Our Father, who art in heaven......

Fatherless. This was how much of my early teen life was spent. At the age of around thirteen, my mother had enough of my father's drinking. He was out of control at this point. He couldn't hold down a job, and when he did work, he selfishly used all of his money to fuel his habit. It was a thirst that couldn't be quenched, even in the face of losing his family. On my brother's birthday that year, my mother was at work, and my brother had some friends over for a sleepover. I remember this clearly because my father left us alone that night. There was a house full of children, unsupervised. This did not go over well with my mom. She gave him the ultimatum...no more drinking, or no more family. He chose the latter. Fatherless. I don't use this term lightly. Everyone has a father, right? From that point on, my father basically disappeared. We would only hear from him on random occasions, and then it was only for him tell us about what a hard time he was having. He chose, instead of holding down a job to support us, to live on the streets, homeless and drunk. Yes, I was fatherless. He missed every birthday, Christmas, Thanksgiving.....and on, and on, and on. Every time he did call, he acted as though we were supposed to feel sorry for him. He had such a hard life. Fatherless. What could motivate a man to abandon his three kids and his wife? This was something that plagued us as children. My mom had to do all of the supporting, and he didn't send any money, ever. He wouldn't work, and if he did he got paid cash to avoid his check being garnished. I couldn't understand what we had done to him that he didn't love us anymore. Still, as children, we stuck up for him when my mother was angry, we agreed to meet with him when he was 'passing through' on his homeless journeys, and we continued to honor him and love him as if he were not in the wrong in the least bit. It was a game he played with us. If we felt sorry for him, we didn't have time to feel sorry for the situation he had left us in. Fatherless. Maybe you have found yourself in a similar situation, or have felt abandoned in some way...discarded. You are valuable to God. He wants to be your Father. He wants you to share your heart with him. He will be your support when men fail you. He will guide you through the difficult decisions in life. Sometimes the only place we have to run to is His side. He will never leave you or forsake you. He is the Father you can trust. With Him you will never be fatherless.

Do unto others...

I remember the day I met him. It was the first week of the second grade. He was a new student. As he entered the class I remember thinking that he was a cutie-pie, and I was going to be his friend. Our teacher introduced him, and for the sake of respect, I will use just his first name, Chris. I liked his name. I'm sure of this memory, because the teacher then asked him to spell his last name. It was a difficult, long name. He said then that he didn't know how to spell it. I remember then a sound that came to be familiar when Chris was around. It came from a majority of the class, and it was a mocking laughter. This first day set the stage for Chris' experience on this earth. He was a very nice person. Over the yesrs, I got to know Chris. We were both in the gifted program at our school. He was in Art, and I was in Spotlight. Our classes worked very closely, sometimes on the same projects. We went on school trips together, and got to know one another. I am ashamed to say that I kept Chris at a distance. It seemed like everyone made fun of him, and if you were playing with him, or talking to him, you were targeted too. I really couldn't understand it. He didn't dress different, talk weird, or smell bad. He was exactly like the rest of us, but on his first day, he couldn't spell his last name. In the sixth grade, the gifted class went to a cave. This was the most fascinating, frightening, and fun trip I ever went on. I have yet to rival it in my 30 something years! We were pulling into the driveway of the school, and our gifted teacher was waiting outside her van for us to arrive. She had been crying. As we gathered outside the bus, she began to tell us of a phone call she had received. It was about Chris, and it was bad news. It wasn't until she said his name that I realized he had not attended the trip with us. That night, while all of us were having a blast, unaware of the torment he was enduring inside, Chris took his life. His family found him hanging by a chain in his home. Sixth grade!! My daughter is in the sixth grade! We were shocked as the loss began to sink in. I was extremely ashamed of myself in that I didn't stick up for him, or show him more that I cared about him, or even acted like his friend. We were all guilty. Guilty of making his life so miserable that he could find nothing worth living for. Still to this day, I visit his grave when I can, crying like it was the day I learned he was gone. He was a talented artist, and a good person. He was kind and meek. He would have been a good dad, I think. The lesson I learned from this experienced was that I shouldn't judge anyone or degrade people. God loves everyone equally. There is not a popular crowd in the kingdom, and we would all do well to remember that. If you feel inadequate, or left out, I can relate, but that is not always a reason to isolate yourself. If you feel unwanted or unloved by everyone around you, know that you have a friend that sticks closer than a brother. Jesus shed His blood for you, so that you could spend an eternity with Him. He desires to have a personal relationship with you. Won't you trust Him with your life today? He will never leave you or forsake you. If you have burdens, He will lift them off and give you freedom and peace. He is waiting for you to invite Him into your life, and give him all your troubles and emotions. He can heal your broken heart, and give you a new life. Won't you let Him heal all your wounds this life has dealt you? He has healed mine, and I am sure He can heal yours too.

...trials by fire....

That particular morning, I was thirteen years old. It was early, and a Saturday. There was no school, and I was watching cartoons with my little sister. We were eating cinnamon toast, it was burned, but it was all I knew how to cook. The rest of the family was asleep. Out of nowhere, the kitchen door busted open, and a strange man came charging in. He was screaming, "FIRE! FIRE! GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!" In our pajamas, my sister and I run out of the house to his shouts, "GO NEXT DOOR...CALL 911!" I ran to my next door neighbors house and was banging on the door, I turned around, looked up, and saw smoke billowing from the attic vent on the side of the house. I could smell the acrid smoke, and feel it choking me. I heard a soft roaring coming from the house. We all ran across the street. I was met there by my mother, my step-dad, my sister, and my....wait....where was my brother? My mom was screaming for him, and as I turned to look, he was running back to the house. He came out with our dog, a small chihuahua named Baby. We were all safe and sound, and the fire department was on it's way. That was the easy part...getting out. The hard part was standing there with our friends and neighbors watching our memories go up in flames. My mom crumpled to her knees. She was weeping over all her pictures, her baby clothes, and all the things she had collected over the years. The three of us stood behind her in shock, wondering why this was happening. My brother had only some shorts on, none of us had any shoes. My mom was still in her nightgown. We watched as the flames began to come through the roof, and climb into the sky. Where were the fire trucks? We lived less than a mile from the station. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes that we waited, but it seemed like an eternity. During those minutes I was trying to think if there was anything in there that I wanted to cry and weep like mom about. I thought of my room, and I thought of my clothes. They were all hand-me-downs. Then, I realized that in my room, were my brand new pom-poms, and my dance team uniform. I FREAKED OUT! Do you know how many candy bars we had to sell just to afford those things? Looking at my house burning, suddenly, that's all I could think about. So silly looking back, now, I mean we were all safe, and things worked out fine. In those moments, however, I was selfishly thinking only how I was going to be effected, and not comforting my mom. The fire trucks came, put out the fire, and soaked the whole house with water. What wasn't burned was destroyed with water or smoke damage. It was a total loss. My mom had, in her wisdom, maintained home owners insurance. This allowed us to rebuild in the next few months, and to make it through until then. Have you ever felt like you had lost everything? It is a desperate and hard situation to be in. Today I want to say that God is longing to help you through your loss. All you have to do is call out to Him. He is patiently waiting for you to invite Him into the situation. He will restore you, and rebuild you, and it will stand for eternity. Our God uses our trials like fire. They burn off the things that we don't need, and with all that is left, He rebuilds us. This time, however, we have been tried, and purified by the fire of our trials. If there is one lesson I learned from the fire that day, it is that you can start over. With God, all things are possible...you can rebuild.

...wars, and rumors of wars...

Tomorrow will be the anniversary of the day that changed the world forever. Of course all of us remember that day. I was working in Tucson, AZ at a fast food restaurant, trying to make ends meet. I was also preparing myself for the military. The Army was calling, I had made a 97 on the entrance test, and apparently, that was something that didn't happen often. I was being bombarded by recruiters, and in the process of dropping weight from my first child, and getting into better shape. It was really a dream come true, maybe I could make something of myself after all. I went to work early the morning of September 11, 2001. I was in the drive thru, taking orders, and passing them to fellow Americans on their way to work. Glamorous right? It was like every other day, until one particular car pulled up. The man was staring blankly at me with his radio on. I remember he said to me, 'A plane just crashed into the World Trade Center'. I could never have imagined that at that moment, those words would change the course of my life. Still not knowing the gravity of the situation, but guessing it was significant, I called my pastor. He picked up the phone, but he couldn't speak. All I heard was him weeping on the other end. I kept saying, 'Pastor, Pastor!' Finally he heard me, and I'll never forget the first words he said. 'Pray, girl, you better pray.' I ran to the back of the store, got an old television off one of the shelves, and plugged it in. It was just in time to see the second plane hitting the towers. My world stood still. There was no one at the restaurant for the rest of the morning, and we all just gathered around the television watching in horror and utter disbelief. I was weeping for the lost lives of my fellow Americans. It was so personal, and so offensive to me. I am a very patriotic person, and all things American bring me to tears. I knew that day our country would never be the same, I knew we were headed for war. That day, one that meant so many things, will forever be in my mind as the most horrific in my life. To watch and see war land in my precious country was more than I could handle. I wish I could say that I signed the recruiting papers, and I served my country proudly and bravely, but that wasn't the case. I had a new family, and nothing was more important to me then. Those days after the attack reformed our nation, and our mindset as a people. It gave us a resolve we hadn't seen for quite sometime, and it exposed the evil in this world. As a christian, I began to seek the Lord in new ways, to search for the meaning in all the chaos. He gave me peace in those dark times, and the grace to minister to others touched by this tragedy. I want to remember today, and this week the lives that were lost and changed forever that day, and to say that I will never forget, I will never stop hurting over the sacrifices made that day and the days following. I will never look at another soldier or first responder and take them for granted ever, ever again. Thank you, Lord for all the men and women around the world who stand for freedom. Thank you Lord for the blessing of being a part of this great land of opportunity. I pray for the future of our country and our leaders. Lord, give us the same courage and fortitude we showed in those dark days following the attack. Help us to overcome any trials that lay ahead with the strength, and honor and courage that makes us all Americans, and help us to recognize You throughout it all.

...treasure in earthen vessels....

Let me share today with you about a time in my life when I was hurt by someone I trusted very much. At the age of around six, I was so innocent. My parents were still together, and the life I lived then was carefree, no worries. At that age, if you are lucky,you think that the world is there to revolve around you, and that no one would intentionally hurt you. Up until that point, I felt that way. My family lived in a small home, and we struggled to pay the bills. My uncle needed somewhere to stay while he was in town from time to time, so, of course, he was welcome. I loved and trusted him. He was not very loving, but he was fun. I remember poker nights around the kitchen table, smoke and laughter all around the table, watching my mother laugh and be silly. He would sometimes nap in our living room during the day, and sometimes in the hot summers, we would all nap in that room, if for no other reason than to pass the time away. I remember details of this experience because it was such a change in my worldview within a few short minutes. There were two couches in that room. Green, and soft velvet, I remember being fascinated by how they attached the buttons on the backs of those couches. We would pull the cushions off, stack them on the floor, and just go crazy. My brother and I would bounce and jump until we fell out in laughter. I loved those couches. That was the room our Christmas tree was always in, and was associated with happy times. One summer day, all that changed for me. My father was sleeping in his room, I think he worked a late shift, so he was tire in the middle of the day. My brother and I wanted to play outside that day, but my uncle insisted that we take a nap instead. My brother was instructed to lay on one couch, and my uncle and I on the other. I remember thinking at the time that I felt special, laying on his big tummy, resting my little head on his chest. I felt safe there....for about two minutes. That day I was wearing a pink jumpsuit, sleeveless and short, it buttoned up the front. As his hands rested on my back,I was in what I thought was a place of protection. In all reality, my innocence was about to be robbed in the next hour or so. I hesitate to go into much detail here, I will suffice it to say that he began to sexually molest me. I was frightened, and when I tried to get up, he squeezed me tight, saying, 'Where do you think you are going?' I quietly replied, 'Outside to play'. His response was to continue touching me, squeezing me harder, he said, 'You're not going anywhere'. My brother was pretending to sleep on the next couch, but I knew he was awake. I remember looking at him, pleading with my eyes for him to help me. He was only six or seven at the time, but his mind was frantic to try to help. He saw what was happening, and although neither of us understood it, we both knew it was evil. He gathered his courage and pretended to wake up. He stood up. My uncle paused. 'I need some water', my brother said, and he left the room. HE LEFT ME! I was horrified. Now I was alone with this person I once trusted,but who had now become my attacker. He wouldn't let me move. What I didn't realize was that at moment my brother was in the kitchen looking at the butcher knife. He was seriously considering rushing to my rescue. Instead, he was level headed enough to rush to my father's room screaming,'Daddy! Daddy! He's raping her!'. I didn't know what that meant, but it worked. My uncle literally threw me across the room, I landed on a heap on the carpet. He was sitting on the couch, flustered, and red faced, a look of shock on his face. The rest of this memory is a blur, but I remember a lot of yelling from my dad, a lot of nothing from my uncle, and finally, dropping him off after a short drive to the interstate. When my mom got home that day, she cried and cried. She let me sleep with her that night, and she held me tight, crying and grieving for my lost innocence. That was a hard day for all of us. The result of this was a torn family. I still to this day cannot be in the room alone with him. I say I have forgiven him, but how can you tell? I will never forget that day, and writing this has reduced me to tears, even though this happened almost thirty years ago. All of that to say this...If you have been a victim of a similar situation, I can say with a surety that you will not heal by holding it inside. You will not heal by not letting it affect you. I still pray for help from the Lord to forgive Him. I believe God wants me to be compassionate toward him now that I am an adult. He is lost, and God loves him just as much as He loves me. He made a choice that day that was evil, selfish, and destructive. I will not let it destroy me. The experience that day opened my eyes to the evil in this world. It was not my fault, there was nothing I could do to escape or prevent it. I take comfort in the promise of my salvation. God can use me, He is using me. My past is exactly that. It is not my future. I have been cleansed and forgiven. I pray that one day I can say with confidence that I never tried to hide my past. My past is a sparkling treasure He has given me to share.

...for Thou art with me...

Tragedy. Sometimes lives are touched with this phenomenon. Something happens that you can never find a good answer for. A lost loved one, a missing child, unexpected and unwelcome, these are the times when you are going to show what kind of stuff you are made of. In my personal life, I have not experienced anything I would consider tragedy. Just after I was born, however, tragedy came into my family. It robbed us of someone sure to be something great and wonderful. My father was the youngest of three boys. He was the baby, until his little sister was born. One girl in a house of boys? Yes, she was loved, and everything that goes along with a position like that. This is what I know of her. My grandparents were small business owners in the small town, with a motel and restaurant business. They were members of the country club, and dealers of antique cars. They lived in a nice house, and were able to employ a housekeeper. They were wealthy for the town's standards, and well known in the community. As a result, everyone knew my father, and his siblings. My father married my mother young, and they immediately began their family. They were happy, and their future looked bright together. They worked in the family business, and had bought a home. My aunt also married young, and started her family about two years later. Her and my mother were best friends, and pregnant at the same time. My aunt with her first and my mom with her second(me), they were always together. They spent a lot of time that year, I'm sure, planning for the new lives soon to arrive. Well, arrive we did, two months apart. My aunt's marriage was rocky, however, there were signs of physical abuse, and she became withdrawn. Her husband, I am told was a very controlling person. Eventually, she had enough, and decided to end the marriage. The last day of her young life, she was gathering her things to move back home. Her final trip back to her home was to pick up a few belongings, and her daughter. She was leaving, and was determined to do what was needed to get away. She stopped by on her way to ask my father to join her. He was working, however, and didn't feel like he could leave. So, after stealing a bite of his lunch, she left. Forty-five minutes later, he got the phone call. She was dead, and her husband was also. It was a murder-suicide, planned and executed. She walked right into a trap. This tragedy effected the entire small community. She was eighteen, and a young mother. Now my cousin was an orphan, and my father was haunted. From that day forward he never recovered. It is to this day holding him hostage. His older brothers were able to move on and be successful fathers and businessmen. My grandparents and my father were not so fortunate. My dad never overcame the fact that he did not go with her. He feels like somehow he could have saved her. This has led him down a very destructive path in life. It has affected us even up to my children. My father could have been so much more, but he has let a tragedy keep him in bondage for over 30 years. He lost his family, and his self respect. He is bound up in alcoholism, and even lived in the streets for years, homeless, with no feeling of worth. My mom raised us, worked for us, and made it through. She did a great job. How could anyone have expected this to happen? It changed the course of my family, from very functional, to completely destroyed. Have you experienced tragedy in your life? I really believe that it comes for reasons. Sometimes you will never know, but all of it is for a purpose. Tragedy cannot be explained. There is no way to undo it, no one to blame. Too many people make the mistake of turning from the One who could heal them and help them through. God loved my aunt too. He has a purpose for her death, even if just so I would end up in the right place at the right time for Him to reach me. I wish for you to take from today's post that if you have experienced a tragedy, don't make the same mistakes my father has made. Be strong. Turn to the God who loves you, let Him comfort you and guide you through it. He wants to draw you to Him, and for you to depend on Him for your future. He really is a God who is loving, compassionate, and faithful. You may feel at the time that He is against you, but you cannot know his plans for you, you cannot know His great love for you. He gave His only Son so YOU could spend eternity with him. What greater tragedy than losing a child? He GAVE His for you, so he could be your Father. Turn to Him, not from Him. His mercy and grace will help you through whatever you are facing, or have faced in your life. Please, don't make the same mistakes in this time of testing. Tragedy will come in life, if you live long enough. Your reaction will determine your future.