Today after service our congregation completely surprised me with a 50th Birthday celebration.
Can't believe I'm there. And can't believe they surprised me.
But both are undeniably true.
I am overwhelmed at their kindness and expressions of support and love.
Tammy and I are most blessed to be serving at Oak Park.
Today I say "thank you" to the Father again for blessing us so tremendously.
And I also say "thank you" to our precious church family.
I love you all.
Monday, December 26, 2011
From Saturday December 16
The months seemed eternal. While the attacks seemed to lessen in their longevity, they were still as frequent and still as terrifying. I did not know what was happening, or why, or if or when this season would ever end.
But I did find His Word worked. That when the fear and the depression overwhelmed me, that when I began to quote His Word, speak it out loud with as much confidence I could generate, the attacks would ease and the depression would lift.
However, after six months of relentless attacks, I had reached the end of my proverbial rope.
That Sunday night the choir sang "Daystar", which I sang the solo. I stood behind the grand piano, literally holding onto the piano to keep from collapsing, singing "Lead me, Lord, I'll follow anywhere You open up the door" - but inside I was screaming: God, I can't do this any more. If you don't help me now I don't now what I am going to do.
I wept uncontrollably. The congregation thought I was anointed. They had no clue as to what was actually taking place.
The bad news is that in the next 12 hours I would hit a new low.
The good news is that in that next 12 hours I would also be completely healed and restored.
I would lose control of my anger of people saying things that did not work.
And in my anger, I would find the healing rebuke of the Father revealing yet another area of which I desperately needed to surrender to Him.
And in that moment of surrender, I found healing.
It wasn't at an altar or in a sanctuary. It was behind a lawnmower in my parents' front yard. But as I mowed out my frustrations I found myself enveloped in His presence for the first time in months. I cannot explain how it felt. But I knew I was "home", that though the journey had been long, it was worth the trip. And though I would never ever want to go through that season again, I will readily admit it was one of the best things that ever happened to me.
I learned that in my flesh there is no good thing (Romans 7:18)
I learned that nothing can separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:38-39)
I learned that when I am faithless He remains faithful (2 Timothy 2:13)
I learned to stop judging books by their covers - that no matter how things may appear, there is always more to everyone's story than what can be seen on the surface.
And today I express my gratitude for His love, His faithfulness, and for His working all things together for my good
But I did find His Word worked. That when the fear and the depression overwhelmed me, that when I began to quote His Word, speak it out loud with as much confidence I could generate, the attacks would ease and the depression would lift.
However, after six months of relentless attacks, I had reached the end of my proverbial rope.
That Sunday night the choir sang "Daystar", which I sang the solo. I stood behind the grand piano, literally holding onto the piano to keep from collapsing, singing "Lead me, Lord, I'll follow anywhere You open up the door" - but inside I was screaming: God, I can't do this any more. If you don't help me now I don't now what I am going to do.
I wept uncontrollably. The congregation thought I was anointed. They had no clue as to what was actually taking place.
The bad news is that in the next 12 hours I would hit a new low.
The good news is that in that next 12 hours I would also be completely healed and restored.
I would lose control of my anger of people saying things that did not work.
And in my anger, I would find the healing rebuke of the Father revealing yet another area of which I desperately needed to surrender to Him.
And in that moment of surrender, I found healing.
It wasn't at an altar or in a sanctuary. It was behind a lawnmower in my parents' front yard. But as I mowed out my frustrations I found myself enveloped in His presence for the first time in months. I cannot explain how it felt. But I knew I was "home", that though the journey had been long, it was worth the trip. And though I would never ever want to go through that season again, I will readily admit it was one of the best things that ever happened to me.
I learned that in my flesh there is no good thing (Romans 7:18)
I learned that nothing can separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:38-39)
I learned that when I am faithless He remains faithful (2 Timothy 2:13)
I learned to stop judging books by their covers - that no matter how things may appear, there is always more to everyone's story than what can be seen on the surface.
And today I express my gratitude for His love, His faithfulness, and for His working all things together for my good
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Friday December 15
I'm backlogged uploading my journaling. Please forgive me.
It was from every aspect a pretty typical day. Nothing exceptional had happened. No additional stress than usual. It was just another day.
I was standing in the doorway of my office in the old church in Bossier carrying on a routine conversation, when suddenly without warning it hit me.
Let me regress and admit that I had not been very merciful regarding depression and anxiety. My arrogant attitude was that "a good prayer meeting would fix that". Now, I believe in the importance of and the power of prayer, but I will admit that I was ignorant at the depth of emotion and despair that overwhelms those dealing with depression and anxiety.
So again, on a normal routine day, suddenly I was overwhelmed with fear and anxiety. I've tried to express how this felt, but my words could not convey what an anxiety attack feels like. I did not know what was happening. The only thing I knew to do was to grab my Bible and head to the area where I usually spent my time of private prayer and devotion.
For the next few hours in a darkened Youth Room, I wept, shook, cried out to God for help, and thought I was absolutely losing my mind. Finally the wave of fear and depression lifted enough for me to function again. I exited that room, still shaken, still feeling the weight of depression and fear, still wondering what on earth was happening.
I wish I could say that this was a random one time occurrence, but that was not the case. For the next six months, several times a day, anxiety would seize me, depression and despair overwhelmed me emotionally. All I knew to do when I felt the wave of fear and darkness coming was to run as fast as I could to be alone and pray, scream, cry out to God until the wave eased enough for me to dry my eyes, gain my composure and function somewhat normally again.
There are two distinct things which stand out to me the most about this particular season.
One was the fear that kept me from sharing with anyone what was happening. I would not tell Tammy, for fear she would leave me. I would not tell my Pastor, for fear that he would fire me. I attempted to tell a friend, but when I realized I could not express what was happening where they could understand, I quickly shut down and withdrew back into my dark, frightful shell.
The other thing that I learned from this season is that there were a lot of things that will "preach" that don't work. It may sound good enough to get a response from the pulpit, but when you're struggling for anything to hold onto, they just don't work. Believe me, I tried every "quick fix" I had ever heard preached. I marched around the walls like Joshua, danced like David, and said the Name of Jesus repeatedly in multiples of seven (God's perfect number, you know). And because I had heard someone preach it somewhere, I even had the audacity to remind God of how good I had been. My fear only intensified when these "quick fixes" did not immediately absolve my fear and depression.
Through all of this I kept on doing ministry, including two weeks of LA District Youth Camps. And yes, through all of this, I would smile, act like all was well, only to run and hide and scream and cry when the waves of anxiety and depression would overtake me. I couldn't feel the presence of God in a 50 mile radius when alone. The only time I could sense His presence was when I was doing ministry. And to be honest, this made me mad. I needed HIM. I was screaming for help. But the only time He seemed to manifest Himself to me was when I was ministering to someone else.
When all my quick fixes didn't work, when my religious cliches and punch lines failed me, I was left feeling exposed and vulnerable. Like peeling layers off an onion, the Father stripped me of my facade, and what I saw was nauseating. For years I had shrouded unforgiveness and bitterness and resentment and pride by Spiritual sounding behaviors and even ministry. Issues I thought I had dealt with exposed as just buried, rotten spiritual and emotional gangrene.
At the time I did not know where the thought came from. Looking back I recognize the Father at work.
But I had this idea to start memorizing the Word. So when the waves of anxiety and depression would come, I would run and hide, but instead of cowering in the darkness screaming in fear, I would begin to walk in circles and just quote the Word.
Tomorrow I'll write about the healing chapter. But let me close today by saying that through all of this I learned two major things:
First, the Word will work. That when I don't know what to say or how to pray, when my thoughts are incoherent and yes, when fear and depression seized me, I could begin to speak into my darkness the same creative Word which turned chaos into majesty, and darkness into beauty in Genesis 1. And the Word works. NO, I'm not talking a quick fix. I'm talking healing and restoration. My personal opinion is this is why God took six days to create the worlds. He didn't need six days, but He did so to show us the creative process of His Word.
Second, I learned the Father loves me. That I don't need to impress Him. He sees my private thoughts and attitudes, and while He will faithfully address those areas which frustrate His purpose in me, the truth is that even through this, He is proving how much He loves me.
Amen.
Father, today I thank You for being my Father. I thank You for the power of Your Word. I thank You for not allow me to bury and ignore the issue which will ultimately strip me of my power and rob me of my potential, and that even in the dark, Your presence is there.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Thursday December 14
Psalm 51:10
Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.
Today I am being intentionally grateful for the many prayers He answered conceding my brother a few years back. My "big brother", W.T., had a heart attack, complete heart failure. He spent weeks in the hospital in Portland, Maine - and then was transferred to Brigham & Women's Hospital in Boston, where he was for several months, qualifying and waiting on a heart transplant.
And as God seems to always do - at the right moment, a heart came available. Several weeks later my brother was finally able to return home.
It has been several years now, and thankfully the hand of the Father continues to rest upon my brother. On a daily basis, I pray blessing, restoration and healing upon him, believing that this is God's good and perfect will for him. (Romans 12:2)
I love you, Bub. I am grateful for you, your influence in my life - and for the Father's blessing upon yours.
Today Father, I thank you for the many prayers You heard and answered in behalf of my brother. I thank You how that You never cease to amaze us, and continually prove to us how much You are for us (Romans 8:31), and how eager You are to show Yourself strong in our behalf (2 Chronicles 16:9)
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Wednesday December 14
It was Christmas. Tammy and I had been dating for over a year. We were talking about forever, though very cautiously I will admit.
It was Christmas. My favorite time of the year, life was as I thought it should be. I was laying on my parents' sofa watching the Christmas tree lights through squinted eyes (I know I'm not the only one who does this) -- :) -- everything was "picture perfect" - or so I thought.
In the next few minutes everything changed. I found out that a vicious lie had been told -- by people and to people who had a whole lot more influence than I had ever hoped to have. What I was accused of was beyond absurd - but it had been told and repeated with absolute authority - even with that righteous sounding tag: "The Lord told me this..."
I am aware that people saying things about you is just part of life. And for the most part I have the attitude that if they're talking about you, then they've chosen a good subject to talk about :).
But when the lies are vicious and told by people of influence and position and with spiritual sounding purpose - it can knock the wind out of your sails, leave you feel vulnerable and violated.
I will not tell you that I responded correctly. That would be a complete lie. I was hurt, angry - downright mad. And to make matters worse, I had to see those who had said these things every time I went to church.
I am grateful that during this time amazing friends came to my defense. The old adage about a friend who is your friend when you're in need -- is a friend indeed -- is so true. There are no words to express how much I continue to love and cherish their friendship.
However, my attitude was horrible. I stood on the platform each service, front row center of the choir - staring them down, glaring - and hate to say it, if they had dropped dead I probably would have rejoiced right there. I was right, they were wrong, and they needed to pay for what they had done.
By experience I can tell you that hate will consume you before you know it. Hate and bitterness will wrap you like a shroud and bind you more than any straightjacket. And worst of all, it will isolate you from the presence of the One whose love and forgiveness and healing you are so desperately needing.
One Sunday night - standing in the choir staring down my accusers - and feeling so lonely and isolate from the presence of God -- I do not remember the song the choir was singing, but in the middle of the song, the Father brought back the lyrics of another song:
At that moment I knew I had to make a decision. I could hold onto my justifiable anger and hatred - and as a result continue to be bound and isolated from the presence of God. OR I could release the anger and the hurt into the faithful hands of the Father and choose to worship Him -- because regardless of who had done what against me He had never failed me or let me down.
Fortunately I chose the second option. I began to worship, releasing everything I had been holding onto. And immediately, His presence swept over me. I felt the embrace of everlasting arms, and the confidence in His absolute sovereignty.
It was not overnight, but in time I saw the Father transform that ugly chapter into astounding blessing. Those who had hurt me so deeply became some of my strongest supporters. As much as I had been wounded by them, they became the source of great blessing and strength. Only God.
Father, I thank You for the power of forgiveness, that as I chose to forgive those who have offended me, in my being forgiving, I find your forgiveness.
I thank You for the power of worship and praise. That no matter how things look, because You inhabit my praise, I can always encourage myself in the Lord (Psalm 22:3; 1 Samuel 30:6)
Thank You for turning mourning into dancing and sorrow into Joy over and over and over again. (Psalm 30:11)
Today, I worship You because You are YOU :)
It was Christmas. My favorite time of the year, life was as I thought it should be. I was laying on my parents' sofa watching the Christmas tree lights through squinted eyes (I know I'm not the only one who does this) -- :) -- everything was "picture perfect" - or so I thought.
In the next few minutes everything changed. I found out that a vicious lie had been told -- by people and to people who had a whole lot more influence than I had ever hoped to have. What I was accused of was beyond absurd - but it had been told and repeated with absolute authority - even with that righteous sounding tag: "The Lord told me this..."
I am aware that people saying things about you is just part of life. And for the most part I have the attitude that if they're talking about you, then they've chosen a good subject to talk about :).
But when the lies are vicious and told by people of influence and position and with spiritual sounding purpose - it can knock the wind out of your sails, leave you feel vulnerable and violated.
I will not tell you that I responded correctly. That would be a complete lie. I was hurt, angry - downright mad. And to make matters worse, I had to see those who had said these things every time I went to church.
I am grateful that during this time amazing friends came to my defense. The old adage about a friend who is your friend when you're in need -- is a friend indeed -- is so true. There are no words to express how much I continue to love and cherish their friendship.
However, my attitude was horrible. I stood on the platform each service, front row center of the choir - staring them down, glaring - and hate to say it, if they had dropped dead I probably would have rejoiced right there. I was right, they were wrong, and they needed to pay for what they had done.
By experience I can tell you that hate will consume you before you know it. Hate and bitterness will wrap you like a shroud and bind you more than any straightjacket. And worst of all, it will isolate you from the presence of the One whose love and forgiveness and healing you are so desperately needing.
One Sunday night - standing in the choir staring down my accusers - and feeling so lonely and isolate from the presence of God -- I do not remember the song the choir was singing, but in the middle of the song, the Father brought back the lyrics of another song:
Praise the Lord, He can work through those who praise Him
Praise the Lord, for our God inhabits praise
Praise the Lord, for the chains that seem to bind you
Serve only to remind you
They drop powerless behind you
When you praise Him!
At that moment I knew I had to make a decision. I could hold onto my justifiable anger and hatred - and as a result continue to be bound and isolated from the presence of God. OR I could release the anger and the hurt into the faithful hands of the Father and choose to worship Him -- because regardless of who had done what against me He had never failed me or let me down.
Fortunately I chose the second option. I began to worship, releasing everything I had been holding onto. And immediately, His presence swept over me. I felt the embrace of everlasting arms, and the confidence in His absolute sovereignty.
It was not overnight, but in time I saw the Father transform that ugly chapter into astounding blessing. Those who had hurt me so deeply became some of my strongest supporters. As much as I had been wounded by them, they became the source of great blessing and strength. Only God.
Father, I thank You for the power of forgiveness, that as I chose to forgive those who have offended me, in my being forgiving, I find your forgiveness.
I thank You for the power of worship and praise. That no matter how things look, because You inhabit my praise, I can always encourage myself in the Lord (Psalm 22:3; 1 Samuel 30:6)
Thank You for turning mourning into dancing and sorrow into Joy over and over and over again. (Psalm 30:11)
Today, I worship You because You are YOU :)
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Tuesday, December 13
I guess all this remembering about singing as a child has caused other memories to surface and to dominate my moments of intentional gratitude.
I was just 4 when because my dad's job transferred him, our family moved from the family farm 60 miles away. This meant a whole new life for our family - new neighbors, schools, friends -- new church.
However, you can't detach yourself from your roots. That sandy hill on the farm and the millions of warm memories of extended family still has a connection deep within us - for which I am sincerely grateful.
It was "back in Haynesville" - that when I was around the age of 5 that Dad stood me behind the pulpit in one of those horrible wooden folding chairs, for me to sing in church for the very first time. He and I sang the old Gaither hymn "He Touched Me". I think I remember the instability of that chair more than anything else :)
It was my Dad's way of passing on his passion for worship to us, to prompt us to use our gifts, whatever they may be - to entertain the presence of God and to lead others into worship as well.
I know you'll find it difficult to believe, but as a child I just sang ALL the time :)
However my favorite place to sing was in the backyard swing. Swinging and Singing just seemed to go together. And the best part was that the swing was just outside my sisters' window. So not only did I enjoy singing, I especially enjoyed serenading them (even though they were not appreciative of my early morning encore performances :)
It was here in the backyard swing that around the age of 8, I sung my way into the presence of God. Sensing His presence was nothing new. Singing in the backyard swing was routine for me. But feeling His presence overwhelm me while singing in the backyard swing - that was extraordinary.
I remember getting out of the swing and began walking around the backyard - not real sure what I was suppose to do. If I had been in church or during a family prayer time, I would have known how to respond. But here in the backyard, alone - I was so unsure of what my proper response was suppose to be.
I walked over to Dad's BBQ pit - placed my hands on the ledge - and suddenly I experienced something I had never known before. This may sound sensational or even far-fetched for some, but in that moment the Father allowed me to "see" myself ministering before a large congregation in a building I had never seen. It would be another 13 years before I would accept my call into ministry, but in that moment, the Father allowed me a glimpse of the plans He had for me.
The truth is that I have yet to see the fulfillment of that glimpse. However, I am confident that He who began the good work in me is faithful to complete it (Philippians 1:6) At times when I am overwhelmed with the "whys" and the "hows" of my current chapter, the Father takes me back to that backyard moment and reminds me that He is still perfecting what concerns me (Psalm 138:8) and that even though I do not know how or when, He will fulfill His good pleasure in me (Philippians 2:13)
Today, Father I thank You for that backyard glimpse into my destiny.
I thank You for being faithful in keeping all Your promises. I thank You that according to 2 Corinthians 1:20 that all Your promises are YES, and today I speak the AMEN in response to Your faithful promises in my own life.
I was just 4 when because my dad's job transferred him, our family moved from the family farm 60 miles away. This meant a whole new life for our family - new neighbors, schools, friends -- new church.
However, you can't detach yourself from your roots. That sandy hill on the farm and the millions of warm memories of extended family still has a connection deep within us - for which I am sincerely grateful.
It was "back in Haynesville" - that when I was around the age of 5 that Dad stood me behind the pulpit in one of those horrible wooden folding chairs, for me to sing in church for the very first time. He and I sang the old Gaither hymn "He Touched Me". I think I remember the instability of that chair more than anything else :)
It was my Dad's way of passing on his passion for worship to us, to prompt us to use our gifts, whatever they may be - to entertain the presence of God and to lead others into worship as well.
I know you'll find it difficult to believe, but as a child I just sang ALL the time :)
However my favorite place to sing was in the backyard swing. Swinging and Singing just seemed to go together. And the best part was that the swing was just outside my sisters' window. So not only did I enjoy singing, I especially enjoyed serenading them (even though they were not appreciative of my early morning encore performances :)
It was here in the backyard swing that around the age of 8, I sung my way into the presence of God. Sensing His presence was nothing new. Singing in the backyard swing was routine for me. But feeling His presence overwhelm me while singing in the backyard swing - that was extraordinary.
I remember getting out of the swing and began walking around the backyard - not real sure what I was suppose to do. If I had been in church or during a family prayer time, I would have known how to respond. But here in the backyard, alone - I was so unsure of what my proper response was suppose to be.
I walked over to Dad's BBQ pit - placed my hands on the ledge - and suddenly I experienced something I had never known before. This may sound sensational or even far-fetched for some, but in that moment the Father allowed me to "see" myself ministering before a large congregation in a building I had never seen. It would be another 13 years before I would accept my call into ministry, but in that moment, the Father allowed me a glimpse of the plans He had for me.
The truth is that I have yet to see the fulfillment of that glimpse. However, I am confident that He who began the good work in me is faithful to complete it (Philippians 1:6) At times when I am overwhelmed with the "whys" and the "hows" of my current chapter, the Father takes me back to that backyard moment and reminds me that He is still perfecting what concerns me (Psalm 138:8) and that even though I do not know how or when, He will fulfill His good pleasure in me (Philippians 2:13)
Today, Father I thank You for that backyard glimpse into my destiny.
I thank You for being faithful in keeping all Your promises. I thank You that according to 2 Corinthians 1:20 that all Your promises are YES, and today I speak the AMEN in response to Your faithful promises in my own life.
For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord,
"plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future.
Jeremiah 29:11
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Monday, December 12
I spent today with three families at two different hospitals. Facing the unknown, the unexplained and the unexpected is never easy for anyone. However, I have to admit that I asked "WHY" did these families have to face these chapters during the Christmas Season.
The answer is simply - this is what Christmas is all about.
Christmas is not about shiny packages and tinsel and nostalgic warm and fuzzy feelings.
Since that first night so long ago when Grace and Mercy came into our world through the backdoor of a stable -- Christmas has always been about bringing peace into confusion, hope into chaos, love into despair, light into darkness, and His presence into our present.
If Christmas doesn't work in the face of the unknown, the unexplained and the unexpected, Christmas doesn't work. But the good news is that because God became Emmanuel, Christmas does work. Christmas means that God is on location, God is WITH US right now, right where we are -- in the big middle of whatever we may be going through.
Merry Christmas.
Today, Father, I thank You that when I don't have answers to the questions overwhelming the hearts and minds of those around me - I thank you that I have YOU. That You are the only answer we need.
Thank You for coming to be WITH US.
Amen!
The answer is simply - this is what Christmas is all about.
Christmas is not about shiny packages and tinsel and nostalgic warm and fuzzy feelings.
Since that first night so long ago when Grace and Mercy came into our world through the backdoor of a stable -- Christmas has always been about bringing peace into confusion, hope into chaos, love into despair, light into darkness, and His presence into our present.
If Christmas doesn't work in the face of the unknown, the unexplained and the unexpected, Christmas doesn't work. But the good news is that because God became Emmanuel, Christmas does work. Christmas means that God is on location, God is WITH US right now, right where we are -- in the big middle of whatever we may be going through.
Merry Christmas.
Today, Father, I thank You that when I don't have answers to the questions overwhelming the hearts and minds of those around me - I thank you that I have YOU. That You are the only answer we need.
Thank You for coming to be WITH US.
Amen!
Sunday December 11
Today I sat enthralled at our King's Kids production of Aloha Christmas. We at Oak Park are blessed with people with passion for ministry. Laura Cobb and her excellent team did an amazing job, and our kids, well, they were beyond spectacular!!
I am convinced to teach our children to worship, how to personally entertain the presence of God, it will become one of the greatest assets of their own spiritual journey.
As I wrote last week, growing up, singing and worship was not a "Sunday thing" at our home. We spent hours around the piano. My sisters and I did our best to duplicate the sound of our favorite Rambos songs. I won't pretend that every moment was super spiritual or religiously pious - far from it. There were those times where we would be beyond silly, laugh until we couldn't breathe. There were also those times when standing still and rehearsing was the last thing I wanted to do as a hyperactive kid. Though there has never been a clinical diagnosis. apparently I have always had a bit of an attention deficit issue. (Notice, I did not say "disorder", for I am fearfully and wonderfully made :) - Psalm 139:14)
Look, a squirrel... :)
However, there were those times when in singing around the piano, in a moment of least expectation, the presence of God would sweep over us.
Today I'm remembering a specific moment. I don't have a date to match with the memory. I was around 10, maybe 11. That'd make both of my sisters teenagers. We were rehearsing what would become our favorite song (of course a Dottie Rambo composition) "The Good Lord Walks With Me"
It was during the second verse that it happened. There in our unsuspecting moment, the three of us singing around the old upright piano which still graces my parents' home - it happened.
There at that moment. Not in a church. Not in a worship service. Just three young people/children singing around an old upright piano in their parent's living room -- with a congregation of only One -- there His presence swept in and embraced the three of us letting us know that it was more than a song, more than incredibly written lyrics. It was a truth we could embrace and build our lives upon: the Lord is good, and our good Lord will never leave us or abandon us.
Carolyn, Sharon - when you read my blog today :) - I pray you remember this moment with me - and with this memory, I pray that once again you would feel His arms embrace you, assuring you as He has so many times before, that regardless of what we face in whatever chapter we are currently in - He is still good, and our good Lord still walks beside us every step we take. He is still going before us to prepare the path we are taking. In more ways than we can imagine, He is currently, actively involved in the details of our present moment, working everything together for our good.
Thank you Father for being a good God.
Thank you Father for being a "very present" God.
I am convinced to teach our children to worship, how to personally entertain the presence of God, it will become one of the greatest assets of their own spiritual journey.
As I wrote last week, growing up, singing and worship was not a "Sunday thing" at our home. We spent hours around the piano. My sisters and I did our best to duplicate the sound of our favorite Rambos songs. I won't pretend that every moment was super spiritual or religiously pious - far from it. There were those times where we would be beyond silly, laugh until we couldn't breathe. There were also those times when standing still and rehearsing was the last thing I wanted to do as a hyperactive kid. Though there has never been a clinical diagnosis. apparently I have always had a bit of an attention deficit issue. (Notice, I did not say "disorder", for I am fearfully and wonderfully made :) - Psalm 139:14)
Look, a squirrel... :)
However, there were those times when in singing around the piano, in a moment of least expectation, the presence of God would sweep over us.
Today I'm remembering a specific moment. I don't have a date to match with the memory. I was around 10, maybe 11. That'd make both of my sisters teenagers. We were rehearsing what would become our favorite song (of course a Dottie Rambo composition) "The Good Lord Walks With Me"
If I could count the tiny flakes of snow
That drift across the heavens high and touch the earth below
If I could count the little rain drops that fall and touch the sea
Then I could count the many times the Lord has walked with me,
The good Lord walks with me.
He hushed the mighty sea to sleep
Calms the waters rough and deep
Leads the way when the road is steep
And He walks along with me,
The good Lord walks with me.
It was during the second verse that it happened. There in our unsuspecting moment, the three of us singing around the old upright piano which still graces my parents' home - it happened.
His searching eyes look down the winding road
He goes before to smooth my way and shares my heaving load...
There at that moment. Not in a church. Not in a worship service. Just three young people/children singing around an old upright piano in their parent's living room -- with a congregation of only One -- there His presence swept in and embraced the three of us letting us know that it was more than a song, more than incredibly written lyrics. It was a truth we could embrace and build our lives upon: the Lord is good, and our good Lord will never leave us or abandon us.
Carolyn, Sharon - when you read my blog today :) - I pray you remember this moment with me - and with this memory, I pray that once again you would feel His arms embrace you, assuring you as He has so many times before, that regardless of what we face in whatever chapter we are currently in - He is still good, and our good Lord still walks beside us every step we take. He is still going before us to prepare the path we are taking. In more ways than we can imagine, He is currently, actively involved in the details of our present moment, working everything together for our good.
Thank you Father for being a good God.
Thank you Father for being a "very present" God.
And He walks with me
And He talks with me
And He tells me I am His own...
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Saturday December 10
THE REFLECTION
Journal Entry from April 1998
My journey has been long and at times tiring,
May face wears the marks of travel,
The dust of the road mingled with the sweat of my brow.
Caught a glimpse today of myself, my reflection in a roadside pool of water,
The sight of the wear of the journey took me by surprise,
At once I realized the changes that time and travel have brought.
How well I remember how it was when I first began on my journey,
My face filled with fresh excitement, my feet swift with momentum,
The heart could contain no more desire to make the journey a grand success.
I was so thrilled to have been called, accepted, anointed, commissioned,
Just doing the Will of the Father was all I wanted to do.
How painful the first disappointment.
How well I remember that ache when the reality of the injury,
A careless word and act by uncaring individuals, hit home.
I didn’t start this journey with thoughts of pain and struggle.
My only vision was that of power, zeal, and purpose.
My heart broke into, my spirit nearly failed,
When others who traveled with me, slipped, collapsed, fell.
My mind ran wild with questions, my heart trembled with fear,
Wondering “if they couldn’t make it, how will I?”
I esteemed their strength and ability more than mine.
Their calling and anointing was something I had sought to emulate.
The next few steps on the road were so very difficult.
Still pulling on me was my desire to do the Father’s perfect Will,
Yet, the devastation of their defeat overwhelmed me.
Questions, my God, didn’t I have questions.
You know me, I always wanted to know what was going on,
Especially when you were not explaining the “whys”.
Through my pain, I did not see the oasis of ministry and healing
You had planned in my life.
Giants, legends, heros, stopped by my convalescent oasis
To minister the healing to the hurts, to bind the wounds of my spirit.
Only You could have orchestrated all of that for me.
Before I was confident that I was ready to travel again,
You assured me that You still knew what You were doing,
And the road and the journey resumed in my life.
So quickly the energy, the desire, the excitement returned.
Once again, I believed that I could make a difference.
Once again, I dreamed. Oh, I dreamed.
Those dreams — Oh, God — do you remember those dreams?
All of the questions had not been answered,
But hope had been restored, My confidence of your being in control!
With this renewed strength, hope, and confidence,
I traveled swiftly - with the dreams of greater things driving me on.
Never would I have confessed that I was so naive to think that pain forsaken me forever.
Yet, looking back, I have to admit that the thought of its return was far from me.
There was so much power — each day brought new blessings from Your hand.
Pain — yeah, I had felt that, but surely that was a chapter closed in my life.
Naive? A thousand times yes.
Why is it that purpose and pain seem to go hand in hand?
Why is it that power and struggle always seem to come in one package?
I know the bitter sweet taste of trial turned blessing,
Nightmare turned Morning, and difficulty transformed to triumph.
The Wise Book states “So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don't fall!”
Looking back, I think I’ve learned what You really meant by that.
Could it mean - just when you think everything is going to be forever grand,
Be careful, don’t let the next trial buckle your knees, and knock you off balance”?
The journey has brought me through dark valleys,
Places where the dearest things in life seemed threatened.
I’ve stood by the bed side with a smile on my face, but a panic in my heart.
Though I spoke the words of calm assurance, my heart screamed “HELP!”
Yet, as You, eternally are, I walked from that place on my journey
With renewed strength, the bitter sweet taste of trial turned blessing in my mouth,
Speaking frequently of how good and merciful You had been again.
By now I should have learned this well.
Why am I still learning? Better yet, why am I still forgetting?
The loneliest moment in my travel has been when it seemed You were not there.
Panic is too mild of an expression to portray how I felt.
There were no calm words of assurance from my lips.
My entire being, body, heart, spirit, and mind vocalized my terror and questions.
Looking back, I have to admit that in my haste and frustration,
there were things spoken and felt that perhaps would have been better left unsaid.
Thank You for being who You are— and for not being like me.
Thank You for listening to my raging, my incoherent irrational behavior,
Though I never knew exactly where You were,
Looking back, Your presence was very evident.
You just manifested Yourself in ways unfamiliar to me.
Though it seemed the night was eternally unending,
True to Your motis operendi, the morning light broke through again.
Once again trial turned blessing, Nightmare turned Morning,
Difficulty transformed to triumph, Fear gave way to calm assurance,
Questions faded into Gratitude. Only You.....
The wayside reflection today still alarms me, I have to confess.
Is the heart that heavy, the spirit that ragged, the scars that evident?
Where is that young energetic man I used to be,
With a heart full of desire and my mind filled with dreams ---
Oh God, those dreams!
Okay, God, I’m ready again. Strip away the plastic from my face,
That false pretense of “me” I seek to portray to those around me.
The thought of Your doing that again, isn’t what I prefer,
But my Spirit is crying out for renewal, restoration, healing.
Wash over my spirit, oh, to God for the purity of the Anointing to cleanse me
From my cynical attitude, my questionable spirit, my distrusting heart,
The callouses that limit my sensitivity, the weariness that drains my strength,
The weights that I have picked up along the way, The thoughts that plague my mind.
Remember how it was when I first began on my journey?
I long to see that face filled with fresh excitement,
The wind in my face as I ran, my feet swift with momentum.
My heart is running too low on the desire to make the journey a grand success.
Thrill me again with the calling, the anointing, Your calling, Your commission,
Wash my eyes so I can see clearly the Will of the Father again.
I’m not complaining about the pain, the disappointments,
Not even about the injuries inflicted by others along the way.
I understand that this journey has it’s share of pain and struggle.
But this reality cannot strip me of my vision power, zeal, and purpose.
Make me holy again. Not through rules and commandments,
But make me holy, acceptable, through Your anointing!
Consume my thoughts, purge my spirit, my heart, my attitude.
So fill me with Your presence and assurance and holiness,
That once again I feel that stamp of Your approval,
That once again I dream those dreams again.
Oh, God, those dreams....
Dreams of power, purpose, conquering, victory,
Exploits, promise, the miraculous, the extra-ordinary.
Dreams of sacrifice, surrender, commitment, mission, Commission,
Long nights alone in Your presence listening to Your voice.
You have led me, for many years. Again I pray,
Lead me in the paths of Righteousness, for Your Name’s sake.
Your Kingdom, Your Righteousness, I place it continually before me.
It is what I will continually seek after.
Your Will,
Your Purpose,
Your Kingdom,
Your Power, and Father, yes, for Your Glory!
Today, I rebuild an old altar.
Today, I place a new sacrifice upon an old commitment.
Already, the vision is returning, I can feel the strength rise anew,
And already I can taste that familiar taste of trial turned blessing.
And, Lord, that’s where You’ve been standing all this time?
What’s that again? I understand.
This moment is something You’ve been waiting for — for way too long.
Your heart has broken watching me struggle, my weariness, my frustrations.
All the while waiting for me to recognize how desperately I needed You again.
Seems I remember You saying to other travelers on this road
“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock.
If anyone hears my voice and opens the door,
I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.
If you’ll listen to me, I can give you wealth with eternal purpose,
I will replace you rags, worn and filthy, with white fresh robes of purity,
And I will anoint your eyes with my healing balm so that you can see clearly once more.”
Today those words hit home. Your priorities, what You value,
Clothe me in purity and new robes of anointing,
Wash my eyes, heal my vision, let the light of Your Spirit shine through the windows of my soul.
Let me see clearly — let me see what once I only dreamed of.
Let me dream once more:
Those dreams, O God, those dreams.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Friday December 9
First of all, I have to say "thanks" for my mother. Today on her 84th birthday, she was up early, busying herself around the house, preparing breakfast for Dad and me. Even though she isn't feeling well, there's a pie in the oven, because, as she says, "David needs to have a pie" :) - Yes, at almost 50 I still admit I enjoy being spoiled :)
I've written about my gratitude for my parents. I am so appreciative for their passion for Christ and for being authentic Christians.
Dad has always loved to worship. For most of my life Dad was what we would now call "the worship leader". Of course, back then we just called him the "song leader". However, leading singing at church was only a tiny part of where or what my Dad sang.
Yesterday he and I ran to town to get something, and off and on during the drive Dad would break out into some chorus of some song from his past. At almost 89 it amazes me at how he can bring back to mind the lyrics and tune of songs he says he hasn't heard since his childhood. There are those random moments when Dad will sing his "old maid song" to some unsuspecting person, but the vast majority of the time the songs Dad breaks into are all songs of praise.
As I was driving him around town yesterday, one of the songs he began to sing was
"Many things about tomorrow, I don't seem to understand.
But I know who holds tomorrow, and I know who holds my hand..."
Amen!
Tonight Dad will leading "Beautiful Star of Bethlehem" during the Christmas program at their church. It's been years since Dad has led any songs during services, and believe me, he is as excited as a child at Christmas to be singing tonight.
I guess I've always known it, but this week I am aware that my love for music and especially worshiping with singing comes from a dad who has worshiped with singing all my life. I am grateful to the Father for givng me a dad to example for me that real men worship. Real men not only love Jesus as the bumper sticker says - but real men aren't ashamed to express their love for Jesus either.
I've written about my gratitude for my parents. I am so appreciative for their passion for Christ and for being authentic Christians.
Dad has always loved to worship. For most of my life Dad was what we would now call "the worship leader". Of course, back then we just called him the "song leader". However, leading singing at church was only a tiny part of where or what my Dad sang.
Yesterday he and I ran to town to get something, and off and on during the drive Dad would break out into some chorus of some song from his past. At almost 89 it amazes me at how he can bring back to mind the lyrics and tune of songs he says he hasn't heard since his childhood. There are those random moments when Dad will sing his "old maid song" to some unsuspecting person, but the vast majority of the time the songs Dad breaks into are all songs of praise.
As I was driving him around town yesterday, one of the songs he began to sing was
"Many things about tomorrow, I don't seem to understand.
But I know who holds tomorrow, and I know who holds my hand..."
Amen!
Tonight Dad will leading "Beautiful Star of Bethlehem" during the Christmas program at their church. It's been years since Dad has led any songs during services, and believe me, he is as excited as a child at Christmas to be singing tonight.
I guess I've always known it, but this week I am aware that my love for music and especially worshiping with singing comes from a dad who has worshiped with singing all my life. I am grateful to the Father for givng me a dad to example for me that real men worship. Real men not only love Jesus as the bumper sticker says - but real men aren't ashamed to express their love for Jesus either.
Thursday December 8
My senior year in high school I was voted "the quietest person" by my classmates. Somehwere in my stash from my past I sill have that copy of the school newspaper as proof :) However, the reality is that my not speaking to most people had nothing to do with them, but completely because of my own insecurity and inferiority complex.
God blessed me with a job at First National Bank. After several months on the job, I was still pretty much the flunkie, doing the jobs that no one else in the department wanted to do. There was some upheaval in the department, the bank brought in a new supervisor, who on her first day began to radically change the operations and the atmosphere of the entire department.
Here I was, horribly quiet, deep within my shell, doing the mundane jobs no one else wanted to do. But for some reason, God gave me favor with the new supervisor. She began to invest in me, train me, speak confidence into me. In a matter of months, I had been promoted beynod my seniors in the department, and yes with that promotion, my pay had drastically increased as well.
It was another one of those chapters in my life where all I was doing was trying to get through the moment - but beyond my perception, the Father was working in the details, working everything together for my good.
The Father used Carolyn Dowden to heal me of my insecurities. He allowed her to see in me something I did not see myself. He led her to speak words of healing and confidence into me at a very pivotal point of my life. The change He used her to help bring about in me led me to the place where I could dare to believe in what HE saw in me, and in what HE said I could become.
It's been too many years since I last told Carolyn "thank you" for being such a powerful agent of change and healing. It's been too long since I thanked the Father for His immense mercy in positioning me exactly where He knew I would receive the healing I so desperatley needed.
Father, today I thank You for working in my todays in preparing me for my tomorrows.
I thank You for ordering my steps in Your Word, and leading me down the paths and at the pace which is in my best interest. I thank You that even though I don't know why I am where I am at the moment, You are still leading me toward my destiny. Today I celebrate Your faithfulness!
God blessed me with a job at First National Bank. After several months on the job, I was still pretty much the flunkie, doing the jobs that no one else in the department wanted to do. There was some upheaval in the department, the bank brought in a new supervisor, who on her first day began to radically change the operations and the atmosphere of the entire department.
Here I was, horribly quiet, deep within my shell, doing the mundane jobs no one else wanted to do. But for some reason, God gave me favor with the new supervisor. She began to invest in me, train me, speak confidence into me. In a matter of months, I had been promoted beynod my seniors in the department, and yes with that promotion, my pay had drastically increased as well.
It was another one of those chapters in my life where all I was doing was trying to get through the moment - but beyond my perception, the Father was working in the details, working everything together for my good.
The Father used Carolyn Dowden to heal me of my insecurities. He allowed her to see in me something I did not see myself. He led her to speak words of healing and confidence into me at a very pivotal point of my life. The change He used her to help bring about in me led me to the place where I could dare to believe in what HE saw in me, and in what HE said I could become.
It's been too many years since I last told Carolyn "thank you" for being such a powerful agent of change and healing. It's been too long since I thanked the Father for His immense mercy in positioning me exactly where He knew I would receive the healing I so desperatley needed.
Father, today I thank You for working in my todays in preparing me for my tomorrows.
I thank You for ordering my steps in Your Word, and leading me down the paths and at the pace which is in my best interest. I thank You that even though I don't know why I am where I am at the moment, You are still leading me toward my destiny. Today I celebrate Your faithfulness!
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Wednesday December 7
Christmas 1984, Tammy and I had been married just over a year. I was working at First National Bank downtown Shreveport. That year the bank bought a new wreath to hang on front of the Main Office building. The old wreath was just going to be thrown away, so I asked for it.
It was a large commercial wreath on a metal frame at least 10' across. It was weather worn, but all the lights were still working. I removed the lights from the wreath and used them in the azalea bushes in front of our small home in Shady Grove.
That next week I came home from work -- plugged in my lights, but most of them were not working. When I began to investigate, I found that many of the bulbs were missing. These commercial grade lights had hung on a wreath for years on a building downtown without a single bulb ever missing. But now, just a few days on my azalea bushes, there were numerous bulbs missing from most every string.
It puzzled me. I began digging through the leaves beneath the azalea bushes attempting to find the missing bulbs - but not a single bulb was anywhere to be seen. They had not just come loose and fallen out for some unknown reason. No, they were absolutely missing -- gone -- not there at all.
It was a cold, damp, Louisiana day. In all my digging looking for the missing bulbs, I did not realize that my wedding band had slipped off my finger - until after I had given up attempting to solve the mystery of the missing bulbs.
I went into panic mode. It was not an expensive band, but that was not the point. It's value was not in how much we had paid for it - but in what it represented. At that point I did not care about the missing bulbs from the Christmas lights I had gotten for free. I was on my hands and knees crawling around my front yard, praying desperately, asking the Father to help me find my wedding band.
I had been crawling, praying, looking for 30 minutes or so when "he" walked up. "He" being the brat kid from next door. He was about 11 or 12, loud, destructive, obnoxious brat. He had terrorized our poor dog on more than one occasion.
Here I am crawling around the front yard, praying out loud -- not caring who saw or heard. And this brat kid walks up and asked what I was doing. Without even looking up, I began telling him how I came home to find bulbs missing from my Christmas lights and in the process of looking for the bulbs I had lost my wedding ring. And not caring if he was standing there, as I continued to crawl around the front yard desperately searching, I began praying again (pretty emotionally) for God to help me find my ring
And believe it or not: with the brat kid still standing there watching me -- I found my ring nestled deep in the St. Augustine grass of our front lawn. And just as emotional, I began to thank God for helping me find my ring.
It had to have been a very funny sight. And I'm aware that in the eternal scope of things and in light of the major issues around the planet, my need wasn't that major at all. But to me at that moment, my issue was extremely important. What continues to baffle me is that even when what concerns me isn't that big of an issue -- my Father is concerned about what concerns me. That even in the mundane, the routine, the "little things" He is continually looking for reasons to "show Himself strong" in my behalf (2 Chronicles 16:9). While I am immensely grateful for the mountain moving major miracles of God in my life - it is in the numerous small things that He continually confirms how much He loves and values me.
Oh, the end of the story: about an hour later, I went out to remove the non-working strings of lights from the azalea bushes -- and right beside the front porch were all the missing bulbs in a nice little pile. My guess is that the neighbor kid was the one who had taken them. But even if that is the case, even for him to bring every one of them back is pretty amazing too, don't you think?
They were just free used Christmas lights, but that night, as I admired them all working again - they were a confirmation of how much the Father is concerned even about the little things.
Father, today, I celebrate this awareness anew.
I gratefully will acknowledge Your hand at work even in the routine and the ordinary events of today.
I am overwhelmed, amazed at Your love and concern.
I thank You, I celebrate You, I rejoice in the confidence of Your incredible, never-ending love.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Tuesday December 6
We had found out in June that Tammy was expecting again. Sometime in late January we would be welcoming another addition to our family. Other than a rough bout with morning sickness during her first trimester, it had been a pretty typical pregnancy. However, the week before Thanksgiving some complications developed. The doctor explained that the development of the baby was at a critical point. For the welfare of the baby, the best and the only option was to admit Tammy to the hospital and try to hold off the birth of the baby as long as they could.
We spent Thanksgiving in the hospital. The following week was the annual "big" Christmas musical production at the church. So while I dove into all that was needed to make the musical happen -- Tammy continued to stay in the hospital in "total bed rest".
Tammy doesn't do neutral. Not that she doesn't do neutral well - just doesn't do neutral at all. Rest is what Tammy takes between what she just got through doing and what she's about to do next. Staying in the hospital - and laying there doing nothing for two weeks -- let's just say it took me, the nurses and all the nuns at Schumpert Medical to keep her halfway between neutral and overdrive.
It was just minutes before the Saturday evening presentation for the Church Musical was about to begin, when my mother told me that they had just left the hospital and Tammy was in hard labor. It was still over six weeks early, but the labor could not be stopped. Our baby was going to be born that night.
I led the choir in the grand entrance beginning, including Rebecca and all the children singing "Happy Birthday Jesus" - then slipped out the side door leaving Carol Hubbard to direct the rest of the musical.
19 years ago this morning at about 3:30, our second miracle was born. She was over six-weeks premature, weighed just over 5 pounds, I could literally hold her in the palm of my hand. She would have to spend the next 10 days in Neo-Natal ICU with IVs in her feet and her head. The hardest thing we had to do was to leave her at the hospital when Tammy was released to go home. We made our trips back to the hospital at feeding times, to be with her as much possible. Finally, we were able to bring our baby home.
19 years later, Anna-Marie is an exceptional young lady. Truly an individual (which I celebrate!) she is passionate about life, her family, her friends -- and most of all, her God. Life is NEVER boring with her. She amps up the energy in every conversation. She is that unexpected blessing that God knew we desperately needed.
Today, Father, I thank You for Anna-Marie. I thank You for Your blessing us, gracing our lives with her. I thank You for her passion for You, her love of life, and her immense concern for others. I thank You for her extreme sensitivity to Your presence and pray she will continue to cultivate that. I thank You that just as she still has the IV scar on her foot -- that the memories of Your being there and caring for both her and us 19 years ago continues to confirm to us that Your hand is upon her life; that You have etched destiny in her DNA; that each day she lives she confirms the miraculous, that Your plans for her are good plans, that You have placed no limits on her future!
I thank you for my BOO :) - for the smiles, the comfort, the blessing she is to our lives!
We spent Thanksgiving in the hospital. The following week was the annual "big" Christmas musical production at the church. So while I dove into all that was needed to make the musical happen -- Tammy continued to stay in the hospital in "total bed rest".
Tammy doesn't do neutral. Not that she doesn't do neutral well - just doesn't do neutral at all. Rest is what Tammy takes between what she just got through doing and what she's about to do next. Staying in the hospital - and laying there doing nothing for two weeks -- let's just say it took me, the nurses and all the nuns at Schumpert Medical to keep her halfway between neutral and overdrive.
It was just minutes before the Saturday evening presentation for the Church Musical was about to begin, when my mother told me that they had just left the hospital and Tammy was in hard labor. It was still over six weeks early, but the labor could not be stopped. Our baby was going to be born that night.
I led the choir in the grand entrance beginning, including Rebecca and all the children singing "Happy Birthday Jesus" - then slipped out the side door leaving Carol Hubbard to direct the rest of the musical.
19 years ago this morning at about 3:30, our second miracle was born. She was over six-weeks premature, weighed just over 5 pounds, I could literally hold her in the palm of my hand. She would have to spend the next 10 days in Neo-Natal ICU with IVs in her feet and her head. The hardest thing we had to do was to leave her at the hospital when Tammy was released to go home. We made our trips back to the hospital at feeding times, to be with her as much possible. Finally, we were able to bring our baby home.
19 years later, Anna-Marie is an exceptional young lady. Truly an individual (which I celebrate!) she is passionate about life, her family, her friends -- and most of all, her God. Life is NEVER boring with her. She amps up the energy in every conversation. She is that unexpected blessing that God knew we desperately needed.
Today, Father, I thank You for Anna-Marie. I thank You for Your blessing us, gracing our lives with her. I thank You for her passion for You, her love of life, and her immense concern for others. I thank You for her extreme sensitivity to Your presence and pray she will continue to cultivate that. I thank You that just as she still has the IV scar on her foot -- that the memories of Your being there and caring for both her and us 19 years ago continues to confirm to us that Your hand is upon her life; that You have etched destiny in her DNA; that each day she lives she confirms the miraculous, that Your plans for her are good plans, that You have placed no limits on her future!
I thank you for my BOO :) - for the smiles, the comfort, the blessing she is to our lives!
Monday December 5
Our world had been shaken. Our confidence was shattered. Our trust had been severely wounded. We had more questions than there were answers. All we did know was that nothing was like we thought it should be. Everything looked like it had fallen apart. Our heroes had proven they were not infallible.
We were hurt, wounded - and worst of all, questioning our own callings. If our heroes had not been infallible, then how could we succeed, how could we ever hope to attain any level of success? If this is what being in the ministry was all about, then who wanted any part of it?
We continued to go through the motions, what what we had always done: singing in most every service, teaching our Sunday School classes. We were hemorrhaging spiritually, mentally, emotionally -- but thank God, we were there.
That particular night we sat in a Church Business Meeting filled with hurting, wounded people. And yes, there is truth in the statement that hurting people hurt people. The room was tense. Too many painful words had been exchanged. Trust was pretty much non-existent. I told Tammy that as soon as the meeting was dismissed I was going to slip across the platform and out the back door and as quickly as we could, get out of there.
It almost happened. The door on the back of the platform was open, my foot was already through the door when I heard someone call my name. I turned to find the Bishop, T.F. Tenney walking toward me. He had left the crowd of people gathered around the front to speak to him - to catch me before I slipped out the door. Honestly, I really didn't even know that he knew my name.
There on the platform -- with me just wanting to leave -- and with a large group wanting to speak to him -- the Bishop embraced me. In true "Papa George Glass" fashion -- he took the time to began to speak words of healing into my gaping bleeding emotional, mental and spiritual wounds.
Tomorrow, December 6, is the Bishop's 78th birthday. There are no words to express the tremendous impact that TF and Thetus Tenney have had upon Tammy and me - and our girls. It is not an understatement to say that we would not be in the ministry if it had not been for their believing in us and being used of God to minister healing to us.
Today, Father I thank You for the influence of Bishop & Sis. Tenney. I thank You for using them that night so many years ago to embrace us and to speak healing words to us. Today, Father, I am again overwhelmed at how much You have always and continue to care about us. I thank You that the reason we can "cast our cares upon You" is because of how greatly You care for us.
Sunday December 4
For almost two years Tammy and I had been feeling a change was coming. We did not know how or what and definitely did not know when - we had just been feeling a change was in the air. The best way I could explain it was that it was like the leaves on the trees were changing - but we did not know what the next season would be.
Feeling change and not knowing when change is coming is a torturous place to be. Yes, it gives hope to hang onto, but for analytical minds, it can push you over the edge trying to figure out what is going to happen and all the "why's" and again, especially the "when".
Finally, in prayer one day I had to settle some things. I sat in a darkened Sanctuary in Bossier City and there alone I reached the place were I could say to the Father that if it meant that I spent the rest of my life doing what I had always done - all I wanted to know was that I was doing His will: that I was where He wanted me to be doing what He wanted me to do.
I walked from that Sanctuary completely at peace. I stopped trying to figure out what could happen or the schedule I thought would be best for God to do it in. Tammy and I continued to give ourselves completely to the areas of ministry God had afforded us.
And then it happened. We did not see it coming. But less than four months after that prayer in the darkened Sanctuary, Tammy and I had moved to a city that before that summer we had never visited, blessed with the opportunity to pastor a congregation we did not know even existed that day when I had prayed my prayer of surrender.
Today, as I have for most Sundays since, in just a few hours I will again stand in the pulpit of this congregation to which God called us over 13 years ago. If the Lord enables me to do so I will speak to them today from Exodus 13:17 -- that even when we do not understand why or how God is working in our lives, we can be confident that He is leading us down paths and at the pace which is in our best interest.
Father, today I thank You for placing Your hand on my life. While I am completely aware I do not, nor have I ever deserved Your favor and mercy - I am so grateful You believe in me more than I believe in myself. That even when I cannot see what You're doing or where You're leading -- that You always are working everything together for my good. I thank You that You can be trusted to lead me down paths and at the pace which is in my best interest.
Today I thank You for Oak Park - for the privilege of ministering Your Word to this congregation.
Feeling change and not knowing when change is coming is a torturous place to be. Yes, it gives hope to hang onto, but for analytical minds, it can push you over the edge trying to figure out what is going to happen and all the "why's" and again, especially the "when".
Finally, in prayer one day I had to settle some things. I sat in a darkened Sanctuary in Bossier City and there alone I reached the place were I could say to the Father that if it meant that I spent the rest of my life doing what I had always done - all I wanted to know was that I was doing His will: that I was where He wanted me to be doing what He wanted me to do.
I walked from that Sanctuary completely at peace. I stopped trying to figure out what could happen or the schedule I thought would be best for God to do it in. Tammy and I continued to give ourselves completely to the areas of ministry God had afforded us.
And then it happened. We did not see it coming. But less than four months after that prayer in the darkened Sanctuary, Tammy and I had moved to a city that before that summer we had never visited, blessed with the opportunity to pastor a congregation we did not know even existed that day when I had prayed my prayer of surrender.
Today, as I have for most Sundays since, in just a few hours I will again stand in the pulpit of this congregation to which God called us over 13 years ago. If the Lord enables me to do so I will speak to them today from Exodus 13:17 -- that even when we do not understand why or how God is working in our lives, we can be confident that He is leading us down paths and at the pace which is in our best interest.
Father, today I thank You for placing Your hand on my life. While I am completely aware I do not, nor have I ever deserved Your favor and mercy - I am so grateful You believe in me more than I believe in myself. That even when I cannot see what You're doing or where You're leading -- that You always are working everything together for my good. I thank You that You can be trusted to lead me down paths and at the pace which is in my best interest.
Today I thank You for Oak Park - for the privilege of ministering Your Word to this congregation.
Saturday December 3
The November after Tammy and I were just married in September - I made a horrible mistake in my checkbook. The short of it was that come December, after we had paid our bills and bought gifts for the extended family, we just had $30 extra to spend on "us".
It was our first Christmas - and the choice we had to make was whether or not we wanted to split that $30 to buy gifts for each other - or to take that money to purchase our first Christmas tree and decorations for our first Christmas. After discussing this - we both came to the conclusion that the gift we would give ourselves was to spend the money for a tree and decorations.
We went to a local plant nursery, hunted through the trees until we found one in our budget. Fortunately, Gibson's Discount Department Store in Bossier City was going out of business that year, so we loaded up on 25 cent strings of lights and other heavily discounted decorations. Tammy made some homemade decorations to finish out our first Christmas tree.
We were in heaven. Broke as "Cooter Brown" (whomever that is - its just one of the things my mom always said) - but we were together - and we had our own Christmas tree. This memory probably partially explains why 28 years later decorating for Christmas is still a big deal to Tammy and me.
Along with our decision that our gift to each other was using our limited extra funds for our first Christmas tree - Tammy and I determined that our decision was privately our own. No one else needed to know. Even though there was not a single gift for us under our tree -- we had gifts bought for the extended family - we had our own tree, we had each other. This was all we wanted for Christmas.
So we did just that: we didn't tell anyone what we had done or that we were pretty much broke for the rest of the month. No one else needed to know.
But about 9:00 a.m. on the Saturday before Christmas there was a knock on the back door. I opened the door and was totally surprised to see my little mother all bedecked in her Christmas finery standing there with gifts in hand.
I have to explain that my mother NEVER just showed up at our home without notice. We lived a good 10-15 miles from her. Even when in later years we lived less than a mile from their home, I can never remember my mother ever coming to our home without notice again. It is just not something my mother EVER does.
So that Saturday morning we were so shocked that she was there - that it took us a bit to figure out what she was doing. She handed me her armload of gifts and then told me there were more in the car. When I asked what these gifts were for, Mom just smiled and said "These are from Santa Claus". And as quickly as she appeared, she was back in her car and gone.
When Tammy and I looked at the tags on the gifts there were an equal amount of gifts for each of us - and yes, every tag said "From Santa Claus"
This memory is about so much more than just our first Christmas tree or the surprise gifts from "Santa".
This story is about how without Tammy and I ever telling anyone - including my mother - somehow my little mom in the Spirit "picked up on" that Tammy and I did not have the money to buy gifts for each other.
If this were just a once in a lifetime event with my mom - then it would still be a favorite memory of Christmas past. But it isn't. Hard to explain perhaps, but it is something my mother has always done - and continues to do. Mom will be 84 this coming Friday. And even this week speaking with her on the phone she told me how she "just felt" that she needed to be concerned about a specific situation - in someone else's life.
Here she is at almost 84; she hardly leaves her home except for "necessary" trips to the doctor which may include brief stops at Walmart or Fred's. She doesn't really talk on the phone to anyone except immediately family. About the only regular contact she has with anyone other than family is Dale Blair who helps with the lawn and the Avon lady.
And yet, without gossip or anyone bending her ear - at 84 Mom still "picks up" on things. It is not uncommon that when I ask if she has heard from my siblings and how they are doing, for her to say: "They say they're doing fine. But I just feel like..."
I apologize for the long post, but there was no other way to explain my intentional gratitude without sharing these details.
You see, I am grateful that my dear little mother with all her quirks and precious peculiarities is mightily used of the Spirit. I am convinced that she walks with the Father, and that she operates in the gifts of the Spirit as much as any of those who do so in much more public venues. And by her example, I am also convinced that Mom demonstrates what the Gifts of the Spirit are all about.
That its not about tent revivals and miracle crusades. Its not about speaking prophetic words over TBN.
But being used by the Spirit and allowing the gifts of the Spirit to operate in our lives is simply allowing the Father to lead us to minister to needs and speak words of strength and direction into situations which otherwise we would be completely unaware of.
And nowhere else should this be occur more frequently - and be of any greater importance than in our families, in our homes, in our closest relationships.
Father, thank You for a Spiritual mother. Thank you for exhibiting through her what Your gifts are all about. Thank you for the strength I continue to receive through Mom still being used in "the gifts".
Friday, December 2, 2011
Friday December 2
They were just dumb ducks. My brother-in-law, Glenn, had for some reason bought them for my nephew, Kristopher, for an Easter gift. They were cute cuddly adorable small ducklings. However, the problem with all cute cuddly adorable baby animals - they grow up. But even though they became full grown ducks, Kris had grown attached to his Easter ducks, having given them each names - that for the life of me I can't remember. Sorry Kris.
That summer when Sharon & Glenn took Kris on vacation - because Tammy and I lived just a couple of blocks away, I was asked to take care of Kris's ducks. All I had to do was to drop by a couple times a day to make sure they were fed and had plenty of water.
That Saturday evening about sundown, I walked over to feed the ducks - to find that they had somehow escaped their small enclosure. NOT that I cared about the ducks, but because I did not want to be the one who lost Kris's pets - I began walking around the neighborhood looking for the lost Easter ducks. Sounds crazy now - felt really stupid then - but I walked up and down the blocks around their home "calling" for the ducks. Not in duck hunter type calling -- but like calling for a pet "Here Duckie, Duckie, Duckie..."
Pretty ridiculous feeling - especially when (surprise, surprise) the ducks did not respond to my calling them. I walked home, dreading having to tell Kris that I was the one who lost his ducks.
Early Sunday morning, I walked back to Sharon & Glenn's home. As I walked I began to pray, reminding God of the promise of Matthew 10 of how the Word assures us that our Father is concerned about the fate of every single bird. And since ducks were birds - I asked the Father to help me find Kris's Easter ducks.
And there they were. Standing right beside their pen. Waiting for me to feed them.
I know this sounds overly sensitive or even verging on sensational -- but as I put those dumb ducks back where they belonged, the rest of the promise of Matthew 10 came back to me:
Matthew 10:29 - What is the price of two sparrows—one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. 30 And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. 31 So don't be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.
That summer when Sharon & Glenn took Kris on vacation - because Tammy and I lived just a couple of blocks away, I was asked to take care of Kris's ducks. All I had to do was to drop by a couple times a day to make sure they were fed and had plenty of water.
That Saturday evening about sundown, I walked over to feed the ducks - to find that they had somehow escaped their small enclosure. NOT that I cared about the ducks, but because I did not want to be the one who lost Kris's pets - I began walking around the neighborhood looking for the lost Easter ducks. Sounds crazy now - felt really stupid then - but I walked up and down the blocks around their home "calling" for the ducks. Not in duck hunter type calling -- but like calling for a pet "Here Duckie, Duckie, Duckie..."
Pretty ridiculous feeling - especially when (surprise, surprise) the ducks did not respond to my calling them. I walked home, dreading having to tell Kris that I was the one who lost his ducks.
Early Sunday morning, I walked back to Sharon & Glenn's home. As I walked I began to pray, reminding God of the promise of Matthew 10 of how the Word assures us that our Father is concerned about the fate of every single bird. And since ducks were birds - I asked the Father to help me find Kris's Easter ducks.
And there they were. Standing right beside their pen. Waiting for me to feed them.
I know this sounds overly sensitive or even verging on sensational -- but as I put those dumb ducks back where they belonged, the rest of the promise of Matthew 10 came back to me:
Matthew 10:29 - What is the price of two sparrows—one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. 30 And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. 31 So don't be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.
They were just dumb ducks. But if the Father was concerned enough about them - and concerned enough about the feelings of a young child regarding those dumb ducks -- then how much more is He concerned about each of us? How much more is completely aware of every detail of our lives? How much more is He entirely concerned about us?
Father, it's been too long since I remembered the dumb duck story. But today, as I remember - I thank you again for the confidence, the assurance of knowing how much you love and value each of us. That there is not a tear we cry that you do not see, not a single pain you do not feel, not a single worry that does not concern you. Down to numbering the hair on our head -- I thank You for being completely aware and entirely concerned about everything in our lives.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Thursday December 1
December 1986 - the exciting news that was our Christmas gift that year was that Tammy and I were expecting our first child. We had been married for three years, I had been blessed with a position in full-time ministry. It looked, felt like everything was going as we had planned and hoped it would.
However, several months into her pregnancy, the routine doctors appointment gave us the unexpected. They had found a mass - there was concern about malignancy - and even though she was pregnant, the doctor informed us that to wait was not an option. The mass had to be removed ASAP.
If the talk of possible malignancy was not already overwhelming - the most hopeless feeling was the day when the anesthesiologist came in to pre-op to explain that there was a great chance that the anesthesia would cause her to miscarry.
I won't rehearse all the details here that I have relived over the past few days of the despair, the desperation, the crying out to God for answers that did not seem to come quickly. All I will say is that in that moment, when the cold hard facts shake your faith to its core - the only thing we had to hold onto was that God was in the middle of our chaos - and that He was faithful to work even these details for our good.
The good news is that there was no malignancy. The better news is that the anesthesia did not cause Tammy to miscarry. That following August 27, Rebecca was born - completely and entirely healthy. 24 years later, Bec is a beautiful gracious anointed young lady. As she has for the past 24 years, she continues to be the cause of great joy and comfort - and a daily reminder to the faithfulness of our good God.
My journaling these memories of the blessings and mercies past has caused me to relive the emotions of those chapters - but more than that it has caused me to realize how much God has always been FOR me. And this keener fresher awareness of who He has always been and what He has already done – there are no words to express what it is doing for my faith in who He IS and what He is going to do NOW
Father, today I thank You for turning chaos into cause for celebration
Today I thank You - that even when I have more questions than answers, You consistently are working in the details, to work everything together for my good.
I thank You that when I cannot see past the emotion of the moment, You embrace me with all my "Whys" and confirm Your presence in ways which continue to amaze me.
Today, Father, I thank you for Bec - for Your hand being upon her life, for continuing to work "all things together" for her good, and for continually confirming to both her and us that from her conception, You have etched destiny in her DNA.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Wednesday November 30
After service this past Sunday Bro. Gary Welborn told me that he was already having a problem trying to find just ONE thing for which to be thankful - because the moment he began thinking about one blessing - just one thing that the Father had already done - dwelling on that one thing unleashed an avalanche of memories of so many other things the Father had done as well.
Understand what he was saying, for I'm having that same problem. I have not "scheduled" my list - but I will admit that in preparing for the message last week, I did sort of run through some of the things I thought I would focus upon this week. However, there has been this avalanche of memories, of things I have not even thought about in a long time that has at times overwhelmed me at just how good and faithful the Father has been to me.
Maybe its the mention of 701 Traffic Street in an earlier blog this week, but today I'm revisiting a memory of "blessings and mercy past" that I had pretty much forgotten.
I've already resurrected all the details of what brought me to this point - details that from a 30+ year perspective don't seem to be that overwhelming. However, at that moment I remember the despair, the frantic desperation, the feeling of not knowing what I was going to do - and at the same time knowing there was really only one place to which I could run.
I remember after work hurrying across the Texas Street Bridge to get to the church as quickly as I could. I do not know why I went to this particular Sunday School classroom, I do not remember ever going there to pray before or after this moment. But I ran up the stairs to what for many years was the Junior Sunday School Class. There in that darkened room, illuminated by the light of the single window - in the far dark corner I fell on my face and began to pour out my heart to the faithful Father.
Though I had been around His presence all my life; and though I had been filled with His Spirit since a young child of 5, this day, in the middle of a storm that at that moment felt like it was going to sink my ship - in that moment I found Him to be more real - and the Source of more comfort, more strength, more direction than I had ever known Him to be before that moment.
I do not remember how long I prayed, how long I spent in His presence that day. I do remember walking out of that room with a confidence, a knowing that even though I was not aware that any of the details of what I was facing had changed, I was totally aware that He was Sovereignly in charge:
Psalm 56:11 - In God have I put my trust: I will not be afraid what man can do unto me.
Psalm 61:1 - Hear my cry, O God; attend unto my prayer. 2 From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
3 For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy.
Understand what he was saying, for I'm having that same problem. I have not "scheduled" my list - but I will admit that in preparing for the message last week, I did sort of run through some of the things I thought I would focus upon this week. However, there has been this avalanche of memories, of things I have not even thought about in a long time that has at times overwhelmed me at just how good and faithful the Father has been to me.
Maybe its the mention of 701 Traffic Street in an earlier blog this week, but today I'm revisiting a memory of "blessings and mercy past" that I had pretty much forgotten.
I've already resurrected all the details of what brought me to this point - details that from a 30+ year perspective don't seem to be that overwhelming. However, at that moment I remember the despair, the frantic desperation, the feeling of not knowing what I was going to do - and at the same time knowing there was really only one place to which I could run.
I remember after work hurrying across the Texas Street Bridge to get to the church as quickly as I could. I do not know why I went to this particular Sunday School classroom, I do not remember ever going there to pray before or after this moment. But I ran up the stairs to what for many years was the Junior Sunday School Class. There in that darkened room, illuminated by the light of the single window - in the far dark corner I fell on my face and began to pour out my heart to the faithful Father.
Though I had been around His presence all my life; and though I had been filled with His Spirit since a young child of 5, this day, in the middle of a storm that at that moment felt like it was going to sink my ship - in that moment I found Him to be more real - and the Source of more comfort, more strength, more direction than I had ever known Him to be before that moment.
I do not remember how long I prayed, how long I spent in His presence that day. I do remember walking out of that room with a confidence, a knowing that even though I was not aware that any of the details of what I was facing had changed, I was totally aware that He was Sovereignly in charge:
Psalm 56:11 - In God have I put my trust: I will not be afraid what man can do unto me.
A lot of years and miles since that day 30+ years ago. But looking back over the past 24 hours, I have realized that what I discovered about the Father in that crisis moment has been the fundamental core confidence that has brought me through every storm I have faced since.
Looking back I admit that what brought me to that moment doesn't look like that big of a deal. From His eternal perspective, I can't imagine how small and trivial it looked. But in His presence I did not find rebuke or disdain, but I found strength and comfort.
Today I thank You, Father, for that moment. I thank You that even when what has me overwhelmed isn't really as big as it seems to me at that moment - You are faithful, consistent - using my crisis moments to reveal Yourself even more greatly to me. Over the years You have proven Yourself to be my continual Source of strength and confidence.
Psalm 61:1 - Hear my cry, O God; attend unto my prayer. 2 From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
3 For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Tuesday November 29
I don't deserve it. Haven't been able to figure out why God would bless me so greatly. All I know is that He has been so much better to me than I could ever ask Him to be.
Today I am grateful for my greatest blessing.
October 25, 1981 I got up the nerve, with some prompting from some friends, to ask the most beautiful girl I had ever met for a date. I really didn't think she'd give me the time of day, much less go out with me.
Two years later, September 24, 1983 she said "I DO" and for 28 years she's been my best friend, my biggest supporter, my greatest source of confidence. In true Proverbs 31 style, no one outworks her. She is tireless in her care and concern. And she is as real and authentic as anyone could ever be. Her passion for Christ is genuine and transparent.
I say it often that she is my "best half". There is no other way to say it. God knows I'd be lost without her.
God, Thank you for Tammy. Forgive me for taking her for granted and for not thanking both You and her more often.
Oh, by the way -- there are no brownie points with Tammy by posting this :). By choice, Tammy doesn't to computers or the internet. :)
Monday November 28
I thank God for awesome parents who are not perfect, but who are authentic Christians. I am grateful that they are and have been committed to Christ for their lifetimes - and who did their best center their home and our family on their love for Christ as well. Who they were at home was who they were wherever they went - including church.
I am thankful that I was immersed in a God-awareness since before I have memories. I cannot tell you the first time I felt His presence, or was exposed to expressive worship, or heard my parents weep and rejoice as they prayed. It was just "who" they were. No, it was just who "WE" were! I am so grateful.
Today I thank God that as just a 5 year old boy I had my own God-encounter. The memories are vivid. I remember the gold carpet at the altar at 701 Traffic Street in Bossier City. I remember the faces of dear saints and friends who were praying with me. I remember the feeling as the presence of God overwhelmed me - and I began to speak in tongues. I remember that same night in a baptistry filled with frigid water, being baptized by my pastor, L.J. McDaniel in the wonderful Name of Jesus Christ.
Today I do not take this for granted. Today, what next April 16 will be 45 years ago - I remember and express my gratitude for a lifetime of mercy - blessing - and knowing that His presence is with me. I cannot brag about perfection. I cannot boast about never sinning or never making any mistakes. But I do confidently state that God has never left me, never given up on me, and always confirms His presence and His love in my life.
I am thankful that I was immersed in a God-awareness since before I have memories. I cannot tell you the first time I felt His presence, or was exposed to expressive worship, or heard my parents weep and rejoice as they prayed. It was just "who" they were. No, it was just who "WE" were! I am so grateful.
Today I thank God that as just a 5 year old boy I had my own God-encounter. The memories are vivid. I remember the gold carpet at the altar at 701 Traffic Street in Bossier City. I remember the faces of dear saints and friends who were praying with me. I remember the feeling as the presence of God overwhelmed me - and I began to speak in tongues. I remember that same night in a baptistry filled with frigid water, being baptized by my pastor, L.J. McDaniel in the wonderful Name of Jesus Christ.
Today I do not take this for granted. Today, what next April 16 will be 45 years ago - I remember and express my gratitude for a lifetime of mercy - blessing - and knowing that His presence is with me. I cannot brag about perfection. I cannot boast about never sinning or never making any mistakes. But I do confidently state that God has never left me, never given up on me, and always confirms His presence and His love in my life.
Sunday's Intentional Gratitude
Today I am thankful for life, for breath - for the statistical impossibility that I exist.
Sounds over dramatic, but today I take time to remember the details of the story I've heard my dad tell numerous times.
How that in 1949 when my parents' world was shaken when after nine months what they thought was a pregnancy turned out to be a huge mass in my mother's womb. "It just so happened" that William Branham came to Tulsa, where my parents were living. That night he prayed for my mother - and "only God" - miraculously that same night mother was completely healed. A year later, my big brother was born.
Then in December 1961, my mother's fourth "miraculous" pregnancy developed complications during delivery. The doctors allowed my father to come into the delivery room to say his "goodbye's", for they did not believe that either my mother or the baby would make it. My parents lived in a small town with no surgeon on staff at the local hospital. On a long-distance telephone call with a surgeon in Shreveport giving them directions, the local doctors performed their first Cesarean and delivered ME!
I've heard my dad tell these stories all my life. He always gets emotional reliving these moments. At one point I may have thought he was a bit too over-dramatic about it all. However, today I realize that it is only because of the goodness and the mercies of God that against all statistical odds I even exist. In rehearsing these details out loud - I am humbly and gratefully aware that I am not here by accident. That I do have destiny in my DNA. That me and my three siblings are all proof of the miraculous.
And since Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, TODAY and forever - His power is just as authentic and God is just as much FOR US as ever before.
Sounds over dramatic, but today I take time to remember the details of the story I've heard my dad tell numerous times.
How that in 1949 when my parents' world was shaken when after nine months what they thought was a pregnancy turned out to be a huge mass in my mother's womb. "It just so happened" that William Branham came to Tulsa, where my parents were living. That night he prayed for my mother - and "only God" - miraculously that same night mother was completely healed. A year later, my big brother was born.
Then in December 1961, my mother's fourth "miraculous" pregnancy developed complications during delivery. The doctors allowed my father to come into the delivery room to say his "goodbye's", for they did not believe that either my mother or the baby would make it. My parents lived in a small town with no surgeon on staff at the local hospital. On a long-distance telephone call with a surgeon in Shreveport giving them directions, the local doctors performed their first Cesarean and delivered ME!
I've heard my dad tell these stories all my life. He always gets emotional reliving these moments. At one point I may have thought he was a bit too over-dramatic about it all. However, today I realize that it is only because of the goodness and the mercies of God that against all statistical odds I even exist. In rehearsing these details out loud - I am humbly and gratefully aware that I am not here by accident. That I do have destiny in my DNA. That me and my three siblings are all proof of the miraculous.
And since Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, TODAY and forever - His power is just as authentic and God is just as much FOR US as ever before.
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