Kolleen Lucariello#TheABCGirl
Author. Writer. Speaker.
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Crushed, Yet Still Pretty

5/19/2020

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Paul Harvey made it sound easy when he came up with the phrase encouraging us to, “bloom where we are planted.” As if flowers always bloom where they are planted! (You can’t see my eyes roll, but they did). Since the day Tiny Tim enticed us to Tip Toe Through them, I’ve dreamt of a garden full of tulips blooming every spring at our house. Well, tulips and daffodils. This dream would be a reality if any of the bulbs I’ve planted throughout the last thirty years would follow Paul’s advice and simply bloom where I planted them.When one attempt failed, I tried again, and then again, a few years after that.  

I'd plant the bulbs, but when spring arrived, I’d find evidence of a mole feast. Finally, after several failed attempts, Pat told me I wasn’t allowed to waste any more money on bulbs that became food to the varmints beneath the earth. 

However, last summer when my hubby Pat and I added a small front porch and sidewalk, I decided it was the perfect time to attempt a green thumb once more.  

“Why are you planting bulbs?” Pat asked.  
“Because I want spring flowers!” I replied.  
“They never grow!” Pat insisted.  
“I have to try!” I retorted.  

As I planted, I  prayed silently over every single bulb as I placed it beneath the dirt. “Please, God. Guard my  bulbs through the winter. Don’t let any creature think they are food.” 

Then I waited.  

When spring finally began to take its turn, I was excited  to see daffodils  rise from the earth. I was overjoyed when I saw my tulips do the same and take their stand. Only two bulbs had gone missing!  Finally, after years of waiting…and trying…. and hoping…my desire to see spring flowers, and especially tulips bloom had been answered. Honestly, I smile every time my eyes fall on them. 

Spring in Upstate New York can bring temperatures from all seasons, so every forecast of snow or frost brought a bit of alarm. But this year the threat never seemed certain.  Imagine my surprise when I woke one morning to discover my tulips, as well as my daffodils, were crushed beneath the weight of—not a mere trace of snow that had been forecast—but inches of snow.  My poor tulips (and my poor heart!) were so sad and droopy that I wondered if they’d survive the crushing.  

But you know what happened? That same day the sun began to shine, and the snow melted away (this is a miracle, as snow rarely melts that fast in Central New York). Later that day, I had a thought as I walked around the yard  surveying the damage done to my flowers. I was reminded of how hard it can be to spend years praying for the Lord to answer a heart’s cry only to have the answer come and then seem to be stolen from us. 

Life can throw us off-kilter when challenges are thrown our way, and it seems as though the answer we’ve been waiting for has suddenly been snatched away. Yet, perhaps that’s not what happened at all. Perhaps, God has indeed answered the prayer, the appearance is just different than we imagined. When we ask Him to meet a desire or longing, are we only willing to accept His answer if it arrives on our terms?  

Do you know what I found the next day when I opened the living room curtains? My tulips were standing tall again. I never expected any of them to survive the crushing weight of that snow and cold – but they did. There was only one daffodil that was broken at the stem. In the same way, there have been countless moments in my own life when I’ve felt crushed by the weight of a heavy burden. In that moment, I believed I would never survive through the situation, only to discover myself standing  on the other side.. Oh, sure, some of my most pain-filled moments changed the way I stand. It’s hard to stand the same after you’ve been broken. I’m sure we each have a story to share about brokenness in our life.  

What I noticed in the daffodil with the broken stem, however, was this: even though it was now broken at the stem, there was still beauty in the flower as it continued to bloom. I simply picked the flower, placed it in a vase filled with nourishing water and enjoyed its beauty from a new point of view. Isn’t it marvelous that even when we feel broken, our faith in Christ enables us to see things from a different perspective? He gives us a new point-of-view, even from the broken, hard places.  

While the storm raged, my flowers endured a rough few days. I recognized they remained standing because their roots were deep in a good foundation. This reminds me of the importance for me, or us, to have deep roots in the foundation of God’s Word. Especially when we endure those days, or perhaps weeks, when one storm seems to produce another. It's during the moments I feel pressed and overwhelmed that I am thankful I am planted in the Word because I know it’s here that I will be able to withstand the crushing storms in life. 

In his book Crushing, T.D. Jakes says that God plants us in rich soil to produce a greater fruit. He says, “God is adamantly invested in developing us into something we would never be without His direct intervention. When we find ourselves broken, battered, beaten and bruised by our circumstances, it’s possible that the Master who we’re praying will remove and solve the problem is the very One who sanctioned it and is using it to accomplish some greater effect.” What we might believe will kill us, actually will reveal something beautiful from within us. If we allow it.  

Our identity changes one letter at a time when we allow the seed of God’s Word to take deep root within and realize the relevance of Paul’s words,  

“We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves. We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed.  Through suffering, our bodies continue to share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies” (2 Corinthians 2:7-10, NLT). ​

Stand tall. Bloom even if you find yourself a bit broken today and #beYOU.  

 

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Hoarding a Hurt

5/1/2020

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When COVID-19 began to change the dynamics of life in March, Pat had just begun working what is known as a Refuel Outage at the Nuclear Power Plant where he’s been employed for the last 38 years. These outages comprise of long twelve-hour days that last for weeks. When our kids were young the weight of missing dad was tough for them so we’d do what we could to keep ourselves preoccupied as we waited for the outage to end.  
 
Fast forward to present time when I must now fend for myself to keep busy when he’s working all of these long hours. In my fending, I usually find a project to keep myself busy or I will go visit family. This year, however, the go-visit-family was no longer an option with the stay-at-home restrictions in place, so I decided to rip apart a closet in our mudroom.  I noticed the three-wire-shelves were taking on a new shape as they began to bend towards the floor underneath the weight of all they bore and a few of the mounting brackets were now free from the wall.  
 
After a good bit of Pinterest surfing, I found several cute ideas and decided to turn this catch-all-closet into a pantry. After I gutted the closet Pat was able to rebuild, and what took weeks to complete was now ready to be reoccupied. However, I understood that not everything that came out could go back in. My daughter, a licensed therapist, came to my aid. She helped me determine what r e a l l y needed to return to the new space and what needed to find a new home.  
 
As we made our way through the closet/pantry, or panset, it became obvious that I am a hoarder-of-all-things-past. I hold on to anything with a memory attached. Items like my grandmother’s old blender and my firstborn’s kindergarten lunchbox, both still in my possession but of little use to me now. They simply served the purpose of recalling memories.  
 
As I went about the process of letting go of things, my mind embarked on another type of clearing out–that of releasing old wounds and hurts. In the same way that I can be a hoarder of all-things-past I can also be a hoarder of all-things-hurt. Sometimes it just feels wrong to let it go—so I don’t. Instead, I wrap it up tight within and refuse to allow anyone to pry it away.  Am I the only one? I hardly think so! I wonder why we insist on holding tightly to something that causes pain. What other purpose does hoarding a hurt serve? When we rehash it – we feel the hurt again. When we overthink it – we experience the hurt all over. What is the point of purposely holding onto years of hurt?   
 
When we choose to hoard hurt we are forgetting there is One who offers to help us overcome the pain of a past hurt; in fact, He asks us to let Him carry it.  The Psalmist reminds us to cast our burdens on the Lord so He can sustain us” (Psalm 55:22). The hurt sustains the pain but the Father wants to sustain you in peace and freedom.  
 
Far too many relationships disintegrate because a hurt hoarder refused to offer forgiveness. Instead, a grudge is set upon the memory shelf to remind us of the hurtful occasion. I understand not all hurts are small ones – there are many who carry big hurts, as well; too big to carry alone. For those the promise of God is healing. Remember the woman who said to herself, “If I may touch His garments, I shall be healed” (Mark 5:28)? She was, and Jesus said it was because of her faith.  
 
Perhaps it is time to put an end to the hoarding of hurt. God calls us to “make allowances for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends” us (Colossians 3:13, NLT). Anyone? Yes, anyone. Colossians continues, “remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.  
 
The shelves in my new panset will never carry the weight as the old ones. I’ve lightened the load. In the same way, the load the old Kolleen carried with old hurts and grudges became less when she decided it was too much to carry on her own. We change our identity one letter at a time when we release hurt to the One who not only carries them for us – but completely carries them away.  
 
#beYOU 
H-Healed. 

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When God Resurrects a Book!

3/29/2020

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In 2010
, I sent a manuscript I had written to a publishing company. I had written the book on identity for two friends and I to work through in an effort to grow in our faith.  


At the time, I wasn’t confident I was traveling in the correct lane for a few reasons: 1) I didn’t believe I was qualified, 2) I didn’t believe anything I said had value and 3) history had taught me that roadblocks and unexpected crashes often followed my attempts to venture out and try something new.  Yet something about this felt right. So, I sent the first three chapters of the book to the publishing company for consideration.  

Then… I waited.  
Life continued. 
And then… I forgot.  

Until the day I received an email from the publishing company. They had received my manuscript, and asked that I provide them with a physical address should they decide to publish my book. Was I ecstatic? No. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to do—I hadn’t told anyone about the submission. I had become embarrassed by my many false starts and unfulfilled plans. I felt it was best to keep this to myself and then--when the rejection arrived--I would be the only one to know. Now what? 

They were asking for my address. What should I do? I remember the night I decided to give Pat a briefing of the situation. We had just returned home from an evening service at church. When I stood at the foot of our bed and said, “I might have done something,” his eyes shifted from the screen of the television and locked on me.  
 
"What did you do now?”  

After years of experience with my let’s-try-something-new adventures—that quite possibly could turn into a mess--I’m certain he felt panicked by the thought he was about to enter into another one. After assuring him I didn’t think I’d made a mess, I told him what I’d done. “Wow!” he said, “Is that all? Go ahead and send it to them!”  

With Pat’s blessing I sent them our address.  
Life continued.  
And… I forgot.  

Until one day while I was outside playing with my daycare kids and Fed Ex delivered an envelope requiring my signature. Inside was a contract from Tate Publishing. I was flabbergasted. I also wondered if this was too good to be true.  
 
Research. Lots and lots of research.  
 
Over the next few weeks Pat and I sought to do due diligence in our research of the publisher and if they could be trusted. We had family and friends assist in the research. Some articles said they were the real deal, while others said they were a vanity publishing company. What exactly did that mean? I spoke on the phone with an acquisition editor at the company who assured me there was a market for The ABCs of Who God Says I Am. They would be delighted to be the ones to publish it.  
 
Finally, after weeks of prayer and listening to the counsel of others, Pat decided we would accept their invitation to publish. He took me out to dinner the night we put the contract in the mail to celebrate his wife--the author. 
 
The next year stretched me in ways I had never known. There were deadlines to meet, words to revise, and thoughts to explore. I sat before a computer screen and poured  my heart out. What an incredible feeling to hold the first copy of  MY book, and in January of 2013 I found myself at my very first book signing. It was surreal and I knew God was opening the door to something new in my life.   
 
When my eyes fell upon an advertisement for Christian’s Writer’s Conference in July of 2014, I  registered. Honestly, I wasn’t aware there was such a thing! Unlike most of the authors I met that week, I hadn’t grown up with a desire to write. I did not believe my purpose was connected to writing. Granted, I had no idea what my purpose was, but I never considered it to be writing. Yet, spending the week with some of the most amazingly gifted people was life changing for me.  
 
The week set me on a pathway to discover a gift and a purpose. It was also eye opening and—at times—quite painful. (Oh yes, a bit embarrassing when I walked through the lobby with my skirt stuck in my underwear. A shout-out of praise to the woman who ran to my aid and placed her bag over my backside while whispering in my ear, “You need to pull your skirt out of your underwear.”) 
 
The truth can be hard to embrace, and the conference held plenty brutal moments of truth. Such as: 
 
  • The wince I saw on the face of--not one--but every professional who heard the name of the company mentioned as the publisher of my book. 
  • The list of reasons why there was concern when they explained the wince.  
  • The mistakes and missteps I was now aware the publisher had made throughout the process of publishing, as well as within the book itself.  
 
As I sat in a class at the conference, I had an “ah-ha” moment when I realized I had actually started at the finish line of writing a book and now the Lord was now moving me back to the beginning. He had used the book as a tool to alert me to the gift of writing He’d given me, but now I needed to learn the craft of writing. I know why He did it, too. Rejection. I am confident that if I had received rejection letters from publishers, I would have ended my quest with the conclusion I had missed the mark—again. This set me on a course of learning about the writing world, and improving my craft. I met wonderful people at the conference and was introduced to Kathy Carlton Willis, and her writer’s group, WordGirls. I joined right away and spent three years learning from Kathy, as well as the other WordGirl members.  
 
Then came the devastating news.  
 
In 2017, I received an email detailing the publisher's decision to cease operations. I was also informed that for $50 I could request and receive the files to my manuscript. After seeking wise counsel, I was advised to refuse the option as my contract was proof that I owned the rights to the manuscript. Unfortunately, the founder and CEO of the publishing company and his son were arrested, found guilty, and sentenced to twenty years of jail time for fraud. They must pay back nearly one million in restitution. Thankfully, I received my book (some authors paid them and never received anything). However, I never received the manuscript. This meant my book The ABCs of Who God Says I Am was no longer in print.  
 
Through the course of time I went to a writer’s conference hoping to find a new publisher – I did not. While at the conference my sister, Kara, passed away and any thought about the book was cast far from my mind. Then, the ministry of Activ8Her came along and I was pulled further away from the book. While attending a WordGirls Writer’s Retreat I met Michelle Rayburn who owns Mission and Media. She helps authors take their message and turn it into media. I also was introduced to Brandi Ginty, owner of Inkible, who began coaching Chrissy and I with our teaching videos and curriculum for Activ8Her. Each one a divine connection – I am certain of it.  
 
In late 2019 I finally felt the Lord was ready for me to republish the book, but this time it would be done with care and excellence. I reached out to Michelle who accepted the project, and Brandi who agreed to edit the very first manuscript I had written for the book. They both had their work cut out for them – they are my heroes! We began work in November of 2019 and today the book is here.  
 
It, too, has a new identity! A new title, #beYOU: Change Your Identity One Letter at a Time! What I believed was dead and had no life left to her, Michelle and Brandi have both assured me has value and purpose again. I am so grateful for these two who believed in the book so much they spent hours preparing her for resurrection.  
 
I believe that even if you read The ABCs Of Who God Says I Am you will be blessed by #beYOU: Change Your Identity One Letter at a Time. If you’d be willing to be part of my Influencer Team and read the book and write an honest review, please sign up to receive email updates here. I will let you know when the kindle version of the book is available at no cost to you. Thank you so much!  
 
I am thrilled to know God still has a plan and a purpose for this book. Thanks for sharing in my joy as I journey on in my desire to write for God’s glory and to encourage you to allow Him to change your identity one letter at a time.  
 
#beYOU,  
 
Kolleen  

PS. You may preorder the book on my product page or the Kindle version on Amazon. 


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I Spy With My Little Eye....

10/30/2019

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Returning home after a visit with family in the south and—as is typical for our travel adventures—my hubby Pat, was piloting our car while I executed the important duties of an ever-efficient co-pilot. Admittedly, Pat does prefer to pilot alone; he and I have differing views on my role as his co-pilot. Anyhow, on this particular trip, we were flying, I mean zooming, north up Interstate 81 when I noticed we were approaching a car pulled off on the side of the road.
 
“You should move over in the left lane,” I said, “There is a car off on the right.”
He complied, and moved the car into the left lane. I continued reading my book.
 
Not long after, he asked, “Where was the car you saw on the side of the road?”
“It was back there. You didn’t see it?”
“No.”
“What do you mean, ‘No’? It was just up the road from when I told you.”
“There was never a car.” 
 
Silence overtook me; confusion followed. It didn’t seem possible for the car to have pulled back onto the road given the traffic and timing.
 
“Hmmm…well, that is interesting. I was certain I saw a car.”
“Well, apparently, you saw something that wasn’t there,” he said through his laughter.
 
He was right. Clearly, I had seen something that wasn’t there. My imagination has equipped me well to see things that might not be there.
 
For instance, I’ve seen Pat and I embroiled in a fight he was unaware we were in. My perception of his attitude conveyed a message towards me that he was upset with me. Can you relate? Have you ever developed an attitude towards someone based upon your perception of their attitude? I can be pretty quick to see an attitude that might not necessarily be there. Then I allow observation—rather than confirmation—lead me down the road of irritation. I can talk myself into a great mad if I am not careful.
 
I’ve worked myself into a health crisis thanks to a search of symptoms on WebMD. I have always been a worse-case-scenario-patient rather than a best-case one. When this happens, and I see something that isn’t there, the Lord will use His Word—and accountability—to ease my anxiety from self-diagnosis. Once, I gave Pat a rundown of my funeral instructions – just so he would be prepared. Every symptom has the potential to raise a red-flag-anxiety attack if I am not careful.
 
I’ve seen myself as a victim when I’ve pursued the approval of people rather than the approval of God alone. It’s easy to feel crushed and defeated when the opinion of others becomes the idol of my worship. Whether real, or imagined, an unkind comment, thoughtless act, or seeming disregard, are just a few of the tools the enemy uses to inflict wounds to my heart. If I am not protective of my thoughts, I can quickly latch on to the negative voice that drags me to a place of self-pity. When this happens and I feast on the negatives of what might have been meant by the comment, look, or action, I quickly accept the role of a victim. 

I don’t want to be anyone’s victim. I don’t need to be a victim. Through Christ, I am victorious regardless of what has been done to me—real or imagined. God is always ready to show me where I have misunderstood, and He is always ready to help me heal when the message was loud and clear. We can thank God for the victory to overcome (1 Corinthians 5:57).
 
I can easily construct conclusions when I jump into situations without any information of facts. What my eyes see, and the truth behind what they saw have the potential to be extremely different. When I understand the whole story I am spared from the humiliation of jumping to wrong conclusions. I may assume I understand the motives of others, which might trigger suspicion, and then discover my assumptions were wrong all along.
 
Isn’t that what happened with Joseph when Potiphar’s wife tried to seduce him? He rejected her advances and fled her room; however, his cloak remained in her hand. Though he was innocent, when the staff saw the cloak, and heard her tale, he was sent him to prison for years (Genesis 39). When we allow our eyes to communicate truth we run the risk of imposing a guilty verdict without a fair trial. How many people have you sent to prison over a wound that was perceived rather than factual? Goodness. I’ve sent a few; I’ve locked them up with a grudge and believed their intention was to hurt me rather than allowing them to explain.
 
So what do I do when my eyes tell me a story? I run fast to God for clarification.
  • Have I misunderstood? Seek to understand the truth.
  • Is fear driving my perception?
  • Am I being overly sensitive? (This is a great possibility with me).
  • Am I allowing my imagination to rule over my thoughts?
  • Am I jumping to unnecessary conclusions?
 
My belief will determine my behavior. When I choose to believe something that wasn’t there it will have an effect on me, and the way I behave towards others. How many relationships have been broken because one person saw something that wasn’t intended and became offended? 
Wise Solomon reminds us, “ A wise person demonstrates patience, for mercy means holding your tongue. When you are insulted, be quick to forgive and forget it, for you are virtuous when you overlook an offense” (Proverbs 19:11, TPT). Who knows? You might be overlooking an offense you saw but no one else did.

As Pat’s co-pilot, I will continue to help him see what might be easy for him to miss; however, I will also remain aware that what I spy with my little eye might not actually be there. 


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Appreciation Brightens the Change

10/19/2019

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During the last week of September, my husband usually begins the process of preparation for our pool for its season of rest. After he removes the handrails, a diving board and stairs, he hunts me down for my help.  After Pat does the manual labor, I assist him by holding the air compressor nozzle to each pipe until all of the air is removed from the pool lines. We don’t want to find a broken water line in the spring.  Once he is sure the pipe is free from air, he caps the inlets on each end of the pool. Every year, this scene is completed and without fail, as I stand in the pool house, I reminisce. This, I will confess, usually leads to a bit of complaining. No one can hear me because of the extreme noise of the air compressor, so I am even free to complain out loud. As my mind replays the fun of our warm summer days of play, my disappointment level increases at the thought of another summer’s end. My eyes remain focused on Pat, as I need to watch intensely for the “thumbs up” that lets me know when to remove the nozzle. My mind and mouth, however, are focused on my sadness over the loss of summertime as I grumble to the Lord about the changing of seasons.
 
As Central New Yorkers living east of Lake Ontario our little town is a perfect target for snow. We can accumulate snow, lots of heavy wet lake effect snow. A few years back, Parish welcomed 88” of snow over three days. With thoughts of all things snow—blowers, shovels, ice and storms—my heart yearns for a longer season of warm summer sunshine. On this day though, as I grumbled away in my gloom over what was coming, I took note of the still small voice within me as He whispered, “Instead of grumbling over the fact it’s time to close the pool, why don’t you thank Me for the enjoyment you had in the pool? Rather than feeling sad that summer is over, thank Me for the memories you made. You should thank Me at the close of every season for all I’ve provided during that season. Appreciation will Brighten the Change of every single season if you look for Me in them.” I was struck by His words. Thank Him at the end of every season? I only thank Him at the end of winter because I am just SO thankful it’s over. I’ve never thanked Him for my time in a particular season, or for the new one approaching. Usually, my focus is on what I feel I am losing or the dread of what comes next.
 
As summer days pass on, I’m thinking about fall, which will usher in the beauty of changing leaves. However, with winter imminent, my thoughts quickly turn to the next season, so I never enjoy fall quite like I should.  I’m rejoicing when winter finally begins to fade, and spring shows up at our doorstep. While I might enjoy the warmer days and spring flowers, my eyes quickly look towards the plans of summer. This “ah-ha moment” helped me recognize that the same has been true in my spiritual life. I’ve failed to allow Appreciation to Brighten the Change of the seasons I’ve passed through. I may shoot out a “Thank You” because a difficult season is over, but I haven’t allowed appreciation to exude from me for the beauty of the growth within me that came from the season. I realize how my spiritual seasons look something like this:
 
In the spring season, I welcome the new as signs of life and new growth begin to appear from under the earth. Spring always feels like a season of revival for me. We begin to come out from hibernation after those long, cold winter days. It’s time to enjoy the warming sun and longer days. We unlock the windows, open them wide and spring cleaning begins. Fresh. Spring is like a fresh start. Spiritually, my spring season brings anticipation as I sense God is about to move. Isaiah wrote, “Behold, the former things have come to pass, and new things I declare; before they spring forth I tell you of them” (42:4, NKJV). I love a spring season in my spiritual life when I sense God is awakening something new within me. I am open to His spring–cleaning deep in my soul, seeking Him for the fresh and new. Well, I should clarify; sometimes I’m guilty of being open to the new as long as I feel I am in control of what’s coming. There are some aspects of a spring season I’ve found difficult to endure; like those April showers – the ones that brought flooding to our finished basement, more than once. While we were working feverishly to prevent the water from entering, it was impossible to stop. We prayed for it to stop—actually, we prayed for it not to happen—but it happened regardless. I’ve had some struggles during my spiritual spring when I’ve felt helpless, praying earnestly for God to stop what I couldn’t. Appreciation will brighten the change within a rainy spring season when I thank Him for growing my faith. It’s during this season that I’ve learned to trust when God says “no” or “wait” because He has a better plan, even if I might not understand it.
 
In the summer season, I enjoy family vacations and lazy days at the beach, relaxing by the pool, BBQs and family reunions. We enjoy the heat—which can be just right—although some days it feels a little too hot. The high-humidity-sticky-hot kind of heat that can become so uncomfortable it’s almost unbearable. For many years, we didn’t have an air-conditioner in our home, so there was no escaping the heat; a fan was our only comfort. A little cool air was better than no air at all. I’ve experienced some hot, dry spells in my spiritual seasons of summer as well, which have left me thirsty and uncomfortable, longing for refreshment in my soul. I refer to these moments as my wilderness wanderings.  As I press through a dry season, I seek to understand why I can’t seem to hear God, or why He seems so distant. I, like David, find myself calling out, “You, God, are my God, earnestly I seek You; I thirst for You, my whole being longs for you, in a dry and parched land where there is no water” (Psalm 63:1, NIV). My spiritual summer season becomes sticky-hot as the Lord begins to correct and discipline, whereas the enemy uses the heat to cause apathy in my quiet time with the Lord. Appreciation brightens the change within a hot, dry season as I learn to press through the dry times, remaining faithful and dependent upon Him to bring the refreshment I long for. He alone can quench my thirst.
 
In the fall season, our eyes behold the beauty of the changing leaves. We enjoy apples picked right off the tree and all things pumpkin. Also, in our family, a love for football brings excitement and anticipation for the Green Bay Packers. Schedules tighten up as kids go back to school, and the windows begin to close at night as cooler air is ushered in.  In my spiritual season of fall, I’ve learned from the leaves that it is okay to let go. I’ve even noticed some leaves let go when their color is still vibrant; they don’t wait until they are dead. They’ve taught me I must not hold so tightly to friendships that are out of season, plans and schedules, my right to hold a grudge or what other people think. You know, all things relating to…well…me. Solomon’s words in Ecclesiastes chapter three have been helpful to me during a season of letting go. This passage reminds me that God has an appointed time for every season. Every season. It’s hard to live free when you’re consumed by the need to control. Appreciation brightens the change of my fall season as I experience the freedom of letting go and allow God to work all things together for good (Romans 8:28). Beauty will burst forth when I do.
 
The remaining season is the season of winter. I have never been a fan of winter. Pat and I grew up in Western part of New York State with plans of moving away from the unrelenting winters standard to that area. The Lord had other plans for us and planted us in an area that yearly accumulates an equal amount of snow, if not more. For me, winter ushers in temperatures that are too cold for my liking. While there are moments in which winter may look pretty, snow often interferes with and disrupts plans. All creation seems to stop. The trees go bare, the birds stop their song and the days get very long and dark. Stillness settles over us in the winter. Job 37:7 from the Amplified Bible says, “God seals (brings to a standstill, stops) [by severe weather] the hand of every man, that all men [whom He has made] may know His work [that is, His sovereign power and their subjection to it].” I’ve found myself in a spiritual season of winter numerous times when the unexpected ushered in storm after storm of disrupted plans and dreams. I’ve experienced long dark days of depression and confusion, which left me feeling cold, bare and empty. Bitterness creates quite a chill inside a heart.  But while winter may look like death to the natural eye, there is still life beneath the snow and cold. We discover how busy the moles have been throughout the winter as the snow melts; a lot can happen under the covered soil, in the dark.  And in my seasons of winter—while the weight of my pain is crushing—God is still able to work. I become still and in the stillness He is able to speak. This is where He whispers, “Be still in My presence and wait patiently for Me to act (Psalm 37:7)” Simply, Be still. Appreciation brightens the change during the winter season when I remain still during the storm, trusting in His Sovereign power. May we all seek to discover His work in the deep dark places as we remain still before Him.
 
God often ushers us through cycles of seasons, and we can treasure each one if we decide to allow…
 
Appreciation: an ability to understand the worth, quality, or importance of something: an ability to appreciate something.
 
to Brighten: to make (something) more colorful or cheerful.
 
the Change: to make (someone or something) different. (Merriam-webster.com)
 
in every. single. one.
 
#BeYou
A-Appreciative

 
 

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Don't Throw the Move Away

6/14/2019

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“Don’t throw this move away.” I’d heard her say these words numerous times over the last few weeks but honestly, hadn’t paid much attention to them.  On this particular day, however, it was as if I were hearing them for the first time.
 
The her I am referring to is the instructor on the workout video I committed myself to completing. It’s called Slim in Six, and after years of a less-than-stellar exercise habit, I decided this was the year of change. But, as is my customary pattern, after a few days of effort, I’d begun complaining to my husband because the results I wanted to see where still in hiding.
 
“Give it time,” he said.
“You just started,” he said.
“It’s taken you years to put on the weight you can’t expect to lose it in six days,” he said.
“It’s Slim in Six weeks, not six hours,” he said.
 
All true, but then I heard those five words.
 
Don’t throw this move away.
 
The move she was referring to is a simple move – reaching up and over; perhaps this is why she thinks people will throw it away. We might discount its value.  She also reminds me during the workout that each move counts, and they are all here for a reason so it’s important to make the effort. After all, I am worth it.   
 
Is it possible results lack when I assume a simple move is a pointless one? Have I been putting my all into every move she’s asked me to do? Have I been faithful to complete each and every move with my best effort? The answer is an honest – no! When the effort becomes too difficult—I take a water break; yet, when the move seems too simple—I discount its value. My goodness. What might the results be if I valued each move regardless of its simplicity or difficulty?
 
As she motivates me to be mindful that every move has value in exercise, I become aware that every move God asks me to make has value, too. Yet, often I discount the move, or fail to make the effort, when I don’t feel I am worth it – or I fail to see the results I was hoping for. 
 
It’s easy to discount the moves we make to improve relationships when the results are not as we expected. I recently encouraged a friend to not throw away the move of the apology God asked her to make. She was ready to when the results weren’t what she’d anticipated. It’s not easy to humble our self and seek forgiveness for a hurt we’ve caused. And, why bother to apologize at all if we never see a change in the relationship? It’s not easy to wait for the heart of the offended to soften, but we shouldn’t discount our obedience to the Lord and assume the apology didn’t matter.
 
Thinking back to my days as a stay-at-home mom, repeating the same statements countless times. I’d think to myself if they didn’t hear me the first 1,567,499 times what makes me think they are going to hear me now? But I continued to repeat them.
 
“Put the toilet seat down.”
“Don’t touch your sister.”
“Please remove your dirty shoes outside.”
“Please shut the door behind you.”
“Please just eat your dinner without complaining.”
“Walk, don’t run.”
“Say, ‘Thank you’ or ‘Please.’”
 
Oh, mommas, as tempting as it is to throw the move of repetition away, don’t discount the value of good instruction. “Those who listen to instruction will prosper; those who trust the Lord will be joyful” (Proverbs 16:20, NLT). I can promise you one day you will see the results of your commitment to repetition. You will see your instructions lived out through your children. And as an added bonus, you will hear your children repeating themselves to your grandchildren.
 
We discount the value of our efforts to walk in obedience to God when we feel we have the right to determine the outcome. I think every act of kindness should be met with a thank you and a high five. Is it? No. After the battle I just endured to maintain my composure I’d like to have my patience recognized and rewarded. Will it be? No. When my flesh craves to be accepted, appreciated, and applauded should I discount every act of love because I was rejected, neglected, and criticized? Again–no. God does not discount faithfulness.
 
I’ve heard many fitness coaches talk about the importance of stretching but not stressing our muscles. I think God works like that, too. He’s not trying to add stress to our lives but He certainly will stretch us to become the person He created us to be. We simply must remember our responsibility is to move when God says to. He will take it from there. Every move He asks us to make is spiritual training so be faithful to put forth your best effort. He’s worth it, and so are we.
 
As I allow God to change my identity—one letter at a time—I finally recognize it’s my responsibility to M-Move.  I will no longer discount the task He’s put before me—whatever that may be—based on the outcome I see with my natural eyes. When He says, “Move” I won't throw it away. I want to remember what Paul wrote to Timothy, “For bodily exercise profits a little, but godliness is profitable for all things, having promise of the life that now is and of that which is to come” (I Timothy 4:8 NKJV).

What about you? Are you ready to 
#BeYou
​M-Moveable
 
 
 


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Fearing the Hard

4/6/2019

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I can pinpoint exactly when I recognized that the anxiety within me was actually caused by my fear of hard things. I’d never considered how closely the two were related until the day my husband suggested it was a good time for a nap while he drove along the Interstate.  

Perhaps suggested isn’t the right word. Encouraged? Requested? Demanded? He might use a different word, but let’s just say he was overly frustrated with my supervision of his driving skills. No longer wanting my suggestions on how his driving could improve, and to help alleviate my stress, he recommended I go to sleep. Happily, I obliged, but not before he told me I was an overly nervous person. “I am not nervous,” I protested. “You just drive too fast.”

I knew that wasn’t totally true. While I do think he drives too fast, the reality is my nerves do tend to get the best of me sometimes. After reclining the seat, I closed my eyes and began a conversation with the Lord. “Why does anxiety have this grip on me?” I asked. In no time at all, I realized that my anxiety becomes elevated when my thoughts become fearful. And I have a fear of hard things.

When my sister-in-law became a widow with two small children I began to beg God for protection from the hard work of widowhood. This also seemed to be around the time I began to hear the faint whisper of what if every single time I witness a hard moment in someone’s life. Fear, it seems, lies dormant within me ready to rise at the most unexpected moments, brought on by the simple whisper of what if.

When infidelity was discovered in a friend’s marriage—I heard the whisper.
When my sister became a quadriplegic—I heard the whisper.
When the doctor report gave a death sentence—I heard the whisper.
When the accident stole a husband—I heard the whisper.
When addiction threatened families—I heard the whisper.
When reconciliation evaded relationships—I heard the whisper.

Like a faint breeze when the subtle whisper of what if breaks into my thoughts, anxiety is quick to engage. This allows fear to lock in as scenarios begin to play out in my mind. Suddenly, my thoughts turn into pleas for God’s mercy so I can avoid all hard things. If I am willing to listen closely, God--in His mercy—will remind me of His promise to never leave me, nor forsake me, if I should find myself on the hard road (Hebrews 13:5). And let’s be real – life provides plenty of opportunity to travel down hard roads.

And therein lies my issue. God never intended for me to live in fear of hardship; His intent is for me to trust Him through hardship. He hasn’t given me a spirit of power, love, and a sound mind so I could allow my thoughts to dwell in fear of the what if (2 Timothy 1:7). Instead, He says I should relinquish my habit of creating my own conclusions to every unexpected hard moment and think like Christ. Allow His thoughts and purposes to be my guide (1 Corinthians 2:16). After all, Paul tells us God is “… able to [carry out His purpose and] do superabundantly more than all that we dare ask or think [infinitely beyond our greatest prayers, hopes, or dreams], according to His power that is at work within us” (Ephesians 3:20, AMP). That’s pretty powerful.

So why do I fall prey to the tormenting possibilities what if? Perhaps you, like me, have allowed the whisper to become a roar when you’ve found yourself on a hard road. There are…

Hard circumstances
Hard choices
Hard conflicts
Hard conversations
Hard changes
Hard commitments, and
Hard confessions

Every hard moment (and some are excruciating) offers what if the opportunity to plant fear where hope should be. Before we know it we’ve become so rattled by the hard thing facing us, that we allow our emotions to make final decisions. When fear of the hard presses—we seek quick exits. Wouldn’t it be nice if our hard moments were like Escape Rooms? Grab a few friends, here’s some clues on how to succeed, you have an hour to work together and find the solution. Unfortunately that’s not how it works. So we ignore, pretend, reject, disregard, push down any part of hard we possibly can to avoid. But, not all hard things are bad things. When we believe every hard experience should be avoided, we won’t see God work all things together for good in our lives (Romans 8:28). We also will miss the opportunity to see God do that superabundant thing that we don’t even dare to ask or even think.

We will have many opportunities as we journey down this road. There will be hard conversations to have; we need to stop avoiding them. There are changes that bring excitement. Yet, sometimes change brings pain, or that unknown factor to it. Let’s start allowing God be our strength through every season of change. Commitments can be hard, and right now you may find the commitment you made is much more than you bargained for. Imagine—instead of listening to the what if —you began to ask God to help you follow through in the same way Jesus asked for help while in the Garden. When the commitment to the cross weighed heaviest upon Jesus, He prayed for another way, but He settled for God’s will over His own in that moment (Matthew 26:38-40).

Perhaps you’ve pushed down the confession you know you should make because what if is screaming so loud you’ve become twisted in fear. The good news is found in 1 John 1:9, “But if we confess our sins to him, he can be depended on to forgive us and to cleanse us from every wrong. And it is perfectly proper for God to do this for us because Christ died to wash away our sins” (TLB).  Perfectly Proper – that’s God’s way.

Our true identity will get lost in fear if we don’t learn to shutdown the whisper of what if quickly. We begin to change our identity—one letter at a time—when we remind the whisper of what if Who is on our side, and where our hope is found. We serve a Superabundant God and He can handle anything.

Including my time spent on the hard road, and my husband’s driving.  

#BeYou
H-Hopeful on the hard road













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Pace Yourself

8/15/2018

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For my 54th birthday, my hubby gifted me with a bicycle, and I discovered—while it’s true you never forget how to ride a bike—the pace definitely slows down a bit if you haven’t ridden in a long time. Or exercised regularly (apparently, how fit you are makes a difference, too).
 
As a kid, I enjoyed riding my bike, and as a teenager it often served as my transportation. My bicycle carried me from our home outside of town to my friends, social activities and my summer job. Riding the three miles to town was a piece of cake—back then! Now however, as a woman in my fifties, who hasn’t been on a bicycle in years, the piece of cake is found on my dessert plate.
 
After a few weeks of riding alone I suggested we get Pat a bike too; having his company would add fun to my rides, and help motivate me to go. Soon we were both hitting the road on two wheels together. Loneliness was no longer my problem with Pat by my side. I now had another problem to contend with—such as keeping up with him. (He’s a bit more physically fit than I).
 
On our last ride together I became aware of the fact that he remained behind me the entire ride—an unusual occurrence—as he typically leads the way. His leading might seem insignificant, but as we rode I began to notice a difference in the pace I set, and continued to keep, with him behind me instead of out in front, or beside me.
 
We always seem to start out at a relaxed pace, riding next to one another, falling into a rhythm, while maintaining a comfortable speed--for me. But it is never long before he naturally finds himself out in the lead. Which suits me just fine; he's a great leader and I love to follow his lead. 
 
However, when Pat is out in front of me it becomes incredibly easy for me to give up peddling whenever it becomes too difficult and I feel I can’t continue. There’s a hill on our road and I have yet been able to conquer it. Probably because my definition of resistance training is to resist training whenever my muscles begin to put up a fuss. For instance, when my leg muscles begin to scream, enough already on that hill, I hop off my bike and walk it the rest of the way up. And when Pat is in front of me it’s much easier to quit because he won’t see. He’s gone on ahead of me, at his own pace and by the time he notices I’m no longer behind him he’s at the top of the hill watching me walk next to my bike.  
 
But on this particular ride we rode at my pace. I repeatedly told him he should pass me (I wanted him to pass me! I all but begged him to pass me!) He, however, refused and followed behind at a pace comfortable for me, not him. As we rode along I began to notice a shift in my determination not to quit. I pushed through every temptation to stop because I knew he was behind me, encouraging me to keep going.
 
You are doing great!
You can make it!
Don’t give up!
 
With him behind me I was also accountable. Encouraged, but accountable. I couldn’t just stop and get away with it. That was a good thing; it wasn’t an easy thing, but it was most definitely a good thing.
 
I realized, as we rode, how God uses people to play different roles in the lives of others. There are those who step out in front and lead by example. Others are destined to stay beside us and walk at our pace. These are the ones who are always within reach should we need them. We are in step together and that is comforting. They keep us moving at a steady pace.  
 
And then there are those willing to fall in behind us—not rushing to step beside us as they quickly make their way past—but patiently steadying us from behind as they offer support and encouragement. They’re the ones who know what we are capable of becoming and commit to be part of our progress. They hold us accountable.
 
Are you leading someone, in step with someone or are you following closely from behind? Let me ask you this: 
 
 Are you where you’re supposed to be? Are you doing your part where you are?
 
  • If you are in the lead, don’t get so far out in front that you forget to stop every-so-often to check on how those following are doing. Maybe someone is walking up the hill instead of riding because you’re not looking.
  • If you are beside someone, keep the steady pace, but make sure you don’t allow complacency to settle over someone. Sometimes a nudge is needed or you may need to move ahead because it’s time to move at your own pace.
  • If you are following someone from behind keep your eyes on them and become settled into their pace. Don’t forget words of encouragement go a long way in the process of moving forward.  
 
Whether we are riding right now: in the lead, beside or behind, one thing is for certain – God has a place for us in the lives of others. As we allow Him to change our identity—one letter at a time—let’s continually ask Him to “smooth out [His] road in front of me, straight and level so that I will know where to walk” (Psalm 5:8, TPT) and then do our best to remain there.
 
#BeYou
P-Pace yourself









 

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End the Off

7/24/2018

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Social media can be one of those tools in life we love-to-hate, don’t you think?  I’ll be honest, as a Sanguine personality I love the social interactions but sometimes the media gets to me. This was true when, not long ago, I stumbled into a pit of self-pity after being caught off-guard by an friend's innocent post.

The trip, and eventual fall, came after a simple scroll through my Facebook newsfeed alluded to my being ignored, disregarded and unwanted. Of course, this was all pretense as there was no factual evidence this was done purposely. However, the longer I wallowed in this pit of misery, a seed was implanted and rejection began to take root. Rejection quickly turned into a twisted weed of offense, which wrapped right around my heart and put a stranglehold on my thoughts. I endured a few miserable days.

Misery festered until I was reminded of Paul’s warning to the church in Ephesus. We should heed his warning today as he left us with instruction for obtaining victory in the battles we would endure. He wrote, “in every battle, take faith as your wrap-around shield, for it is able to extinguish the blazing arrows coming at you from the Evil One!” (Ephesians 6:16, TPT). The Evil One released the arrow and had hit its intended mark—bullseye! I confess – it hit me hard. I allowed the arrow to remain implanted for a few days while I sputtered and stewed to the Lord about the matter. Step one: recognize who is shooting the arrows at you. 

The Great Counselor compassionately listened as I poured out my hurting heart to Him, but after a few days He began to gently nudge me towards freedom. (He only allows me so much time in self-pity mode before He begins to challenge my thinking). This time was no different, and He began to speak to my heart about the word offend. What He began to show me was so helpful I want to pass it on to you! Step two: recognize when it's time to listen to the Holy Spirit's nudge.

When we fail to guard our heart (Proverbs 4:23), it becomes an easy target for hurt, which often leads to offense. Goodness, offense is easy to latch on to these days; it seems to be a quick response in every situation. We are in a war with the spirit of offense as it seeks out opportunity to imprison its captives.  Solomon wasn’t lying when he wrote, “it is easier to conquer a strong city than to win back a friend whom you’ve offended. Their walls go up, making it nearly impossible to win them back” (Proverbs 18:19 TPT). But have you ever noticed the two words that make up the word offend? Look closely. They are OFF and END.

Off is defined this way: From a place or position, at a distance, separated from support. (Merriam-Webster.com).

End is defined this way: The point that marks the extent of something - it ceases to exist. (Merriam-Webster).

I realize now how the sting of offense often leads me to a place of separation from the one who pierced me. I tend to shut myself OFF for a bit, and avoid contact with the offender. This is a bit more difficult to do when the offender lives with me (it doesn’t happen often, but every now and then…). Usually stepping away helps me sort through the matter with the Lord.

BUT...

The next part of the word is END, and the Lord’s plan is for us to bring the matter to Him so it can END – quickly. He wants us to end the matter quickly because the pure in heart see Him; the pure in heart hear Him (Matthew 5:8). Offense clutters and contaminates the heart. Wise Solomon said, “The end of a matter is better than its beginning; patience of spirit is better than haughtiness of spirit (pride)” (Ecclesiastes 7:8 AMP).

When I was in the ‘off’ stage of my offense, I was ‘off’ and miserable. Oh, I was a grumpy ol’ gal. My only focus was on the perceived wrong done to me. Once I hit the ‘end’ of the matter the offense reached its extent and ceased to exist and I felt better. I felt free, actually. Step three: recognize what the offense is costing you (and others).

There will be plenty of opportunities for us to trip over offense and land in the pit of self-pity. However, we allow our identity to change—one letter at a time—when we discover the freedom that comes from reaching the end.  No need to remain off—end the matter, forgive the offender, and remove the Evil One’s arrow.

Step four: #BeYou
E-End the matter
 
 


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A Sacrifice of Praise

5/10/2018

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I’m noticing a new trend within the first few days of May—social media conversations have become a firestorm of controversy over Mother’s Day. While I’ve always enjoyed gleaning advice from articles on celebrating motherhood, honoring mom or ways to encourage someone who has been like a mother to us – not everyone does.

It seems as Mother’s Day approaches a great emotional surge awakens the desire for celebrations to cease and acknowledgments to be done away with. Pastors are being encouraged to rethink having mothers stand to be recognized; some even suggesting churches stop handing out small gifts to mothers completely. Recently, I read a comment on a Mother’s Day post, expressing a desire for the day to be done away with altogether. A woman accused another of being insensitive after she expressed her opinion that honoring mom’s should continue. And the “insensitive” one was writing from a heart wounded by abortion and infertility. Ouch.

Ladies, I can’t take it anymore. This hurts my heart for so many reasons. And if it hurts mine, I can’t imagine how it must hurt our heavenly Father’s heart.  Now, before you react and call me insensitive, let me finish please.

I understand the pain, for some, is from the longing to become a mom and infertility has robbed you from the experience. I don’t know the struggle personally, but I have walked beside some who do. I’ve wept and prayed long and hard for those I’ve known yearning to experience the miracle of creating a child within their womb – but wombs remain empty. And within these relationships, I’ve known women who allowed bitterness to replace what the womb couldn’t hold, and I’ve known others who—although crushed beneath the weight of desire—fought like crazy to remain free of that trap. They’ve congratulated and embraced others with pregnancy news even while longing to be the next one to share it.

Mother’s Day is also hard for those who have had their moms leave this earth and the day brings one more reminder of how much they miss her. We miss Pat's mom each Mother's Day and this year will be the first Mother's Day my niece and nephew spend without my sister. Loss is hard. 

Broken relationships also make the day more than difficult and there are plenty who struggle with Mother’s Day due to the memories of an abusive mom. The day can easily cause the pain to intensify. Not growing up with an abusive mother doesn’t make it difficult to hurt for those who did. I’ve only heard portions of my friend Brynn’s story, but it hurts to listen as she shares bits and pieces of her past with me. Brynn suffered terrible abuse at the hands of her mother. I asked her to share her perspective on Mother’s Day…

Mother’s Day can be tough when you have a difficult mother. There are those who cannot have a relationship with their mom because of abuse. There was so much abuse in my home because of my mother, I didn’t know how to deal with it and kept it to myself.
Amazingly, I learned about God through an after-school program and accepted Christ when I was twelve years old. That’s how I survived my teen years. I cried as I read and marked up my Bible, and God was the only one I could talk to about my sadness. My mother continued to manipulate and control me after I became an adult. I went to Bible College with the hope of becoming a missionary. But I couldn’t return after my third year because I became suicidal and had difficulty concentrating. Instead, I married, started a family, and worked a full-time job. But, ten years later I became suicidal again and then again ten years after that.
When I turned fifty I no longer continued the trend of becoming suicidal; I finally got help from a licensed professional counselor and it took many years to work through my trauma. Through counseling, I learned that my relationship with my mother was detrimental to my well-being. My counselor taught me to care for myself – something I had never learned. It wasn’t easy, but I made the decision to remove myself from my mother’s control.
When I started to get better, I let her back in. But when I saw that my health was being hurt again, I had to remove her from my life again. My mother continues to try to guilt me into letting her back into my life. She stalks my siblings and me on the Internet and manipulates others into trying to reach us. She pays out tens of thousands of dollars to try to accomplish her desires, but because I’m a healed counselee, it no longer affects me like it did.
I spent many years protecting my mother. Her ability to use me strengthened her. She gets weak when she doesn’t have someone to control, so she finds people to buy who don’t realize the price they must pay for agreeing to be bought. When I share my story, people often assume I need to forgive my mother. But what people often misunderstand is that forgiveness and reconciliation are two different things. Reconciliation requires action by both the offender and the abused. Since my mother has not made steps toward reconciliation, there’s nothing I can do to mend the relationship. I no longer feel guilty even when she throws barbs at me –which happens at least a couple times a year. She is responsible for her actions and I’m responsible for mine.
So I choose to pray for her well-being and her soul. Now, on Mother’s Day, I enjoy the legacy I was able to begin with my own children – by the grace of God. I love my children and they love me. It doesn’t get better than that!” – Brynn

Which do you relate to? Are you aching because of infertility?  Grieving because of loss? Haunted by the pain of abuse? Whatever upsets you on this day, let me say, I'm sorry the day is hard for you. Truly, I am. But here's what I need to ask, does not acknowledging the day for some prevent the pain for others? When we turn our focus inward and only see what was lost—or what we desire but don't have—bitterness consumes hearts quickly. Bitter hearts promptly become jealous ones and when that happens it becomes impossible for anyone to stand before us without envy (Proverbs 27:4).

This is when we begin to believe if it's too painful for me - no one should enjoy it. King Solomon once found himself in the middle of a dispute between two women; each claiming to be the mother of one infant after death claimed the life of another. When his solution was to cut the baby in half, the birth mother begged him to give the baby to the other woman. But the other woman said, “He shall be neither mine nor yours; cut him” (1 Kings 3:26). Have we become so jaded by loss and disappointment that we feel this way about Mother’s Day? If I can’t celebrate the day – I don’t want anyone to. We’ve forgotten how to “rejoice with those who rejoice [sharing others’ joy], and weep with those who weep [sharing others’ grief] (Romans 1215, AMP). Instead, we’ve become a body of Believers who are unable to celebrate with others when our own life is hard or disappointing.

If your womb is empty, could there be the hope of motherhood through adoption, foster parenting or mentoring? Yes, I understand it's not the same as giving birth but there are many children in need of a mom, right? I’m asking the Lord to fill your heart with desire for His will – whatever that looks like.

If you have only the memory of a great mom – remember her this Mother’s Day. Shed tears for how you miss her but don’t begrudge the day every year because she can’t be with you. Honor her memory. Has someone stepped in as a mother figure when your birth mother was no longer there? Give thanks for her. Maybe you could find a mom who will spend the day alone and adopt her for the day. Celebrate someone's mom on this day – if not your own.

If you’re one haunted by abuse at the hands of your mother, I am asking the Lord right now to heal you from those wounds. I hope you can take the steps Brynn took to find healing. She is one of the most joyous ladies I know. Was a friend’s mother there for you during your hard years? Can you honor her? What about honoring our Spiritual mothers? Is there someone you can honor for pouring into your life spiritually?  

One of God's top ten is to "Honor your mother and father" (Exodus 20:12) and when we are able to offer a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, even when it hurts, we are also honoring God (Psalm 50:23).

If your heart aches when Mother's Day draws near – I am asking the Lord to soothe the pain. Maybe you're a mom walking beside someone who desires to be one – love on her this Mother's Day. Hug her tight.  And if the Pastor asks mothers to stand in church please clap and honor them without resenting him for doing so. This is a true sacrifice of praise.

Honor Him as you honor a mother.  
#BeYou
​S-Sacrificial 

Comments
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    "...Exhort one another daily, while it is called 'Today,' 
    lest any of you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin
    " (Hebrews 3:13, NKJV).

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