I have this really good friend who has walked a similar path as I am walking as well as many others in my life. From time to time, usually just when I need to hear it, she will remind me the God is still in the miracle business. She said it this weekend about another situation. I thought at the time how much I yearned to see a miracle – one in my life or my son’s. One in a close friend who is so burdened. One in a family member’s life who is dealing with some hard things. One that erases the pain of addiction or mental health issues, the pain of physical challenges or relationship challenges. The burdens of this world are great. I need hope. I need God of miracles.
There’s a song that Third Day sings and the words to the chorus are:
Well no matter who you are and no matter what you've done
There will come a time when you can't make it on your own
And in your hour of desperation
Know you're not the only one
Prayin', "Lord above, I need a miracle
I need a miracle"
My heart is tender and yes, I need a miracle.
Certainly there is a desire for relief. But I think I really just need to see God’s hand in motion. We are surrounded by miracles every day. Sunrises and sunsets. Births and unexpected blessings. Grace is evident everyday if we look for it. But we humans often really need to come to that place of desperation before our eyes can be opened to the grace of God in action. I had the privilege of getting a glimpse of God’s miraculous intervention in a Facebook post shared by a woman who I met on my trip to Africa about a family whom she knows. For some reason I decided to read it on Wednesday when I saw the post come through. And I cried as I read. My heart was touched by a family I don’t even know. The story was of a mother and a baby born 14 weeks early in Aug at 1 lbs., 1 oz. and had been in the hospital ever since struggling with respiratory issues from her premature birth. Mid-day last Wednesday, Sweet Sophia Marie’s mother’s anguished post said that the doctor had come by to let them know he was disappointed that their sweet baby girl had barely responded to treatment. He was giving her 24 more hours but beyond that there was not much more to do. That post ended with “I’m falling on my knees and face to God begging him for a miracle.” Tears ran down my face thinking of what this woman faced. All she knew to do at this moment was go to her knees before God.
This woman was desperate for a miracle. And then God answered with just that. 5 hours later there was an updated post- with the minister and family there, the doctor came running in after looking at x-rays to let this grieving family know that her lungs were 5 times clearer than the day before and he was going to “stay the course and keep trying”. Supernatural healing. Doesn’t it just give you chills and bring tears to your eyes. God is a God of miracles. He is a God of hope.
Don’t you wish your challenge would suddenly be 5 times better than yesterday? Don’t we all just want a little hope that things will be healed or even just that burdens will be lessened? Don’t we just want hope that it doesn’t only rely on our ability to cope or know the right next step? Don’t we want hope that our battle is not dependent on our strength? And don’t we all think at times it really would take a miracle to feel that hope again?
I think of the story of David and Goliath. David who was just a boy approached Saul and offered to fight Goliath. His strength came from a faith built through his experience of God’s deliverance from other battles. His words were, “The Lord who delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of the Philistine…You come against me with sword, spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord God Almighty.” That small boy with a sling and stone and big faith killed that giant. Now that’s a miracle. Not just that Goliath was killed but that God had developed such a faith in that boy and used that faith as a catalyst for the miracle experienced that day by all who watched. I know many people today who are up against their Goliath. They need that same hope and faith of David. They need a miraculous deliverance. They need a person just like Sophie Marie’s mother willing to go to her knees before God begging for a miracle and willing to be so transparent about their faith and reliance on God and his strength to be an example of humility and reliance. They need hope in a God of miracles.
This verse in 2 Chronicles was sent to me in the last week and speaks to that deliverance. “This is what the Lord says to you, do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army, for the battle is not yours but God’s.” I love that and have shared it. I read it to myself- “Sallie, do not be discouraged because of your son’s addiction or (fill in the blank) for this is God’s battle to fight. Now that’s hope and to really trust that God is fighting the battle on our behalf opens our hearts up to experience a miracle.
If there is anyone out there is who is struggling today and in need of hope or a miraculous intervention- YOU.ARE.NOT.ALONE.
And in your hour of desperation
Know you're not the only one
Prayin', "Lord above, I need a miracle"
My heart is tender and yes, I need a miracle, too. I pray that our eyes are open, our heart is willing and our faith claims that God has got this. He is a God of miracles and of restoration and a peace! Amen!!
Today I run with the hope I see in the miracle of the healing of a special little baby. And, please say a prayer with me for the continued healing of little Sophia Marie and for all those who are praying for a miracle tonight.
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Friday, February 6, 2015
Time to be still and feel God's presence
Let me first give you a “length alert”. I haven’t written in a while and my heart is full. So, grab a cup a coffee…
This isn’t the first posting that I have started with… “I am on a long dark plan flight home”. It is also not the first plane flight home that I have sat with tears streaming down my face. The last three flights home have been tearful ones. On the flight in January, the flight attendant quietly tapped me on the shoulder with tissues as I watch the movie, “The Good Lie” about the Lost Boys of Rwanda. I was so lost in the pain and grace of the story that I didn’t know how many tears had poured down my face. To be captured by the story of our lives, holding both the pain and the grace of it is to be vulnerable and open to God’s power to heal, transform and love us no matter where we are. Today, I just finished reading Karen Tippetts’ the hardest peace. She beautifully and vulnerably describes her faith journey through her story of dealing with stage IV terminal cancer as a young mother and wife. So, you can imagine the tears on this flight.
You may think it’s a little weird to cry as you head home on an airplane. Part of what allows the barriers to come down is not only what I may be watching, or reading, or experiencing but the gift of time. My life is full of tasks and responsibilities, people to care for, and a schedule of my own making. But when I get on these long flights with no one I know, no cell phone connection or internet, no emails, messages, children or puppies. I have the gift of time. Time to be still and to breathe. Time to acknowledge my life circumstances, my feelings and my fears. Time to let down my walls in the darkness even among all these strangers. Time not to let the noise of life drown out the yearnings of my heart. Time to be still with my story.
This is my 3rd trip to London since mid-November. I have had challenges to deal with which have been quite a burden for all those involved. But this trip, I saw glimpses of healing and progress. Last night as I returned home from a fun dinner with a sense that things were moving forward, I was stopped and smacked with life’s brokenness. I saw a missed call from my middle son who had also sent a text that he was in lockdown in his classroom at college. There had been a campus shooting. They were fine but waiting for the all clear. Talking about losing your breath over a message! I was able to get him immediately . Thankfully, he had been released and was back in his dorm. Sadly, a professor and student were now dead in a murder-suicide shooting. This is a broken world. And as I was talking to him, my oldest son was calling in. Once I returned that call, he let me know he had continued (now for 10 days) to deal with nausea and vomiting and was undergoing multiple tests. They had ruled out some things like Gall Bladder issues and had scheduled an endoscopy for the next day. Then, I followed up on another work message only to learn that that there was some turmoil over a project that I thought was on good path forward. All in about 20 minutes.
Thank you, sir, may have I another…life’s slaps that is…brokenness- it’s all around and takes many forms. So, I took a breath, packed my bags and went to sleep preparing for another day.
In the early morning, I was quieted by the week and the events of the night before. Even in the quiet of the early morning, in London, like any large city, the streets were busy with commuters hustling into the city. So I had a good 45 minutes or so just to watch out the window and take it all in. Time to be still… And in the quiet as the sun was rising, we drove past the Tower of London, London Bridge, Westminster Cathedral and Buckingham Palace. I thought to myself how wonderful it was to have the heritage, beauty, and strength of those historical buildings anchoring the evidence of the modern, chaotic life of today. It occurred to me just how important it is to have that type of beautiful anchor in the midst of the chaos, demands and brokenness of our daily lives. I could enjoy the bumper to bumper traffic because I could focus on the beauty of my surroundings and all that it represents. Life is always a mix. Even in the darkest moments you can focus on your faith and the little whispers of beauty that are there like the stars at night and the early morning songs of the birds. There is comfort to be found. Be still- look, listen and just rest in the fact that God is present.
Even last night, I did experience laughter at dinner. My middle son was ok and thought to call me to let me know he was ok. My oldest does not have to have Gall Bladder surgery which could jeopardize his sobriety from pain meds. There were no problems so I didn’t even hear from my girls. I can be still- and be grateful in the fact that God is present with not only me but my family in my absence.
I have had a number of conversations over the past few weeks and opportunities to read and hear others’ thoughts through books and videos that have touched my heart. One Ted Talk I watched was a woman that one of my friends had mentioned named Brene Brown. She has done research on the concept of shame and was talking about vulnerability and failure. She reinforced that although when we are vulnerable in front of others, we often feel weak. Others more often see courage in that vulnerability instead of weakness. Failure is a chance to grow and to be strengthened. It does not have to be a badge of weakness. In fact, it is an opportunity to lean on our faith for strength and to move forward. One of my favorite verses assures us that in our weakness, we are strong through the power of Christ.
Over the course of the past couple of years through this journey of recovery that I have gone on along with my son, I have had the privilege to connect with others who have been very transparent with me regarding their struggles and those of their loved ones. Many of these people have only known me through my blog, messages, and connections of other friends. And many, for whom I have never heard their voice or seen anything other than a Facebook picture. But still, I feel a holy bond- God has brought us together in our brokenness to encourage and strengthen us. I am thankful to serve and to be his hands and feet to others and also grateful for how he loves me and makes his presence known through the hands, feet and stories of others. A certain mother whom I have only messaged with came to my mind a week or so ago. She has been vulnerable and shared her story with me, a virtual stranger. I knew she was in the thick of finding her precious child the support he needed to fight his battle with addiction. I sent her a note to let her know that I was thinking about her and praying for peace. We exchanged some messages. In one of mine, I said that it truly is one day at a time. Her response back was that sometimes it is one breath at a time. How true that is! But sometimes that is such a gift. When we feel we must focus on one breath at a time, we can be forced to be still. To be broken, to be vulnerable, to be reliant on the One who knows our most intimate story. The One who can and has already handled the brokenness of this world and of our stories. The One who is present and lives in and by our side every day, every step, and every breath.
the hardest peace really brings this home. Although every page touched me, there are some thoughts I will leave with you. You see I wish I could say that every episode of pain and brokenness is resolved in a way that we would choose for it to be. A season of pain never to be revisited. But, marriages still fail, jobs are lost, people still die of cancer, kids rebel, they relapse, and sometimes addictions take them from this world. There are hard places and dreams that are never realized and grief for what was or could have been on this earth. Karen Tippetts describes these struggles in such a vivid and palpable way. “The unexpected pain of life often leaves us only with the choice of how we will endure it. It could be a marriage you didn’t expect to break, a job you thought you’d never lose, a difficult child to raise. We all have an unexpected hard, how do we face it?…I never expected to be planning my funeral, counting my moments, or fighting for my next breath in my thirties.”
There are certainly things in my life that I didn’t expect, want, or know how to deal with. My dark nights. I know you have had them or may be experiencing them right now. You are vulnerable. You are managing one day, one breath at a time. Hanging on sometimes with just a sliver of faith and hope or even just a statement of what you believe even when your heart questions it. I, too, have had those days. How have I faced it? I have clung to my faith as my anchor. I have clung to the verse in Corinthians that assures me out of weakness comes strength. A verse in Psalms that tells me that every day was ordained and written in his book, before one day came to be. Trusting God in the darkness when there is no resolution in sight is allowing for faith to be increased. I believe God is the Great Redeemer and is at always at work in the brokenness. It takes courage. And, faith builds courage.
Your story, my story, no matter how broken, is never too broken for God. Our stories are a place where a holy bond can be created with God. He is always with you. Cling to that for yourself and for those you love who are struggling too. Be still in the brokenness and take courage in that even if it is only one breath at a time.
I run this race of life one day at a time, one step at a time, and one breath at a time but never alone!
This isn’t the first posting that I have started with… “I am on a long dark plan flight home”. It is also not the first plane flight home that I have sat with tears streaming down my face. The last three flights home have been tearful ones. On the flight in January, the flight attendant quietly tapped me on the shoulder with tissues as I watch the movie, “The Good Lie” about the Lost Boys of Rwanda. I was so lost in the pain and grace of the story that I didn’t know how many tears had poured down my face. To be captured by the story of our lives, holding both the pain and the grace of it is to be vulnerable and open to God’s power to heal, transform and love us no matter where we are. Today, I just finished reading Karen Tippetts’ the hardest peace. She beautifully and vulnerably describes her faith journey through her story of dealing with stage IV terminal cancer as a young mother and wife. So, you can imagine the tears on this flight.
You may think it’s a little weird to cry as you head home on an airplane. Part of what allows the barriers to come down is not only what I may be watching, or reading, or experiencing but the gift of time. My life is full of tasks and responsibilities, people to care for, and a schedule of my own making. But when I get on these long flights with no one I know, no cell phone connection or internet, no emails, messages, children or puppies. I have the gift of time. Time to be still and to breathe. Time to acknowledge my life circumstances, my feelings and my fears. Time to let down my walls in the darkness even among all these strangers. Time not to let the noise of life drown out the yearnings of my heart. Time to be still with my story.
This is my 3rd trip to London since mid-November. I have had challenges to deal with which have been quite a burden for all those involved. But this trip, I saw glimpses of healing and progress. Last night as I returned home from a fun dinner with a sense that things were moving forward, I was stopped and smacked with life’s brokenness. I saw a missed call from my middle son who had also sent a text that he was in lockdown in his classroom at college. There had been a campus shooting. They were fine but waiting for the all clear. Talking about losing your breath over a message! I was able to get him immediately . Thankfully, he had been released and was back in his dorm. Sadly, a professor and student were now dead in a murder-suicide shooting. This is a broken world. And as I was talking to him, my oldest son was calling in. Once I returned that call, he let me know he had continued (now for 10 days) to deal with nausea and vomiting and was undergoing multiple tests. They had ruled out some things like Gall Bladder issues and had scheduled an endoscopy for the next day. Then, I followed up on another work message only to learn that that there was some turmoil over a project that I thought was on good path forward. All in about 20 minutes.
Thank you, sir, may have I another…life’s slaps that is…brokenness- it’s all around and takes many forms. So, I took a breath, packed my bags and went to sleep preparing for another day.
In the early morning, I was quieted by the week and the events of the night before. Even in the quiet of the early morning, in London, like any large city, the streets were busy with commuters hustling into the city. So I had a good 45 minutes or so just to watch out the window and take it all in. Time to be still… And in the quiet as the sun was rising, we drove past the Tower of London, London Bridge, Westminster Cathedral and Buckingham Palace. I thought to myself how wonderful it was to have the heritage, beauty, and strength of those historical buildings anchoring the evidence of the modern, chaotic life of today. It occurred to me just how important it is to have that type of beautiful anchor in the midst of the chaos, demands and brokenness of our daily lives. I could enjoy the bumper to bumper traffic because I could focus on the beauty of my surroundings and all that it represents. Life is always a mix. Even in the darkest moments you can focus on your faith and the little whispers of beauty that are there like the stars at night and the early morning songs of the birds. There is comfort to be found. Be still- look, listen and just rest in the fact that God is present.
Even last night, I did experience laughter at dinner. My middle son was ok and thought to call me to let me know he was ok. My oldest does not have to have Gall Bladder surgery which could jeopardize his sobriety from pain meds. There were no problems so I didn’t even hear from my girls. I can be still- and be grateful in the fact that God is present with not only me but my family in my absence.
I have had a number of conversations over the past few weeks and opportunities to read and hear others’ thoughts through books and videos that have touched my heart. One Ted Talk I watched was a woman that one of my friends had mentioned named Brene Brown. She has done research on the concept of shame and was talking about vulnerability and failure. She reinforced that although when we are vulnerable in front of others, we often feel weak. Others more often see courage in that vulnerability instead of weakness. Failure is a chance to grow and to be strengthened. It does not have to be a badge of weakness. In fact, it is an opportunity to lean on our faith for strength and to move forward. One of my favorite verses assures us that in our weakness, we are strong through the power of Christ.
Over the course of the past couple of years through this journey of recovery that I have gone on along with my son, I have had the privilege to connect with others who have been very transparent with me regarding their struggles and those of their loved ones. Many of these people have only known me through my blog, messages, and connections of other friends. And many, for whom I have never heard their voice or seen anything other than a Facebook picture. But still, I feel a holy bond- God has brought us together in our brokenness to encourage and strengthen us. I am thankful to serve and to be his hands and feet to others and also grateful for how he loves me and makes his presence known through the hands, feet and stories of others. A certain mother whom I have only messaged with came to my mind a week or so ago. She has been vulnerable and shared her story with me, a virtual stranger. I knew she was in the thick of finding her precious child the support he needed to fight his battle with addiction. I sent her a note to let her know that I was thinking about her and praying for peace. We exchanged some messages. In one of mine, I said that it truly is one day at a time. Her response back was that sometimes it is one breath at a time. How true that is! But sometimes that is such a gift. When we feel we must focus on one breath at a time, we can be forced to be still. To be broken, to be vulnerable, to be reliant on the One who knows our most intimate story. The One who can and has already handled the brokenness of this world and of our stories. The One who is present and lives in and by our side every day, every step, and every breath.
the hardest peace really brings this home. Although every page touched me, there are some thoughts I will leave with you. You see I wish I could say that every episode of pain and brokenness is resolved in a way that we would choose for it to be. A season of pain never to be revisited. But, marriages still fail, jobs are lost, people still die of cancer, kids rebel, they relapse, and sometimes addictions take them from this world. There are hard places and dreams that are never realized and grief for what was or could have been on this earth. Karen Tippetts describes these struggles in such a vivid and palpable way. “The unexpected pain of life often leaves us only with the choice of how we will endure it. It could be a marriage you didn’t expect to break, a job you thought you’d never lose, a difficult child to raise. We all have an unexpected hard, how do we face it?…I never expected to be planning my funeral, counting my moments, or fighting for my next breath in my thirties.”
There are certainly things in my life that I didn’t expect, want, or know how to deal with. My dark nights. I know you have had them or may be experiencing them right now. You are vulnerable. You are managing one day, one breath at a time. Hanging on sometimes with just a sliver of faith and hope or even just a statement of what you believe even when your heart questions it. I, too, have had those days. How have I faced it? I have clung to my faith as my anchor. I have clung to the verse in Corinthians that assures me out of weakness comes strength. A verse in Psalms that tells me that every day was ordained and written in his book, before one day came to be. Trusting God in the darkness when there is no resolution in sight is allowing for faith to be increased. I believe God is the Great Redeemer and is at always at work in the brokenness. It takes courage. And, faith builds courage.
Your story, my story, no matter how broken, is never too broken for God. Our stories are a place where a holy bond can be created with God. He is always with you. Cling to that for yourself and for those you love who are struggling too. Be still in the brokenness and take courage in that even if it is only one breath at a time.
I run this race of life one day at a time, one step at a time, and one breath at a time but never alone!
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