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God, is there any hope for us to change?

Tears escape my eyes while worship takes place all around me in the church building.  No one notices me down here on the floor, but God does.  Down on my knees, face towards the floor, I cry out to the Lord.  “Oh God, change me,” I pray with passion.  “Change me so that You can use me. ”

When I peer into my sinful, human heart, I see so many things that I wish weren’t there.  Anger over the actions of people.  Frustration when things don’t go my way.  Disappointment when my plans were stymied.  And it gets worse.  Round and round in my brain swirl hateful words that I long to say.  I want to reject those who reject me and I want to hurt those who have hurt me.  I demand justice for wrongs that I have suffered.

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5 priceless gifts that you can give to your Pastor’s Wife

You see her every Sunday.  She comes rushing in, perhaps a little late, and finds her seat near the front row of the church.  Her arms are weighed down with stuff: her purse, her Bible and perhaps a diaper bag.  She plops her belongings down on the floor and takes a seat, and looks around to smile at everyone.  You imagine how wonderful her life must be, to be the wife of the pastor.  You make eye contact with her, smile, and nod your head.

Then perhaps your mind wanders a bit. Why wasn’t she at the last women’s outreach?  Why is her kid running wild through the sanctuary?  Why didn’t she reply to your last email?  Isn’t her skirt a little too short for a Sunday morning?  Why did she have dinner in a pub and post the picture on Facebook?   It’s easy to find a lot of ways to tear her down.  She is a pastor’s wife, after all, and you hold her to a very high standard.

Friends, she’s a woman, just like you, with insecurities, worries, wounds and fears.  Like you, she has a dishes to wash, bills to pay, kids to shuttle, and calls to return.  She also carries the burden of the church along with her husband.  She often has dinner alone. This woman needs help and support, not judgment and isolation.  You can be the source of help and support.   Yes, you.

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God chooses and uses the weak, insecure, ill-equipped, and inadequate

I was minding my own business, sitting in my Bible study chair and reading through my journal.  God and I were talking about my leadership of my churches ladies’ ministry.  I fiercely love the women that I lead, but I struggle with the confrontation that is involved with leadership.  I’ve been growing as a leader in this area, but working through conflict is still extremely hard for my sensitive tender-hearted self.

I was reading back through my journal and seeing where God had sent people to encourage me in my leadership journey.  I was reading the kind and sweet things they had said when I suddenly burst out in tears.  A deep, agonizing prayer came from within me:  “GOD, I CAN’T DO THIS WITHOUT YOU.”

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My infant son was loved every day of his too short life

This is a guest post by someone who has  known me since I was 18 years old…Kimberly Potter, a friend from college and a CelebratingWeakness.com reader.  Her story is heart-wrenching but also full of hope.  It is a privilege to share Kimberly’s guest post with you today.

The journey for me to become pregnant was long, involved, and costly on many levels.  However, when my husband and I learned I was pregnant, it was all worth it.  While over the moon happy about finally becoming a mother, we went in for the 18 week ultrasound to learn we were expecting a son.  Only moments after seeing his little feet and hands for the first time and hearing his heartbeat, the doctor informed us it was highly likely our son would have a rare genetic disorder we had never heard of, tuberous sclerosis (TS).  TS can impact people differently, ranging from minor skin adhesions to significant developmental delays and seizures.

We prayed for our then unnamed son, prayed that he would not have the condition, prayed he would be spared, prayed he would be healed.  I believed God could do all of this. I also cried out to God.  Really?  After all of this?  Why?

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I’m sorry, God, but I don’t want my calling

We had done it!  My insides jiggled with joy as I sat and looked at the women who had gathered for the Beth Moore Simulcast.  They laughed, they cried, they hugged, they sighed.  The teaching gave each woman a huge dose of desperately needed hope.  I was so proud of the team of women who had come to together to make it happen.

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I was exhilarated but I was also exhausted.  I was the leader – the head honcho – the woman in charge.

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Are you a tree that will topple in the storm?

There is a major hurricane approaching the coast of North Carolina.  The latest models for Hurricane Matthew have it coming dangerously close to where I live in Wilmington, NC.  We’ve pulled out our hurricane preparedness lists and started to prepare.  My husband has gassed up the cars, filled some containers with water, and I, along with everyone else, have been to the grocery store.  We prepare while hoping and praying that it will not make landfall but instead will turn and go out to sea.

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My dream job is to be a full time mentor

I don’t have a job.  I left my full time job as a nuclear engineer almost 20 years ago.  At that time, I became a stay-at-home mom, and then, a homeschooling mom. Now that my last child has graduated from high school, I find that I am jobless.  There is no need in my family for a stay-at-home mom, because children are no longer at home.  There is no need for a homeschooling mom, because both my children have graduated from high school and are in college.

I find that this transition from stay-at-home, homeschooling mom to an jobless, empty nester is a challenge.  I’m not ready for it, but it is upon me, and I can’t run from it.  It has chased me down.  So I must accept it.  Help me Jesus.

I have been dreaming with God about what my dream job would be.  I don’t want to be an engineer again, ever.  Surprisingly, I don’t want to be a famous blogger and speak at TED Talks.  I don’t want to open a eclectic shop and sell my happy note cards and creative garden art.  When I did some soul searching and dug deep down, I discovered what I am truly passionate about doing. The answer surprised me.

What I really want to do is mentor.  Full time.

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Our story of Autism: Treat the symptoms. Love the child.

I spent hours on the computer searching for something, anything, that would undo our son’s autism.

We tried everything we could. We tried nutritional supplements, tried the newest and greatest therapies.  We looked for underlying health problems that could trigger autism.  And by the time he was five years old, I was exhausted, caught in a never-ending battle to find my little boy.

 

Our story of Autism: Treat the symptoms. Love the child.

A friend from church dropped by the house and gave me a sheet a paper with a verse from Hebrews 4:9 on it.

There remains therefore a rest for the people of God.

Oh how I longed for this rest!  I was caught up in a whirlwind of special diets, drawing blood, therapists, and doctors visits.  Could I trade it all for rest?  But what about my son?

God spoke to me clearly, an instruction that would guide the next fourteen years as we parented our child with a disability:

TREAT THE SYMPTOMS.  LOVE THE CHILD.

 

Our story of Autism: Treat the symptoms. Love the child.

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Can you “Choose Joy” in the midst of your suffering?

This is a guest post by my friend Dana Hott.  Dana has been a faithful Celebrating Weakness reader and we share many things in common.  I have been inspired by her decision to “Choose Joy” in the midst of challenging circumstances.  I know that her story will encourage you as well.  Lisa

Have you ever felt pushed to your limit?  For me, the last three years of my life have been difficult…probably the most challenging years I have ever faced. My trial began in March, 2013 when my father was diagnosed with lung cancer.  Eight months later my precious father-in-law lost his battle from bladder cancer. As if that weren’t enough trauma in my life, my brother-in law was diagnosed with cancer and only lived for five more months.  I hate cancer.

Choose Joy

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When you can’t be who people think you should be

One of my blog readers, who is also my neighbor, recently had back surgery.  The outpatient surgery was scheduled for a Friday afternoon.  The day before the surgery, I was texting with her to let her know that I was praying for her.  I thought it would be nice if I made her some chicken noodle soup for when she got home from her surgery.

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But there was a problem.  I had no celery.

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