They didn’t choose to be Homeless

In November I started teaching the women at the local homeless shelter. I was excited to be a teacher of Job Readiness and Parenting. The Job Readiness class is about to wrap up and has been very successful.  The parenting class though has been a different story.

We started with week 1 and there were 4 women in class but 2 of them had their children with them.  When I inquired why these children were not with the rest of the children I was told “they are not allowed to participate in the activity with the other children”.

The 2nd week the children were once again in the class, I asked why the children were in the parenting class when a group had come to have a Christmas party with ALL the children.  The answer again was “they are not allowed to participate in the activity with the other children”. So I proceeded to sit down to teach and the 2 other women, whose children were allowed to participate said, “If there are going to be children in the class, then I won’t come”.  They stood up and left.

That night instead of teaching about parenting I told my families story of an unruly teenager. How we had her locked up before her senior year in high school and how she could have chosen to quit after high school. I talked about how she kept plugging away and did graduate just last year with a Bachelor’s Degree.  I told them about owning a pizzeria and what I learned there. We were all over the map with discussion and stories, but at the end of the night that group of pre-teens/teens asked if I would teach them about jobs, anger and getting along (basically these were the subjects we touched on during my talk).  I was so excited and got approval to come back the following week to teach the teens.

When I walked into the shelter that Tuesday evening I was ushered quickly upstairs to the kids room. They asked “now what is the lowest age group you want?”

What, excuse me? After comprehending that they thought I was here for all the children I said “I am here for just the two families and their children?”

To which I was told “I am sorry but they are not allowed to participate in any activity with the other children”.

As I sat there in this empty room I was overcome with all types of emotions… but the main emotion I felt was sadness.  I had let those kids down. I promised I would be back to teach them. I had the relationship with them, and now I was in a room with pre-teens and teens that had NO relationship with me so why would they listen to me.

I quickly decided that God had me here so I was going to make the best of it and figure out the rest later.

A few sat down at the tables, a couple in the chairs up against the wall, and one of the youngest came and sat on the built-in bookshelf right next to me.

We chit chatted for a bit and then we talked about rules and why there are rules.

We talked about anger and how we need to control it.  We also talked about things we could do when we got angry that did not include hitting someone or something.

We talked about fathers and relationships with their dads.  The youngest one sitting right next to me blurted out “I don’t have a dad, I have a sperm donor”.  My heart sank when I heard that, because I knew those were the words of his mother or mother’s family.

I realized that these kids were all angry in their own way.  Some have been labeled “trouble makers” and it’s easier to live up to that label than to let someone get close because they don’t know what tomorrow has in store.  They did NOT ask to be homeless. Nobody asked them if they wanted their life to have to fit into a locker.  Their mothers for whatever reason have chosen to live in this shelter. Their lives are always in a state of flux with no personal space to call their own.  If their mother gets angry at a rule she can yank the kids up out of their seats and storm out, not to be let in again til the next day.  If their mother happens to find “love” they could find their things at a complete strangers one night and back at the shelter the next because “love” didn’t work.  Some are in the shelter because their mother stated it was better to be homeless living in a shelter in Nashville than staying in Michigan or Ohio.

So what’s the answer? Relationships.

Healthy relationships with the moms and the kids.

And where will these relationships come from?  The church

If you are interested in becoming a part of the solution please contact us.  We will train you and your volunteers. We will give you the tools to allow you to be an in an equipping relationship and make sustainable changes in the lives of hurting families.

Lessons from the Chimneys

Chimneys

Chimneys

This past week I had the opportunity to hike to the top of the Chimneys, this almost 2 mile hike to an altitude of just over 4600 ft. was a hike I will not soon forget. I guess I didn’t know what to expect, except I was headed to the top of that!

So I layered up because it was chilly, grabbed my camera and a bottle of water.

 

 

The rivers were beautiful. P1050744

 

Icy riverThe snow and ice was amazing.

I was traveling along not really thinking about it, then we hit these steps. P1050776

As I was climbing these steps, all I could think was, it would be much easier to climb if these steps weren’t here.

 

 

So lesson one I learned: sometimes when trying to reach a goal, you may encounter someone who wants to help and has your best interest in mind, but their help may make it harder to achieve your goal.

Hiking along, I am getting tired and I really want to quit, but I really want to finish; and my amazing husband starts asking me if I want to turn around and go back. He even starts asking how’s my face (previous injury from 2011), are you ok? We can stop if we need to.

Lesson two: I realized how many times I quit too early because I am tired and then someone I respect, admire etc… again with my best interest in mind, adds to my self talk that I need to quit.

I stand my ground and start arguing with myself. NO!!!! I am going to finish! I am NOT going to quit.

P1050802We come to this sign that states we haven’t even gone a mile. My inner arguing starts again. “No one will ever know”, ” you did your best”; and I start talking to myself, “I will know, and I want to finish this hike and cross it off my bucket list.”

So we continue on. Slowly and even more slowly, after 2 hours we are at the top. 20151124_140730

This entire hike ended up being, not just a “bucket list” item, but a telling tale of how many times I have had a goal, and allowed my self talk to emerge to the point of “sabotaging my goals.”

Lesson three: I will start to take my goals very serious and accomplish them, maybe slowly and even more slowly….but this hike made me realize that I DO want to reach the top for myself so I can compare my “pictures” to theirs, instead of saying “oh how beautiful, I wish I could have seen it for myself.”

With 2016 just around the corner what are your goals?  And when the sabotaging self talk starts, what defense do you have in place to counteract the negativeness?

A letter to my younger self

Today as I was texting a friend I found myself with this overwhelming need to journal.  As I started to journal, my thoughts went to “I wish I could have a do-over with my kids”.  So I started writing a letter to myself of what I wish I knew then, and how it would affect my children.

Dear Meredith

I know that you are poor and don’t have much.  I know that every month you stand in line for a food box at that church… but don’t let that define you.  I know that you are stressed about the finances and where the money will come to make the bills… but Meredith you have been given a gift, she is your firstborn and she will grow up to be just like you.  So if you don’t like some of your attributes you need to change them today.

I want to tell you,  you will make mistakes but the one mistake that will define everything is this; Be present and remember that you only live today, once.  Your firstborn is tiny today but one day she will grow up to be a mom.  Today Meredith your tone, your actions, your lack of actions will define how she sees the world.  How you carry yourself.  What you react to.  What you make time for.  How you let people treat you and how you treat people.  All these play into raising your little girl.

Don’t make her your excuse for your anger because you are tired.  Don’t make her your excuse because you are running late.  Own up to who you are and who you aren’t.  Don’t make your child fit your mold.  Slow down and be the best thing in your child’s life.  Meredith your child and soon to be children will remember the walks in the park, the picnics in the grass… they will also remember when you did not show up because you were too busy working or taking care of someone else’s life.  Meredith take every day from now until they ask you to stop… and be present in their life.  Today to be present looks different than what it’ll look like in 20, 30 or so years… but if you are not there today they will not want you present tomorrow.

Also many will call your oldest “Social baby”…. She will get this name because she can be crying, but then as soon as she is in public she is the happiest baby in the world.  Meredith, you will think it’s cute.  But as I am writing you this letter I need for you to realize that it is a coping skill she is learning from you.  And it’s not a healthy coping skill.

Take from this letter what you will, but remember you only get one chance at today.  You will mess some of them up, but repent, ask for forgiveness and make tomorrow a better day.

 

Is it January 1st yet?

As I walked into the 5-points post office, I could not believe my eyes.  There she was. I had been praying I would run into her.  I wanted to tell her how sorry I was.

I cut to the beginning of the line so I could hug her neck when she turned around.

Catching her off guard, I said how sorry I was, gave her a hug and asked how she was doing,  I knew this was the starting of the “Holidays of Firsts”.

As we talked, she cried and we hugged some more (grateful our small town is a town that  doesn’t get upset when you stand in the line hugging and crying; the people just walk around you).

She told of the plans they had.  That it wasn’t supposed to be like this.  And how she is mad at God, but He give her glimpses of hope that keeps her going.  Then she said probably the most profound words: “I just wish it could be January 1st”.

I felt at that moment God tapping me on the shoulder and saying “she has a reason to say that, but you…. You who say those words every year….you my daughter, you have no reason.”

Those are my “go to” words starting in about 11 days.

I started 3 years ago on a new journey and I think I am doing better every year to get farther along in the holiday season before I start saying those words, but I am definitely not perfect yet.

I also have felt God saying over this past week:

“Are you ready to enjoy?”

“Are you ready to slow down?”

“Are you ready to bask?”

“Are you ready to make time?” 

“Are you ready to not get so caught up in what the world makes the holiday about; you know the commercialism and superficial relationships?”

“I want you to seek relationships with family and or friends that are belly button to belly button time, real and authentic.”

So as I have pondered writing this blog this week I end with if you hear me say “can it hurry up and be January”, I give you permission to remind me to “be present”.

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Missionaries can be Stateside too

When someone is a missionary, they are like special forces behind enemy lines….this goes for stateside missionaries too.

This past week I was one of 5 speakers for a luncheon. As I was preparing for the talk, Rob asked me what the topic was supposed to be; I said I was not sure if there was a theme. Then he asked how long do you have; again I said, I am not sure.

All I knew was that lunch was on Friday and I was the “stateside missionary” speaking.

As we were traveling to the conference we started the process of writing down different things, so that no matter what the topic was to be, I would be prepared.

We arrived at the conference, and found out that lunch was on Friday at noon, in the Marriott.

The conference started and our booth was bustling with people and I never got around to asking the 2 very important questions.
1) how much time?
2) what was the topic?

I arrived at the luncheon and decided now was probably a good time to at least ask how long and when do I speak.

Luckily, I was last and I had only 7 minutes. I can wing this, I said to myself. The MC gets up and says “now you will hear from our missionaries”. What no lead in, no question, no nothing….just tell us what’s on your heart.

It was finally my time to speak and as I stood up, I felt the lump in my throat rising. All I could think was, how am I going to speak for 7 minutes when I don’t think I am going to be able to say the first words with out the tears starting.

I was wrong, the tears waited for me to start talking and feel somewhat comfortable, then they started.

So’s why was this hard?

It was hard because the last week in ministry leading up to this event was extremely difficult.

We had a mom who was desperately trying to make ends meet, almost losing her housing. The price tag for that was over $1700. After all the pleas that went out and the mom putting in over 10% of her own money, we only raised $800 of it. So as a ministry we covered it in hopes that the money would come in to replace it. It hasn’t, but she has a roof over her head and a budget to stick to and they are NOT homeless.

We had a mom overdose and was being buried while we were away.

Then, the computer we use crashed right before the big presentation.

Usually, I would be able to get some time alone with the Lord, pray, journal, sleep and be refreshed the next day. This was not the case. Everyday seemed to bring even more darkness.

Then it hit me the notes from the car ride about being a stateside missionary. They were raw emotion being verbalized. For so long you just do and don’t think, but when you see things on paper they become real and even started hurting, especially because I was so tired and felt so alone.

Here are some of our notes and what I am realizing is that they are true for many stateside missionaries.

So if you or your church supports a stateside missionary please ask God how you might encourage them this year and for as long as they are on the front lines.

When you are a stateside missionary you do not get invited to speak at churches through out the U.S. when you come home on furlough, to be asked how’s it going, and how can we support you even more.

Most don’t acknowledge the work of a stateside missionary so therefore very few outside your own hometown support the work.

Stateside missionaries don’t get care packages.

One of the biggest challenges stateside missionaries have is that of resources. Sometimes we think it would be easier to do the work in a third-world county without the resources available, instead of knowing they are available but not being allowed to use them.

Stateside missionaries never get to go back home to take a break.

When wanting to help a stateside missionary, make sure that your idea is a help and not creating more work for the stateside missionary.

Most stateside missionaries feel isolated and alone, even living in a 1st world country.

This list is by no means an exhaustive list…these are just things that came quickly as we were brainstorming “what do you want the church to know about stateside missionaries“.

Traditions and trip ups- Not allowing PTSD, anxiety and depression dictate your holiday.

There was a couple who had recently gotten married and were celebrating their first holiday by having everyone over for dinner.

As she was preparing the ham she cut off the ends and placed it in the pan to cook. Her husband walked in and saw the ends sitting there, he asked: “why did you cut the ends off?”

“I don’t know, it’s just the way my mom always did it.”

As the ham was cooking the young wife calls her mother, to ask why she cut off the ends of the ham.

Her mother chuckles, and says, “because I didn’t have a pan big enough to cook the ham”.

Traditions and trip ups- Not allowing PTSD, anxiety and depression dictate your holiday.

 

In 2011 I was the target of a gang attack. As a result of the attack, I was offered counseling, and therapy.  During this time, I was diagnosed with PTSD, but I was also opening lots of worms from my childhood and the abuse I endured as a teenager.

Through all of this, I realized that I was allowing traditions to trip up my holidays by triggering my PTSD, anxiety and depression.

So where did this start:

Growing up I used to love Christmas. Christmas was filled with snow, lots of it.

It was filled with a fresh tree and lots of homemade sugar cookies with homemade frosting.

It also was more importantly filled with Grandma, Grandpa, aunts, uncles and cousins.

You would wake up to see what Santa brought you, then rush to grandmas house.

There was piano playing, singing and the cousins would get our ice skates and head to the swamp to skate on the pond.

There were no cell phones or technology just the outdoors and a “be home by dusk”.

The evening was finished with homemade chocolate malts.

Then my childhood as I loved, came to a crashing  HALT!

My mom and dad got divorced, my mom remarried and my grandmother (who I did EVERYTHING with) at age 55 was diagnosed and died of leukemia in less than a month.

Now, Christmas looked like this:

No laughter, No one hurrying to grandmas, and to top it off pack your bags before we go because your dad is coming to get you.

It went from bad to worse….fast forward to my getting married and moving 600 plus miles away.

We went home once and never went back. I couldn’t explain it, but I had no desire to be pulled here and there.

Now that I have kids who have kids, I so badly wanted to replicate my memories of the “Norman Rockwell” Christmas traditions that I grew up with, but that came at a price…my anxiety and depression were at an all time high and worse yet, I could not wait for January 1st so this “Scrooge like” person would go away.

Epic fail every year. Again not knowing that I was allowing my yearning for a tradition to trip up my holidays by triggering my PTSD, anxiety and depression.

So what started the change was 3 years ago…. We finally decided to go home for Christmas.  The kids all had places to go and be so we went home to Michigan.

On the drive back  home to Tennessee,  I told my husband we can go home again, but NOT during the holiday season. That’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks.  As I was trying to recreate traditions and make everyone happy during the holiday, I was made painfully aware that I CANT do that for my own well-being.  And I have to be OK with NOT being at every family function or worse yet trying to recreate the tradition.

Two years ago, we became empty-nesters, and I had to make a conscious decision to no longer allow the traditions to trip me up, become full of anxiety, fall into deep depression and a SCROOGE.

I had to give myself permission to start over with NEW TRADITIONS.

So here are a few ideas I have come up with:

Don’t keep yourself so busy that you don’t have to think about the holiday

Do come up with new things for you and your family to do

Acknowledge the holidays, but be OK with the change that you want to do

Don’t feel guilty for NOT doing a tradition; especially if that tradition creates a trigger for your PTSD, anxiety and or depression.

Realizing that boundaries are a key part of keeping your sanity

Learning what your triggers are and saying “NO” to those things that flare up your anxiety, PTSD etc

Start NEW traditions.

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As a woman who speaks life into women all day, why can we advise, instruct others to change and live life free, but we have a hard time granting ourselves the same freedom?

 

 

Whats your little white pill?

As she walked down the long corridor, her hand naturally touched her hair.  KiKi, her hairdresser had out done herself this time.

Jay started going through her mental checklist, but she could feel the stares.

Before making their grand entrance into the ball room, Jay turned to the mirror hanging on the wall and quickly took inventory.

Smile… check

Lipstick…. check

Running her hand down her dress she felt the strong hand of her husband on the small of her back.  His push was a little firmer  than usual.

Did he suspect anything, she thought?

He leaned in and with a whisper said, “Lets go, its showtime”.

Turning ever so elegantly she took his arm and started counting down the seconds till she could excuse herself to the restroom.

Clutching her little black bag, she could feel the prescription bottle.  Jays whole body started to ache for that euphoric feeling that that little white pill would give her.   Jay first had to fulfill her duties of the customary handshakes and hugs that were required of her as the wife of such a prestigious businessman.


 

How does one get here, when you have everything the world has to offer?

Maybe it was a simple surgery and they sent you home on medication.  After the healing process started, you became afraid of any pain so you simply asked for more.

Its now 9 months after the surgery and you find that this little white pill has become your world.

You may attempt a day or two with out the little white pill… but then the demands of daily life, the demands of keeping up with schedules and events is just easier with a little white pill.

At least that is what your mind tells you.  That is until your doctor suspects a problem and confronts you.

Your world comes crashing in when your doctor says no more.

You now find yourself the wife of a prestigious businessman, on the streets trying every avenue to find that little white pill.


 

You may think this is not your story because its not a “little white pill” that is your crutch to get through the day.

But ask yourself this; what “pill” or “alcohol” is it that I am using to get through the day?

Remember just becuase something maybe “legal” if it is being used to “get through the day” you need to seek help.

But remember the “pill, alcohol etc” is just a result of a deeper issue; so make sure you work all the way back to the root cause.

I have heard from many over the years as they sat across from me in an orange or black and white jumpsuit:  “I can’t believe it  had to get to here for God to get my attention”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If the Church doors could speak

IMG_3491It was rainy and the weather was turning cold.  As I sat in my warm vehicle, stopped at the light, my attention turned to the church across the road. My mind started to drift and all I heard was “what if the church doors could speak?”

What would they say.

“Ouch, why did you slam me so hard, what did I do to you?”

or

“Oh, I love it when she opens the door she never pushes too strong that it hurts my frame.”

No probably not.  But what about these…

“Hey you… you… yeah you… you know I am speaking to you.  You walk in here on Sunday morning all smug like you have no sin to be uncovered.  I saw the way you left your wife and children in the vehicle to fend for themselves in this cold rain.”

“Hey go talk to that couple over there.  Every week they are purposefully late. and leave before the last song is finished.  They sit across the street wait for the doors to shut.  Then they walk up, press out their outfits with their hands, she pats her face one last time to push back the tear stained blush and he takes 3 deep breaths before putting his hand on my handle.  Please someone talk to them before its too late.  They are hurting.”

Or what about….

“Hey ya’ll see that lady who snuck in… yeah her… the one who is looking at her phone so she won’t make eye contact with anyone.  She’s been at my door all week crying.  Look I even have a black streak from her makeup.  Go talk to her, she really needs a friend.”

Or

“Hey ya’ll you don’t know it but I do…there has been a group of people sleeping just outside my doors every night this week.  One of them even came up to the steps and laid their head on my threshold. They were crying and  wanted to know someone cared. They leave before anyone gets here in the morning.  I heard them talking about your sign saying “they are welcome here” but then they said all ‘church folk’ are the same and they really don’t want them worshiping in the same building.”

If your church doors could speak what would they say to you this week.

Remember doing “relationship” ministry is hard.

Its messy.

You will… get mascara stained clothing… I PROMISE.

Jesus is Felony Friendly

 

This past weekend I had the privilege of being one of the speakers at a Women’s Conference.  My topic was Bible 101.  No it was not on facts like there are 66 books in the Bible and Paul, who was Saul; his job before writing most of the New Testament was to persecute Christians.

Actually it was on the fact that if we believe the Bible is true and I do.  2 Timothy 3:16-17

All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach us what is true and to make us realize what is wrong in our lives. It corrects us when we are wrong and teaches us to do what is right. God uses it to prepare and equip his people to do every good work.

That we will believe Genesis 1:27

So God created human beings in His own image.

And if we are looking in the mirror and we don’t see His image; then the question becomes do you know what His image is supposed to look like?

Philippians 2:5-6a

You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had. Though he was God….

We do have a book full of what it means to look in the mirror and ask ourselves the question “do we look like the image of God”?

So what does this have to do with Jesus is Felony Friendly.

Romans 5:6 says

When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners. 

Then Romans 5:8 says 

But God showed His great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.

A sin is defined as a an immoral act considered to be a transgression against divine law. The synonyms are words like misdemeanor, crime, offense, wrong doing, etc.

God loved us in our sinful nature so much that He sent His one and only Son to die for us.

John 3:16-17

 For this is how God loved the world: He g ave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.  God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through him.

God woo’d us from our own jail cell.  The jail cell of our sinful nature Galatians 5: 19-21

When you follow the desires of your sinful nature, the results are very clear: sexual immorality, impurity, lustful pleasures,  idolatry, sorcery, hostility, quarreling, jealousy, outbursts of anger, selfish ambition, dissension, division,envy, drunkenness, wild parties, and other sins like these

The challenge becomes when you are labeled by society as a “once a sinner always a sinner”  it is easier to stay or re-offend than it is to change or be transformed.

Romans 12:2 says

 Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect.

To be transformed  means learning a new way, and how many of us if we are honest “re-offend”? We especially in the early states of learning to be transformed “re-offend” when all we have in our life is the world.  We have no one there to disciple us, to teach us, to emulate?

Do you know someone that is trying to change and not “re-offend? I know that the pat Christian answer is read your Bible, pray, go to church, but my prayer today is that you will not give that answer to someone but instead do what the Bible says today in Matthew 28: 18-20

Jesus, undeterred, went right ahead and gave his charge: “God authorized and commanded me to commission you: Go out and train everyone you meet, far and near, in this way of life, marking them by baptism in the threefold name: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Then instruct them in the practice of all I have commanded you. I’ll be with you as you do this, day after day after day, right up to the end of the age.”

But as you train and teach remember yourself that in 1 Timothy 4:12b-13

Be an example to all believers in what you say, in the way you live, in your love, your faith, and your purity.  Until I get there, focus on reading the Scriptures to the church, encouraging the believers, and teaching them.

I’ll choose “B-2”

Trial is a season of unexpected and open ended pain that tests our faith.

James 1 Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.

Read that first sentence again in James 1 WHEN troubles come or the NIV says ” WHEN you face trials of many kinds”…

In the Sunday sermon, this past weekend, the guest preacher said ” you don’t chose your trials”.

As much as I agree, we don’t go to God’s rolodex and say “here, I can handle this trial with everything I have going on”; or “here, let’s pick ‘B2’, that trial looks like one I can beat.

I do wonder how many times we say we want to believe but we become the seed that fell among the thorns in Matthew 13

The seed that fell among the thorns represents those who hear God’s word, but all too quickly the message is crowded out by the worries of this life and the lure of wealth, so no fruit is produced.

So in essence because God loves us so and He wants the best for us “we do choose to be in a trial”. We choose this first with our disobedience to Gods word. We also allow worry and the lure of wealth and popularity, to choke out the flame of obedience and love we have for God and doing the things He wants us to do.