"I Am The Flag"

I Am the Flag of the

United States

Of America

I am the flag of the United States of America.
My name is Old Glory.
I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
I fly majestically over institutions of learning.
I stand guard with power in the world.
Look up and see me.

I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice.
I stand for freedom.
I am confident.
I am arrogant.
I am proud.
When I am flown with my fellow banners,
My head is a little higher,
My colors a little truer.
I bow to no one!
I am recognized all over the world.
I am worshipped - I am saluted.
I am loved - I am revered.
I am respected - and I am feared.
I have fought in every battle of every war for more then 200 years. I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appomattox.
I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France,
in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome and the beaches of Normandy.
Guam, Okinawa, Korea and Khe Sanh, Saigon, Vietnam know me.
I'm presently in the mountains of Afghanistan and the hot and dusty deserts of Iraq and wherever freedom is needed.
I led my troops, I was dirty, battle-worn and tired,
But my soldiers cheered me and I was proud.
I have been burned, torn and trampled on the streets of countries I have helped set free.
It does not hurt for I am invincible.
I have been soiled upon, burned, torn and trampled in the streets of my country.
And when it's done by those whom I've served in battle - it hurts.
But I shall overcome - for I am strong.
I have slipped the bonds of Earth and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space from my vantage point on the moon.
I have borne silent witness to all of America's finest hours.
But my finest hours are yet to come.
When I am torn into strips and used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the battlefield,
When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier,
Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent
at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,
I am proud.

Broken Dreams

Broken Dreams

As children bring their broken toys

With tears for us to mend,

I brought my broken dreams to God

Because He was my friend.

But then instead of leaving Him

In peace to work alone,

I hung around and tried to help

With ways that were my own.

At last I snatched them back and cried,

"How could you be so slow"

"My child," He said, "What could I do?

You never did let go."

Robert J. Burdette

"A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand"

My mom and sister have started baking cookies, cakes, pies, and all kinds of other goodies. Well, I shouldn't say they just started doing it, because they've been baking for years. But they only recently created a blog page where you can actually see what they're cooking up, and get an idea of what you want to order! :)

Christmas cookies make a really good gift for family, friends, and co-workers. Or maybe you're headed to Great Aunt Edna's for Christmas dinner, and have been tasked with dessert. Instead of spending hours in the kitchen making something that may or may not taste like cardboard, let them do the work for you and you're guaranteed to get a dessert that will have everyone asking for seconds.

Check it out:

http://www.cakeboxgirls.blogspot.com/

In Memory of Adam

A Soldier's Christmas Poem

Written by Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt.

'Twas The Night Before Christmas,

He Lived All Alone,

In A One Bedroom House

Made Of Plaster And Stone.

I Had Come Down The Chimney

With Presents To Give,

And To See Just Who

In This Home Did Live.

I Looked All About,

A Strange Sight I Did See,

No Tinsel, No Presents,

Not Even A Tree.

No Stocking By Mantle,

Just Boots Filled With Sand,

On The Wall Hung Pictures

Of Far Distant Lands.

With Medals And Badges,

Awards Of All Kinds,

A Sober Thought

Came Through My Mind.

For This House Was Different,

It Was Dark And Dreary,

I Found The Home Of A Soldier,

Once I Could See Clearly.

The Soldier Lay Sleeping,

Silent, Alone,

Curled Up On The Floor

In This One Bedroom Home.

The Face Was So Gentle,

The Room In Such Disorder,

Not How I Pictured

A United States Soldier.

Was This The Hero

Of Whom I'd Just Read?

Curled Up On A Poncho,

The Floor For A Bed?

I Realized The Families

That I Saw This Night,

Owed Their Lives To These Soldiers

Who Were Willing To Fight.

Soon Round The World,

The Children Would Play,

And Grownups Would Celebrate

A Bright Christmas Day.

They All Enjoyed Freedom

Each Month Of The Year,

Because Of The Soldiers,

Like The One Lying Here.

I Couldn't Help Wonder

How Many Lay Alone,

On A Cold Christmas Eve

In A Land Far From Home.

The Very Thought

Brought A Tear To My Eye,

I Dropped To My Knees

And Started To Cry.

The Soldier Awakened

And I Heard A Rough Voice,

"Santa Don't Cry,

This Life Is My Choice;

I Fight For Freedom,

I Don't Ask For More,

My Life Is My God,

My Country, My Corps."

The Soldier Rolled Over

And Drifted To Sleep,

I Couldn't Control It,

I Continued To Weep.

I Kept Watch For Hours,

So Silent And Still

And We Both Shivered

From The Cold Night's Chill.

I Didn't Want To Leave

On That Cold, Dark, Night,

This Guardian Of Honor

So Willing To Fight.

Then The Soldier Rolled Over,

With A Voice Soft And Pure,

Whispered, "Carry On Santa,

It's Christmas Day, All Is Secure."

One Look At My Watch,

And I Knew He Was Right.

"Merry Christmas My Friend,

And To All A Good Night."

For an Angel on His Birthday

Happy Birthday to an Angel

May you know how much you’re missed

By all of those whose lives you touched

Which are more than I could list.

May you enjoy this day

With your Father above,

In the light of His glory,

And wrapped in His love.

My prayers are with your family and friends

Who all are missing you so.

The ones who stood beside you

Through the years, and watched you grow

From a small boy full of mischief,

To a grown man proud and tall,

To a warrior filled with courage,

A fallen soldier who gave all.

Thank you, dear angel, for selflessly living

The life that you so freely gave

For love of your brothers, for love of your country,

The land of the free and the brave.

I’m sure of the words of our Father above

As into Heaven He welcomed you.

“Well done, my son, you’re finally home

My good servant, faithful and true.”

Happy Birthday Adam.

Did you PLAN your bear hunt in the wilderness?

Walking with God does not mean walking with him when it's convenient, through a problem-free life that we have all planned out.

You may want to re-read that. I’ll give you a second. Ready? Good. The above statement is something that has, at times, been hard for me to accept. I’ve never actually heard this statement anywhere, but I came up with it in an attempt to encompass three common misconceptions about walking with God that have been hindering my own spiritual journey.

First, walking with God means walking with Him through life and all that comes with it. It does not mean you walk with Him around the problems, or above the tragedies, or somehow pray your way out of hardships and trials. I remember in preschool or kindergarten, when we would sing the song about going on a bear hunt. I don’t remember it exactly, but it involved running into several obstacles along the way. One was a river. And what choices were we faced with when we came to the river? “Can’t go over it, can’t go under it, can’t go around it, gotta go through it.”

That’s how the Christian life works. You gotta go through it. But no worries, God is right there with you. In Hebrews 13:5 He promises us “Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you.”

Secondly, just because we’re walking with God doesn’t mean we get to make the plans. We can’t come up with a great plan, pray about it, and expect God to jump on board and bless it just because we ask Him to. That’s a little bit backwards. First you should pray about it then ask Him to show you how to follow His plan. So when something interrupts your plans, the question you’re faced with is this: Will I go with God on this journey, even though it’s not what I had planned? Will I go with Him anyway?

“In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.” - Proverbs 16:9

Thirdly, walking with God does not mean walking with Him when it’s convenient, or when it serves our purposes, or when we think we will get something out of it. Basically, we need to either decide to walk with God 100%, or get out of the way. The decision to walk with God, and stay with Him, is not always going to look like the most exciting choice. Suppose someone gave you these two options:

1. Walk with God down this path and receive tons of blessings, or

2. Walk your own path, follow your own plans, and end up misguided and frustrated.

Obviously, this would be an easy choice. Now suppose someone gave you these options:

1. Walk with God down this path and lose your sense of worldly security (financial, social, etc), and face trials that will ultimately serve to make you grow, but will be painful. Or,

2. Walk your own path and live a relatively comfortable life with no intrusive obstacles along the way.

A slightly more difficult decision, right? I am not trying to over-simplify what it means to choose God’s ways over our own. I’m just trying to make the point that choosing the path God wants doesn't mean we’re choosing a painless, obstacle-free journey. But it does mean we have Him right beside us all along the way.

Right now I’m doing a Bible study that centers on the Israelites’ deliverance from Egypt, their journey to the Promised Land, and all the wandering they do in the meantime. The study invites each person to be willing to follow God into the “wilderness”, whatever that may be for him/her.

Everyone does not face the same wilderness. It may be something tragic that happens in your life. You lose a loved one, or lose a job, or a marriage that you thought would last forever begins to fall apart. It could simply be a situation that is frustrating you, because it’s not “what you had planned.” It could be something more voluntary, where you have to make the choice between journeying into the wilderness or staying safely where you are. However your individual wilderness manifests itself, the basic principles are the same.

Often when God allows a wilderness opportunity into our lives, it’s because He sees potential in us to be more and do more in our walk with Him. He’s not letting things into our lives because He’s mad at us, or because we haven’t passed some unwritten test. He does it so we will grow.

Don’t expect a short journey through the wilderness. You may get a short one, but don’t expect one. God will allow you to remain in your wilderness, face-to-face with it, until He has used it to fully develop your potential and cause you to grow. Remember that when you’re facing something in your life, before you attach any type of negative label to it, remember that God can use it for something positive. God’s ways are not our ways. There are no mistakes in His plan. The only mistake would be to not trust Him to lead you through that plan.

“‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord.” - Isaiah 55:8

Thoughts on Grieving

Sorry this first one is not all that cheerful. But I found this one in my "In Progress" folder and it was actually already complete! :)


Thoughts on grieving…

When we grieve, we grieve not only for the one we lost. We grieve for every single possibility that may have awaited us in our future. All the questions of “what if” and “if only”, which begin to creep into our heads the very second that person is taken from us.

“What if he hadn’t been at the wrong place at the wrong time?”
“What if he had somehow lived through it?”
“What if I had said more often how I felt?”
“What if he had made it back home safely?”
“What if we were meant for each other?”

We can’t run from the questions. Well, we can run from them, but not forever, and not with good results. Not only must we turn around and face these nagging, unanswerable questions... We must take each one in turn, walk with it down the road of the mind’s eye, accompany it to the dead-end that awaits, and watch helplessly as it dies a slow, agonizing death. Then we must trek back to the starting point, only to pick up another unanswerable question and begin the same journey once more.

To me, there is a very fine line between working through grief and torturing yourself. Honestly, the process is the same, the questions are the same. But the factors which determine which result you’ll get (healing or torment) are your attitude, your faith, and your determination not to become completely overcome by the grief.

It’s important to understand that it’s okay to have a bad day. Grieving is not supposed to be some neat, orderly process, where each day is always better than the ones before. Some days you just can’t face the grief, and that’s okay. Don’t push yourself to. Heaven knows it will still be there waiting for you when you’re ready to pick it back up again and face it. But don’t hide out too long, either. The anger and grief will fester and eat at you until the day comes when you must either release the grief or let it destroy you.

I think one thing that makes grieving so hard is being overly concerned with whether or not you’re doing it right, or fast enough, or slowly enough. I know for me, I was terrified of not going through the grieving process correctly and at an acceptable pace, for fear that I would have to retrace my steps, or end up emotionally scarred for a lifetime. So after reading up a bit on the topic of grieving, I picked up several tips. Some were from educated professionals who study the mind, and some from caring souls who have walked the road already and want to help out those who come behind them. So, here is my advice… my one all-encompassing tip on grieving.

Gather together every piece of advice on grieving and loss, whether you consider it to be good or bad. Print it out and put it all together in a notebook. Got it? Now throw that notebook as far away from you as possible. Or set the thing on fire. Feel better? Didn’t think so. Feel alone and vulnerable and petrified and directionless? Good. You have to work through your grief in your own way, and in your own time. You cannot borrow someone else’s notes and cheat on this test. Doesn’t work that way. Suppose someone tells you to go through five stages, in this specific order, and allow 3-5 weeks for each. But you really needed only 3 stages, and you needed 6 months in each. You may very well end up at least temporarily, if not irreversibly, screwed up. That grieving plan, though it may have worked for someone else, is not your own individual plan, and it will not work for you.

All notebook-burning joking aside… Here is what I would suggest, and what I will hopefully do the first time around whenever I have cause to grieve again. Pray. Ask God to make you sensitive to what you need, when you need it. Trust. You have to know that you can depend on God completely during this entire process. Give yourself freedom. When you feel like crying, cry. When you feel like looking through old letters and pictures, do it. When you feel like writing, write. When you feel like dying, fight. When you don’t think you can think about it for one more second, don’t. Think about something else. Or someone else. One of the best ways to get your mind off yourself and your problems is to reach out and do something for someone else.

Just know that God will get you through it. Lean on Him and trust Him with all your heart.


Psalm 23

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my
cup overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of
the LORD forever.

I'm back...

Well, I know it's been about 9 months since I've written anything for this blog. I was able to get some posts cranked out at the last minute before leaving for Basic Training, and get those auto-published while I was in BMT, but I haven't done anything since then. I'm back now, though, so please feel free to breathe that sigh of relief and return, finally, to getting a full night's rest.

I have an entire folder full of "in progress" blogs that are in various stages of development. So I'm going to try to finish some of those, and then return to creating new ones. Of course, they're all new to you, the reader, so I basically just wasted time and energy writing this entire paragraph.

Aren't you glad I'm back? :)

Rocket Coffee

At the train stations in Italy, there are drink machines and vending machines beside virtually every track in every station. We tried lots of different things, but our favorite was a type of candy we fondly refer to as “Rocket Coffee.” It is chocolate candy filled with liquid coffee. You bite into it, and your mouth is filled with coffee. Strange at first, yes, but incredibly addicting and wonderful. Especially in the afternoon when you’ve been walking forever and you’re starting to drag. It’s really called Pocket Coffee but we apparently didn’t look very closely at it, and now the name has stuck.

Grappa

Mom and I had plans to have a picnic in one of the parks. We went into a grocery store and found some fruit, cheese, and bread. We wanted to get some grapes, so Mom oh-so-confidently marches up to one of the store workers and asks where she might find “grappa”. We were slightly confused as he headed away from the produce, and then stopped in front of the wine section, pointing, and repeating “grappa.” I’m sure he was disappointed and probably somewhat frustrated when we didn’t purchase any wine… I don’t think we ever found any grapes. :)

Paged in Rome

My Mom and I are planners. We are list people. We have lists for our lists. We have an item on our to-do list that says “Make a list of to-do lists to make.” Haha. We do not like to be late, and we like to be prepared. Oh, and neither of us necessarily likes to be the center of attention. I point these things out to you so you will keep them in the back of your mind as you read this next story.

Our flight home from Italy had one stop. We flew from Florence to Rome, and then from Rome to Atlanta. Our layover in Rome was about 3 or 4 hours, if I remember correctly. We had missed seeing St. Peter’s during our visit to Rome earlier in our trip, so we actually toyed with the idea of zipping over there and seeing it before our flight left. Being the sensible gals that we are, we decided against it, thinking it more prudent to just hang around the vicinity of the airport until our next flight. We had a blast wandering all over the airport, people-watching, shopping, and just walking around. We got our last serving of gelato, and ate it while sitting next to a window that was right beside the runway. Mom and I are both fascinated with planes, so we sat there forever watching planes take off and land.

Finally, we decided we should go ahead and start making our way to our gate. On the way there I stopped at the ladies’ restroom. It was quite crowded, so I was standing in line… All of a sudden mom dashes into the bathroom, eyes wide, and says, “They are paging us to our gate!!!” Forgetting any necessity of bodily functions, I immediately followed her out, and we proceeded to practically run to our gate. We finally got there and the two people working there verified who we were, and then practically shoved us through the terminal. We boarded the plane where dozens of passengers were patiently (ha) waiting.

This story is just a testament of the irony that exists in both of our lives, especially mine. With a four hour layover, most people would have tried to squeeze in some last minute sight-seeing or shopping. Not us. Being the ever responsible travelers, we had decided to just park it and wait until it was time for our flight. And in doing so, we just about missed our flight. :)

My sleep aid contraption

We had a few very long train rides while we were in Italy. Many times we were very tired, having walked all day, speed-touring the various bustling Italian cities. You know what it’s like when you fall asleep in a sitting position, like in a car or on a plane. Your eyelids start drooping, until it’s like pure torture to hold them open. Your head starts to feel like it’s about 60 pounds. Eventually you allow your eyes to close, and you are able to enjoy the first 2 or 3 minutes of your sleep in an upright and civilized (albeit totally unnatural) body position. But then your muscles relax, and your head falls forward slowly, until your chin is on your chest. Or until it slams into the window of whatever mode of transportation on which you happen to be riding.

Furious at the law of gravity for not allowing my head to stay in an upright position while sleeping, I hastily sought to fashion a contraption whose sole purpose would be to keep my head back while I slept on the train. I took a quick look around me and immediately my eyes landed on my oh-so-hip travel bag. This bag had a shoulder strap. I immediately saw the potential. I carefully placed the top part of the shoulder strap against my forehead, and held it there as I slung the bag over the back of my seat. Looking back, this plan does not seem quite as intelligent as I had thought. Innovative and efficient? Perhaps. Intelligent? Not so much. Painful? Quite. But hindsight is always 20/20, so do not judge. I was desperate for sleep. Anyway, needless to say, the contraption did not quite work as planned. The shoulder strap slipped from my forehead down to my neck just as the bag dropped over the back of the chair. Essentially I had attempted a hanging. I am going to post a picture on here. It does not do the situation justice, but you’ll get the general idea.

Duomo di Milano

One of Mom’s favorite things in Italy was the churches. She loved to walk slowly around each one, soaking up each detail. The first one we went in on our trip (I couldn’t tell you which city it was in), I too took a slow stroll around the interior, taking in the details of the walls, sculptures, and stained glass. I enjoyed the dark, cool dampness of the air. It was a welcome change from the hot sun outside. I amused myself long enough for mom to finish looking around. Then we went back outside and continued our journey through whatever city we were in. In my mind, I had mentally checked “Visit church in Italy” off my to-do list. Haha. Little did I know that Italy has so MANY churches and cathedrals, and somehow I had forgotten just how much my mom likes to visit them.

We spent one day in Milan. Honestly, the main reason I wanted to stop here was just to be able to say I’d been. There really wasn’t anything I specifically was dying to see. I knew Milan to be a major fashion-minded city. Meaning they had lots of stores full of lots of clothes and accessories I could not afford without taking out a loan.

When we got to Milan, we took the underground train from the train station to a point in the city that we knew would be close to the “Duomo di Milano.” (Duomo means church/cathedral in Italian. See, I did learn some things in Italian after all.) We climbed the stairs that led from the train to the streets of Milan. Taking a cursory glance around, I immediately spotted the enormous cathedral. I said, “Oh, wow, it’s so pretty!” Then I continued looking around, and said “So, what’s next?” HA. Mom thought that was hilarious. I would soon learn that she not only wanted to see the inside of this cathedral, she wanted to inspect every last square inch, take note of every sculpture and piece of stained glass, and basically check the building for structural soundness. :)

The First Bus Ride

Before we left for Italy, Mom and I would sit for hours and plan the details of our trip. We each picked out places we wanted to visit, things we wanted to do, and tried to think of things we would need to know before we landed ourselves in a foreign-speaking country. Mom purchased several travel books, which of course had some common and useful phrases translated into Italian. Being the dedicated, diligent traveler, she wanted to learn at least some of the basics in Italian to help in our day-to-day adventures. She asked me if I was going to learn any Italian before our trip, and I said “Nah.” She said, “Well what are you going to do when you need to say something to somebody? “ I said, “I won’t need to speak to anyone over there except you, and you speak English.” She said, “What about in a restaurant, when you’re trying to order food?” I said, “I’ll point” and I held up my finger and demonstrated with prideful satisfaction.

When we finally arrived in Florence, 13 hours after leaving Atlanta, Mom and I were both dead on our feet. You know that level of exhaustion where you cannot think clearly, let alone navigate in a foreign country where you don’t understand the native language. We made it out of the airport, and across the street to the bus stop. The plan was to ride the bus to the train station, and take a train to Pisa. Standing at the bus stop, backpacks strapped on, suitcases the size of Pisa itself sitting beside us, we waited. We had gone to an ATM inside the airport, to get some money out in Euros. The smallest currency we had was 50 Euros, or roughly $75. We panicked for a bit, trying to decide if we should go back in the airport and get change, wondering if the bus driver would take such a large amount, if he would even have change, and most importantly, how the heck we would ask him whether he would take that amount and if he had any change.

So, when the bus finally arrived, I left my poor mother standing on the sidewalk with our mountain of baggage, and joined the crowd of people who were filing onto the bus 4 at a time, and paying the driver 1 at a time. When it was my turn to hand my money to the driver, I held up two fingers to indicate that I wanted two tickets, and I shoved the 50 Euros into his hand. He didn’t bat an eye as he handed me my change and two tickets. Success! Except that my mother and everything I owned was still sitting outside the bus on the sidewalk. Looking back over the heads of fifteen people, I looked at her helplessly, wondering if I’d ever see her again. Haha. I must have really looked that forlorn, because some of the people in line behind me saw what was going on, and allowed mom to squeeze through, and even helped us get our luggage onto the bus. Now if I had attempted to get on that bus and say in Italian “Two tickets please” and “Do you have change for a 50?” I probably would have butchered the language, and landed us in some unknown, forsaken desert in Italy. You may be thinking, “There aren’t any deserts in Italy” but that’s what they want you to believe. It’s where they toss all of the idiotic tourists who hold up the line at the bus stop.

Tuna

My mom and I went on a trip to Italy last May. It was so much fun, and Italy was absolutely amazing, with breath-taking scenery. I would go back in a second. Mom and I talk about our trip frequently - about the funny things that happened, the things we would like to go back and see or do, etc. Anyway, we just had so much fun, and we had a few pretty funny stories, so I thought I’d share some of them here.

Oh, and don’t worry, I am not secretly blogging during basic training. I discovered the secret of scheduling posts for future dates. Hahahahaha. I’m so clever it’s kind of scary. ANYWAY, the next several posts will be Italy-related. So grab a coke, sit back and enjoy. But do so with guilt, knowing that is probably NOT what I am doing right now… =)

Our “home base” while we were in Italy was the city of Pisa. On some days we made day trips and then returned to Pisa for the night. On other days we traveled further distances and would spend the night in another city. But, let me start from the beginning:
We departed from Atlanta on an evening flight. We were flying from Atlanta to Paris, and from Paris to Florence. We were served dinner first… I think it was pretty late, maybe around 9 or 10 pm? After dinner the flight attendants gently closed the shades on the windows, and pretty much everyone leaned back, sighed a collectively cramped sigh, and tried to sleep. Much the same way a sardine tries to catch some shut-eye when he’s in the sardine can with his buddies.

About 4 hours later (yes, 2 am), the flight attendants, who only hours before had seemed human, snatched up the window shades, allowing a brilliantly bright light to come flooding into the cabin. “Surely not,” I thought. But surely indeed… A few seconds later I heard “good morning everyone, breakfast is about to be served.” Come on people. It’s 2 am. You can try to trick me all you want with your sunshine and perky attitudes. But I have on a watch. I am not fooled. It is TWO FREAKIN O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING. So while I’m still reeling from this unpleasant jolt of morning perkiness, they begin serving breakfast. I don’t remember everything that was in that breakfast, but I remember one thing that was on my plate – tuna.
So, after a trilingual greeting over the intercom: “Good Morning, Bonjour, Buon giorno,” I ate my breakfast. Tuna. At 2:00 in the morning. At least it wasn’t sardines.

Note: At least 3 of our subsequent in-flight meals included tuna. blech.

Leaving

For the last five or six years I have been interested in joining the Air Force. Up until this year, I had talked myself into thinking that it was a crazy dream that I shouldn’t try to pursue… that I wouldn’t have what it takes, and that the desire would pass in time. But it did not go away, and after lots and lots and lots of praying, I’ve realized that it truly is part of God’s plan for my life. I also have always been interested in medicine, and have had an overwhelming desire to help others. Which is what led me to the desire to pursue nursing. I just wasn’t sure how to go about getting through nursing school while holding down a full time job.

Now I am being given the chance to go for both dreams – the Air Force and nursing. I am so grateful and thankful, and I should be so full of faith. And I am, about 95% of the time. The remaining 5% of the time I spend wondering if I have what it takes. Not physically or even mentally… I know I can handle what’s coming once I get to Texas. It’s what has to happen before that. I don’t know how in the world I am ever going to say goodbye to my family and my friends. I have known no other life than the one I have here. I have gone to the same church my whole life, lived in the same city (or at least within a 20 mile radius of it) my entire life. Some of my friends have been with me from the beginning. We were in the nursery together, played on the playground together as kids, struggled through the awkward teenage years, and learned how to be adults together.

The concept of leaving is not a new one to me. What is new to me is being on this end of the goodbye. I have always been the one being left. Since I was a kid, I have grown attached to friends, only to have them move away and force me to say goodbye, and eventually (in most cases), lose touch. I have had people comment to me, “Gosh, everybody you get attached to really does pack up and move away, don’t they?” ha. So I am certainly no stranger to getting attached and having to let go. Again, what’s brand new to me is the whole experience of being the one leaving.

So please pray for me over the next few days, weeks, and months. I really am so grateful for this opportunity, and I am so thankful that God didn’t take this chance from me in spite of the fact that I took my sweet time to finally make the decision. But despite how obvious God’s calling on my life has become, it is still not easy to say goodbye.

The Beauty of Giving

God reassures one –
“See if I will not open the floodgates of heaven and pour out blessings.”

He instructs another –
“Do not become weary in doing good… As you have opportunity, do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.”

Both step out in faith and obey.

One asks.

The other gives.

Blessings flow and hearts overflow.

The beautiful harmony of this give and take touches the life of the giver as much, if not more than, the receiver.

There is nothing more encouraging and comforting than seeing firsthand how God provides for His children. It prompts further acts of faith, pulling more and more people into its cycle of give and take.

That is how life should be for Christians. When the constant ebb and flow of blessings pour from and into our lives, and the lives of those around us, life is beautiful.

The Golden Rule

“The entire law is summed up in a single command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” – Galations 5:14

“I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” – Matthew 25:40

“So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.” – Matthew 7:12

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you , so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” - John 13:34-35

“Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.” – Romans 12:10

“Each of us should please his neighbor for his good, to build him up.”
– Romans 15:2

In high school one of my teachers taught me something that has always stuck with me. She taught me that in all of our interactions with other people, we should keep the following thought at the forefront of our minds: “I have no idea what this person might be going through right now, so I will treat them with the utmost kindness.” A relatively simple approach to life, but so vital if we want to be ministers to others, and be a light in this dark world. When someone cuts in front of you in line at the grocery store, or some “jerk” in the car in front of you seems to have forgotten what the skinny pedal on the right is for…. Keep in mind that for all you know he may have a very good reason to be distracted. He may have just gotten some bad news, or lost his job, or lost a loved one.

*See through God’s eyes*
Ask God to help you see people through His eyes, not your own. It is truly an eye-opening experience because you will begin to see past the rough exterior, past the aggravating habits, and into the heart of someone who was made in the image of Christ. A person who is immensely vulnerable to Satan’s attacks unless he has someone willing to look at him the way his creator does. I have asked God to allow me to see people as He sees them, and at times it brings such sadness that I have to look away.

Next time you’re standing in line at Wal-Mart, or you’re waiting 16 hours to mail something at the post office, take a look at someone standing near you. Can you see it? If you picked someone well-dressed and successful-looking, then look past the designer clothes and picture-perfect hair. If you picked someone who looks a little less fortunate, look past the stained, torn clothing and unkempt appearance. Whoever you picked, look past those superficial, exterior things. Look into their eyes. Don’t you see it? There’s a hurt. And there’s a hunger. A hurt that could have come from any number of things. They may have been hurt emotionally, physically, or financially. Doesn’t really matter. And the hunger could be for food, attention, love, or appreciation. But it’s there. And you’ll see it if you decide not to brush past it in your rush to get out the door, into your car, and back home.

What can you do? Can you strike up a conversation with every person you see, determine what their need is, and then help meet that need? No, maybe not, but you can give them the one thing that every human being on this earth hungers and hurts for – kindness. Just by offering a smile and a kind word to that person, you may give them happiness for a moment, or you may brighten up their entire day, or you may fan a flame that God has started through the obedience of a faithful Christian. Why would an unsaved person ever ask himself “should I look into this Christianity thing?” if he cannot see a difference between the Christians and the non-Christians? For all you know, you could be the only occasion this person has ever had (or ever will have) to see Christ’s love.

*Be nice to everyone – even the mean people. Even when you don’t feel like it.*
Anybody can be nice to someone who is nice to them. If someone sees me showing kindness to a good friend, is that really a demonstration of God’s love to the fullest measure? Sure, we should be kind to our friends (don’t go punch your best friend the next time you see him or her). But what kind of witness is it to a non-believer when they see me always being kind to someone who is not kind to me in return?

We cannot base our actions towards others on our feelings. If you decide to wait until you feel loving and kind before you treat others with love and kindness, you will probably never act. Feelings are so fickle, and we cannot wait until we’re feeling a certain way before we do something God has commanded us to do. He didn’t say “When you feel like it, be devoted to one another”, or “When you’re in a good mood, build each other up”, or “IF your neighbor treats you well, then love that neighbor as yourself.”

Sleep... it's not for the undetermined

I recently started working a different (very early morning) shift at work. This past Sunday evening I was especially tired, so I decided to call it a day around 7:00 pm. I did my best to block out every trace of sunlight in my room, turned on my sound machine, attempted to read for a little while (about five minutes), then I was out. For approximately 15 minutes. I was jarred back into consciousness by the thunderous explosion of bass notes blasting through my bedroom wall from my neighbor’s apartment…

I immediately recognized the song (“Save the Last Dance For Me”), which is a song I actually like. But never before have I noticed that it has a very pronounced bass part – very cool I’m sure, to someone who is fully awake and alert, but quite maddening to someone who has just been jolted awake by it. This song was followed by several others, and it was during the second song that I realized my poor neighbor must have a hearing problem, because he KEPT TURNING THE VOLUME UP. Seriously, it was as if I had crawled onto the stage of a rock concert, laid my pillow on the bass player’s amp, and decided to try to catch some ZZZs.

Allow me to pause here and briefly describe the inverse correlation between my level of fatigue and my level of patience. I go through stages of irritability when suffering from sleep deprivation. With the first stage (mild drowsiness) I am able to remain fairly pleasant, with only occasional displays of annoyance. Think of a child, perhaps 8 years old, for this one.

The next level (moderate sleepiness) brings out some more, um… colorful…. aspects of my personality. I begin to zone out for longer periods of time, it becomes difficult to maintain focus on anything non-shiny for more than 5 seconds, my irritability seems to be triggered not necessarily more frequently, but more unpredictably. And my attempts at coherent conversation become strained, at best. Here, imagine a 3-year old child who missed a nap or two.

Extreme exhaustion is the final stage, and with it comes such symptoms as a blank stare, a complete inability to focus on anything (shiny or otherwise), and you can just forget about exchanging any type of intelligent dialogue with me. Also, there may be occasional temper tantrums, but only if something goes drastically wrong. And by “something going drastically wrong,” I am basically referring to any and all occasions in which I am forced to do something I don’t feel like doing (obeying traffic laws, standing in line anywhere, or behaving like a civil human being). I cannot provide a phase of life with which to compare this stage. This one may very well be unique to me. But maybe think along the lines of Jekyll and Hyde.

Anyway, I digress (lack of ability to focus… refer back to stage 2 if you have already forgotten).

Now, by nature, I am not a confrontational person. And I really don’t get angry often. Even if I do get angry I’m not going to be “in-your-face” about it. So when the bass notes began thumping through the wall directly into my head, my initial reaction was to calmly adjust the volume on my sound machine ever so slightly. As I should have expected, this did not solve anything other than removing my ability to recognize the songs being played…. thus leaving me to guess what the song was, based on the snatches of music I was able to discern above the now steady “rain” falling 2 feet from my head. So for the next few minutes all of my quickly draining energy was being focused on NOT guessing what song was playing.

Realizing this was going to last for a while, I jumped out of bed, angrily turned the sound machine volume up to the highest volume (labeled “deafening” on the side of the machine), flung myself back into the bed with a huff, and buried my head between my pillows. So my plan to quickly fall asleep to the gentle sound of raindrops pattering to the ground were definitely shot. Instead, I FINALLY drifted off despite experiencing what I imagine I would feel like if I were being smothered to death in the middle of a rock concert underneath Niagara Falls.

Give and Take

"Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen." 1 Peter 4:10-11

"So in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully." Romans 12:5-8

"Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers." Galations 6:10

It amazes me how God has created each of us so differently, and placed us together so perfectly that we are able to help Him take care of each other. The give and take, especially among Christians, is a beautiful thing to me. I have always enjoyed learning about Spiritual gifts, and about the “five love languages.” Both of these have been on my heart a lot lately.

My spiritual gifts are giving and serving. My primary love languages for showing love to others are gift-giving and acts of service. l am happiest when I am doing something for others, or giving something to someone. I love to shop for gifts for people, and I have been told I have a talent for finding just the right thing. Even more than gifts, I love doing things for people just to help make their lives a little easier. It is so humbling to know that God would allow me to be instrumental in making someone’s day just a little brighter and easier.

My primary love languages for receiving love from others are quality time and acts of service. I feel the most loved when someone is willing to just stop what they’re doing long enough to sit and listen to me for a little while. Or when someone goes out of their way to help me with something.

So God, being the creative, caring God that he is, places people in my life who receive love in the same way that I show it, and who show love in the same way I receive it. A bit of a tongue-twister, I know, but how amazingly brilliant is He to have all of that worked out?? It makes Christian fellowship and friendship so much more enjoyable and so much easier to experience. Yet we are still responsible for part of it. We must remain vigilant and constantly watch for opportunities to be a blessing to someone. More than that, we have to have the discipline and obedience to actually ACT on that still, small voice that prompts us to do something for someone.

One thing I have learned is that it is so important not only to act, but to act NOW, at that moment. When you are being led by the Spirit to do something for someone, give something to someone, or be something for someone, do it right then. By doing so at that exact moment, you are helping someone who needs it at that exact moment. Sometimes God asks us to do things that seem strange. Or to give things that seem like weird gifts. It may seem weird to you, but it is probably because someone in your life has a very specific need for it. Sometimes He asks us to do something small, and sometimes something life-altering. Doesn’t matter the size or the normalcy of the act, you have to do it to keep the cycle going.

I just can’t get over how clever it is of God to work all this out. The way we give and receive may seem trivial, but I think if you’ll take a minute to really think about it, and to think about the people in your life, you’ll see the same thing that I’ve noticed in mine. How frustrating would it be if I were surrounded by people who do not accept love through gift-giving or acts of service? How frustrated would I be if I had no one in my life who gives love by providing quality time? And how boring would it be if we all showed love the same way, and received it the same way?

God knows what we need. Not only that, he knows that we need the human interaction with other Christians, and he has come up with this incredible plan to allow us to be his instrument for ministering to each other. So I encourage you to find out what your Spiritual gifts are, if you don't already know. Discover what your love languages are. And then throw yourself whole-heartedly into serving God and His children with those gifts. You will not regret it.

God of Abraham

I am reading a book right now (it’s actually one in a series of books) that is centered on the life of Hezekiah, and I am learning a lot from it. A major theme in it is how faithful and powerful God is. God is frequently referred to in these books as “Hezekiah’s God” or “God of Abraham”. The most absurd thought sneaked into my mind as I was reading. I was thinking, “Why can’t these people just have faith and trust God, and quit trying to solve problems by themselves? If I had such a powerful God on my side, I would….” Of course as soon as that thought crossed my pea-sized brain, I realized… duh… I do. My God – my ever present help in trouble – is the same God who led the Israelites out of Egypt. He is the same God that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob prayed to. My God and Hezekiah’s God are one in the same. He is no less powerful now than He was then. So why does He seem that way? I think one reason is that we have tried to put God in a box. People today (Christians and non-Christians alike) seem to think it is necessary to assign definitions and limitations to every little thing in this world, whether material or immaterial. But God cannot be packaged or defined. Nor can any limitations be placed on Him. He is indescribable and all powerful. There is no way to fit Him into some neat, tidy little container, only to pull Him out during our time of need.

The next thing I’ve learned is how important it is to be whole-heartedly devoted to God. You’re either in or you’re out. Either you’re committed to serving God with all your heart, soul, and mind, or you’re not. There is no in between. It is not an option to tell God “You can have control of these aspects of my life, but not this one piece. That piece I will keep.” Doesn’t work like that. You cannot maintain an attitude of self-reliance along with one of total dependence on God. God gets total, absolute, limitless control of your life, or it just won’t work. If you don’t make it a priority to become wholly dependent on God in all areas of your life, God may just help you out. Sometimes all it takes is a huge, life-shattering crisis to bring us to our knees, and back to God. Might be less painful just to go ahead and get there before He has to bring the big guns out. Just a thought…

The other thing I’ve learned is that you can’t make your own plans, and then expect God to bless those plans just because you ask Him to. At one point, Hezekiah was faced with the threat of an Assyrian attack. His advisors were instructing him to either offer a tribute to the Assyrians (essentially becoming their slaves), or to form alliances with neighboring nations. He sent for someone to find Isaiah the prophet, so that Isaiah could provide him with God’s answer. But he quickly learned that wasn’t the right way to do things. He had basically formed two plans, and was asking God to pick one of the options, and bless it, and make it work out the way he wanted. God rarely works like that. When Hezekiah offered God choice A and choice B, God chose choice C: none of the above. God wanted Hezekiah to do nothing. Squat. He wanted him to sit and wait and be patient. He wanted him to trust. Not in his political advisors or in any allies. He didn’t want him to put his trust into his own armies, or even make any efforts to fortify the city walls. He wanted him to be still and know that He is God.

Sometimes God asks us to get moving, to take big steps, and be willing to risk much. But sometimes all He asks us to do is to be still (and pray),and do nothing else. Sometimes He needs us to stay out of the way, so that He can do His thing. Doing nothing can sometimes be harder than doing something. At least when you’re doing something you can see the results of your actions. You feel you are being obedient to God by doing. So how do you know when God is telling you to DO and when He’s telling you to WAIT? That’s where it becomes so vitally important to be as close to Him as you can possibly be.

You know what it’s like when you’ve been spent a lot of time around a close friend. You become so familiar with their mannerisms, gestures, thought patterns, and common phrases, that you pretty much know what they’re going to say before they say it. You can finish their sentences. You even pick up some of their mannerisms and incorporate their way of thinking and speaking into your own. That’s how we should be with God. We should be so close to Him that we know when a thought or an idea is from Him. We should be so close to Him that we pick up his way of thinking, and His characteristics rub off on us. And so close that we are able to hear that still, small voice that many of us have lost touch with.

Good Idea, Bad Idea

For those of you unfortunate enough to not recognize the title of this blog, “Good Idea, Bad Idea” is from the television cartoon show “Animaniacs.” During each cartoon, there would be a section called “Good Idea, Bad Idea” in which an animated figure illustrates a “good” idea – something harmless and socially acceptable. The figure then immediately illustrates a “bad” idea – something completely illogical or dangerously stupid. I was reminded of these delightfully cultivating cartoon snippets as I was contemplating the subject of this next blog.

How do you know if an opportunity is from Satan or God? Or anything, for that matter – a thought, a lifestyle, a decision, etc. How do you know the difference between a GOOD idea and a BAD idea? This may seem like a no-brainer, but in some cases it really isn’t. Trust me.

Sure, it wouldn’t be that difficult, if God only offered us obvious “GOOD idea” type of opportunities (e.g., “Go on this mission trip and let me be a blessing to others through you”), and Satan only offered up opportunities that are very obviously BAD ideas (e.g., “ Go stick your finger in that electrical outlet for a beautiful, do it yourself, at-home perm!”).
Most of us know, however, that this is not how life works. Sometimes we are faced with decisions, or we are given opportunities, that are a little more ambiguous. Sometimes it’s a bit more tricky to decide if something is a good or bad idea. When you find that opportunity is knocking at your door, how do you know if it’s the gentle tapping of the Holy Spirit, or the persistent, misleading knock of Satan with his bag of tricks? That’s my million dollar question for the day, and now here’s my final answer.

First, I think you have to take a step back and consider a few things:

Peace. Do you feel peace about the situation? I use the word “feel” here carefully, because we cannot trust our feelings. But we can trust the peace that passes all understanding. The peace that comes from the Holy Spirit when we are headed in the right direction. We are told to “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts” (Colossians 3:15). God has given us peace and the Holy Spirit to be the umpire in our lives, telling us what should be in (“safe”) and what should be out (well… “out”).

God’s character. Before you make the decision you’re thinking of making, or the opportunity you’re thinking of taking, ask yourself if it is in line with God’s character, and with his word. Some of his character traits include faithfulness, honesty, loyalty, truthfulness, patience, and selflessness. If you look closely enough, you can see what fits in with God’s character, and what doesn’t. If you sense a calling to become a highly motivated and successful thief, you can be pretty certain it’s not a calling from God, because stealing from others is not in line with God’s honest, selfless character. That’s an obvious one, I know. You should not only look at God’s character, but take a look at your own as well. Consider yourself and how God made you – your interests, talents, abilities. More often than not God leads us into things that fit in with how we were made and what we’re good at.

God’s voice. This one takes some practice. Get to know God’s voice so well that you immediately distinguish it from any other. As sheep, we ought to recognize our Shepherd’s voice. We should develop such a sensitive ear to it that, even when we’re cruising along the path we think we’re supposed to be on, we are able to slam on the brakes and make a U-turn if that’s what we’re told to do. There is nothing wrong with coming up with a plan, but be ready to ditch that plan if God tells you to. Proverbs 16:9 says “In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.”

Finally, you just have to take a step. Sometimes the only way to know if something is the right choice is to just start moving. Take a step in that direction, and see what happens. A door may be slammed in your face. You may lose your peace. Or you may find that your peace increases exponentially, and doors open for you in ways you never thought possible. You can’t drive a parked car. Think about how hard it is to steer the wheel of a car that’s sitting still, compared to when it’s moving. Get up and get going. Give it a shot and find out . There’s no point sitting around wondering about something when you could just give it a try and know for yourself. And I’m mostly talking to myself with this one…