Shore me up

I have been kind of in shock at the way God is confirming that He, in fact, does hear me. I want to clarify up front that God has NOT healed Judah. He has not made his belly pain go away. He has not even consistently deployed His Spirit to speak into the dark, sad, broken places in my heart and comfort me. What He has done is help shore up and mend my questioning and doubtful heart.

It all started two Friday mornings ago. I was doing my quiet time and the verse that went along with the day was Psalm 61:1-2 

Hear my cry, O God; attend to my prayer. From the end of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

We had been admitted the day before for possible pancreatitis. Then Friday, Judah had a massive headache after radiation that turned into a Rapid Response scare. Matthew and I were terrified. We kept looking at each other and then Judah, wondering if this was somehow the beginning of the end, already. The drs didn’t help our anxiety because it was obvious they were all very concerned. After 2 hours of multiple drs and teams and tests and checking on Judah’s state, it was agreed that Judah had a bad reaction to a new pain medication they were trying. The reversal agent would cause him more pain so we had to just wait 6 hours for it to wear off and for Judah to stop suffering. I forgot mention, Camilla Kate was with us at the hospital visiting. It was hell. I was overwhelmed with an intense need to be two places at once. I wanted to be holding both my babies, comforting them both for very different reasons. As I prayed for Judah to be ok, I prayed for Camilla Kate to be comforted and protected. And as I was praying, I felt myself sinking into that dark place where I am faced with grieving and comforting at once. I was sinking quickly, listening to Judah scream and watching Cricket hide.Then a prayer came to my mind from that morning. 

Help me release the burdens that preoccupy my mind and keep You at bay. Come near to me!

I repeated it over and over. I started to see. Return to the present. It wasn’t easy and the pain in the room didn’t disappear but I was ok. I prayed that Judah’s pain wouldn’t be more than he could bear. That the pain would would drag us closer to Him. That we could have more understanding and compassion for Judah. That if there was joy to been seen from this, we would have eyes to see it. Then Saturday morning a friend texted me a picture of 2 pages from a book. She told me God had brought the book to her mind and when she pulled it out, the pages were already bookmarked. It talked of pain, disease, prayer, miracles, and joy. A few excerpts spliced together: 

“We prayed that she would not have more pain than she could endure…the prayers never stopped, and the pain never got too bad to be relieved. As far as I am concerned, that is a miracle, corroborated by the doctors. Bethie wasn’t cured. She died. But she was healed. There’s a lot about this kind of healing that I don’t understand…And it helps, when we are praying for others, if we have some understanding of what we are praying about. I can pray better about pain, because I have had severe pain. Whether this my ill fortune or my good, it does help enlarge my capacity for compassion for those in pain…and out of the event in life which seem most negative, positive joys are born.”      

-Madeleine L’Engle, The Irrational Season

I read that text and wept. There are words from that excerpt that were almost exactly in my prayer the night before. God pulling at my heart, whispering “I see you”.

Monday morning’s quiet time started on Isaiah 60:20 

Your sun shall no longer go down, nor shall your moon withdraw itself; for the Lord will be your everlasting life, and the days of mourning shall come to an end.

The prayer that went along with that verse was so timely. 

Help me to see the light at the end of my tunnel. Sometimes I can barely remember what light looks like or what it feels like to have simple joy. Help me focus on You even in the darkness.

Judah was doing much better that evening so Matthew and I took the opportunity to go out to dinner while my Mom hung out with him at the hospital. We talked a lot about having/not having hope for the future. I was leaning in the direction of “preparing myself”. Matthew was incredibly gentle and patient, listening and comforting me, while also laying out where he landed on the idea of hope. Which happened to be wildly different than me. He explained that if we believed that he was going to die sooner rather than later, we would spend the rest of our time left with him, in early mourning. And if we believed he would definitely be healed, we were being purposefully naive and run the risk of minimizing the pain and fear associated with a terminal cancer diagnosis. He proposed that we sit somewhere in the middle. As I cried, he shared the concept of both grieving and being present. That crying and feeling deep sadness for what is happening now and what may happen is normal and good. But sitting in it, living in it, refusing to fight to get out of it, is unhealthy and unhelpful. That if we don’t look for things to be grateful for, little joys, we will miss ALL of it. He reassured me that the way I felt wasn’t wrong. That the suffocating feeling of his ‘last birthday’ approaching was right to feel. And also, that we have to give ourselves time to feel those feelings and then CHOOSE to come back to now. 

This man, that God gave me, knows me so well. Knows how to help and how to pull the yucky stuff out of me. Knows when to push and when to leave me be. And if I’m looking for something to be grateful for right now, he is it! And God used my prayer time that morning and our conversation that evening to nudge my wounded heart toward Him some more.

Wednesday, Judah had radiation and a g-tube replacement procedure. While Judah was down in radiation therapy, our Chaplain came by the visit. He didn’t stay long but the time he spent with me was reassuring and encouraging. I told him that even though Judah’s diagnosis was terminal, we hadn’t given up hope and were still praying for a cure/healing. He nodded and smiled. Then began to tell me about the Parable of the Unjust Judge, which I somehow had NEVER heard or read. And just in case some of you haven’t heard it either, here it is: 

Now Jesus was telling the disciples a parable to make the point that at all times they ought to pray and not give up or lose heart saying, “In a certain city there was a judge who did not fear God or respect man. There was a desperate widow in that city and she kept coming to him saying, ‘Give me justice and legal protection from my adversary.’ For a time, he would not; but later he said to himself, ‘Even though I do not fear God or respect man, yet because this widow continues to bother me, I will give her justice and legal protection otherwise by continually coming she will be an intolerable annoyance and she will wear me out’.
-Luke 18:1-5

This parable struck a chord in me. It is so easy for me to fall into despair when my prayers go unanswered. I don’t want to hope and have faith. I want the miracle and I want it now! But the Bible is clear on this topic. We are told to pray anyway! Matt 6:9-23, 1 Thes 5:16-18, Eph 6:18, Col 1:9, Heb 4:16, 1 John 5:14, Matt 18:20, Acts 2:42, Romans 8:25, Phil 4:6-7, James 5:16 all (and many more) give guidance on how to pray. And so we will continue to pray regardless of the outcome, clinging to the hope that God has unfulfilled promises for us.

A little later, I was perusing Twitter, which is usually not a good idea as it is filled with vitriol, and noticed my sister (twitter.com/expandyourus) had alerted me to a thread. I excitedly navigated there and began immediately to see God’s care for me. The thread was about lament, struggle, and pain. And it was a direct connection to the Chaplain’s words earlier today! 

Just because God never promised us the miracle baby, the anonymous check that magically cover all the expenses, or the physical healing on this side of eternity – It doesn’t mean I’m not still called to ask for them, again and again, humbling myself into what feels like outright naiveté and choosing the terrifying vulnerability of believing He just might do it – all the while submitting wholly to His will and acceptance that He may say no once again.
– Stephanie Tait (twitter.com/joyparadeblog)

God wasn’t whispering or nudging me this time. He was jumping up and down, shouting, “I’m here, see me? It’s me! I see you!” I have spent the last week reflecting on these three very poignant moments. I have talked about them and prayed about them. I have thanked God for His very real presence. His answer to my daily prayer that He would come near to me. And in these moments, day-to-day, woven together in a way that makes it impossible for me chalk them up to coincidence or love of friends, God shows me His hand. His care. God has not answered our prayers for a cure. For healing. He hasn’t said no either. And as a wise man told me last week, God’s will is at work in the 1st hour and in the 11th hour and all the hours in between. We will keep praying for healing. And we will keep submitting to God’s will, while hoping that God’s will aligns with our dreams for Judah!

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Praise him anyway

God I look to you
I won’t be overwhelmed
Give me vision
To see things like you do
God I look to you
You’re where my help comes from
Give me wisdom
You know just what to do
I will love you Lord my strength
I will love you Lord my shield
And I will love you Lord my rock
Forever all my days, I will love you God
Hallelujah our God reigns
Hallelujah our God reigns
Hallelujah our God reigns
Forever all my days,
Hallelujah
-God I Look to You, Bethel Church

A week ago today, Matthew and I waited with equal parts fear and hope, for news about Judah’s tumor pathology. The next day, our world was shattered and I told God I hated Him.

Over the last week, I have wrestled with my longing for the comfort only Jesus can offer, and my crisis of faith and trust in His goodness and love for me. I have asked myself what it means to trust in God.

Trust is a firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something. To set one’s hope and confidence upon, to be secure fearing nothing.

These definitions don’t lend themselves to trusting halfway. One either has a firm belief or they do not. When we set minds to something, that brings to mind a stubbornness, right? If I set my hope and confidence in God, then that shouldn’t waiver. Does that indicate that I didn’t trust God completely before? I cannot answer that. I can say that in 2013, I trusted God with Judah completely. I believed in His goodness and His vision. I believed He was working to complete a good work in us and everyone that knew Judah. Maybe that was because the Drs told us Judah had an 80% survivor rate. Maybe it was because his diagnosis came at a point in my life where I was diligent with my quiet time, verse memorization, and journaling. Maybe it was because I saw our faith and Judah’s fight bringing people closer to God. I watched my nephews ask hard questions and wrestle with what they knew of the Lord and what was going on with Judah. And they turned to the Lord. I saw God’s glory being magnified. The pain Judah was experiencing, the heart-hurt Matthew and I were living with, seemed to be ‘ok’ because we knew Judah would live and God’s kingdom was growing.

But Judah doesn’t have a life expectancy this time. People all around us are losing their faith in God’s goodness. Matthew and I are clawing to hold on to the belief that God is reliable. Loving. Powerful. We see many accounts in the Bible of God displaying His power and mercy so His glory would be known.

Psalm 106:7-12
7 When our fathers were in Egypt, they gave no thought to your miracles; they did not remember your many kindnesses and they rebelled by the sea, the Red Sea. 8 Yet He saved them for His name’s sake, to make His mighty power known. 9 He rebuked the Red Sea, and it dried up; he led them through the depths as through a desert. 10 He saved them from the hand of the foe; from the hand of the enemy he redeemed them. 11 The waters covered their adversaries; not one of them survived. 12 Then they believed His promises and sang His praises.
Habakkuk 2:14
14 For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of God, as the waters cover the sea.
Psalm 25:4-7
4 Show me Your ways, O Lord, teach me Your paths; 5 guide me in Your truth and teach me, for Your are God my Savior, and my hope is in You all day long. 6 Remember, O Lord, Your great mercy and love, for they are from of old. 7 Remember not the sins of my youth and my rebellious ways; according to Your love remember me, for Your are good, O Lord.

We are searching the expanse for a hint of God’s glory in all this pain. Every time I take Judah to an appointment, I say ‘Even now Lord. Even now You can show us Your great power and glory. Please. Show us Your glory.’ And then when nothing happens, ‘God, what are you waiting for? I do not understand. Help me understand.’ But I don’t understand. I want to see. But honestly, what could God show me that would make my son’s life a suitable price?

I have begun to talk to God again. I turned on  praise and worship music yesterday. I have opened my bible. I have even read some of it. I am still very angry. Still very sad. Very scared. And I don’t have unshakeable trust in God on Judah’s behalf.

But I am begging, on my face, at the throne of grace that God will spare Judah. That He will grant us mercy. That He will remind us of His love and presence. That He will hear the prayers of His children and grant our request. And I will keep doing that. Every day. Because, to paraphrase my sisters, whatever anger and disbelief there is, in the end, Jesus is the only way out of despair and hopelessness.

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July 3rd and remembering

What comes to mind when you think 4th of July? Traditions? Places? People? Fireworks? BBQ? For us, that question is simple. It is the holiday weekend when everything we knew about anything changed. The weekend all the fun plans went out the window. The race we had planned to run as a family. The sibling time staying up late movie-watching. The lake time with Dad. The yard games. The food Mom would prepare for us. The weekend we learned who our people were. Who our God was. It was the weekend we learned that Judah had a brain tumor. 

Tuesday, sitting on the porch at my parents home, looking at the lake, my older sister said, “5 yrs ago today”. That’s all she said. We all knew what she was referring to. Because for us, the 4th of July holiday is a harsh reminder that we are not in control and cancer is indiscriminate.

Judah got 2 fevers around the 4th weekend. He is getting chemo today. Needless to say, we didn’t need a reminder that Judah is battling brain cancer. And yet, Judah was present throughout our 3 days at my folks. He played the Ninentdo Switch with his cousins, teaching them to play his favorite game (Mario + Rabbids Kingdom Battle) and learning to play theirs (Fortnite). He watched Little Einstein’s (Pat Pat😂) with his Emmett and Stella. He came out for the fireworks, which he has never really done, and loved every second of the booms and lights. 

As I watched on, in awe of this kid who has sensitivity to loud sounds and has an acute memory for negative experiences, and thanked God for him. For the warrior He made Judah from the beginning. For the memory, now burned into my memory,  of my husband guarding and helping Judah assist him with fireworks. For my 4 oldest nephews who have never stopped stepping into the akward spaces with Judah to join him, encourage him, and accept him. For siblings who sit in the muck with us and play cards, cracking jokes, and lifting our collective spirits. For parents who help with it all without a smidge of martyrdom or jealousy.  For the sunshine and water and great books. For our 2 beautiful younger kids who are navigating Judah’s cancer better than I ever imagined while unknowingly wrapping up my wounded guilty-mom-heart with their smiles and requests for stories and snuggles. 

I have floundered the last 3 weeks. I have battled shame and disgust. I’ve been both bound up and emotional. I have been manic about tasks until I am no longer able to function and all the things fall to the wayside. My people love me anyway. But as I spin, my thoughts latch to the idea that I can wrest control from this cancer. And when I have enforced my control on all the moveable pieces in my world, making us all miserable, Judah still wakes in the middle of the night sick. His drs still don’t have answers. Matthew and I still have no peace or deep sleep. Because the idea of control is a lie. There is no control. There is only being confident in God’s faithfulness. And then moving, carrying all the swirling doubts if necessary, in the direction of the of the One who fights for us and goes before us. Every ‘yes’ and every step is progress.

The song giving me life this week is Oxygen by Stephany Gretzinger. A bit of it goes:

          Sometimes my very best

           Is only my weakest yes

          You see strength in every

           movement.

           Baby steps and short breaths

           Anything is progress

           You sustain my every moment

~Wendi

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Sleep, chemo side effects, and Jesus

I am a heavy sleeper. I love sleep and people who know me will tell you that I really do need 9-10 hrs of sleep a night to be my joyful self. So I go to bed early. Like at 9pm. I know! But I have learned that if I want to get all the sleeps, I have to forgo the TV and all that stuff and get into bed. I have even gone back to reading ‘dead tree’ books, as my husband affectionately calls them, to minimize the chances of falling into the endlessness of internet only to find that I’ve scrolled my way to midnight and kick myself because what had I actually read/seen that as worth losing precious shut eye?

All that to say, once I’m asleep, there isn’t much that wakes me. One of my children crying is one thing I ALWAYS hear no matter how asleep I am (fellow mommas nodding, right?) Another is the Holy Spirit. And that’s about it. Last night I was out cold, and had been for a few hrs, when I woke up for no apparent reason. When I say woke up, I mean wide awake! I looked at the time, after midnight, and then looked around the room. Nothing. Looked out into the hall and saw the bathroom light was on. And I said a quick thank you prayer because I knew then that one of my kids was sick. It wasn’t the fact that the light was on, cause my kids get up to pee in the middle of the night too. It was that I had been asleep and woke up for no apparent reason to find the bathroom light on. I knew this was a gentle nudging from Jesus.

I walked into the bathroom and found Judah a mess. He looked awful and told me he felt equally so. I asked him what was wrong and he said “my belly really hurt like I needed to poop but I was too late. And I feel like I’m gonna throw up”.  I told him is was totally fine and I would clean it all up. And I looked in his face and saw how embarrassed he was. So I got down next to him and said, “Hey Bug. I’m sorry this happened. Don’t feel bad about it ok? It’s so easy to fix this mess and it is 100% not your fault. This is the chemo rearing it’s ugly head.”

I prayed over him and for him, got him cleaned up and back in bed, and then set to cleaning up the hall and bathroom. While I cleaned I felt a crushing sadness. A feeling of helplessness. Weakness. How do we get Judah through this? What will it even look like to get him through this? And then there was the black hole…the what if’s taking over. I wish I could tell you I prayed or got my bible and read or even sang a worship song to myself. But I did none of those things. I scrubbed the floors and bathroom and cleaned myself up and crawled back in bed. I chose to ignore my feelings in hopes that they would go away if I just went to sleep. I slept horribly. I woke the next morning ‘tight’ inside. I knew I needed Jesus but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to Him. So Jesus crossed lines to get to me.

My phone pinged. A simple text message popped up on my phone. “I’m praying for you right now.” That’s all it said. But it’s all it needed to say. Cause in that moment I felt God’s love for me. And that made it possible for the walls to come down and me to see Jesus.

Sometimes the Holy Spirit wakes us up in the middle of the night. Sometimes He urges us to send a note, a text, to make a call. Sometimes He brings a friend to mind. My advice is to heed that prompting. Jesus may be using you to pull someone out of the the back hole of despair.

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We all want the miracle

Since Judah’s rediagnosis, I have found a renewed urgency to soak up God’s words. I remember the last time we went through all this, God had prepared me by giving me a desire to memorize His word. When I was afraid or sad or joyful, His word would linger in my mind, an encouragement to me. I sit here this morning, praying for a friend who is having surgery this morning, and I long for those scriptures I used to have at my fingertips! I have a distant memory of them, but have to look them up now. So as I’m thinking and praying, I know there is a scripture I want, I just can’t think of it.

But I call to God, and the Lord saves me. Evening, morning and noon I cry out in distress and He hears my voice. He ransoms me unharmed from the battle waged against me. ~Psalm 55: 16-18

We are distressed. We live in a time where the world feels sick. But I love this bit of scripture. “He ransoms me unharmed”. Strong’s says this word ‘ransom’, at its root, means to deliver, by any means, preserve, redeem, rescue. And how are we redeemed? Unharmed. Also translated as ‘in peace’. This Hebrew word is Shalem. It means to amend, make good, finish, repay, restore, recompense. So this doesn’t mean unharmed the way we think of it. It means, when He rescues us, He will restore us. This is a beautiful picture of love. Because love doesn’t mean we are always safe and happy. But it does mean showing up. Showing care. Participating in restoration. Now, more than ever, I need to know this.

Because we all want to experience the miracle, right? We all want to be the 1 in a million. And when we aren’t? What happens to our faith then? For me, it’s knowing that God promises restoration.  And He is moving in ways we cannot see for His and our good.

Would it be nice to have the rescue story? Of course. For now, though, we will allow ourselves to be satisfied by His care and provision. And we cling to hope, asking God to keeps us close and direct our steps.

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When it rains it pours (1)

This week has not been a great one for Judah though at the start of it, it looked like it would be great!

On Sunday, he and I went to Kingsport to help my younger sister after she had rotator cuff surgery. Judah and Will love each other and play the same way; that kind of sit with action figures, cars, whatever imaginary play. They had both been looking forward to it.

We got there around the kiddos bedtime so there wasn’t time for any activity. They just went straight to bed. Cara and I stayed up for a bit to talk and the retired to bed too. Around 11:30 Cara comes downstairs and says “Judah is saying his foot is really hurting him.” I figured it was cramping and told her to send him down to me, apologizing that she had to get up with him. A few minutes later, here she comes, CARRYING, my 9 yr old down stairs. Reminder: she had rotator cuff surgery 10 days ago. Isaid, “What are you doing?? Put him down! He can walk.” Little did I know, he couldn’t walk. She put him on the bed and I could see in his face that he was in excruciating pain. His foot was not swollen or bruised but touching anywhere on the top was more than he could take. Even touching the arch and pressing up was too much.

I started to rack my brain. He can’t have Motrin because it things blood and he is taking chemo that things blood vessels. He can’t have Tylenol because it masks fever and he has a port so if it got infected, he would get real sick real fast. 

I started to cry. I was, again, away from Matthew and Judah was hurting and I didn’t know what to do. So I laid my hands on Judah and prayed over him. I prayed to Jehovah Rapha to heal Judah’s foot. I asked him to relieve Judah’s pain so he could sleep. Judah even prayed for himself. Nothing changed. I don’t know what I was expecting but I will say I started to feel an anger I haven’t felt in a long time. An anger about the injustice my boy has lived through thus far.

After 30 minutes after trying to calm him, I called Matthew who I said, “oh yeah. He feel today and I thought to myself, he probably just broke his foot. You probably need to take him to the ER for an x-ray.

WHAT?!?

I wasn’t calm. 

Thankfully Cara brought ice and, after taking his temp and deciding it was worth the risk, I gave him Tylenol. He was able to sleep soon after. 

The next day, he wouldn’t put any pressure on it. In fact if he fogort and accidentally put pressure on it, he would cry out in pain. We kept ice on it but it didn’t seem to be improving. I knew we were going home Tuesday so I decided to wait. 

When he went down for a nap, I went out into Cara’s yard and did a prayer walk. By prayer walk I mean, I wondered around talking to God — voicing my anger and frustration that Judah keeps getting sick and hurt. That cancer wasn’t enough. My mind was fixated on a particular ‘why’. Why does he have to fall and possibly break his foot when he is already fighting cancer? Why, when he never has energy or desire to do much of anything active, does he have to get hurt playing outside with his sister? I felt so abandoned. So alone. I prayed for Jesus to show me a bit of His love for me. For Judah. 

I listen to praise and worship music all the time. Most of those songs talk about God’s faithfulness. His ever presence. 

·Before I call, before I ever cry

·You answer me from where the thunder hides

·I can’t outrun, this heart I’m tethered to

·With every step, I collide with you.

~Fierce, Jesus Culture

It’s weird. I didn’t feel abandoned because of Judah’s cancer. I felt abandoned because of all the other stuff. The anger he has, the fevers, the not eating, the cramps, the broken foot. Where my heart is, I felt empty. Did I do something? I didn’t know what else to say. I was sad and angry. I needed Jesus. My strength was but a breeze compared to His hurricane. My peace was turmoil. It was all a mess without Jesus.  

After a couple of hrs, I went to ck on Judah and he was awake. I asked him how he felt. How his foot was. He said, “it feels better, I think. I can move it around!” And he wiggled his toes. And I cried! “Thank you Jesus for showing us Your love!” And Judah said, “yes!”

God is good. And He loves us with an undying, undeserved love. It is easy to have nothing but apathy for God when things go wrong while giving people all the glory when things go right. We have to learn not to divorce those things. God is good and bad things happen. God uses His people to love His people. (~Cara Mcmillin)

The rest of the week in the next post.

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Orange and White Game and fun with friends!

The Thacker’s got to take 2 of our favorite families with us to the sky box for the University of Tennessee Football Team’s Orange and White Game. I was nervous about how Judah would feel after chemo, knowing it would be a long day. But he did great!

It didn’t hurt that his favorite 2 people were with him. Both so thoughtful and sensitive to what he needs. He truly is so blessed to have these 2 amazing kiddos as his bffs! Listening to Berkley (whose parents are Bama/Auburn fans) cheer “Go Orange Team! Go White Team!” was a highlight for sure. That and seeing Berkley and Maddie in Tennessee orange of course! Lucas and Felicity fit right in with Berkley and Maddie. Lucas stuck right by Judah’s side, which I find to be one of the most endearing and Spirit filled actions. That kid is special!


We ate great food, the kids had about 3 ice creams each and a bunch of popcorn, and we adults had a great time just being together in a great venue. Neyland Stadium is fantastic!

Also, I totally geeked out when I saw Grant Williams in the main area. I was so thrilled that he was such a kind guy. he signed Judah’s popcorn box and took a picture with him! He didn’t have to do that but I am so grateful he did! Go Vols!

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Reckless Love

The Sunday after we found out Judah’s tumor was growing again, we went to church. There were many who didn’t understand WHY we would want to go, knowing we would have to answer the questions:
How are you guys?
How’s Judah?
I knew those questions would be hard and that I couldn’t even really answer them and that our people loved us and would hold us close. But I also knew I needed to worship.

Worship music is my path to Jesus’ feet. Without it church is very difficult for me. And Matthew knows that about me. So we went. The music was on point and I was singing and communing the way I was longing to. And then the band played, what was a new song to me, Reckless Love by Cory Asbury.

Guys, let me just tell you, my body reacted before I knew in my heart what was happening. Viscerally. And I was overcome. As the words washed over me, Matthew holding me up, I gave up the pretense that I could do ANYTHING without Jesus. And just in thinking that sentence, ASSURANCE.

Don’t misunderstand me. There was no Godly promise that Judah would be ok. Or that Matthew and I would be the rock Judah needed. The assurance was that Jesus knows my sorrow, my fears, my anger. And He loves me. Assurance that He knows Judah’s fears, his anger. And He loves Judah. In fact, Jesus loves Judah more than I do. And that love leaves the ninety-nine for the one. It gives new mercies every morning. It is free and undeserved. It is faithful and endures forever.

And that is the love that will hold me- and Matthew, Judah, Camilla Kate, Emmett and everyone of the sheep of His pasture. That is His promise. No matter what.

Reckless Love (chorus/bridge):
Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God.
Oh, it chases me down
Fights til I’m found
Leaves the ninety-nine
I couldn’t earn it and I don’t deserve it
Still You give yourself away.
Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God
There’s no shadow You won’t light up
Mountain You won’t climb up
Comin’ after me
There’s no wall You won’t kick down
Lie you won’t tear down
Comin’ after me

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Judah becomes a grumpy teenager

by: Cara McMillin

Today Judah woke up as a grumpy teenager.  He was quick with sharp toned one word answers, mean to his parents and siblings, and generally emotional.  By lunchtime they hadn’t done any school work and his mood had not improved.  Then this happened:   *Cricket is Camilla Kate

Judah to Cricket: You are as useless as purple Pokémons!”

Cricket: No I’m not! I’m bright and useful! (While crying)

Judah: Who cares what you think.

Wendi: Ummm I’m not sure how useless purple Pokémons are but Cricket is right, she is bright and useful and you will not put people down to make yourself feel better. Your tongue is powerful. It has the power to heal and break. What is Proverbs 12:18?

Judah: (insert grumpy teenage voice) “Thoughtless words cut like swords, but the tongue of a wise person brings healing.”

Wendi: So I want you to think of 2 adjectives that describe your sister and heal her.

Judah: (pause for 10 mins) Funny and playful, maybe.

Wendi: Great. Go tell her that. And on the way think of a Pokémon that is funny and playful and tell her that she is like that!

Judah: Cricket you are funny and playful. Not useless. Like a Pink Pokémon not a purple one. (Now he’s crying).

The truth is in him and it will win out in the end.  As of now no school work has been done and he is asleep.  On the plus side Wendi is taking the chance to spend some sweet one on one time with Camilla Kate and a new phrase has been born, “You really purple Pokémoned that one!”

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the head/heart divide

My God is good. And Generous. He is merciful and kind. He washes me with grace again and again. Yet I struggle to have faith like a child.
It is confusing to me the heart/head divide. That in my heart I know my God will surround me and lift me up. That He will not abandoned me in my time of need. That he rescues those who love Him and call on Him. But my head, the stubborn and divisive thing it is, reminds me that God being good and bad things happening aren’t mutually exclusive. My head, which can reason me into a fear spiral, says God will do whatever He can to bring his people to himself. That His will often doesn’t match the longings of my heart.
This is when the anxiety begins to eat away at my faith.
I turn to His word, which has never failed me. I read and I pray and sing worship and I cling to hope. And remember that He is good and He loves me with a ridiculously compassionate love.
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