Does God Change His Mind?

"Sometimes things don't go the way we expect, not because He's punishing us, but because He's protecting us or preparing us." 

A wise friend

Does God change His mind? Or do we change and so He has to go to Plan B? I usually take the time to think out what I’m writing before I post, but right now, I feel like I don’t know much of anything so the only thing I have is questions.

This time last year, I was certain God was moving me. I started giving away furniture, ready to go wherever it was He wanted me. I started looking for non-profit jobs out-of-state, certain that’s where I was supposed to be. I still have storage bins I haven’t unpacked from that original thought. While going through that job search, a friend pointed me to GO Project. I loved their mission and instantly felt called to go on a five-day trip to Haiti with them. While I was there I discovered the organization had a communications fellowship. I came back convinced and convicted that God had this plan for me, that by August I would be in Haiti for a year.

I couldn't wait to share my news with everyone. Despite people’s doubt in my answering this supposed call, I wasn't wavered. It all made sense. I had the education, the experience and the heart for it. This is what I do for a living and now I could combine that with my passion. A perfect fit like this could only be the hand of God, right? That’s what I thought. As I explained this to one of my friends on a walk, she drew from the wisdom I admire in her: You have the education, the experience and the passion. There’s nothing tying you down here. In our human eyes, it all adds up. So if it doesn't happen, that’s exactly how you know God has something else in mind.  A week later, I found out He apparently had something else in mind. I wouldn't end up in Haiti or out of state. He kept me right where I was.

Less than a year later, I thought I had His “real” plan figured out. My heart for foster care was what sent me to Haiti. Not long after I got back from Haiti, in April, Quincy officially became host to a chapter of The Forgotten Initiative, an organization devoted to building a relationship between the Church and the foster care system. As the main advocate, my friend Amy now had the task of raising awareness, volunteers and funds. She recruited me as a team member, and from day one I have loved everything about this mission. I've had so much fun using the gifts I feel God has given me to serve some awesome people that too often don’t have the resources they need. The more time spent working with the team and the more DCFS workers I met, the more I felt God calling me to go further in my commitment.  When I was married, my husband and I talked about doing foster care, but it was never something I thought of doing on my own. That thought was overwhelming. But one day a DCFS worker just straight out asked me, “Why aren't you a foster parent?” When you've seen some of these children’s situations, all the reasons you can come up with in that moment just seem like excuses.

1. Me: There’s only one of me. God: One advocate for a child is better than none and you have more than enough people in your life willing to help out. 
2. Me: I can’t afford it. God: You just paid your off; that will free up some funds. 
3. Me: I need a bigger place. God: Here's a substantial raise for you to get a bigger one. 

One by one through the months, God eliminated the excuses and now it was my turn to respond in faith.

So I did. When not one but two friends asked me why I didn't just buy a house, my excuses had run out. I started looking and I found the perfect house in the area I wanted. It passed the inspection with flying colors and I locked in at a great interest rate with a final payment less than my current rent and old car payment combined. I felt God saying yes, yes, yes; until He said no.

Today I got the call that the house fell through and with that news came the flood of questions, just like last summer. But tonight for this entry, my focus is just one. Does God change his mind? If you have prayed and fasted over a situation, studied God’s Word and examined your heart and thoughts in light of it and sought the wisdom of others, how is it that it doesn't end up the way you thought it was supposed to be? Am I that far off or is He calling an audible for the back-up play, Plan C? Does God change His mind?

I don’t have the answer. So tonight I sat down to find it.

This is what I found:

Malachi 3:6- For I the Lord do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed.

James 1:17- Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.

Number 23:19- God is not a man, that He should lie, nor a son of man, that He should change His mind. 

Does He speak and then not act? Does He promise and not fulfill?

PEOPLE! REROUTING HERE! TIME OUT! No lie this just happened after I finished typing that last verse:

My landlord called. I left her a message earlier letting her know the sale fell through and I’d be sticking around awhile longer. First, let me start by saying my landlord has been an angel for me. When I first made the decision to separate from my husband I made that decision with every intention that I was going back home to him, but while we were doing counseling I needed to be in a safe place. The problem was no one wanted to give me a short term. I was an emotional wreck and I felt like I was going to be in a financial wreck. She took a risk on me, joining me in prayer that my marriage would be saved. She told me when God said it was my time to go, I go.

Fast forward to our conversation tonight. She was sad for me, knowing how hard I've worked to move forward. But she called to ask me if I wouldn't mind her showing my apartment to the tenant across the street. The apartment he's in is just too big for him, and since I'll still be looking for a house, this will at least maybe help him stay in the one he has a little longer knowing mine will be opening up within the year. As we were talking about his situation, I told her I had the exact opposite problem - my biggest problem is that I've outgrown this one and I need more space and that's one of the reasons I started looking to buy; I wanted a bigger place but no lease. She said, "Well, Anna, what would you think about swapping with him? Or better yet! I had a wonderful couple move out of a house down the street last week and it has a room upstairs that would be great for a child. And no lease; when it's your time to move, you move."

She said all of this not knowing that I'm sitting here writing about how I'm supposed to get a house so I can do foster care and trying to figure out what God's doing.

So I just straight out said, "Claire, you won't believe it, but I've been sitting here searching my Bible trying to answer the question does God change His mind. I had just typed a verse that said He doesn't, but I hadn't figured out what I thought about that yet, and then you called!"

So here's what I think about what I found:

She said the same thing she told me two years ago: when it's your time to go, you go. God doesn't change His mind. Proverbs 19:21 says, "Many are the plans in a person's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails."

All of these moments have been chances for me to step out in faith toward His calling - the same one He has for all of us: to GO and share His love. When I was ready to move states, that step was giving away furniture. When I was ready to move to Haiti, I was willing to give up my financial security and everyday comforts. When I was ready to start foster care, I invested in the potential of a home. As my best friend said when I told her about tonight, "He just needed to get you to that point, just like the Haiti thing! (Note: she didn't know I was sitting here typing about that already either!) It changed your heart and when it did, He had something else in store. He knew all along. We're the silly humans that can't see what He's doing."

Another friend said, "Sometimes things don't go the way we expect, not because He's punishing us, but because He's protecting us or preparing us. Maybe you went to Haiti so you could learn to love children more. Maybe He sent you to prepare you to foster one day. Maybe you went because when you're 85 you're going to be called back. Only God knows, and that's okay."

My mom said, "Who are we to question God?"

I shouldn't; but tonight, I'm glad I did. Skipping training to sit here seeking understanding led me to the answer I needed. My situation may have changed, but God hasn't changed His calling on my life. Just like Numbers 23 said, "Does He speak and then not act?" No. God is still acting, just in ways I can't see - YET. God is all-knowing, all-powerful. He is sovereign. He has a plan and a purpose. He fulfills both.

He doesn't change.

"For I know the plans I have fore you," declares the Lord. "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you hope and a future."

Jeremiah 29:11

The Wall: There's Power in Prayer

“Our prayers may be awkward. Our attempts may be feeble. But since the power of prayer is in the One who hears it and not in the one who says it, our prayers do make a difference.” Max Lucado

In the simplest, most honest terms: I stink at praying.

I always have. Growing up I had a morning prayer, a meal time prayer and a bedtime prayer; one for each setting, never varying from my script. As I got older, I didn't really enjoy praying out loud but had a sense of obligation to always do so, knowing because of my outgoing personality, and let’s be honest- my gift of gab, that people expected me to be the one to lead. I knew it was a stumbling block in growing in my relationship with Christ and so in college I asked my parents for a prayer Bible as a gift. Along every page was a column featuring a prayer for that section of Scripture. That Bible still looks like it was never opened. I could pray through music, I could pray through writing but for whatever reason I could never just sit down and talk with God.

Until my divorce.

That journey brought me to a point I was literally face down on the ground crying out to God. I poured out every disappointment, every desire, every misstep, every longing; I just laid them out as they came. And it never stopped. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months and with every passing moment I was passing on my thoughts to God and asking for whatever help he would still give me, no matter the time or place. I was experiencing conversation with God at a level I had never thought possible. My prayers were no longer lengthy monologues or recitations performed for a king on his throne but dialogues and conversations with the Man who had faced life on this sin-filled earth just like me.  The best way I can explain it is that I truly was experiencing Living Water: "Anyone who believes in me may come and drink! For the Scriptures declare, 'River of living water will flow from his heart,'" John 7:38. I was thirsty for so many things: acceptance, healing, purpose; and when I came to Jesus with this empty cup, feeling rejected, ashamed and broken, and not wanting to live, he took that from me and gave me back this Mary Poppins bottomless cup full of his truths:

"For you formed my inward parts; you wove me in my mother’s womb. I will give thanks to you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are your works and my soul knows it very well." Psalm 139:13-14

"But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners." Romans 5:8

"And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28

Those conversations with Christ changed my life. I learned the power of prayer. And that got me excited. I thought: if God can do this in me, he can do it in my friends and in my family and even in my enemies. It was like realizing you have this tool that can save someone’s life, you've got to do something with it! But sometimes that excitement is blocked by life; we get distracted and lose our focus, we get busy and time escapes us. The excuses came but the excitement God planted didn't leave so I decided I needed something to help me become more disciplined in prayer.

In December, I had a couple friends move back to the area, and they needed some furniture. I live by myself, travel often and rarely have visitors so I decided I could give some of my pieces to them. This left me with an empty wall. I delayed getting replacement furniture but decided I should at least do something with the space. That’s when one night in conversation with God this idea for a prayer wall came to me. In the book of Joshua, God’s people took 12 stones out of the Jordan and Joshua set them up as a memorial. They were to remind the people that the Lord had dried up the Jordan so they could cross with the ark just as he’d dried up the Red Sea so they could escape Egypt (Joshua 4). I didn't have any stones but I had a wall. So I created something that would help me remember to pray specifically for others. A reminder to help them find the living water I had received and God so willingly wants them to have as well.

Just as those stones served as a reminder of how mighty God was then, my wall could remind me of how mighty God is now. He answers prayers- gosh, if you struggle with believing that just look at my life! The answers may be way different than I imagined but they are also way better. I’ll say it again- he answers prayer! But how often do we make it a priority to go to him and how often do we approach him with the faith that he’ll come through? Hebrews 4:16 says, "So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most." Too often we fail at this; we aren't boldly going. Billy Graham once said, "Heaven is full of answers to prayer for which no one ever bothered to ask." I hope I'm never the one who didn't ask!

My wall helps me make prayer a priority. In my tiny one bedroom apartment it stands at the top of my stairs in between my bedroom and the bathroom. There's no avoiding it. Every morning I wake up, I see it. At the end of the day when I get home, it's waiting for me; filled with pictures of loved ones serving and struggling, of children in need of a Savior, of the specific requests of friends pinned to a board as they come. The prayer wall has been up for over a month now and praise God, I have already seen prayers answered.

The other awesome part of it is that those prayers don't stop at the wall. That conversation is being carried on elsewhere. God is expanding our dialogues throughout the day to include the needs of others and not just myself. Growth is happening. For example, Thursday I went to the gym for the first time in two weeks and ran three miles- without my inhaler. On a good day, that's a struggle. After two weeks of being lazy, it's miserable. Usually, my mind will travel to thoughts of work or I'll focus on the TV or music, but at a mile and a half when  I was thinking I could just quit at two miles today, my mind went to a friend who currently has real estate on the prayer wall. This past week he was in Africa with Athletes in Action training track athletes in their sport and in their spiritual walks. When I couldn't breathe and wanted to quit early, my thought was, "Huh. I've got about five illustrations for our spiritual journeys from this darn treadmill!" The journey is a struggle but if we stay the course, it is worth it- Let us not lose heart in doing good, for in due time we will reap if we do not grow weary. Galatians 6:9. Or the journey is easier if you take your medicine; aka inhaler = Bible. Genius, right?! Instead of trying to push through by watching some worthless show, I got to pray for people on the other side of the world facing struggles I might never understand and pray for a team that made sacrifices to equip these individuals to push through and rise to the top. Two months ago I would have missed that opportunity. (AND not finished my three miles!)

Every time I see my wall, I beam- yes I've been smiling a lot lately! It reminds me of God's faithfulness in my life, and it reminds me of his faithfulness in the future. There's power in prayer and maybe you need a reminder of that. You may not have a blank wall you can fill but we all have something we see every day. Maybe it's your bathroom mirror. Maybe it's the mantel over your TV. This month I challenge you to find that one spot that can serve as your memorial, where you can place a "stone" that reminds you: God has helped me and he will continue to help me. God answers prayer!

“Pray without ceasing.” 1 Thessalonians 5:17

Adoption: The Gospel In My Living Room.

“Adoption is a beautiful picture of redemption. It is the Gospel in my living room.” 

Katie J. Davis, Kisses from Katie: A Story of Relentless Love and Redemption

For the first time in four months, as I sat on my friend’s couch, I let myself break down. The tears poured out as I told her I’d made the decision to move out and separate from my husband. I’d maintained a public presence of strength and faith throughout our whole ordeal but I now had to face a question I had never contemplated- what if God didn't restore my marriage?

I didn't know what that looked like. I grew up knowing that marriage was an earthly representation of Christ’s love for the church. I had always wanted my marriage to be a witness of that relationship. I thought surely God was putting me through this struggle as a way for me to better understand His love and use it for His glory. So many Sundays, I would cry during communion knowing how often I cheated on my relationship with God yet He still forgave me in spite of my infidelity. As I struggled to keep my marriage together, I prayed continually for the strength and humility to do just that for my husband. I thought, “God if you get us through this, we are going to have such a beautiful picture of your redemption!” I never thought, but what if You don’t?

Later that same day we met another friend for lunch and I raised that question. How will people see God’s grace and forgiveness and His redeeming plan in a divorce? That can’t be His plan. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. But they had faith I hadn't reached yet, that God’s plans are bigger than ours and He will do His work despite our sins and shortcomings. Divorce grieved Him as it did me, but it didn't mean He wouldn't use it that He couldn't show redemption in my life.

Over a year later, I still struggle when I hear references to our relationship with Christ looking like a marriage. I still believe that to be true with all my heart and am thankful for such a poetic image. But it’s a picture that has been tainted. Healing has happened but the scars are still tender, and right or wrong, it’s still an image I’m not ready to look at just yet. But what’s crazy is this past year it’s as if God knew I would need a different picture of His love to look to when my spirit was weak. My faith was still tattered enough that I needed to see His love in a physical manifestation so He provided that: He gave me adoption.

MoMo entered our lives March 2, 2012. I don’t think this timing was a coincidence. Only a week after this I would discover my husband’s secrets; my life as I knew it would change and my faith would be shaken. But God would take this little girl and show me His story is something bigger than any of us.

It didn't take long before I fell completely in love with MoMo. Her sass and energy are kindred to mine which I find thoroughly entertaining. We've bonded over our love of Disney and all things girly. It’s hard to think of what life was like before MoMo, as if she’s always belonged here. Her soon-to-be forever family has brought her into their lives, home and hearts 100 percent, as if she was their own. They've done much the same for me, allowing me to be a bigger part of MoMo’s life than I ever could have hoped for: taking her on Starbucks dates, tucking her in and saying prayer with her at night and trusting me with her care. I've gotten to watch her grow emotionally and spiritually as they shower her with love and acceptance and raise her up in God’s Word and church family. The love they have for her and she has for them has helped me grow emotionally and spiritually as well. This family has given me something tangible to look at here on earth of what God has done for each of us; they've shown me another picture of God’s redeeming love.

John 14:18 says, “No, I will not abandon you as orphans, I will come to you.”

Adoption requires a decision. God made a choice to come to us and bring us into His family.

“His unchanging plan has always been to adopt us into His own family by bringing us to Himself through Jesus Christ. And this gave Him great pleasure.” Ephesians 1:5

He brought us into His family through His Son. “God sent Him to buy freedom for us who were slaves to the law, so that He could adopt us as His very own children. And because we are His children, God has sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, prompting us to call out, “Abba, Father.” Galatians 4:5-6

This past month MoMo’s dad received a text from her that said: “You are the best dad I ever had.”

When I read that text and as I write it now, I still choke up. I’m not really sure how many fatherly figures have walked in and out of MoMo’s life. The instability and inconsistency she’s had to experience at such a young age is more than anyone should ever have to encounter. If she were to shut down emotionally and fight against the world around her, it would be understandable. But here she was less than two years after walking into the home of strangers calling out to her daddy, accepting His love and giving love in return.

MoMo has been surrounded with love and she has been cared for as one of their own, just as God has loved each of us and continued to care for us as one of His own. This family made a choice to bring her into their hearts and though they would probably never look at it like this, they've made sacrifices so that she could live where she is loved unconditionally and eternally. They have redeemed her life. They are showing God’s love to this little girl, to me and to so many others by choosing adoption.

God didn't stop with their story. He continued to remind me of His love through other families too. Of course there’s my brother and his wife as they prepare to adopt two more children this year, and in February 2013, two more friends would open their home and lives to a beautiful baby girl when she was just two days old. Once again, it’s hard to look back and remember life without her. I haven’t met a happier baby- so full of joy and smiles and blessing all of us with them. She now has a future of promise because she has two parents that love the Lord and love her and have chosen adoption. This family’s story is another one that radiates God’s love for us; His love for me.

That verse in Ephesians says that it was always His plan to adopt me and that He took great pleasure in doing so. It didn't matter that I screwed up and that I’m going to keep screwing up because when He adopted me, He chose me for forever and always. He said yes to loving me unconditionally and taking care of me no matter what. Before I knew my faith would falter, my Father did. And He went before me to lay out a plan to carry His child through to a faith stronger than before. He wrote a story greater than I ever could have created on my own. He gave me these beautiful kiddos to love on and this beautiful picture of adoption that shows me despite my failures His redeeming love remains. He remains. He’s the very best dad I've ever had.

See how very much our Father loves us, for He calls us His children, and that is what we are! 

1 John 3:1

Me and My Muppets

“I have a dream too, but it’s about singing and dancing and making people happy. It’s the kind of dream that gets better the more people you share it with. And I found a whole group of friends who have the same dream, and that makes us sort of like a family.” Kermit the Frog

In 1979, Kermit the Frog hopped away from the swamp he called home and headed to Hollywood with the dream of making millions of people happy.  As he treks across America, Kermit is joined in his quest by Fozzie, Gonzo, Miss Piggy and all the other Muppets we've come to know and love. Their shared dream of one day entertaining gave them an unbreakable bond of inspiration, joy and love; they became friends, and as Kermit said, sort of like a family.

Now my friends and I may not dream of singing and dancing, which believe me, everyone should be thankful for that fact!  But we do share a dream. We have this common goal of loving Christ and sharing Him with others. It really is the kind of dream that gets better the more people you share it with. We’re living out this journey of pursuing God, and along the way our paths have crossed and an unbreakable bond of inspiration, joy and love has stitched us together and made us family.

I was blessed to spend so much of this last week with my second family. After two months of mostly being on the road, gosh, I missed them! Hebrews 10:24-25 says, “And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the day drawing near.” That is exactly what this family does for me- they stir me to love and good works and they are constantly encouraging me.

Reflecting on 2013, I see how much we have honestly lived life together. It’s been so much more than sharing meals or going to church together (Acts 2:42).  We have been there to bear each others’ burdens (Galatians 6:2). We have lifted each other up in prayer; we have cried on each others’ shoulders and we have crashed on each others’ couches. We have celebrated each others’ victories together. Baptisms, additions to our families, even pointless, silly mirror ball trophies. We have pushed each other to step outside our comfort zones and grow in our faith, to use our gifts as we are called to do. I have been on the receiving end of all of this love countless times, and I have no idea why God has blessed me with such an incredible image of what His Church was meant to look like. Some of these friends are my Fozzies; we took the same fork in the road early on in the journey. Others are new additions, and though they hopped on our Electric Mayhem bus a little later down the road, they have contributed some great scenes, challenging me and encouraging me along our journey.

As I look forward to 2014, I am so excited for what God has in store for all of us. As for me, I’m looking forward to sharing our dream with more people. I want to grow our family and I’m so excited and encouraged knowing all of you do too. At the end of The Muppet Movie there are 250 Muppets in one shot… You know I love a challenge! Are you up for it??

Cheers to a new year and cheers to this family!

“I want them to be encouraged and knit together by strong ties of love. I want them to have complete confidence that they understand God’s mysterious plan, which is Christ himself.” Colossians 2:2

Wrestling with God

"In a controversy, the instant we feel anger we have already ceased striving for the truth and have begun striving for ourselves." Buddha

The first sentence of my first post of this blog was a quote by Brennan Manning: “In a futile attempt to erase our past, we deprive the community of our healing gift. If we conceal our wounds out of fear and shame, our inner darkness can neither be illuminated nor become a light for others.”

This blog was my challenge to myself to be open and honest about the struggles of grief and the struggles of choosing faith over fear. I chose the title “When Two Stories Collide” because my journey with Jesus has been more of a collision course than a Sunday drive. This past month was one of my head to head battles with him and honestly, I didn't want to share this part of my story. It makes me angry and frustrated and embarrassed, and it’s one of the whys God still hasn't answered in my life. I’m afraid to tell this part and in a way, I'm ashamed.

But my friend Kevin challenged me with this question this past week: “What if this season of your life has nothing to do with you but everything to do with the season in the kingdom?” He said I had to choose faith over fear and keep telling my story because this life isn't about him or me but about bringing glory to God and bringing people into His kingdom. So then I had to ask myself, “Do I want to be a part of what God is doing in His kingdom?” I do, but it’s hard; this part hurts. And that’s when I’m reminded of another Manning quote I used in my first post: “In Love’s service there are only wounded soldiers… Without your wounds, where would your power be?”

Paul said it even better:

"Each time he said, 'My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.' So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me." 2 Corinthians 12:9 (NLT)

In my weakness, He is strong. So my prayer as I write this is that somewhere in the kingdom, Christ will move in my weakness to bring power to the person who needs it.

Before I left for vacation, I found out I had HPV. Now people who are sexually active, and even some people in the health field, will read that statement and think, "Well, that's not really a big deal." For some, it's not. The truth is that HPV is the most common STI, and most people who become infected will never even know they have it. Others of us aren't so lucky. Some of us will hear "HPV" and the words "precancerous lesions" and "cervical cancer" will echo through the chambers of our mind. At this point, the writer in me would like to continue that sentence with: "and as the doctor spoke, anger echoed through my heart." But that would be a lie; "echo" would imply there was room for a reflection of sound waves but that wasn't the case because every inch of my heart was filled with anger, so much so that it was seeping out of every artery and vein. In simplest terms: I was pissed. In that moment, and many moments since, I looked back at my past year, all that I felt I'd overcome and moved past and the progress I felt I had made in my faith, and I was mad. I thought about how all I'd ever done was try to be the best wife I could be, how I had completely committed myself to my husband and loved him unconditionally, and honestly, all I could do as the doctor rambled on was curse my husband and curse God.

The battle began.

All of us deal with anger in different ways, including our anger with God. Some people wear a mask and pretend they are okay. They go about their spiritual routine of prayer and worship approaching God with the lie that they are "fine" and whatever they are dealing with is no big deal. Others might give God the cold shoulder. Instead of talking it out, they run the other way and want nothing to do with Him. In the world of fight versus flight though, I've never found my wings. I fall in the third category: I'm a fighter (just ask my siblings).

So this past month God and I have really gone at it. Or rather I've gone at Him and He's taken the punches. I told one of my friends, sometimes I wish there was a way to record my conversations with God- I think it'd make for really good tv. Lately, my nights with God have gone something like this: (Please note: I'm not watering this down. The following conversation will have strong language. I don't use these words in my conversations with the public, but I God knows my heart and I think the most real relationship we should have is with Him so I approach Him as the sinful person I am. I think I'd be doing a disservice to myself and God by not approaching Him with honesty and I'd be doing a disservice to you by being anything but real. There's the warning.)

Me: God I hate the psalms.
God: Why? They helped you through a lot this year.
Me: Maybe but I hate them.
God: Have you read them lately?
Me: I don't want to read them. They just piss me off.
God: Why?
Me: Because. It's not fair. David got to pray against his enemies and ask for retribution and justice. Somebody wronged him and all he had to do was ask you to strike them dead. But not me. I live in the stupid new covenant so I don't get to do that. Why do I have to forgive him and turn the other cheek? It's bullshit. The only cheek I want to turn is the other ass cheek for him to kiss. He's the freaking nightmare that just won't stay out of my life! I wish him and his stupid whores would all get cancer and die. He doesn't deserve my forgiveness. He won't even say "I'm sorry." Why can't he say he's sorry? I was a good wife who would do anything for him. I don't deserve all of this.

And right here is where the Holy Spirit always jumps in and convicts me: "For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23) and "You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.' But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, 'Raca,' is answerable to the court. And anyone who says, 'You fool!' will be in danger of the fire of hell." (Matthew 5:21-22)

Me: Grr.

Yes, I growl at God. The truth is all sin looks the same from heaven, and I deserve death for mine. God's grace covers ALL sin and I am NOT some special exception.

Now I'm not going to pretend I have answers to my anger; I think this is something I'm going to wrestle with for quite some time. I'm not sure what's right or what's wrong but I can say this: at least I'm wrestling over it with God and not without Him. I think it's okay that I'm struggling; I'm human. I think it's okay because I know that I serve a God that is full of grace. And it's because of that grace that I know I can't stay in this angry place.

This weekend I went to an advent concert and one of the singers shared part of the Christmas story in a way I'd never heard it before. He said on that night when Gabriel visited Mary that Gabriel presented the Gospel in its simplest form. He came to Mary and asked her what God asks all of us: he asked her to let Jesus live inside her, to carry Him with her and then give Him to the world. She said yes. And a long time ago, I said yes to that same thing, to let Jesus live inside of me, to carry Him with me and to share Him with the world. Unfortunately, there are parts of my past that will now always be a part of my future because of the consequences of my husband's sin. We live in an ugly, sinful world and that's a part of it. But I can't allow that to give me an ugly heart. There isn't room for both Jesus and the anger. I have to let one go.

Praise God that He is patient, because I know I won't get there overnight. But tonight I did make a step by opening up my Bible and reading some of the psalms. And I found several reasons to let go of the anger and hold on to Christ.

Psalm 103:10-13-- He has not dealt with us according to our sins. Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities, for as high as the heavens are above the earth so great is His lovingkindness toward those who fear Him. As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us. Just as a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him.

Psalm 119:71-- It is good for me that I was afflicted that I may learn thy statutes.

Psalm 147:3-- He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

Psalm 37:5-8-- Commit your way to the Lord. Trust also in Him, and He will do it. And He will bring forth your righteousness as the light and your judgment as the noonday. Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him. Do not fret because of him who prospers in his way, because of the man who carries out wicked schemes. Cease from anger and foresake wrath. Do not fret; it leads only to evildoing.

There's No Place Like Home

“There’s no place like home.” Dorothy, The Wizard of Oz

I’m learning one of the drawbacks of a blog is it only allows me to communicate in one form- the written word. I love writing (and the power of the backspace button) but for a, shall we say, bubbly and witty person like myself (hey- it sounds more flattering than LOUD and soaking in sarcasm),  it doesn't always allow me to fully communicate my message and leaves a lot of room for error in translation. I held out a long time on the shorthand hahas and lol’s of the texting world but finally succumbed to the pressure of social media after far too many times of having to say, “I’m sorry. I was joking.” There’s just something about the spoken word, the interaction between you and your audience; and for me, the inflection of my voice or a facial expression can be far more powerful than a backspace.

This month I was asked to speak briefly at a ladies night at my church. Unfortunately, due to a death in the family I was unable to follow through on the commitment but I wanted to share and expand on the message that God put on my heart for that night. Here’s where the benefits of a blog kick in: I say “expand” because I was given five minutes for the ladies night- we all know that amount of time is laughable when it comes to my storytelling! I love entertaining, helping people find the love of Christ through the joy of laughter. So today I’m going to write as if I was there tonight having a conversation with the ladies.  I want you to sit back, relax and read like you were listening to me speak! Grab a coffee, your Bible and a seat- like I said I’m loud so it’s okay if you sit in the back. There’s no escaping this.

I’m so glad to be here with all of you tonight! As I look out, I see several of you I know but there’s even more of you I don’t know so by putting to use the great critical skills my parents paid for me to get through five and a half years of college, I’m going to conclude you don’t know me either! So a short background…

I’m not from Quincy.

I KNOW… so hard to believe, right?? With that northern ohhh just ringing out above the crowd and the obnoxious nasally ahhh  you’ll catch more times than you care to hear tonight, I’m going to guess it’s a dead give-away to you that my roots are in the north. I’m originally from the great state of Michigan. My introduction wouldn't be complete without this so everybody hold up your right hand. Now take your left hand and point to the dead center. Alright you just squished my parents. It’s okay- they love Jesus and are far more forgiving than me, so welcome to the Koutz family.

Now I've lived in the Hannibal/Quincy area since 2005 after landing here for my second bachelor’s degree- hey at least I didn't waste their money right?? For eight years, this has been my home. I’ve been blessed with the most amazing friends and since you’re all here tonight I’m sure you agree, the most amazing church family.

I was asked to share with you tonight what Christmas means to me. Obviously, my answer has changed over the years. As a child, it meant new clothes- the obsession runs deep folks, what can I say? Paul had his thorn, I have mine. Don’t judge! But when Heather posed that question to me a couple weeks ago, there was one word that immediately came to my mind: home.

Now like we determined earlier, not all of you know me so a little more history. Seven of those eight years I spent making Quincy my home with my then husband. We got to grow up together, making our own traditions and enjoying a lot of great times. Obviously, since I said THEN, there were some hard times too.

We struggled with infertility for two years before finally conceiving our first child in 2011. I’m not sure the transition word to use here… I use to say unfortunately when I described this part of my life, but God has blessed me with a different perspective now, so basically I'll just say that at 12 weeks I ended up miscarrying. It was very hard for us and a very bitter time for me in my relationship with God, but God is also far more forgiving than me and blessed us again in February of 2012 with the news we were expecting a second time. The joy didn’t last long though. In March I would discover my husband was being unfaithful. I was devastated. In a flash, my home was crashing around me. Everything we relate with home- love, security, peace, was snatched away from me. Remember when you were a child, you’d have those moments when you got hurt at school or maybe you were at a friend’s house and you’d say, “I just want to go home.” I remember lying in my bed, rocking back and forth just sobbing and saying I just want to go home. But there I was in my own bed at home.

Now you guys wouldn't be the first people to tell me that I’m crazy, but do you ever have that feeling?? I mean, sometimes life just sucks. Work isn’t going the way you want it, bills aren't getting paid, and relationships are failing and deep inside your heart there’s this aching that pleads, “I just want to go home.” Gosh, I had that feeling more times this past year than I care to recall, but I know there’s a reason for it. I feel that longing because this place is not my home. It’s not my home and it’s not your home.

Hebrews 13:14 says, “For this world is not our home; we are looking forward to our city in heaven which is yet to come.”

There are several other verses in the Bible that talk about our heavenly home. Phil. 3:20-21 reminds us how our citizenship is in heaven and we eagerly await our new bodies Jesus will give us.

John 14:2 says, “In my Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you.”

Over the last eight years, Christmas has been the one consistent time I get to go home to Michigan. I look forward to it for months. My mom always does a great job of “preparing a place” for me. Now for me that means making sure we eat what I want and that there’s Vernors in the fridge.  But even bigger than the menu, is that I’m surrounded by love and laughter and a peace that you just can’t explain. I’m sure all of you understand that feeling. It’s that same feeling that our hearts ache for when the troubles of this world overtake us. When we can’t understand why the doctor gave us the news he did or why a friend betrayed us. It’s the comfort and joy we've tasted that makes us say, “I just want to go home.”

This place wasn't Jesus’ home either. That day centuries ago, in a stable filled with hay, Jesus gave up the same security and comfort we long for, that our hearts ache for, so that we could have it for eternity. He left his home and came to earth as a baby to give up his life so one day he could share that home with me. Can you even imagine the nights he'd be crying out, "I just want to go home." to his Father?

I long for the day I’m home. Where the loneliness is gone, my children are in my arms and I’m in my Heavenly Father’s. I'll be surrounded by my church family- friends from Michigan and Illinois and Missouri and wherever else I end up- all together at home.

I don’t know your story, what it is that makes your heart cry “I just want to go home.” But I do know it’s because of Jesus’ sacrifice that one day you can be there and He will wipe every tear from your eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain. All these things will be gone forever. (Revelation 21:4)  And you will be home.

"Instead, they were longing for a better country- a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them." 
Hebrews 11:16

A Prophet to the Nations

"Children are the living messages we send to a time we will not see." 

John W. Whitehead, founder of Rutherford Institute

I don’t remember a time I felt more joy than when I discovered I was pregnant. I’d gotten to a point in my life where I had seen the gifts God had given me and I could see how they could be used as a mother. It was a purpose I longed for, to care and love for a child, to selflessly serve that child with all that I had. After two years of trying, I had prayed and prayed for this child and finally in the summer of 2011, he was here. I couldn't wait for our first doctor's appointment.

I was 11 weeks along, and I remember not being able to sleep because I couldn't wait to see the heartbeat, to see him on the screen. That smile my husband loved was lighting up my face as the doctor started the ultrasound. She applied the jelly and began moving the wand across my already slightly showing belly. I watched the screen with anticipation, but the more she moved the wand, the more my smile began to fade and the more the sparkle left Ryan’s eyes. The room was so quiet and I knew it wasn't good. The doctor began speaking, explaining something about my body thinking it was still pregnant when I’d actually lost the pregnancy weeks earlier, something about the placenta continuing to grow though the baby’s heart had stopped. I remember her saying she hoped she was wrong and saying I’d have to have a more detailed ultrasound. I remember having to sit in the waiting room for what seemed like hours waiting to be seen by the technician, crying; it took all I had not to just fall to the ground and weep in the waiting room. We’d have to wait more as they read the results of the second ultrasound but we already knew. I wasn't going to have my baby; the only thing we could do was wait for the inevitable. A week later I would have to go to the emergency room, experiencing the worst pain of my life as I finally began miscarrying. The next day I would have surgery to remove what my body was too weak to pass.

In the days and weeks to come, so much of me felt like when they removed my baby they removed a part of my soul. I lived in this darkness and bitterness toward God for giving me hope after two years of trying only to rip it away. It was such a dark time for me. I was so sad and hurt and angry. I prayed so many years for my husband to grow closer to God. I prayed that God would bless my marriage. I prayed that He would give us a child. None of that was happening and I felt so alone.

Despite that darkness, despite the distance I felt from God and my husband, we would get pregnant again in February. I felt that joy all over again, but on March 10, 2012 my world would come crashing down around me. That day I found out that less than a month after my first miscarriage my husband entered a physical relationship with another woman and it had continued all the way to this point. I was devastated. I didn't know what to do and I just rocked back and forth in my bed sobbing. All I kept saying was, “how can I have this baby, how can I have my baby?” It felt like my world was crashing down on me. Do I stay in a marriage where my husband despises me and risk it happening again when there was now a child involved? Would our child end up feeling exactly how I felt in this moment, hated and betrayed? Or did I leave and face life as a single mom, again with my child feeling everything I was feeling in that moment, like he wasn't enough for his dad to stay?

I don’t remember that next week. No matter how much I rack my brain and try to work through what happened in the days to come, I don’t know. But on a Sunday later that month, Ryan and I had just finished talking about our plan moving forward. He wanted to make it work and we had just picked out baby furniture. I had gotten up from the couch where we had been sitting and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. All the joy I had felt just seconds earlier rushed out of me as I discovered I was spotting. My heart sank because I knew, I just knew; God wasn't going to let us keep this child either. 

We went to the doctor and we got to see her heart beat. There was this glimmer of hope but the heartbeat wasn't as strong as it should be and every week I would have to go back and every week her heart rate was slower. I remember sitting in my office at work praying, God please save her and just saying over and over again through tears, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Saying it to God and saying it to her. It was my fault we were in this place. It was my fault she was never going to get to live in this world. To this day I can’t even write these words without crying, without telling her all over again how sorry I am. I felt so selfish. I don’t know which miscarriage was worse, going in with the joy and expectation of meeting my first child only to find out he was already gone or the pain of knowing your child is dying inside of you and there’s nothing you can do but wait for her heart to beat its last beat. When that day came, the doctor gave me medicine to help with the miscarriage and once again I felt a part of my soul be taken away with my child. This wasn't my perfect plan.

But for the first time I started to realize, maybe it was His.

I wasn't going to be holding a child in my arms as I had planned, but for the first time in so long, I was letting my Father hold me. Every night I would read Psalm 119. I don’t know why that chapter, I don’t remember what took me there but I found comfort in it; I heard God’s voice in it. Every night I would pray for healing in whatever way God wanted to bring that to me. I started seeing Him in my life again; the miscarriages weren't God’s way of punishing me. It was grace. It was Him saying, “I see things you don’t. I know things that are to come and I’m going to save you and your children from so much pain.” If there’s one thing I've learned through this journey it is this: God’s promises are true. Psalm 119:28 says, “My soul weeps because of grief; Strengthen me according to Thy word.” I read and prayed that verse every night. I grabbed onto those words with every ounce of my being and as time passed God did just that. He strengthened me, and how? By His Word.

In the Old Testament, God brought His message to His children through prophets. God did the same for this child. He gave me two amazing prophets: my children. My first child brought me God’s message of hope. During those two years of trying so much pain came with every month, with every negative pregnancy test. God knew I needed hope and so He sent it. Unfortunately, I responded like a child with bitterness and anger when it was taken away. Just as He’d done for Israel so many times, God gave me another chance though. He sent me my second child. This time He gave me a message of mercy. He kept me and my child from experiencing a lifetime of heartache due to my husband’s choices. He showed me I was forgiven and gave me the opportunity to respond this time with thankfulness. My children brought me the message I needed most: a message of God’s grace.

Like Israel though, there are days I forget that message. I forget that gift He’s given me. Other days, I remember it, but I forget to share it. I don’t want to make the mistake I made after my first miscarriage; I never want to return to that ungratefulness.

This week I got a tattoo as a reminder of that grace and as a memorial to my children.

I’m so grateful for the time God gave me with my children and I know through me their message from God can live on. God knew my children before he formed them in the womb. He knew me before I was born. And He's appointed all of us to be His messengers. I’m so excited for the opportunities I will have to hear other women’s stories and struggles with miscarriage or infertility. I know that pain and I know there’s a purpose for it. It’s such a silent struggle and it doesn't have to be. I hope my tattoo, my story, helps another woman find her voice and her message from God, just as my children did for me. 

What's your story? What's God's message for you? Never forget your purpose as His prophet; share it.

Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. Before you were born, I set you apart. I appointed you as a prophet to the nations. Jeremiah 1:5