What lasting deposit did you make today that will make a difference in a week, month, year or decade from now? If we don’t make a conscious effort to lead intentional lives, we will lose our one and only opportunity to make an impact during the short years God has given us on this planet. My “Intentional Living” blogs will not all be the same format. Some are somewhat devotional. Others are more like articles and some become stories. But, they all are intended to help us live more intentional lives – invested in the things that matter most and will make a difference even beyond this lifetime.
The word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword.
~Hebrews 4: 12
Almost daily panic attacks plagued me from age 18 to 23. As my fear perpetuated more fear, I began to lose grip of any sense of control over my life. At times I was convinced I was losing my mind. If the lights in a movie theater or restaurant dimmed very slowly, I sensed the change before I could identify what was happening and began to panic. It was as if all my senses were embellished and I was on a mild hallucinogenic drug – always on the brink of a “bad trip”.
On a few occasions, I honestly believed that I was dying. When the fear transformed to terror, I would put my face into my cupped hands, close my eyes and try to focus on the sound and feel of my breathing. Sensing the air entering my nose and filling my lungs and then hearing it escape through my mouth reminded me that I was still alive. But for how long? I was convinced that I was suffering from some obscure disease that was unknown to doctors. Would they discover it in time?
It was during this dark season that my dentist told me that it was essential to remove all my wisdom teeth. They were crowding out my other teeth and causing them to shift. I started having nightmares about all my teeth falling out and finally gave in to my doctor’s admonitions to schedule a time for oral surgery. He assured me that the nitrous oxide, also known as “laughing gas” would relieve me of all pain and anxiety.
On the day of my procedure, I took a large dose of Valium to calm my nerves and reluctantly sat back in the dental chair. The dentist placed a gas mask over my nose and mouth and instructed me to breathe deeply and slowly. As I did, I immediately began to feel the effects of the gas…and it scared me to death. I held my breath and began to shake my head back and forth indicating I was not willing to proceed. I heard the dentist’s voice, garbled and in slow motion, say “Turrrrn…uppp…the… gasssss”. I watched as if removed from my body, as they held my kicking legs and flailing arms. I gasped for air, yet received a hefty dose of nitrous oxide instead. It was definitely not inducing laughter. The next thing I knew, I was being roused by the dental assistant and informed that the procedure was complete.
The experience had been overwhelming to my fragile psyche and precipitated an avalanche of more intense panic attacks over the months that followed. I could not shake the image of being forced out of consciousness and losing complete control. Now, I needed a daily dose of Valium to give me a few anxiety reduced hours to work or maintain some level of normalcy. Unfortunately, I required an ever increasing amount to get adequate relief. I visited numerous medical doctors hoping they would discover and diagnose my “disease”. They found nothing and recommended that I meet with a psychiatrist to help me unlock the secret to my unraveling life. No answers came. No drugs offered a sufficient reprieve from the life of fright I was living.
The sense that I was dying intensified until one night when I was home all alone, I became absolutely convinced that my end was imminent. It felt like a heavy darkness enshrouded me. I felt desperately alone and powerless. It was as if an unseen presence was taking the place of my dentist and forcing me into oblivion. In that moment of intense fear, I called out to God. “God, what am I going to do? No one has been able to help me. The doctors have no answers. No one knows what’s wrong with me. God…only YOU can help me!”
In my brokenness and pain, I reached out to God. Later, I identified with His Words in Jeremiah 29: 13, 14: “You will seek Me and find Me, when you seek Me with all of your heart. I will be found by you.” That was the beginning of my walk with Christ and my journey out of darkness and into the light. God did not heal me of my panic attacks immediately. Instead, He took me on a journey of becoming “transformed by the renewing of my mind”. Over time, I learned how to replace the lies I believed with truth. Instead of dwelling on the fear that I was losing my mind or dying, I began to meditate on scripture. I drank in the words from 2Timothy 1:7; “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and a sound mind.” They quenched my thirsty soul like a cool drink in the desert. I repeated that verse over and over again – sometimes thirty times a day and it pulled me back from the brink of a panic attack.
Over the next several months, I noticed that my panic attacks came less frequently. And when they did occur, they were less severe. Slowly, but surely, they continued to diminish in frequency and intensity. Within a year, they were completely gone and I began to understand what it means to “be transformed by the renewing of your mind”- Romans 12:2.
When we apply God’s truth to our lives, His living and active word – sharper than any two-edged sword (Hebrews 4:12) becomes a surgical knife that we turn on ourselves to cut out the lies we believe and replace them with His life-changing truth. This powerful and supernatural reality has literally transformed my life many times over the past four decades.
Many years after my not so funny laughing gas experience, I needed to undergo a surgical procedure. I’d never experienced anesthesia that completely knocked me out and I was somewhat anxious given my past experience. I still did not relish letting someone else take control over my body. As the doctor began to give me sedation through my I.V., I had a choice to make. Will I panic and fight this or simply let go? In that moment, I realized that the doctor was not really the one in control – God was. I was His child through the blood of Christ and nothing could separate me from His love. So, I took a deep breath and relaxed into the medication as I imagined my Savior whispering in my ear, “You are safe and complete in Me, Danna. My surgical knife of truth has set you free and you have nothing to fear.”
Birthdays change a lot between the ages of sixteen and sixty. I remember my sixteenth vividly. I’d been counting down the days for months in anticipation. On that very day – June 18, 1968 – I took my driver’s test for my first license and passed. That little card represented a new independence. Daddy, please let me take your car out for a drive with my friends. I promise I’ll be careful. I don’t know where that dent came from, Daddy.
My eighteenth birthday represented freedom. I legally could live on my own – and no one could stop me. Mom, Dad…I’m moving out. I did not have to listen to my parent’s opinions or take their advice. I was an adult. In my quest for freedom, I had no idea that I would face so many unexpected consequences. Mom, can I move back for a few months? The balance between freedom and self-sufficiency was precarious. Dad…I can’t take you trying to control my life – I’m moving out…again. Real life was harder than I’d expected. Mom, can I borrow a little money? I promise I’ll pay you back.
On my twenty-first birthday, I could finally drink alcohol legally and vote. I also got engaged. Unfortunately, all these milestone birthdays did not include the gift I needed above all things – wisdom. I’m getting married! He said he’d marry me if I weighed 120 pounds and now I do! I can’t wait to plan my wedding! Love? Sure, I love him and he loves me. See my ring…he must love me, right?
So many birthdays – so many years. Some were sweet celebrations with family and friends. I have fond memories of cakes, candles and thoughtful gifts. Others were difficult reminders that life is painful. My grandmother’s funeral was on my twenty-fifth birthday. Why is life so short, God? She was only sixty-five. On my thirty-second birthday, I sat alone in my home while my two young daughters visited their father. I was newly divorced and it was the one and only birthday that I spent completely alone. What have I done? What happened to my life? My mom had a mastectomy on my thirty-third birthday. Are we all destined to get cancer in this family? My husband and I had a horrible fight on my forty-second. “Happy birthday to me”, I sobbed pathetically.
I blinked and I was fifty. My oldest daughter missed that celebration. She was in prison. My husband pulled out all the stops and honored me with a lovely dinner party for our closest friends and family. Menopause with its hot flashes and emotional roller coaster made me wonder if life was all downhill from there. Really, God? When someone says I’m “hot” – does that have to mean my face is flushed and I’m dripping sweat?
There was one birthday about thirty-seven years ago that stands out above them all. It totally transformed my life – and it didn’t even fall on June 18th. It was the day that I cried out to God in totally agony. Plagued with unrelenting panic attacks for five years, I was finally at the end of myself. In my brokenness, God revealed His Son to me through the one and only woman in my life that was a Christian. That dear woman shared the gospel with me and I came to a saving faith and was born again – a “birth” day of eternal consequence.
I still made a lot bad choices in the years that followed. Life certainly had its ups and downs. But, God was faithful. His promise that “All things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28) has profound significance for me. While He does not guarantee that all the “good” will be realized this side of Heaven, He has turned many of my life’s ashes into beauty in my lifetime. Everyone in my immediate family knows Christ as their Savior – a true miracle! Both my grown daughters are married to wonderful men and we spend most Sundays together sharing life. My husband Lew and I will celebrate our 27th anniversary in June and we now speak on marriage and surviving infidelity. Another miracle. We are more in love than ever and relish in God’s mercy and grace.
As my sixtieth birthday looms on the horizon – 44 days away as of this writing – I’m looking back at the journey of my messy life and thanking God that He can take all things – even our poor choices as well as the pain and trials of life – and work them together for good. Our time on this earth is so very short – a mere breath. Yet, God can use everything to His glory when we love Him and walk according to his purposes. Nothing is wasted. I love what Oswald Chambers writes in My Utmost for His Highest:
God’s purpose is for this very moment.For the sixty seconds in every minute, and the sixty minutes in every hour.
Sixty seconds, sixty minutes, sixty hours, sixty days, sixty years. They are all but a breath. How will you invest yours? As for me, I will embrace each day He gives me with joy knowing that as long as I have breath, He has me here for a purpose.
Of course love has EVERYTHING to do with marriage. But, love - a verb in action, NOT love - a noun defined by some warm, fuzzy feeling!
As my husband Lew and I prepared to speak at a church event for married couples this week, we knew the scripture and biblical teaching God wanted us to share having experienced firsthand the power of His truth which brought us back from the brink separation many years ago. We have learned that love accurately defined equals sacrifice - Christ being the ultimate example of selfless and sacrificial love.
Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for a friend. ~John 15: 13
As we outlined our message, we decided to separately write a few things that we'd learned over our 27 year marriage (23 of the best years of our lives). We've listed them below and hope that they may offer help and encouragement to other marriages. At the end, we'll issue a couple challenges to couples who want to take their marriage to the "next" level.
DANNA: What I've learned about marriage and my husband:
Marriage at its best is better than I’d ever hoped.
Marriage at its worst is harder and more painful than I could have imagined.
Marriage overall is worth the pain and hard work. Like labor – the contractions of marriage give birth to new beginnings.
My husband is more needy and boy-like at 52 than I’d expected.
My husband at 52 is more loving, supportive and selfless than I deserve.
My husband has my back and my heart.
I can honestly say after almost 27 years: I trust him to be there until death do us part.
LEW: What I've learned about marriage and my wife:
My wife is definitely not the same person I married…and neither am I.
After all these years, she still needs to know she is beautiful, protected and her opinions count.
Marriage is about quantity and quality time.
Marriage is about US, not ME.
Marriage is about seeing my wife through His eyes, not mine.
When I get irritated about something my wife says or does, it’s often an indicator that I am either being selfish, or the behavior is one that I also have.
The worst times in a marriage are NOT when you are actively fighting - it is when neither of you care enough to fight.
What we've DECIDED about our marriage:
There is no “D-word” (divorce) in our marriage.
Our number one marriage manual is the Bible.
There IS a test for marriage- it is called LIFE.
We won’t fail the test unless we choose to walk away…which we won’t!
Our marriage has been far from perfect. God has led us through some very troubled waters – sometimes kicking and screaming. We’ve weathered communication challenges, selfishness, animosity, apathy and even betrayal…and come out saying with all our hearts: “I CHOOSE to love you”! Love is biblically defined as sacrificing one’s own desires and needs for that of another with the ultimate example, Christ’s sacrifice on the cross for us. It is best described in action in 1 Corinthians 13, the “love chapter”. I encourage you to read it this Valentine’s Day week and try to put your love into action despite your marital circumstance or level of happiness.
Marriage Challenge Exercises:
Read 1 Corinthians 13, the “love chapter” verses 4 – 8 together. Then, take each phrase such as “love is kind” and add an action you can take to live this out for your spouse in the weeks and months that follow. Here’s a simple example: “Love is kind even when he leaves his clothes all over the floor”. Get the idea?
Divide a piece of paper into two columns. On one side write: “My spouse’s faults” (that’s the easy part). On the other side, write NEW ways you can respond to those faults in ways that reflect the verses you read in 1Corinthians 13. (From resource #2 below).
Take your spouse on a “memories” tour by intentionally reflecting on some of your most romantic or positively memorable experiences as a couple. You could pick one memory per day and share it in a voicemail, on a post it note, write a card or over dinner.
Before you go to bed each night, ask yourself: “Would I have enjoyed being married to me today?” If the answer is no, do something tomorrow to make it a yes.
Reflect each day on the power of Christ’s sacrificial love and what you would be without it. Pray that through the Holy Spirit you will have the power to love and forgive as Christ loves and forgives you.
Recommended Resources:
What’s It Like to be Married to Me? by Linda Dillow (for women)
If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. ~ John 8:36
“Oh, Mom, I hope they set her free. This is just so heartbreaking.” My 34 year-old daughter, Jamie could relate more than most people watching the news coverage of Amanda Knox’s murder appeal trial – having spent time in prison herself for trafficking drugs across the Mexican border into California. Jamie waited for eighteen excruciating months to receive her sentence wondering if she would get the maximum ten years allowed for her crime.
While in New York together earlier this week, Jamie and I prayed for Amanda and talked about the devastating impact that being imprisoned and fear of the future can have on a young woman. When we heard the news of her not guilty verdict later that evening, we rejoiced.
Jamie is not the same person who called me at midnight on December 1, 2000 crying into the phone and begging me to set bail for her – insisting that she had been “set up”. She had not been, and I did not bail her out. Instead, I prayed that God would bring her to her knees and reveal to her that she had been in prison for many years prior to actually being caught doing something illegal. She was a slave to sin – to an unquenchable desire to acquire things and live a life of excitement that was dangerous and deadening to the soul.
In prison, Jamie came face to face with Jesus Christ in an authentic, life-changing way. She realized that it was by His grace she’d been caught and sent to prison. She knew that he had actually saved her life by pulling her out of the perilous world that had enveloped her in a cloud of deception and deceit. She ended up spending two and a half years in prison, knowing the sentence was fair and quite lenient. At one of my frequent visits, she surprised me saying, “Mom, I used to think you were so corny when you quoted Mother Theresa saying, ‘You don’t know Jesus is all you need, until Jesus is all you have’. I finally understand what you meant.”
As I thought about how Amanda Knox must feel these last few days – experiencing freedom for the first time in four years – it occurred to me that every single one of us is a prisoner for at least part of our lives – until we are truly set free by faith in Jesus Christ. As Amanda cries tears of joy and relishes in the simple joys of life – a real hug, the feel of grass under her toes and the freedom to walk out her front door and go anywhere she chooses – I wonder how soon the overwhelming sense of gratitude she has right now for the simple things once taken for granted will last. Hopefully for a lifetime.
This unsettling thought bounced like a boomerang back to my own soul and convicted me of how I often I neglect to ponder the immensity of the price paid for my freedom from death and hell by the blood of Christ. More devastating than being falsely convicted of a crime and sentenced to life in prison, is the condition of every single human soul before Christ sets him or her free through faith. We are born condemned. John 3:17-18 says, “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son.”
That is the bad news – we are born condemned to a life that ends in death and an eternity separated from God. Understanding the reality of our “walking imprisonment” is the only way we can fully understand and embrace the “good news” of John 3:16: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”
Today, I am intentionally celebrating that Jesus Christ overturned my conviction and redeemed me from my death sentence. I plan to celebrate my freedom anew every day. One of the best ways that I can do that is by fully surrendering my will to His and by sharing the good news with those who are still condemned. Who do you know that does not know Christ? Perhaps you are the one and only person in his or her life that has the only real evidence that will set that captive free – the gospel – the good news that Jesus Christ died for the sins of all mankind. Their conviction is overturned when they realize and believe that He alone is “the way, the truth and the life”.
I remember falling in love with reading at about ten years old when my mom bought me my first Nancy Drew mystery. Yes, I’m that old – for those of you who even know about those books.
As a young adult, I eagerly anticipated summer – full of lazy days – floating in a pool on an air mattress or lying on a beach, reading novels that allowed me to vicariously live someone else’s exciting and very different life.
In my thirties, I devoured scores of books that took me around the world on adventures I would never experience in my “real life”. When I reached my forties, I graduated to a more serious quest of self-improvement. I become more passionate about my faith and thought reading for pleasure was a waste of my precious time. I read piles of non-fiction books by Christian authors on a wide range of subjects that stimulated my mind and expanding my understanding of God.
By fifty, I was writing my own Christian non-fiction books and was involved in producing and co-hosting a daily Christian radio talk show which demanded that I stay on top of current events, culture and become a even stronger student of God’s Word. I forgot how to relax and simply enjoy the treasure of a well-crafted story.
In 2006, my husband, son and I moved across the world – from San Diego, California to Lugano, Switzerland. In the two years that we lived there, I made fourteen round trip flights to San Diego – and I began reading fiction again. There are simply too many hours that require distraction from the reality of being stuck in an airplane with far too little space, with far too many people, for far too many hours. Now, dangerously close to 60, I have found true balance (in many areas of life) and now read voraciously for both pleasure and knowledge.
This year, I received a Kindle as a gift and the world of books has exploded for me in a new and dynamic way. I read while I’m brushing my teeth, drying my hair (a really great diversion to my least favorite chore) and any time I find myself waiting longer that I’d prefer (more than two minutes). I even let the Kindle read to me – the automated voice is a bit annoying – but it’s a really convenient way to get a lot of reading done – especially my non-fiction books. I’ve read at least 15 books so far this year and want to share my top fiction and non-fiction books of the summer.
DEADLINE by Randy Alcorn
Rarely do I watch a movie I really like more than once. It never seems to have the same appeal for me the second time around. And, I’ve never reread a fiction book – that is until this summer. Since I first read Deadline back in 1993, I’ve never forgotten the key characters and the powerful eternal consequences of their life choices that Randy Alcorn so deftly and indelibly imprinted in my mind. So, I loaded Deadline on my Kindle and actually appreciated this author’s depiction of three men’s life and death experiences more than the first time I read it. Despite the fact that the central character, Jake (a newspaper columnist) lives in a slower, less techy world where email and cell phones are a novelty rather than the norm, his quest for the meaning of life and what happens after death is as relevant today as it has been since the day that mankind sinned against a perfect and holy God.
Jake is a liberal agnostic that prides himself in being an objective journalist until he realizes he’s not objective at all. As he agonizes over his own family and inner conflicts, he is simultaneously driven to unravel the mystery of a fatal accident which left him the sole survivor. In the process, he discovers more truth than he’d anticipated.
If you are looking for a page turning summer read that leaves you pondering eternal essentials, you won’t be disappointed. If you’ve ever longed to get a glimpse of what heaven (and even hell) could be like, you will get that in the creative and compelling way that Alcorn blends eternal truth within an intriquing fiction story.
In the years since he wrote Deadline, Randy Alcorn has written many non-fiction books as well. I especially like Money, Possessions and Eternity and Heaven which both included well studied and grounded teaching on heaven and all things eternal. Both books helped me better understand why Randy was able to write such a compelling fiction work dealing with heaven, hell and the short stint we spend on this earth where we all secure our eternal reservation.
I’m so enthralled by the subject and feeling nudged by God that I am currently working on a new retreat topic: Heaven…Can’t Wait!
Next week, I’ll share my favorite non-fiction book. Stay tuned!
Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.” James 4:13-15
Rushing out of the house, coffee cup and briefcase in hand, I was stretching the limits of efficient time management. I was off and running to a business meeting seventy minutes away—and like a real “type A”, I had about sixty minutes to get there.
The southern California freeway traffic was flowing fast for a Monday morning. As I finished a call on my cell phone and set it down, I placed my right hand back on the steering wheel and I noticed an unusual heaviness in my hands. “Whaaaaaat? Oh…Noooooo!” I cried out.
My steering wheel had come completely off the column! My first thought was, I’m going to get hurt today!
I tried in vain to replace the displaced wheel, but it was way too dangerous a task. I quickly discerned any attempt could send me swerving all over the freeway. My heart was pounding like a bass drum in my chest and for a moment it seemed like time was rolling in slooooow mooootion. And, then – snap! It was moving in hyper speed as I realized the gravity of my situation – I had absolutely no control!
In my mind, I imagined putting on the brakes and knew that without any steering ability, I could end up all over the freeway. So, I kept my foot on the gas to avoid being rear-ended by another driver and began to pray. My life and safety were no longer in my power. I cried out to the Lord, “God, I can’t do anything. It’s up to you.”
I began to drift left into the next lane and then another and miraculously did not hit another car. And then, I was in the fast lane. Whoopee! I don’t know where all the cars were for those split seconds. It was as if angels were guiding me across that treacherous route. Perhaps they were.
Still traveling at about fifty miles per hour, my car crossed onto the left shoulder, the front tire barely skimming the concrete safety divider that separated us from the southbound freeway. At that moment, I somehow knew it was time to slam on the brakes. I did and burned about twenty feet of rubber in the process as my car came to a screeching halt. There was not one scratch on me or the car.
Incredulous and trembling, I was suddenly aware of the loud whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of the cars passing me at seventy-plus miles per hour. Dropping the steering wheel into my lap, I raised my shaking hands and yelled, “Hey, you people! Slow down! Don’t you know? You’re really not in control of anything! You’re not going anywhere unless God lets you!”
In my mind, I imagined God saying to me, “That’s right, DANNA – every breath you take, every step you make – is only by my grace”.
God captured my attention that morning. I was shaken by the possibility that it could have been my very last day on earth. All sorts of questions were swimming in my head. Had I lived it to the fullest? Did my life really have purpose or meaning? Was I wasting too much time and energy on things that had little eternal value?
That day, God more than nudged me to take an inventory of my life and I faced the truth. I'd been living out of control and without focus for far too long. Sitting there on the freeway, waiting for the tow truck to arrive, I made a commitment to live a more balanced and intentional life.
In recent years, I've wondered why God didn't give me a great voice so I could have released Carrie Underwood's "Jesus Take the Wheel" song! Seriously, I’ve made some significant strides since that incident many years ago. Yet, like you, I’m still a work in progress. Each time I start to get out ahead of God, He gives me a gentle nudge and I imagine myself sitting in my Abba Daddy’s lap in the car and letting Him take the wheel of my life. And, when He’s driving, the journey is so much more fulfilling!
WHAT IF...I only had 3 days to live?
Perhaps it is the fact that I am only 375 days away from turning 60 - but I've been thinking a lot about how fast life on this earth passes. It seems like the last 25 years flew by. In fact, I still feel like I am 34 years old - but in reality - it is my oldest daughter that is 34. What happend to the years? In the last few months, I find myself thinking about all the things I want to be sure I've said to the people in my life. As I attend memorial services and look at the people sitting in the chairs, I wonder - did the deceased tell them how much they were loved or valued. so, with these things on my mind, I recently wrote a letter to my two grown daugthers, Jamie - 34 and Jill - 30. They have given me permission to share it with you and so I have done that below with a few added comments. I hope it spurs you to consider "the number of your days" and feel compelled to share your heart with those you love!
My beautiful daughters,
If God told me that I only had three days to live, there are so many things I may not have told you – things that are important – that you need to know about life and love and living a meaningful, intentional life. I suppose I haven’t shared all that is on my heart because I think I have plenty of time. But, who knows…I really could die in three days. So – I’m wondering – what haven’t I said?
I want to encourage you to embrace each new day as a gift. None of us know how many we have left. Make intentional deposits into every life God brings across your path – first and foremost, to your family and close friends - but also to people who simply cross your path for a moment. You will never know how many God-inspired connections He has planned - where YOU alone were chosen to touch a life for a greater purpose.
Live life with an open heart of gratitude and awe realizing that the years you spend on planet Earth are really short in the big scheme of things. You both know from personal experience that we live in a difficult world. You’ve been through a lot – we’ve been through a lot together. There is pain, suffering – even evil in this world. We see it on the news every day. Sometimes, it actually invades our personal lives.
I hope you understand that God actually created our world in perfection. Then, He created humans and gave us a free will. I guess there was no point in making us like programmed robots that didn’t have the capacity to reason or choose to love. Without a will – there is no power in our relationships. When we choose to love or obey – then our relationships have real meaning.
Sadly, the first humans chose to rebel against God – to sin – and live life according to their own desires rather than God’s. And ever since, every single one of us has done the same. So sin, evil and selfishness permeate our lives. But, when we realize that our sin separates us from God and that He has provided a way of escape – a way of forgiveness and restoration through sacrificing His Son Jesus – we can be forgiven. And, we can be given eternal life. And by the way, Heaven after death is not the consolation prize. It is the ultimate reward.
Like I’ve said so many times before, this life is simply a speck of sand in the ocean of time. If that is true – and I assure you it is – our bigger focus should be on things that will last for eternity – most importantly – our relationships.
You both know that I love you deeply. I wasn’t the greatest mom when you were little. The divorce from your dad when you were both still so young – I know – it broke your hearts and confused you. In the years that followed, I was often selfish and distracted by my personal goals and then my new marriage. I so wish I could live some of those years over for your sake. But, one thing I learned from my failures is that no matter what mistakes we make – no matter how badly we sin – there is no value in living in shame and regret. If you live in the past, you cannot embrace the present.
Over 35 years ago, I learned that God sent His only Son for the sole purpose of living an absolutely perfect life so He could die and pay the price for all my sins…and all yours. I don’t have to live in shame and regret – though sometimes there are lasting consequences of sin on this side of Heaven. Yet, like many people – I have not always lived my faith in victory. I missed SO much in my striving to get everything out of THIS life. If only, I had spent more time getting to know God and understanding and embracing His incredible promises and passing them on more clearly to you. Well, that’s what I’m doing NOW. But, back to YOU. I am so thankful for the incredible relationship the three of us share today. We love each other deeply – and I can truly say – you are my BEST friends. I am so proud to be your mom.
But, I simply cannot die without knowing that you are absolutely certain that you know Christ as your personal Savior. I know – you’ve said you do. And I want to believe that. But are you absolutely SURE? I ask this of you – and since I’m sharing this letter publically – I ask it over every woman reading: Do you know…absolutely know that you know Jesus Christ personally?
I think there are a lot of people who think they know Christ. Who call themselves Christians or think they have lived a good enough life to make it to Heaven. But, God doesn’t grade on a curve. There is only ONE way to Heaven.
So, whether I die in three days, this very night or not for another thirty years (and you get to change my diapers every day – cause that will make me 89) I must leave you with the one and only thing that is worth really worrying about – the ONLY thing that I fear about death. I fear that death may be a final good bye if you or anyone else I know or love does not know Christ as their personal Savior. We do not need to EVER say “goodbye”. For those who have received the free gift of eternal life by trusting that Jesus Christ died for their sins – we only need to say, “I’ll see you later”, knowing we’ll have eternity to love each other.
So, my beautiful daughters, please…please don’t hate me for sharing this letter publically. It was as much for them – the other women – as it was for you. Because it would break my heart if anyone reading it was to die without knowing Christ.
Jamie, Jill – I love you and look forward to spending eternity with you – in a place that is perfect, where all our tears will ultimately be wiped away – and where we will see each other – and Jesus face to face. And trust me; it will not be a boring existence. This time here on earth is simply our training ground for living an intentional life. God has some pretty cool assignments waiting for us that will bring us great joy – forever!
At first, the sobs sounded as if they were far away and then as if they were being drowned out by rushing water. But the wails of desperation intensified and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Where were the children? Why were they so distraught? Who was going to help them?
Then I saw her – a little girl from Zambia. Her short, nappy hair crusted with scabs and twigs. Her eyes were dull and her lips parched and her bare feet were dusty and swollen. She walked behind the others – the bigger children and the adults. Slowly the line of people moved along the rocky dirt path. The adults were wailing also. Then, I saw it – the coffin – and then another one. They were going to bury their dead. Whose father was it this time? Whose mother had succumbed to the AIDS virus and left her baby, her toddler, her teenager an orphan – another orphan?
Jawadu cried out from Malawi. Beatiful Sanon – an eleven year-old girl from Uganda called my name, but I could not help her. More and more faces of the children danced across my mind. Elivia from Tanzania, and then, Godwine, Tomas and Tando. These are the children I carry heavy in my heart this morning as I wake up in my warm, comfortable bed. I cannot get their faces out of my mind. And I don’t want to.
These are the children I carried in my travel bag to Dallas, Long Beach, Irvine, San Diego and Palm Springs these last two months. These are the fifteen World Vision children that I could not get sponsored over the last 60 days despite the fact that I had shared the need with over 600 women. 600 women. Twenty-five children did get sponsored. For those I am thankful.
I’m sure each child remembers the very day that his or her picture was taken so that someone in America could choose them. I see their faces and imagine each picture calling out to the women looking at their faces on my table, “Choose me. Please, choose me!”
I Confess...In years past, I used to flip the station or change the channel when a World Vision commercial came on. I knew of their good work and I believed in it - but I wanted to listen or watch something entertaining and besides, I figured someone else would surely sponsor a child. Then one day, I felt as if God was telling ME...stop changing the channel. If YOU don't do it, who will? Fast forward: I've had the privilege of taking World Vision child folders with me as I speak around the country (when my hosts allow it) and have seen almost 1000 children sponsored! But these last two years sponsorship has been really low. I understand. My husband has been close to being out of work several times in the last few years. Yet, about $1 per day is a sacrifice that most people really could make...$1 that can actually change the life of a child.
So, here I am - saddened to send back another set of unsponsored child folders. And I'm feeling really passionate about not letting this happen again. In fact, I am reaching out to every person who has chosen to read this far in my rambling blog and asking you to consider budgeting $35 a month to sponsor a child – or perhaps even another child.
The $35 per month that I spend for each of my sponsored children is the best investment I make. 87 cents on every dollar goes directly to the ministry of helping ensure my children have food to eat, clean water, medical care and the opportunity to go to school. I’ve seen World Vision at work in Nicaragua and Africa and am blown away at the heart of the workers. I’ve met three of my sponsored children and watched the joy in their faces and the gratitude of their mothers at having been chosen.
I cannot save all the children, nor can you. But, most of us can make a difference in the life of one or two. The children’s cries call out to my heart. I can see their despair. But, each time one of you picks up a folder on my table or replies to my email with, “I want to sponsor THIS little one”, my heart soars. And the crying is replaced with laughter and hope.
If you would like to sponsor a child, please go to my home page and click the World Vision icon at the bottom of my home page. When we give a "cup of water" in the name of Jesus to one of the "least of these", it is as if we are doing it unto Him. Bless you for having a heart for children in third world countries.
This week has been really busy and a little stressful for me as I juggle multiple priorities. Can you relate? More than once, I've felt my stress levels rising as I respond a little harshly to my 14 year-old son asking me for help with his homework right before bedtime. Some things never change!
Then, a bill arrives that is twice the amount I'd anticipated and I can feel a little twinge in my stomach. Hmmm...are these responses evidence that I'm NOT walking in the Spirit? Probably! In my experience, our negative emotions are often great indicators that we are “walking in the flesh”.
In Philippians 4:6-7, Paul tells us to be anxious for NOTHING, but instead, to pray with a heart of thankfulness. The promise of verse 7 is that the "peace of God which surpasses all understanding will guard our hearts and minds". That little word "but" is Paul's admonishment to shift from walking in the flesh to walking in the Spirit. It is the moment when we choose to set our minds on things above rather than continue to give into stress, anxiousness, fear, anger and a host of other negative emotions that we experience in the flesh.
How do we know if we’re walking in the Spirit? When we walk in the Spirit, we experience the fruit of the Spirit mentioned in Galatians 5: 22-16:
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness,
goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
Oswald Chambers once said, “ We cannot do what only God can do, and He will not do what we can.” God has done His part to give us all we need to live a victorious and powerful life. However, we must do our part to fully realize that power in our day to day lives. Our part is to fill our mind with biblical truth, pray, worship and “set our minds on things above”. We must make a moment to moment willful choice to surrender and abide in Christ.
So, if you are “worried and bothered” about too many things, take a deep breath, look up, redirect your focus to Christ and pray that He will give you His mind to interpret life. Then, find a scripture to dwell on rather than your worries. This walk of faith is one in which we never really “arrive” this side of Heaven. But, walking it with Christ is so much richer and fruitful!
When I became a mom 38 years ago, I had no idea of the height of joys and depths of despair that I would face as a mother. From sports championships to teenage pregnancy – from warm and fuzzy Christmas mornings to visits to federal prison – my journey of motherhood has been memorable. In 1973, I became a mother for the first time when I married a man with a five year-old son. My first daughter Jamie was born in 1977 and my second daughter, Jill was born in 1980. In 1996, we received a most unexpected gift which I will share with you in the story below.
If you are in a season of celebration as a mother, praise God for His goodness. If you are in a season of trials, praise God for His faithfulness. Pray your knees off and lean into God. I can tell you from personal experience, He is in the relationship business. He calls us to love our children – even if that means only connecting through a small glass window. Today, I am best friends with my adult daughters and “Nonni” to the most adorable eight month-old grandson ever (except for your children and grandchildren, of course). And, at 59 years old – I am still parenting a child under 18.
Ten years ago, I wrote the article below and thought this Mother’s Day weekend would be a great time to release it again. I hope it gives you a small dose of encouragement as you celebrate motherhood (being or having a mom) this Sunday.
SHE CHOSE LIFE…SHE CHOSE LOVE
May 2001
I would have never guessed that at 49 years old that my life would be filled with Tonka trucks, toy soldiers, grimy fingers and muddy little sneakers. I hated to admit it, but five years ago I was eagerly anticipating an empty nest. The previous years raising two teenage daughters had taken a toll. Jamie, our oldest daughter had graduated from high school and was still trying to decide on a career path. Jill was a high school sophomore; a little too intellectual for her own good –questioning everything and rationalizing every poor choice to fit her need of the moment. If only I had known. It’s too late for that now. Let me just get on with my story.
But, before I do, I’d like to ask you young mothers a question. When you look into the face of your darling little toddler or pre-school child, what do you see for their future? Do pictures of joyful years in high school or college play across your mind? Do you imagine who they will marry or what grand things they will achieve?
A picture of Jill blowing out her candles on her fourth birthday is etched indelibly in my memories of her childhood. Her long curly hair falling over her shoulders, her little cheeks puffed out as she determinedly attempted to blow out all four candles at once. It was such a sweet memory. And, it was the one that popped into my mind only moments after she shared the most devastating news of her fifteen years … “Mom, I’m pregnant.”
Have you ever wondered what you would think or do at a moment like that? You’ll probably surprise yourself. I saw that picture of Jill in my head and wondered, “What would I have done differently if I’d known my little girl would be pregnant by the time she was fifteen?
She chose life
I lost many of my parental rights the day Jill became pregnant. As a pregnant teen, she had the right to choose an abortion without my consent. She had the right to move out and live on welfare. She had the right to decide what to do with her body, her child and much of her life. And, I thank God daily…SHE CHOSE LIFE!
The weeks and months that followed are now some of my fondest memories with Jill. We shopped for maternity clothes. I drove her each day to a special high school program for pregnant teens. We collected receiving blankets, diapers and every piece of Winnie the Pooh paraphernalia we spotted in malls across the county.
One night, we spent over five hours on the floor of the nursery trying to put a crib together. Jill finally insisted on reading the assembly instructions when our third attempt resulted in another failure. We laughed and inside bittersweet tears cut my heart. Why did it take this to bring us so close again?
Early on I made a decision. I would be grandmother (Nani was the name I chose) only. Jill had decided to keep her baby and the child would be her responsibility. We would provide Jill and her child a home and the necessities to live comfortably. Beyond that, I would give her the same level of support I would give a married daughter living away from home when it came to the direct care of her child. No more, no less.
Jesse Thomas arrived on the scene on September 19, 1996. All of our lives changed forever. Jill took on her new role with more determination and personal responsibility than I could ever have imagined. Baths, feedings, doctor’s visits and burping filled most of her waking hours. And, at 14 days old, Jesse attended high school for the first time. (I knew my grandchild would be a high achiever!) Okay, so it was only the daycare at the high school. I was so proud of both mother and child.
The weeks wore on and Jill wore down. I could see the grueling schedule and reality of life pulling her down. There were no uninterrupted nights of rest. There were no days of freedom, friends and fun. There were simply no free moments. The reality of motherhood hits us all no matter what age. At fifteen, the impact is dramatic. “This is it…this is my life.” I could see it in her eyes. She never said a word. Week after week, I watched Jill sink into an unspoken depression.
A look back Jill was almost five when I remarried. My divorce a year earlier had been exceptionally hard on my older daughter, Jamie. Jill reacted more to her sister’s emotional ups and downs than the separation from seeing her dad on a regular basis.
My new husband, Lew and I decided not to have children together. The girls needed our undivided attention. As I approached my fortieth birthday, we had a moment of doubt. Did we miss an important opportunity? The good thing about vasectomies is that they don’t allow you to charge ahead emotionally without a complete and well thought out plan. A reversal is not a simple or comfortable procedure. And so, we laughed that a baby in our future could only happen through an immaculate conception.
She chose love
Ha! I don’t consider my teenage daughter an immaculate conception. But, God does have a great sense of humor. In January of 1997, God laid an awesome and loving burden on our hearts to adopt Jesse. As I watched Jill sinking into the reality of her new life, God transformed our very souls to warmly embrace Jesse as our child. And that month, Jill made the second most important decision of her life. She chose love.
People will tell you their opinions; even when you don’t ask; even when you don’t want them. The only opinion we wanted was God’s. What did He want for Jesse? What did He want for Jill? Jesse needed security and stability. Jill needed hope and a future. We had the love and means to provide both. Our only caveat was “All or Nothing”. No guardianship would do. Adoption or nothing…no turning back.
I notice there’s a little sticky candy or jelly on my computer keyboard and about 25 toy cars behind my rolling chair. Crunch…oops 24. (He shouldn’t miss that one). Jesse is truly the joy of our lives. Lew (Papa) is his hero. They do “man things” every Saturday like chew gum, burp and go to the “tool” store.
“Mama,” as Jesse calls Jill, visits about once a week. Her role is more like a sister or aunt. He calls her “Mama” because we didn’t want him to realize at seven or eight years old that his sister is really his mother. Slowly, he’s starting to process things. He realizes that his family is a little different. The other kids at preschool call their parents “Mommy and Daddy”. He calls us Nonni and Papa. (Note: At age five, he chose “Mom and Dad” as our new names…no discussion…just a smooth and uncomplicated transition instituted by a deeply secure little boy.)
God assures us “all is well” when Jesse hops between us and grabs both Lew and I affectionately by our necks; his little cheeks pressed into ours and says, “We’re a family!” Who would know that a dirty faced little boy could bring so much joy to a menopausal, superwoman’s life? I am so thankful that my daughter chose life…I am so grateful that she also chose the sacrifice of love.
