Freedom

In the United States we celebrate the anniversary of our freedom from British rule on July 4th. This celebration typically includes things like cookouts, barbecues, potato salad, pie and fireworks.

In the upper Midwest, participating in the requisite fireworks usually requires a bath in deet or running the risk of being carried away by hummingbird sized mosquitos. Having two kiddos with neurological issues, we try to avoid the deet bath. Instead, we have been taking the kids to our local dirt race track for their “Fireworks Spectacular” event. Where, either the noise, diesel fumes, or dirt, deters the pesky bugs and the kids also get to watch the races. fireworks5

We load the van with blankets, clear protective glasses, sweatshirts, sunscreen, ear protection for five, and more money than I want to part with. Once everyone has used the bathroom one last time we make it out the driveway with only three trips back in for forgotten items. As usual, we arrive about an hour before the races start which is not early enough to avoid sitting just downwind of turn four, but just early enough to stuff some food into the kids before the race starts and it’s filled with dirt. This year, the toddler complies with the ear protection requirement, which means all five of us are able to watch the races and make it to the fireworks portion for the first time since Mini Hubby was born.

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Well past Mini Hubby’s bedtime, he’s curled up on my lap, waiting for the promised fireworks. My chin resting on the top of his little blonde head I can smell the unique “Speedway Smell” of diesel fumes, exhaust, dirt and burnt rubber with the underlying earthy smell of toddler, i.e. sweat, sunscreen, more dirt, popcorn, pickles and something sticky which I’m bound to be covered in as well. Preteen has let his “I’m too old to be excited” mask slip and is trying in vain to find popcorn at the bottom of the bag that isn’t too gritty to eat. Baby Girl has moved past tired into overdrive, squirming on the unrelenting (even with blankets for padding) aluminum bench, and grinning from ear to ear and has only asked “How much longer” approximately eight times in the last fifteen minutes.

As the first firework is lit, shoots out of it’s tube and covers the sky in bright, loud, red, white and blue, three expectant faces follow it’s trajectory and smile. Eyes bright, mirrors of the cascading light. I smile. Watching joy spread across their faces and fill my heart. In between the repercussions and the patriotic music being piped tin through speakers, I hear it.

Soft and sweet.

Do you feel it? No fear.


Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.


Lamentations 3:57
You came near when I called you, and you said, “Do not fear.”


Just joy.

There had been no fear all night. No stray fears about crashes and random parts flying into the crowd to sneak in and steal the joy of watching my family pick their “winning cars” for the next race.

No stray fears about someone stealing one of the kids to sneak in and steal the joy of watching Mini Hubby play in the dirt by the fence five feet away between races.

And now, no stray fears about tipped over fireworks or big explosions to sneak in and steal the joy of watching precious upturned, dirt filled, excited faces.

I’ve lived a life afraid. Afraid of bridges, wall mounted speakers in movie theaters, car accidents, kidnappings, wrong decisions, mistakes, and fireworks. Over the last few years I’m slowly learning to live a life of hope, in Jesus. To be brave and courageous. To walk this journey with perseverance and endurance. With Him. Until this blindingly beautiful gift of a moment I don’t think I’d really realized just how much work He’s done in my heart. I can get caught up in the mess of who I am, the frustration of fighting the desires of my flesh, and just how far from complete I am and forget that I am a work in progress. And that He’s been working all along. feartofreedom

I look up into crackling flashes across the sky, slightly blurred from grateful tears and celebrate true freedom. Freedom from fear. Freedom in Christ.


2 Corinthians 3:16-18

16 But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. 17 Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 18 And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate[a] the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.


 

WE Are The Church

Below is an open letter to our church family along with pictures of the gift that accompanied it.

July 6, 2016

 

Dear Faith Community Church,

Six years ago I brought my family to Faith Community Church for the first time for a Christmas Eve service. At the time, this was going to be my third, and final, attempt to see if God was what was missing from my life. The Holy Spirit revealed The Gospel to me that day through a creative portrayal of life before the coming of our Savior and the sharing of The Gospel throughout the message.

By nature and experience I am a cautious person and had zero knowledge of the Bible. So, for the next several years Jesus met me here, as I was, where I was, and FCC became my classroom. I learned the importance of obedience and through small (yet significant for me) acts of obedience I made enough connections to become comfortable here. Eventually taking a Bible 101 class that made me more comfortable digging into His Word on my own, my classroom extended into my everyday life. An invitation by a beloved sister in Christ to coffee led to my first Bible Study. In September 2014, we made a large step of obedience in dedicating our children, Jordan, Joelle & Jace to the Lord and acknowledging that they truly belong to Him. An entire sanctuary of you committed to help raise them in Christ, as part of this church family. I wonder now, if you realized what you might be called to do, and that you would follow through so beautifully?

When we received Joelle’s first diagnosis, you wept with us, you prayed with and for us, you paid for and encouraged me to attend a women’s retreat during which I was able to surrender to God’s will and start our family’s healing process through His peace and comfort.

When we received a second diagnosis, this time for both Joelle and Jordan, you continued to lift us up in prayer, lead us to His word, and remind us of His great love and plans for these children.

Then, when financial stress in the form of years of expensive medical testing and astronomical prescription costs overwhelmed us, you opened the doors to FCC and your hearts. You gave incredibly generously of your time, giftings, and resources for two fundraisers that have helped us to more fully rest in God’s grace and provision for our family. You showed us, and many others, the beauty of Christ’s bride; that through a building of broken sinners, God’s glory can shine.

FCC was the building I brought my family to years ago. But, you the church, through your love and obedience to Christ, have been our teachers, brothers and sisters in Christ, and become our church family.

Words can’t express our gratitude for the blessings given to us through you and your willingness to walk this journey beside us, helping us to walk with Jesus.

This glass was originally installed in a church sanctuary in Minnesota in 1922. The original panels were salvaged, re-cut, and reset by Tim, for you. We do not have the means to invest in the

ministry here in a substantial financial way right now. But, we pray that this gift to FCC, and the history behind it, would remind you and all of those that come in the doors in the future, not just of the aesthetic beauty of the glass, but the beauty of Christ’s bride, the people of the church. The hundreds that once sat beneath this glass in the past, those here at FCC now, and those that will come in the future.

 

Blessings,

Bobbi, Tim, Jordan, Joelle, & Jace

The response of our church family over the last year, and our gratitude for God’s grace and provision, through them, was as beautiful as it was humbling and more than a little overwhelming.

God has been so good to me in gifting me with words on paper to express my heart that I fear would overflow at times with gratitude if I didn’t have a way to get it out. Hubby had no such outlet or way to express this. The stained glass panels had been sitting in storage in a pole shed for several years. At the time, Hubby appreciated their history and beauty and knew I would love it too. He planned to have something made for me for my birthday or Christmas but over the years was unable to find someone that could work with the old, fragile, glass and lead.

His timing and grace never cease to move me. Hubby, with no prior experience and more than a few cuts and broken shards of glass, was able to make these panels. Blessed with a way to express his gratitude, both to the church family, and God, this was as much a gift to the church as it was to Hubby.

 

Rest

This last month I’ve been tired. That kind of body, mind, weary that drags at your heart and your soul until your eyelids want to follow. Sometimes at about nine in the morning. It seems no amount of sleep helps. Every morning I wake up and it’s still there. Dragging eyelids down creating fuzzy edges and slowing what seems like my every move. Unfortunately, the world keeps moving at a break neck pace and I’m left with the feeling that I’m never fast enough. Never getting enough done. Never ENOUGH.

I pray for more strength. For more endurance to run this race. For more patience. For more of me to go around. Enough for a family of five. For enough of me.

A dear soul, a sister in Christ, a friend, pointed out to me that I have indeed, been running a race. For two years. With every new symptom, test, appointment, and endless mountain to climb I’ve been running to find an explanation, a diagnosis, a way to make it through the latest roadblock and hold onto Jesus.

I know that our brand of suffering is very rare, but suffering in itself is universal. I know that I’m not the only one surrounded by it in this fallen world. I have only to check my text messages, social media or catch a tidbit of the news for my heart to be further weighted down by the heaviness of broken hearts and broken lives of everyone around me. Aren’t you TIRED?

Does it feel like it’s just too much and we’re just not ENOUGH?

Yesterday I hit the wall. Not literally, but figuratively. Test results came back for our oldest son and he has not responded to treatment. In my beloved kitchen, staring at his results I got a return phone call from the ophthalmologist to make an appointment to check his vision again for signs of damage from the CTX because he’s having vision problems. My toddler is screaming because I cut his strawberries and he wanted them “big”, and our daughter is asking me for the fourth time that morning what day it is so she can figure out how many days to her play date and we need to be out the door for therapy in ten minutes. The dishwasher is running for the second time today and the twelve year old is panicking over a double booked Saturday and can’t decide what he wants to do more. In a stellar parenting moment, I tell the nine year old with the short term memory impairment, “I just told you five minutes ago it’s Friday!”, tell the toddler, “Fine! Don’t eat them!”, and the anxiety filled twelve year old,”I’ll decide for you and you won’t go to either!”. Holding my head trying to hold in the tears I schedule the appointment with the sympathetic secretary and hang up in time to realize the time I picked means I’d have to miss my Bible study that week. We’re five minutes late leaving, everyone is upset and I look down to see a toddler still in pajamas in need of a diaper change I meant to do when I switched the laundry….a half hour ago.

I’m not enough.

I step outside trying to fill my lungs with air, my soul with peace. As chaos ensues inside, I pray. For MORE of me. Resigned to being late, I stare at a yard filled with scattered toys and discarded shirts from a water fight the night before and I’m blessed with a reminder.

I’m NOT enough. I’ll NEVER be enough. I shouldn’t be praying for more of ME, but more of Him. I will never find rest in myself.

Father, please help me to rest in YOU. I am so very tired and on my own I’ll never be able to run this race with endurance. Help me to make more of YOU, and LESS of me! images (1)

I’ve had it backwards lately. I’ve forgotten that He is enough for me, for my family of five, for every chaotic moment. He alone can redeem every parenting fail, every scheduling mistake, every exhausting day. And with that reminder, I can dry my face, walk back in amidst the chaos, apologize to my children and accept the amazing grace poured out on me every day. I can herd unruly cats into a van in five minutes with a bag of “big” strawberries and answer questions again. I can listen to a perfectly timed song, “Just Breathe”, and remember that I can truly rest, just be, at His feet. Thank you Jesus!


images (3)Matthew 11:28

28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.


What I Told My Kids Today

As headlines, graphic images and special reports flooded the airwaves today my kids couldn’t help but catch wind of tragedy. Of pain. Of loss. Of hate and anger.images (4).jpg

“Mom, why are so many bad things happening?”

Ugh! How to explain a fallen world to innocent, soft confused hearts?

“I don’t know baby. God tells us we live in a fallen world where bad things sometimes happen.”

“What do we do?” Anxious words from a tiny heart that wants to help. To DO something. Don’t we all?

“We pray. We can pray for protection and pray for all the people who are sad and angry and hurting.”

“What do we do if something bad happens here?” Oh, to wrap them in bubble wrap and bolt our doors. But no.

“We look for God. ”

“But we can’t see him. What if we’re still scared?”

“He’s promised to always be with us. We look for Him in the people we see. Look for the helpers He’s sent. Whenever there’s something bad, look for the people helping. Sometimes they’re a police officer or fireman, sometimes they’re a man in a suit, a man covered in tattoos, or a teenager with baggy pants. Sometimes they’re black, white, brown or yellow. They help people out of fires, pull people out of car accidents, help fix their injuries, carry babies to safety, hold people that are crying, pray with people who are scared. But they’re there.”

“Does God send helpers everywhere?!”

“Oh yes!! He sent us too! Remember? We’re strong and brave because God is with us and loves us! And we love everyone as much as we love ourselves so we will help if we need to!”mms_20160709_001718

“I’m a helper?! God’s helper?!”

“Yes! We are! And there are lots of us. Just remember to look for them, and be one!”images (1).jpg

“Because we can do all things with Christ who gives us strength….right?”

“Right baby.”


2 Corinthians 13:11

11 Finally, brothers and sisters, rejoice! Strive for full restoration, encourage one another, be of one mind, live in peace. And the God of love and peacewill be with you.


Psalm 23:4

Even though I walk
    through the darkest valley,[a]
I will fear no evil,
    for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
    they comfort me.


Deuteronomy 31:6

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”