world around you. Like the blog I wrote recently, about the verse with the lines “so that”...this struck me the same way. God is using every moment. Even the hard ones.
 Perhaps you need to ask Him for a moment just to cry, but don’t get stuck there. Don’t be content there.

 The chorus of the Audrey Assad song says, “Bind up these broken bones. Mercy bend and breathe me back to life...but not before You show me how to die.”

 How to die.

 What do we need to die to, so that we can be a tree, rather than a flower? What can we mourn and then let go?

 Seek truth. Find the pain that makes you better and stronger and more of what HE has called you to be and then celebrate it. Cry those tears, then rejoice in what they create.
 Blessings my friends.

The next step

A small moment of truth, that I don’t really want to share, but think I am supposed to. 

You never reach perfect. 

Duh. 

You all know that. 

But have you accepted it? 

God is not done with you. 

God will never be done with you. 

God is not “done” with me.

God will never be “done” with me. 

I don’t get to find my purpose and just be good at it. 

I have to keep learning, and keep growing, and keep letting HIM lead. 

Some days that is harder than others. 

Spiritually and physically.

I am struggling with words. 

I want to have depth, and meaning, and bring growth to your life. 

I want God to use me dramatically.

I want to have a purpose that changes the world. 

 Instead, I have a headache, and some fear of what comes next. 

This is what comes next.

https://www.epilepsy.com/learn/treating-seizures-and-epilepsy/surgery/tests-surgery/wada-test

Next Friday, Valentine’s Day, we move to the next test. 

The week in the hospital revealed a lot, but some of it brought new questions. 

How much of my brain do I use? (Perhaps more than they expected?)

How much of it can I afford to do without?

Definitely questions I want to know the answer to before we decide to cut part out. 

On a happier note:

Last day with staples! 

Don’t they look cool?

27 of them, all over my head, ready to come out tomorrow!

Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say, rejoice!

Philippians 4:4

Make that choice.

Accept that you aren’t perfect, Spiritually or physically.

Then get those staples yanked out and take the next step, rejoicing as you go!

Be blessed my friends!

So that...

 I wasn’t super faithful to write while I was inpatient at UAB. I had some really great, really clear moments. But I also had some really foggy, really confused moments too. That is all the excuse I have to offer. :)
 I am home now. Sleeping in my own bed for two night in a row, with my Andy there next to me. Only staples on my head, nothing high tech. Eating “real” food, while sitting at a table, surrounded by my amazing teens.
 It seems slightly unreal.
 Too good to be true.
 So, when this verse stood out to me this morning, I respected it, a LOT.

 SO THAT...

 We are comforted, we find comfort, we are given comfort, SO THAT we can know how to give it.
 That is breathtaking.
 Every single pain, every single one, can serve a purpose.
 WILL serve a purpose.
 Every comfort we receive, we now know how to give.
 Some are easy to share-

Andy bought me donut holes, small enough bites that I could handle through the pain. 

I can share that joy, the excitement of that simple joy, with others who desire that tiny, easy joy. 

 That tiny, easy, reminder. 

Joy can be found in little tiny bites. 

EEG’S leave you sticky and gross, but with much more annoyance than pain. 

I can share that comfort with others. The simple joy of a shower that you have taken for granted and then suddenly have great respect for. 

I still can’t wash my head, but my body is clean and fresh and oh so appreciated. 

Simple comfort. 

The SEEG leaves some blood behind, 

and some ugly staples, 

but they come out, go away.

A few scars in the skin, soon hidden by hair and smiles. 

Comfort I am now experiencing and will know how to share. 

This picture won’t change direction.

Technology isn’t my friend today...but that seems fitting to go with the theme. 

I have experienced the comfort of an amazing man, who is my teammate. 

Team. 

Together.  

Different strengths and different weaknesses, but a team. 

My team, given as such an inspiring gift. 

Comfort given. 

Comfort I can hopefully know how to properly share.

He sat and held a pager like this twice. Once as they put wires in, and once as they pulled them out. 

And the comfort given during both those times is indescribable, by amazing people who visibly showed love during my entire week in the hospital.

(But a special thank you to Carrie, who knew how to let him be a “manly man” during a time of fear and yet also how to show him love)

Leaving us with this fascinating pile of wires that at one point were screwed into my head. 

And now aren’t. 

Healing is still occurring.

Knowledge is still needed, from more testing, before we have answers about what comes next and what my future holds. Whether seizures can be “beaten”.

 But I have experienced so much comfort, and now will have the experience to share it with others.

If that is the only thing I ever get from this, that is enough. 

I will ask for more. 

I will pray that God gives us knowledge from this and that doctors have ideas of how to use it for repair of my brain and body. 

But...

Comfort to share with others is enough. 

“So that...When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort.”

Every single pain, every single one, can serve a purpose. 

 WILL serve a purpose. 

Think on that, my friends. Feel the amazing comfort that you have received, from many different experiences, and choose to remember the gift that it is. 

 Then turn around and give it. 

Give comfort.

Be blessed!

In Union

Read that again, please. 

 In union with HIM. 

Just a reminder....

With Him, IN Him, 

Each step along the way. 

 Here we are, several days in-patient at UAB now. Two full seizures already, and one partial, so we are learning a lot. I am foggy and groggy still, recovering from surgery, seizures, and a couple ridiculous blood sugars, but making improvement. I don’t think that I am quite “me”, but I have a lot of wonderful people taking very good care of me. There is so much to learn, about my body, and about the amazing people all around me.
 I continue to ask for prayers. Prayers for seizures, yes. But prayers also for my whole self to bring glory to my Savior, each step along the way. I don’t want to take any “excuse” to be less, but am instead trying to become more. Every step along the way, more IN UNION with my Savior. Challenge me. Please. Challenge me
 There are so many things that are yet unknown. So many things for which we still wait for understanding. While we wait we choose to worship. While we wait we choose to celebrate.

 In UNION is beautiful!

 Take a moment, please, and think about where you are. Appreciate the fact that when you ask, HE is there. Wherever “there” is.
 In the hospital.
 In the car.
 In a plane over top of a different continent.
 HE is there.
 That is enough.

 Much love my friends.

Countdown

This verse rings true- I have startled myself multiple times in the last few days, passing by a mirror and being surprised. I forget that the hair is gone :) Makes me laugh. 

 We are driving up to Birmingham right now. The Pre-op appt and a 2 hour scan for part of a research study are today. We find out exactly how many sensors (a dozen is the estimate) will be inserted into my brain, and what time we need to be there tomorrow morning. The details will be worked out. It is feeling very real. 

 So, the request for a spirit of calm is what I ask for. Please, pray that over me, and over Andy as well. 

 Starting Thursday we will be asking for seizures, so that the sensors can do their job and identify exactly which part of my brain is misfiring and causing the seizures. But for now, please pray for me to let go of the need to control. Pray for me to trust my Savior to be working, even when I am overwhelmed or confused. 

 James 1:5 stood out to me today- “if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously...” 

 He gives generously. 

 Not just barely enough. 

 Not with payment expected. 

 Not only if you have earned it. 

 Generously. 

 So, I ask. I ask Him, and I ask for you to ask Him with me. 

 Be filled with joy my friends, even when it is overwhelming. 

 Be at peace, even when it seems far away. 

 Be blessed by His presence, at all times. 

 With love!  

Choose what you see

This verse has comforted me more often than you can imagine. 

 IN Bethany.

 With me. Through me. For me. 

In me. 

The verse literally means the place, the small town outside Jerusalem, but I have always been so grateful my parents named me after a place where Jesus had been. 

It has only been a few hours. I can’t give a summary of how I feel or what I have learned yet. But when I went to post this picture I went to the Bible.com app first and, sure enough, that verse jumped out and grabbed me. I planned to seek the Psalms, and can’t even tell you how I ended up in Mark, but there it was. 

Reminding me that Jesus is IN me. 

Lots of little ponytails

The first, startling, cut. 

By this point I was, perhaps, overwhelmed...

So Andy was silly in the completion of his.

Maybe it won’t be long enough to use, but I have to offer it. 

I have to try. 

This picture isn’t very clear, but it shows how amazing my husband is. He encouraged me to get dressed up, as several friends had suggested, and take a cute picture. My Andy is amazing.

My men. My crew. My strong support team. 

My Jesus has blessed me so much. 

That is my challenge to you- choose to see the blessing. 

Choose to find the good.

Choose to celebrate. 

Choose. 

Be blessed my friends, with Joy that overcomes.

Sparrows and hair

“For only a penny you can buy two sparrows, yet not one sparrow falls to the ground without your Father's consent. As for you, even the hairs of your head have all been counted. So do not be afraid; you are worth much more than many sparrows!”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭10:29-31‬ ‭GNB‬‬

One week left til surgery. One week with my hair. 

 In all honesty, vanity has been my hardest hurdle with this surgery. I didn’t think I was vain. I don’t wear makeup. I don’t care about what clothes are in fashion. I don’t even really “fix” my hair....but apparently I love it more than I realized. 

It is mine. 

It is individual and carefree and fun. 

It almost seems to have its own opinions, and I let it.

It has defined me. BIG hair is hard to miss, and it has been BIG for a long time!

So I don’t want to say goodbye.

I had decided that today was the day I was going to write about this battle and ask for input and prayers.

 Guess what? Today in my pre-picked and pre-scheduled reading, this verse was there. 

HE has counted my hair. 

HE lined that up for me. 

The verse I needed on the day that I needed it.

The simplicity of that is beautiful. 

I am so very very blessed. 

So, here is the discussion. I want to donate my hair. It seems a waste to just chop it off and throw it away, which is what will happen in the operating room. I need to do it before hand. And since it really isn’t long enough to just cut, I will need to buzz it to make it long enough to share. Please, pray I am brave enough for that, several days before it is time for surgery. 

 We are considering Saturday and Andy is going to join me and buzz his too. My children are willing, but I have told them that I love their hair too much to ask them to buzz it off. 

Next question, where have you donated your hair before? Have any of you been blessed by one of the donation places? I know quite a few people who have had cancer, or their children have had cancer. Any input from any of you?

Most importantly though the reminder, again, that HE has counted your every hair. 

Every single one. 

He cares about the ones changing color.

He cares about the ones falling out. 

He cares about the buzz cuts and the bleached out and the braided. He cares about the long and the frizzy and the purple. 

Whether you can see it or accept it, He cares. 

I do too. 

Be blessed my friends. Every single hair on your head. 

Both

The post I made yesterday created a beautiful outpouring of love. 

 I want to share a quote from a testimony sent by my Sunday School teacher from middle school. The story of Jay and Katherine Wolf is full of both pain and joy. (Look them up)

 I needed to hear this...maybe you do to? 

 ”There is a lot of redemption of our stories on earth but there can be a sting that is lifelong and that is okay AND why would we think it would not be that way? Who lied to who to say that it can’t be good, so good, and so hard and sad at the same time.”

  Jesus had sorrow, that weighed him down. Read that verse.

 Who said we won’t or can’t or are wrong to have it? Sorrow is real and strong and heavy duty. But so is Joy. It is also real and strong and heavy duty. 

 You can have both. 

 You will have both. 

 You are right to have both. 

 At the same time. 

 Thank you my amazing friends for your support.

Recognizing

I took a picture of my shadow this summer. It looks like the shadow of anyone and everyone. There are practically no distinguishing features. My hair is pulled back. My skin in shadow colored. You can’t see my face or even that I am wearing my favorite earrings. I am just a blur. You wouldn’t know it was me if I hadn’t told you that it was. 

 That is sort of how I am feeling about my Jesus right now. He is a shadow. He is here, I am confident, but He is a bit of a blur. It is hard to recognize Him when I am distracted by so much around me. Then, this was the focal verse this morning and I just felt like I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t the only one. These men had walked with Him, seen Him face to face and they still didn’t recognize Him at that moment. 

 That is the key part- “at that moment”. If you read the verses before and after there is so much more to the story, and eventually they recognize Him again. But He was always there, walking with them. Helping them sort through the confusion. Reminding them of truth when they couldn’t understand it...even when they didn’t recognize Him.

 So I am passing that reminder along. Sometimes we don’t recognize Him. Perhaps things are blurry or shadowed or simply unclear. 

 But HE is here. 

 Keep looking.

And Yet...

 I spent all of Thursday at UAB, Kirklin Clinic. I met my brain surgeon, the woman who is going to drill holes in my head and place electric probes inside my brain. I had a CT with contrast (which I do not recommend) and an MRI with contrast (which I have had enough times that I don't even really mind it). 

 Yet, I walked away truly filled with joy, truly rejoicing. 

YET is the key word. 

 I don't know if you can clearly see the picture that is the background for that scripture. It is a quilted background, with a picture of a woman holding a child sewn into it, using the abstract and crazy to create a picture that is touching. 

 After meeting the brain surgeon we had an hour to waste before the CT scan, so we walked the hospital. This picture was hanging on a wall as you entered the children's wing. 

 It was a beautiful reminder that it could be worse. It could be my child who was sick. 

 We found a chapel and went in to join several others already there in prayer. A woman with her head covered, perhaps a more conservative branch of Christian, or Muslim or Hindu or Jewish, I didn't ask. A man with his prayer rug, almost for sure a Muslim. I prayed for them, that while they are hurting and seeking peace that my Savior would reach out to them and pour His love over them. 

 It was a beautiful reminder that it could be worse. I might not so closely know my Savior and have my Jesus at the center, pouring out Joy without price or requirement in the middle of stress and fear. 

 While I was in my MRI Andy sat in a waiting room and listened to a man cough and hack and appear to be in pain, yet he was not the one being scanned. It was the female that came with him that was called back. 

 It was a beautiful reminder that it could be worse. We could both be sick. 

 Reminder after reminder crossed through my day. People who didn't have an Andy. People who were obviously and visibly broken. People who were confused or afraid or alone. 

 That challenge "....And YET".

 I will rejoice. 

 Go read Habakkuk 3. Read what comes before the "and yet". 

 Spend a day wandering around a hospital, with your eyes open. 

 Read a blog or listen to a conversation or simply be aware of the pain around you. 

 Then get in your car that runs, and stop for easy affordable food on your way home, where your children are waiting for you with bedtime hugs. 

 Choose the "and yet"...

 Make the choice to rejoice. 

Be Still

He says “Be still.” 

 But nowhere does it say that the world around you will be still. Those waves are still rolling. The clouds, carrying storms, are still around you. The dark and the light battle each other. 

 We are to be still and KNOW that HE is GOD even when the clouds look overwhelming. 

 KNOW that HE is enough even when the waves are ugly. 

 KNOW that HE cares even when the darkness looks like it might be winning. 

 HE doesn’t ask us to have it all together. HE doesn’t expect us to fight alone. HE gives and gives, even when we are too overwhelmed to be capable of seeing. 

 Be still. 

Who I am becoming

I have heard bad news more then I can actually handle recently. More than I can handle.
 I am supposed to be a woman of faith, leading others in truth, and I was yelling at my Savior recently.
The beautiful thing is that, as always, He let me, and loved me, and wiped my tears.

 I went searching in the Word and realized that this verse comes across very very differently in different translations.

“All things are done according to God's plan and decision; and God chose us to be his own people in union with Christ because of his own purpose, based on what he had decided from the very beginning.”
‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭1:11‬ ‭GNB‬‬

“Through our union with Christ we too have been claimed by God as his own inheritance. Before we were even born, he gave us our destiny; that we would fulfill the plan of God who always accomplishes every purpose and plan in his heart.”
‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭1:11‬ ‭TPT‬‬

“also we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to His purpose who works all things after the counsel of His will,”
‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭1:11‬ ‭NASB‬‬

I cannot agree with the first translation. Not all things are done according to God’s plan. Absolutely not, because He gave mankind freedom to do what they choose. BUT, as the second translation says, He always accomplishes His purpose, after the counsel of His will.
 Do you hear the difference there? Not every thing that happens is in His plan, but His plan always comes about.

 I was crying to Him about trying to see the good coming from a situation. I have been able to, always throughout my life, find the good that can come from bad things.

  This time I can’t.

 Yet, in the middle of the night, He woke me and clarified so beautifully the difference.
 “Good doesn’t have to come from everything...but who we become from everything CAN be good.”

 I choose who I become. The bad things around me aren’t under my control. I can’t make people good. I can’t change the wrongs that hurt others. I can’t make good come from evil. Sometimes it is just evil. Satan won that battle, that soul, that relationship, whatever.
 But I can become good. Better. Even when I can only see bad.

 Keep trying.

 I need you my friends. Please, have hope. Please, try more. Please, share love and joy and patience in the middle of the crazy world around you.

 Keep trying.

Prison songs

This verse is not the beautiful, flowing, inspiring type of verse that you normally post in a picture online. 

 But did you really look at it? 

 They were in the dungeon, in stocks, after being beaten without a trial.

 And yet....

 They were singing and praying and encouraging those around them. Paul and Silas were in prison without trial or reason, but it doesn’t say why those around them were there. Perhaps they “deserved” to be there, perhaps they didn’t. Not for us to say. Paul and Silas definitely didn’t “deserve” it, but they were using their time there for good. They were encouraging the other prisoners, praising their Savior, lifting their concerns to Him. 

 Where are you right now my friend? 

 Feel like you “deserve” to be there? 

 That part doesn’t really matter. It isn’t the point. 

 What you do right now- around midnight, after being beaten, without a trial.

 Wherever you are - in a dungeon, far from home, surrounded by people who disagree with you or perhaps even hate you.

 Sing those hymns.

 Lift up your prayers (and then perhaps let them go?). 

 Encourage those around you- co-workers, fellow patients and the doctors who surround you, enemies, toddlers who exhaust you- whomever they are. 

 The story turns out well for Paul and Silas at this point. But later prison is the end for Paul. We don’t know where we end, or how, or when. But we do know that they were singing right that minute. 

 I want to sing too. 

 Join me! 

 Be blessed my friends, no matter where you are today. Sing! 

More than enough

“‘All we have here are five loaves and two fish.’ they replied.” 

Matthew 14:17

“All we have here”...

 I suppose most of us know this story. People had come to hear Jesus teach, out in the countryside. They had been out there all day, listening to Him share truth and being excited about someone who spoke love and forgiveness.
 But the daylight was fading and the people had realized it was time to eat. Past time.
Jesus told his disciples, the people who followed Him non-stop, that they should feed the crowd. And their response was “all we have here” is not enough. We can’t. It is impossible. How could You even suggest that?

 How often do I do that? How often do I suggest that perhaps I know better than He does? I know more, surely, because “all I have” could not possibly be enough.

 Five loaves and two fish was enough to feed the crowd. Thousands of people satisfied, with leftovers to take home. It was not just enough, it was MORE than enough.

 More than enough.

 Be blessed my friends as you celebrate that. All that you have to offer is more than enough. You just have to offer it.

An army of knights

"Do not be conquered by evil, but conquer evil with good." 

Romans 12:21 HCSB

 When I hear words like "conquer" I think of knights in shining armor. Someone strong, and powerful and ready to fight. Someone brave. 

 Conquer seems such a powerful word. 

 It sounds so much bigger then just "beat"...but really, that is all that it is. 

 "Beat". 

 How do we beat evil? With the opposite of evil - kind and gentle and good and patient. 

 It sounds easy when you say it that way. Why are we as humans such failures at beating evil, at conquering the bad all around us? 

 I think it is often because we want to do it by ourselves, without help. That sin, of being self-centric even in matters of good, is the sin that destroys so much. Alone makes us weak.

 My challenge today is for you to share. Conquer evil with good by allowing someone else to carry some of the burden. Beat evil with kindness by simply listening, then sharing, then listening and sharing again.  

 Please, don't be a knight alone. Be brave and join an army of knights, working together. 

Every single thread

Sovereign God, let the dark threads of my life be interwoven with the tapestry of Your eternal purpose." 

Henry Gariepy, Portraits of Perseverance

 We all know what a tapestry is.  

 "A piece of thick textile fabric with pictures or designs formed by weaving colored weft threads or by embroidering on canvas, used as a wall hanging or furniture covering." 

 Got it. 

But, have you ever paid much attention to a tapestry? Truly looked at one and seen the detail? 

 Each thread has its own color, its own placement, its own purpose. 

 Light or dark. Plain or elegant. Strong or delicate. Each one different. Each one necessary. Each one beautiful, in the grand scheme of the tapestry. 

 I read that prayer this morning and was reminded that it is true in my life. 

 Every dark thread is interwoven with the others, creating something awe inspiring. 

 Every thread is necessary. 

Interwoven is such a beautiful word. 

 Our Father is always making things work together. I want to have faith to remember that when I can only see one thread. I want to see the interwoven beauty around me, behind me, and ahead of me. 

 And that tapestry? It is insulation against the cold. That useful piece of art is made from lots and lots of different small things working together to make a bigger, stronger, complete thing with a purpose and a job. 

 UAB called yesterday. I am moving to the next phase of this journey. Sometime soon, but not scheduled yet, I will be having an intracranial EEG. Monitoring of my seizures from electrodes placed inside my brain. That test will help identify exactly where I am seizing, and whether the surgery or the pacemaker is the better option. But they are fairly confident that one of those options will be helpful for my future. 

 So, even though this dark thread is slightly terrifying, it is also full of hope. 

 Maybe, maybe, maybe I can be done with seizures? 

 That is a thread worth following. I am confident that my tapestry will be interwoven with dark and light, strong and fragile, plain and elegant. But it will be beautiful, and I will trust my Savior with each thread along the way. 

What do you see?

"Your inner attitudes do not have to reflect your outward circumstances." Carol McLeod 

So, what do you see in that picture? 

Cheerful flowers?

A tangled mess? 

Pollen that will make you sneeze?

Passion and beauty and creativity and new life? 

Now, what do you see in this one? 

A trap leading to death?

The source of food, and thus life, for one of God's creatures?

Stickiness?

The breath-taking reflection of diamonds as dew catches the rays of the sun as it peeks into a new day?

What do you see?

 That opening quote spoke to me about a month ago. I wrote a FB post about it, if you want to read it. I have been reminded, over and over again recently, that what I choose to see is what I will see. 

 I spent the beginning of last week on the phone, a lot. One problem after another with insurance and medical clearance and communication. I have a wonderful primary care doc here in Troy, an amazing team of docs at UAB and, actually, a really great insurance company through the military. Yet, multiple times in a row it just kept getting messed up. Over and over. Phone call after phone call. Wednesday morning when I showed up at UAB for the last test I needed for the next step in this seizure surgery process, boom - it had gone through incorrectly and had me approved for anesthesia. Getting put to sleep was not part of the day...and the test was supposed to start right that minute. 

 For just a split second I thought about quitting. 

 Yet...I couldn't. So, I got on the phone again. They passed my cell phone around the office for about 30 minutes. Then, boom (again)- it was fixed. 

 Does that question come up in your world? When are we supposed to quit? When are we supposed to keep fighting? When is God calling us to let go and when is satan trying to keep us from getting to where we are supposed to be? 

 I don't know the answer to that. There is no easy answer to that. Every single time I have to just stop and ask for THAT time. I have to stop and consider quitting. I have to stop and consider going forward. I cling to Psalm 119:15 "I study your instructions; I examine your teachings." GNB 

 Every single time, my Savior lets me know. 

 We kept going. The testing was done. I had a follow up on Friday. I am approved for the "next step", which is to be placed before "the board" - a group of Neurologists and Neuro surgeons who will all discuss my case. They will all talk about where exactly my brain is mis-firing, and what damage those seizures are causing. They will discuss the risks of surgery, the risks of the "pacemaker" for the brain, the risks of waiting and doing nothing. 

 That "board" happens on Thursday. I assume they will contact me next Monday and tell me what they decided. There will be more tests and more discussions. They will tell me all of the risks and rewards and I get to have the final say, obviously. 

 But right this minute I choose to see that the test went through. I choose to see that step was done. I choose to see that there are several options being discussed. I choose to see more, not less. 

 Choose carefully, my friends, what you will see. 

 Be blessed, as you keep your eyes and your heart open!