Raleigh's Day & Leaning In

I really should know better than to think I know what a week will look like....as we were driving back home Monday afternoon, I actually said 'well, this should be a fairly low key week with no major commitments.'  Which was so nice after a string of a couple high tempo weeks.  And of course that's when I received a call from the hospital letting us know they had an opening for us on Wednesday afternoon to have Raleigh's procedure done.   (In hindsight, what a blessing - I truly did not have any commitments on Wednesday or Thursday...God's timing is perfect, right?)

But that threw me into high drive to line up child care (we'll spend a night with Raleigh in the PICU), unpack, get the house organized and set up (did I mention we were just driving back in town....oy!). Given less than 48 hours notice has been a blessing, though, because I just simply don't have time to dwell on Raleigh's procedure.

I keep trying to think of things to distract me from the anticipation and while we are in the waiting room....  books, magazines, music, on line shopping, research, etc.....  you get the idea:  LOTS of things to distract me from knowing that my daughter's heart is being worked on.  (Our doctor reassured as that of all the heart issues you could have, this would be his choice...it's the easiest to fix, in other words....but anything to do with your baby and her heart is not going to sit well.)

But God, in His gentle grace spoke something to me this morning.  Perhaps I am not meant to keep distracting myself.  Perhaps, this is where I am supposed to lean in to Him.  To let Him know how queasy my stomach feels, how my own heart is caught in my throat and beating faster than it should, how my mind is racing through all the possible tragic scenarios, how vulnerable I feel to have no control (though any control is an illusion, anyway), how I know no amount of perfect nutrition could heal her heart, how I hate that there will be something artificial in her for the rest of her life, how I feel a tiny bit upset that we have to deal with this (raw honesty), but how thankful I am we found the issue, how I hate having to face my PTSD-like feelings of being back in the hospital, and overall, how just stinkin' worried my momma heart is.

By default I have been an avoider most of my life.... avoiding uncomfortable feelings and putting on a smile and shoving those tough feelings deep down somewhere....but God is calling me out of that suffocating space.  He is calling me into a space that is broad, wide, secure.  He is big enough for my feelings and He has something in exchange for me.  His peace.  His faithfulness.  His steadfastness. Simply, He offers Himself.  

Here's where I invite you in:  to pray for us...that we would have a 'normal' procedure. Of course.  But I will be talking to God a lot today, so meet me there by letting me know how I can pray for you.  Seriously, when else have I/do I/will I have several hours carved out of my afternoon to just pray?  Send me prayers, please, and I would love to pray for you while I tell God all about my heart.

* the deets:  We will leave our home at 1:00 p.m., check into hospital by 2:00 p.m., register and pre op until her scheduled procedure at 4:00 p.m..  She should be under for 3 hours, and then we hope to spend just one night with her in the PICU.   We hope to be back home by Thursday afternoon.  

I LOVE all the sketches the docs have provided for us.  This helps me understand what they'll be doing to Raleigh to make her heart 'all better'.

Is that not the tiniest, cutest blood pressure cuff?  

The sketch of what the doc will be doing.....  using a vein (left arrow) to thread in a tiny plug to block a valve/duct that is open and is allowing to much blood to flow back into her heart and putting stress on her left ventricle and increasing risk of future infections.  The artery (lower right side, wishbone shaped) will be accessed in case they need to use it to help place the plug.  Easy peasy, right?????  

Come On In...a Deeper Look at Healing

I never cease to be amazed at the ways God speaks to me.  More often than not, it is in the quiet, unexpected moments, as I realize that He's just spoken directly to my heart.  Yes.  I have seen Him in 'loud' ways like the angel, but those 'quiet', unsuspecting moments are no less precious.

Sunday mornings when we're attempting to get ready for church, my husband tries to give me time to actually get ready.  I mean time to actually brush my hair (I confess most days I don't really brush it!), find an outfit that consists of more than workout clothes and feel a bit more put together.  But sometimes, that 'me time' is ambushed by little people.  I admit my normal reaction consists of shooing them out of the bathroom, but that day the words disappeared in my throat and God gave me eyes to see something new.  You see, my kids just walk into my bathroom like it's no big deal.  Like they have a right to be there.  Like they have the privilege of being in my 'me time'.  No hesitation, no asking permission, no checking to see if it's okay.....nope, they just walk right on in.  And that.  That CONFIDENCE to walk into my presence, as if they belong there, with no hesitation is something God convicted me of that morning.  In an instant, I went from knee jerk resentment of their interruption to a softness for it.

This confidence is the same confidence He offers us in approaching Him.

"Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Hebrews 4:16

If I am completely honest, even though I have a long history with Jesus, there is often a hint of hesitation on my part.  As if I need to ask permission to 'bother' him with another prayer. (There has been a high volume on my behalf recently!)  Because I don't want to impose by mentioning something again.  As if I don't really, truly believe that I am His beloved.  I know some of my behavior has been shaped by my past, but He gently convicts me that I have been given the same freedom to be CONFIDENT when I approach Him, as my kids are when they approach me.  To be sure, confidence isn't to be confused with a lack of reverence.  But here is the catch:  confidence comes from knowing who our identity is rooted in.

I think that is the real battle for so many of us.  To know that our identity is simply in being His.

My kids have no doubt that they belong to me.  They have every confidence in approaching me with requests for everything from the real to mundane to ridiculous.  They know whose they are.

Somewhere in the life journey of having divorced parents, being hurt, experiencing rejection and uncertainty, a brokenness found it's way deep in my heart.  The crevice became filled with a (often times subconscious) doubt that God delights in me.  One of my favorite verses in the Bible is from Zephaniah 3:17 "The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves.  He will take GREAT DELIGHT in you; He will quiet you with His love; He will rejoice over you with singing."  He will do these things simply because of who He is.   

I have found myself, wishing, hoping, praying that someday this would be true for me.  That some day, He would delight in me.  That some day, I would have done enough to make Him proud of me.  That some day I would have a house that is organized enough, kids that are nice enough, a personality that is nice/helpful/creative/submissive/smart/strong/pretty/perfect enough, etc.  But the truth is He already delights in me.  His delight is merely mine to accept.  He delights in us because we are His.  And therefore, we have been given confidence to approach Him as our daddy.  No hesitation or worry about inconveniencing Him.  No making sure it's okay to 'bother' Him about something.  In fact, He is pleased when we approach Him with full confidence that we are His and when we accept His delight in us.   

Confessing this brokenness of my heart and asking for healing has actually been the deepest part of my healing from cancer.  Yes.  I am beyond grateful for His physical healing.  I couldn't be more thankful for the extra years He has given me on this earth and I ask and look forward to many more.  But through this crazy journey with cancer, He has shown me deep needs in my heart that I wasn't even aware of.  To paraphrase an interview I heard with Joni Eareckson Tada "He isn't just concerned with your physical healing; He cares more about healing your heart."

Whatever you are going through right now, I hope this encourages you.  I hope this reminds you that He is always at work, continuing to bring us, His good work, to completion.  Amen.  

My Cleft of Grace

Whew.  The last couple months have been filled with prepping for a move, moving and unpacking and settling in.... I feel like I am SO slow at getting settled....I am openly jealous of those super humans who can unpack and get settled with pictures and everything hung within 5 days.  Seriously.  I am confessing my  jealousy.  It just takes me a while to get the feel for a space to turn our house into a home...I'm helplessly s.l.o.w.

I've also been intentionally a bit slower in another department....getting plugged in and going 'mom dating'.  :)  I've been a bit more hesitant than normal.  Though I desperately want to get to know my (soon to be) community of friends here, I just haven't figured out how to navigate the whole 'c-convo'..... 'oh yeah, I was diagnosed with cancer a couple years ago and saw a great big angel....can you please pass the salt and pepper and please don't think I am weird...I promise, it's not contagious...oh yes....that definitely means my girls are fake.....will you please still take a chance on being my friend?'

I bring her along as a cute decoy to convince folks to be my friend  :) 

I've also been wrestling with a brickload of fear....weighing in in the background of so many thoughts....the kids just started school this week... my thought process goes something like this: 'yay! they came home with smiles and they are happy at their school....  but what if God is just letting them like their school because my cancer will come back and they are going to need some good friends.'  Or, 'Thank you, Lord, for our new home...it is comfortable and fits us well.....  well, it might come in handy for lots of visitors and friends who come to help me if I get really sick again...'  And round and round it goes....  See how the enemy twists the good things with doubt and fear?  It's a terrible cycle and I know it's a constant assault from the enemy on my soul.  Because the fear can be crippling.  It steals your joy.  It comes to maim and destroy.  When Paul spoke of the thorn in his side, I kinda get it.  Fighting fear has been a constancy, lately.

And this time of year is tough for me.....a move, holiday expectations, tons of transitions, surgeries, etc. (okay, I will stop whining now)....and I've been specifically wrestling with this one thing:  His Glory.

This is what I mean:  I think of the angel I saw two years ago and part of me CRAVES to see and know His Glory (the other part of me would nearly pee my pants in fear), yet the fear stops me from getting any closer.  With all my soul, I long for the Glory I experienced when I saw the angel and nothing in the whole universe mattered except that I was seeing a glimpse of God's Glory.  Everything faded in that moment.  Yet, the path to seeing His Glory was painful and hard and heartbreaking.  But worth it.

My angel drawing found it's spot in our new home. :)  

I know of a friend of a friend whose daughter is battling cancer and has had a grueling journey.  I know a young family who lost their very young, 25 year old, momma to cancer.  I recently met in passing, a widow of a Navy SEAL.  My journey, has taught my heart to break for them like never before.  But it's as if I can't get too close for fear that their heart ache will become mine and that my heart may never be put back together again (God has infused in me a whole new level of sympathy for those that are suffering).  And so there remains the distance again.  Because the fear keeps me from getting too close.  Yet, I LONG for His Glory.

God, in His never ending Grace, spoke to me this Sunday.... it was during praise, and the leader mentioned the story of Moses and how he asked to see God's Glory.  And instead of saying no, God, with great care, took Moses and placed Him in a cleft of the side of the mountain, to protect him as He passed by.

Exodus 33:22 "... and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by."

What a GRACIOUS God.  He owed Moses nothing. nada. zilch.  Yet, He gave him the grace to experience His Glory....

And so I am making the decision to lean in.  To make His Glory part of this season in a whole new way.  To ask for His Glory....AND to trust in His provision of Grace through gracious responses from new friends.  To trust Him to provide a way to draw near to the broken hearted and help carry their burden and step in the gap for them as others have for me.  To trust Him in His abundant gifts to us....without letting fear ruin His blessings.  To take the steps forward in being loved by Him as only He can.  To know that when I pursue His Glory through relationships around me, He will always provide me a cleft of grace.  I may never understand the 'why' behind my diagnosis two years ago or why I have to daily battle the fear of cancer.  But I trust His Glory.  And this side of heaven, that is enough.     

I don't know why I felt such a burden to write this..... and seriously, why I had such opposition..... interrupted naps, crunched timeline, whinier than usual kiddos...(cause normally they are total saints....J/K!)....but I am praying this blesses someone.  In case you're in the aftermath of heart ache....or for the time you do face it and come out on the other side and need to know you are not alone.  

More Than Conquerors

A few nights ago, at community group I blindsided myself....and our group.  While discussing the book of John and highlighting some of the miracles that Jesus did, we read about how Jesus gave sight to the blind man who had been blind for THIRTY SEVEN years.  Y'all.  From out of nowhere I passionately voiced a question that comes naturally to me:  'why THIRTY SEVEN years, Lord?'  why suffer for so long?  Was there something magical about thirty seven years?  I believe some of you may sincerely not get hung up on this question and find no reason to wonder about the thirty seven years.  But part of me can't just let it go without asking God about it (remember my earlier post of being strong willed).  My questioning is not out of defiance or disrespect, but of wanting to truly, desperately know more.

And if we're going to get real honest here, I think it was about me.  In reading about the 37 years, my heart ached for the man.  Because as we draw close to the two year mark of my diagnosis and surgeries and recoveries, there is a part of me that wants to wrestle with God and ask 'why?'.  Why was it SO hard?  Please let me be beyond clear here:  I am not questioning the sovereignty of God or that He is good and in control.  I just have this really simplistic desire to know 'why'.  Because it brings me closer to know WHO He is.  I so desperately want to understand why He saw the suffering as necessary.  I completely understand the concept of trials producing endurance and refinement and the value in it....but I'm talking about the suffering that seems, dare I say, excessive.  Why did the man need to be blind for 37 years?  His whole childhood and into his adult life?  Why did I lose so much blood and have so many complications during my first surgery? Why do we see children suffering through unspeakable abuse and disease?

And it's in the wrestling that God revealed this to me.  It was the pain and heartbrokenness from a complicated surgery that stripped away every shred of pretense that I had and I finally came before God with an honesty that some may consider brutal, but I now see as real for the first time.  And perhaps, that was what it was all about.  Getting past every shred of my protective layers to the point of complete, desperate submission before Him.

I recently stumbled on a talk by John Bevere, who spoke about finding our calling.  He passionately explained the difference between what we 'do' and what we are called to do, and how we will one day be held accountable for these things.  Lo and behold, that IS what scripture says...in Corinthians, Romans, Revelations....we will be held accountable for what we did according to our calling.

This is what it means for me:  before my diagnosis, I lived in the comfort of being an 'active' believer..... tithing, volunteering, being involved, building relationships, having kids, navigating the adventures of parenthood, opening up our home, doing bible studies, striving to be a 'good' wife, etc.  But cancer quickly taught me that my time on this earth is perhaps not as long or as comfortable as I had once thought.  And so I best get busy doing what God has called me to do on this earth vs just doing things that are good.  I believe I was given a second chance to understand that I have been called to something unique to me by God and there should be an urgency to do it.

The hard part is discerning our calling, right?  Duh.  As my good friend said, wouldn't it be nice if God just revealed our calling to us in a burning bush like Moses'  Yes.  It would.  But perhaps that's part of the journey...He builds our faith while revealing our calling.

I don't think I can precisely state what my specific calling is on this earth yet...I do have the responsibility and privilege of being wife, momma, friend, etc...  I like driving fast cars....I love adventure...I love the mountains.  But something I find a passion to do and have always found is connecting people.  I LOVE meeting people and finding ways to help individuals connect to each other ('oh, you homeschool?  This gal, over here could be your friend!'.....'You do Young Life???  Yes!'...'You started a business to raise funds for amputees? Awesome!  I know someone who could totally use your help!'...'You know a teen mom who needs some lovin'?  Yes!  I know just the person you need to meet').  I can't put a name to this passion (it's a stretch to call this a skill or talent, right??? :)), but I do know it's somewhat unique to me and it's been a constant passion throughout my life.

SO, with that said.  Here's my big first step in a project I have had in mind for quite a while.  Is this my calling?  I dunno.  This could be the first and last of these posts....or it could be one more step of obedience that reveals my calling.  Who knows.  This also serves as my disclaimer that this is the first ever interview I have done and forgive me for the sound quality...I'm still sorting through the world of audio equipment/programs/etc.  I promise to make it better.  But in the mean time...

For now, I'll spare you the whole back story of why I wanted to do these interviews....the bottom line is that I know so many stories of incredible, every day women who are STRONG.  They have a strength that is not purely defined by muscle mass or popularity.  These are ordinary women doing the extraordinary through Christ and I want to highlight their stories to encourage others.  

Since October is National Domestic Abuse Awareness Month, I present to you "Mrs. Dawni and her story".  Again, please be patient and gentle with me....the interview is 25 minutes long and the presentation may not be perfect, but content is there.

Prayers and Popcorn

I hate to tie food into a biblical analogy, but it's what struck me today, as I was popping some popcorn for the kids.

I have been thinking of writing a post about prayer for a few weeks, but avoided it for whatever reason...partially because I just don't truly understand it.  And yet, I feel like God keeps bringing me back to the topic of prayer over and over again.

Why the popcorn? Because, just like prayers, I don't 'TRULY' understand how it works.  I toss a bunch of these tiny kernels into our air popper, turn on a button that makes them whirl around in a tornado of heat and then all the sudden, they pop.  Into popcorn.  It's so simplistic, but makes me  (a person who loves to know the WHY and HOW to all things) really wonder how in the world with enough heat, these kernels explode, not into smithereens, but into something edible.  Of course, despite the fact that I don't understand this chemical/physical process, we eat it and enjoy it just the same.

And that is why I'm finally giving in to the nudge to write this post on prayer.  Just because I don't understand it doesn't mean I get a pass to avoid discussing it.

This is the part I don't understand:  how does it work?  That about sums it up.  Truly.  How do our prayers affect the God of the universe in the outcome of certain situations?  Do our prayers really have an affect?  Do my prayers become more effective when said in a certain order?  Or more powerful when said at at certain time?  With certain people?  Only for certain topics?  How in the world does a prayer from little 'ol me, sway the actions of the Creator of the universe?  Why does it seem to 'work' at sometimes and not at others?  We know parents that plead in prayer for the healing of their sick child, only to end up heartbroken.  We know young professionals praying for a job, only to be discouraged.  And then there is the seemingly trivial story you hear about how God provided just the right couch, placed alongside the road for someone.  The span of prayers from desperate to seemingly trivial is wide.  And it can make this person doubt at times.  But that's when I remember an older pastor telling us to 'doubt our doubts'.

I have to remember to doubt my doubts because I have seen the evidence of prayer over and over again. And aside from that, the Bible tells us over and over and over again to 'PRAY'.  Not to figure out which muscles to heal in which order to heal a man crippled from birth, or come up with fractions to feed 500.  Don't confuse prayer as a lack of action.  It means prayer becomes part of our action. Because the Bible also assures us that at any given moment, Heaven is working on our behalf for His Glory and our Good.  And somehow prayer is part of that equation.  Besides all the reasons and verses I could quote on prayer, it comes down to this.  Jesus, the Son of God, prayed.  If it's good enough for Him, then it's good enough for me, right?  Actually, I get the sense that Jesus didn't pray just because it was a good thing to do (like holding the door open for someone, or yoga, or serving at a soup kitchen).  I wonder if He prayed more out of a need for His Father vs an obligation.  And perhaps that's all I need to understand about prayer.

But wait.  There's the empirical evidence, too (which seems somewhat ironic, given that we're talking about prayer here).  How can I explain the time two different people in two different places prayed for me at the same time?  How can I explain when my friend felt led to pray for me during surgery, when she didn't know that I had just lost a LOT of blood and required four transfusions?  How can I explain the effect of my 24 hour prayer guard that battled on my behalf while unexplainable things went wrong and my life seemed to be under attack?  There's so much I don't understand and can't explain, yet one can't argue with the results.

My 24 hour prayer guard....we left a copy of this with my mom while she was watching the kids during that first surgery so she could know how we were being covered in prayer.  This is one the most humbling pieces of paper that I have ever received.  

To be very honest, this is what may be the hardest obstacle I have to overcome in prayer:  Prayer requires hope.  And I've learned that hope is not something to be taken lightly.  Hope takes more energy, courage, discipline and trust than I ever imagined.  When I was diagnosed with cancer, hope seemed so distant compared to death.  At times, I needed people to hope and believe on my behalf, because I didn't have the energy to hope.  It's a scary thing to hope and risk disappointment or failure.  And it takes strength to continue to hope again in something after facing disappointment.  Which is why our hope has to be anchored in the greater foundation of prayer.

This is from Gloria Furman's book, Treasuring Christ When Your Hands Are Full, where she quotes Martyn Lloyd-Jones.  

I don't think I have provided any more clarity in the matter of prayer in terms of exactly how or why it works.  But maybe this can convince you, the next time you feel a nudge to pray, to go ahead and do it. Anytime.  Anywhere.  Even while popping popcorn.        



    

SWW

I'll get to SWW in a bit....disclaimer up front:  it is not something I made up... I'm quoting an author who I will introduce in a bit....

This summer I had an awesome opportunity to spend some time with precious girlfriends who I consider to be 'soul friends'.  I brought up a question that had been on my mind for a few weeks and they were the perfect group to ask....because they've been there for me in some of my hardest moments and I trust them to the core.  I told them that I was beginning to wonder if I was a feminist.

I know the word brings up a broad range of ideas and phrases to mind.... "I am woman hear me roar"..."break the glass ceiling"..."have to be better than men"...." independent"..."tough"..."difficult".... and some embrace it and some cringe at it.

To be very frank, I have never considered myself to be a feminist - in terms of trying to prove that I am better than the next man.  But throughout my adult life, I have become more and more aware of the discomfort I have in the fact that some might consider me to be a feminist.  Because I can tend to be outspoken, I usually don't take no for an answer, I feel more at home at a shooting range than at a tea party, and when I think of the book Love and Respect (which describes the different love languages for women and men), I would often rather choose Respect.  I am fascinated by the fact that after Jesus' resurrection, he first appeared to women.  I love reading example after example of how Jesus elevated women to a position of respect vs property.  Of how he encouraged Mary as she sat as a student at his feet versus tend to duties in the kitchen.  Of how he never condemned women, even when they were caught in adultery, but instead restored their dignity.  And it's all of this that gave me a mini identity crisis, wondering if I was a feminist, because sometimes I feel like I don't fit in with the church.

Let me back up a moment and clarify something:  I find nothing wrong with being soft spoken, sitting down to a tea party, or choosing Love vs Respect.  Absolutely nothing wrong.  In fact, I admire so many of those qualities.  But I have so often felt uncomfortably different.  And sometimes feel like something is wrong with me.

Until this weekend.

When I listened to a podcast and learned about SWW.  Strong Willed Women.  It was a podcast with Cynthia Tobias, and I almost discounted it..... until I started to hear what she was saying and I was completely tuned in.  As I continued to listen to the podcast I started saying 'yes!', 'exactly!', 'totally!', 'that's me!', 'she's spot on!'.  I listened to it twice and then played it for my husband.  I don't think I could summarize her interview and do her justice so I'll include a few quotes from the transcript below:

"One of the things I love about being a strong-willed woman, I want to work shoulder to shoulder with men. I don't want to put them down or to put myself up or to have special privileges. I want to work side by side in a collaborative method, using complementary strengths. So, it's not in any way a feminist position. It's not a position that says, okay, women are better. It's saying we are collaborating. We are mutually respectful."

"Well, and the first step is just to recognize, awareness of I am a strong-willed person and I know I don't always use it appropriately. And I come to God. I talk about in the King James Version in Corinthians where it says, I want every thought to come into captivity to Christ.

I want that for myself as the strong-willed woman. And I want to make sure that my life aligns with Christ. And let's just be honest for a minute. In churches and in women's ministries, the strong-willed woman is not always present, because we're not gonna go do arts and crafts on a Thursday night women's ministry."

"But most strong-willed women will tell you that we don't necessarily feel as welcome in a church as we do on the job, for example. We could be a CEO of a large organization and be really valued for our leadership. But then at the church it doesn't translate.

And so, this book is meant to open conversations like that, meant to open the conversation and say, "Where are the strong-willed women that we need praying for us? Where are the strong-willed women that we need coming alongside us for support? Are we reaching out to them?"  (Podcast)    (Cynthia's Website)  Her Book, A Woman of Strength and Purpose. 

I feel like someone finally came alongside me and whispered "you are just FINE".  "Nothin' wrong with you hun."  I feel like I have so much freedom in being me.  Because that's how God made ME.  My strong will still definitely needs to be honed to use discretion in my speech, graciousness in my actions and gentleness with others, but I FINALLY feel freedom in knowing that not despite my strong will, but through my strong will, I can bring Glory to God.

Y'all, as I write this I realize that I may be light years behind so many who have already recognized this and are totally at peace with being a SWW, but hallelujah, it feels SO good to embrace who I was made to be!

These race cars were set up in the parking lot of our church for Father's Day.... my husband was out of town so I gladly took advantage of this!  One of my dreams is to drive a race car.  :)  

Several of my kids have had some crazy hair....I'm starting to think this type of hair might be a reflection of offspring from strong willed women.  

Enough is Enough and to Hell with Shame

I have an idea that has been brewing for a little while...something I am passionate about and involves interviewing some people who have gone through extraordinary things.  I've been asking a few folks to pray about it and help me sort out whether this is just a 'good idea' or a 'God idea'.

Just when I start feeling like I have a green light for this project, I completely undermine myself.  On Monday morning we had a meeting for parents who want to help plan the end of year party for the first graders.  Of course it's a morning that is more hectic than usual with extra shoe tying, a toddler who INSISTS on walking vs being carried and an extra messy house/kitchen left in the wake of getting kids out the door.  At the end of the meeting, a mom I have never met before innocently mentions the idea of prizes for the games, and without skipping a beat, I blurt out something to the effect of 'those things just come in my door and go straight in the trash anyway....besides isn't the party enough?'  Hours later, my conscience finally catches up with me and I realize how I completely lost my filter of Grace when I blurted out my opinion....and the worst part is I don't even know who the mom is so that I can find her and apologize for my lack of tact.  And y'all.  For the rest of day I felt terrible about it.  Really, really terrible.  And then I recognized the name of this feeling.  It is shame.  I was ashamed of how I reacted so quickly without pausing to give that woman a chance to put a period on the end of her sentence.

And shame for me runs deep.  And it is no coincidence that I just started hearing about a new book by Christine Caine, called Unashamed.  Her story is incredible and I am looking forward to reading her book soon.

This feeling of shame has deep, deep roots and I can already tell it is threatening to rear it's ugly head as we head into our next move (which may be in three months of six months!).  I'm wrestling with how to meet and make new friends, genuine new relationships....all while I explain that I was diagnosed with cancer in 2014.  How in the world do you casually include that in an intro conversation without making the other person feel awkward?  How do I navigate explaining what our story has been without making cancer THE story.  How do I explain the whole story of God while getting over my embarrassment and shame about cancer? How do I navigate the path of making new friends with a hard past?  And even harder than that, how do I explain that even with a cancer diagnosis in 2014, the scariest part of 2016 wasn't cancer?

The scariest part of 2016 so far for me has been watching my 5 yr old get on the school bus by herself.  Due to logistics of a napping toddler, and two older kids in school, the bus was our best option.  But it was something I had to first confide in some friends about and then ask for prayer.  This is where I have summoned up every inkling of courage I have to share my biggest fear so far in 2016.  And I'm doing this because enough is enough.  Shame has no place in our story and yet, it threatens to unravel me at the most unexpected times.  And I think one way to conquer shame is to air it out in the light so that it can no longer whisper it's lies in the dark.

My shame is that when I was a child, I was touched inappropriately by a family friend on Christmas morning when he was watching me while my parents had to work.  By the grace of God, it happened once, but that one time, was enough to affect my self image and how I parent - especially as a parent of four girls.  That one time was enough to bring me to tears in deciding whether or not to let my 5 yr old girl ride the bus to school because the bus driver was a man (and good grief - why, oh why, does he have to have a mustache?????  My son is never allowed to have a mustache.  Sorry if that offends those who have mustaches).  That one time was enough to stir up feelings of anger when I get stared at because of my ethnicity or just because of my kids.  That one time is enough to make me cringe when I hear my voice in a recording, or see myself on video.  That one time was enough.  And Christ says enough.  His blood for me on the Cross is enough.  I will make silly mistakes and my behavior will not always be perfect, but He is enough for me.    


So, enough is enough.  Shame has a way of making me feel like a fraud when I am trying to get to know other people in a true and genuine way.  Because shame says eventually they will find out my secrets and realize I am unworthy of their friendship.  Enough is Enough.  Because He says I am Enough to be called a daughter of the One True King.  

I'm sharing this for the person who struggles with their own shame.  May you know that He has paid the price for all your darkest fears and shame and He calls you WORTHY and ENOUGH.  He has called us out of the darkness and into the light.  It's time to say enough is enough and to Hell with Shame.