The Words of My Mouth...

Tonight I laid wide awake in bed, beside my husband who was doing his best to sleep.   I tossed and turned.   I fidgeted.   I prayed.   But sleep would not come.   Finally, (because I knew he'd be getting up super early to go hunting), I crawled from our bed and went to the living room where I spent the next couple of hours reading facebook posts and looking at pinterest.   Still, my mind was on overload and sleep wouldn't come.  So, in my frustration, I began to do what I do...I talked to God.   "Why am I so anxious?"   "Why can't my mind just shut it down?"   "Aggggh!"   No response.   Wait...what is that faint sound...I can't quite make it out.   Is that you, God?   If so, you should speak up, because my mind is too loud and I can't hear you!!!

Suddenly, I got a mental image of God slowly placing His finger over His lips and saying calmly, "Shhhhhh!"   I had just been shhhhh'd by God.   Really!   Imagine that.  (If you know me, then you know how much I HATE being shhhhh'd!)  God wanted me to just hush!

Earlier this evening, a friend stopped by and visited with us.   We talked about some tough topics.  It's good to have friends that you can be completely transparent with...but understand, not everyone can handle your transparency.    Thankfully, this one can.   In the course of our conversation, God brought one of my favorite scriptures to mind, "Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart, be pleasing in Your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer."-Psalm 19:14

For the last few hours, my thoughts have been consumed by my words.     Are my words pleasing to my Lord?    The words I speak in conversations I have with my husband?    The words I use when I speak to my kids?   The words I speak in the grocery store, at church or in passing?   The words I speak in jest...or how about the words I speak in judgement?  Is God pleased with my words?   How about when I'm whining (yes, I admit that I do this on occasion)?    How about the words I write?  Do those bring a smile or a grimmace to God's face?  

You see, I cannot choose the circumstances I find myself in.    If I could, I would never be wronged again or hurt by another's actions or lack thereof.   It is not up to me if I face sickness or disease.  I would never lose another loved one to death.   I don't get to see what lies around the bend.   But guess what?   I can choose my words.

I may not be able to choose my emotions, but I can choose what will meditate on.   I can choose how I will respond...and whether or not it will please God.

Yes, I will face heartbreak.   I will face disappointment and perhaps I will experience betrayal and even outrage.   Those things I can't control.    Anger, sadness, disappointment, fear...all part of life...but those things do not define who I am.   How I respond to those things however, does speak volumes of the real me, but even more, it reflects on the God I serve.  

Because I trust Him completely, it is imperative to me that my words reflect His authority in my life.   I want my words to bring Him glory.   I want my words to direct attention to Him...not to me, or my cause, or my desires.   I want the things I think about and the things I spend time dwelling on, to be the goodness and faithfulness of God...not the disappointments of a fallen world that I live in.  

I believe tonight, I have a new glimpse of what David was thinking when he wrote these words.  If I were David, perhaps I would've written it like this.   Lord, let me keep my mind more on You than on this world around me.   Let my words reflect You...not the dispair and gloom I may find myself in.   Lord, don't let my words reflect my anger, my disgust or my opinion.   The world doesn't need that.   What the world needs is You!   So, Lord, when my eyes become distracted by the world around me, draw my attention back to You.   Remind me to think about You and Your goodness.   That alone will blot out everything surrounding me.   And then, when my mind is consumed by Your love, let me speak.   Let me speak the truth...in Your love.  Amen.

Tic-Toc!

It's been far too long since I've written.  Perhaps that is why sleep is evasive tonight.   Maybe it's God's way of bringing me back to the keyboard...to our quiet place...the place where He speaks to me things that I can only hear in the silence.   The song He sings to me set to the cadence of the ticking of the clock.

Where did the time go?  I blinked and a couple months whizzed by!   Yesterday, Mike and I celebrated our 2nd anniversary...how did that happen?   It feels like we just got married!   Yes, our life has been fast paced in the past year, with the campaign and all, but we are very cautious about cherishing every moment...so when I realized just how fast time was passing, it really has made me think about what I am doing with my moments.

In just over four months, Abbi will graduate from High School.   Just a couple of months later, she will go away to college.   And just like that the last of my baby birds will fly away...and the nest will be empty.   For those of you who know me, you know that I have always had a theory that the empty nest syndrome was pretty much a myth.   I know I will miss having her here, don't get me wrong.   I'll miss our giggles in the kitchen, reminding her to get her room "squared away", her technological help with devices I will never understand.   I'll miss our chats and coming to the conclusion that she really didn't want my advice as much as she just wanted someone to hear her out.   I know...I will miss it.

But I also know that in order for her to fulfill the calling on her life, she must fly away.   Keeping her in the nest will only cripple her ability to be who God created her to be.   So before 2017 comes to an end, I will gently nudge my baby bird from the nest and watch her begin to soar.  As tempting as it is, now is not the time to make the nest more comfortable...it is the time for me to do what mama birds do, and teach her how to use her wings.

Life is full of seasons.   Moments that run into hours, hours into days, days into weeks...months, years, seasons.   We must be cautious to appreciate every season and not spend our time rushing through to get to the next season of life.    Fully appreciating each season involves embracing the moment, understanding that in time, the next season will come.    It means not trying to hold off the next season, as well.   It is not within our power to slow time down, we must learn to be good time keepers.  Valuing every moment.

I really thought I had completely learned this lesson after losing Jeff.   I thought God had ingrained this important lesson in my brain through our struggle with cancer.   Yet tonight, I am realizing that this is a lesson He will continue to teach me for the rest of my days.   Learning to not get so caught up in planning for the next season, that I miss what is happening in this one.   One thing I have learned is that once a moment is gone, it is gone...it will only remain in our memory.

So tonight, less than a week into 2017, I am reaffirming my committment to live in the moment God has placed me in.   To live my life in a way that reflects His goodness to me.   I commit to love my husband and children fiercely, striving to put away distractions that would keep me from valuing the moments God has given us together.   It's not so much a New Year's resolution, as it is just an awakening to the fact that the clock is ticking.   Tic-toc, tic-toc, tic-toc.

I remember the words of a song by the Steve Miller Band..."time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping into the future".   Ecclesiastes 3 says it best...

1   There is a time for everything,
     and a season for every activity under the heavens:
2   a time to be born and a time to die,
     a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3   a time to kill and a time to heal,
     a time to tear down and a time to build,
4   a time to weep and a time to laugh,
     a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5   a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
     a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6   a time to search and a time to give up,
     a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7   a time to tear and a time to mend,
     a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8   a time to love and a time to hate,
     a time for war and a time for peace.

Lord, help me to cherish every moment.   The be present in the present.   To trust You with the future and every season.  And thank you tonight, for the song of the clock...tic-toc, tic-toc, tic-toc.

Engraved

Recently, I saw a post by a friend that referred to a tattoo that once was a sign of promise but now was just a big mistake.   I'm not sure if it was a name or a symbol, but whatever my friend had once had tattooed on her hand, she now covered up with a ring.   She no longer wanted it there.   What was once very dear, was now covered up, hidden so as not to remind her of what once was.  

My friend's post came back to me as I read my Bible this morning.  "Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne?   Though she may forget, I will not forget you!   See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands."   Isaiah 49:15, 16

I have another friend who struggles with self-worth.   Although this person is a Christian, they never feel like they are good enough to be loved by a righteous God.   Even though they've repented and have changed, in the back of their mind remains the thought that they have just done too many bad things and can never be completely forgiven.  It is a fear many of us face, that we are simply unloveable.

My late husband's mother was a very sweet mother-in-law.   She passed away just a few months before we learned of Jeff's cancer.   In her latter days, alzheimers ravished her mind in a way that was heartbreaking to all her loved her.   Jeff and his mom were very close.   For the first eight years of his life his dad was away in the military, so it was just Jeff and his mom.   They formed a bond that few could understand.

I will never forget the day that she forgot him.   It was perhaps the most broken I had seen him up to that point.   Shirley (Jeff's mom) had what the medical staff around her referred to as "Sundowners".   It is a form of Alzheimers that primarily affects a patient in the latter hours of the day.   The person may be cognizant in the morning, but by late afternoon, they can't remember people who are dearest to them.  

Because we lived hundreds of miles away, we were not aware how severe this condition could be.   We had heard from other family members how sad it was, but we really thought she would always remember Jeff.   That day we went to the nursing home around 10 in the morning.   We were visiting for the weekend and wanted to spend as much time as possible with her while we were there.    We walked in the room and she called each of us by name...Whew! She remembered us!   Perhaps family had misunderstood her symptoms after all.   She talked with us for the next several hours, dozing here and there.   She seemed tired but fine overall.

Then, around 3:30 in the afternoon, she looked over at Jeff and jumped.   Who was this strange man in her room?   It was heart breaking to watch as my mother-in-law, who I knew deeply loved her son, could not remember this child she gave birth to.   Thankfully, her lapse in memory only lasted until the next morning and she could remember him again.

So when I read this passage of scripture, I understand that yes, it is possible for a mother to forget her child that she loves.   I also know that it is possible to write something on your hand that you later regret.   But when I hear the term the writer uses here to describe the level of devotion God has to His children, I am in awe.    The scripture says, "See I have engraved you in the palm of my hand."

Engraved.   When I hear that term, I think "carved", so God has "carved" my name on His hands?   Yes, He did, and He did it with rusty nails!   You see, as He engraved my name on His hands, He was forgiving my sins.   It's a concept that is almost too large for my mind to comprehend.   But what I know beyond a shadow of a doubt is that Christ, who knew no sin, took my sin and forgave it and that as they nailed Him to a cross, my name (and yours) was engraved on His hands.   Unlike my friend, Christ doesn't regret this engraving...it was the purpose He came to Earth for.  

So the next time Satan tries to tell you that you've been too bad, that you are unlovable, or that you've been forgotten, you just remind him that you've been ENGRAVED on your Savior's hand!

The Thinking Chair

When my kids were little, they each had their favorite TV shows to watch.   Zac loved Barney, or "Narney" as he would call it.  Doran loved Blues Clues, and for Abbi it was "Do-a"...or Dora the Explorer.   Thankfully, there was enough space between the three of them that they didn't fight over what we had to watch.   Well at least most of the time.   This morning, I am sitting in my living room and all is quiet.   The TV is not on...there's no cheery music in the background, no silly questions...only quiet.   Though at times I miss the days when they were little and thought their dad and I could do no wrong, today, I am just enjoying the peacefulness of this quiet moment.

I remember when Doran was just 3, and he wanted to watch Blue Clues, he had to have his "Binkin' Chair".   It was a little red chair, made to look just like the Thinkin' Chair on the show...where Steve would "Sit down in his thinkin' chair, and think, think, thin-n-n-n-nk!"  (I love how all you moms just sang that little song!  You know you did!)    He would sit there for hours, if I'd let him, and watch Steve and Blue all day long.

Yesterday, I had an "AHA" moment, when I realized I needed a Thinkin' Chair quite desperately.  You see, I have spent precious hours in recent days trying to figure out how to make God's plan for my life (and my family's lives) happen.   My husband is running for a public office...I've spent hours alongside him, strategizing and planning.    My boys are both in college and trying to figure out how to pay for it.   I've spent hours researching funding options for higher education.   Abbi is a Senior and I don't have to explain the countless hours we have spent, looking at options for college and scholarship opportunities.   I 've planned out ways to make Zach & Rebecca's dream life happen (although, the last thing they need is me to get involved there!)   Mike's mom is now 88 and though her mind is very keen, her body is not.   I 've thought about all the possibilities of caring for her.   I've dreamed about ministry opportunities for me and writing a book and the list goes on.

I've read the drama that plays out on Facebook everyday and felt my blood pressure rise as I absorbed the non-sense.  I've worried over the Presidential election and direction our country is heading.   It seems that the more I think on these things the bleaker my world appears.

I never realized that the more I thought on those things, I didn't come up with a solution, only stress.   Oh, every now and then I would have a good idea, but it was short lived and soon the stress would return.   My joy plumeted as thoughts turned to the things I've mentioned.

But wait, I've prayed about all of these things (ok, maybe not Facebook) and I believe that in every situation, we are headed in the direction God has planned for us.   I believe He orders my steps, so why am I so restless?

Yesterday, it hit me...because I am thinking about the wrong things.   You see, as a follower of Christ, I have placed my future in  His hands.    So why did I buy into satan's trick that says I have to fill my mind with ways to make God's plan for my life happen?   I don't know why...but I did.

God's word tells us in Philippians 4:8 that "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things."   Does that mean I should sit back and just wait for God's plan to happen?   That I should just sit around and think about the good things and never deal with the issues at hand?

I don't think that is what the writer of this passage means at all.   I do think that God's intentions for me include me filling my mind with the things mentioned in this passage.   I think He wants me to spend a good portion of my time and energy, dwelling on things that are noble, pure and true.   As I do that, I believe He will be faithful and guide me as to how to navigate the issues I face on a day to day basis.  

It's easy to say I want to think on the good things, but when I spend more time on Facebook, than I do in God's word, I am just fooling myself to believe I have heard from Him.   I know this to be true because when I came to this realization yesterday, a thousand reasons why I SHOULDN'T take a break from Facebook came to mind.   The election is only days away (God is in control).  Most of my business comes through Facebook (but God is in control).  I don't watch TV so how will I know about the news (God is in control).    I might miss a birthday or an important event (God is in control).  And just like that, I had my answer.    Though my walk with Him was not in jeopardy, my peace was.   I needed to spend more time in the Word and more time thinking about the things He wants me to dwell on.

So although my "Thinkin' Chair" isn't red, and actually it isn't a chair at all, today I am installing a "Thinkin' Chair" in my life.   A place where I can spend a good portion of my time, thinking on the things God wants me to.   I will trust Him to order my steps and those of my family.    He has proven His faithfulness to me over and over and over again.   I have no doubt, He will remain faithful in all that concerns me.   So pardon me while I "sit down in my thinkin' chair and think, think, thin-n-n-n-nk!

A Tale of Two Husbands - Over the edge!

It used to scare me to death.   He would stand there, in front of hundreds of people, on the very edge of that stage.   Sometimes, more than half of his foot would just be hanging there.   I was certain he would someday fall off the stage and break a hip, or worse.   I would rant at him, saying things like "Why do you do such a stupid thing?" or "Do you know how dangerous that is?".   Calmly, but deliberately, he would answer me.   "I can't help it, Libby...I'm just passionate about what I'm preaching!"   And he was...I knew he was...still, his passion scared me to death.

This picture of my late husband, Jeff McFalls, is what I see in my mind every time I think of him preaching.   He was passionate and he preached with passion.   He was truthful and he spoke the truth.   The threat of repercussion couldn't sway him from telling the truth.   Even my consistent nagging couldn't sway him from what he was called to do.   He preached over the edge...not just his feet, but with everything he had.   I was afraid his passion would stir things up too much and I just wanted peace.   He reminded me that peace at all cost isn't really peace all...it's just passivity.  And passivity is a lie.  His passion intimidated me...but not only me.   I've learned that people find passion and truth intimidating.

I must be, however, attracted to what intimidates me!  It is no secret that my new husband is a passionate man.   He is perhaps the most honest man I've ever known...he won't lie, even when he knows the truth will cost him greatly.   I'm convinced he would rather die than lie.   If he even thinks he misrepresented the truth accidentally, he can't sleep until he makes it right.   What if we were all that way?   The world would be a much better place to be.  His passion has brought him trouble on more than one occasion, but without it, much of what has been accomplished in our community never would have happened.

As certain as I am that Jeff was created and called to be a pastor, I believe that Mike was created and called to be a public servant...serving the people as a leader in government.   His heart is to help people and make life better for them.   He sacrifices his own comfort, so that others can benefit.   He is not selfish, but doesn't want his generosity spotlighted.   That's because it is genuine...from the heart...not for show.

Both of my husbands have been thinkers.   I've watched them both deliberate on decisions,  making sure they have looked at it from every angle.   And then, once they've considered every side, they demonstrate courage and wisdom and make a decision.   No non committal responses or teetering forever, afraid to step over the edge.   No...a look at these two teaches us how to make a decision.

In just a few days, Mike's bid for election as a county commissioner will be upon us.   Voters will go and cast their votes.   Hopefully, the voters can see in him what I see and will elect him to serve our county.   Only God knows what the outcome of this election will be.   And only God knows how He wants to use Mike in the coming days.  We trust Him completely and submit fully to His will in our lives.

You see...Mike and Jeff weren't just passionate and truthful when things were going good...when all hell seemed to be unleashed upon them, I've watched them both stay true to their mission.    Their love of God and desire to be what He has called them to be is their driving force.

I find myself so thankful to have been able to share life with two men so full of passion and truth.    Truly, God has smiled upon me and given me favor.   Whenever I find myself wanting to shrink back and take the easy, less offensive, less decisive road, I think of these two Godly men that were placed in my life.   In that, I find courage to tackle the hard stuff...to step out over the edge and be everything God has called me to be.

We live in a time where political correctness has pervaded our society.   You can't speak truth for fear of offending someone.   And everything offends someone.   So we in turn choose not to speak at all.   God help us.   Let more of us find the courage to be like Jeff and Mike.   Let more of us become passionate and truthful.   Sensitive yes, but not to the point that we become dishonest to tickle the ears of those to whom we speak or quiet and non-decisive, paralyzed by fear of offending someone.

Lord, help me be what you have called me to be...help me have the courage to step over the edge!





SaveSave

The Blessing of Scallops!

It was a beautiful, sunny day.   July 29th, 2002.  Jeff and I had planned to go scalloping with friends from the church.   Neither of us had ever been, but we loved snorkeling and this sounded like loads of fun.   Off to the store I went in search of snacks and drinks for the boat.   Somewhere around the soda aisle of Winn Dixie, I felt a strange tickle in my throat.  I coughed in an effort to relieve the tickle but it only made it worse, one cough leading to another, and another, and another.   Hurriedly, I grabbed the closest case of soda I could find and headed out of the store.   Surely I must be allergic to something in the store.

By the time I reached the cashier, my lips were blue and people were looking at me like something was really wrong.   What was wrong with these people?   Hadn't they ever seen someone have a coughing fit before?   The cashier then said, "Ma'am, can I help you, do I need to call 911?"  Seriously!   It's just a tickle...I thought!

I hurried out of the store and headed to my home, just 2 miles down the road.   Praying, I asked God to stop the coughing...but it grew more violent by the moment.  About half way home, my prayer changed, asking God to just let me make it to the house before I died.   I could feel myself slipping...getting very dizzy and weak.

I pulled into the driveway haphazardly and stumbled from the car to the house.   As I opened the door, Jeff took one look at me and was instantly on his feet, catching me just as my legs gave way...but the violent coughing continued.  I was dying...I knew I was.  

Moments later paramedics arrived and started giving me care to open my airway.   I was loaded in an ambulance and spent the next several days in an ICU unit.   I was diagnosed with asthma and my doctors then explained to me how close I actually came to dying.  

So much for scalloping.   There would be no trip in my foreseeable future.  Our friends who were going to take us realized what the outcome would have been had the attack come just a couple hours later.  There was no way they would be taking me on a boat.  I didn't blame them.   Nope, it was not going to happen.

That was fourteen years ago.

For fourteen years I have not done the things I wanted to do because I have asthma.   Ir has robbed me of precious moments that I longed to spend with family and friends.

I'm happy to report that THAT has changed!   No more bondage to asthma.   Do I still have it?  Yes, and unless God divinely heals me, I will have it for the rest of my life.   But I don't have to let it control me.

God has blessed me with increasingly better health.   Last year, I mowed my grass for the first time in years...this year, I mow it once a week!   (Not sure about that part of the blessing!)   I can be outside in the heat of the day and do just fine!  But the icing on the cake came for me yesterday when I finally got to go on that scalloping trip.   Fourteen years later, but I went!   I swam the whole time and even dove for a few scallops...although, I learned I like bagging them and my husband is much faster than I am.   I will proudly wear the title, "Bag Lady"!   Each time I pulled one of those scallops from Mike's hand, it was like I was taking back what the devil stole from me, and just being able to snorkel and see all the sealife was amazing in itself.  

I know that for most people it would just be a scalloping trip...no big deal.   But for me, for me it was a victory.   Piece by piece, God is restoring my life.   He has blessed me beyond anything I could've dreamed of.    Far beyond anything I deserve.   Have I suffered loss?   You bet I have!   But God has comforted me and restored my life.    I will praise Him!  

Thank you, Lord, for scallops...and grass that grows too fast.   Thank you for restoring my health and my life.    I will not take it for granted and I will give You praise for every blessing.

The Weight of the Shepherd

By this time tomorrow evening, I will be an ordained minister in the Assemblies of God.   It is a moment I have dreamed about for years.   It was twenty years ago, this month,that I stood beside Jeff McFalls as he recieved his ordination in the Georgia District.  As my ordination draws near  I find my spirit burdened.   I'm excited, but the responsibility that comes with this ordination has been heavy on my mind as each day passes.

This past week, I found myself alone in the house, doing some editing and I ran across an old cd of one of Jeff's sermons.   It was titled, "A Calling and A Warning".   It grabbed my attention so I plugged it in.  Turns out it was one of his Wednesday night teachings.   Wednesdays were always a time of intimate teaching for him and what he shared on this particular night, though it was years before his death, hit me square between the eyes.

He spoke on Ezekiel 34...a passage that addresses those in ministry rather harshly.

1The word of the Lord came to me: 2“Son of man, prophesy against the shepherds of Israel; prophesy and say to them: ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Woe to you shepherds of Israel who only take care of yourselves! Should not shepherds take care of the flock? 3You eat the curds, clothe yourselves with the wool and slaughter the choice animals, but you do not take care of the flock. 4You have not strengthened the weak or healed the sick or bound up the injured. You have not brought back the strays or searched for the lost. You have ruled them harshly and brutally. 5So they were scattered because there was no shepherd, and when they were scattered they became food for all the wild animals. 6My sheep wandered over all the mountains and on every high hill. They were scattered over the whole earth, and no one searched or looked for them.

In this passage, the Lord is addressing those who He has called to take care of his flock.   He is quite upset with them because they are not doing what they have been called to do.  Reading this again, made me look at my calling and do a gut-check evaluation of what God has called me to do.   I received my calling at 15 years of age.   When I married Jeff and we entered full time ministry, I thought I had fulfilled that calling.   But when he died, it became clear to me that those 25 years were only part of the calling.  God had something entirely different for me.

I wish I could tell you that I knew exactly how that was going to look for me...I can't.  I am thankful to have a supportive husband and that he is open for whatever direction the Lord leads us.   All I can say at this point is that I never want God to have to address me the way He did these priests in Ezekiel 34.   

To my fellow ordination candidates, I would implore you to read this passage.  Being an ordained minister is a calling.   It does not elevate us in any way.   It doesn't give us special rights and privileges...if anything, it calls for more sacrifice on our part.  We are called to be ministers...pastors...shepherds.   This is the most important thing we can do in life.   It comes with great honor, but it also comes with great responsibility.   Do not take this mantle lightly.   It is holy, it is heavy...but I would not want to do anything else with my life.

On one of our mission trips to Ecuador, our friend, Bill McDonald took us on a trip high in the mountains.   Scattered around the mountainside were these little shanty-sheds, no bigger than a doghouse or a small pump house.   They were too far away from any homes to be pump houses and I didn't think a dog house in the middle of a steep field made much sense, so I asked Bill what they were.  He explained to me that they were shepherd huts.   That the shepherds would leave the comforts of home for days at a time and face the elements to protect the sheep.   They would rest or seek shelter in these little shacks, while their flock grazed along the mountainside.   That visual picture is the picture I get when I think about the level of dedication we are called to.   We are called to the uncomfortable.   We are called to sacrifice...sometimes to even be pulled away from the comforts of home while watch over those entrusted in our care.   We are called to be diligent and watchful...looking for things that may attempt to snare one of these precious lambs.  Shepherds smell like sheep.   The calling is great, but so is the reward.

Tomorrow night, as that mantle is placed on my shoulders, I believe I will feel the weight of it differently.   I wouldn't change a thing...I am humbled and honored to be called to be a minister.   Lord, use me as you choose.   When you choose.   And where you choose.   Help me to be faithful to always answer Your call with a "yes" and to remember that the calling of shepherd comes with much responsibility.   Here I am, Lord...send me.