Run The Race

20 years ago... I was living a nightmare.  At fourteen years old, I was in an extremely unhealthy and abusive relationship.  I had parents who desperately tried to protect me, yet I was so blinded and scared by this young man that I stayed engulfed in the lies and the chaos.  Fourteen years old - and pregnant. It was 20 years ago this week that I ended this child's life through abortion.  I hate saying it out loud, yet I have found healing in my honesty, and, of course, I have found connection with many other hurting women who have made the same choice at sometime in their lives. For many years after taking the life of this little one, I had dreams - and she was a girl in every single dream.  Through the years of my dreams, she grew just as she would have if she lived.  I so clearly remember a dream of her in first grade.  She had these crazy, messy pigtails, and she was getting in trouble for talking when she wasn't supposed to.  Oh, I long for those messy pigtails...

You are standing in front of a mine field.   The man standing next to you begins giving you instruction on how to cross the field, “what you have to do is take 3 steps forward, turn left.   Then take 9 steps…”   This is bothersome to you… “Why is this guy telling me what to do?   I can figure it out on my own,” you say.   He can clearly see that you are uncomfortable with his directions, so he interrupts your thoughts.  “I only give you direction because I want you to have life.”   You have no idea what he’s talking about.   He sees the confusion on your face, so he introduces himself.   “I am the keeper of this field.   Though I didn’t place the land mines out there, I watched as each one was placed.   I know every detail of this land, and I want to share with you the directions to make it to the other side.   Following my instructions may take you in a direction you did not anticipate, and it may be a longer journey than what you were hoping for, but you will get to expe

"If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in Heaven give what is good to those who ask Him?" Matthew 7:11   Holy Cow!  I can't even count the number of holy cow moments I've had over the last week or so.  There ave been so many things that just seemed in such complete disarray and out of my control.  For example, at Celebrate Recovery there are 16 volunteer  positions every Thursday night (sometimes more).  Of those 16 positions this week, 13 of these volunteers were unable to make it. Some of the volunteers knew a week or so in advance they couldn't be there, but most were last minute.  These 13 volunteers did not give up their post because they are schmucks - they all had extremely legitimate reasons to not fill their original obligation.  Ron and I did our best to get each of these "tasks" filled with new volunteers, but it seemed with every role that got refilled there was anoth

Most days I still recognize that we've experienced a lot of loss over the last year, but the grief is rarely overwhelming.  A sense of relief comes over me as I think that maybe we are moving out of our season of loss and grief. Over the last few weeks, though, a few things have happened that remind me of my vulnerability and the need to stay at the feet of my Heavenly Father.  My Dad was taken to the hospital by ambulance along with a string of serious health concerns, Reese has had the flu and pneumonia for 4 days, and the adoption laws changed significantly in the country in which we intend to adopt which gave me reason to believe that our adoption plans may change. What I am experiencing with these events isn't true loss but the anticipation of it.  I have cried out to God, "Please no!  No more loss.  I can't handle it." But with those words I wonder if I am being un-trusting in my Lord.  I want to be "willing" and "vulnerable", but I