Back in the early ’90s, I spent a summer doing missions work in south Texas. The sponsoring organization made a prayer calendar with our names & locations for church members to use as a reference while we were serving. I was spending the summer at the host pastor’s home, and one day, I received a letter in the mail with a $10 bill from a stranger — a woman who had been praying for me and felt compelled to write and send me some spending money. (I was thrilled, because I was Broke with a capital “B!”)

She lived in another part of the state, but we began a pen-pal friendship that summer, and she and I have corresponded over the years since. I went to visit her on a couple of occasions and saw her a few times a year when we lived in the Dallas area. We lovingly joke that we “adopted” each other. She has two grown daughters who are my mom’s age – neither of whom have children. Most of my grandparents died when I was young, so our relationship as “adopted” grandma & granddaughter blossomed.

Unfortunately, I lost touch with her a little over two years ago, and with all of the changes our family has undergone, I just let time get away from me. I felt compelled a couple of weeks ago to find her again, and I was pleased to track down her name to a retirement home not far from her old address. I sent her a letter and included pictures of the boys (she didn’t know about our expanded family, of course) and hoped that I would hear from her. (I tried not to think of the worst case scenario: that I had waited too long to get back in touch.)

How thrilled I was to receive a letter from her in the mail yesterday! It warmed my heart to hear from her and know that she’s doing as well as can be expected, at her advanced age. I’m thankful for this woman God placed in my life all those years ago and for the chance to reconnect with her. She’s a special lady.

A friend in ministry lost someone he was close to this week, someone he’d been praying over, someone he’d been hoping to have another chance to speak to about the good news. He is broken by what feels like unanswered prayers. My heart breaks for him in his grief and disappointment. I wrote him a note to share a personal story with him, not because I have answers – which I don’t – but in the hopes of encouraging him by helping him understand that he is not alone. I felt compelled to share the text here; perhaps some of you can relate. (Some of the words are truncated because he serves in a protected area.)

When I received word that my brother had been accidentally shot, I wept and pra’ed for the entire three hour drive to the hospital where he lived. I called out with every ounce of f’a’th in me for healing, and, not knowing the status of his wounds, for resurrection, if need be. I pra’ed in belief, in His name, that it would be answered, not wanting to believe the alternative. I claimed the promises of the Word in His name.

I learned about a half hour before we got there that he had, in fact, died. My spir’t sank, but I continued pra’ing specifically for resurrection in power and fa’th in His name.

To this day, I cannot understand completely why my pra’ers were not answered in the way I sought. I know where he stood in his own fa’ith, and that certainly gives me peace, but when I have rough days with the boys (five now, since I have custody of his two), my mind sometimes drifts back to that awful, dark night and I wonder WHY.

I wish I could encourage you more, because I’m not sure that sharing my experience is very encouraging at all, but I will say that He has used my story in ways that astound me. People I don’t even know know my story and have approached me out of the blue to tell me that they have pra’ed for us. Women I barely know have called me – ME! – “inspiring.” I’m dumbfounded, but I have to hold fast to the belief that even the dark days are part of this small puzzle piece that is my life … which is only one small piece of the grander puzzle.

Chin up when the days are dark. Don’t dwell on what you can’t change, but let it spur you on to take next steps.

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Please pray for my friend, C. It is difficult to be so far from “home” and in a valley, spiritually speaking. Pray for his ministry and his own faith-walk during this trying time. Thanks!

What an awesome message this morning on strongholds in our lives. I think that I have been pretty open about my weightloss journey these past several months and [I hope!] giving God credit where credit is due for the discipline to stick with my eating plan. Up till now, though, I’ve thought of it more as a series of choices and making better decisions about what goes into my body and my attitude about food, in general. It didn’t occur to me that food had been a stronghold in my life.

I realized today that through God’s help – because, let me assure you, it is not by my own willpower – the stronghold of food has been broken, and I’m living, healthy proof of it! I may not have struggled with tobacco, excessive alcohol, inordinate amounts of television viewing or any number of other “addictive” behaviors, but food had a heavy grip on my life. Food was a reward, something I felt that I owed myself … my excuse to say that I was thankful for my blessings but really using them as an excuse to overindulge.

I thought of it more as a self-discipline issue than a spiritual battle, but today I was reminded that God alone gives me the power to keep from falling. Whatever my reasons were in the past for going about my day-to-day eating habits under my own strength, I’m so grateful for the reminder that I’m not alone on this journey.

I’ve had so much on my mind, I may have to write a few posts tonight. First of all, I wanted to share – or at least try to explain – how the air smelled this morning after church. It smelled like China. You know how certain smells stick in your memory, then out of the blue – wham! – it hits you at some random moment in the future? That’s what happened today.

Our church is out in the country, with a corn field across the street, a cemetery behind the parking lot and a cow pasture on one side. It isn’t unusual to smell “country” smells from the pleasant flowering plants to the less-than-pleasant odor of manure. Today, however, was something that I couldn’t quite zero in on, but when I stepped outside the building after church, I instantly took a deep breath and then another – it smelled like I remember China smelling.

There was something distinctly agricultural – perhaps someone burning brush in the distance – and something else indistinguishable in the chilly breeze that brought me back to my fourth-floor efficiency apartment that overlooked a ravine on the outskirts of the Shandong Institute of Economics. I stood in the parking lot for a minute and just breathed, trying to remember what it was that smelled so familiar.

I never did put my finger on it, but I enjoyed the flash from the past and a moment to appreciate where I’ve been and where I am. All the time … God is good!

If you’ll allow me a moment to brag on my eldest kiddo, I wanted to share something awesome that he is doing. Our church has a mission/outreach project at a public housing community in town. This summer, all of the boys participated in games & crafts activities there almost every week, and now we are launching a tutoring program.

No. 1 found out about it and wanted to sign up to be a tutor. I was so proud of him, and I explained to him that this is *his* ministry; you don’t have to be a grown-up to be a minister (like Timothy in the New Testament). Anyway, he starts this evening; it’s just every-other Tuesday for the semester. Depending on the needs of the kids, he’ll read to/with the little ones or help with basic math skills, etc. (I’ll probably get roped into helping the older kids, so I ought to refresh my own skills, ha! High school was a lonnnng time ago.)

I’m hoping that this experience will also give him a greater appreciation for his own schoolwork. Intermediate school has been quite a transition for us; he’s having to take more responsibility for his work (and stuff!), but I’m confident that the glitches are working out over time.

I love Autumn so very much. It’s cool enough to enjoy being outdoors (this is Texas, after all, where summer lasts 9 months out of the year!), yet it’s not too cold. I took yesterday off from my jogging regimen but got up early today and jogged before breakfast/church. It was so lovely outside, and I really enjoyed the few minutes to myself!

Today has been a productive, albeit not particularly relaxing day. I got the laundry finished, school uniforms folded & sorted and two loaves’ worth of pb&j sandwiches made & put in the freezer. Dad and the boys worked on a winter vegetable garden and spent some time practicing soccer. We double-checked the calendar and made pick-up/drop-off arrangements for the week.

I have a lot on my mind & heart about the upcoming week – things to do, things to remember, decisions that need to be made and so on. My mind is also reeling because I received a very kind comment from a friend this evening, and I’m still absorbing it. On one hand, I feel like her gracious remarks were unwarranted, because half the time it seems like I’m flying by the seat of my pants, and she made it sound like I really have my act together, lol!

On the other hand, it was a stark reminder to me that we are always being watched. I don’t mean big brother kind of stalking; I mean that our lives set an example to other believers and non-believers about our faith-walk. I often tell the older boys, “Set a positive example, because you are setting an example one way or the other.” Today I was reminded that I need to heed the same advice.

Our pastors did a two-part sermon series on Letdowns recently. The first week focused on when others let us down, and the second week addressed the feeling of being let down by God. The crux of both weeks was that we should not be surprised when people let us down, because we are sinful human beings. People will let us down; how are we going to deal with that as believers? However, God will never let us down – even when we don’t particularly enjoy the journey or understand what he is up to.

Much of the emphasis centered on forgiveness – not holding grudges from letdowns in our past so that God can use us to reach the very people who let us down. Honestly, I’m struggling with some of that. When you can close the door on a chapter in your life, I think it’s easier to forgive. (Not forgive & forget, but forgive & move forward.) If someone hurt you and they are now in prison, for instance, perhaps you can find it in your heart to forgive them because they have been brought to justice. Put differently, if you release a grudge that you’ve held against someone who has since died, then it’s your own heart that benefits by letting go.

What I struggle with is forgiving someone who is still a part of my life (not by my choosing) and continues to be a source of frustration. I can almost hear the “70×7” verse in my head as I type this. But, how do you forgive someone who is not all together there in a chemically-balanced sort of way, someone who lives a destructive lifestyle, plays the perpetual victim and walks in lies about the past? How do you KEEP forgiving that person, over and over and over?

We are all sinners. I get that. I don’t deserve God’s grace, forgiveness or access to heaven. I get that, too. With all of that taken into consideration, when does forgiveness seep over into enabling? Perhaps enabling isn’t the right word … acceptance? approval? justification? The Bible talks a lot about forgiveness, but it also talks about accountability and responsibility for one’s own actions. It reminds me of the welfare-to-work verse, for example, or the many parables of Jesus giving a stern portrayal of the hypocritical religious leaders.

How do I forgive someone without giving the false impression that I approve of their actions or find no fault in them?