Jerri Phillips

A New Thing--A New Name (sort of)

2010-07-21T10:00:00.000-05:00

With the future filled with uncertainty and the possibility of great change, I have opted to return to Jerri Kelley as my writing/speaking name. As a result, I will be changing blogs to Jerri Kelley effective immediately.

If you are linked here, would you please update your link to the new blog.

Thank you.

Jerri

Comfort on the Path Alone

2010-07-19T10:06:00.001-05:00

When my dad was in the hospital the last time, I knew it was a matter of days. The year had been hard, in and out of hospitals, procedures, ICU, long drives, short nights, an ocean of tears. Now, the battle was coming to an end, and despite the effort to prepare emotionally and mentally, one never knows what to do when the time finally arrives.

My friend Diana did one of the most unorthodox--and so desperately needed--things I can imagine. She took me out for a day, not a day of processing or preparing for the inevitable, but a day of coffee, chocolate, lunch, a glass of wine, shopping, and laughter. Oh!, the laughter! We reminisced, not about my dad, but about college, boy friends--especially the one we shared :-) --friends...did I mention the laughter?

I went home after my day with Di and slept...hard...peacefully...comforted.

A week later Diana stood with me as they wheeled my dad's casket from the church to the hearse. She squeezed my hand, hugged my neck, and let me go. It was all she could do. Some paths can only be walked alone...but what you have when you step onto them can determine how well you walk through them. Di had given me all she could, and it was all my heart needed.

Again I am on a path that really can only be walked alone. Grief, hope, and healing are witnessed from the outside but can only be lived within. While others can hug my neck and hold my hand, ultimately, they have to let go and let me walk through stumbling at times, head held high at others, and anywhere in between at any given moment.

But their hearts are with me...and this is the comfort.

It is rarely what is said. In fact, it is more often what isn't. It is more what they do and the tender grace with which they do it.

It is the acceptance of the path, the willingness to witness it, the pain and pleasure of watching me stumble and stand up again I see in their eyes.

It is their willingness to laugh with me at the most seemingly inappropriate places knowing the laughter hedges the pain that would drown me.

It is their quiet grace as they watch me bravely stagger from a joyous occasion because the grief is too heavy and too deep to hide behind a smile.

It is their knowing when a detour is necessary to give strength and not just diversion.

It is the discipline to stand back when they want to rush in with a hug or advice, and it is the deep breath they take and the silenced tongue when I walk in a way they would not and the tender way they pick gravel from my knees without making me feel ashamed or like less when their way was right and mine was wrong.

It is not yelling back when I am yelling at them...and when it isn't at them all but I'm still yelling.

It is the simple texts, "I love you. I believe in you. I am still expecting great things for you." The cards in the mail with elephant seal hugs, butterflies in the becoming, and sunshine on my face.

Sometimes it is the phone calls, and sometimes it is knowing not to call right now.

It's more than being willing to listen. It's being willing to sit in the silence...when tears burn hot...breath comes shaky...and all there is to do is hand over another kleenex.

It is the heart that holds on while letting go, stands fast while stepping away, and answers calls spoken and unspoken. This is the comfort that I take with me on this path...the comfort that while I am walking alone...I'm really not...I'm taking loving hearts with me.

Identity--Who I Am

2010-07-18T09:09:00.005-05:00

Jerri.

Derivative of Jeremiah. Translated to mean "Mighty warrior" or "Exalted one of God".

This is not my name. It is who I am. It did not change when I made horrendous decisions in high school. It did not change when my dad died and our relationship was left fractured. It did not change three weeks ago when my husband moved out.

I am still Jerri.

I am still the same compassionate person with the same calling on my life. I still like the same decadent desserts, enjoy the same music, and laugh at the same goofy stuff. I still hurt when my friends hurt and rejoice when they rejoice. I still hate doing lesson plans but love the light bulb moment. The beach still speaks to me like nothing else in the world, and I still find myself having mental conversations...aloud. And my hair is as red as it's ever been.

I am still a warrior. I fought for my marriage for nineteen years. I put everything I had into it. As a friend of my says, "not one tactic was left in the tool box". That is how I live. That is who I am. Circumstances and choices made by others do not diminish or change that.

If I had to do it again, I hope I would fight with the same ferocity and hope that I did then, not because it's easy or because there are guarantees, but because it is worth it, and it is what you do. It is what I do. It is who I am.

I still have the same gifts, same dreams, and same passions. I still don't like to cook, and my house still isn't spotless. BUT, I still love the laugh of my children, and snuggling up with them is one of the best places in the world ever.

My faith is still in a perfect God whose power is greater than I can fathom. His promises for me are still yes and amen. He has taken me from the muck and mire, put me on a high place, and given me open spaces. My gifts and anointings are from Him, and they are without repentance.

I am an amazing person and woman, not because of my dress size, the state of my marriage, or the cleanliness of my house but because my God says so.

Only God has the right to define me, and since He hasn't changed, neither have I.

This is who I have always been, and that has not changed.

The only thing that has ever wavered is my choice to live in the truth of who I am. Sometimes I have chosen to think and act in a way effected by people or circumstance, but that was a choice, not an identity. Even a princess can act like a pauper if she chooses.

However, this time, I don't choose to.

This time I choose to live the princess. I choose to be the warrior. I choose to be the redhead with attitude, purpose, and vision.

I also choose to be real, to be vulnerable, to be uncomfortably honest, to be an example for others walking this road. I choose to live my life publicly and feel my feelings honestly so others can be free to be honest, too. I choose to be the light even while the enemy wants me to hide in the darkness.

I choose to believe in healing, redemption, and restoration...to embrace them...and be a conduit for them...

I choose to be nothing less that who I am.

I choose to be...

Jerri

When Okay Really is Okay

2010-07-17T07:30:00.005-05:00

How do you tell friends and family that a seemingly bedrock piece of their reality has crumbled? How do you lead them through the collapsed remains when in their wide eyes filled with shock, you can see the reflection of an emptiness, where what once was isn't any longer? How do you take the conviction that God is still able to build something amazing--whatever that may look like--from your heart and place it in theirs? How do you assure them life is still present and despite what looks like decimation? How do you help them breathe?

I don't know.

I feel I have not done it well, although I do not know how I could have or should have done it better. Perhaps a blog entry wasn't the best solution, but I really did not have the mental or emotional energy to write literally hundreds of personal notes and the inevitable replies that would have needed to be addressed. No, sometimes it is easier to drop one massive bomb than to lob hundreds of grenades.

In either case, there is the reaction, and that requires far more tact and gentleness.

When the aftershock of telling people that Rob and I had been separated a few weeks hit, so did the emails, texts, phone calls, and messages. The number of wonderful, loving friends and family who offered support in every way was a healing balm. There is no blanket like the one created by loving people.

It was also overwhelming.

I cannot imagine the shock people around us must have felt when they heard the news. I can only liken it to hearing news of a sudden death. All is fine...and in an instant, in the most unimaginable way possible, it isn't. It is human nature to react to that instant.

However, for us, it wasn't an instant.

I realize every situation is different. We have a friend whose world exploded when her husband walked in one day, told her he was divorcing her (papers in hand), packed his clothes, and walked out...no contact information given. THAT is a whole different situation. I cannot fathom the pain that comes from that.

Sometimes, though, pain is spread out over time and events...healing along with it...and by the time the bomb hits, there have been enough smaller things that did so much damage that the difference is so minute. Sometimes there is simply peace in no longer being shelled. And in that peace, one finds that despite the debris, it really is okay. Life didn't stop. Breathing didn't stop. Dreams are not dead. Hope continues.

There are hard days...when my gaze drifts backward at what was...what I thought was...and what isn't. Tears fall. Questions are asked. I am amazed at how few answers come, but even in the not understanding, God grants peace.

Then my ears hear the Whisper...the one hard to hear in the thundering of war...and I look...forward...and I see...

Promises that have not been discarded. A God who knew then...and is not shocked now. Life still present. Hope all encompassing.

And I wish I could open the eyes of those who are in shock, who are trying to find footing in the aftermath, who only see what isn't anymore. I wish I could open their eyes to see that God is still present...still has His great plans for hope and a future steady in His hands...and is still wholly Sovereign.

I wish I could help them see it isn't the perfect choice, but God is the perfect God, and it really is...and really will be...okay.

When Things Aren't Fine

2010-07-14T15:32:00.004-05:00

As news of the separation spreads, I receive emails, texts, and phone calls asking if I am okay. Ninety percent of the time I answer that I am, and I am being truthful. Most of the time I am thankful for the calm and peace that has settled since the fighting and silent battles have ceased.

Then there are days like today.

Days like today hurt all through me, to my very core. How do I communicate that? How do I communicate the anger without sounding like I am nursing grudges? How do I communicate the pain that defies every word or phrase I know?

I don't know. I simply try to keep putting one foot in front of another, make a longer to do list to fill the time, and try to act sane for anyone watching.

But this isn't sane, and while trying to move forward, I end up on my knees in my bedroom shaking from the pain oozing out of me in loud sobs. The tears seem endless, and the pain feels so deep that I'm going to drown in it.

Prayers come out as gasps for air, and I cannot put a whole sentence together even in my mind.

There is no booming voice from heaven telling me it is fine. There is no overwhelming peace that comes. Just silence...and waves of pain.

And when the torrent has subsided, I sit with my back against the wall, not trusting my knees to hold me up, and I wonder if grace can reach here. Can grace reach beyond my rage at being discarded so easily? Can grace reach into a heart whose trust has been so completely shattered that it is impossible to hold out love but instead cringes at the thought of being touched?

Dear God, show me you, even when things really aren't fine because only with you am I going to really be okay.

Beautiful Analogy

2010-07-14T08:04:00.002-05:00

An Old Cherokee Saying

TWO WOLVES

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.

He said, "My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all.

"One is Evil - It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.

"The other is God - It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: "Which wolf wins?"

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

(Sent to me by my cousin Stacey.)

Deams Gone Awry

2010-07-13T14:10:00.011-05:00

I used to think if I did everything right--went to church, read my Bible, prayed fervently, was truly repentant for my sins--life would progress from point A to point B in a generally straight fashion. Oh, I figured there would be a few bumps and a few slight deviations in there, but for the most part, it would continue on a straight and simple path.

I obviously lived in a delusion that that Old Testament did not apply to me.

Joseph had dreams of his family bowing down to him. Sounded great...until he found out that meant sibling rivalry that landed him in a pit, slavery, and prison.

Abraham was called the Father of Many Nations and then asked to put his only son on a pile of wood and sacrifice him.

David was anointed king, but he had to face his own family's jealousy, an angry monarch, and a giant before he could sit on a throne.

Really, what made me think I got to be the exception?

My dreams for life were simple. I've wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I've always loved speaking and teaching, and once I was married, I wanted to be a great wife and mom. I dreamed of a great marriage that served as an example for others, and I dreamed of having the perfect family.

Over the years, I have had dreams (like Joseph), and people have said or prayed things (like David), and I believed God promised things (like Abraham). I truly believed all of those things said my desires were God's desires, and as such, life would progress in a linear fashion, dreams would become reality, and all would be good.

While I do still believe my heart's desires are God's desires, too, my dreams slammed into the reality that life isn't linear, and sometimes the road to the promises makes no sense. Sometimes it doesn't just hit a few bumps. Sometimes it goes right off the cliff.

Like when my husband moved out.

For the last two weeks my blog has been quiet as I have tried to figure out what to say when I have said repeatedly that God can heal, restore, and redeem anything, and yet, my marriage that I have fought for so hard has come apart at the seams. In light of such obvious evidence that God is not in absolute control and that people can make painful choices, what can be said?

I didn't know, except I do, and I say...

God can heal, restore, and redeem anything.

It is one thing to make that proclamation when life is running along its linear path, but when the world comes down, it is a whole different thing. The first comes from a place of comfort. The second, from a place of faith.

The truth is a lot of damage has been done in my marriage, and I will tell you honestly that it will take a miracle for it to be put back together. However, I have come to realize that God's promises are not void simply because they do not look as I thought they would. God makes promises of the end, not the journey.

He promises prosperity but gives no clarity on the hard work required to get there.
He offers eternal life but does not detail the daily deaths required of it.
He gives love but gives no specific number of people who will hate you.
He extends mercy but does not mention the pain of humbling oneself to receive it.

The plans are for our good. The journey is for our stretching...dying...believing...

If only faith came easier. If only promises came with magic wands.

But there are no magic wands. Only a wondrous God who heals, restores, and redeems...no matter how hard, impossible, or painful the circumstances might be.

This isn't the road I would have chosen. It looks nothing like what I planned, but God's plans have not changed. They are still good. He is still God, and I know...

He can still heal, restore, and redeem anything...

even this.

Creating Redemption

2010-07-06T13:45:00.013-05:00

All creation starts with You.

It's a crazy thing to wrap my brain around. Nothing, and You show up, and You're everything.

You are not a mere observer as some would like to suggest. On the contrary, You are the conductor with music mad in Your mind but coming forth symphonies through Your hands. You are the sculptor incapable of reproducing what You have already done because You are wild with the new. Passion and power collide into explosions of life calling breaths.

What looks like chaos is creation in the hands of the ultimate Creator--One uncaring about creating order if order defies Your plans for redemption. And what is man's idea order in the vastness of such powerful vision anyway? Who who am I to tell You how it should look or how it should feel?

I beg for new, cry out for extraordinary, plead for anything but here. You answer in resounding thunder, and I am blinded by the lightning screaming through my darkness. I am terrified and amazed and torn between hiding my face and staring in awe at the God who answers such pithy prayers with wonders beyond all I ever imagined.

I am terrified and fascinated, and my breath escapes me.

This is not what I meant. This was not what I had planned. I didn't mean for the very ground I stand on to be jerked out from under me, and You answer, "The only safe place to stand is in Me."

My feet scramble...trying to find something solid...trying to get a footing in the only Constant. I hit my knees, tears burning hot, and I find You. Not the safe You I expected...have believed in...but the wild You...the One unafraid to radically tear down to gloriously build up.

Do I have the faith for You? Do I have the trust for...this?

Can I trust You for the new when my heart grieves so deeply the old?

Can I truly believe You are everything when all around me looks like...nothing...I ever would have chosen?

Oh, God...help my unbelief, and in Your act of creative redemption, stop at nothing until I see You're everything.

Something to Consider

2010-06-26T17:41:00.001-05:00

Have you ever noticed...

On days that are so deeply painful and unlovely that they defy words,

God is faithful to provide love so deep, so healing, so real that it defies words too?

For all of you lovely people that I have no words for...

Still Breathing

2010-06-23T11:37:00.004-05:00

The carnage of a life well-intended lies around me. Dead hopes. Dead relationships. Dead dreams. It looks like a wasteland as far as I can see. I am battle weary, tired of trying to defend what is already gone. Why fight on for what isn't...what won't be? Time to accept the loss. Time to let the dead rest in peace...to let me rest in peace...

My swagger is gone. My heart and spirit sag. I am ready to call time of death on these carcasses, but before the words tumble from my tongue, my comrade in arms slaps her hand over my mouth and says, "NO! I still see it breathing...I still see God breathing into it."

She is not looking at the bones littering the landscape. She is looking at me. She sees God still breathing into ME.

The dry bones in the desert are not the issue. How they look is not the issue. It isn’t how old or breathless they are. They are just bones, lifeless bones. Their condition doesn’t matter. It is the breath in the one speaking that matters. The willingness to be breathed into so breath can go forth is what matters.
God still has something for me to breath into. It may not be what I used to breath into, but He always puts in breath so I can breath it into something else.

The question is not the lifelessness of the bones but whether I am still breathing?

Night Whispers

2010-06-22T02:22:00.002-05:00

The medicine has run its course through my system, and now the aching muscles groan when I turn over. Each swallow brings an explosion of pain in my throat, and my sinuses feel heavy with the weight of congestion.

However, in the darkness of my bedroom, my thoughts do not focus on the pain in my body but rather the music that fills the quiet around me. The words of the song are clear in my ears, and my groggy mind understands. They are not of earthly source but a heavenly one.

Words of answer to the pleading of my soul thoughts as I fell asleep. Questions too painful to ask aloud answered in the lyrics that fill my head, wrap around my heart. He is speaking. His words unmistakable, the message clear. My heart, broken and grieved, settles. Peace slips in through harmonies in the music...in the Spirit...and let them settle over me like a blanket.

In the early hour darkness, He lies with me, quiet except for the song He sings, healing, answering, soothing. I feel Him...hear Him...rest in Him.

My eyes drift closed, but the words continue. Answers to hard questions and painful regrets...I listen...and I hear...Him.

When Father's Day Hurts, There is Still Hope

2010-06-20T09:46:00.001-05:00

Lori Freeland is a wonderful writer with a gift for putting God's healing power into words. This week she shares how God took her broken relationship with her dad and healed not only their relationship, but their broken hearts. It is powerful and beautiful.

I encourage you to stop by, read the two-part piece, and take hope for yourself or pass it on to someone you know who is praying for their own miracle.

Father's Day, Part 1

Father's Day, Part 2

Thoughts from my Journal

2010-06-17T06:06:00.001-05:00

"God is amazing in that when I feel like He is ripping things out and leaving huge gaping holes, they tend to turn into obvious doors for me to walk through so I can receive or do something new from or in Him." -- Jerri Phillips, June 12, 2010

I Shall Not Fear...For You are With Me

2010-06-15T11:03:00.004-05:00

Tomorrow my dad--my stepdad--is having heart surgery. The angioplasty they tried yesterday didn't work, so they have scheduled a triple bypass.

This is not new territory. My dad--the one my mom was married to my whole life and then some--had heart issues. I have spent many hours in surgery waiting rooms, ICU waiting rooms, and hospital cafeterias. For fifteen years we lived under the shadow of severe heart damage and an aneurysm on the aorta in Dad's heart. I learned well the verse, "Ye, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil."

Except I did fear.

I feared the gaping hole in my life if Dad passed on. I feared the pain. I feared trips to the farm to see an empty chair, and I feared drinking coffee alone on chilly spring mornings. I feared that it would never be better...and I feared it would.

And it is.

And today, despite the reality of tomorrow's possible outcome, I don't fear.

I have lived through the gaping hole that felt like it would suck me in forever. I have grieved deeply and hurt more wholly than I ever thought I could, and sometimes chilly spring mornings still sting more than my skin. The chair is empty, but sometimes I would swear I hear his laugh come from that part of the room. Always, I seem aware of his absence.

But it is better.

"...For You are with."

I did not live through the gaping hole alone, and friends, no matter how great their love, can only go so far into that pit with me. Even in the darkest, most empty time, God was speaking life. Time did not heal my heart. The hand of God did. When the morning feels too empty, the Lord fills it with His presence--a bird's song, an iris' bloom, His calm. When I hear that laugh, I know Dad is okay, and in his absence, I am made more aware than ever of God's love and faithfulness, and the gift of life...here and eternal...tells me how greatly He understands the void caused from loss.

I am not in this alone.

Tomorrow my stepdad will not be alone when he goes into that operating room...for You are with him...

We will not be alone in the waiting room...for You are with us...

And in the recovery...whatever that looks like...we will heal...for You are with us.

What Are You Running On?

2010-06-14T08:47:00.002-05:00

Today I am honored to be a contributing writer for Crosswalk.com

Come by and see what happens when our fuel is bad and our lives start to die...and how life can become vibrant and run better when you simply change what you are running on.

Gratitude 38--When It Storms

2010-06-14T07:46:00.007-05:00

Seven days...a universe is formed...a God proves His power...proves His willingness and ability to provide...

Seven days...in my life...He proves it all again...

916. Wonder Boy is in wonder as he sorts through his treasure trove of Legos...and he is thankful Ms. Vanessa was patient with the lost phone we couldn't answer...the slow timing of the day...

917. Finally finding the source of the smell...a rusted pipe easy to fix...

918. Carpet that easily pulls away so the soggy pad can dry...

919. Fans that keep air moving

920. A strong man in the house who could handle the rearranging of the bedroom.

921. Yellow fingernail polish, a missing Pet Shop, flashlight with batteries still powered...wonders lost and found...under the bed

922. The road home

923. Enough room to miss the pickup who wanted my lane...while I was occupying it

924. Brakes that were damaged but not broken when I avoided the embankment

925. Mechanics we can trust

926. Places to sleep that are not our bedroom...where tired and sick bodies rest close and comforted

927. The privilege of being a mom...especially when they really need one...

928. Doctors who do stress tests because something "seems wrong"

929. Surgical procedures that allow my dad to be alive and healthy longer.

930. Rest...when...

...the leak is fixed

...the carpet and pad are dry

...temperatures have returned to normal

...the van sits in our driveway again

...and the storm has subsided

NeedtoBreathe

2010-06-13T08:26:00.000-05:00

I don't even have words, except to say it is my new favorite song. Check it out.

Something Beautiful by NeedtoBreathe

Where I am Reading This Week--June 11, 2010

2010-06-11T04:43:00.000-05:00

My Father's Daughter -- The hole left gaping in a daughter's heart when a father chooses to abandon his post can feel too huge to heal, but God is not too small, and sometimes He fills a father-sized hole with a dad-like answer.

Gratitude 37--Celebrating a Father's Daughter

2010-06-07T09:07:00.004-05:00

It isn't an easy day for her today, not because the calendar turns another year older but because this is the first birthday her dad did not give her a call first thing. He went to be with Jesus last fall, and today, the hole in her heart gapes big, and the tears fall hot. And today, I want to put my arms around her and hold her and somehow make it better, but really, there is nothing I can do but hand tissues...

...Except to honor the man who is gone by celebrating the daughter he left behind...

In counting the gift that is Rae...

901. She laughs deep, and it echoes...in rooms, in hearts.

902. Her door is open...to the homeless, to the hopeless, to anyone needing refuge.

903. There is always a cup of coffee

904. Whole body hugs...that hold on until you are okay to let go

905. Her words of honor and love for her husband

906. Her fierce devotion to friends

907. The odd things she finds funny...the same ones as me

908. If she has it and you need it, it's yours

909. The way she rolls with things

910. The mom she chose to be

Did I mention her laughter? :-)

911. Her phone that is on all hours, even when she is tired

912. Potato Salad

913. Learning to swim together at a lake in the country...I'd be terrified if my children did what we did

914. Faith talks

915. Her deep love, which hurts her now, but blesses those blessed to receive it.

The greatest gift is not in who she is...or what she has...but in how easily she gives herself away...

Happy Birthday, Rae! I love you!!!

Alone--The Place of Honor

2010-06-06T21:30:00.014-05:00

Somewhere in my life I learned that being alone meant being a failure. If a person was alone, it meant he or she had not been sufficient for others to desire their company. It was more than being an outcast. It was its own scarlet letter, defining a person as having nothing to be desired by others.

Interestingly, I have spent a large part of my life feeling--and being--very alone.

To avoid this fate, I have often compromised and sacrificed greatly, sometimes my morals, more often myself. Each time I have lost far more than I ever hoped to gain, and I have come to realize that to be alone is not great shame. Sometimes it is a defining act of courage. It is not just the refusal to be what one is not, but the determination to be what one is. Honor and integrity are not most often found in large gathering. Instead, they are found in the choice not to gather.

It is simple to pick up a drink, a drug, a porn flick, or a grudge, and be part of the crowd. Anyone can do that. The fact is people will take anyone who entertains their follies. However, to go home to a spouse, to endure the pain till the other side, to honor one's vows even in the dark moments, or to let a matter go requires valour beyond the measure of most men. It requires a conviction of right and wrong, and a determination to accept responsibility for that conviction, a responsibility to act in accordance with the wisdom and knowledge of what is righteous, just, and holy.

This is not a light-weighted identity to carry, but it is one that allows a person to look in the mirror and be content with what she sees, one that allows a person to lie her head down at night and sleep deeply without torment of mind or spirit.

To be alone in such a manner is a choice of character, not a result of rejection. It is not determined by what a person is not, but by what she is.

Knowing what I truly desire to be, I choose to be worthy of being alone.

Where I am Reading This Week--June 4, 2010

2010-06-02T02:38:00.002-05:00

Marriage Fully Decorated--Subtle comments and selfish attitudes can have a big impact, especially on marriage. In a non-condemning way, Christine encourages wives to look at the everyday interchanges that can either bless a marriage or make it a battlefield.

The Heart of the Beholder: the Power of God Esteem--For all the women who have been attacked by the world's eye view of beauty...

What She Did Now

2010-06-01T02:13:00.000-05:00

My friend Sharilyn is a very talented woman. She is an amazing photographer. Her heart is pure gold, and she has the ability to make anyone feel incredibly special. She puts together lovely gift boxes that are so personalized that it is breathtaking. Some day I'll show you pictures of mine. When people who know her talk about how she blesses them, people wonder what beautiful gift she bestowed this time.

Last week I mentioned Sharilyn on my 1000 Gifts list, and people who know her asked what she had done. I really didn't know what to say because it sounds so small to them, but to me, it was like suddenly having air to breathe.

So what was this great thing she did?

She heard me. That simple.

Instead of simply reading the words I wrote, she heard what I couldn't say. She didn't see a writer with eloquent words. She saw someone hurting with no words at all. Instead of a quick response, she gave a quiet reach in...to where I sat with hopes unbreathing scattered around me.

It wasn't her profound solutions that blessed me. In fact, she offered no answer at all. It was simply her willingness to see me. Sometimes being seen holds the deepest healing of all. Then she sat down with me, put her heart's arm around my shoulders, and understood. Oh, the comfort of being understood. Oh, the refuge it affords!

We sat there. She in my email basket. I in her prayers.

And even though she is half a country away, I wasn't alone.

And for that, I was grateful.

Gratitude 36--When I Can't Remember

2010-05-31T18:12:00.002-05:00

"Friends are the people who, when you forget your heart song, sing it back to you so you can remember."

Or so some say.

My friends are more than that.

They are treasure keepers, and I am blessed to be treasured by them.

They do more than sing a song to me in hopes of jogging my memory when the roller coaster of life leaves me lightheaded. These people are not a bunch of high-heeled tea sippers happy to chat along while I pick up the lunch check. These are people who plaster pictures of me in my heart, mind, and soul when life pain and too big mountains leave me with identity loss. These are people who do not say, "Call me if you need me," but show up at my door and scream, "I know you're in there. Don't make me break this thing down to get to you." And...believe me...they would. They have.

I love them...and I am amazed at how much they love me.

And, "Thank you," will never touch my gratitude.

882. Friend of 20 odd years, unafraid of hard questions, still seeing amazing even when I've forgotten.

883. Understanding instant messages can provide enough cover to slowly be found

884. Patience when the bars keep dropping out down in the Hill Country

885. 4:00 am, "Are you sure you're okay? If not, we can talk some more."

886. A bottle of wine and talking like we were in college

887. Holding on when I can barely even stand up

888. "...wonderful...even now..."

889. The daily dose of laughter because it's good medicine.

890. Dunked Oreos

891. Freshly created songs sung not so on key

892. Calm in the midst of the chaos

893. Not being shocked

894. Follow-up calls the next day..."just to check on you"

895. Believing in the whole picture

896. An hour and a half of looking for Wifi that actually worked because some emails are really important

897. Long hugs

898. Road trip therapy

899. "It's about standing in your hair color."

900. Hummingbirds

Where I am Reading This Week--May 28, 2010

2010-05-28T08:13:00.002-05:00

Soul Food being served this week:

Dead Weight--Beautiful picture of the peace of being carried that overcomes the self-conscious idea we need to help the One carrying us.

The Treasure of Thrown Away Food--"The truly thankful person is a truly peaceful person. They have made a habit no matter what to notice, pause and choose." You've got to read the rest. Really. It's convicting, challenging, and OH!, so empowering!

The Lost Art of Friendship--When doing small things makes a big difference.

Becoming Naked

2010-05-27T09:03:00.001-05:00

I make myself small, try to blend in, become one of the shadows. I am drowning in loneliness and hoping to be found…afraid to be found. Knowing too well what people will truly find.

Being naked is hard.

It is easier to hide.

In hiding, I can pick and choose what is seen. Camouflage the unbeautiful spots.

The ugliness of my stretch marks made when my skin grew thin from conceiving and growing life don’t show. I can point to the fruit, and no one sees the pain or the imperfections exposed during the process of life bringing.

A well placed cover hides where my skin does not fit me well. The too tight places where I over extend and perform perfectly take the focus from the sagging parts where I don’t fit into my skin quite right.

Scrapes, bruises, and wounds fade into shadows of the appearance of light and depth.

Perhaps in the hiding, glimpses of truth come forth, but if I keep moving, they quickly return to the shadows and anyone who has seen is unsure of exactly what they saw.

Yes, being naked is hard.

It is easier to hide.

But I hear Him--calling me, seeking me, desiring me.

I stand statue still. What if He sees me? But He has seen me.

Yesterday.

Before I saw me.

Before I knew my imperfections, my ugly spots. Before I became ashamed of what there is to see.

Yesterday, He saw everything, and He did not turn away. He did not snicker. He did not offer suggestions to make that trouble area better. He simply walked with me, spoke with me, shared His heart and let me share mine…

Yesterday. When I was naked.

And unashamed.

Because I did not know what I had to be ashamed of, only that He enjoyed me…that He wanted me.

Yesterday He walked with me, openly. Today I am hiding…But He calls…

I answer. “I am ashamed.”

He replies. “I never told you to be.”

I swallow hard. My heart races. Do I have the courage to be found?

I step from the camouflage where I have tried to be lost, where I have tried to blend in and not be seen.

He is waiting.

I am naked. More naked than I’ve ever been.

His love is unchanged. He has seen me naked all along, and He covers me.

Genesis 2:25, “The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.”

Thoughts from my Journal

2010-05-25T11:46:00.000-05:00

There are times when God is encouraging, loving, and affirming as He gently moves you forward, and then there are times when He just shoves you out of the nest and expects you to have the sense to recognize the opportunity to fly

Growing Faith

2010-05-25T06:11:00.002-05:00

This morning I was thinking about my garden. It looks pretty puny. We've tried gardens before, and they were flops.

This year I felt like the Lord said to plant a garden because we would get a good harvest from it, so we did. We put in tomatoes, peppers, onions, and a variety of seeds...along with a lot of our money. So far...well, I'm really learning to see with faith on this.

This morning I was so frustrated I wanted to quit, just walk away and give it up to the hot Texas summer. Then the Lord spoke to me, "What about my promise? Do you not believe my promise just because you can't see it?"

Ouch.

So once the sun comes up and before it starts to get too warm, I'll be out there watering again, praying over the okra, corn, tomatoes, peppers, and beans. Sowing into His promise...praying as I go...asking Him to remind me of other promises that the desert sun has assaulted and praying for the faith to believe again for what I do not yet see.

Gratitude 35--Friends and Neighbors

2010-05-24T07:02:00.004-05:00

I am not going to put up a brave facade today. Last week was a hard week. I spent it in deep pain, with a lot of questions, and on the mental and emotional edge. I never felt abandoned by God, but it is because He made Himself so obvious in people around me, and I am so grateful for those people who let Him speak through them--not only in words but in their lives that they live everyday.

I am grateful for...

862. A neighbor who would run into a burning home to save others.

863. A new friend who opened her home to an elderly couple with no place to go.

864. A small army of neighbors who stepped up to salvage pieces of lives, protect what was left, and rebuild what was lost.

865. the Man of my Dreams who made multiple trips to the grocery store to supply dinner for people who thought of everyone but themselves.

866. My friend Lisa, who cheered when I sent off another article to be considered by a "big publisher"

867. My friend Paula, who worked found submission information and helped me with a query letter to send off another article

868. Those who believe God is blessing others through me, which feels unimaginable at times.

869. Molly, the Heeler/terrier mix, that honored me by bringing me her ball to play a great game of fetch

870. Debra, Molly's "mom", who talked dogs, toys, and training. Camping folks are some of the friendliest anyway, and Debra certainly gives them a great name.

871. Sarah, a friend for a little boy trying to figure out how he fit into camping when "relaxing" does not include sitting around doing nothing

872. Grandma, who helped Anna try to get the fish in, and fought valiantly, until the line snapped. We lost the bait, hook, and bobber, but Anna got a memory and a smile that was worth it.

873. My brother, who is just cool

874. Sharilyn...for being more of a blessing than this writer has words to say.

875. Friends who sit around and hang out for a few hours talking, processing, deccompressing, and laughing. I didn't know how tense I was until I'd been around y'all a few hours, my muscles relaxed, and I ached all over. LOL!!!

876. The two most amazing children in the world.

877. Teenagers that make me excited about what their generation is going to accomplish. Jordan and Oakley, y'all rock!

878. Prayer team captains that bless, listen, and encourage. I have the best!

879. Prayer team members that ask the right questions and say the right things at the perfectly right time to let me know God is hearing, God is working, and God is not looking for a backup plan.

880. Shaleen, who drove over an hour and a half to help adopted "neighbors" when they were in need.

881. Bilal, the Man of my Dreams' trainer, who is not only a positive force during class, but calls to check in when Rob misses classes, is truly concerned for Rob's health, and is available to make help in any way possible to see our family be healthy. I don't know that he'll ever know how much that 15 minute conversation meant to me.

I am sure there are more that just have slipped my mind at this moment, and I might add them throughout the day...or week. Looking back over the last week, these are the people who have been healing balm to my heart, a hand to hold me up, and Jesus in front of my face. They are amazing people, and I thank God for every single one of them. I pray you have people like this in your life, too.

In the Aftermath, Pentecost

2010-05-13T15:44:00.004-05:00

My aching muscles drag me from my sleep. The aftermath of yesterday's long walk around the neighborhood drive me from my bed and out to the street again.

The too moist air settles on me as I check the time on my cell phone, slip my headphones over my ears, and head down the street.

In truth, I had hoped to rest a bit longer. A long night of warring with thoughts, memories, and heart wounds still throbbing left me with little sleep. When I finally closed my eyes and felt sleep slipping over me, I longed to stay in the quiet, to let the headache subside, and let my tight muscles relax. A few hours later, I was on the road again, moving toward a better level of fitness, working off excess pounds, and making strides to the physical life I want.

My muscles stretch with the strides, and the ache loosens. The music in my ear is lost in the songs of the birds around me. They are joyous.

I don't remember joyous. Right now, all I remember are the things I want to escape, and yet, instead of allowing me to lie quiet in my bed, the Lord has chosen to bring me right into the middle of the onslaught. It is just He and I here...in the quiet...amid the screaming voices, and I am silent, except for the screams at Him.

How long? Forever? Does this last forever? What must I do? How can I convince you? When will you hear me? When will You stop this...or am I as alone as I feel I am right now?

And the screaming voices continue their cacaphony, but mine goes quiet.

Is it faith or resignation that quiets me? I am sure I don't want to know.

And in the mind-darkness, a Voice speaks. "Pentecost."

Pentecost.

When the Spirit came. When shaken men received unshakable faith. When uneducated men knew they had not believed in vain. No longer merely followers, they became Fire carriers. The questions about Jesus' dying became the declaration of His resurrection. Hearts that had known their failures now knew the limitless power of Almighty God...in them...through them.

The promised Counselor had come, and nothing would be the same again. Not for those men...not for the world...

My feet turn the last corner toward home. The voices still scream. My heart still aches, but hope has again revealed itself. In the aftermath of all that has happened and all I still hope to see, there remains the promise. Pentecost.

I Wonder...

2010-05-12T08:59:00.000-05:00

Why is it that being buried in busy is the considered a perfectly acceptable way to be buried alive? And don't people who are buried alive end up dead from lack of Breath?

What Are You Running On?

2010-05-11T07:57:00.002-05:00

My car died. It did a herky-jerky sort of death throws dance, let out a hideous grumbling moan, and died. Too late I realized what was wrong. In my frenzy to get where I needed to be, I had put diesel in my gas-powered car, and now it was dead.

I see hauntingly familiar dance moves in my home. Sarcastic comments when someone’s question annoys one’s superiority complex. Bickering barbs thrown at each other over miniscule offenses. One person in this room. Another in that one. Four people spread to the winds...

(Join me at The Christian Pulse to find out how God takes an out of control family and puts them lovingly in order.)

Knot Exactly What I Wanted

2010-05-08T18:30:00.006-05:00

I feel like it's been a long time since I actually sat down to write. It is partly caused by the busyness of life, and partly due to blankness of mind. I have found that blankness of mind has two main causes: too busy and too concerned.

Sometimes my brain is so full of abbreviated to do lists that putting together a full sentence--little less a reasonable paragraph--feels overwhelming. Lately, I've been drowning in abbreviated to do lists. While I am concerned with getting those things done, it is more. I am concerned about saying something worth my readers' time, and I'm concerned about saying it with excellence.

Then I start to think.

I work through first lines, structure, a real meaning, style of presentation, and a memorable ending. It doesn't take very long for everything to get muddled in my brain, and then I start to try to unravel it like a bad knot only to find that the more I work on it, the more it tangles. Finally, having developed an ugly headache and feeling more lost than ever, I walk away.

Today, though, I'm hoping to unravel the knot a bit at a time...and maybe, somehow, it'll help someone else with their knots, too.

When I crocheted a lot, my yarn would sometimes get into knots, and some were worth trying to figure out. Sometimes it was just a matter of figuring out some caught loops, identifying a snag here or there, and straightening the string out. Then I was back on track with my project.

Life isn't so different.

Sometimes I end up going around in loops due to a snag. My priorities are sometimes wrong. I'm not always as disciplined as I need to be. Sometimes I am reluctant to try something new because the old way is too comfortable. In cases like that, I need to identify the loops where I am stuck, undo the snags, and move on to the way things work.

Sometimes the knots simply became too tangled to fix. There was simply too much to figure out and sort through. Sometimes I simply had to cut the knot out, tie the ends, and move on. Yes, there was a bump sometimes, but in the end, I created what I wanted and was happy with the result.

Life works that way, too.

Sometimes some thing happens that I can't work out. There have been things that hurt more than I could sort through. Events happened that couldn't be undone. Relationships went in directions that still make no sense. Untangling the knot was impossible. I couldn't undo a person's actions, words said, or unwanted events. And frankly, no matter how much I rolled them over, talked about them, or put them in writing, they were still crazy and "making it better" was impossible.

While I do not believe denial is an answer, I also do not believe the knotted areas of life have to be salvaged and become a significant part of the larger project. For instance, the young man who crushed my feelings by telling me he had started dating someone else because "I forgot I was dating you" never apologized. He never had an explanation. He just shrugged and walked away.

That was a pretty big knot, and no matter what I did I couldn't undo it. Ultimately, I had two choices. I could either live in the pain and the idea that I am so insignificant that I could be forgotten despite wearing some one's expensive ring, or I could simply acknowledge broken people do broken things, and the situation was more about his heart than my identity. I am not insignificant. I am not easily forgotten. I am not a throw-away person. And, there are people who think that young man was totally wrong. There are people who believe I am a gift, an answer to prayer, and an amazing person. I choose to keep them. They are part of my bigger picture, the bigger project that is me.

Yes, there is a bump--an imperfection--where that young man's hurtful actions messed up my thinking. It's a bump that reminds me others have been told they are invaluable and dispensable, and I can be the one to help undo their knot. I can be the one who tells them they are a gift, an answer to prayer, and an amazing person. I can be part of the bigger picture of who they truly are.

Maybe in talking about my knots--the ones that did not determine the outcome of who I am or what I do--I enable others to work through their knots, unravel what needs to be unravelled, and cut out what doesn't need to be there. Maybe by dealing with my knots people can get untangled and become the person God wants them to be, not the person someone else says they are or the victim circumstances try to make them. And maybe--hopefully--they can look at the big picture--the big project God is doing in and with their lives--and see something beautiful and amazing.

Where I am REading This Week--May 7, 2010

2010-05-07T08:24:00.001-05:00

How A Child Shows the Way to Do Hard Things--Warning: This is not a place of easy faith. Don't go here unless you want to be laid low, to look hard in a mirror hoping to see a child and humbled deeply by all that is not.

Wounded Spirits: How to Stop the Bullying--Spirit wounds are not acceptable--not on the playground, not in the locker room, not in the home. Understanding what we are doing and Who we are doing it to is powerful healing for those with spirit wounds...and those who inflict them.

The National Day of Prayer--May 6th

2010-05-06T23:59:00.002-05:00

May 6th

National Day of Prayer

"Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours."--Mark 11:24

Have the courage to ask.

Have the faith to expect.

See God do above and beyond what you can imagine.

Prayer for You Today

2010-05-03T08:14:00.002-05:00

Father God, Lord above all things, all powerful, merciful, loving, and generous God,

I lift up my family, friends, and readers to you this morning.

You know all their needs. You know the mountains in front of them.

I ask you to give them a gift of faith and assurance that there is no mountain bigger than you.

Reveal to them in new and thought-altering ways how much you love them. Give them courage to live in the reality of Your HUGENESS and Your commitment to them so they can see mountains moved, lives healed, and lineages blessed.

Thank you for your faithfulness, Lord. I love you!

Where I am Reading This Week--May 1, 2010

2010-04-30T10:44:00.002-05:00

Ready to be stretched? This one will do it.

How the Kids and the Neighbor-Next-Door Might Really Become Christians? -- "And is that why there are fewer and fewer of genuine disciples? Because we who have Bread are indifferent hoarders, letting the masses die? Or because we're going around passing out cardboard, pseudo-Life, because the ugly truth is that we've never tasted of the Real Christ ourselves?"--Ann Voskamp

Relay for Life Survivor Dinner Speech

2010-04-27T08:15:00.000-05:00

Friday night I had the honor of giving the welcome and invocation for the Survivor Dinner for the Wylie Relay for Life. I don't know anyone whose life has not been touched by cancer. Whether you are battling this enemy, fighting for someone who is battling, celebrating victory, or grieving a loss, I want to share this as encouragement. Wherever you are on your journey, I pray this blesses you.

May your hope be strengthened, and may you keep on walking.

God bless you,
Jerri

Wylie Relay for Life Survivor Dinner 2010

Last year when my daughter joined a Relay for Life team, we didn’t know much about Relay for Life. We understood the logistics of it. We understood raising money. We thought we understood all night.

However, there was so much we didn’t understand. We didn’t understand that Relay for Life isn’t a once a year event. We didn’t understand that once we were done, you weren’t really done. We didn’t understand that when we went home…we would take it with us.

We joined a Relay for Life team last year because my eleven-year old daughter had realized the world was a big place with big problems, and she didn’t feel a little person could make a difference. When I found out Stacey was a team captain, I asked if she had room for two others. No, but she had room for one, and Anna would fit perfectly.

The first day we set up her webpage and set her fundraising goal. Later that day, she exceeded it, and we upped her goal. Over the next few weeks, we upped her goal three or four times. When the day came for Relay for Life, she was very proud of the money she had raised, and because of the nice graphic on her webpage and the team’s page, she could see that her efforts were making a difference.

Then we got here, and the nifty little graphic on the computer suddenly became people…with names…faces…and families.

Each luminary that encircled the field told a story of merciless attacks on innocent victims. Some of the stories ended in victory, and some ended in tears. We have been part of those stories.

Each survivor that walked through this tent and slipped on a “Survivor” ribbon was a face we knew…the face of someone precious, someone loved, someone with a purpose, someone of promise. We have touched those faces, too.

Each caregiver that humbly wore their ribbons…the little girl who wore it for her mom, the parents who wore it for their pre-school son, the husbands, wives, sisters, and brothers…We know them. We’ve walked with them. We’ve prayed for them.

We were here to walk for people, and they weren’t the strangers we thought they would be. They were people we sit down with at family dinners, the people at our school functions, our neighbors next door. The people who walk the hard road, who become exhausted, who wonder if the mountain is too big…but still keep walking.

And people kept walking…all night long.

Some walked for those they had lost, and some walked for those in the middle of the battle. Some walked for those who had overcome. Everyone walked for a cure.

See, it’s not relay for raising money.
It’s not relay for a better treatment.
It’s not relay for endurance.
It’s not relay for 5-year expectancy rate.
It’s Relay for Life.
… for a full Life.
… for a long Life.
And every step gets us closer to our destination.
Every step gets us closer to the cure.
And one day, we will get there.
We just have to keep walking.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2010

Gratitude 34--For Walking

2010-04-26T09:28:00.003-05:00

As some of you may remember, last year my daughter and I joined an amazing group of people to participate in Relay for Life. It was one of the most incredible experiences of my life.

This year we did not walk, but it was a great honor to give the welcome and invocation for the Survivor Dinner. I have no words to describe the feeling of standing in front of all those survivors and caregivers and looking at the sea of beautiful faces...except thank you for letting me part of your celebration. You are amazing heroes. Thank you.

Last year I was grateful for Relay for Life. I am no less so this year. In fact, maybe now I am even more thankful because now I understand better.

851. For the vessel(s) that started Relay for Life, thank you for having a vision as big as a cure.

852. For Wylie Women's League who did an amazing Survivor Dinner and works so hard to raise money and support the event

853. For the army of young volunteers--If anyone thinks the next generation is a bunch of lost and hopeless adolescents, you need to watch this group in action. Wow!

854. Donated food, prizes, and other supplies

855. Good weather

856. Stadiums all around the US that open their fields and grounds to Relay for Life so people can walk for a purpose.

857. Those who donate money, you are making a difference.

858. For a "cancer free" report for Kipp Gremillion, Rob's step-brother

859. Prayers, prayers, and more prayers

860. For those who keep on walking...
at Relay for Life...
in memory...
in honor...
with hope...
to the chemo treatments...
to sit in waiting rooms and patients' rooms...
to carry meals to those who need them...
because quitting isn't an option...
for a cure...

861. For a God who is the cure. Lord, release the knowledge to your vessels that cancer may be defeated on this earth.

When She Flies

2010-04-20T12:18:00.006-05:00

She is still my little girl. She still likes to play Little Pet Shop, sleeps with a stuffed animal, and struggles to find matching shoes in her room. When she is sick, she wants her mom and her blanket, and when dancing around the kitchen with her dad, she still stands on his feet.

Don't be fooled, though. Inside that quiet, gentle little girl is a King's daughter who loves to fly.

Last week, she soared.

On Monday, a man came to check on our A/C. While here, Anna told him about Redlight Rescue and encouraged him to prayerfully consider donating to save girls from the sex trade. He asked if he needed to donate in her name. No. Just donate.

I watched his face. I know the look in his eyes. I've seen it before.

Wonder...as he looked at a twelve-year old girl with compassion the size of a planet.

It is a look in many eyes when they look at this little girl of mine who believes she can have a great impact.

On Wednesday, this man returned with the A/C part...and money. He was matching Anna's pledge. He handed her the investment...in the girls around the world...in her.

"My wife and I decided to give this to you directly because we want you to know if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have known, and if we hadn't known, we couldn't help. You are making a difference."

Her eyes shone with joy.

Mine blurred with proud tears.

On Thursday, she and her daddy headed to Austin for Teenpact, a time to learn how government works, the importance of godly leaders, and the steps to making a difference. That last she already knows.

At Subway, she sees a young lady in her late teens and asks what she always asks (I mean always). "Can I ask you a question?" A smile and nod. "Do you know Jesus as your Lord and Savior?" A shake of the head. "Would you like to know about Him?" Yes, she would.

So, they slip to the side, and Anna explains sin, sacrifice, salvation. The need. The answer. The hope.

When done, she invites. "Do you want to know Jesus as your Lord and Savior?"

The young lady accepts the invitation, and Anna walks the lost sheep into the Shepherd's arms.

Heaven rejoices, and Anna's voice joins them.

On Sunday Anna is home from her trip and heads off to youth group, money in hand...enough to rescue one girl. With joy she tells her pastors about the A/C man, about her sharing, about the donation. She cannot wait to give the money...to make a difference...to save someone.

During the service, she is surprised when the pastor calls her to the stage. He asks a few questions, and then he opens the door for her to tell about the money, how she had simply shared her passion, how the man and his wife had responded...how a life will be forever changed...how others are set free...because she's not afraid to soar.

Gratitude 33--Out and About and Home Again

2010-04-19T08:23:00.002-05:00

Some days--some weeks--leave me in quiet awe. This has been one of those weeks, and I am so grateful.

819. Daughter who finds passion in setting others free

820. Daughter's fearless evangelism that leads a young woman to the amazing love of Christ

821. Husband who takes daughter to Austin to learn the political process, the leading and growing of a godly nation

822. A job that allows Wonder Man to be involved in out of town activities with the children

823. Time with the Wonder Boy, game playing, art doing, movie watching...heart learning

824. Too quiet rooms filled with children returned home

825. Ice cream for upset tummies

826. Hot chocolate for sore throats

827. Long drives and deep talks

828. Couches with recliners on each end where mending bodies can rest and recoop

829. Curling up close and just being

839. Cake recipes, rich in chocolate

840. Husbands who diagnose broken computer batteries

841. Warranties

842. Plungers when necessary

843. Washing machines that work even at midnight

844. New socks for Wonder Boy

845. Rain...so needed...so appreciated

846. Youth leaders that bless, encourage, and nurture tender hearts

847. Friends who believe I can do things that feel bigger than I ever dreamed of being

848. Long talks with friends, planning and dreaming

849. Conferences in the making, hearts valued and precious

850. Beloved Ann, believing in grace, rejoicing in freedom

In the Storm

2010-04-16T08:41:00.002-05:00

Last night I was emptying out old emails, and I found the one below. I forwarded it to my precious friend Lisa Buffaloe, who suffered a tragic loss this week when her friend Erin and Erin's unborn baby were killed in a car wreck. When I read this, I thought of Erin's husband, family, and friends. It is a beautiful picture of how the Lord takes care of His children, even as the storm rages around them.

Lisqa asked me if I were going to blog it. At first, I wasn't going to, but I don't know where you are. I don't know the storms that rage around you, or in you. All I know is God is our refuge, and sometimes I need to see that clearly, so maybe you do, too.

Blessings.

IMPERTURBABILITY
by Darlene M. Makin

I think Charles Allen said it first. "When faced with problems which threaten to steal your peace of mind, learn the meaning ofthe word 'imperturbability.'"

I heard of two artists who were asked to illustrate peace. Each was assigned the task of depicting a peaceful scene on canvas.'

The first artist drew a beautiful picture of a countryside on a warm, spring day. A soft sun illumines green grass. A picturesque farm house and grazing cattle are bathed in its warmth. A farmer walks contentedly behind strong plow horses making his field ready for spring planting. The picture is one of beauty and quiet tranquility.

The other artist took a different approach. He drew a majestic, rugged cliff. Gnarled trees, twisted by years of violent winds, jut from the craggy mountainside. Dark clouds hang low and fierce while jagged streaks of lightening slash across an angry sky. The picture is one of violence, chaos and rage. But as one looks closely, something else becomes visible.

There in one of the crevices of the rocky mountain, tucked back just out of reach of the wind and rain -- a nest with two small birds. Apparently unconcerned about the impending storm, they appear calm, cozy and peaceful as they patiently wait for the turbulence to pass.

And isn't that the way it so often is? We may want to be surrounded by peace, but storms rage. Problems and pressures without threaten to steal peace of mind within.

The answer is imperturbability: inner peace which doesn't leave when circumstances change. It's a peace which is greater than the problems of life, built on assurance that the tempest will finally pass, we will survive the storm, we may grow stronger because of it and, in the meantime, we will not endure it alone.

Imperturbability -- it's the result of a peace which passes understanding. For serenity is not freedom from the storm, but peace amid the storm.

Jesus to his disciples: Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27

In a Single Bound

2010-04-15T10:05:00.006-05:00

I feel like I took a flying leap off the side of a mountain, and if it were not for trusting God so much, I think I would throw up.

Actually, jumping off mountains solo isn't such a big deal anymore. I've become pretty accustomed to that. It's jumping tandem that leaves me reeling, especially when the one tethered to me is my daughter...especially when she is standing on the precipice ready to go over the edge and God says, "I made her to fly. Let her go."

She looks at me questioning. I nod.

Off she goes.

I am right with her, as though a mother's heart could be anywhere else.

And now we are flying in what feels like a free fall, out of control.

Out of my control.

My last illusion of control went flying over the edge with us, and right now, I'm not enjoying the flight. Right now, I hate this. Right now, one thought goes through my mind: "God, what have I done?"

I know the answer. What I have done is release my daughter from my safety zone to God's infinite possibilities. What I have done is declare that I believe His thoughts are higher than my thoughts and His ways are above my ways...and He can do amazing things...through my adolescent daughter...HIS daughter.

I keep tripping over that.

HIS daughter. His creation. His solution to a world in need. His answer to girls caught in a life of slavery and hopelessness. His chosen one.

Right now, though, my mother's heart is struggling. Right now it is concerned about my life, my comfort zone, my life status quo, my family...my own personal Rockwellian view of family life.

But Norman Rockwell was an illusionist. He had a gift for making life's tough spots look poetic, but life isn't poetry, not the kind with perfect metre and comforting rhymes. Life is messy. Healing is done with tears, not smiles. Families in perfect clothes at the perfect table for the perfect holiday spill things...drinks, soups, and souls.

It's in the mess and the spills that the connections occur. A touch of the hand when wiping up the tea. Arms wrapped round to dry the tears. Hearts laid bare as souls are tended.

It is into this mess that my daughter chooses to walk, into the world of young girls captured into a hellish nightmare of human slavery, children sold to grown men to fulfill a wife's place. She, too, is captured...by the hope of freedom for every child who feels hopeless. She is determined to be their hope. She is determined to be the light in their darkness and to find them in their prisons and set them free.

She can do it. Maybe not alone, but people have good hearts. They just need someone to tell them about these children and give them the chance to help. And she will.

What exactly that means for my personalized Rockwell picture, I don't know, but while my mother's heart is screaming, "What have I done?", my faith answers, "I've given her the freedom she wants to give these children...the freedom to be an answer, to be a blessing, to live big, to serve God in whatever way He leads. I've given her the freedom to fly."

To find out more about how you can help set children free from the nightmare of human trafficking and sex slave trade, please visit AMPED Red Light Rescue, Sowers of the Seed Inernational, or contact me personally. Thank you.

Gratitude 32--The Basics

2010-04-12T19:33:00.003-05:00

My temp is up, my face is pale, and my stomach is aggitated. The virus my daughter hosted last night has come to visit me today. I am annoyed and, at various times throughout the day, on the verge of tears.

I hate being sick. First of all, I feel like a failure. If I were truly a woman of faith, I'd have authority over this illness, and it would be banished before Anna's temp ever went over 99 degrees. If I were a real woman, I wouldn't let this annoying thing keep me supine on the couch. I'd just push through, get stuff done, and laugh in victory.

However, my temp is over 99, and the bug is still here, and frankly, if I don't lie supine on the couch, my face goes from pale to green.

Second, I had plans. The children and I were going to clear the part of the yard where we are putting in a flowerbed. We soaked the water last night so the roots would be easy to pull up. The ground is ready. Then tonight, I was finally going to have another tennis lesson. I haven't had one in a month because of a variety of things, and I was so excited...then I had to cancel.

Then, in the midst of my near-tears pity party, a prayer I've prayed many times came back to mind.

"Lord, I don't ever want to be your spoiled child who is ungrateful for what you give just because I didn't get exactly what I want."

I'm upset because I didn't get to prepare the ground for the flowerbeds. There are people who never get to see a flower either because their physical eyes are damaged or because their lives are barren. We can prepare the ground in a few days. Will others suddenly have the ability to see then? Will their lives suddenly be filled with color?

I whine about not hitting a tennis ball when there are people today who have no use of their hands, who cannot stand up, who struggle to remember the word "ball". Today I was able to work on laundry, help with schoolwork, and iron pants. Tomorrow will hands be regrown? Will legs grow strong? Will the mind become firm?

Oh, God...have mercy on my self-centered existence. Forgive me for focusing on the unimportant things that can be done later...or not done at all...and no one's world will be the better or worse. Thank you for reminding me that while I am blessed with many frills in life, there are those who would be so thankful for the "basics". And I am grateful, too.

Thank you, Lord.

802. My hands can hold a ball, type on the keyboard, hold my husband's hand, and wipe away my children's tears.

803. My body fights viruses on its own.

804. Our yard is green, even if it is mostly weeds right now.

805. For amazing children who bless me with peaceful naps when my body needs them

806. That you've never called me a failure.

807. Faith is a journey, and I am learning and growing as I go.

808. Grace covers me when I don't perform as well as I wish.

809. Austin, tennis coach extradinaire, who is the epitome of patience and grace

810. Coaches that are soft for my body.

811. Fred, our Lab-experiment, who wags his tale when I pat him, even when my patting him is for my comfort.

812. Rob was the hero of the day cooking dinner so I didn't have to smell it.

813. Dry toast. Oh, Lord, thank you SO much for dry toast.

814. Ice cream.

815. Cool wash cloths.

816. I can walk to the couch on my own power, and if I want to get up, I can do that, too.

817. Lord, I love automatic washing machines and dryers. Oh, I love having them in my house so I don't have to go to a laundromat.

818. Thank you for asnwering my prayers, especially ones that stretch me and cause me to get out of myself. You are so faithful, and I am undone.

Where I'm Reading This Week--April 16, 2010

2010-04-11T16:31:00.002-05:00

Strong Like Bamboo--Mary Faulkner is a friend of mine. More importantly, she's a world changer. She has a heart to see the world change...by the healing of its women. And in her travels, she meets other world changers...like Sarah.

Where I'm Reading This Week--April 9, 2010

2010-04-09T08:46:00.002-05:00

Good food:

"That for a Christian, identity is never about figuring out who he is —- but accepting Whose he is." -- Ann Voskamp

D-I-V-O-R-C-E--Divorce in the home starts with divorce in the heart. This is a wonderfully convicting, challenging, and encouraging article addressing the problem, the progress, and the prevention.

When it Comes Time to Really Die -- Baptism is more than a ceremony. It is the choice to die...to tell everyone you are dead. This is a stunningly beautiful picture of baptism...dying and being buried in Christ...dying daily...and making Him the only life you want to live...

A Great Date (And It's not What You're Thinking) -- "The Lord sets the lonely into families." Maybe you are a single person needing to belong, or you are a family with a home to share. In either case, this is for you. Hope and challenge for the body of Christ to love like He does.

All That Matters

2010-04-08T08:04:00.003-05:00

I don't normally do this.

When I write personal emails or personal words of encouragement to people, I don't usually share them on my blog. After all, they are personal. This morning I wrote a personal email to the ladies who write the For Her column of The Christian Pulse. These are amazing ladies, and I am so blessed to serve with them. I have great respect for them, and I would never want to break trust with them. However, I feel part of what I wrote is for others, too, and since it is all God's, He can give it to whomever He desires. I pray it encourages and blesses you as well.

Always for Him,
Jerri

From my email...

The Word tells us that the joy of the Lord is our strength (Nehemiah 8:10).

Last night I had a dream my husband was involved in an affair, and although he made no real effort to hide it, no one would believe me. He was such a good guy, no one believed he could do that, and they all said I was overreacting and being paranoid. Now, I don’t know if the dream has some deeper meaning from God. I haven’t had time to ask Him about it, and although I know my husband is not having an affair, I woke up in a funk, sort of miserable, heart sick, and just gloomy. Exactly the way Satan wants me to be because when I’m like that, I sort of ramble around the battle field feeling and acting puny instead of putting on my armor and fighting the battle set before me.

After about an hour of this pitiful mind misery, I told the Lord, “I feel…”

When I was done, His voice came back to me, and He said, “How you feel isn’t the issue. Who I AM is the issue. I AM the one who loves you, and I AM the one who has all power. Whether your husband is having an affair or not is not the issue. How you feel about anything is not the issue. Whether I am faithful to love and bless you is the issue. Whether you trust me or not is the issue. If you trust me, rejoice in me for I have great plans for you.”

I don’t know what Satan is dumping on you. I don’t know how he is trying to discourage you or attack you today. What I do know is our God is higher than all that. What I know is our God loves you infinitely. What I know is when God is for you, it doesn’t matter who is against you.

Father, I lift up those reading this today. Give them joy in you. Give them strength to stand, and when they have done everything, enable them to stand. Give them a gift of hope where the enemy has tried to cloud them with hopelessness. Open their eyes to see your power and your character. Satan wants them to think you can't--or WON'T--come to their rescue, but you are already providing the solution. Open their eyes to see your answer because sometimes our vision is warped by experience, doctrine, and tradition. Open eyes to see your answer and your love no matter how wild and far-fetched it may look. Open their hearts, minds, and eyes to see and know the reality and power of your love. Thank you for the wonderful things you are doing in all these lives today. Be glorified in us. In the perfect and all-powerful name of Jesus I ask these things, Amen.

Come on Over

2010-04-06T12:52:00.002-05:00

Have those times when life feels overwhelming? Ever look up and see a mountain sitting in front of you that appears insurmountable? Ever just get to the point where you mutter in defeat, "I can't do this"?

But then there is a wondrous relief that comes from knowing I can't do it...at least, not alone.

Visit me today over at The Christian Pulse to find out more.

Where I'm Reading This Week--April 2, 2010

2010-04-02T08:38:00.001-05:00

Braver Every Day -- One of the bravest prayers I've ever read.

Human Target -- How would you live if you knew someone always had you covered?

Because GOD is the Answer

2010-03-31T20:19:00.003-05:00

My dear friend Lisa Buffaloe was on Blog Talk Radio today. The interview and conversation was excellent. The ladies discussed several informative topics such as creating a blog, building an audience, and why they blog. One of the best topics addressed, in my opinion, is the importance of blogging for God's sake, not our own. While they were specifically addressing blogging, the truth shared is applicable to all parts of life, whether that be writing, singing, or mowing yards. Very encouraging...and convicting...stuff.

The whole program is about an hour, and it is worth the time. Drop by and get blessed!

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/cwa-radio/2010/03/31/his-love-extended

More Valuable Than Butterflies

2010-03-29T19:22:00.004-05:00

Today the children and I joined our co-op buddies at the Botanic Garden's butterfly exhibit. Because we had a large group, we were able to attend a very informative class on butterflies. The leaders explained how the butterflies were shipped from all over the world to be on display here in Texas. They also explained the butterfly life cycle and the importance of specific plants for specific species of butterflies. Certain aspects of butterfly behavior were discussed as well, and we were encouraged to take time to observe those behaviors. Mostly, they suggested we take time to just watch and behold.

I did just that, and what I beheld left me amazed...not just by the butterflies but by the wonder of me.

Butterflies are more than just a pretty face. Generally speaking, they are bugs. They do bug jobs. Specifically, they wander from flower to flower, picking up pollen and dropping it off, being the catalyst for new life. This is no small thing. Take away the butterflies, and a huge number of those flowers we love in the spring would disappear, too. They not only offer up their own beauty. They enable others' beauty as well.

I love that.

However, a butterfly's functionality isn't what made me stop and stare. Without thought, I was captivated by the art of the butterfly, not its part in creation but its creation by a purposeful Creator.

As I looked at the artwork that sat stone still in front of me, I became lost in the meticulous design of each scale on its wings, the blending of colors, and the perfection of its design. My eyes were fixed on this creation whose life span is a blink of an eye compared to mine. What I saw was not a bug or a nifty pollinator. I stared at a masterpiece formed by a God bigger than the universe with the ability to make something so tiny and delicate, and He knew every single scale on that butterfly's wings. He knew where it had been laid. His hands recreated it in the chrysalis, and He smiled when it took flight.

He watched with the same wondrous joy I did, and He was captivated, too.

If the God of all the earth cares that much for a butterfly, how much more me, the masterpiece made in His image, the one He longs to have as a companion? He holds the butterfly in His hand, but He holds me in His heart. Is anything more wondrous than that?

Gratitude 31--Life: Sacrificed, Provided, Eternal

2010-03-29T08:43:00.004-05:00

Palm Sunday is an odd day for me. On one hand, I want to focus on Jesus. I want to meditate on the sacrifice of the perfect Lamb for me. I want to be in awe of the love that would give such an extravagant gift for one so undeserving.

However, my mind wanders. On Palm Sunday seven years ago, my dad went into the hospital...for the last time. He had been sick for some time. The last nine months had been very difficult. Multiple hospital stays, trips to the ER, and times of needing intense care spotted the calendar.

When I received the call from my mom that Dad was in the ER again and he was being admitted to the hospital, I went to be with them. I knew in my heart this was it. Our journey was done.

On Thursday of that week, my dad was released from the hospital. X-rays showed a mass, not pneumonia. A biopsy had been done, and we were waiting for the results.

We spent Easter with my parents. Dad sat in the sun, watched his small ground children hunt Lego blocks. In the wildness of the week, we never thought about eggs, so we improvised. He laughed a lot. I committed every moment to memory that I could. Treasures stored in the heart.

Late that afternoon, I took my children home. As much as I wanted to stay with Dad, I knew the little ones were tired and in need of rest.

In the late hours of Easter, Dad went home, too. As much as he wanted to stay with us, Jesus knew he was tired and in need of rest.

I suppose some might think my dad's passing on at Easter would diminish the day somehow, but on the contrary, it only makes it more special.

For me, Easter is not just about the salvation of my soul, although that is amazing beyond words. To me, Easter is about my dad breathing without struggling for air. It's about his being able to walk as far as he wants without chest pains, getting dizzy, or passing out.

Easter is about passing on the love of the Word my dad instilled in me to my children. Life continuing from generation to generation. It's morning coffee with the Dad of all time, sharing my heart, hearing His, and letting Him speak through me.

Easter is not just about what Jesus did 2000 years ago. It's about what He is doing now and what He wants to do.

It's life that changes sometimes in form, sometimes in place, but still goes on, and the hope that life can always be better here...and There.

And today I am filled with gratitude.

776. Jerry Dale Kelley--December 13, 1940 - April 21, 2003

777b. Top hats :-)

777. An empty tomb

778. Love that stayed on a cross

779. Doctors who do the best they can

780. Mercy

781. Breathing without pain

782. No oxygen tanks are needed in Heaven

783. Amazing medical staff

784. Lego "eggs"

785. Sunshine

786. Hope

787. Precious memories

788. Stories that still bring laughter

789. Provision beyond my ability to fathom

790. Laughter

791. Pictures and video

792. Life--here and There

793. Death--that makes me realize the power and blessing of life

794. Being able to tell people God is faithful, even when their hearts are broken

795. The Bible--The Greatest Love Story Ever Told

796. HUGE Easter Egg hunts at church

797. Matching dresses my mom made

798. Plastic eggs with a quarter in them

799. Dozens of boiled eggs dipped and colored turning from white orbs to rainbows

800. My grandma who didn't fuss about the Easter egg coloring mess

801. The reality of the resurrection in my life and my heart.

Yes, I stop and think about this week, what was done for me...what has been done IN me...the life given on a cross 2000 years ago so I can have life today and for eternity...and I am in awe...

Part of the Crowd

2010-03-28T08:06:00.000-05:00

Palm Sunday.

I am pondering the Triumphant Entry, the people who waved palms and adored Jesus, and then cried out for His crucifixion when He wasn't what they wanted Him to be.

Laying my heart before the Lord, asking Him to show me ways I refuse to accept His Truth when it isn't what I want to hear or be.

In His mercy, He answers...

Seeing Down the Path

2010-03-26T07:40:00.008-05:00

It is 7:40 am, and I am sitting in a quiet house with the sun beginning to slide into the backyard and slip into the windows. It feels good to be quiet and still.

This is the first time in two weeks I have not started my day with a long to-do list sitting beside me, being added to as I think of things while trying to focus on my quiet time. It is the first time in two weeks I don't feel the pressure of "have to". It is the first time in two weeks I am not trying to figure out how to squeeze my family into the myriad of things to be done.

I just looked at the white board in my kitchen, which started the week saying, "Snuggle time for Robert and Mommy on the trampoline". It was our personal to do list. It stayed there a few days. We never did it, but now it is erased, and something else is there. It makes my heart sad.

Once again I tried to balance things, and I fell off the wire. I am hoping I didn't crash so hard that damage was done that cannot be healed.

This has not been an easy two weeks. While it has been productive, it has also been hard. It has stretched me, stretched my family, and left me with some questions. Today, while I am thanking the Lord for getting our family through the stretching, I am also asking Him what I could have done better. I am taking the whole thing back to the Life Director and asking how I missed it, where I missed it, what I should have differently. I need Him to show me where my priorities were wrong...and where they were right.

I don't believe it was all wrong. Just because something shakes up the status quo or messes with my comfort zone...or the comfort zone of my family...doesn't mean it is wrong or bad. It simply means the Lord is doing something new. He is leading down a new path.

There are two ways to go down a path.

The first way is knowing the path to take and barreling down it full speed ahead. That can be hard going. I have to watch my steps to avoid holes or rocks that can twist an ankle and possibly leave me stranded. I have to fight branches and limbs that grab at my head and face, and if I am not dressed correctly, the briers can rip my legs up.

The second way is to follow. When I follow, the Lord's voice comes back to me and tells me to watch out for the hole, step over the log, or duck under a limb. He knows when to stop so the snake ahead is well out of my path before I need to go by it. When God is leading, He is gives direction, leads my feet smoothly, and protects my head. I may not see the path, but I see Him, and that is all I need to see.

That is where I am this morning. Seeking Him. Making sure I am aligned correctly with Him in front. Listening carefully to be sure I hear His voice over the loud crash of my shattering comfort zone.

This morning I am not merely asking Him if I am on the right path. I'm asking if I am in the right place--behind Him, so that He is all I see. If He is all I see, then I see enough to get me where I am going safely.

Where I'm Reading This Week--March 26, 2010

2010-03-25T16:33:00.002-05:00

What Will We Miss? -- My friend Lisa Buffaloe is an amazing writer. She's also an amazing hearer of God's heart. When I read this, it was as though the Lord were speaking Himself, encouraging me on a hard day of transition, assuring me that sometimes we have to lay down good things to have His best things.

Lending a Hand When You are Down and Out -- All of go through painful trials, hard seasons, and times when we wonder what matters. Shae Hamrick has, too. However, instead of letting them engulf her, she lets them push her outside herself to see others' needs...a place where everyone finds comfort and healing.

You Just Have to Trust Me -- It's just good stuff. Trust me.

Gratitude 30--Being Still, Being Thankful

2010-03-22T16:07:00.002-05:00

Last week was a frenzy, but I thought I handled it well. Today makes last week look like a walk in the park. To say it's been crazy would be an understatement, and I refuse to go crazy, so I'm going to be thankful.

Thank you, Father, for:

751. Whispering the importance of being still

752. Sunshine to warm me through and through

753. Amazing children who are rolling with the demands of today

754. Two empty CDs

755. Wilson's driving here to pick up the filled CDs

756. Melissa--O! Lord, such a woman of grace to cover me...

757. Grace, grace, and more grace

758. A husband who keeps telling me I'm normal, this is normal, and it is okay

759. Take out...sigh...

760. Women of grace who bless me even when I say, "I can't..."

761. Deliverance from needing to always say yes...even when it is impossible, punishes my family, and isn't a work of excellence for you

762. Leftover birthday cake

763. Just enough milk...

764. That some folks know when, "I can't talk right now," is honest, and it isn't about them.

765. Another chance.

766. Promotion

767. Hoodies

768. Ephesians 3:20

769. That right now, you are doing more than I can dream or imagine

770. My children's laughter

771. Prayers of friends

772. Snuggle time in the big bed that calms my soul and reminds me of Your heart

773. Birds singing

774. Giving thanks in everything

775. The calm that has come from simply making this list.

Lord, you are so good to me. You are faithful beyond words, and you are my escape, my very breath. I love you!

What I Need

2010-03-19T08:40:00.000-05:00

I turned off the phone, curtailed the emails, and even cancelled coffee dates. The TV sat silent. Even the radio lost its glow. I sat in the quiet...listening.

The Lord was doing something. His healing touch reached deep into my heart into areas I truly thought were healed already. Gently, He opened wounds that left me breathless with pain. Mercy does not hide from pain when pain is necessary for revealing the need for healing.

In the quiet hours, we sat together, and He spoke to my spirit and mind, adjusting thoughts, addressing fears, exposing lies. He didn't try to fix the tears with cliches, nor did He try to make me above them because He was uncomfortable with the truth of them. Instead, He held on to me in unexpected ways...the perfect song at the perfect time, blogs that wrote exactly what I was feeling, human touch that did not let go but whispered, "It's okay."

We became intimate in a new way, a deeper way.

I wasn't okay, but that was okay. He didn't expect me to be. In that situation at that moment, I was exactly what I should be--hurt and confused. And instead of trying to pretend I was okay and life was rosy, I was doing exactly what I needed to be doing...

...Seeking Him.

Crying on Him.

Crying out to Him.

Being the broken, desperate me with deep needs that cliches and human advice can't fill.

Being the me He always knows I am...

...The me He adores.

...The me He longs to hold.

...The me He is always seeking.

In the quiet, He found me, and I found Him.

And He is exactly what I need.

Where I'm Reading This Week

2010-03-19T05:30:00.003-05:00

Quotables...

"It's not the wind in our hair that makes us free. It's the movement of the Spirit, the growth of our invisible side."--Amber Haines

Food for the mind and soul...

The Large White Sign on the Side of the Road--When you assume Jesus is talking to someone else...only to find He is really talking to you.

Paulette Reed: The Birthing of Miracles - Prepare to Deliver the Dreams of God--Has God given you a dream? This is an encouraging word with practical steps to see that dream come to pass and see the Lord release His plan in and through you. It's one of those words that is worth printing out and taping in your journal so you can go back and read it when you need it.

Our Need for Self-Approval -- I love when people sling the prison doors open and yell, "Here's the way out!" This post does just that. If you are imprisoned with discouragement because no one notices your hard work or compliments aren't forthcoming--at least not coming forth enough for you, you want to read this. It has the Truth to set you free.

Project Red Light Rescue

2010-03-17T21:20:00.003-05:00

Project Red Light Rescue

My daughter is part of the Amped Jr. High group raising money to save young girls from human trafficking, slavery, and prostitution. To find out more, read below, follow the link, or contact me so I can send you more information. Thank you.

Amped Rescue
Sponsored by Amped Jr. High, a Gateway Church Ministry

Human Trafficking is more than just a cause, it is absolutely unacceptable that children are being kidnapped, sold, and forced into the slave trade.

While the world is waking up to this injustice and figuring out ways to prevent this from happening, there are millions of girls and boys already trapped in the world's red-light districts. It is estimated that there are about 1.2 million children involved in the slave trade in India alone!

This CHAMPIONS Project supports Project Red Light Rescue, a project of Sower of Seeds International, rescuing and restoring women and girls in Asia's largest red-light district.

It costs $1,928 per girl a year to rescue, house, provide medical treatment, counseling, feed, educate, etc. Imagine if you knew and were close to the girls who were trapped... How far would you go to set them free and restore their dreams?

Where I'm Reading This Week

2010-03-14T12:48:00.002-05:00

A Month-long Retreat--What a lovely way to steward the time!

Just give up! There's No Hope! --Great ways to find hope when it feels like there is none.

Choosing Life--Sometimes the right thing for someone else isn't the right thing for you, and sometimes the right thing is having the courage to do YOUR thing. One of my favorite reads lately.

Gratitude 29--Rain and Shine

2010-03-08T01:35:00.016-06:00

When life hands me both...

731. Sunshine warming and lively

732. Raised beds being filled

733. Menfolk working together

734. Blossoms exploding

735. Peaches in the promise stage

736. The wondrous smell of plum blossoms

737. Onions planted and ready to grow

738. Flowers with room to grow

739. A game of dominoes adding up to great family time

740. Chocolate covered strawberries, a misunderstood request but a delicious delight anyway

741. A new BBQ place to try

742. Rain--nurturing and calm

743. Hard conversations that bring willing hearts closer

744. Warm showers inside after a long walk in chilly showers outside

745. Boys curled up in blankets in unexpected places

746. Nurses giving advice about earaches when the doctor's office is closed

747. Decongestants relieving pressure from tender ears

748. Two swimsuits just her size

749. Sleep, restorative and blessed

750. His hand holding on, even in the hard places

Where I'm Reading This Week

2010-03-06T13:35:00.000-06:00

A feast for the soul awaiting...

When You're an Affirmation Junkie--"Affirmation junkies get the greatest fix when fixing on Love Himself."--Ann Voskamp

Battlefield for our Mind and Heart--Excellent article for women who are unmarried, considering getting married, or are married. Our hearts belong to our Husband/husband. Are we keeping them set on Him/him? "His Holy Word purifies our mind and heart from the imperfections that this world taints us with. Let us be proactive (meditating on scripture)."--Traci Michele

Noteworthy People

2010-03-04T14:32:00.006-06:00

I love personal emails. The right words at the right time can do wonders for turning a bad day around or adding the icing to an already fabulous day.

As much as I love a good email, I love real mail even more. It is a thrill to open my mailbox and find an envelope with my name written with a human hand. There is wondrous joy in seeing that someone valued me enough to take time to address an envelope and jot down love on paper.

In the world we live in, love often takes a backseat and value gets hidden under to do lists. It takes a deliberate choice of action to make people the priority they need to be.

I choose to live deliberately.

During a lull in the day, I amass my supplies within my reach on the couch. Boxes with event labels on the end, pen, and home organizer notebook. My laptop sits closed on the floor awaiting its turn.

Beside me is my cup of chocolate milk or coffee, and before me, the TV glows soft with a heart-filled movie or TV show. The story of wounds too real becoming hearts restored plays on as I do my share to contribute to heart health.

I flip open the book to the blue sheets under the tab "Cards and Dates". Four columns per page. Each column a month of names, birthdays and anniversaries.

"Lord, show me the right card and give me the right words."

I open the boxes I have bought in bulk at the store--the only way I can find time or budget to supply so many cards.

I begin with next month's list. Three anniversaries. I read the cards sometimes more than once until I know which card goes with which couple. I write the name on the front and the date in the upper right hand corner--where it is easily covered by a stamp.

Next, I look through the names for children's birthdays. Then I find cards for the men (because there are always fewer of those). Finally, each lady on my list is given a card.

When I am done, three months of cards lay before me with name and date written on the front and a card tucked loosely inside.

Then I pull out my gold folder with the stationary musts. The stamps will be pulled out each week as needed, but for now, they stay snug and secure in their pocket. One sheet of return address labels is emptied as each envelope receives its own.

Finally, as the TV drones on, and I give it only fleeting attention, I open my laptop and pull up my contacts. Quickly, I place the envelopes in alphabetical order and start writing in names.

When the stack is finished, I reorder them according to dates, so they are easily pulled each week, stamped, and mailed. Before closing them, though, I pull out the seemingly impersonal card, pray for words of encouragement and wisdom, and write my heart of celebration, gratitude, and joy for the one who will find the joy of her/his name in human writing. Sometimes I write a prayer, sometimes a word of encouragement. Always something heartfelt.

It is my way of touching heart when hands are too far apart and letting someone know that in my life, they are noteworthy.

Gratitude 28--Affirming "all the good of God in my life"

2010-03-01T13:39:00.004-06:00

Today Ann Voskamp again delivered deep Truth and solid food. "When I affirm all the good of God in my life, I am the one affirmed."

Because I'm an affirmation junkie...

Thank you, Lord God, for:

704. Anthony Evans music...worshipful...keeping me at Your feet
705. Hotdogs on plain white bread
706. Waking up to the sound of rain
707. Tears of healing
708. Friends to help process
709. Finished first submissions
710. Towels to soak spilled water on carpet
711. Questions
712. Answers that lead me deeper into You
713. Answers that do not change who I am in You
714. Ann Voskamp with words of Truth that find me in my hiding place
715. Friends, decades old, seeing the new things God is doing
719. Journals where thoughts become words...and sense is made
720. The luxury of voting for our government leaders
721. A warm bed
722. Hair clips
723. Breath
724. Dry socks
725. Clean water
726. Lunch with wonderful children
727. Cheers and shouts of joy when Lego magazines arrive after much delay
728. Wonderful critique buddies for sharpening writing skills and encouraging me on
729. Time in Your presence
730. Being consumed

Where I'm Reading This Week

2010-02-27T04:10:00.006-06:00

Here are a few wonderful places I've visited this week. I hope they bless you as well.

Seeing is Believing or Why Time Mapping is Painful--This is a challenging article on being a good steward of our God-given time.

Chilled--Honest look at how the loss of simple luxuries can make one think of those with no luxuries at all.

Fear Imps--Fear is the lie that says God can't or won't, but the Word says He can and will. Wonderful post of encouragement and faith.

How A Lent That Fails Actually Succeeds--Humbling, powerful...grace.

Silence--Even when there are no answers, there is God.

The Wonder of A Small Thing

2010-02-25T22:14:00.011-06:00

They seem like a small thing, these children books that we keep on a toddler-high shelf. Worn covers, crumpled pages, pencil marks. How many times have they survived when other books were sacrificed in the name of space. Some things, though, are not to be sacrificed.

"Mom, can I read in the Big Bed? It's the best place in the house for reading." Favorite Boy gazes at me, hands filled with books.

Nearly a decade of books read in the Big Bed. Cold afternoons spent under warm blankets with a cozy story. A rough day smoothed with some snuggling and a book or two or ten. Upset tummies and stuffy heads made better with a favorite story read...just one more time.

There is no better place in the house to curl up with a book.

He disappears, and I put away another dish.

"Honey, I'm going to the bedroom to read." The larger version of Wonder Boy with thick book in hand, a classic we picked up over the weekend. He is plodding through.

I smile and nod. He disappears to the best place in the house to read.

When the dishes are done, I follow.

From the bedroom, floats familiar words in the voice of a boy. I peek around through the door to see a Daddy listening intently, his eyes and face reacting appropriately, encouraging the boy to read more.

"Can I come in?" A Wonder Girl whispers from beside me.

I nod and watch the girl becoming woman crawl to the head of the bed now become the end.

Favorite Boy reads the last page and lays the book aside. It is Daddy's turn to read.

"Daddy, read this one." Favorite Boy excitedly shoves a book at him.

Daddy looks and laughs. "Are you sure you want this one again?"

Children's heads nod.

Oh, yes, again...while there is still time...It is slipping by faster than I want to know.

He begins to read, and the family snuggles up close.

When he is done, Favorite Boy holds a book to me.

"I like how you read this one."

It is then that I realize Favorite Boy did not come to the Big Bed because it is most comfortable for his body but because it is most comfortable for his heart.

I look at the book and laugh. There is a reason the cover is worn, and it will be worn more tomorrow because tonight, I read it...again, adding personal comments. The family laughs.

My heart memorizes the sound.

When I am done, Wonder Girl chooses not to read but instead hands Daddy a book about heroes. "Read to us about them."

And the hero of our home reads...just a little more.

We listen, our bodies resting, our minds slowing, His hands knitting our hearts together.

The Big Bed is turned topsy turvy, heads where feet belonged and feet anywhere they'll fit.

The world is just right, though, and the family is right where it needs to be...in the most comfortable place for reading there is...together.

Able to Fly

2010-02-21T19:02:00.003-06:00

Like everyone else I know right now, I am caught up in the Olympics. This week I watched men fly, and it made me want to fly, too.

I am always amazed to see men scooch out on to a bar where they sit calmly as they contemplate the plunge they are about to take. With seemingly no fear, they slip from their perch and race down an insanely steep slope toward an abrupt end of the track. However, instead of falling off the edge and plummeting downward where injury or death awaits, they launch themselves into the air and fly.

When I was little, I watched the men fly then, too. However, they looked different. They would line up straight as possible to reduce friction that would reduce their forward momentum. Now, they fly with arms spread and skis in a wide-V. One of the jumpers explained that they've learned the more air they could keep in contact with, the more it helped hold them fly.

I fully understand.

It is easy to think avoiding all the negative things will make me a better Christian. However, I have found if I truly want to fly, it's not what I avoid but what I choose to stay in contact with that keeps me going.

There are a variety of ways to stay in contact with God. Going to church to worship and learn from the pastor is a great beginning. Being part of a strong group of believers who encourage and challenge really stimulates growth. Periodic retreats or conferences can also feed one's soul, but there are so many more ways to have contact--personal contact--with the Lord every day.

A few of my "constant contact" things include:

Morning quiet time. I get up, and instead of booting up my computer, I open up my Bible. Sometimes I pray, "Lord, lead me where you want me to go and reveal what you want to impart," and I open the Bible and start reading. Other times I research a specific topic. Right now, I am reading through the Bible again. When I struggle with focusing, I ask the Lord for help and keep plowing through.

Journal. Journaling isn't about my religious discipline. I don't journal everyday. I don't journal because someone told me to do it. I journal so I don't forget. I write down prayers, heartaches, gratitude, answers to prayer, scriptures that really speak to me, things people say that feed my spirit. The whole purpose is to remember what the Lord says, apply to my life, and build my faith because of His faithfulness.

Constant prayer. I am a homeschooling mother of two. I don't have time to kneel by my bed for hours. However, I talk to the Lord all day long. We talk about breakfast, the order of the day, how to explain algebra, how to respond calmly when I am frustrated because I don't understand how hard it is to remember 7x8 is 56, how I can bless my husband when he comes home, what to write about in my blog, what to teach at our co-op, and so on. We talk about EVERYTHING. I heard for a long time that nothing is too big for God. What really changed my prayer life was when I realized nothing was too small for Him either. He loves to be right in the middle of everything. He's my best friend, and we talk constantly.

Hearing God. I get asked about this a lot. I think there are two keys to hearing God. 1. Believing He talks. 2. Recognizing His voice. I believe God loves to talk about life in general. I am His presence here. Paul calls it being an ambassador. I am not the Holy Spirit, but I am the representative. The Lord loves sharing how to bless His children, bring His heart into a situation, and impact His world. He loves telling me what I need to eat so His temple is well cared for. He loves being involved.

The most common question is how He sounds. For me, it is usually a lot like a thought that could easily be mine, except it usually requires action on my part that I would probably like to ignore. :-) For instance, one day the children were exploding with behavioral issues. Instead of reacting in anger, I took time to pray for wisdom. I needed to deal with the source of the problem, not simply react. The very clear thought came to my mind, "Take them to the zoo." I promise you that was not me. I was not going to reward these out of control children with the zoo. That was crazy. I prayed again. "Take them to the zoo." Fine. I'll take them to the zoo. I'll add my wild animals with their wild animals, and we'll see just how well that goes. We had been at the zoo less than ten minutes when these rebelling, obnoxious children put their arms around me and said, "Mom, we are sorry for the way we acted. We love you. Thank you for taking us to the zoo even though we were bad." I would have NEVER taken them to the zoo, but God knew what they needed. Odd answers that go against the comfort of my flesh? Probably God.

Being overwhelmed by Him. I make it a practice to be amazed by Him. I choose to make note of good things He does, blessings He gives, and prayers He gives. I take time to consider His love and be amazed by grace. If anything makes me fly, it's the overwhelming reality of a love that uses grace to reach beyond my imperfections to show mercy and connect our hearts.

Saying goodnight. When I lie in bed and am in the process of falling asleep, I talk with the Lord about the day, various things on my mind, ways He overwhelms me. I pray for people who are on my heart, and I thank Him for the multiple of blessings He has poured out on me, those I love, and my country. I think about the scriptures of the morning and the words of the day, and I ask Him for wisdom. Again, we just talk. I listen as He shares ways I could have responded better or been more forward acting. We share hearts, and when I slip into sleep, our hearts are one.

As a Christian, I still fall down. It is part of being human and living in a fallen world. However, I have found I don't have to be imprisoned by my own imperfections. Instead, I scooch onto a promise of His faithfulness, slip from my comfort zone into the wild adventure of His vision, and when I reach the end of my own ability, I leap into His presence and His promises. He is there to lift me above what the human mind believes is possible...

And I fly.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2010

The Choice

2010-02-16T21:07:00.006-06:00

My feet are tired, and my body is ready to be stilled, to stretch out. It has been a good day, but a long day. We are tired. Beside me, the Man of my Dreams dozes off into a much needed rest. Down the hall, I hear the voices of the children as they wind down from their still burning excitement. I recline here staring into the glow of my computer screen, so tired, not ready to sleep.

Sometimes my heart's incredible need to know and be known is more enticing than my body's need for rest, and in this quiet, I listen for a whisper, for His whisper.

When the house is buzzing and activity whirls around, I can sit and read my Bible, maybe journal, slip in a prayer, but it is now, when the distractions are silenced and my heart is still that I hear the best. It is when I determine to create an intimate rendezvous instead of hoping bumping into Him throughout the day will somehow allow me to see enough of Him to know Him, to learn His character, to witness His whole heart. It is more than a need for Him to do something. It is my need to be something. To be His. To be consumed by Him.

To my wonderment, He seems to need the same. To be mine. To be consumed by me.

How does one meet such a Lover? How do affairs with passion this deep begin? How do they continue?

All great love affairs happen the same way.

By choice.

I choose to turn off the TV and the computer.
I choose to value Him more than a chat group or any of the writers of the blogs I enjoy.
I choose to stay up a little later or get up a bit earlier to listen to His heart and to share mine.
I choose to notice the innumerable ways He says He loves me daily.
I choose to believe He acts determinedly, not by coincidence.
I choose to believe Him when He says He'd rather die than live without me.
I choose to avoid things that would hurt Him or draw my heart from Him.
I choose to read His love letter and believe He means every word.

A great love affair is not something that happens by coincidence. It will never be convenient, and life will do everything to steal it. A truly wondrous love affair is created through actions and choices. It is a determined goal that is reached a hundred different ways each day. It is a consuming thought process that asks how to speak value to the Lover.

It is a choice.

A choice He made first...a choice that gives me every reason to choose Him.

Effortless

2010-02-14T19:54:00.006-06:00

When it's done right, it looks effortless.

Quite possibly my favorite part of the Olympics, couples figure skating is a picture of beauty. As the couples dance together on the ice in perfectly unity, it is easy to watch them and be enamoured by their perfection. To me, it is nothing less than breathtaking.

I camp out on my couch, turn down the lights, and get lost in the perfection of two people who move together as one, whose perfection is in their partnership. I am enthralled by their excellence. The precision amazes me.

And they make it look so easy. It is as though they have always been so amazing, as though they entered this world with skates on their feet and flawless lines programmed into their limbs. In fact, these examples of grace learned to walk by falling down and getting back up. The elegant lines were proceeded by ugly bruises and hot tears. Those heart-stopping lifts were cultivated through the furnace of falling and getting back up...one more time. Their unity is the result of hours of practicing oneness, moving together, working out the bumps and awkwardness, learning trust, learning to move as one.

There are times I look at Christians I know, spiritual peers whom I admire, and I am caught up in their seemingly flawless Christian walk. I watch their spiritual dance of unity with God, and I become enthralled by the perfection of their relationship. It looks as though they never make a mistake, which is pretty discouraging on its own, but they make it look like they've always had the closeness I see now, and that can be really discouraging.

The truth is, though, I only see them a fraction of the time. I don't see them in their quiet time, on their face, tears dripping from their chins as they seek strength to endure the fire that surrounds them. I don't know their repentance of yesterday's sins. I don't see their hearts or the wounds from the latest assault that may have even come in the form of friendly fire.

I see the matured selves, the ones that have grown from the struggle of learning to tune their ears to the Father's voice, repeatedly putting themselves on the altar, and painfully killing flesh until Jesus shows more than they do. I see the walk that has come from stumbling in faith, falling, repenting, and receiving grace. A walk that has grown steadier by finding mercy and being forgiven. A walk that is not perfect but a heart that is perfectly set on God's faithfulness.

These are not perfect people doing a perfect dance. They are real people, who take real falls, who feel real pain. They are people who do train for excellence and do the best they can, who can get it beautifully right or painfully wrong on any given day. They are people who do not put faith in their performance but in God's grace.

Ultimately, though, it is not the precision of the performance that fascinates me. It is knowing the imperfections the couples...and the Christians...have faced and overcome that keeps my attention. It is their courage to work through the fatigue, endure the pain, ignore the voices of failure, and learn from past falls that inspires me. I cannot help but be encouraged when I see these people of excellence doing the best they can and trust that no matter what the outcome, they will have done enough. It isn't their perfection that I admire.

No, I watch them because I want to learn their ability to walk in unity...

...and it look so effortless.

Encamped About by His Presence

2010-02-11T08:52:00.001-06:00

Precious Ann Voskamp at A Holy Experience posted "How the Work You Do Today Can Last Forever" today. It reminded me of a very scary night that reminded me how deeply loved we are and how the Lord encamps around us. I hope it helps you see Jesus more clearly in your life, too.

Encamped About by His Presence

His face went numb, standing in front of me. I saw the fear flash in his eyes as feeling seeped from his arm as well.

I stared sure what I was seeing was not really happening, but the dead silence spoke too loudly for me to believe it a dream.

I knew these symptoms. Loved members of my family had gone numb.

He would see how he felt in the morning he assured me as he tried to rub feeling back to his face.

I grabbed my laptop and typed madly. Symptoms…numb…right arm…

Article after article, pages blinding with the same answer…and one authoritative command. “Treating a stroke within the first hour can prevent damage…”

He picked up his coat and wallet. Do not wake the little ones sleeping soundly. He’d go by himself.

My heart walked out the door with him.

The sound of the car was still filling the house when I reached for the phone. No biological family near. Only adopted ones. Despite the late hour, he picked up. “What’s wrong?” People do not call to chat at that hour of the night.

I explain the symptoms. I explain the children sleeping. I explain he went alone. I do not have to ask. “Jerri, I’ll call you from the ER.”

An eternity rolls by in the next thirty minutes. I fill the time calling friends, asking for prayer. They pray. I feel it. I do not sleep, but I do not fear. I sit and thank the Lord for His presence in Spirit and in the bodies of those who love us.

A call comes. They are running tests. He is coherent. Feeling is returning.

A whispered thank you…to God for His presence…and to our friend for his.

The night grows long. In the early a.m. hours, the phone rings. Prayer warriors asking for updates. I share what I know. They will pray until the Lord lets them sleep. I promise a phone call when I know answers.

The sun is waking up when the final call comes. All is normal. We are coming home.

We.

The husband with returned feeling. The Provider of healing, comfort, and presence. The friend who shows us how Jesus looks in flesh.

And now we all rest.

The warriors rest from their prayers and slip into sleep with praise on their lips. The neighbor calls to work. Family emergency. Will be in late. He needs to rest. I spoon with the husband returned to me. My body slips toward sleep, and I rest…in the timeless love that embraces us…in the ever loving King who encamps so tightly around the lives He gives us…through the people who fill them.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2010

My Pity Party, and His Ponderous Purpose

2010-02-10T14:01:00.008-06:00

I'm having a pity party. It's not a big party. There are no streamers or balloons or dirge music like I've been known to have in the past. This is a small, quiet, hidden in my recliner under my blanket because Rob and the children shared their virus pity party.

Tomorrow night I was going to host a ladies group. We were going to focus on the Lover's view of His Beloved. I was looking forward to time in the Lord's presence with some amazing women I know. And, yes, I do know I can have great time in His presence all by myself, but there is something wondrous about being part of corporate worship with women whose hearts are filled with adoration for the King. You know He can't resist that. He starts smelling the sweet aroma of praise, and He has to show up for the party.

Then He starts to whisper words of love and tenderness. He shares how much He adores His Beloved, and He speaks of plans and promises. It is as intoxicating as wine--the presence of the King.

Hearts are healed. Value is reestablished. Identities are restored. Lives move forth with plan and purpose.

More than that, though, love is poured out, and each one becomes a channel through which the Lord pours His divine love into a broken world, a world desperate for being valuable.

And the Presence...The intoxicating, overwhelming wonder of His Presence as He saturates everything...and the understanding of who we are and what we can do because we understand Him better...

It's not just a Bible study or a teaching. It's a rendezvous between the Lover and His Beloved.

I was so looking forward to it, but due to my health and the questionable weather, it's been cancelled, and I'm a bit whiny about it.

Oh, I know. It could be worse. Thankfully, I'm just tired and worn down, not flu-ish. It's not like we are expecting to be snowed in for a week, and the Lord does meet with me wherever I am, and He'll meet with the ladies who had planned on coming here. Still. This isn't the way I wanted it. I had a picture in mind of how it was supposed to be, and now it isn't.

You know what makes this even harder to swallow? Planning this evening was so far outside my comfort zone. I'm comfortable with worship. I'm comfortable with prayer. I'm comfortable with prophetic ministry. I enjoy women getting together and blessing each other. However, having women at my home where I have to make the coffee and create order that isn't really our daily life is hard. Planning snacks and music and details is so far outside my comfort zone, but I was willing to do it because I believed it was the Lord's will. I believed He wanted to love on these ladies and bless them and cuddle them.

It was a stretch, but I took the step of faith...and seemingly ran into a brick wall.

Somehow that seems wrong.

Despite my disappointment, though, I'm asking the Lord for His thoughts. I had prayed about this, and I was sure I had heard Him say this was His plan. Other, women were excited about being here, too. He even shared His heart to bless these women and show them how special they are. So why is it not working out?

Or is it?

I have known for a long time that the Lord's desire for me is to speak value and love to His ladies. He passionately wants to restore them to their rightful places and true value. This year He has spoken to me profusely about this topic, and I've been praying for ideas and vision to accomplish this.

In the midst of emails and conversations concerning the women's night, hearts have been shared at new levels. I am learning of women's hearts with fresh eyes--with His eyes. Ideas for ministry I had never considered are being laid in my lap. I am listening, taking notes, planning.

Could it be what I saw as a night of ministry was simply a door to a life ministry? Could it be that my small-mind had to take a small step so He could show me the huge adventure of the big picture? And could it be that it took not getting what they had hoped for these precious ladies to share what their hearts need? Could it be that is what God had in mind all along?

If this is His way of revealing His plan to meet a need greater than I realized, that is pretty amazing.

And to think, I could have missed it by being so busy whining about what I wasn't getting that I didn't see what He was giving me. Now, that would have been pitiful.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2010

Encouraging Challenge

2010-02-05T08:37:00.002-06:00

Pray for the Lord to encouragement or love someone through you today.

Then go through your email list, find that person(s), ask the Lord for the right words, and courageously type them in. Send the email.

You never know who needs to hear from you today.

And if more than one person comes to mind, it is most likely because the Lord wants to speak to the others, too.

Be bold!
Be encouraging!
Be Jesus' light in the world's dark spots!!!

Exciting Day!!!

2010-02-05T08:32:00.003-06:00

I am excited about today!

I am excited to see how God is going to use me to love folks and how He plans to invade this world with His love, presence, and wisdom through me!

I am excited to pour forth joy into others' lives because of the joy He has put in mine!

I am excited because as wonderful as yesterday or last week or last month was, today He has even better things planned!

I am excited to be vessel of blessing for Him!

I am excited to see what He wants to speak into others' lives and how He wants to bless them!!

It's an exciting day, and I'm excited that I get to be part of it!!!!

One Voice

2010-02-03T16:24:00.008-06:00

Do you ever see swimmers or divers tip their heads to the side, give a shake, and rub their ear in a jerking motion? Maybe you've even done it yourself. It is the universal sign for, "Water is in my ear and needs to come out." Seems to work from what I can tell.

Wish it worked that way with voices.

See, I have this voice in my head. Okay, I have several voices in my head, but one in particular turns up the volume when I sit down to write a blog entry.

Before I ever begin to write a sentence, I hear her telling me how I need someone to teach me to write the all powerful beginning sentence. Now, she never told me exactly what was wrong with the ones I wrote or how I needed to correct them. However, with everything she read, her statements started about the first sentence and how I needed to use it to catch the audience.

Now, don't get me wrong. She has given me compliments, and I know she was sincere. However, her compliments were always followed by a correction, like when she said, "You're a wonderful writer. You just need someone to teach you to be good at it."

Unfortunately, like most folks, my brain latches onto the last thing it hears, and whatever that might be echoes on and on.

So, each time I sit down here to type, I hear her correcting me, telling me how I am not making a good use of my talent because I am not perfecting my work so I can publish it, trying to form me into her idea of a successful writer.

Often, I simply close the computer and walk away.

However, today, I choose not to walk away. Today, I choose to confront that voice...and a dozen or more others.

See, the truth is that voice isn't the only voice, and much of its power comes from all the other voices resounding in its words, words that tell me how I am failing, how I am not good enough, how I need to live up to someone else's idea of perfection or success. If I listen closely, I hear my father's voice in harmonious criticism as he tells me years after his death that I like to think I am good at something but in reality, I'm not. I hear teachers who didn't approve of my different way of seeing the world. Over twenty years later, I can still see my hands holding the SAT results paper that said clearly I wasn't as smart as I thought I was.

If I let them, the voice would drown me. I would erase my blog because even after I post these things I hear voices telling me that they are not as useful as I want them to be and if I wrote nothing, no one would notice. I would never teach another class because, according to the voices, I'm not really teaching anything and people know I'm only masquerading as someone with knowledge. All conferences would be cancelled because I have nothing of worth to say. In fact, no one can relate to me and at some point someone will realize I'm only a fraud, someone with a lot of answers but lives an annoyingly imperfect life.

Yes, I could drown in the voices.

But there is another Voice, and that Voice reminds me that He never had delusions of my perfection, and He never questions my purpose. My purpose isn't to make all those voices happy. My purpose isn't even to quiet them. My purpose is to live boldly for Him despite them.

And so today, I heed His voice...and write...

The Blessing of God's Discipline

2010-01-27T19:23:00.005-06:00

I had been struggling. For the last three or four days, I had been near tears. Things were out of control, and I was drowning. As bad as that was, worse than that was knowing I knew better than this and still not being able to get my footing back. It was like being at the beach, and each wave knocking over me and filling my mouth and nose with stinging salt water as it rolled over me. I knew there was a ground to stand on, but I still kept falling over. What was the problem?

I might know everything, but I know Who does. I went to the Lord and said, "This is not of you. I'm doing something. What is it?"

Clear as a bell, His voice rang through the mayhem. Relieved and thankful, I rejoiced. Father God had set me free from my own devices, my own thinking, my own answers. He had moved me from my limits to His abundance.

With one simple statement from the Lord, I knew what I was doing wrong, corrected my position, and was back on my feet. Instead of knocking me down, waves rolled by while I stood strong.

When I told my friend about it, excitement and gratitude poured out of me. God is so faithful. He's so merciful. He answered me when I called to Him, and He set me free. How amazing is our God!

Quiet filled the air. Finally, she said, "See, that is a difference between us. God corrects you, and you get excited. God corrects me, and I feel like caving into a ball."

My turn to be silent. Cave into a ball? The God of all the universe just took time to hear my prayer and set me free from what had me imprisoned in chaos. Yeah. I'm excited.

However, her voice didn't just lack excitement, it was filled with hurt.

"Why do you think that is?" I asked.

She tossed around several suggestions. In the end she summed it up, "I'm not like you. When God corrects me, I think He's mad and will punish me. When He corrects you, you think He is doing some great and is really doing it so you can have something better. I dread it. It fills you with joy."

That is a huge difference.

Since that conversation a few days ago, I've spent some time with the Lord to understand the differing views of discipline.

For most of us, most "correction" came in the form of punishment. The definition of punishment is "any pain, suffering, or loss inflicted on a person because of a crime or offense." Punishment is driven by revenge--revenge for making someone look bad, revenge for daring to disobey, revenge for being a bother or inconvenience, revenge for a bad day or stress at work. Correction had little to do with correction and a lot to do with venting of anger and controlling through fear. It isn't about making you a better person. It's about making you a non-entity, one that does not require attention, one that keeps you in line without having to actually deal with you.

Unfortunately, punishment not only affects behavior. It affects identities.

Punishment tells a person he is a bother. It says a person is not worth the effort of correcting, only silencing. It strips a person of value and opens the door for shame and rejection. It is often unjust, cruel, and demeaning. The goal is to invoke fear and create thoughtless submission.

Exactly what part of that fits into the picture of God as love?

That is what the Bible says. "God is love (1 John 4:16)." So what part of fear, devaluing, shame, rejection, acting unjustly, or cruelty fits that picture of God?

Let's understand this "God is love" thing. We are talking about a God who put His own Son on a cross to die so people would not perish. What more could He do to scream, "You are valuable beyond anything you can imagine"? Where did Jesus ever respond to someone who came to Him and asked for forgiveness or healing by making them feel ashamed? When did someone reach out for Jesus or call out to Jesus and He reject them? When was Jesus ever cruel to anyone?

Now, some of you may be asking about the Old Testament and the judgment there. Have you ever really read the Old Testament? Have you ever noticed that when someone turned to God, even in the Old Testament, God responded? For instance, Nineveh which was known as a horrible, godless place, repented, and God responded. Hezekiah was going to die, but he turned his heart to God, and God gave him fifteen more years. Rahab was a prostitute in Jericho, but because she believed God, He saved her and even put her in the lineage of Christ.

Look through the Bible and find a place where God rejects someone who tried to repent. If you find it, share it with me. I won't hold my breath.

So if God isn't about punishment, what is He about?

Discipline.

Discipline is "the treatment suited to a disciple or learner; education; development of the faculties by instruction and exercise; training, whether physical, mental, or moral."

What a difference in outlook! Punishment sees people as a bother, but discipline sees people as learners in need of development through instruction and exercise. Punishment sees people as a liability, but discipline sees them as a valuable potential. Punishment teaches people to hide and be unseen, but discipline teaches them how to rise up and excel.

That means when God corrects someone He does it because He sees a valuable person with incredible potential who simply needs to learn a different way of doing things, maybe needs to develop a new way to deal with a problem. He doesn't see a problem. He sees an answer. He sees someone worth investing in, someone He believes can do better.

I fully believe the Lord disciplines us with joy because He knows each new thing we learn develops His character in us, and when that happens, we are freer, more joyful, and more productive.

When my children help around the house, whether that be in the kitchen or in the yard, I give them directions, not so they can be ashamed of what they don't know, but so they can learn something new, so next time they can be more efficient, safer, or more adventurous. My goal is not squelch their spirits but to give them freedom to move beyond their limited thinking or faulty solutions.

If I understand that is my role as a parent, how much more God?!

God's discipline is not cruel or devaluing. On the contrary, because He values us and sees value in us, He wants to free us from our limited thought processes and our broken ways of doing things. His purpose is not to invoke fear but to give freedom.

Yeah, I like God's correction. It means my life will be better, the heritage I leave with my children will be better than the one I received, I'll know how to relate to others better, the world will be better because I am revealing more of Him in it, and I will like me better, too. How could it get better than that? But then, that is how the blessings of God work, even the blessing of His discipline.

My Birthday

2010-01-10T10:43:00.006-06:00

I lied. I admit it. And it wasn't even a "sort of lie". This was a big fat "I know I'm lying" lie.

My family asked what I wanted for my birthday, and I told them I really didnt' know. But I did. I not only knew what I wanted, I wanted it a lot. However, I couldn't tell them that, so I lied.

However, now, I have to tell you the whole truth about it because--no lie--it was amazing.

The week after Christmas I turned 41. Note the candles. Four blue and one green. Great idea by the Man of my Dreams. Kept him from going through all the matches we owned, and the fire department didn't have to come check out the glow over the horizon, and I didn't have to hyperventilate trying to blow them all out.

In the past my birthday hasn't been a big deal. It comes a week after Christmas and right after New Year's. Folks are still trying to convince themselves to finish off the turkey leftovers and wondering why they stayed up to watch that crazy ball in New York. Really, it has just never been that important.

Until this year.

And that is what makes it so very important.

When I was growing up, there was a person of significance in my life that told me multiple times over several years that they* wished I had never born, that their life would be easier without me, and in fact, the world would be a better place if I weren’t in it.

I now know statements such as that are called “word curses” because they steal, kill, and destroy. They steal identities, kill dream, and destroy destinies. They are lies from the pit of hell, and they can only be overcome with the Truth of God. Thankfully, over the years, I have come to know the Truth.

The Truth is I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Before the beginning of time, the Lord already had plans for me. His plans for me are always good, and they entail hope and a future. He plans to do me good and not harm. I am here, not by some cosmic freak accident, but because the God of the universe deemed it so, because He has things planned for me to do. According to His Word, all He made is good, and as one of His creations, I am good. He delights over me with singing. His love for me is beyond my wildest dreams, and His greatest desire is unity with me.

I know this. This is the Truth.

And yet, when the bravado drops, honestly digs deep, and I answer the question of what I really want, I sheepishly confess I want to know the world is better because I’m here. I want to know I am sharing the important part of me, the God part of me, the only part of me that matters. I want to know my being here makes a difference because of the difference He has made in me. It isn’t enough to simply take up space and do no harm. I want to know whatever realm I enter is better when I leave than it was when I arrived. I want to know people’s lives are richer because He put me in them…because He is in mine.

The fact is I have a pretty ordinary life. I am a wife and mom, which I love. I don’t take big trips. I don’t do glamorous things. When I write the family Christmas letter, I have a hard time filling up a paragraph about my life. When people ask what I’ve been doing, there really isn’t much to say. As I said, a pretty ordinary life. Can an ordinary life really mean that much? I wanted to know.

How does one ask for such a gift?

Does one dare? Is that shallow? Is it immature? Is it…dumb? Unsure, I lied and told my family I didn’t really want anything in particular, and I told God my heart.

A few months ago, my friend Rhonda Harkin told me the Lord always gives her a gift on her biological birthday and her spiritual birthday. I had been asking for a promise for the year to come for several years, but I had not asked for a birthday present…until this year.

I try to never put parameters on God’s gifts. I miss things when I do that. Sometimes I’m so busy looking for one thing that I don’t see the wonderful gift He set before me. This year, I was brave in that I told Him I wanted a Word, the kind of Word that rips off lies that dangles over my life and affects me in ways I don’t always realize. I wanted the kind of Word that I could go back for the rest of my life and say, “This is what God said.” I wanted a Word declaring destiny, something that screamed, “This is how amazing I declare my daughter to be,” and I wanted to not miss it.

But, knowing God is infinitely more wise and amazing than I can imagine, I left it up to Him.

But…in my heart of hearts, I thought, “Wouldn’t it be utterly cool to get a mailbox full of cards from people telling me I make a difference to them and their lives are better because of me?” Really, though, how likely was that to happen?

On the morning of my birthday, I got up before the rest of the house and enjoyed my quiet time. I waited to see if God had anything big to say. Nothing. And yet, I felt He had a smug smile and a sense of anticipation, like He had something planned and was just waiting to yell, “Surprise!”

When my family got up, they made me breakfast, gave me pens and books. The perfect gifts for me. But what struck me were the cards.

Each one had given me a card, and in each card were words that said, “Mom, my life is amazing because you are in it.” “My wife, my world is better because of you.” “Mom, you are so important to me.”

Words I had requested in secret lay before me. I read them allowed, letting them soak the atmosphere, letting them soak my heart. The Lord had heard my heart’s request, and He had given me these gifts. I sat amazed.

The Man of my Dreams let me know that there was another gift, but it was coming in the mail, so I had to wait. I didn’t care. I had what I had asked for. It hadn’t been the mailbox full of cards, but it had been cards full of the exact words I had said I wanted to hear. And I was so thankful.

A few hours later, I sat in the same chair with another box in my hands. Although it was brightly wrapped, it was obviously a shirt box. However, when I shook it, it didn’t sound like clothes. In fact, I had no idea what it could be.

I carefully pulled the tape, unwrapped the box, and folded the paper. Then I lifted the top.

My breath caught.

The box was filled with envelopes. In each envelope was a birthday card.

At first I looked at each envelope, the writing, the return address. Friends for decades and friends for only a few months. Cards from all over the United States.

A box full of them.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Back in November, I borrowed your computer and got email addresses from your sent items list. I emailed everyone, told them about your birthday, and asked them to send a card. I had them send it to (our neighbor’s) so you wouldn’t know. I feel bad because it really isn’t anything I got you, but I hope you like it.”

How does one say, “It is perfect,” and not sound cliché?

But it was. It was the exact thing I wanted, the thing I had no words…or courage…to ask for. There it sat in my hands.

For a full half hour or more, I opened envelope after envelope. Again, I saw my words lying before me. “My life is richer because you are in it…You have made such a difference to me…The world is a better place because you are here.”

There were a variety of material gifts tucked in as well, and I liked them, but they weren’t the real gift.

A few hours later, a friend stood at the door. She held out a card and a gift, but I knew. She was the gift. Her time. Her thoughtfulness. Her sharing my day. Everything she said by what she did. That was the gift.

That night I sat in the quiet of my study with a box of cards in front of me. The perfect gift. And yet, I knew that wasn’t the real gift. The real gift was the people who had filled the box, the ones who fill my heart.

Pretty amazing, isn’t it?

Wondering about the gift the Lord gave me or what He said? He said I’m so important that even before I knew what I really wanted, He was already putting it together. In fact, before Rhonda had told me about her birthday gifts, He was already working on mine.

I think the greatest gift He gives me, other than salvation, is His ongoing expression of love. I am in awe of His intimate observations of me, not as an omniscient God, but as a devoted friend and Lover. I am forever amazed at the details He makes into important things...the ways He makes me important.

He overwhelms me.

I am left in awe of how important my ordinary life is to such an extraordinary God. And knowing that makes all the difference...in everybody's life.

That's the Truth.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2010

(For all those who were part of this amazing gift, please know you have made a difference in my life, and I am so very thankful for each of you. The cards, goodies, and kind words are so deeply appreciated, but YOU are the real gift. I love you.)

*Please note, I do know I am talking about one person and am aware that “they” is a plural pronoun. I have chosen to be gender unspecific on purpose.

Fasting--What I Get

2010-01-03T18:06:00.001-06:00

Despite having grown up in church, I didn’t grow up with the discipline of fasting. No one I knew ever mentioned fasting. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I learned about fasting as a discipline for modern times, and it wasn’t until a few years ago that I understood it wasn’t just a religious requirement that could be used to impress God and convince Him to see things my way or do things my way.

Fasting isn’t ominous or mysterious, and it isn’t a way to manipulate God. The fact is fasting is pretty practical, easy to understand, and does nothing for God whatsoever.

Honestly, for a long time I thought fasting was just another requirement God threw at us so we could prove our devotion to Him by being miserable. The fact is fasting is something God offers as a means to grow closer to Him by giving up dependency on ourselves or other things and learning to focus that dependency on Him. Sounds lovely and theoretical, doesn’t it? Let me make it a bit more practical.

About five or six years ago I was going through a time when I really wondered how committed I was to the Lord. I am blessed with a pretty nice lifestyle, and I honestly wondered if I would be willing to be uncomfortable or even miserable for Him. Could I give up my comforts and still praise Him, or would I blame Him? Being a simple person, I simply asked Him, and He answered, “Fast all food for three days.” Huh? What kind of answer was that? That’s all He said, so I did that.

I fasted all food for three days. When it was over, I asked, “Okay, are you going to tell me now?”

He answered with a question.
“Were you ever hungry?”
Yes.
“How did that feel?”
My stomach hurt, like cramped and ached. I got dizzy sometimes, and I really didn’t feel too good.
“Then why did you do it?”
Because I wanted to know if I was willing to be uncomfortable for you.
“Were you?”

I suddenly knew. Yes, I was willing to be uncomfortable for Him. How much so, I didn’t know, but I believed if He could give me the ability to meet the discomfort He asked of me then, He would give me all I needed to meet the requirements He had later.

On another occasion I had been praying for our family, and I had been asking the Lord to knit our hearts together and unite us. In response, He said to fast the TV and computer. We don’t watch trash TV or play questionable games. Surely Dora wasn’t bad, but fasting isn’t about what’s bad. Fasting is about finding out what is better. And I wanted better for our family than what we had.

I sent my friends a message that I would be offline and only taking emergency phone calls for two weeks. I turned off my computer and started counting down to the answer He was going to give me.

It took all of about three days for me to realize the fasting was the answer. Instead of spending time on mindless things that isolated us, we spent our time playing games, reading together, and going for a walk. We found each other again, and we loved it. When the two weeks were up, my son looked at me sadly and said, “I don’t want to have to turn the TV back on. I want us.”

Now we make a habit of no electronics so we can enjoy each other.

This year the Lord has asked me to again give up the electronics, but that isn’t all. I am to give up all blogs, social sites, and electronic media, along with all written material such as books, papers, or magazines, that I use to meet my spiritual or emotional needs.

At first, I thought I was hearing incorrectly. The Lord always allows Christians to encourage one another. Why would He cut that line? He corrected me. That isn’t what this is about. He is not trying to alienate me. He is endeavoring to focus me.

When I’m having a bad day or am struggling with some kind of mental or emotional turmoil, it is easy for me to look for solace in one of the Spirit-filled blogs I read. They hear from God, so I trust them. God wants me to make the effort to hear Him for myself and to trust He cares enough to say something. Frankly, that is sometimes more my problem than believing He talks. I know He talks, but knowing He still cares about the mundane life of a human being takes a lot of faith. He wants to build mine.

It’s easy to let folks in my social networks affirm me and validate me. It is also easy to become a target for lies about how little value I have or how unimportant I am if I am not validated or affirmed enough or at the right time. The Lord doesn’t want me living in that trap. He wants me to be affirmed and validated by Him.

When I’m facing a problem and I feel overwhelmed, it’s always nice to let my brain rest in a good book, but a book is not my hiding place. Only my Lord is.

As the Lord began to share these things with me, He spoke clearly, “I’m asking you to give up your idols. Those things aren’t bad, but your heart toward them is.”

Wow. Who knew Oswald Chambers could be an idol? He would be mortified.

The Lord did not ask me to fast those things because they are bad or because He likes to see me give up things I love. He doesn’t sit on His throne and think of ways to make me miserable. Instead, He thinks of ways to answer my prayers. My recent one has been, “Lord, get rid of anything that keeps my heart from you.” How much love He must have to answer so quickly and with such clarity.

As I said, fasting does nothing for Him, but it will get rid of the band aids I use and force me to look to the perfect Comforter, the real Counselor, and the only true Refuge to meet my needs. I’m giving up stuff, and I’m getting God. That is what fasting does.

Copyright 2010 Jerri Phillips

My Thoughts on Tiger Woods, Elin, and God's Redemptive Power

2009-12-28T19:05:00.005-06:00

I am not one to weight in on the Hollywood babble business. In fact, I only recall one time when I had anything to say about specific celebrity character. You can wander through my archives and see that I could empathize all too well with Michael Vick and his need for salvation, redemption, and restoration. No, I've never fought dogs, but I have sinned, and I am as much in need of God's mercy and the Holy Spirit's heart changing within me as he is.

Now, I again empathize with a celebrity that has proven too human for most folks' tastes.

Today I was on Facebook, and someone made a off-hand comment about Tiger needing to talk to a variety of other "fallen" sports figures so people who know how to spin things can deal with the media, his sponsors, and so on.

Let me put this in clear perspective for you. A Christian is saying Tiger Woods needs to find folks who can make his lie look better and get him out of hot water with folks. If that weren't enough, the focus is all about the folks that don't matter in the first place. The focus has nothing to do with his family, specifically his wife. Why not? Isn't she the one that he needs to reach at this point?

I wonder: is it that this person, and others like her, are so worldly that the world's way of thinking pervades their thoughts, or are they so hopeless that God does not pervade their thoughts?

This is the way I see it. Tiger and his family don't need spin doctors. They don't need caustic remarks or shallow attempts at humor at their expense.

Tiger Woods and his lovely wife need to know Jesus and His restorative and redeeming power. They need to be inundated with letters from people who have survived adultery, been healed from its desires and effects, and walk in God's restoration of their covenant.

Either God is sovereign--even over adultery--or He's not.

Do Tiger and Elin know that? Do people in the church? If we do, why aren't we spending our time praying for them instead of trashing them? If we don't, how can we hope they ever will?

And in case you are wondering, I know God is sovereign. It is more than a belief. It is absolute assurance to the core of my being. If you need someone to pray with you or stand with you, please contact me via my profile email. God's heart is always for healing, redemption, salvation, and restoration. Always.

Ponder: Grace

2009-12-26T10:55:00.002-06:00

"I think anyone who is not fantastically amazed by grace does not truly understand it." -- Jerri Phillips

Divine Divinity

2009-12-25T15:13:00.001-06:00

My grandma has been gone for over six years now. Years before that, her mind abandoned her. For the most part, she has been gone to me for over fifteen years now. For some reason, this Christmas finds me missing her immensely.

There are two things I remember with great fondness when I think of my grandma: gardening and divinity. Gardening as in flowers and vegetables. Divinity as in the candy.

I used to work with my grandma in the garden a lot. I helped her plant the garden, pick the veggies, and can the harvest. My definition of ambrosia? Grandma's black eyed peas, canned in a jar, hot and poured over a slice of bread. Food does not get much better than that.

I didn't help Grandma cook much. I never fried chicken with her or made cream gravy, but I did wear my arm out a few times using her old whisk to make meringue for her pies. And on a few special occasions, we made divinity.

I have not had divinity since the last time we made it together over two decades ago...until today.

For reasons I do not know, I needed divinity this Christmas, so I pulled out a recipe a friend sent me. Mary and I made cookies together a few years ago, and I mentioned my grandma and her divinity. Mary sent me a copy of her divinity recipe, and I've kept it like a treasure waiting to be enjoyed.

I went to the store and bought the ingredients, all the while wondering if I could do this on my own. All the while missing my grandma, wishing for one more Christmas to make this candy with her.

Today I took time to deliver some yummies and clean the house, and when everything was done, I pulled out my recipe, looked at Mary's writing, and saw my grandma's face. I could do this, but did I want to? Did I really want to do this by myself? I tucked the recipe back into my cookbook and did other things.

When the doorbell rang, I was surprised. When I opened the door, our neighbor stood with a container in her hands. "Mom made this for your family. It's homemade candies."

The box was filled with a variety goodies. I wasn't sure what they all were, but on top was unmistakable treasure, the divine kind that only God can deliver, the kind that comes in the form of white fluffy divinity.

People ask me how I hear God speak, how He communicates His love for me. Sometimes He speaks in a voice I've come to know. Sometimes He speaks through His written Word. And sometimes, like today, He does it with divine divinity.

Copyright 2009 Jerri Phillips

The Gifts of Jesus

2009-12-25T05:41:00.005-06:00

If I could give you all a gift today, I would give you Christ, not as you probably know Him, but as the passionate pursuer of you, His Beloved.

I would give you Christ the Healer who desires to heal your body, mind, and spirit, who isn't afraid of your hurts or the anger and hopelessness that may go with them.

I would give you a Counselor who can help you move beyond all boundaries and prisons, preconceived ideas, small-minded lies spoken by small-minded and small-faithed people, and fear so you can live in the wildness of who He is, into the wildness of who you were created to be in Him.

I would give you the Savior who can take everything you've ever done and rip its weight from you and let you fly in Him.

I would give you the Friend who is too good to be true, the one that never leaves, the one that always understands, the one who is never afraid of being real, and who only speaks the Truth--loving, uplifting, life-giving. The one who never has alterior motives, but always leads you back where you need to go, to the real you, to the real God.

I would give you the Jesus that values you more than you value yourself, the one that knows how special you really are, the one who embraces your strengths...and weaknesses, and sees unfathomable potential in you.

I would give you the Jesus that right now is calling your name with arms open wide, hodling out all of these gifts and more, and I would give you the courage to believe everything He promises you.

In fact, I offer Him to you now.

If you have never accepted Jesus as your Savior or if there is some other aspect of Him I have described that you do not know, His gifts are only a prayer away. He is no respecter of persons, and He never turns away someone who seeks Him. All you need do is ask.

Salvation is not complicated. To receive Jesus as your Savior, you need to confess that you are a sinner, that you believe He died to save you from those sins, and that you want Him to forgive you for them. Ask Him to be all He wants to be in your life. He wants to be all I've listed and more.

If you are saved but don't know Jesus as a Counselor, Healer, Lover, Friend, or a myriad of other facets of His identity, ask Him to reveal Himself to you as such. Ask Him to open your eyes to see Him that way. If you are like me, you may need to ask Him to free you from beliefs the prevent you from seeing Him in all His fullness. He will. He is excited to share Himself with you. I have found we underestimate His passion for us far more than we overstate it.

And maybe you need the gift of seeing yourself as He sees you. If so, that is available for the asking, too. Again, you may need to ask for the courage to believe what He says and to embrace it so you can live in the Truth of you. He will give you that gift as well.

If you have questions or have accepted Jesus as your Savior and want more information, please contact me via my profile. You'll find my email there, or post a comment here. Nothing shows up without my approval, so if you want to comment with your contact information but not have it public, just let me know.

Merry Christmas, dear ones! May you find the greatest gifts of all in the only One who can give you everything you need!

Right Now

2009-12-24T11:55:00.003-06:00

Tomorrow is Christmas Day. Promises of desired goodies will be piled high under the tree. The aroma of turkey, ham, and the fixin's will fill the house. Laughter and squeals of joy will ring through the rooms. It's going to be a wonderful day...tomorrow.

Right now, the floors need swept and mopped. The bathroom counter needs wiped down, and the mirror needs the smudges removed. Papers and magazines need to find homes, either in baskets or the recycle bin. Ingredients sit on the table waiting to be made into something mouthwatering. And, as usual, a few gifts remain in need of wrapping. Yes, I still have a to do list...right now.

But tomorrow... Tomorrow the waiting is over. Dreams come to life. Fulfillment pours from boxes, and rejoicing is abundant.

Tomorrow...dishes will fill the sink...and sit stacked on the counter. The refrigerator will have to be rearranged to hold the leftovers we don't want to spoil. Ripped wrapping paper and boxes will lie like carnage in heaps around the room. Recycle bins will overflow.

But right now those things don't matter. They are easily hidden in the shadow of the promised joy seen in the eyes of those I love and in the boxes under the tree. Right now I am lost in the promises of tomorrow, escaping the dreary demands of today.

And in the dreaming of tomorrow, it is easy to miss the blessings of Right Now.

Right now my daughter is laughing while she helps her dad wrap presents. My son is playing with his new Lego set he received in the mail today. The sky is dropping fat snow flakes.

Right now Anna is twelve and loves to cook with me. Robert is nine and wants all of us to play. Games are waiting to be played. Pieces of wood are ready to try a new form of art. Cocoa is ready to be enjoyed, and we have plans to watch a movie curled up together.

Right now I am sitting in my warm home, with my warm socks, and my hot coffee. Light streams through the window, and when I look out, I see the sky filled with clouds pregnant with enough snow to cover the ground. This is no small thing in Texas.

Right now the world is a wondrous place filled with God's blessings. I am overwhelmed with His goodness and gifts. My imperfect life with all its demands and needs abounds with fulfilled promises and evidence of His love. In this moment, I have all I need, and that is enough, and I choose to enjoy it...Right Now.

Copyright 2009 Jerri Phillips

The Reason

2009-12-24T08:26:00.005-06:00

Good morning, LORD.
Right now, it is quiet in the house. The light is peaking over the neighbor's fence into the backyard, and the lights are glowing softly on the tree. Before long, the family will be up moving. Breakfast smells will seep from the kitchen, and the busy day of preparing for guests and gifts will begin. Right now, though, there are only the two of us.

In the quiet, I stop to ponder. It is so easy to let the "Reason" get avalanched under the "season". I've done a lot of "seasoning" this year, and I don't want the real stuff, the good stuff, the life-altering stuff to get buried or missed. So I'm getting still, pondering what is in my heart, pondering the Gift and the Giver, knowing to celebrate the Gift is not to merely see a babe in a manger or a Messiah on a cross, but to see, know, and embrace the daily presence of a GOD of love whose passion refuses to keep Him aloof or on a throne but compels Him to wildly pursue those He loves.

This is what I ponder now. The gift of pursuit. The gift of being found.

Growing up, I knew about the babe in the manger. Later, I understood the power of the Messiah on the cross. With tender healing, soft touch, and loving words, you showed me the heart of a Father. A few years ago you begin to reveal to me the passion of a Lover. Each new facet you revealed left me overwhelmed with you, overcome by the reality of a God madly in love with mere humans. Beyond my wildest dreams was a God who cared more about the details of my life than I did, who was far more realistic about my imperfections than I am but saw far more potential than I ever dreamed, and believed I could do the impossible because He wanted to do it through me. This God pursued me.

Even now such Truth takes my breath away. Such amazing beautiful gifts.

As always, you are the Giver. As always, you are the Gift.

This year you gave again. You gave me a gift I wasn't sure existed. I wasn't sure it could exist between an imperfect human and a perfect God. You stepped down from your throne and sat on my couch, and you became my Friend.

You have talked to me intimately. You have shared your heart in ways I never dreamed you would. We have sat together and watched the sun rise while you painted the sky for me to enjoy. You shared lovely morning concerts as we sat on my deck and listened to the birds serenade you. You opened your heart to me as we talked about people you love, how you want to bless them, healing you want to do, and then you asked I would use my authority you've given me to declare into my realm, to bring heaven to earth.

My realm. The place you opened your arms to and said, "I need you to govern here and do my bidding. I need you to be me where those whose spiritual eyes aren't opened see me in the form of you."

So many times you've placed pieces of heaven into my hands and said, "I need you to deliver this into your realm."

In an ICU room while monitors beeped and life was freed from his clay vessel, you sat with us. You allowed me to see you so clearly there. It was a side of you I had never seen. A side I hope I never forget. So patient. So understanding. So focused on the one you were taking home.

When my heart hurt more than I ever imagined it could without exploding in my chest, you were right with me. When I screamed, you never flinched. When I cried, you caught every tear in your hand. Sometimes you spoke. Sometimes you sat quietly. Always you were there.

As I knelt on my knees searching for seedlings breaking through the ground, you were on your knees, peering at the ground with me, and at the hint of life, you got excited, too. And I loved how you wondered at the blossoms on the plants you created. Maybe "wondered" isn't the right word, but "enjoy" is really too small of a word. It was a pleasure that settled down deep inside you. I had never seen pleasure like that. Maybe next year, you can give me that gift, too?

And the morning glories! They exploded their praise to you, and you walked by, gently brushing your hand over them, as if to tell them they had done well, that they had given you a beautiful gift, and that you were pleased.

Oh, and do you remember the one lone sunflower that couldn't take its eyes off you but followed you from morning till dark? I loved that flower. I know. You did, too.

Even when I am "ugly" and struggling with attitudes or temptations, you are right there. "Talk to me. Why is this a temptation for you? What do you feel you are missing? Where do you feel I've failed you or didn't keep my promise? I want to lay this out in the open because I love you to much to let you think I would ever lie to you or not be all I promised to be. I want you to know I am wholly your Provider and your King. I want you to realize I'm not afraid of imperfections. I will not abandon you. When the enemy comes at you, I'm right with you, and we'll tear apart his strategy, understand why has worked in the past, and fix the broken area that allowed his access by filling it with Truth. I'm not 'skeered, Jerri. I'm in. For everything. Everyday. I'm your Friend. Talk to me."

These are the things I ponder. These are the things that humble me and bring tears to my eyes.

My heart is overwhelmed with you.

I am overwhelmed by how completely tangible you are, how clearly I see you now, and how loud your quiet whisper is.

I'm still trying to grasp how completely fascinated you are with me. You love taking things that most people dismiss as minutea, and you make it wondrous simply because you care about it. You get to excited when I find a gift you've given me. You love to surprise me. You get giddy with excitement when we share a joke or I find one of your "just between us" gifts. And I am amazed at how childlike is the God of the universe.

You fascinate me.

In Song of Songs, it says, "You have stolen my heart, oh beautiful one. You have stolen my heart." Words you spoke to me a month ago, wrap around me, opening my eyes to see you more clearly, to see me through your eyes.

You have utterly swept me off my feet. You have stolen my heart, oh beautiful one. You have stolen my heart.

You are more than an almighty GOD or a Messiah raised to glory. You are my Friend that I can't wait to see every day. The one I can't wait to share my life with, the one whose heart I want to know intimately. You are the one who takes me beyond my dreams into a love that consumes you...or perhaps you are the love that consumes me.

Right now, the house is coming alive. Children are now moving around. Murmurings of empty stomachs are coming my way. Feet are heard on the hard wood floors, and anticipation for the season's climax fills the air.

In twenty-four hours the empty area under the tree will be filled with brightly covered packages spilling into the room around it. In thirty-six hours, the mayhem of ripped paper, empty boxes, and stuffed bellies will be over. Travelling family will have gone home. The first wave of dishes will be drying in the dishwasher. The recycle bins will be overflowing, and hopefully, the children will still love their toys then.

And when the house has gone silent, you and I will sit, lights glowing softly from a tree soon to go back in the attic. Maybe we'll talk. Maybe we won't, but we will be together...friends and more...both of us the gifts...both of us the givers...our hearts wide open...fascinated and consumed...such is the wonder of the Reason...every single day.

Copyright 2009 Jerri Phillips

Lovely Gifts

2009-12-03T07:51:00.002-06:00

This morning I walked through my home in the early morning light and found myself wrapped in the joy of loving my life.

The fact is, I love my life.

I love the race car track spread out in the sunroom floor.
I love Anna's "I'm reading that" books liking here and there. Four in all right now.
I love the sleeping bags rolled up nicely and sitting misplaced in my bedroom floor, knowing on any given night, for reasons I may never know, my youngest will wander in, unroll one, and find peaceful rest sleeping on it on my side of the bed.
I love Robert's stained and wrinkled memory verse paper lying crinkled on the table beside the recliner where we learn the scriptures together.
I love pens, pencils, and crayons waiting for their next creative adventure. I wonder if they ever considered waiting in the tubs with the rest of the pens, pencils, and crayons. But then, what is the fun in being like everyone else, right?
I love Robert's waking up really early to see Rob off to work and then falling asleep in my lap in the recliner, where I leave him while I type in a few words of thought or sit a bit at Jesus' feet. Sometimes I just stay in the reclner, peaceful nine-year old spread across me, in wonder of how much his act of love reveals God's love for me.
I love the sound of our Millie-Mix snoring on the couch close to us. An abandoned dog tagged for destruction, rescued, loved, restored. In so many ways, I can identify.
I love the unmade bed where Rob and I spent a few moments this morning whispering in the dark, warm and content--and then the alarm went off....again.
I love the smile of remembering...
I love Bibles stacked in different parts of the house. Different versions. Different study notes. All used at different times.
I love the huge Christmas tree standing in the living room with its decades of ornaments...each one a piece of our history, a symbol of what has made our present...and the stories...the smiles...the sneaky tears that come with memories of those rejoicing in the wonder of Christmas every day...at Home.
I love the sun spilling through the windows, the creative remodel design bringing sunlight where darkness used to be.
I love coats waiting to keep us warm, mittens to protect precious hands, and scarves...a gift from Gran.
This morning I even love the two piles of laundry sitting in the living room waiting to be folded...and now ironed.
I love the Kleenex boxes, not put in away in tidy cubbies, but sitting out ready to render aid during this season of sniffly noses and too common sneezes.

Funny how things on a driven day--the day when I'm drowning in my to do list or the day when I'm concerned not so much about the people who live in this house but about what those outside think of it--funny how on those days, a book on a table instead of a shelf, a toy in the floor and not in a bedroom, or a child who is more concerned with how to love than how things look can be such nerve fraying burdens. However, there are times when wisdom whispers louder than the cacophony of life's uninterested demands, and I stop and ask, "Lord, what do you love?" When I listen closely, I find He loves the same things I do.

In that moment, I love my life all over again.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2009

Grief

2009-11-23T13:34:00.000-06:00

I started this nearly a month ago. However, due to the many activities and illnesses--not to mention a loss of words--it has not been finished. Tonight as I read over it again, precious people I love who are grieving a variety of losses due to death are on my mind. With a desire to help, I offer this:

In the pre-dawn hours of Wednesday morning, our family was called in to say goodbye as my uncle slipped from this world of broken bodies into the eternal one with perfected souls. Family and friends gathered to grieve and celebrate the life and love we experienced while we were blessed with his presence. Surrounded by people who loved him, he left us to be with Jesus.

Who could blame him?

Mortal bodies are broken things. They break down, and we patch them up. They are not meant to last forever, and eventually, they are beyond all of our abilities to mend. Sometimes the effort of living with the brokenness is tolerable, and sometimes...well, at some point, it is easier to simply let it go.

It was time to let it go. Time for him to let go of fighting to hold onto this temporary place, and for us to let go of him.

I'm not going to tell you the world is a darker place. It isn't. In fact, it is still a world filled with possibility. While the Lord led my uncle home, He introduced two new bundles of promise to our mortal reality. Two more answers to prayer. Two more answers to the world's problems. Two more lights to shine in the darkness. It's not a darker place, but for several of us, it is a sadder one.

I don't know when the sadness will pass. My dad has been gone over six years, and sometimes I'm still sad. Sometimes tears still find their way down my cheeks. It is because of this that I lift up my cousins to the Lord. Their grief is so deep today. Their hearts so raw. But then, why wouldn't they be? They each left a chunk of their hearts in a coffin at a cemetery today. Open heart surgery of the most unwelcome kind.

I try to think of what to tell them. Having walked this road before them, what road map can I offer? I look in all the nooks and crannies of my psyche...of my still falling tears...and I find so little. I pick up the parts I keep tripping over and hold them out hoping they offer some form of wisdom.

Grieve deeply. It's okay. It is not weakness to grieve. It is not faithless or hopeless or failure. It is what comes when our arms are forced to release what our hearts hold dear.

Laugh boisterously. Don't just laugh. Laugh with your whole body, your whole mind, your whole heart. It is okay to be joyful again, and to remember and be joyful gives great honor to the one you love.

Celebrate what they were...and what they weren't. When our friend David passed on, we were all thirty-three years old with small children. Instead of grieving his death, I chose to celebrate his life. He taught science, so my children and I either visited the science museum or did experiments at home. He loved music, so we sang loudly. His favorite thing was his family. We had a big family night with special food, a special movie, or a special game. We celebrated David.

When my dad passed on, my heart was shattered by the empty places left by the dad he wasn't. For a long time, I was angry, and I asked God, "How are you going to redeem this? How are you going to heal this? How are you going to restore this?" He redeemed it by putting in my heart the idea to be the parent I wanted my dad to be. I sat down and made a list of things I wished my dad had done, and I did them with my children. Sometimes I made check lists to be sure I covered everything. Did I read to them? Did I play with them? Did we snuggle? Did I pray over them? Did I speak something positive into them? This was my daily check list, and on my dad's birthday, I did special things that fell into the realm of things he never had time to do.

My questions about healing and restoration brings me to the next thing--be willing to let God fill the gaps. I never expected God to heal and restore me by giving me another dad, but He did. My dad had been gone a little over two years when my step-dad proposed to my mom. I liked my step-dad a lot, and it never bothered me that they were going to get married. I thought it was great for my mom. I had no idea what a powerful healing presence he would be for my mom, myself, and my brother. It leaves me in awe. The impact is that profound.

So don't be afraid to let God heal you. Wylie has never tried to take my dad's place. He's just himself, and I am proud to introduce him as my dad because he is. I've been blessed with two great dads, and I am thankful for them both. It's okay to let God do something new. It does not diminish the love for the person lost. It simply embraces the promise of something new.

Let God do a new thing. In Isaiah 43, the Lord says He is doing a new thing. He is making streams in the wastelands and water in the desert. Have the courage to do a new thing, to let God speak life and hope into your wasteland and desert. So often we prolong the grief or deepen it by looking back. For me, it was Mondays. My dad passed on a Monday, and every Monday sent me into a tizzy. One day I told our friend Chris that Dad had been gone nine weeks, and Chris asked, "And why are we counting this?" I had no idea. It brought no honor to my dad. It only swallowed my day in a sense of loss. Why do that? So I quit. I allowed God to make a new Monday routine, and I moved on.

I think for people who have been care givers it can be intensely hard to find a new normal. It is hard to go from being a necessity to not being needed. Except, you aren't "not needed." You are still here because you are still a solution and someone still needs you. Find a new way to be useful. I'll give you a little tip: Shopping may be a good escape, but it isn't feeding your need to be useful, so you won't feel any better $20,000 of debt later than you do right now. However, dropping off a meal, reading to children, just visiting someone that appreciates you is good therapy.

Of course, the reality is no matter how much you "bounce back" there are going to be hard days. Roll with them. There will be things that blindside you. Don't fight it but don't wallow in it. The first Christmas I was married, my dad wanted a red lumberjack shirt. I looked everywhere but didn't find one. The first Christmas he was gone, I was shopping in a store, had stuff in my cart, looked up, and in the middle of the aisle was a whole round rack of red lumberjack shirts. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. A wave of emotion slammed me. I grabbed my purse and headed for the car--cart still sitting with stuff in it in the middle of the aisle. I jerked the door of my van closed just in time to fall apart. I held onto the steering wheel and sobbed until all the sobs were done. I went home and took a nap. Later, I went back to that store, bought what I needed, walked by the red lumberjack shirts, and didn't feel any reaction at all. It really was okay.

I don't think there is one way to grieve. In my journal, I wrote, "While loss is personal, it is universal. Grief is as generic as aspirin and as individual as the person taking it." While no one can tell us the specifics of the right way to grieve, I think there are general things we can do along the way to keep from hindering the process. For what it is worth, these are a few of the things I found worked for me. Maybe they'll bless someone else, too.

Gratitude 27--Everyday Extraordinary

2009-11-22T23:55:00.000-06:00

Moments when I whisper, "Thank you, Lord," that bring a smile to my face and joy to my heart...moments when appreciate is real and deep...moments when I am intoxicated with joy or relief. Slipping past at the speed of life...appearing suddenly...disappearing subtly...in my own silence...

Lord, today, I choose to hold on to the extraordinary in the everyday...to You showing wondrously showing Yourself in the mundane...

And I grasp...

676. Veins and arteries with blood and ink coursing through the legs of my dad
677. A surprised doctor trying to explain the difference between a sonogram spotted with blockage and a scope that finds nothing
678. A little boy, wondrous, laughing, asking to be tickled...again
679. 30 purple scarves for 30 women whose lives are wrapped up in Whose they are to be, not what they are to do

680. Conversations I never want to forget
Me to Son: You are acting like a dorkoid.
Son laughing: Mom, that is what boys are supposed to do.
Me feigning dismay: Oh! Here I thought I had you so you could do dishes and the laundry, but really, your whole purpose is to be a dorkoid?
Son with eyes twinkling, laughter about to explode: Uh, yeah. Sorry for the confusion.

681. Quiet in the house
6582. A day for hubby to resettle and relax
683. Bare feet on a wooden floor, so much for quiet mice. :-)
684. Good books to get to know
685. Warm blankets
686. Chilly nights
687. Cups of warm coziness
688. Hoody jackets

689. A wonderful brother, celebrating the masterpiece he is
690. An amazing homeschool co-op
691. Encouraging emails that settle deep in my heart
692. A husband who can drive our family safely to appointments when I am too dizzy to drive
693. Negative flu tests
694. Four young ladies who make photography so much fun
695. Two drama students who do not let missing cast members stop the show
696. Sister who sleeps in Little Brother's room when he needs company
697. Crushed ice
698. Early bedtimes
699. Fans for white noise
700. People with compassionate hearts who pray for strangers in need
701. High school students that add a punctuation of joy to my Fridays
702. Gifts that remind me of friends far away.
703. Rechargable batteries

Even on Days Like Today

2009-11-19T18:57:00.003-06:00

God is good. And I know it. Even on days like today.

Today is a hard day. Actually, I've had a serious of tiring days, which is why I have been gone so long.

About five weeks ago I had to go into the doctor because I had symptoms of the flu. Thankfully, it was a sinus infection. The head got better just in time for me to have a reaction to the antibiotic. Got past that in time for my youngest to get sick, and when he doesn't sleep well, I don't sleep well. Got us mostly well, and my uncle passed on. I don't know if it was really unexpected, but despite what anyone says, there really is no way to prepare yourself for it. The next weekend was the fabulous Keeper of the Flame Proverbs 31 conference. I missed Friday because my husband was so ill. That was two weeks ago. My husband went to the doctor today. Whatever he had is now an infection. And of course in the midst of this are the everyday things of laundry, groceries, homeschool, and other commitments.

All of that flowed right into today.

Today started rough.

I woke up at 5:00 a.m. with a horrendous earache. Finally got the pressure relieved and lay down to doze about 7:00. Woke up to find out my mom had called. Her brother was in emergency surgery following a heart attack last night. The next 24 hours are critical.

My son has not had the best day. Barometric pressure changes knock him for a loop, and the rest of us are along for the ride.

Realized someone I love is not adjusting to some major life changes very well. That was hard to see.

And my family is packing for an impromptu, but very necessary, trip to my in-laws over the weekend. Due to previous commitments, I won't be going, but I might as well be. I am still getting everyone ready to go, and of course, there are all the last minute things like realizing our two suitcases are broken and the children's small suit cases are...small. Errands to run. Laundry to wash, dry, and fold. Last minute shopping to do. And then, I found out my dad's wonderfully affection and fun dachshund was run over and killed. My heart breaks for my dad, who is so very saddened by his loss.

And if I may be honest, I am so tired. My head hurts so much from the tension in my shoulders and neck that I feel like I could cry, but I won't because if I did, it would only hurt worse.

Yeah, a hard day. And now I'm crying.

Still, God is good. He still loves me. He is right with me. He hurts for the people for whom I hurt.

He holds my dad's hand and sits beside him whispering words of comfort, touching his chest gently.

He listens to my cousin grieve for her dad and sees her hurting heart instead of listening to her hurtful words.

He has his arm around my aunt sitting in the ICU waiting room asking Him to let her husband live.

He rides the mood waves with Robert and thinks he is still phenomenally amazing, and He still find great joy in His this fabulously creative creation of His. I wonder when Robert makes something new, if God says, "Yeah, he gets that from me." A pretty neat thought actually.

And when Anna makes clay beads and spends hours meticulously mixing clay and decorating them so they look exactly alike, does He see His own perfect hand working in hers and through hers? Does He stand behind her, His hand wrapped around, disappearing into hers? How much joy does He get from such pleasure of being part of her and her being part of Him?

And on days like today, when I pick up my computer and decide I will not let Satan steal this day--the day when my Lover chooses not to condemn my weakness but to show His strength--do His hands rest on mine as mine wander across the keyboard? Does He whisper these words I write? Is He reading over my shoulder? A smile on His beautiful face? And how excited is He that in all these things I see Him and am insanely, excitedly aware of Him?

How much joy does it give Him for me to find such great joy in Him...even on days like today?

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2009

Gratitude 26--Normal, Everyday Gratitude

2009-11-02T07:22:00.003-06:00

Last week, my uncle, Lanny Ray Kelley, passed on to be with Jesus. I spent several days doing whatever my cousin needed. Today I am home, and it's just a normal, everyday day. I'm thankful.

Thank you, God for...
651. being home with my children today.
652. a great night's sleep.
653. the ability to turn the ringer off the phone.
654. amazing weather.
655. little boys still happy to snuggle.
656. an absolutely fabulous husband.
657. your Word that is new every morning and ready to face whatever we do.
658. loving me so mindboggling much that with each new adventure, I see a new side of it, feel it fresh all over again, and fall even more madly in love with You than I've ever been.
659. laundry in need of washing.
660. a counter piled high.
661. trash out on the curb just in time.
662. clean dishes in the washer.
663. lessons waiting to be learned.
664. a sunroom filled with the evidence of fun had by two loving siblings.
665. friends who understand that really what I need is NOT to talk.
666. morning coffee.
667. quiet time.
668. warm socks.
669. routine.
670. having nowhere to go today.
671. growing girl still snuggled warmly in her bed.
672. cereal and cold milk eaten at my table with my children.
673. a Fluff-a-poodle lying on my feet
674. quiet.
675. a smile on my face.

Still

2009-10-26T15:22:00.003-05:00

Today's List:
Catch up on school not done last week when Boy Child and I were ill
Finish the laundry
Wash the comforters and blankets since Rob is reacting to the dog dander on it
Make tomato basil soup
Clean up the yard where a dog helped itself to trash last night (not on the original list)
Read and critique three chapters for my friend
Coffee tonight (yeah!)
Upload my pictures for the 1000 Gifts blog I plan on posting today
Walk the dog

Busy day, but a good day.

Then...

...the phone rings.

A strained voice. Tears trying not to fall. "Dad is in the ER. We had to transport him by ambulance..."

The list of issues is not good.

"Do you need me there?"

I'm already walking to the bedroom to find clothes and making plans to adjust plans.

"No, not yet. Let me find out what is happening first. They don't have a room number for him yet. I'll call..."

I hang up and...
...make phone calls asking for prayer.
...post the information on our Facebook pages.
...let Rob know what is happening.
...wonder what else needs to be done.
...make mental contingency plans.
...let key people know about the possibility of needing to make major changes to the week's plans.

The children ask me questions. My answers are sharp. I am apologetic. They are forgiving. Such grace.

But I know, I am not useful this way. I am not the peace needed. I am in need.

An invitation comes.

"Be still and know that I am God."

How easy to dismiss wisdom's invitation in favor of pride's determination to push through, to be strong, to overcome. The words are devoid of real meaning in our world which hears, "Sit down and read your Bible or pray."

But the promise resounds in the hardness of life.

"What is bothering you? What desires to intimidate you? What stands against you? Be still. Rest. Let it go. Know I AM God. See me handle the problem. See me work mightily on your behalf. Know I am bigger than this and will use it for your good. Don't fear. It is not bigger than me. Be still and know I am God."

I hold out my hands, full of to do lists and concerns, and empty them into His. He is capable.

I am still.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2009

The "S" Word

2009-10-22T18:49:00.002-05:00

She used the word "selfish".

Her friend called it "stupid".

I said it was "sad".

The police called it "suicide".

Even in the early afternoon sun, the flashing red and blue lit up the parking lot. The helicopter added the punctuation mark screaming something horrible had happened.

"Horrible" hardly touches the reality.

Two lives blasted into eternity.
First hers. Then his.
Two shots.
Dozens of witnesses.
A million questions.

The general explanation--divorce.
The real cause--A person with more pain than he believed could heal. A person with no where to take his anger, his pain, his hopelessness, so they took him.

And families and friends will try to make sense of this incredibly heartbreaking act. An ocean of opinions will flood forth. Facts mixed with fiction, and none will make a difference.

Quietly, some who knew--and did not know--this couple will slip to their knees. Tears will fall. Prayers will be lifted. Grief-stricken hearts and compassionate souls will cry out because they know all that will ever make a difference...all that would have made a difference this time...

...a Savior.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2009

Bigger Than We Realized

2009-10-21T11:17:00.001-05:00

When we joined the group, we saw it as a great opportunity for our son. He would meet friends, do something he loved, and grow in a variety of ways. We had visions of laughter and good memories, long-time friendships, and family bonding through supporting his adventure. We had prayed, and we had faith that this was of God, so we jumped in with both feet expecting the work of our hands to be blessed.

...Except it didn't work...

Not the way we thought it would, not the way we had in mind.

In fact, it has not really been what we thought it would be at all. The group lacks the order we think it should have. The people are not...as...easy to get along with as we expected. The leader seems to be struggling. I could go on. Believe me, we have a laundry list of things that are not to our liking, and if we had known what this was going to be like, we would not have joined.

...Except we had prayed...

...We all were sure God wanted us to participate...

...And God knew exactly what it was going to be...

In Proverbs 16:9 we are told man plans his course, but God determines the steps. In other words, we have the general idea, but God has the specifics. We see a destination, and God knows exactly how to get there.

For us, we wanted our son to grow, to develop character, to learn to work on a team. So did God. He just had different steps to getting there, steps I would not have chosen. Maybe that is why He didn't share that part.

However, now we are in the middle of it all, and in view of our plans and goals, we are pretty disillusioned. We are not seeing the blessings and prosperity we expected. To be quite blunt, we are miserable, confused, and ready to bail.

But above the clatter of my grumbling, I hear a soft voice, a voice tender with love. "How do you think the leader feels?" And in a second I am transported to the many times I have had a vision to build something bigger than me, to bless others, to offer opportunity for others' growth, only to find the road harder than I expected and support lacking. Again voices of fair-weather supporters hoping to capitalize on the success of the vision ring in my ears. Words filled with grumbling, fault-finding, and discouragement...ones that sound too much like mine as of late.

I am still, and my grumbling is silenced. He whispers on.

"How will these young people learn to be a team if no one teaches them? How will they survive with no one to speak life? How will MY son grow character if he never faces a mountain? Great leaders are not made in the quiet places of life but in face of obstacles. I have called him by name, 'One who overcomes all obstacles.' I have called him for such a time as this. He can be a great leader because he has parents with great vision and great faith. Did you not have faith I called you to this? Faith for great things. Faith for growth. Faith for steps of destiny?"

I nod silently...humbly...

Faith that we have something of value to give...that God can use us despite our lack and need to meet others' needs by showing Himself through us.

Faith that in leading us in our destinies He is speaking into others' destinies as well.

Faith that the greatest blessing is to be used by an amazing God to do amazing things in everyday life.

His voice grows even quieter.

"All that matters is faith expressing itself through love.*"

Love for difficult people.
Love for a leader who is trying and has a good heart and a big vision.
Love for God who has chosen us to be His ambassador in this situation.

Love--the act of seeing a situation, not as a means of getting what we want or lack, but as a chance to give what we have...a chance to reveal Him...a chance to see ourselves as He sees us...purposed, equipped, overcomers, contributors...a chosen piece of the solution.

Grumblings silenced, I am in awe.
In awe of a God who lets me think such small thoughts so He can accomplish such great things.
In awe of love so great that it uses us even when we are unlovely.
In awe of a God who sees such large potential in a young boy.
In awe that He lets this self-focused broken vessel with such a tiny self-absorbed comfort zone be the mother of greatness in the making...only realizing in flashes that greatness is already made each time we step aside and let the Lord do what He desires. Body size is consumed in the powerful act of simple obedience.
Yes, I am in awe.

And I take this awe...with encouraged faith and refocused love...look at this little boy with destiny impacting power and say, "This is so much bigger than we realized. YOU are so much bigger than you realized," and pray for him to hold onto that identity, that Truth...and pray I do, too.

*scripture from Galatians 5:6

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2009

Gratitude 25--Choosing to Hear the TeNoR PLAy

2009-10-20T23:21:00.004-05:00

Years ago, I was memorizing parts of Philippians 4. When I reached the list of things to think on, I needed something to make them cohesive. I put them in a list:
True
Noble
Right
Pure
Lovely
Admirable

My boyfriend immediately came to mind. No, not because I was so madly in love that he was all of those things but because he played the tenor saxophone. See it yet?

True
e
Noble
o
Right

Pure
Lovely
Admirable
y

Today, that boyfriend is my husband of 18 years, and his saxophone sits in our garage. Most of the time, I think he is still really wonderful, but sometimes, on days like today, he hurts my feelings, not just a little but a lot, and it is easy to get bad and offended and hang on to that. It is easy to see the aggravating things he "always" does and to forget the good things he "never" does. Trust me, folks, I learned from the best on how to nurse a grudge. But the fact is, I don't want to nurse a grudge, and he doesn't "always" do those aggravating things, nor does he "never" do good things. But mentally knowing that and emotionally moving beyond it sadly are not always simultaneous actions. My emotions often need a bit of help.

That is when again the TeNoR PLAys.

True--He loves me and wants to be the perfect husband for me. Really, in his heart, he would never ever do anything to hurt me, and it hurts him when he knows he's hurt me or let me down in anyway.
Noble--He works so hard, and he doesn't complain. Even when he's tired, he does what needs to be done to take care of our family and meet our needs.
Right--He respects others and makes the effort to see their good points and their good intentions.
Pure--He isn't ego driven.
Lovely--He lights up when he sees us. He really enjoys being a husband and dad. He really enjoys us.
Admirable--When something is settled, it is settled. He never brings it up again.

He's all those things and more. Even on days like today, he's music to my ears, and I'm so thankful he's my husband.

Gratitude 24--An Act of Worship

2009-10-19T10:05:00.001-05:00

It has been a long time since I've sat down and chronicled the many blessings of God--too long. This past weekend found me under the weather with a sinus infection. I'm not the best patient in the world. In fact, being sick makes me gloomy and whiny. Thankfully, I have the perfect antidote--worship. Gratitude is the beginning of worship, and I invite you to join my worship.

Lord, you are so worthy of my worship. You are good beyond my wildest dreams. You pour out joyous, amazing things for me to enjoy so I can see you clearer and understand you better. Father, I adore you, and I am so grateful for how much you love me.

Thank you for:
1. Sunshine--warm to the face and good for the soul
2. Leanna Ellis books
3. Jim and Mary Eicher who pray fervently for my family
4. email to keep me in touch with those close to me
5. Bloggers that speak truth that lift my spirits while my body lies still to heal
6. Tomato basil soup
7. Clean water
8. Cooler weather
9. Tents for Daddy and Son to bond
10. New blossoms in the herb garden
11. Morning glories that are truly glorious wads of color open to praise you with their colorful trumpets
12. Phones that allow me to call my mom and see how they are
13. My great stepdad
14. Warm blankets
15. Electric blankets that keep camping menfolk warm on cold nights
16. Airmattresses
17. Cool washcloths
18. Antibiotics
19. Steroids
20. Warm socks
21. Jenny Brinton for reminding me that worship is the greatest weapon of warfare I have
22. Pets that lend love and are happy to lie close
23. State Fair
24. Coffee with friends
25. The book of Psalms
26. Cheerios--even the name makes me feel better
27. Smoked Cheddar Cheese burgers
28. Man of my Dreams who can cook
29. Grill
30. Little boys who read books to a tired and weary Mom
31. Friends who rejoice with me over the good stuff

Have stuff you are grateful for? Share it with the rest of us in the Gratitude Community. Follow the link below and enter your URL into the list on Ann Voskamp's page. While there, visit some of the others and rejoice with them, too.

Thank you for joining me in praising the King.

Note: The above list represents #621-#650 of my 1000 Gifts list.

Practical Warfare

2009-10-19T01:33:00.000-05:00

I often write about warfare being faith to stand in the truth no matter what the circumstances. Most of the time, people associate that with big things, like waiting for a job, wanting reconciliation in a relationship, return of a prodigal, healing. However, no victory is attained through one mighty act. Victory comes through a million actions that are done correctly with one goal in mind.

Let me explain this from a practical perspective.

I confess. I'm a lousy patient. When I'm sick, I'm whiny, and I want someone to take care of me. I don't want someone to drop in periodically. I want a nursemaid, hand and foot, beckon call. Yeah, I'm that needy.

Reality--I don't have anyone that fits that description.

What I have are friends who pray for me, call and check on me, fix meals when needed, and drop emails to say they love me. I have two children with hearts of gold who draw me pictures, get me drinks, read me stories in my bed, and close the door when I fall asleep. I have a husband who does his best to step into shoes that he is not used to, meet my needs, make sure I take my meds on time, feed the children, run the errands, keep the house, walk the dogs, and generally keep the ranch running.

A pretty good bunch, don't you think?

So here is my truth:
My friends love me and really will do all they can to help me.
My children want to help and will do what they can.
My husband tries to carry what he can so I can heal up.
I'm loved.
Folks are on my side.
God provides for my healing in a myriad of ways.

That is the truth.

While I have all those good things, I also have this voice that likes to whisper in my ear and say things like:

"Your husband really doesn't care or he would be in here rubbing your aching muscles. The children are in there making a mess in the bathroom for you to clean up when you are finally better, and they don't care that you are sick. In fact, they don't care that you are trying to sleep. If they did, they wouldn't be playing so loud. And what about that person you made roast for when her family had the flu? Has she even bothered to email and see how you feeling? No. Ungrateful. And why is that you can do all these things for everyone else, but no one can do anything for you when you feel lousy? And how come no else knows how to pick up clothes but you? Why can't anyone else put a stupid cup in the dishwasher for goodness sake? Do these people ever listen to you? Do they have any respect for you? If you just got in your car and left, do you think they would notice? No! And you know what? This sinus infection is turning into respiratory infections, ear problems, and hospital stays for people all over America, and now your immune system is shot, so you are more likely to get something worse, like the flu..."

And on and on the insanity goes.

This is the lie.

The lie says:
Those people I call friends, don't really care. If they did, they would do something. I don't know what, but something. They are just not trying hard enough. They don't value me. They don't care if I'm miserable.
Those children have lousy character, lousy hearts, and just stink.
My husband...well, we all know about him and how he hates doing anything for me, right? If he really loved me, he'd be more attentive. He'd be doing something. I don't know what exactly, but something! And since he's not doing it, he obviously doesn't care about me.
And that means this marriage that I have worked so hard for all this time is just not what I wanted. Other women have husbands that love them. If Rob were like them...
And God. Well, God didn't keep me from being sick with this, so what makes me think He'll keep me from being sick with something else or something worse?

Are you laughing? It is laughable. The insanity is laughable. And yet, it isn't.

When our minds are clear, we look at the above and think, "Great googly moogly! How did you make that kind of a stretch? That's nuts!"

But when I'm sick, tired, weary, lonely, wounded, or hurting, I hear those voices, and instead of calling them insane, I nod and say, "Yeah, that's right."

THAT, my friends, is where the warfare lies, and that is where victory is to be found.

Satan will whisper all kinds of lies, but we have to respond with the truth. When he says, "Your friends don't care about you," I have to say, "This friend has emailed three times today to see if I need anything. This friend offered to make me dinner. This friend is praying for me."

When he says, "Your children don't care," I have to say, "My daughter did dishes for me. My son read me a book. They made me pictures."

Whatever his lie, I have to respond with the truth. I cannot allow myself to agree with one single lie because if I agree, my mind becomes imprisoned in the lying way of thinking. Then no matter what my husband does, I put it through my broken filter.

For instance, my husband camped out with our son in the backyard one night while I was sick with a sinus infection. The truth is every sound hurt. However, Satan taunted me and said if Rob really cared about me, he would be with me, not having fun. See the lie: Rob loves fun, not me. If I allow myself to agree with that, everything Rob does will go through the filter of "he doesn't love me." That means when he makes me soup, it's because he has to, not because he loves me. When he makes supper, it's because he has to, not because he loves me. When he runs to get my medicine, it's because he made a promise that forces him to do it, not because he loves me.

Now look where I am. Not only am I sick with this raging sinus infection, but my husband doesn't love me and actually sees me as a burden and would be having fun without me!

And Satan rubs his hands with glee because he is one victory closer to dividing my family and leading us right into divorce court.

Crazy? That doesn't really happen? Don't think those little thoughts are that big of a deal? According to Proverbs 23:7, "As a man thinks in his heart, so is he (KJV)." In other words, if I allow myself to think on those lies and be in agreement with them, THAT is my reality, and I will see the world in accordance with those agreements, and I will live in defeat.

It is easy to look at big things and see the war raging. It is also easy to overlook the more subtle "fiery darts" that are launched at us daily through the subtlety of our thinking or long-time thought patterns. Instead of becoming fixated on the large areas of defeat in our lives, we need to stop and ask the Lord to reveal the small areas of defeat that led to the larger crises. We have to allow Him to show us the lies with which we agree so we can hear and speak the truth that sets us free.

It's amazing how quickly the battle turns when we quit aiding the enemy by supporting their cause.

Praying for you to victoriously stand against the enemy in the Truth of His Word...

Keepers of the Flame--Proverbs 31 Women's Retreat

2009-10-14T09:33:00.003-05:00

I will be speaking on the Proverbs 31 Woman, but don’t worry. This is not the woman we’ve all come to hate with her Mt. Everest size to do list, running on little sleep, and making all the other women look bad for not keeping up. Quite the contrary. This is the woman of hope who knows who she is is defined by Whose she is. Come join me for a message of hope and promise.—Jerri

Keepers of the Flame – Proverbs 31 Women's Retreat

A Prov. 31 woman is a Keeper of the Flame, who keeps the light going in her own life by trimming her wick, and being filled with the precious oil of the Spirit daily, warring and contending for her family to keep the fire lit for Christ through the Word and Love!

Progressive Retreat, intimate and unique!
Ages 16 and up
Sponsored by Lighthouse Intercessors

Nov. 6-7th, 2009
Friday--7:30 pm
Saturday 9:30 am – 4:30 pm

Come stir up the gift that lies within you...renew your first-love, rekindle your passion, restore your vision, refresh your soul, revive your HOPE!

Special Speakers:
Sandy Anthony, Karla Shrake, Rhonda Harkins, Nandra Sherman, Charlotte Posa, Jerri Phillips

Prophetic and Healing Ministry:
Lorie Shelley, Debra Narvarte, Debra Morel, On Hui Wallace, Beatrice Montes

Invite your friends and come expecting your first-love to be rekindled!

To register email your name and phone number to lighthouseintercessors@hotmail.com or call 817-454-4918

PROGRESSIVE RETREAT CREATIVE ITINERARY

Friday
4:00-5:30 pm--Throne Room Soaking Session–On Hui Wallace home*
6:00-7:00 pm--Fellowship and Dinner @ Billy’s Grill (own cost)
7:30-10:30 pm—Intimate Issues or Healing
11:00 pm--Fellowship/Sleep-over for WOMEN ONLY at:
Homes Open: Nandra Sherman, On Hui Wallace

Saturday
8:00-9:00 am–-Breakfast
Remainder of retreat@ On Hui Wallace’s home*
9:30-12:30--Proverbs 31 Woman or Marriage
12:30-1:30--Lunch Chinese or Billy’s Grill (own cost)
1:30-4:30—Throne Room Encounter and Teaching on Mantles & 7 Spirits of God
4:30-6:30--SPECIAL HEALING/PROPHETIC STATIONS OPEN TO ANYONE
(No Charge-Please sign up family members with Rhonda Harkins)

Recordings of prophecy and teaching sessions will be made available after retreat.
COST: $50 for early registration for retreat – includes gifts, materials, breakfast
$55 for registration after Oct. 31st or at the door

*On Hui Wallace – 1916 Annabel Ave., Flower Mound, TX 75028

Redeemed

2009-10-13T13:33:00.003-05:00

I've heard this word my whole life. However, understanding it can be hard because it isn't a concept known in our culture. Yesterday I was reading in Isaiah 43, Amplified version, and I found the perfect explanation:

Fear not, for I have redeemed you
[ransomed you by paying a price instead of leaing you captive];
I have called you by your name;
you are Mine.
(Isaiah 43:1)

The God who Makes the Promise, Keeps the Promise

2009-10-05T15:00:00.004-05:00

It was gone.

I knew it wasn't in the car or on the counter at home. I hadn't misplaced it. I hadn't overlooked it. It was gone.

Someone had stolen my wallet. My credit card, license, health card, check book...gone, and a tedious stretch of canceling everything lay ahead of me. I prayed that would be all.

I immediately went to customer service and gave my report to a manager. She explained they would talk to their security officer, run the tapes, and call me if they found anything. I called my husband, explained what happened, and asked that he come to the store.

I retrieved my children from the dressing rooms where they had been changing back into their clothes, and I went back to customer service to find out what actions were being taken.

A different manager, Harry, met me, listened to my story, explained the protocol, and went to find the security agent. While he did his part, I called my friend Debra.

"I need you to pray. Someone stole my wallet." I don't remember what she said, but it wasn't panicked. I told her, " I just keep hearing, 'Do you trust me?' And I do. I know things will be fine. I know this is a time of harvest and rejoicing. This is a time of increase, not decrease. The Lord did not promise depleted silos or stolen crops. He promised good things. This is just the enemy bluffing again, trying to be impressive, but God has the final word. The God who makes the promise, keeps the promise. I know this will be fine, but this stinks." She agreed it stinks. She also agreed this would be fine. She also agreed the God who makes the promise, keeps the promise.

Harry must have listened because he said prayer works, and God isn't intimidated. "God has done far harder things than return a wallet."

Don't I know it?

My mind thought back over my quiet time. The Lord had promised to meet Anna's clothes needs. He had said He would provide the jeans we had spent hours hunting. He promised all her needs would be met. He would not make promises of provision and then let things be stolen. It just isn't like Him.

Rob arrived and took the children to eat nearby. In the quiet waiting, I prayed.

I thanked the Lord for His faithfulness because He is always faithful. I thanked Him for Rob's calm reaction, Debra's ferocious faith, Harry's comforting presence, and I thanked Him for finding the wallet. It was a stretch, but I had two choices: believe the God who makes the promise keeps the promise or to let situations dictate my belief system. I choose to believe God can keep His promise, so I thanked Him.

Then my mind flashed to stories a friend who was a policeman told us, stories of shoplifters stealing medicine for sick babies, diapers, or formula for hungry children. Dear Lord, did this person need money to feed or care for a child? Why did they steal? Oh, God, meet their needs. Forgive them. Set them free from whatever makes them use this way to live. Lead them to you. They need you. They need you to save them and provide for them, and if there are children in need, do whatever you need to do to take care of those babies.

I stopped, surprised by own prayers, but sincere. I didn't know why these people stole. All I knew was they needed Jesus far more than I needed my wallet.

My phone rang with Debra's ring-tone. "I've been praying that whoever stole the wallet is only after cash, and they would throw the wallet away when they found no cash. Look in the trashcans and in the bathroom. Your wallet is still there, and everything is in it."

Satan talked loud and clear in my ear, "Do you know how unlikely that is? It would take a miracle. Miracles like that just don't happen."

My spirit spoke back. "But the God who makes the promise, keeps the promise."

Security came, got a list of where we had been, and went to pull the tape. I sat, waited, and wondered, How was God going to pull this off? I prayed, "Thank you for giving back my wallet intact. Thank you that this is going to be yet another testimony of your goodness and faithfulness."

Officer Coleman arrived. The report was made. We talked, and she went to see the tape. Rob and the children had returned, and Rob was going to use his credit card to pay for our merchandise. However, the whole reason we were shopping is because Anna needed jeans. Finding jeans for her is not an easy job. In fact, we both dread it, but we had actually found a pair, and despite the frustration of the wallet, we were rejoicing about the jeans. It only made sense to see if they had a few more pair to fit her, so off we went to the jeans.

Anna went ahead of us, and I tried to just relax. Then we heard Anna's voice ring out. "I found it! Mom, I found it!" Suddenly, she appeared...lime green wallet in hand. "I was praying as I came over here that God would help me find your wallet. I looked through clothes, saw a hint of green, and looked. There it was!"

I laughed and cried. The zipper was unzipped. The snap was undone. My credit card was there. My license was there. Everything was there. They had been looking for one thing--cash. They looked for the cash and then "threw it away," just like Debra prayed.

Yes, Harry, God has done far harder things than return a wallet, but today, it was miracle enough.

Then to add an exclamation mark to the whole situation, the jeans Anna found were on clearance, and we were thankful. Then the clerk rang them up-- 40 cents each. We all stared. She scanned it again. 40 cents. Three pair of new jeans $1.20.

Amazing.

But really, how could I expect anything less? After all, the God who makes the promise, keeps the promise.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2009

Exchanging the "To Do" List for the "To Love" Life

2009-10-04T19:06:00.008-05:00

I am spending my evening pondering Proverbs 31. You may wonder why I'm on the computer if I am pondering the Bible. I ponder better aloud, and while this isn't "aloud", at least this way my thoughts are not bottled up in my brain swishing back and forth and slamming into each other creating a mass of frenetic confusion.

Does that ever happen to you? Do you ever ponder until the simplicity of something becomes complex confusion which opens the door for frustration, and instead of leaving your quiet time blessed, you leave it convinced you can never be what God wants? That happens to me sometimes. In fact, it could happen this time, except I'm choosing to stop and study the mountain instead of just walking around it again.

As I see it, the mountain is this: this apparently impossibly perfect woman sits right in the middle of the Bible serving to be the bane of existence for women everywhere, but because she is a woman of excellence, a woman who draws forth blessings from others, a woman after God's heart per se, we are to be like her. In a nutshell, the mountain is our imperfection on the road to God's desired perfection.

We see her perfection and our lack thereof, and wham! An insurmountable mountain. Except, God never asks anything of us we cannot do. The one thing we could not do--be perfect enough to save ourselves--He made provision for. He's no dummy. If we are smart enough to know we can't be that perfect, so is He, and therefore, He had to have made provision for us to become this woman of biblical note. Either that, or we really don't understand the perfection He sees in her.

Honestly, I think it is both.

I am convinced no human being could accomplish all this woman does on her (or his, for that matter) own. No one could be that diverse, that sure of herself, that organized, that upbeat, that...everything in her humanness. A few weeks ago I posted on her core identity and where she gained wisdom, insight, and strategy.

It's more than that, though. It's not just that she knows how to do her to do list. I think it has to do with her understanding God's to do list. Jesus only gave us two "to do's"--Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength and love your neighbor as yourself.

So this is what I am pondering: how does one exchange a "to do" list for a "to love" life?

I confess I am not really sure, but when I look at the mountain of perfection through the lens of a "to love life", suddenly it doesn't look like an impossible feat of my climbing a sheer face all by myself, knowing I'm going to fall and look stupid multiple times. Instead, it looks like an exciting adventure filled with laughter, fun, and amazing memories, and I can't help but think others will look at it and realize it is the exact adventure they've been seeking, too.

Lord, I come to the cross and ask you to kill all preconceived ideas I have about being a perfect woman. I ask you to crucify all misconceptions about serving you and what you find important and valuable. I take up my cross--the cross that says I'm worth dying for and so are the ones around me. I take up my identity as desired, loved, totally forgiven, totally free, and totally yours. I ask you to crucify my "to do list" mentality and transform my mind to a "to love" life. Love through me. Bring life to others by loving them through me. Bring life to me by correcting me when I do not receive your love either from you directly or via blessings of others. Father, your Word says you are love. I choose to crucify a spotless house, empty sink, immaculate nails, performance in every way to please others. I choose to crucify all forms of activities that are born of fear of rejection and not out of love. I choose to crucify the lie-Jerri that thinks there is an absolute right and absolute wrong, the lie-Jerri that thinks things have to be a specific way or they are not acceptable. I choose to take up the Jerri loved as she is, the one you delight in, the one who knows people are more important than clean floors and hearts are more important than dusted shelves. I choose to put on the Jerri that is willing to take detours and side roads of all kinds to show love to people--including the ones in my own home--that you want to love and value. Father, I don't really understand the "to love" life, but I want to. I want to live it with abandon to everything else. And, Lord, if people don't understand, I'll know I'm in good company. Explode forth the "to love" life in me that you want me to live, that you want to live in and through me. I'm ready. I love you. Amen.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2009

Feasting on His Goodness--Part 2, Recipe for Celebration

2009-10-02T20:06:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I told you we made pumpkin bread and pumpkin creame cheese to begin our feast. I want to share these recipes with you. The pumpkin bread recipe came from Allrecipes.com, and I am unsure about the origin of the other recipe. I hope you enjoy.

Blessings and celebration for you and your family!

Downeast Maine Pumpkin Bread
Submitted by: Laurie Bennett
Prep Time: 15 minutes
Cook Time: 50 Minutes
Yields: 24 Servings

Ingredients:
1 (15 oz) can pumpkin puree
4 eggs
1 cup vegetable oil
2/3 cup water
3 cups white sugar
3 ½ cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 ½ teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
½ teaspoon ground clobes
¼ teaspoon ground ginger

Directions:
1. Preheat over to 350 degrees. Grease and flour three 7x3 inch loaf pans.
2. In a large bowl, mix together pumpkin puree, eggs, oil, water, and sugar until well-blended.
3. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger.
4. Stir the dry ingredients into the pumpkin mixture until just blended.
5. Pour into the prepared pans.
6. Bake for about 50 minutes in the preheated oven. Loaves are done when toothpick insterted in center comes out clean.

Pumpkin Cream Cheese

Ingredients:
2 8-ounce packages cream cheese, softened
1 cup canned pumpkin
1/3 cup sugar
1 ½ teaspoons pumpkin pie spce
1 teaspoon vanilla
Freshly grated nutmeg (optional)

Directions:
1. In a large mixing bowl beat cream cheese, pumpkin, sugar, pumpkin pie spiece, and vanilla with an electric mixer until smooth. Transfer to a bowl. Store tightly covered in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.
2. If desired, sprinkle with a little freshly grated nutmeg before giving as a gift. Makes about 3 cups spread.

Feasting on His Goodness--Part 1 Provision and Covering

2009-10-01T22:18:00.004-05:00

As some of you know, last October started an incredibly hard season for us. In the last year, I have had to stand with greater determination than I ever have. I've had to resolve to believe God's promises despite situations which presented extreme evidence to the contrary. I have had to be more real and more vulnerable than I ever dreamed necessary. I've hurt more deeply than I ever knew I could, and I have faced fears that I thought would bury me.

I have also seen God work in ways beyond my wildest imagination. I have been loved more deeply and been embraced more wholly than I ever dreamed. I have danced more wildly and with more passion and abandon than I ever imagined was within me, and I have stood up to fears, attacks, and doubts and been victorious in overcoming them. I have found depth of friendship that I thought was a fairytale, and I have come to know a God who is hilariously generous with all He gives, whose heart is to protect and shepherd, whose power is greater than all my foes, and whose love and passion for me is beyond my wildest imagination.

Even as I type this, my eyes fill with tears of amazement. It's more than gratitude, although I am grateful beyond words. It's an absolute amazement at finding more than a mighty God or a saving God. It's the wonder of intimately experiencing a God whose greatest desire is me. It is beyond anything human words could express when I gaze upon a God who can create a universe in six days and so clearly see His complete devotion to me. He waits for me to wake up in the morning. He whispers to me in my sleep, and He lavishes good things on me, and I am sure there is more He wants to give, but I have been too "humble"--faithfulness, insecure, doubting--to receive it.

I am undone.

It is with such absolute amazement that I approach the fall season of harvest and a time that in the past was so marked by pain and darkness.

In September, during my prayer time, the Lord spoke to me about October. For years October has been a month of dread for me. All the demonic freedom really is hard for me and has been difficult for my children. Two years ago, things started to change, and the Lord began to redeem October. This year He gave me a new word. He said, "October will be a time of harvest and rejoicing." I had to tell my friend Debra, who was just excited as I was, and we started practicing our happy dance.

A week or so after the Lord spoke to me, He spoke a powerful word to Debra and her husband Brian. He said they were to go on vacation, and it was specifically to be during Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles. He gave them a solid word about what He is doing in their lives and how it started with the beginning of Sukkot. Neither of us knew anything about Sukkot, but we quickly found out.

While that was happening at their house, the Lord was settling some issues at our house. In short, I really felt Rob, my husband, was to go to the men's retreat with our church. It wasn't on the calendar, but the more I prayed, the more I was convinced he was supposed to go. The Lord said clearly it would be a time for restoration of identities for the men who attended. My heart pounded. I knew Rob was supposed to go. Ultimately, he did, too, and he is going.

When Debra and I researched Sukkot, we laughed, cried, and shouted. Sukkot is the Feast of Tabernacles (or tents), the time to celebrate leaving Egypt and bondage (the place God finds all of us in our sin or oppression) and going into the Promised Land (their true identity). And, the first day of Sukkot happened to be the first day Brian and Rob will be at the men's retreat--the one where true identities will be restored!

Needless to say, we were ecstatic. Then we had another laugh. Debra and Brian had been planning this trip for months, but due to job transition, they were unsure about money, which God provided in an amazing way. The trip? Camping...in tents. God had already put it on their hearts to celebrate the transition from Egypt to the Promised Land, and they didn't even know what it meant.

I was laughing, too, because I had decided since Rob would be gone, I'd pack the children up, and we'd go camping. Instead of fighting the popup, I'd use a tent, too. We have several tents, so that would be no problem, except I felt we were to have a tent with two criteria--room and an open top so we could see the heavens. In my human mind, though, could I justify another tent, especially when we always use our popup camper? I wrestled with it, talked to Rob, and ultimately, went tent shopping, so we could camp...the first day of Sukkot.

I did preliminary shopping online. Nothing struck me. Last night we spent a lot of time driving from store to store. Nothing overwhelmed me. Well, one thing did. However, at $120 it was well out of our price range, the amount I felt the Lord okayed for us to spend. So we ended up coming home empty-handed. Still, Sukkot was less than 48 hours away, and despite my mind's efforts to justify and compromise, my spirit knew we were supposed to get a tent. I did all I knew to do. I prayed.

"Father, if you want us to have a tent, you'll provide. I know the number you gave me ($50), and I don't have peace to spend more. However, I don't know where else to look. I need your direction. Your Word says the steps of a righteous man are ordered by you. Guide our steps."

I finished praying, and honestly, I was expecting a store to come to mind. Instead, "Craigslist," hit like a billboard on the front of my skull. I typed it in. Then I typed "tent". I stared.

"Magellan Bryce Canyon Tent....$50." And, it was not in the general DFW Metroplex. It was in our city.

I prayed. Could this really be God? Could He really be telling us to buy another tent?

I emailed a reply saying we were interested and told when we could be there to pick it up. Then I waited...

However, I didn't wait idly. I waited with a feast of celebration, a feast declaring we believe this is a month of harvest and rejoicing. We started the celebration with a feast of pumpkin bread.

The entire family got involved with the mixing, baking, cleaning, and eating. Delicious! We also made some pumpkin cream cheese. The children love it, but it is a bit too sweet for Rob and me. Still, the most fun is the fact the recipe made enough for our family and some to share. Isn't that the great thing about harvest? It keeps right on giving?

Due to unexpected rain, our plans changed, and with them, the time we could pick up the tent changed, so I emailed again. No reply, but the listing was still up. Ultimately, though, I simply had to let it go. If it was of God, it would work out. If not, He would do something else.

Then this afternoon a reply. "I'll be home then. I live at....You can call me at...." I started to laugh, and tears filled my eyes. He lived around the corner from us. Seriously. Within ten minutes we had a verbal agreement for the tent. Within 20 minutes, it was in my van on the way to my house.

The entire top is open to the heavens, and it can be split into three rooms. The center height is 84 inches. It is huge for a tent. And, while we were there, he showed us how to put it up and gave far better direction than the instruction paper. Don't you love when God goes above and beyond your imagination?!

Such is the first day of October--our month of harvest, rejoicing, restoration of true identity. It is our celebrating moving from the heartbreak of slavery--mental, spiritual, and emotional--to the joy of the Promised Land. It is a festival and a feast, and we are joyously well-fed feasting on His goodness.

When

2009-09-26T13:26:00.010-05:00

Do you ever go to a family reunion or a potluck, and there is so much good stuff that you pick up a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Don't forget the mashed potatoes Aunt Betsy made that you have to eat so you don't offend her. Oh! There are those barbecue ribs Uncle Ralph says are the best ever. Have to have some of that. Then there is that chocolate pudding mousse thing that Sheryl only makes on special occasions. Can't pass that up. Who knows when you'll get a chance at that again?

By the time you finish adding all you want, all others say you should get, and all you get so no one is offended, your plate is overflowing, and the excitement you felt with your first glance has turned into a sense of dread as you look forward to the bloated stomach, tight belt, and indigestion later?

Crazy, isn't it?

The craziest part is the gratitude at the beginning of the meal has now because complaint. The food God gave to bless us is now seen as a curse. Why? Because we didn't know when to say when.

Today, my plate is full of blessings, but I feel the pull of temptation to load up a bit more. If I scoot this over and move this around, I can find room. It's all good. And, after all, what can a little bit more hurt, right?

Let's look at that "little bit more" that causes my head to turn and see what it can hurt.

My "little bit more" looks like a fiction book that I've had rolling around in my head for nearly two years. I worked on it a lot in 2008, but in 2009, it has gone by the way side. The fact is I haven't missed it much. I think of it periodically, but mostly, I'm busy with other things that I enjoy. In fact, I am completely happy without it until I see it on someone else's plate.

My friend Lisa Buffaloe shared the exciting news that her fiction book is headed to the publisher. I am truly thrilled. This is a book from God, and it is going to bless so many. My friend Amelia is moving forward with her book, and she has some interested eyes ogling it as well. I just finished reading Ruby's Slippers by Leanna Ellis, another friend. Understand. This is not about jealousy. These women are so gifted, and I rejoice that the Lord is blessing them and increasing them. It's just...I really like writing fiction, too.

Surely I could find time to work on a fiction book. Surely it couldn't be that hard to find the time, right?

Let's see. If I give up my Wednesday night fellowship time, that would buy me a few hours. If I gave up reading time with the children, I could get another 20-30 minutes a day. If I got up earlier, I could move my quiet time back. Probably won't remember it, but at least I'm doing it which means something will "stick in my spirit", so that's alright. Maybe instead of spending an hour and a half with my husband in the evenings I could only spend an hour. Wonder if I can figure out a way to spend less time on the co-op classes I teach, or maybe I could have the children do more workbook school and few projects and discussions for home school? Or, I could just give up cooking which would mean I didn't have to waste time doing dishes or going grocery shopping, and if I wear the same clothes three days in a row, that would cut down on the laundry, and if I...

...just lose my mind and don't care if I drive my family insane while cutting all my life lines to my support group...

It sounds absurd when I write it out, and most of us probably laughed at the craziness of it. However, every woman I know has had moments when she was tempted to add one more thing to an already full plate, and there is always the whisper, "What can it hurt?"

In Proverbs 31, we are told the woman of immeasurable value "considers a [new] field before she buys or accepts it [expanding prudently and not courting neglect of her present duties by assuming other duties]; with her savings [of time and strength] she plants fruitful vines in her vineyard (v 16, AMP)."

I love this. This woman of immeasurable considers the opportunity laid before her. Notice what she considers. She considers her present responsibilities. She thinks about what God expects of her in the season and place she is in. She does not think about whether someone will be mad or offended if she does not embrace this opportunity. She does not think about whether someone else thinks it is good or not. She does not fear that this may be her only chance at this field. Instead, she knows the Lord gives her what she needs in every season, including fields to tend for the purpose of yielding glorious fruit for Him and because of Him.

Because she doesn't embrace anything that isn't hers, she has time and energy to plant fruitful vines. These are not vines that will wither or languish because this valuable woman is spread too thin to tend them the way they need. No. This valuable woman knows her time and investments are valuable, so she only accepts what she knows she can tend well. Her vineyard will not be a straggly one, but one where the plants flourish, the fruit is evident, and the keeper is content. She will be known as one who is blessed.

Why?

Because she knew when to say when.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2009