Tag: Serving

Miss Gail and Lieutenant John

I couldn’t miss Miss Gail’s hot pink hair from the road.

I made a U-turn and headed back.

Once I started walking to where she was camped at, I could see there were three other people with her.

I’m not going to lie, I was scared.

I kept asking God to protect me. I was at their home and I didn’t know what to expect.

I handed Miss Gail the one lunch I had with me and immediately she asked if I was with county.

I didn’t even know what she meant. I told her no, I just couldn’t help but notice her beautiful pink hair from the road and wanted to turn around to give her my extra lunch.

She thanked me and I started walking off when Lieutenant John spoke something to me that I couldn’t hear, so walked back.

He was telling me his name was John but the people on the street gave him the name lieutenant.

He spoke really fast. They both did.

Miss Gail came over to us and was saying something I didn’t quite understand but she seemed agitated and set something wrapped in a black bag on the wall and said they were needles.

Dear God, why do you have me here?

Apparently they were something she took from someone because she felt they were dangerous.

I don’t even know. I’m still trying to piece together what she was talking about.

I didn’t feel safe.

Lieutenant John wanted to talk to me about where he’s from, Indiana by the way. His friend who didn’t give me his name joined the conversation, briefly. Their fourth friend had nothing to say.

I left telling Miss Gail I would pray God would put a hedge of protection around her and to stay safe, since I felt she felt she was in danger from the person she took the needles from.

I really don’t know what to think.

This was the 20th lunch I have given out.

It was the first time I ever felt uneasy while I was there and not sure how I should feel after I left.

They were very nice. They were not threatening.

I was scared because they talked fast.
I couldn’t understand what they were saying.
She asked me something, I didn’t know what she meant or who she thought I was.
She openly talked to me about meth and needles.

I don’t think I will go to anyone’s home again. I don’t think that was smart.

But I won’t let this interaction stop me from packing an extra lunch.

I want to continue to love God and love others.

Lord, please look after Miss Gail and her friends. She could really use your help. Thank you for giving her friends she seems to trust and can look out for her. I pray they feel your call for their lives and may they feel your love.

Help me to find you during this brief encounter I had. May I learn from what you wanted me to see. Amen

What’s Next?

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Finished my last job early today at 11:30, so headed from Paradise Valley to my office in Phoenix. Driving down 32nd street I spot Miss Norma sitting on a curb in a city park parking lot.

As I drive up to her, taking out a curb in my car myself, she stands up to walk away. Can’t say that I blame her considering my relationships with curbs and all, but I call out to her.

“Excuse me.”

Even as fumbling with trying to turn my gps off on my phone, she walks over to me.

“I made an extra lunch today. I was wondering if you would like it?”

Immediately I feel her heart swell.

“Thank you,” she says. “They cut my assistance. They cut my food stamps. I’m living off of $630 a month for rent and that’s about it, but God is still providing.”

She is nothing but skin and bones. I can’t tell how old she is. Life has certainly taken her youth, but she’s still praising God.

“Thank you,” she adds. “What a nice way to start my day off.”

I shake her hand and introduce myself.

Miss Norma, I pray you have a blessed day.

“I already am. Thank you, again.”

One down.

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I drive about a thousand feet from the city park, and I spot an older gentleman wearing a couple of shirts, and a large floppy hat, like what you would see a gardner wear. He’s going through a large trash bin from a trailer park, pulling out plastic bottles and aluminum cans.

Having past the turn in, I circle around the block and head back. I pull up close to the wall so as not to spook him. He doesn’t notice me approach until I’m right in front of him.

Holding up the lunch bag I tell him I made an extra lunch and ask if he would like it. He smiles and nods as he puts his hand out for it.

“Thank you,” he says softly, a whisper really, and high pitch voice that is almost childlike.

At this point I’m wondering if he even understand me because now he is just nodding at me with a gentle grin.

I put my hand up to shake his hand. He extends his arm, and showing me how dirty his gloves are. I squeeze his forearm.

“Thank you,” he says once again.

I get back in my car and proceed to continue driving around the drive to get back out.

Within ten feet I pass two gentlemen who are talking next to their car and then suddenly notice I’m driving the wrong way.

Feeling like a dumb white girl, I stop, make a U-turn and wave back at the two men as I drive pass them once again.

Two down.

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Knowing I have one more lunch to hand out, I take 32nd street all the way down to Washington, instead of going on the freeway. As I’m going under the overpass I notice Mr. Kurt.

Only problem is there is no place for me to pull over. I drive a quarter of a mile to the light and question if I should really pull over now knowing I’d have to walk a quarter of a mile back to him.

I turn right and park in front of the line of cars that have parked along the street to walk into the eatery across the road. I start trekking back to the freeway exit.

As I walk, I notice a makeshift shack tucked closely behind a dirt pile in the open field, with two people moving about.

This must be his home I think, wishing I had another two lunches with me.

As I approach his curb I see he’s holding his sign up to the exiting drivers.

He waves to me.

He is wearing a heavy, black, worn leather jacket and jeans. He has grey, scraggly hair that falls at about his shoulders. He’s rather quite handsome.

As he realizes I’m about to talk to him, he pulls an ear bud out of his left ear.

“How are you?” I ask as I extend my hand.

He takes his cigarette out of his mouth and shakes my hand with his free hand.

“Good, thank you. But very hungry.”

I explain that I was driving down the road and noticed him. Being that I had made an extra lunch today, I thought I would pull over and bring it to him.

“Oh God bless you,” he says.

“He already has,” I reply. “Have a good day.”

I walk back a quarter of a mile to my car.

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As I walk I think to myself, God sees this. He sees where Mr. Kurt lives. He sees how hard some will work to earn a little bit of cash collecting trash. He sees Miss. Norma struggles.

They are his children and he loves them just as much as he loves me. And I’m his favorite, so that’s a whole lot! I’m glad I got to meet them today. I’d like to meet more of them.

So what I’ve learned…

– Pack bananas, not apples. The whole bad teeth thing is real.
– Transcribe my note in Spanish too.
– Get out of my car to interact.
– If they want to talk, listen. If they don’t, don’t take it personally and just walk away.
– This took almost no time to do.

And finally,
– Today I saw the face of God. He’s beautiful and I want to see him again soon and quite often.

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat” – Matthew 25:35

What If?

Tonight I went to my Mat Group. It’s a group where we get together to make sleeping mats, like what we gave out for Christmas, to the homeless. We meet every other Wednesday at a local coffee shop.

There are three of us.

Yes, many people have said they want to come. Several have come every once in awhile. But for the most part it’s just the three of us.

I love this group!

It is more than just a time to do something nice for someone else. Honestly, that’s just the excuse I use for us to get together.

Because it is while we pull out balls of plarn and crochet down one side of a chain, turn and crochet back over it again, we talk.

We talk about the past two weeks. We celebrate our accomplishments. Cry over our disappoints. We fume over our frustrations.

And tonight we talked about our WHAT IFs. What if we did more? What if there is something else we should be doing? What if we could be doing something for someone? And what if we’re not?

What are we suppose to be doing? What is our purpose?

I shared that I’ve been having this idea about packing a lunch to give away to someone on the street. Most of my day is spent in my car and I see these people daily. They just wander. I don’t know where they are going or what they are going to do.

It’s funny because I told them I haven’t yet because I wasn’t sure what I’m suppose to do.

I thought about making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. But WHAT IF it’s not eaten right away? It could get soggy or the bread could go stale.

I could pack an apple. But WHAT IF they have bad teeth and can’t bite into it?

WHAT IF….?

I stopped myself.

WHAT IF I just did it instead of thinking so much about it?

If I make a sandwich, then it means I can’t come home until I’ve given it away. I will make sure I slice the apples.

In fact, I went home tonight and scrounged around in my kitchen looking for what I had.

I packed a snack size baggie with some cinnamon toast crunch. I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. I made just a peanut butter sandwich because I was out of jelly, but I cut it diagonally down the center, because that’s how I like my sandwiches. I had a jolly rancher in my car and a piece of gum on my bathroom counter. I neatly folded a paper towel, since I’m out of napkins, and placed it gently inside, with a note, I hand wrote giving a little bit of hope.

That’s what came out of tonight’s Mat Group, other than the three sleeping mats that are currently in production. In fact, I went ahead and made three.

One for each one of us.

Someone, well, three someones, will be having lunch on God’s dime, tomorrow.

And WHAT IF I didn’t get to see it? WHAT IF it never happened? I’ll write tomorrow to let you know what I might have missed!

Until then, what is your, WHAT IF?

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My Morning Issue

I am seriously, overwhelmed, by the role God has placed me in.

It started with just a pin I found on Pinterest. A pin I discarded because I didn’t think I could really make any impact.

It was to make a sleeping mat for someone who is homeless. Five hundred to seven hundred grocery bags to make one. ONE!

Where would I come up with five to seven hundred bags? To make just one? Really?

Why would I do that?

Who would I really be helping? Sure, ONE person.

I kinda wish I knew the name of that one person, now.

Because I am learning with God’s economy, ONE can multiply into MANY!

Seriously with God, what’s up is down, what’s down is up. One soul is priceless while many good deeds are worthless.

So please don’t say what I do is great. There is only One who is great, and that One is not me. I am only obedient.

Jesus says to do two things, love God and love others. That is all that I am doing. Not only can anyone do that, but everyone should be doing that.

Doing what I am told does not make me great. It makes me faithful.

Faithfulness grows from obedience.

And that one mat has turned into a ministry that is so much bigger than myself. In its year of existence, not I, but my friends and I have made and donated 53 mats. That is more than one mat a week!

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How is that possible? I don’t know! Did I mention it takes five to seven hundred bags FOR ONE? Do you know how long it takes to make just one? It could take awhile, and I promise you, I have not been crocheting a mat a week… for a year!

From the mat ministry, our hat ministry formed.

We donated nearly 400 hats to a shelter in Flagstaff this Thanksgiving, with just a handful of friends and a box full of yarn.

In my garage now, I have enough yarn to make at least another 400, and I didn’t buy any of it!

This is crazy!

Yesterday, I got a call asking if the church we’re donating our mats to, could use the clothes, jackets, food and hygiene products her church has been collecting for a year.

WELL, YEAH!

And now, here I am trying to figure out how I’m gonna fit all our mats in the back of my Expedition with all their stuff?!?

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What a stinkin’ cool problem to have to deal with this morning!

My heart is full and my mind is blown.

What I have learned is loving on one person is enough to grow my faith. I don’t have to feel I need to help many people, just the one God puts in front of me.

The rest will come and my faith will grow.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart  and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” – Mark 12:30-31

This is My Church

This last week, I had this super epiphany of what my church is!

It has taken me awhile to understand exactly the kind of church I’m going to. Honestly, I still don’t understand it completely, but I’m encouraged by it daily.

It’s an upside down church. We are not measured by the number of our Sunday attendance. In fact, there is nothing glamorous about it. New comers are never wowed because of it. If anything they think it’s kind of weird.

Our Sunday service is in our pastor’s house because we don’t want our tithes to go to our mortgage, but rather to our community.

If anything, our new comers are wowed by what we do. We have life groups that meet throughout the week, we serve and build relationships.

Our church is based on three things. Three things Jesus commands us to do.

Did you know, throughout the whole New Testament Jesus tells us only to do three things?

I’m serious. Go check it out.

He commands us to love God and love others (Mark 12:30-31), and to go and make disciples (Matthew 28:19).

That’s it. That’s all. It’s that easy.

No hoops to jump through. No boxes to check off. No T’s that need crossing or I’s that need doting.

Now, there are still things we do because Jesus did them, like baptisms and taking the Lord’s Supper, but other than that it’s pretty simple.

Our pastor is not responsible for our growth in Christ. It is our own responsibility. And then it is also our responsibility to go out and grow others; to disciple. It is not all up to him. It’s up to us.

So what is he responsible for?

Well, growing himself, and growing others, naturally. But he is also the one who empowers us to dare to step beyond our comfort zone.

He enables us with tools to love God and love others.

He keeps us out of the box when we start to cuddle back up inside of it. Often we slide back into the habits of the church traditions we were brought up in, and pushes us to examine what we are doing and why.

Usually, when you think of a pastor, most people generally like them for the most part, without any questions. You have a few preconceived notions of what he is like; holds himself to a higher standard, doesn’t cuss or swear, easy to talk to, compassionate.

While going to a church that breaks with tradition, why wouldn’t it’s pastor do the same?

Generally speaking, people either love or hate him. He’s okay with that. He doesn’t understand why people take him so serious or why people take what he does so personal.

So, the epiphany.

Our mission is to love God and love others and to go and make disciples. Exactly what I stated above.

The epiphany is the click. And I don’t even know if I can describe the click that happened inside my head, but it’s something about understanding how all three things work together.

If I love God and love others and I encourage others to do the same, not once, but over and over and over again; two things are happening.

One, I am growing closer to Christ by my obedience and two, I am discipling. The important part, the part where the click happened to me is in the doing it again and again and again.

I can love God and love others, all day long, everyday, every day of the year. That would allow me to grow closer to God, but it’s not discipling. Discipling is encouraging others to love with me.

Even if it’s different people each time. Even if someone doesn’t love with me next time, it is always and forever, encouraging others to love God and love others.

The fun part. The part I’m responsible for in my church is deciding how I’m going to love God and others and disciple.

Yes, it is an interact church. No spectators. No one sits on the bench. We’re all active players, playing on one team.

I love God by praising him, teaching my children about him, reading his word, praying, sharing my relationship with him to others.

I love others by making hats for a shelter in Flagstaff. I make sleeping mats for the homeless in the valley. I raise funds for pediatric cancer.

But I also love by helping friends organize their classrooms, and help move their houses and sit with them to have a drink at a coffee shop.

And I disciple by inviting my friends to Feed My Starving Children, and to donate to Harvest Compassion Center, and to join my life group and to help with Girls’ Club and…and…and… To love WITH me.

Because my church is about loving God and loving others and discipling. It’s about showing God love by obedience. It’s about loving others by serving and developing relationships. It’s about making disciples by encouraging others to live like Christ…which, here’s the kicker, IS loving God and loving others!

Isn’t that beautiful?

My dear Heavenly Father,
You ARE awesome!
Amen

As if it was My Last

My hands hurt.

I was a freshman in high school when I took my first typing class. I had always been fascinated with typing.

But two weeks into the semester, I broke my left wrist, roller skating. I wasn’t quite sure what the teacher was going to do with me.

Can you believe she pulled out a, Typing for Right Hand, book? I was amazed. I loved it too. Even with one hand I did my best to be finished with my assignments before the rest of my class.

My hands hurt.

One of my very first jobs I’ve ever had was a cashier in a grocery store. So I have to tell you, back in the day, I was pretty quick. Which was good because our managers pushed us to be quicker, faster, more efficient.

It’s what got me through my shift. It was even better when Corina was working because we both had to be the fastest.

Management kept track of your speed too; daily and weekly.

Besides the two of us, I don’t know if any one took their speed as serious.

I remember the first time I had signs of carpal tunnel. I wore a brace on one hand, and wasn’t able to use it. They still stuck me on the Express line and after my shift one night, one of the managers pulled me aside and told me I got a complaint.

A customer wanted to know why a cashier with one hand was put on a register that took such a high volume of customers and was expected to go quickly?

The manager told the customer to turn around and watch me. “She rings up more people and items with one hand than any of my other cashiers do with two.”

My hands hurt.

While working as a cashier, I put myself through school. I started off as a Communication major, but after one semester of classes, at ASU West, I quickly discovered how much I hated it.

All my life, in spite of my passion to learn, school was always a struggle for me. I studied like a straight A student, and despite my Honor Roll status, never once made that dream come true.

But ASL was easy. For the first time in my life, school was simple. I just had to learn a sign once, and never would I forget it. I never had homework, or had to study. I got As on all my tests.

ASL 101 was just suppose to be a break from my “real” education. But I loved it! Imagine my surprise when I found out I could make a career out of it.

It was during my maternity leave with my first son, that I discovered two months in, my hands had started to swell, stiffen and were painful. It wasn’t until I went back to interpreting, that I realized arthritis had settled in.

Oh, how my hands hurt.

I’ve been hard on them my whole life. And they’ve been so good to me, even with all the neglect and abuse I’ve put them through.

And it is now that I’m so upset with myself and so in awe of God.

I want to serve. I want to become the hands and feet of Jesus, just like those who have come before me. I want to breathe light into someone’s darkness. I want to share hope to the hopeless.

In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. – Matthew 5:16

I look at my hands, a gift God has given me. They were given to me with a purpose. They were given me with design. And it saddens me that I’m sure their purpose was not to push myself to be better, or faster, but to aid and to help… and my hands hurt.

As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace: – 1 Peter 4:10

So I push myself everyday. Maybe to make up for all the missed opportunities to care. All the missed opportunities to love. Everyday I use them as if it is my last day on earth, as if it is my last day to serve.

Because what if it is? What if tomorrow I meet my God and he asks me what I did with the gift he gave me?

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. – 1 Corinthians 10:31

All of this, none of this, means anything unless they are working for the Lord.

What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead. – James 2:14-17

So Lord, I lift my hands, my throbbing, aching hands and ask for one more day. Just give me one more day to use them as you have designed them. Let one more person know your grace, find your hope, see your love, through my hands.

In your Son’s holy name. Amen

What Did I Just Do?

So I kinda did something behind my husband back. He may kill me.

I had prayed that God might use me greatly for his kingdom, and to use me how he sees fit.

I’ve already been working with the homeless for a while now, but today I heard God tell me, “That’s easy.”

You know what? He’s right. Anyone could help the homeless. It’s not that much of a sacrifice. Buy an extra few cases of water a week. Cut some bags up that other people have donated, to make into mats. How is crocheting sleeping mats and beanie hats any real sacrifice? I love to crochet.

No, I feel God calling me to do something else and honestly I’m scared to death. I know whatever it is, it’s going to stretch me, push me, and nearly send me over the edge.

I LIVE FOR THAT KIND OF STUFF!

I’ve been following Jesus for too long to accept an “easy” mission like homelessness. Or I should say, how I serve the homeless, is easy. I should be dedicating my time to something that is harder and more challenging to me.

Something that requires me to GROW my faith.

And….

I believe working with children; homeless children, may be it.

Me, the one who never wanted kids. Never desired to be a mom. The one who is still raising five of her six kids.

Oh this is not going to go well, I can assure you. My husband and kids are going to freak out!

Today, I spent three and a half hours sitting next to a room, listening to an infant go through what I think were withdraws, and her nurses talking about lowering which drug, over the next couple of days.

It hurt for her to eat. It hurt for her to lay down. The only time she stopped crying was when someone held her, and even then she wasn’t happy.

It hurt my heart. It broke my soul.

After an agonizing feeding that lasted forever, the baby girl threw up. From the sound of it, it was everywhere. Her nurse remained calmed. She spoke gently to her. I was impressed.

It was during her bath, when an alarm when off outside the infants room.

“Oh no.” I heard the nurse panic for the first time. After a few minutes, she called out to me. She asked if I could help her.

Ah…

Not knowing exactly what to say, or what to do, but knowing I wasn’t going to say no, I got up and entered her room.

“Would you mind just standing here to make sure she doesn’t fall out of the tub?”

I immediately thought, oh this could be bad. If something happens to this baby it would be bad for me, it would be bad for the nurse, and it would be bad for this baby.

“Sure.”

Her nurse wasn’t gone long, but it was much longer than what I was anticipating.

I stood about a foot away from the tub. My eyes glued to her as she and the tub faced away from me; too afraid to touch her. I already knew I wasn’t suppose to be there. I could see her little pink arms and legs move as she kicked the water. The top of her head and eyes were covered by a wash cloth.

She was so little. She was so full of life. And she was so alone. God, where is her mother?

I thought to myself, this isn’t easy.

It bothered me I would be leaving soon. It bothered me I would soon escape this child’s pain, and she wouldn’t. It bothered me that I was going to do it anyway.

Recently, I was invited to participate in a 40 day devotional prayer challenge. Yesterday was day one.

Today I read, “Every act of obedience, no matter how small, makes our heavenly Father proud. Every act of faith — even a faith as small as a mustard seed — puts a smile on His face. Every sacrifice, no matter how insignificant it may seem to us, makes a difference.” – Draw the Circle: The 40 Day Prayer Challenge

So I ask God to use me. I asked him to show me where he wants me. Then I find myself in this situation today.

After the nurse returned I went back to my chair asking God if there was something I was suppose to do.

For today, I was just suppose to sit there and listen; to listen and become aware.

What am I suppose to do now? I don’t know. I told my husband about my day. He flat out told me we were NOT going to adopt this baby.

Well of course not THIS baby, but I don’t know. There was a reason I was were I was today.

He tells me, “You’re just thinking about Delilah.”

“Who?”

“Delilah, who called into the radio station earlier this week to nominate her mother who raised 10 kids and fostered five of them.”

“OH MY GOSH! HE’S WORKING IN YOUR HEART TOO!”

“No he’s not! This is your crazy idea, not mine.”

“But I completely forgot about Delilah.”

In James 1:27 it says, “Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you.”

After today, I feel he may be calling me in this direction. I don’t know, but whatever it is I know it’s going to grab me with both hands and take me and my whole family with it. And where it goes, grows closer to Him. I can feel it!

Why I Worship

Believe it or not, last night was the first time I have ever been to a Christian music concert. Well, actually still haven’t really attended one. I was there as a volunteer for World Vision International. That was my first time too.

It was cool to see so many people worshipping God in one place. The verse that came to me as I stood up high in the upper seating of the Talking Sticks Resort Arena, looking down was,

For the Scriptures say, “‘As surely as I live,’ says the LORD, every knee will bend to me, and every tongue will confess and give praise to God.'” – Romans 14:11.

No, the arena was not sold out, but still there were hundreds of people sitting and standing with their arms held high, not necessarily because the band was good (which of course they all were) but because the message was.

You are not alone. Press into him. You are loved. He has overcome death. You are saved.

For four hours, hands were held high. Sometimes the artist would back away from the mic so you could hear the worship of the crowd. It was surreal.

I remember, years and years ago, seeing commercials for WOW Hits. They are music CDs performed by Christian artists. Now this was before I became a fully committed follower of Jesus, but there was something about those 30 second videos that had me memorized.

For 30 seconds they would show crowds of people on their feet, lifting their hands to Jesus, and praising him. I would sit in my living room and feel compelled to raise my hands too. But never would.

Last night, I felt I to got to experience my own WOW moment. It was amazing.

I have to be honest though. That wasn’t the coolest part of the night.

No, the coolest part was being able to help 23 children become sponsored, through World Vision International.

For fifteen minutes I got to walk up and down the vertical aisle, with my hand held high, holding a picture of a little boy or little girl, and seeing Jesus work in two places, thousands and thousands of miles apart, at the same time.

THAT WAS THE MOST AMAZING PART!

Twenty-three, TWENTY-THREE little kids, and their families, are going be greatly impacted because 23 people committed to serving God’s children, and Jesus let me be apart of it.

I can’t tell you how grateful I am of that. You see, I was blind, but now I see.

There was a time my life when I couldn’t see Jesus. My life was dark. I felt no hope.

But he saved me!

Now I see him every time I open my eyes. I look for him. I hunt for him. I seek him.

And he lets me see him!

He went up to the open coffin, took hold of it, and the men who were carrying it stopped. He said, “Young man, I’m telling you to come back to life!” The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother. – Luke 7:14-15

Jesus is still resurrecting people to this day. I am one of them. And I will search, and seek him to the day I die. Never ever will I allow the darkness to overshadow me again.

My prayer, is in my search, others will follow, and I will guide them to the one who saves.

But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. – Ephesians 2:4-5

I worship him, not because he demands it, but because he is worthy of it. I once was lost, but now I’m found.

Thank you, Jesus!

Faith in God, Who Gives Crazy Ideas

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. – Matthew 5:9

“So, I got this crazy idea”, is usually how most of my projects have started out. They are usually followed up by, “Oh, you can’t do that Kim. It won’t work.” which then of course, THEY DO!

So this, I’ve learned has become the formula for when God is asking me to do something.

It starts off as an idea I think is absolutely not possible, and not only can’t see how it’s going to work; I don’t want to be the one doing it.

“No. No. No. God, what are you going to make me do? ” He pushes me outside my comfort zone, every. single. time. It sucks.

I do not want to host an ice cream social for the community. I do not want to knock on all my neighbors doors, to invite them to a block party. There is no possible way I can collect enough plastic bags and then make sleeping mats for the homeless, that would be enough to serve in any significant way.

All of which are done in the spirit of loving God and loving others (Mark 12:30-31), being a light to the world (Matthew 5:14), and making disciples (Matthew 28:13).

But it’s all about trust, right? Having faith.

Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. – James 1:22

Oh my gosh, Lord, what are you going to make me do now?

He doesn’t always give me the whole plan of how I’m going to pull it off, but he usually always gives me the excitement that comes with it before, rather than after. I see his vision. And I get so excited!

Then, in my excitement, I announce my crazy idea, and time and time again, it is followed up by people telling me it won’t work, or I can’t pull it off, or I’m crazy.

Oh, I know!

They’re not being mean, or unsupportive, they just know me really well. And they’re right! I can’t do any of these crazy ideas. But with God, I KNOW, I can (Matthew 19:26).

He gave me a vision. I can’t see how I will get there, but I can see what it looks like in the end. And I usually have the best time ever!

So, with that…

I GOT A CRAZY IDEA!

How do I know? Well, I’m terrified, for one, and I’ve already heard, “It’s a great idea, Kim. I just don’t know how it’s gonna work. People aren’t going to want to come. Most will not be ready for it.”

I can’t tell you how I got this idea. I can’t really remember when it started to grow, but I know with all my heart it’s something worthy and honoring to God. I can’t, not try.

When I went back to college to earn my degree in Christian Studies, people asked what I was going to do after I graduated. I told them really I had no idea. I was ok with it, because I knew God had a plan but if he had revealed it to me at the time, it would have completely freak me out.

We’ll guess what? I think this may be it!
We are The Peacemakers.

It’s working with moms who have had a child or children with an ex-partner who remarried, and now has another woman who is involved with her child’s life; the step-mom.

Yes, I’m aware that divorce is not biblical. But it is, however something very prevalent in today’s Christian churches. So why instead of throwing the baby out with the bath water, and not talking about this population of parents, as if it is taboo; why not see how we can bring them together in unity, that is God honoring, and show the world the power of Christ’s forgiveness, compassion and love, for the sake of their children?

The goal is to be able to put aside difference, FOR THE CHILDREN. It’s not to become best friends. It’s not to restart a relationship with an ex. But it is to be able to come together to co-parent so their children continue to feel safe, secure and loved by both sets of parents.

Many times, most of the time, probably all of the time, the step mom /ex wife relationship is sabotaged from the beginning because of one thing…the ex.

They may be completely lovely people but already don’t like each other. There is a barrier that immediately goes up. They are the enemy.

They don’t even know each other, and yet they share two very important things that should bring them together, instead of pull them apart; the children, and a relationship with their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

They may not go to the same church, but they may go to a church somewhere. So why then, can’t they work through this, if they claim to be followers of Christ?

It is almost an “ok” thing, to not have a relationship or even to have a bad relationship with an ex and ex’ wife. It is understood. It accepted. It is never talked about at church. It is never addressed, but yet ex-wives and step moms go to church every single week.

For whatever reason, a traditional single family unit is no longer a possibility, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try for the next best thing.

Therefore, I propose we come together for the best interest of the children.

The children, who by the way, are God’s children. Why would he not want this?

So with that, I’ve met with my pastor, and I’ve been interviewing friends; some of which who share children, and some who have counseled moms who do. And I’ve been collecting a lot of great ideas as to what THIS could actually look like.

My next step is to hit my Bible. I know, everything I need to know is already in there. My job is to drive in and find it.

I’m the lucky one. I get a double blessing. Not only in the end, I will be brining people closer to Christ, in the process I get to be closer to him as well! How exciting is that!

However, like any of my crazy ideas, I go into it with a lot of fear and hesitation.

After one of my interviews, I walked to my car and thought to myself, “Why are you doing this? It’s not going to work.”

What if both moms are not Christian? What if one or both are too wounded to focus on the children?  What if the step mom is the “other” woman?

But as quickly as my doubts came, I heard a voice inside me say, “They said the same thing about Girls’ Club”.

And like THAT, my fear went away.

This is going to happen. I don’t know how this is  going to happen, I don’t know when this is going to happen, but I know this is  going to happen.

I have faith in a God who gives crazy ideas, so that the rest of the world can watch and wonder, what is that? 

All for his glory, we will show the world.

And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had. – Acts 2:44

My Calling

Back around August of last year I found this pin on Pinterest on how to make a sleeping mat for the homeless.

It looked really simple, like something I could do, but you need around 700 bags to make just one.

Seven hundred bags is a lot of bags. Where would I come up with 700 bags? And then that would be enough for just one person. How would that make any kind of difference in the homeless community?

I saved the pin, but quickly dismissed it.

Does the story sounding familiar yet? I’ve told it before.

Just before Thanksgiving a girlfriend of mine approached me with an idea she was really excited about. And yes, it was the same idea.

I thought, clearly this is something I’m called to do. I don’t know how we’re going to make any difference but I had this strong desire to be faithful.

So I started making mats. Oh, it wasn’t just me. We had quite a team of people volunteering to help us deliver 20 mats to Church on the Street. Twenty-two, actually.

Well that was four months ago. We don’t have nearly as many people on our team anymore, but we’re still hanging in there. A few weeks ago we delivered, I think nine, mats to Operation Marshmallow for disabled vets.

Our volunteers may have slowed down, but our donation of bags sure hasn’t.

Before Christmas, Target had donated twenty-two thousand bags, to us. Recently they gave us another twenty-four thousand. Then I still have friends of mine, and friends of friends of mine, who are calling me up trying to arrange how to give me their recycled bags. I have more bags than I know what to do with.

I’ve been extremely blessed.

I have so many bags I just can’t keep up with them. Honestly though, I’ve been a little preoccupied, lately. They’ve kind of been on hold, on and off, for a few weeks.

I feel like I’ve been pretty much living my worst nightmare. I have a son, who’s making poor decisions, doing things he shouldn’t be doing and on top of all of that, he’s 18, has a strong possibly of not graduating high school, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.

Oh of course I could try to do something. I could, well try to force. I could use guilt. That was popular while I was growing up. I could bribe, persuade, lie, cheat or be vindictive. Not really sure any of those would work anyway.

Like, I know this is not my fault. I know he is of an age where he can and is expected to make his own, decisions.

It’s just…HE’S DOING IT WRONG!

So I worry, and I fret. And I scream and I cry. And I make mats.

A while back someone asked me how long did I think it takes me to make one mat. I didn’t know at the time, but ten hours.

It takes me ten hours to crochet one mat. It takes longer, really, because I first have to cut the bags, then open the bags, and loop the bags into plarn, before I even consider crocheting then into a mat.

But yeah, it takes me about ten hours to make a mat, considering I have all the plarn I need.

Once upon a time, I was called to be a mom. I wasn’t happy about it. I didn’t ask to be one. And I certainly didn’t think I’d be any good at it.

However, I had always taken this calling very seriously. I did and do my best to raise these kids, the best way I can.

I have read. I have studied. I have asked questions. I have tried things. I have been successful, and have failed at times.

But I have always loved these kids with every fiber of my being.

Right now, I’m having a hard time stepping away from my calling to be his mom. I don’t want to let it go just yet. I don’t feel I’ve completed it properly.

And yet, I feel God telling me, “Kim, you’ve been called to make mats. Make the mats.”

I’ve was up until 11:00 tonight, looping freaking bags. That’s all I can do. With all the chaos I feel my life is in right now, the only thing God has put me in charge of and letting me do, is making these stupid mats.

I will be faithful, though. He asked me to start back in August and I blew him off. But I will be faithful now, because I know He is faithful.

So, I will continue working on these dumb mats, that aren’t really all that dumb, after all.

These mats are going to be handed out to a handful of God’s other sons and daughters. Not that he needs my help, but he’s asking.

So I will continue to care for his sons, while he’s caring for mine. That seems more than fair.

Dear Heavenly Father,
Thank you for knowing me. Thank you for understanding how difficult it is for me to sit and do nothing. Thank you, also, for the opportunity to care for others in your Kingdom.