Chicken Surprise

Tonight for supper we ate grilled chicken. Tess wanted to display her
superior knowledge of poultry, so she asked a question,
“Do you know why they call it chicken?" She answered it too.
"Because, it is made of chicken.”

“You are right, Tess.” I commented.

This statement of the obvious was not so obvious to Amelia.
She was about to take a bite of her grilled chicken and stopped. She
looked at Tess and then at me. “This is a chicken?”

I nodded. Her eyes got larger.

“A REAL chicken?”

I nodded again. She looked at the chicken leg that she was still holding
in mid-air.

“A Boak-Boak (chicken sound) chicken?”

“Yes, Amelia, that used to be a live chicken.” I said.

She took a bite, shrugged her shoulders, and took another bite.

“Which part is this—THE BRAIN?”

She continued eating as I explained that it was the leg. Apparently,
she has no particular attachments to live chickens.

Sun Kisses

When I walked out of the hospital this morning, I was met by
crisp autumn air and bright sunshine. I love fall. It was weather
fit for pumpkin picking, leaf raking, and bonfire making.
As I drove home, I let the windows down in the van.
That cool, clean air swirled about, tousseled my hair, and
caressed my skin.  I took long, deep breaths.
"It is all so perfect, God", I complimented my Maker.

He said, "Good morning, dear one."

I thanked Him again as I neared home for the beautiful land
surrounding the subdivision where we live. There are lots of
trees-mature, gorgeous trees. The sun beams reached through those
trees to kiss the earth beneath. A fog clouded the distance.
It was such a lovely sight. I stopped in the middle of the road
to drink it in. I also took a picture to share it with you.

Good morning, dear ones. Have a blessed day.

Love,

Anna

Dying For Pink Hair

While brushing and fixing Amelia’s hair this morning, she commented,
“Momma, everyone has yellow hair….or brown hair…..or white
(her papa’s) hair.”

“Yes, Amelia,” I replied, “There are lots of different hair colors. Hair
can be black or red too.”

“Yeah, Momma, like PINK hair!” Amelia exclaimed.

I explained further. “There is pink hair but it isn’t natural. People have
to dye it to make it pink.”

Amelia answered, “Well, when I die, I’m gonna have pink hair. God’s
gonna say, ‘Your hair is so pretty, Amelia!”

Kristen

A lot of my writing happens when I wake up with something on my mind
and feel the need to go put it on paper. This morning I woke up with
my friend, Kristen, on my mind. I was dreaming a really weird dream
in which I was trying to get to her wedding. (A wedding to a man she
is already married to, even before I met her.) I kept getting lost or
sidetracked by someone or something. (I would go
into further detail but it was a dream and the details kept changing.)
I woke crying.The emotions of the dream were so real. I felt as if I had
let her down. She needed me to be there and I wasn’t.


I remember the moment I met Kristen so clearly. I was sitting in the
UNA library with the rest of the incoming BSN class of May, 2005.
It was a class to orient us to the library and man were we going to
need it! The presentation had not started and I was sitting there staring
straight ahead and praying that the tears that filled
my eyes would not spill over. I was 23 years old and too old to be
crying at school. I felt so overwhelmed. The instructors were laying
it on thick about how hard the program was. I was married with two
very small children, commuting to UNA from Corinth every day.
They had already mentioned that they didn’t care about that.
I didn’t know anyone there.

So, I was in the throes of feeling sorry for myself, when I looked
over to my left. A beautiful blonde girl was coming toward me.
Out of all the empty chairs, she walked up to one next to me, and
in a soft voice asked, “Is anyone sitting here?”

I was still trying not to cry, so I just shook my head instead of
speaking and tried to smile. I was a grown-up. I would have to
talk to people I do not know to make friends. I think I said
something about the class and asked her for her
name--Kristen from Baldwyn--I like the name Kristen. I saw
her wedding ring set. She was married too. We didn’t talk much.
The class started. I got over my tears for the 4th time that day and
settled in to learning the ins and outs of the library
computer system.

When the class was over, we had a break. I walked with Kristen
over to the Nursing building. We both were unable to buy a
Fundamentals book that day because the bookstore was out.
One of the instructors let us borrow hers. Kristen
and I did our first homework assignment over the same book.
We traded phone numbers just in case either of us needed one
another to ask questions.

That was all I remember about the first day, but that was the
beginning. We became fast friends. Fortunately, we were assigned
to the same clinical group, so we spent a good deal more time together.
There is a picture somewhere of our first day at the hospital in those
awful uniforms. I think she has it. She let me talk incessantly.
She laughed at my jokes. She was great to be silly with when we
were under all that pressure. We sat by each other in every class
and would squeeze in friend time during the breaks.

She and her husband, Tony, had an apartment there in Florence.
Whenever I needed something, they were there. When I had a flat
tire downtown, I called Kristen and she called Tony. I remember
sitting on the pavement watching him change it. I think that might
have been the first time I met him. They would let me come and stay in
their spare room when we had an early clinical. When I was too
poor to eat out they let me keep my bologna and cheese in their
refrigerator.

Kristen was more than my school friend. When someone at home
asked who Kristen was, I told them, “She’s my best friend.” She was
one of the few people in the world and the only one at school that knew
my marriage was hanging by a thread. She knew how broke I was.
She let me cry on her shoulder when I didn’t know how I was
going to make it through the next day, much less the next 2 years.

Their apartment was a safe haven for me. I could go there and feel
at home anytime. Tony and Kristen went home to Baldwyn most every
weekend. When God did a miracle in my home and Eric began to woo
me again, Tony and Kristen let us stay in their apartment in Florence for
the weekend because we couldn’t afford a hotel.

After I told Eric, I called Kristen when I found out I was pregnant
with Amelia. I was glad for another baby but I questioned God's timing.
I wasn’t sure of the dates and I didn’t know if I would be done with
nursing school. We were broke and living with my granny in her three
bedroom house. I was anxious about telling our families because they
were already helping us so much. Kristen knew all that and understood.

Over and over, she was there when I needed her. I know it was
probably difficult for her to be my friend at times but she bore it without
complaint or hard feeling. When life got easier she was there to share
my joy. After a year at UNA, Kristen and Tony left and went back home.
I know that she sometimes wonders why she even went to school in
Florence. I don’t know all of the reasons but I know one
thing—GOD KNEW I NEEDED HER. He allowed her to come there
so I could meet her and be her friend.

We are both nurses now, even after all of those days wondering if
we would ever make it. She delivers babies at the Women’s Center in
Tupelo. She is now the mother of 3 beautiful children. I got to be there
for the birth of all of them. We don’t get to talk to each other as much
as I would like. We hardly ever get to see one another either.
But a friendship like ours is a forever one. I just wanted to let you know
how much she means to me, and that I would never miss her wedding
if I could help it. I will be there if she needs me.

Hurling Hank

We have to pleasure of keeping my nephew, Henry, on most Tuesday
and Thursday afternoons. Henry is 5 months old. The children love
him so much. They beg to get to hold him. On one occasion recently,
it was Ty's turn to hold Henry. He had him on his lap in the floor.
Henry was smiling as Ty talked to him.

All of the sudden, Ty shouts, "Mom, Henry just spit on me!"

I got up quickly to get Henry's burp cloth. "It will be okay, Ty," I
assured him.

The girls started laughing and saying, "Eeewww. Henry spit up on Ty!"

"Momma, why does his spit look like that?" Ty asked as he gave Henry
to me.

I wiped Ty's arm off. "Because it has some food in it."

"Momma! That's not spit! That's PUKE! AAHHH!" He ran to the bathroom
to wash his arm.

This is Tess with Henry. He had just "puked" on me a few minutes before.

In the Waiting

Dear friends,


I asked God for something about a year ago. He didn't say yes. He didn't say no. He said, "Wait."
Yesterday He asked me to wait some more. I have been reading Satisfy My Thirsty Soul by Linda Dillow.
(I highly recommend it to anyone.) There is a chapter in it about waiting. At the end of the chapter, this poem is printed. Mrs. Dillow says she does not know who wrote it. It really spoke to me and I wanted you to read it.

Waiting

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried.

Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied.

I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate.

And the Master so gently said, "Child, you must wait!"

"Wait? You say, wait!" my indignant reply.

"Lord, I need answers. I need to know why!

Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?

By FAITH I have asked, and am claiming your Word

.

"My future and all to which I can relate

Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to WAIT?

I'm needing a yes, a go-ahead sign,

Or even a no to which I can resign.

"And Lord, you promised that if we believe

We need but to ask, and we shall receive.

And Lord, I've been asking, and this is my cry.

I am weary of asking! I need a reply!"

Then quietly, softly, I learned my fate

As my Master replied once again, "You must wait."

So, I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut

And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting...for what?"

He seemed then to kneel and His eyes wept with mine.

And he tenderly said,"I could give you a sign.

I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.

I could raise the dead, and cause mountains to run.

"All you seek, I could give, and pleased you would be.

You could have what you want---but, you wouldn't know ME.

You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint;

You'd not know the power that I give to the faint;

"You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;

You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there;

You'd not know the joy of resting in me

When darkness and silence were all you could see.

"You'd never experience that fullness of love

As the peace of my Spirit descends like a dove;

You'd know that I give and save...(for a start).

But you'd not know the depth of the beat of my heart.

"The glow of my comfort late into the night.

The faith that I give when you walk without sight,

The depth that's beyond getting just what you asked

Of an infinite God, who makes what you have LAST.

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,

What it means that 'My grace is sufficient for thee.'

Yes, your dreams for your loved ones overnight would come true.

But, oh, the loss! if I lost what I'm doing in you!

"So be silent, my child, and in time you will see

THAT THE GREATEST OF GIFTS IS TO GET TO KNOW ME.

 And though oft may my answers seem terribly late,

My wisest of answers is still but to WAIT."

"But as for me, I trust in You, O Lord,

 I say, "You are my God,

 My times are in Your hand."

Psalm 31:14-15

I trust you, Lord. I'll wait.

Love,

Anna

Tribute to Chief

A few years ago, our family pet, Chief, came to us. A friend of mine, who lives in Iuka called me and asked me if we wanted a dog. Rudy, my friend, said that someone had dropped a dog off at his house. They already had a couple and needed to find him a home. He said that he was a mix but that he looked like a golden retriever. Eric and I talked it over and decided it was time for a pet. We drove to meet Rudy and the dog at Tishomingo County High School. The kids liked the dog from the beginning and were really excited. We named him Chief because we picked him up where the Braves play.


Chief was a very skittish dog. He jumped at loud noises and did not let just anyone pet him. He had a problem with jumping on all of us. He loved to be petted and would not stop jumping on you until you gave him your full attention. That was not a very good thing when you are wearing…..say…. a white pantsuit. He did grow out of it though and became a very companionable dog.

He always came to say goodbye when we left home and came to greet us when we came back. He loved leftovers. He knew how to open the back fence with his nose and get out whenever we wanted him to stay inside of it. He had a couple of best friend dogs from across the road that he liked to hang out with. He never met a squirrel he didn’t want to chase. He trotted along with the children when they went biking. He liked to play soccer with Amelia. Tess loved to brush his golden coat. He liked to play chase with Ty. He always sat by my lawn chair at my feet when I read outside. He loved to lay right under the hammock so that the occupant brushed his coat as they swung to and fro.

Sadly, he met an untimely death yesterday. He was beloved by many. He will be sorely missed.

He's Still Workin' On Me

For those of you that were expecting really spiritual stuff all of the time, I’m sorry. This was a happening from my day. This is pretty typical, but it was funny, so I thought I would share.


I went to the Resource Center for Women to meet with my friends there. After my meeting with Martha, the director, I went up front to talk with Darlene, Rochelle, and Kristen. I wrapped up my chatting and headed for the van so that I could go pick up my daughter, Amelia, from preschool. I walked up to my van, pressed the unlock button on my remote and nothing happened. I pressed it again-still nothing. My van, even though I love it and it looks great, has almost 270,000 miles on it. Things like this are bound to happen. I had been hearing a strange noise when I locked the doors so I just thought that the automatic feature was broken.

I took the key and put it in the lock. It wouldn’t turn. I never use the key for the door. Maybe it never worked in the door? I step back and look at the side. I look in the window. Yes, that is my scratched door and all my kid’s artwork, toys, sippy cups, and half-eaten food in the back seats. This was a necessary step because I have tried to get in the wrong van before. There are a lot of gold Dodge mini-vans.

I sighed, pulled out my cell phone and called my father-in-law. Yes, he could pick up Amelia. He would check in with me later. Eric didn’t take his phone to work, so I would have to wait for him to call me. I was praying he would call me. I was supposed to meet him and get Ty and Tess.

I walked back to the Center. Martha met me in the hallway by Kristen’s office door. I explained to both of them what happened. As I was talking, I was breaking the remote open. Maybe if I shook the batteries, it would start working. Martha prayed aloud to ask God’s help. I put the batteries back after a good rattle. I’m sure that will work. Martha comes with me back to the van.

As I step out of the door, I start pressing unlock. As we pass Darlene’s van, I hear a click. I press the lock button. I see her locks move. I was baffled. I asked Martha, “Why are her locks working with my remote?”

I look down at the keys--a black remote, a large van key, a Kroger card, a gold house key, and a silver key. I don’t have a silver key on my ring. I look up at Martha. She asks, “Do you have Darlene’s keys?” I look in the front pocket of my purse. There is a set of keys in there--a black remote, a large van key, a Kroger card, and a gold house key. I look up and smile largely.

“Sorry. They look just like mine.”

I put the keys in Martha’s open hand. She smiled and shook her head.

I walked to my van, pressed the unlock button, and got in. When I went to talk to Darlene earlier, I sat my purse on her desk. When I got up to go and picked up my purse, I must have picked up her keys. We both have Dodge mini-vans. Apparently, we also both go Krogering.

As I drove out of the parking lot, I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving. I would be able to meet Eric on time. Amelia was happy with her Papa. I was very thankful that the problem was resolved in a matter of 15 minutes or so. It would have been so much more embarrassing if there had been a locksmith present. I am not sure of how this fits in the Grand Master Plan, but it made me laugh and I hope that it makes you laugh too. I am a work in progress. I am so glad to have good friends, family, and a VERY patient God.

Today We Danced

Monday, August 4, 2009


This happened this past Friday. I wanted to share it with those who have diligently prayed for me for so long. Your love and support means so much to me. I also hope that anyone who is in the midst of difficult circumstance might find comfort from it, knowing that God has not forsaken you. He loves you and walks with you. I hope that someday you will dance.

This morning, after Eric, Ty and Tess left for school, Amelia and I were alone at home. After the hustle and bustle of getting everyone out the door, it is usually very quiet. While I was cleaning up the kitchen, I decided to put on some music. The song that came on was "Who Am I" by Casting Crowns.

Amelia ran into the room. She was smiling from ear to ear. She always loves to listen to music. "Momma that is a song we have in our car!" (She was referring to the radio-KLOVE, all the time-except for the occasional Veggie Tales). She began to twirl around so that her nightgown would billow out. She ran around the counter pulling me into the open space. She held up her arms and exclaimed, "Let's dance!"

I scooped her up. She wrapped her body tightly around mine and laid her head on my shoulder. I snuggled her close and breathed deep to inhale the strawberry scent of her hair. We began to sway and turn slowly. She became still. We both were silent as we waltzed around the floor.

I listened to the words of the song:

"Who am I
that the Lord of all the earth
would care to know my name
would care to feel my hurt,"

I was overcome. My emotions were so contradictory. I felt so humble, so in awe of my King, but at the same time proud to be His child. We were His creation.

"I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow,
A wave tossed in the ocean,
A vapor in the wind.
Still you hear me when I'm calling,
Lord, you catch me when I'm falling,
And you've told me who I am.
I am yours."

There in the middle of my kitchen, our dance became a love offering of praise. As the song played, we danced for Him. Amelia remained still and silent. We held each other more tightly and stepped softly about the room.

"Not because of who I am,
But because of what you've done.
Not because of what I've done,
But because of who you are."

I was so full of gratitude, so consumed with joy.

"Who am I?
That the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love
And watch me rise again.
Who am I?
That the voice that calmed the sea,
Would call out through the rain,
And calm the storm in me."

"I am yours."

The day before, I had been sad. Life has been difficult this past year and a half. But at that moment, somehow, I knew that my time of mourning was coming to an end. He had carried us through another difficult circumstance. We had come through to the other side, hopefully changed for the better by His love and faithfulness.

I thought of our tomorrows. I know that as long as we live on this earth, there will be trials to endure and obstacles to overcome. But, because of my yesterdays, I know that the God that held me then, will not forsake me in the future. He will uphold our family in good times and in the hard times too.

But, today, I basked in His love. I reveled in His care for me. I worshipped Him as my Refuge, my Stronghold, my Healer, and my Sustainer.


Today.....we danced.

"There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven:-------A time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance."

Ecclesiastes 3:1,4

Do You Hear Her?

When I heard that there was an effort to create a home to help single mothers who need help, and get on their feet, I became so excited. At the Resource Center for Women, young people come in every day, that are stuck in the cycle. We help them with some of their immediate needs, counsel them, and love them, but we don't get to give them a home, help them get a job, or give them transportation to that job. We do our best to direct that young person to the places that can help them best, but sometimes it isn't enough.


A home where they can get a fresh start would be a God-send to these women. I have known times of need and have made mistakes. Thankfully, I always had a loving family and friends who were able to help me. These women don't have that. If someone cares about them, they are often in the same boat. Some are just victims of circumstance. How do you fight poverty with no weapon? No money, no education, no job. If you can get a job, how do you get there? Would you make any money after you paid for day care? Probably not.

Crosswind Ministries found a building where they would like start this home. Because of zoning issues they had to go before the Mayor and the Aldermen. The people of the surrounding neighborhood came and protested the use of the home for that purpose. 3 aldermen and the mayor voted no to the rezoning. You can read more about this on the Daily Journal web site.

But, like the others involved, I know that this does not mean that this is the end of that dream. God still wants us to love others and help them. He will help those who want to do those things. So this is what I want to ask of you:

How can you help?

Do you have time, resources, or love to give to these women? I know that sometimes we care but don't know how to begin. Now it is easy. You can join these other individuals who care and have a plan.

You know, the reason that the Indian doctors and officials didn't want to help the orphans was that they were of the lowest caste and because of their religious beliefs, they thought they should stay there. That they didn't deserve help because, they believe that God had put them there. When I told people here in the United States that, they were shocked. They couldn't believe anyone would act that way. But, if we don't help these women, their children, and all of the others who are on hard times and want to get out of it, are we not just like those Indian doctors and officials? Are we saying that because of the choices they made, that they deserve to be right where they are? Are we going to leave them in the gutter because we might lose something by giving to them?

Matthew 9:13 says, "But go and learn what this means, 'I desire mercy and not sacrifice, for I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance’."

Let us show mercy as we have been shown mercy. Let us LOVE mercy. I am glad that I am not where I DESERVE to be.

I heard this song this morning. I have heard it hundreds of times but it hit home today. Please listen to it and see if it speaks to you. It is Casting Crowns-"Does Anybody Hear Her?"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uhOJW4Uwy3c

Let me know if you want to help.

With love and in great need of mercy,

Anna

My Box

When I was small, my mother says she would put me in a cardboard box with some toys and I would play in it for hours. I have seen pictures of this. In one I am thinking of, I look like I am around 2 years old. I was big enough and old enough that I didn't have to be corralled. I could have climbed out. But I still played in a box. I was happy there. I wanted to be squeezed up tight with the things I liked around me.


When my mom talks about this, it really doesn't surprise me. When I became too big for the literal cardboard boxes, I sat in figurative ones. I was painfully shy. The only place I really wanted to be was at home. I only felt comfortable with my parents, my sisters and my brother.

A nervous, worrisome nature has followed me into adulthood. A lack of self-confidence plagues me. I wring my hands at the thought of meeting strangers. I am never comfortable speaking in front of others. Nothing outside of my box comes easily to me.

So how does a quaking, anxious woman leave her husband, her children, and her home, get on a plane, travel with a group of people she barely knows, go to a country that is so different from her own, to minister to a group of orphan children? And how do you explain the miracle that she did all of it with peace in her heart and with hardly a moment's worry the whole time?

There is only one answer. It was all God. You see, ever since I was a small child, the Lord has used this weakness in me to help me depend on Him. On my own, I am scared, lonely, and defeated. But with Him, I can do all things. I am never alone. Paul talks about his "thorn in the flesh" in 2 Corinthians 12:7-10. We don't know what that "thorn" was, but we know that Paul asked God to take it away from him. But God chose not to. The Lord replied, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness." Paul decided to gladly "boast of his infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest on" him.

Think about your box. Is He asking you to step outside of it? You may not have trouble with speaking publicly. It may be harder for you to have a personal, one-on-one conversation with someone you love. You may not have any trouble hopping on a plane and going to far off places. It may be more difficult for you to go to a different side of Corinth, where the people aren't just like you. You could find yourself more comfortable doing for the Lord when He is calling you to sit at His feet instead. Maybe you are boxed in financially. These boxes of comfort take on many shapes, sizes, and names. I pray that you can find a way to tear down the sides of it and expand your world. Allow God to work with your weaknesses so that He may be glorified. Let the power of Christ rest on you.

On my own, I could have found 101 reasons not to go to India. But my desire to serve Him, the desire to answer His call, compels me to leave my comfort zone. It is a nice, warm, and friendly place, but if I never left, I would not know the peace and joy I have when I say, "I place the unknown, my fears, my inadequacies, and my excuses at Your feet, Lord, and I will follow you."

We give all glory, honor, and praise to His name.

Love,

Anna

Bold

I am trying to think of a way to describe our automotive experiences in India. My friend, Judy, said it was like Nascar and that her husband would love it. The weaving in and out of vehicles and the speed at which we did those things makes that a good comparison. The only thing is that we were not wearing helmets and there were no ambulances standing by. There weren't any seatbelts either. With one close call, we were almost airborne. While Judy sang the chorus of "Jesus Take the Wheel", I tried not to look. At one point, to avoid my first panic attack, I covered my eyes, shrank in my seat, donned my sister Rachel's IPod and listened to "God of the Promise".


The bus that we spent all of our time riding in was rented especially because it had air-conditioning. We had it the whole week. If you caught our first video, you saw it being pulled out of a mud hole. On the second or 3rd day of clinic, Dr. Mike checked the driver's vision. It was much less than perfect. When we went to ride the bus back to Bishop House, the driver wasn't wearing the glasses Dr. Mike gave him.

After a little discussion, we all decided that we were probably better off if he didn't wear them. We were alive so far and we didn't want him adjusting to his new glasses with us in tow.

There are no traffic rules in India as far as I could tell. The closest thing to a rule was the statement, "Please use horn" painted on the back bumper of every truck. Yes, using the horn is a courtesy. It means, "I'm comin' through!" We were literally a few inches from other vehicles more times than I like to recall.

To be a driver in India and get anywhere, you have to be bold (a little crazy too, maybe). My trusty Oxford desk dictionary defines bold as "confidently, assertive; adventurous; brave".

The Bible talks a lot about boldness. The Old Testament is full of bold chicks like Rahab, Ruth, and Esther. The New Testament is full of boldness too. Paul mentions in I Thessalonians that even though they had been persecuted and were criticized for it they were "bold in our God to speak to you the gospel of God". In Hebrews, the author reminds us that "we may boldly say: The LORD is my helper; I will not fear. What can man do to me?'"

I have to admit that boldness does not come naturally to me. If I was a driver in India, I probably wouldn't get anywhere. But I want to be bold for Christ. I want to speak for those who have no voice. I want to stand up in the face of persecution. I want to share His gospel. Today, I am praying for God to work within my heart and give me the boldness I do not have on my own.

Will you be bold with me today? No driving required. Jesus has the wheel.

The Plan

This trip to India is something special between me and my God. If you haven't known me all my life, you may not know its significance. I need to tell you a story.


I was 4 or 5 years old. I remember sitting cross-legged on the floor listening to my Mission Friends' teacher tell me about people who went to share Jesus in far off places. I also remember thinking, "that's what I wanna do."

I really never wanted to be anything else. That was the plan. Every detail was covered. It was perfect. The trouble was, I wasn't perfect. The plan derailed. For a long time, I felt like I failed. Poor God, He would have to pick up the pieces and manage with the mess I made. I began to lead an apologetic life. Everything I did for Him was to say, "I'm sorry. This isn't what I really wanted to give you. I should have done better." Sadly, I carried this for a long time.

But, some time ago I realized that it had been MY plan, not HIS. I had wanted to give Him what I thought was best, and that wasn't necessarily what He wanted. Even though I had made mistakes, I wasn't the one in control. He was. My life was not a mess and I was doing what I told God I would do. I was just doing it in a totally different place and with a totally different title over my name than I had planned. Jesus paid for my sin. I didn't have to keep carrying false guilt around. God wasn't condemning me. I was condemning myself.

Plans aren't all bad. They just become bad when we get caught up in carrying them out and not focusing on Who they were intended to please. The most important thing was that when I was seven, I began to love Him. I gave Him my life back then. It did not matter what my life became as long as it was His.

I started to see my life as the beautiful blessing that it is. It is not second rate. My marriage, my family, and my vocation are all wonderful gifts. All of which, I would have never had with "the plan". The life I never thought I would lead is not only okay with Him, it is what He wants for me.

If you are wondering how this ties to India, hang on. I'm getting there.

You see, I once thought my life would be a foreign mission trip. I have watched others go and I longed to go with them. It just was not time for me. Now it was my turn. He was allowing me to go. I would get to share the love He has so graciously given me with those precious children. He was using my training as a nurse to help them.

On our third day there, I awoke at 4 in the morning. I couldn't sleep for praising Him. After I had worshipped Him a while, I pictured myself crawling up in His lap, wrapping my arms around Him, burying my tear-stained face in His neck and whispering in His ear, "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He was holding me and loving me back. That day, each time I held a child, I felt His arms around us both.

Now that I am home, I am excited to share what God is doing through Emmanuel Ministries and hope to encourage others to spend some of their time, money and resources to help them. I want to go back soon. I hope that God allows me that. But I have also learned that if I never leave my community again, my offering of time and service here is a good one. It isn't second best.

Man in the Middle

Growing up, I didn't listen to pop music. I remember mostly classical, hymns, and songs from the 40's, 50's and 60's. I didn't discuss my musical tastes at school. I had a hard enough time making friends without mentioning Rosemary Clooney. I would pretend I had heard the latest New Kids on the Block tune. I knew who they were. They were those guys on every t-shirt in school.

Knowing this, it may not surprise you that I am not a big Michael Jackson fan. (Yes, I hear your collective sigh.) It isn't that I don't like his music, I just haven't heard it.

On the first day of our clinic in India, Dr. Bobby Capps announced that the song of the day was "Man in the Middle". I didn't know that he meant "Man in the Mirror". (I didn't find out until last year the Hall and Oates were two people and not a band named "Haulin' Oats". I grew up on a farm. Hauling oats made more sense.)I don't know if he was kidding or not but, after saying "Man in the Middle" four times, Bobby corrected himself and said it was Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror". He then half-spoke, half-sang the chorus, bouncing his knees and emphasizing the important parts with hand motions:

I'm Starting With The Man In
The Mirror
I'm Asking Him To Change
His Ways
And No Message Could Have
Been Any Clearer
If You Wanna Make The World
A Better Place

(If You Wanna Make The
World A Better Place)
Take A Look At Yourself And
Then Make A Change.

We were there in India to make a change. To change circumstances for the better. To be extensions of God's healing arms. It starts inside each of us, others before ourselves. Michael Jackson. Who knew?!

The man in the mirror IS the man in the middle. Be aware of the problem. Change your attitude. Take action. We get to be in the MIDDLE of God's great work. He allows us to take His love and spread it around as thick as we can lay it. He gave us gifts to use on those who need them so that He may be glorified.

Take a look at the man (or woman) in the mirror, change your ways, and go get in the middle of things!


P.S. This does not mean you have to travel to India to make a difference. But you could...

How Sweet the Name

This evening Eric and I went out together to celebrate our anniversary. We headed to Florence because that is where he took me on our first date. We have claimed it as "Our Town". When we were deciding what to do this evening, I asked him if it would be okay if we visit Ivy Green, Helen Keller's birthplace, in Tuscumbia, Alabama. I had never been and have always wanted to go. He said that it was beautiful, so that is where we went first.


Helen Keller was born June 27, 1880, a normal, healthy child. At 19 months of age she had a high fever that left her blind and deaf. One of the hostesses at Ivy Green wrote a devotional about Helen. I read it there in the room they call "The Museum". I stood there reading it and found myself crying. Lisabeth Foster, the author was there and allowed me to have a copy of it. I would like to share a portion of it with you.

"One story that impresses me every time I tell it is about the time she went off to the school for the blind with Miss Sullivan, her teacher, at the age of nine. She had never learned about God because her parents couldn't communicate with her. While she was attending school, a minister came to Perkins Institute and explained in sign language, in her palm, about God. She signed back to him, 'I always knew that He was there, I just didn't know His name.'

A little, blind, deaf child knew that God exists even in her 'prison of darkness'."

God has seen fit to allow me sight and hearing. I am thankful for both of those senses. I don't want to take them for granted. I am able to see and hear the evidence that God exists. I want to use my senses to tune into Him and not push Him away as other things call out for my attention.

The devotion lists the hymn for this day is "How Sweet the Name of Jesus Sounds". The words to this hymn are below. How fortunate we are to know His name and to hear its sweet sound in our ears! Share it with someone else today.

How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds
In a believer's ear!
It soothes his sorrow, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.

It makes the wounded spirit whole,
And calms the troubled breast;
'Tis manna to the hungry soul,
And to the weary rest.

Dear Name! the Rock on which we build;
Our shield and hiding-place;
Our never-failing treasury, filled
With boundless stores of grace.

Jesus, our Savior, Shepherd, Friend,
Our Prophet, Priest, and King;
Our Lord, our Life, our Way, our End,
Accept the praise we bring.

Weak is the effort of our heart,
And cold our warmest thought;
But when we see Thee as Thou art,
We'll praise Thee as we ought.

Till then we would Thy love proclaim
With every fleeting breath;
And triumph in that blessed Name
Which quells the pow'r of death.

Teardrops On My Lo Mein

I ran to Jin Jin this afternoon on my way to pick up the children. I was getting my "I am really hungry, its Monday,and after only 7 hrs of sleep in 52 hours, you are crazy if you think I am going to cook supper" order of Chinese food. I ran in purchased my food and got back in to my car with all the things I need to do today running through my head. I put the keys in the ignition, and looked up. A sign caught my eye. It said FOR RENT. You might not say that this is unusual. But it was Neese and Adams, the law firm of my friends Jake and Anita Beth. A lump rose in my throat and tears began to fall down my face.


The reality of their impending move hit me all at once. Soon, I wouldn't see Anita Beth at 1st Pres twice a week. I wouldn't hear any more crazy stories from Amelia about what she and Gracie talked about at school that day.I wouldn't get to be impressed by how intelligent AB is at the Resource Center Meetings. How will we manage without her legal expertice? I was just really getting to know her and I like her. Good friends aren't a dime a dozen and I don't want one to move away. Why do things have to change?

I am trusting their family to the Lord. I know God has a plan. I know that all things work together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. I hope that Anita Beth, Jake and the girls love Jackson. They are so fun. They will probably make friends easily. They will be near family. It will be a great opportunity for Jake's work. E-mail and cell phones make distance so much easier now-a-days. But even though I know all of these things, I am still sad.

But, I also know that God loves me. He created relationships. He knows they can be hard sometimes. He is glad that I love them enough to miss them when they leave. I don't feel like I offended Him today or that He thinks I doubt His choices. I think that He understands.

Sometimes it is okay to sit in a parking lot, staring at an empty building, while tears fall on your lo mein.

In Christ

Life is intricately and intimately linked with Jesus.

In fact, Jesus is life----He said so Himself.
So when we look for life worth living,
We must look for it not in happy or heartbreaking circumstances,
health or even relationships.
Life is in Christ.

Joni Eareckson Tada

If there is anything amazing about me,
It is the amazing love of Christ.
I am nothing on my own.
I am only mistakes and blunders when I act by myself.
I have been able to endure my life,
only with Him and in Him.
All glory, honor, and praise goes to His name.


I am a sinner.
I deserve to die for my sin.
I can't do anything by myself to save myself from that death.
God is a loving God.
He doesn't want to see me punished.
But God is a just God.
He must punish sin.
God sent His Son to earth to live a perfect life, die on a cross, rise from
the dead to pay the price for my sin.
By trusting in God and by believing in Jesus Christ alone for
eternal life I was saved from this death.
By faith, I transferred my trust from myself to Jesus Christ.
I will go to heaven when I die and live eternally with Him.

Even though I accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior,
it doesn't mean that I don't sin. Sadly, I still do. But because
of my relationship with Him, I can ask forgiveness for that
sin and He forgives and forgets and I try to do better.
But because I am His, I can never be separated from Him.

It is only because the Christ I talk about lives in me through
the Holy Spirit am I able to live with the strength you have talked about.
It isn't my strength. It is His.
You too can have this certainty, peace, and strength.
He offers it to all.
You just have to accept His free gift.

If you have already accepted this gift,I am so happy to have
you as a brother or sister in Christ. I hope you share with
someone else today what He means to you.
But if you haven't and you would like to have this gift, please accept it now.
All you have to do is ask for it through prayer to Him.

If you need me or would like to ask questions about this note,
please message me. If you have a new relationship with Him,
He wants you to grow through prayer, reading the Bible,
worshiping Him, fellowship with other believers, and to tell
others what you have learned.


With love and great need of my Savior,

Anna

You Are My Sunshine

I have always liked to sing, even though I am not the best at it.
Music has always been a comfort and joy to me. My nerves have
kept me from being any good at performing. I can't hold a microphone
because my hands shake so. And I have to stand behind something so
that no one can see my knees knocking.

When Ty was born, I found my audience. I never felt shy about
belting out a tune in front of him. He loved my singing. At least, I
think he did. The song I sang the most was "You Are My Sunshine".
He would smile the biggest baby smile when I would begin this tune.
He would snuggle his sweet smelling head against my shoulder,
his eyelids drooping as I whispered the words in his ear.

When Tess arrived, I felt a little guilty singing it. Neither of them was
my only sunshine. They both were. So in my head the sunshine became
plural and I kept singing. The same when Amelia came. It was my baby song.

Then my Jack.

I couldn't sing it anymore. The words caught in my throat. Even now
tears stream down my face.I was living the verse in the song. I would be
rocking Amelia and begin to sing and catch myself. I haven't spoken the words since his birth.

We haven't bought the headstone for his grave. I have felt guilty about
it because it has been over a year. I just put it out of my mind and pretended I didn't have to do this.

I don't know if you have ever been shopping for one,
but it isn't the most fun way to spend an afternoon. First, you are buying
for someone you love that you lost. In my case an unexpected loss.
I hadn't scoped out tombstones to know which one I would get if my
child died. Secondly, have you noticed all of the places to buy one are
on the side of a busy road? You have to look at them with the whole
world driving by. Third, I don't like any of the ones they have for children.
Lastly, you have toknow what to write on it. I have to convey my thoughts,
feelings and love for my child in a few words. Any one who knows me, is
aware I am not a woman of a few words. It will be there for a while.
I want whoever is looking at it to know how much he meant to so many people.

I am done putting off this task and have been looking for the marker
and have been writing down things I feel about him so that I can figure
out what we wanton it. I think that we have figured it out.
At the risk of sounding cheesy, but by being true,

"Our littlest sunshine
dreaming of holding you once more.
Until that day".

Thanks, Matt, for the counseling. Thanks for all of my friends and family
for walking through this with me. Thank you, Cole for the beautiful
portrait so that I don't have to rely on my memory. Thank you, Lord,
for love, Jack, and loss. There are so many things we wouldn't learn
without loss. Thank you for Your Son and the certainty that I will
see my son again some day and hold him and sing to him.

"You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are gray
You'll never know dear
How much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away.

The other night dear
When I was sleeping
I dreamt I held you in my arms
When I awoke dear
I was mistaken
And I hung my head and cried.

You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are gray
You'll never know dear
How much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away."

Ty's Tips

All of my children love to write, so I am constantly buying notebooks for them to fill.

If I don't purchase them, they feel free to fill up mine. Ty writes stories complete with
illustrations. He is quite the author and his drawings are great too. He has several
comics going and has his own superhero, "TyGuy". I love to read his work. It is always
entertaining. So when I was picking up around the house the other day and found
some crumpled pieces of notebook paper on a table in the living room I read them instead
of tossing them out.

The first page said:

" TIP #2: Never mess with your Bully's dog or both of them will bully you! and
that is dangerous!"

(There is an illustration underneath of a suprised fellow beside a growling
dog and a tough looking fellow with a studded collar on his neck and a
skull on his t-shirt.)


The second page said:

"Tip #3: If anything funny happens in the bathroom save it for class then the whole
class will laugh."


I am not sure of what tip #1 said. I think that his target audience is 3rd graders.
I could use tip #2 in my everyday life. You would have to know Ty to understand
#3 because he is always trying to get a laugh.

I asked Ty about these and he said he was saving them for a book he was writing.
He blamed his sisters for tearing them out of a notebook. Even though I don't consider
this the best thing he has written, it is nice to know that he is already concerned about
helping others by sharing his learning experiences.

My Calling

I worked in the ER recently. It is not my usual gig.

I feel a little lost down there. But a funny thing happened
and I wanted to share.

I took care of an elderly lady for a few hours that was so sweet.
She was also so confused. At one point she wanted me to call her brother
so he could take her home. She asked me to look it up in the phonebook
because she couldn't remember the number. After I could not find the
listing, I called her caregiver to get it and found out that she didn't have
a brother (at least not one that had been on this earth in a long time).
Thankfully she was fine and ended up going home. But just before she
was wheeled out of the room on the stretcher with the EMTs she held
out her hand to me and said,

"I think you missed your calling. You should have been a nurse."


Sometimes God uses a lady with dementia to show you that you
are in the right place at the right time doing just what He wants you to do.


"But as God has distributed to each one, as the Lord has called each one,
so let him walk."
I Corinthians 7:17

Being Charitable With Tess

I have to face it. My children are a bit greedy. They always ask, "What did you get me?", when I walk in the door. I could get them three presents and they would ask, "Is there any more?" I guess this is normal in our day and age but it really upsets me. I try to combat this by letting them know that they are really blessed and should be more thankful for what they have instead of asking for more all of the time.


Tess's response to this is to finish every request with, "I'll give part of it to charity." If she wants a new toy and I complain about them being all over the place, she says, "I'll give my old ones to charity." One afternoon we were riding in the car and she was mentioning one of her philanthropic opportunites to me. After she explained how most of it "..will go to charity", she asks,

"Momma, who is Charity, and where does she live?"

She was very suprised to learn that her old friend Charity was not a person after all.

Amelia and Her Dog

One morning I was leaving the house with Amelia, my three year-old, to take her to school. We stopped just outside so I could lock the front door. Our dog, Chief, sat on the sidewalk. Amelia started talking to him while I dealt with the door.

She asked him, "Are you a dog?"

He just sat and stared at her.

She asked again, a little bit louder, "Are you a dog?"

He cocked his head to the side and kept looking at her.

She yelled "CHIEF, ARE YOU A DOG?!?"

Alas, he just looked at her.

She turned to me and said, "Momma, Chief can't hear."