For Such a Time as This

Do you ever think about your destiny? Do you ever wonder why God has you where you are in this time and place?

A few years back, we were all singing about "Refiners Fire," but now that a bit of "fire" is actually here, so many Christians are running scared. Now is the time to ask the hard questions. Do we believe what we say we do? Do we trust God or not? Do we trust Him when he says "Fear not"? Do we really believe He is our strong tower? Was Jesus a fool to tell us to pray for our enemies? Was God joking when he said over and over to take care of the aliens among you? Was Paul a lunatic when he said the most important thing we could do is love? Was Peter just gassing us when he said to "count it all joy when you suffer trials of various kinds"? Was James just plain wrong when he said our actions showed our faith more than words? Is the definition of true religion to take care of widows and orphans, or isn't it?

If you haven't cut all these things out of your Bible, then listen up!

Jesus said to give anyone who asks the shirts off our backs, to walk longer with them in their need than we want to, and pick up our crosses and follow Him. Follow Him straight to the grave where your self will die. If you think that you don't need or want any refugees here--you have not died to self. God is sending them to you! How dare you even consider turning them away. You are here, now, to be the word of truth, the light of the Kingdom, the salt of the Earth, the balm for a broken people. "What would Jesus do?" is still a valid question. Would Jesus turn anyone away? If you would, then here is the biggest question of all: Are you really a Christian?

Merry Christmas!!

Well, it's been quite a year! One that started off pretty bad and continues to be a roller coaster ride of incredible highs and deep in the mud lows. All the lows were when Tracy was sick enough to be in the hospital--that would be last Dec., April, July, and Oct. He didn't actually go into the hospital in Dec., but he had a picc line with the kinds of drugs they would use if he had been hospitalized. They had to pull it early because of a clot, and Tracy spent the next three month on a blood thinner on top of everything else.

He spent 2 1/2 months on our sofa because he had gotten so low by the end of Jan, we needed to keep a closer eye on him, and I was determined to get the 20 lbs back on him that he had lost. I didn't. He continued to worsen until he was hospitalized in April, spending three weeks at the University of Colorado Hospital in Denver.

A low for Kevin was the end of his contract with Kansas Dept. of Health and Environment, and being thrust back into the job market. A high for Kevin was the publishing of his first novel.

A high for me was publishing my 4th romance novel.

A high for Tristan was his new girlfriend, Kelly.

A high for me was a bit of stage acting, playing the part of Rahab in a church production.

Another high was my high school reunion in May.

And a high for Tracy was proposing to his girlfriend of a year, Jessi.

Another low hit in July when Tracy went back into the hospital. It is beginning to feel like a revolving door, as the effect of the antibiotics only seems to last a few weeks. He did, however, gain back at least ten lbs this time.

With Tracy and Jessi's wedding planned for the end of Oct., we began shopping, sewing, etc. in earnest! We had a Roaring 20's bridal shower in Sept.

The same day as the bridal shower, there was another engagement announcement: Tristan and Kelly will be tying the knot in the spring!

Then the worst happened--Tracy went back into the hospital a week before the wedding. We didn't have a plan B. The wedding had to happen on Oct. 25th, or Jessi would lose the money for the building rental. We prayed and went on with the plans. And God was gracious. Tracy was released the day before, and again, would have a picc line for awhile.

After nine months of unemployment and sucking our 401k nearly dry, Kevin got a job with United Healthcare. Hurray!

In early Dec.,I did a bit of painting, and published another book. (I did the artwork for both of the Rocky Mountain books with Tristan doing the title and layout magic)

There were other highs as well... I went up Pikes Peak twice this year! You can't get much higher than that around here! And the gals I hiked with 3 days a week all summer were a huge blessing! Tristan has been designing fabric through Spoonflower and making designer scarves when he's not working for Print City or an inventory company. And of course, Kevin, Tristan, and Tracy are still making people laugh with their QuipTracks (www.quiptracks.com)

Tracy had a wonderful month of health and gaining weight before the lung infections began their dirty work again. If he can stay off of antibiotics until Jan. 5, he may qualify for a trial drug that targets one of his mutations. We are hopeful.

And here we are ready to celebrate Christmas 2014. There's no doubt it's been a tougher year than most, but God is faithful, and I'm looking forward to a victorious 2015. Because that's what Christmas is all about--a light to scatter darkness, a name to bend knees, a hope for all eternity. Jesus.

Be Brave

I wear a bracelet that says "Be Brave." I wear this bracelet because I'm not brave. I'd have no need of the reminder if I were. Sometimes I'm so not brave that I'm nothing but a quivering mess on the floor, crying my heart out. My son has had CF his whole life--nearly 23 years, and while there have been times that I've been a bit frightened for him, and I've hurt for him and the various painful maladies and procedures he has had to go through, I've never really felt the possibility of losing him until last fall when he was suddenly fighting several kinds of bacteria in his lungs and losing twenty pounds off of his already slim body.

That's when bravery was required. And that's when I realized how far short I fell.

I know a few of you are thinking, "Well, that girl just needs some faith. Does she believe what she says she believes or doesn't she?" I know you're thinking this, because I've thought it. I've even said it behind the back of someone afraid of dying.

And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. And I forgive you if you've thought it about me, because you just don't know. And I pray you never find out.

Having been accused lately of being "sanctimonious," I've given this word some thought. The dictionary defines the word as "affecting piousness; hypocritically devout." And while I was initially offended, I have to wonder, do I believe what I say I believe, and do I believe it enough to say it out loud... to anyone and everyone. I go to a church that believes in the finished work of Jesus on the cross for the redemption of the whole man--body, soul, and spirit. It's a church that believes in ALL God's promises without sweeping the inconvenient or outrageous ones under the rug. It's a church that believes that God not only heals, but that he wants to heal EVERY ONE EVERY TIME. Sanctification through illness is not one of God's methods.

So here I am being real--being brave. I'm putting my faith where my mouth is.

I believed that I received this word from the Lord: "I will not abandon Tracy to the grave. He will live; he will not die. I will heal him, and his testimony will shine like the sun."

Every time I ask him "what can I do" in regards to my son's health, I hear, "Just praise me."

Why? Because, somehow, in a spiritual war that we can't see, that is our greatest weapon.

About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them. Suddenly there was such a violent earthquake that the foundations of the prison were shaken. At once all the prison doors flew open, and everybody's chains came loose. Acts 16:25-26

So, I'm going to ask you to join me. Take a few minutes to fight this battle with me each day. I don't even care if you're a believer. Just sing. Then share this post. I'm putting my name and my faith out there. Be brave with me.

And it doesn't need to be all about me and my son. God's big enough to take care of your needs for healing, deliverance, provision, addiction, depression, anxiety, etc., at the same time.

Sing with me, and the chains will fall.

Spiritual Slavery to Spiritual Sonship

Jack Frost's book Spiritual Slavery to Spiritual Sonship should be required reading for every Christian. Frost, who was a fisherman and a sea captain before going to Bible school, uses his experiences on the sea to flesh out spiritual truths about living like an orphan or living like a son. He stresses that only a son receives an inheritance. An orphan receives nothing. His clear definitions and list of behaviors help us identify areas where we may be operating at less than our true position in God's family. We can be a son and live as if we are orphans. Frost

lays his own life open to scrutiny as he tells the story of how, even in ministry, he was living like an orphan for many years. He stresses that an "orphan spirit" can be part of the make-up of new Christians or those who have spent their entire lives in the Church. It's what keeps us from walking in spiritual maturity, and keeps us enslaved to our own mission instead of God's. Orphan thinking--not fully understanding and accepting God's love for us--keeps us from receiving the blessings he has for us. It can infiltrate every aspect of our relationships or just certain areas of weakness. This is an excellent book for finding and identifying those weaknesses so that change is possible. His eight steps take you from an orphan to a Son to live the life you were meant to live. I highly recommend this book. As the subtitle says, "your destiny awaits you."

erasing hell by Francis Chan

Francis Chan’s latest book’s provocative title, erasing hell, is more a comment on society’s view than his own. Far from erasing hell, Chan ends up ascribing to the scariest option possible—eternal torture—as his final conclusion.

I appreciated Chan and fellow writer, Preston Sprinkle’s in-depth study—diving into the Greek and looking at the Jewish mindset to understand what they would have thought about hell. He does a fine job, I think, of showing that an actual hell—a real place of punishment—is Biblical. Past this point, however, he took a number of important passages out of context, so in the end, didn’t convince me that a God defined by love would torture forever and ever even those who had never heard the gospel.

Chan’s main point, though, is that hell is real, and if we believe that, we ought to live like we do. He contends if we really believed it, we would be bolder in proclaiming the gospel message and more fervent in our prayers for the lost around us.

And in that, he is most definitely right.

Looking again at 9/11

As the tenth anniversary of 9/11 approaches, I'm praying for a little perspective. I'm not one of the "we will never forget" bunch. I think it's time to collectively put the day, the pain, and the horror behind us and move on. Not the people--just the event. Here's why.
As tragic as it was, many other people died that day. Other people lost their parents and grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins due to any number of tragedies. Was their pain less? Did they cry fewer tears because their relatives avoided being in the towers that day? A certain number of firefighters and police lose their lives every day in the line of duty. Are their deaths less important?
My aunt (and several others) died on 8/11 of that year due to faulty filters in a dialysis machine. A tragedy that didn't make the news--even the local news. Someone was at fault, but we don't re-live a play by play of her death every year on 8/11. We remember her life every day.
When we elevate some to mega hero status because they died in a big event, we degrade the status of those who died serving their fellow man in a smaller way.
Some have died fighting a fire in Texas or a house fire in Tonganoxie. Some have died working the floods in Missouri or trying to rescue one child in a pond.
Some have died searching for survivors in Joplin or racing to the scene of an accident on a lonely country road.
Even the grandma who dies in her sleep can be one who leaves behind a legacy of service.
And they leave behind people who loved them.
This Sunday, let's just keep that in mind.

Living Shirtless

Luke 6:29 says this: If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. NIV
Or put another way: If someone grabs your coat, gift wrap your best shirt and make a present of it. The Message

I’ve been pondering this passage for some time and what it would mean to “live shirtless.” Here are some of my thoughts.
*If I’m wearing a cloak, it is probably because I need it—it’s cold.
*If someone is asking for my cloak, I assume he doesn’t have one—he’s cold.
*Would I offer my shirt if he already had one? He’s super cold.
*If I give away my cloak, I will be less warm, but he will be more warm.
*If I give him my coat and my shirt, he will be warm, and I will be cold.

Why would any sane person do this? (I really hate to be cold.)
It is sane to give it all away IF one trusts that they will get another shirt and coat from their supplier.

MT 6:28-30 "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?

Rich kids spend money with no worries. Why? They’ve got a rich dad. They trust in their supplier. (They may have to spend according to his will or get cut off.)

One day when I was thinking about this as I was shopping, I stopped to get some cash at the bank. And the thought occurred to me: what if I made a practice of giving not the smallest bill in my wallet to those who ask, but the largest. What if I gave it all?

So I made a promise right then. The next person I see standing on a corner with a sign asking for money gets it all—everything in my wallet. If you don’t think God takes promises like that seriously, for heaven’s sake, don’t make them. In less than five minutes, there he was, the guy with the sign, in a place I’ve never seen one before or since.

And I had just gotten a hundred bucks in cash.

So I took that hundred dollars and the sixteen I already had, rolled it up and handed it to him. And I went back to my car and laughed, thinking how surprised he’d be when he unrolled that wad. (Or maybe he was an angel and not surprised at all!)

I know my Dad—it’s His will for me to give to the poor. So it’s really no big deal to give.

He’s rich