What If...

What if when you die, you find out believing Jesus Christ to be the Son of God wasn’t true?

What if in the end, you found out the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ wasn’t real?

What if those that profess the only way to eternal life with God is having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ—but in the end, eternal life just didn’t happen?

What if when you die, there was no heaven or hell and you simply cease to exist?

What if when you die, you find out none of what you heard about eternity with or without God is true?

But, what if it is?

I have put my faith in Christ and know for certain if I die today, I will spend eternity in the presence of God Almighty. I’m trusting that to be true.

 “Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.” John 17:3

“Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” John 14:6

Childhood Pranks and "Mrs. Kravitz"

Let me preface this story by admitting, as number five of six kids, we were hoodlums!

It’s true.

Imagine an over-the-top mischievous version of the neighborhood “Little Rascals”.

We Moore kids staked claimed on our North 8^th Street territory like nobody’s business. Ramping our bikes fearlessly over dirt-mounded curbs, decapitating the neighbors’ pretty flowers gardens and yelling “Red Rover” and “Ally, ally oxen (outs) in free” disturbingly loud--way past dark. You name it, we did it.

Oh my goodness…before I go on, a little grace here…okay?

One of our neighbors we loved to pester was the neighborhood “Mrs. Kravitz”, if you may. She was a bit skittish—an obviously easy prey.

It was late evening—pitch dark—but back in the day, that’s when kids played their hardest and best. My sister and I were still outside, not ready to give up our playtime. We glanced across the street and noticed “Mrs.Kravitz’s” kitchen light on. We could see through the open window that she was washing dishes at her sink.

Putting on our best hoodlumness, we quietly snuck over to her window, and on the count of “3” jumped up wildly yelling, “Aaaaaahhhhh-ga-boo-ga-la!” and then ran away as fast as our legs would allow. But before we got out of ear-shot, we were pleased to hear “Mrs. Kravitz” let out a blood-curdling scream.

Mission accomplished!

(Weren’t we were awful? Our parents moved us to the country when I was in 3^rd grade. In celebration, I think that was the day 8^th Street invented neighborhood block parties.)

Although, I still love a good prank now and then, I’d like to think I’ve matured a little over the years—especially spiritually.

James 1:4 says, “Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

To grow in the Lord, we must take the initial step toward maturity. Reading our Bibles, being faithful in prayer, maturing our walk with Christ…it all takes effort. But rest assured, perseverance is the key to completion.

Even in our childish ways, I’m so glad God doesn’t give up on us. Aren’t you?

So persevere on, my friends—and thank goodness, God isn’t finished with us yet!

Oreos and Fruit

When I was younger, I remember my oldest brother, Steve, had an obsession for Oreo cookies.

And my second oldest brother, Jeff, had an obsession for anything that wasn’t his.

One evening, my mom drove to pick up my brother, Steve, from his summer job. He had left a package of Oreos in the car and was anticipating eating them after work.

Jeff was along for the ride, sitting quietly in the back seat. When Steve got in the car he said, “Jeff, hand me my Oreos.”

Silence.

Steve turned around to see Jeff’s face smeared with a dark gooey substance.

“Where are my Oreos?” Steve asked accusingly.

“I don’t know.” Jeff replied, with a sheepish chocolate grin and empty cookie package crumbled in his lap.

Steve was livid. I don’t quite remember what happened after that—maybe a little bloodshed or rubbing of knuckles—those things that brothers do.

Do you ever totally blow it in life and hear God ask, “Where are my fruits?”

Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

Do you sit in a stupor with the evidence plainly smeared from your actions and sheepishly answer, “I don’t know.”

I’m sure I have. But the great thing is, God forgives a repentant heart and will continually fill it with His fruit for us to share with others.

So when God asks, “Where are my fruits?” let us be quick to respond, “I want to experience You, Lord. Give me opportunities so Your harvest will be revealed.”

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.”
–Galatians 5:22-23

Washing Windows

When I was about nine or ten, my mom and dad purchased a service station. "Moore's Apco" was located at a prime spot on Summit Street and was considered a “full-service” station. A quick check under the hood and a clean windshield was expected while customers waited to get their gas tanks filled.

One lazy summer, I begged my mom to let me “help out” by washing the customers’ car windows. I was thrilled when she finally agreed—eager to prove my excellent window-washing skills and earn a few extra dollars.

The day finally came—I  was excited and ready. I had slipped on my most comfy tennis shoes, pulled my long hair back in a ponytail and practiced my winning smile. I was determined to be the best windshield washer in town!

It wasn’t long when my first customer, an older gentleman, drove in the bay.

This was going to be a piece of cake! I thought to myself.

I eagerly rushed out the door and was at the side of his car like a seasoned pro. After greeting him with a polite “Good morning!”, I began cleaning the driver’s side windshield with precision while taking care to periodically flash my winning smile.

Satisfied, I moved to the passenger side and began again.

As I stretched on my tip-toes to clean the windshield, the car’s antenna somehow slipped through the backside of my ponytail, firmly holding me hostage. My soapy hands instantly flew wildly at my captive head, tugging forcefully to free myself.

After a few agonizing moments, I paused and sighed. I was a helpless immobilized window washer impaled by a measly car antenna.

My eyes slowly peered into the vehicle hoping the older gentleman hadn’t noticed my awkward predicament.

He had.

A smile spread to the man’s face as he exited his car and rushed to my rescue. He gently maneuvered my soapy pony tail mess over the antenna, freeing me from my restraint. I was mortified—but grateful for the release.

That was the first and last day of my windshield washing job. I vowed never again to beg my mom into washing windows.

Sometimes in life, we have the best intentions in doing good, but in our own strength we fail miserably. Without the help of Someone greater, we can end up like an impaled puppet, wildly flapping our arms and getting nowhere fast. We look helpless, awkward and can even become immobilized.

But if we stop and look to our heavenly Father, He waits with delight to gently rescue us from our restraints. He is our Rescue and ever-present Help.

“Because he loves me,” says the LORD, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.” –Psalm 91:14

Stupid Head

Several years ago, my family and I were eating at a local restaurant. All I wanted was a salad. I’d been thinking about it all day…already had it planned in my head…and could almost taste each bite just thinking about it. (Please tell me I’m not the only one who does this.)

I grazed through the salad bar, strategically placing the lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, cheese…and so on…you get the picture—until I had the “perfect salad.”

It was beautiful.

As I sat down at the table, I placed my napkin in my lap and grabbed my fork, ready to begin the feast. The rest of my family had ordered their food and began to eat, as well.

My daughter, Lindsay, who sat across from me, picked up her fork and noticed a small patch of dried food on the handle.

“Gross!” she muttered. “There’s food on my fork!”

“Oh, wipe if off.” I said. “It’s just on the handle.” (Please tell me I’m not the only one who does this.)

She began to pick at it with her fingernail.

Just as I was about to take a bite of my beautiful masterpiece, I looked up to see Lindsay flick the bit of dried food from her fork. As if in slow motion, it propelled to the wall and ricocheted—you guessed it— smack dab in the middle of my salad!

I couldn’t believe what had just happened. My salad…my beautiful, masterpiece salad…ruined! And I hadn’t even gotten to taste it yet!

As I sat in disbelief looking at my tarnished mound of happy, my eyes began to squint and jaw tighten. Before I could even think clearly, my squinted eyes veered across the table at my daughter and I spewed the words, “You Stupid Head!”

Now, let me take a moment and say that I don’t ever recall calling my kids names, and I have never in my life even said the word “Stupid Head”—ever. I have no idea where it came from. I couldn’t help it…it just flew subconsciously out of my mouth. Lindsay said fire shot out of my eyes, too, but I think she’s embellishing just a little.

What happened in the next few moments was priceless.

Wide-eyed, Lindsay looked at her brother, Mathew—then back at me—then at her dad. And as if planned, the three of them harmoniously burst into a guffaw of laughter. And then I whole-heartedly joined them.

It was beautiful.

Being called “Stupid Head” is now considered a term of endearment in our family.

This should be my life’s motto:

Then our mouth was filled with laughter and our tongue with joyful shouting; Then they said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.” Psalm 126:2

God really does do great things for us. Just the fact that He created laughter is soothing to the soul.

Enjoy each moment—and laugh—the rest of your life.

The White Cloud

My high school set of wheels was a 1960 white Ford Falcon. Driving it was a trip! It had a couple of highly noticeable fender dents, bright blue polyester seat covers to hide the worn interior, and when I would turn the steering wheel to the right, the horn would automatically honk. (I got really good at waving.) But I didn’t care—the “White Cloud” was mine and it got me where I needed to go…well, mostly.

One of the things I had to be careful of was the gas tank. The gauge didn’t work. But back in the 70s, with the price of gas at $0.57 a gallon, it didn’t take much to keep it full.

One winter evening my brother, Jeff, borrowed my car to do whatever ornery teenage brothers do. He must’ve driven it all night, because he left the gas tank practically dry. But do you think he had the sense to tell me? Not hardly.

The next day I had to perform with a singing group I was involved with at school. It was an evening performance and I was decked out in my formal wear with high heels. After singing I headed toward home—about 2 miles west of town—and just as I passed the Arkansas bridge, the White Cloud chug-a-chugged its last gas fume and slowly coasted to the side of the road.

My heart sank. It was cold, dark, miles from home and I was dressed in a silk dress with open-toe heels. Ugh!

My brother knew I had always kept careful watch on my gas tank, and he was just ornery enough to put me in this predicament on purpose. The thought of Jeff snickering at my situation made me even angrier as I trudged home in the dark. Thankfully, I made it home just fine.

When I am in God’s word, praying and filling my spiritual tank, my level of trust, faith and walk with Christ is steady. But if I’m not careful and miss a few days of fellowship with God, I tend to lose momentum, sputter along and eventually coast into the world.

Proverbs 4:26 says, “Give careful thought to the paths for your feet and be steadfast in all your ways.”

Let these words encourage you to be in daily fellowship with God. Keep careful watch on your spiritual tank and you’ll never find yourself sputtering or coasting to the side of the road—but instead, walking in a strong, steadfast relationship with our Lord.

The Segway

Several years ago, I went to Branson with some girlfriends. While there, we had the bright idea to ride Segways. If you don’t know what a Segway is, picture standing on a skateboard with big bike-like handles that you hold on to. It actually sounded like loads of fun, so naturally I was game.

The Segway instructors were patient and very professional, training us how to use the vehicle properly. Before being released at top speed, you had to pass an “operational test” at a slower speed. After passing the test, you were given free reign of the track.

The key to power was leaning forward with your body into the bars—standing straight up would slow you down. After about 10-15 minutes of tootling around the track, I thought I had it mastered—piece of cake—and was released from my training session.

Several of us girls wheeled around the curves as if we were power-shopping on Black Friday. It was great fun. We laughed and giggled at how silly we looked until our faces hurt. Then all too soon, our time was up and the instructors motioned us into the pit stop.I wanted to take one last spin on my power board, so I maneuvered myself quickly around the curves before coasting into the pit.

As I slowed to stop, I stepped off the board. My body accidently leaned forward which caused my Segway to leap forward…with me still holding on. I began to spin in circles as I held on tightly to the handlebars. All the tootle training I’d mastered earlier instantly vanished. As I made circle donuts aside my runaway Segway, I could see my girlfriends out of the corner of my eye laughing hysterically. They were all shouting, “Just let go! Let go!” All I could think of was, they’re all laughing, and I’m gonna die!

Somehow I managed to maneuver my body upright enough for the contraption to come to a halt. The instructors rushed to my side and quickly took possession of the beast—rescuing me from my awkward display of spinning aerobics—and what dignity, if any, I had left. Afterwards, I realized how silly I must’ve looked and joined in the laughter.

Sometimes we go through life and want to hold on to things that aren’t necessarily good for us. We hear the words, “Just let go!” It sounds easy enough—but instead we tighten our grip, lose focus of the instructions, causing us to spin in frustrating circles.

But be encouraged!

Psalm 48:14 says: “For this God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end.”

Even when our lives get crazy and spin awkwardly in circles, He is always there, ready to guide us to safety. Trust, obey, lean into God—and let go!

The Burrito

I have been on a homemade Chipotle burrito kick lately...and it prompted me to write about one of my favorite teenage memories. I hope you enjoy!

It was back in the 70s and life was good. My best friend, Mary and I were joined at the hip. We did almost everything together. We sunbathed on rooftops, sang together in school and church, and shared our lunch hour most every school day.

One particular day, we decided to walk to one of the neighboring grade schools to eat. In those days, we had an open lunch hour—no cafeteria—so if you didn’t bring a lunch, you ate wherever your dollar bill would take you.

After walking several blocks to the school, we quickly went through the food line, found a couple of seats across from each other and plopped down with our food trays. The menu for the day was tasty burritos.

As we began to eat, we giggled and chatted in between bites about our cute hair and upcoming weekend plans—not paying much attention to anyone around us.

Not long after we had seated, a distinguished business man in a suit and tie sat down beside my friend. He offered no smiles or acknowledgements as he joined our table, and quietly began to consume his tasty burrito. At first we thought it a little La-T-Da! We exchanged mirrored smirks, but eventually shrugged off his disinterest and returned to our burritos and giggly-girl conversation.

Mary picked up her fork and proceeded to cut into the last half of her burrito. As soon as she took a stab at the little rascal, the burrito instantly jetted from her fork tines, soared with airborne momentum into a perfect sequence of rotation flips, landing effortlessly below her.

In disbelief of what had happened, Mary did a double-take—looking down to her side and then back across the table at me. Her eyes were wide as her hand nonchalantly cupped the side of her face. She leaned toward me and mouthed, My burrito landed on his leg!

I stifled a gasp and my eyes slowly glanced across the table at the man in the suit. He had finished his lunch and was now sitting comfortably reading a newspaper. The soaring burrito had not fazed him.

Mary frantically found my eyes once again and mouthed, What should I do? I mouthed back, Go get it! From her facial expression, it was obvious that was not the answer she wanted to hear.

As my friend’s hand slowly went to her side and reached toward the burrito, her head remained facing me; only her eyes followed her slight hand movement. I watched the man in the suit cautiously for any abrupt reaction. After a few long and agonizing seconds, Mary’s hand surfaced to the table. The burrito was wrapped safely in a napkin and the man in the suit miraculously hadn’t budged an inch. Success!

Mary and I couldn’t get out of the cafeteria fast enough. As soon as we hit the pavement we exploded with laughter—our giggles carrying us all the way back to school.

To this day, the burrito story is one of my favorite memories with my friend.

Proverbs 31:25 says: “She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.”

Life can be exhausting, but sometimes all it takes is a bit of laughter to lighten the load and refresh your weary day. And I believe God enjoys hearing His adored people let out a good belly laugh now and then. Even if it’s from the tip of a fork tine!

So go ahead…laugh. It may be provide the strength needed to carry you along your own personal journey.

Picture Barbies

Growing up, my childhood was fairly simple and carefree. As in most families, we had the basics of life: clothing, food, shelter…pretty much the necessities. But there was one thing my sister and I longed for early in our childhood that wasn’t on the “necessity” list.

Barbies. Yes, good old-fashioned Barbie dolls.

So not to be disappointed, my sister, Annette and I used our creativity by doing what we thought most 6 and 8 year olds would do. We used our older sister, Becci’s, friends’ school pictures as our “Barbie” dolls. Besides, what else were those little 3x4 black and whites good for, right?

Becci had loads of beautiful girlfriends, so we always had our choice of fashionable pretend Barbies. But in the male “Ken” department…the 3x4 pick of what we called handsome was desperately lacking. There was one picture in particular that was awkwardly squirrelly. And being the youngest, I always ended up with Mr. Squirrely as my “Ken” doll. But all-in-all, it was great fun.

Well, time passed, and it wasn’t long before Mom purchased us “real” Barbies. My sister and I were so excited. Even though we enjoyed our pretend dolls, we didn’t hesitate tossing the 3x4s to the side for the real thing. Especially Mr. Squirrely, in exchange for a handsome Ken doll!

Have you ever pretended, like me, about something you wanted differently in your life? I would imagine most of us have at one time or another.

But the great thing is, we have a God who loves us and desires to give us THE real thing—peace, compassion, joy…and so much more. He always has something better.

So whether it be a 3x4 picture Barbie—even a Mr. Squirrely—let me assure you, nothing can take the place of the Real Thing. And it begins with a relationship with Him.

Cooking 101 With Denise

I had no clue how to cook a meal until after I got married. And even then, there was a lot of trial and error. Good old macaroni and cheese was a common staple in my kitchen, and more times than not, it became the quick substitute from an epic fail meal.

But, there was one meal I learned to cook from a friend of mine while in junior high school. I don’t even know the name of it—it was some kind of magnificent tuna stuff. I was just in awe of how my friend seemed to throw it together effortlessly.

Denise had invited me home with her after school one afternoon. She only lived a few blocks from the junior high and I was delighted to be her guest that day. After arriving, we did what most teenage girls did: listened to music in her room, shared stories of what boys we thought were most cute and discussed what we’d be wearing to school the next day.

Soon after, Denise announced that her mom was working late and she needed to start dinner for the family. I’m sure the surprised look on my face humored her. I’d never heard of such a thing. She was going to cook dinner for the family? After all, we were just junior high kids. Wasn’t that what moms did?

Curious as to what was involved in this “making of dinner” thing, I followed her into the kitchen. Like a seasoned pro, Denise flitted around the room, pulling pans and kitchen gadgets from the cabinets. She even grabbed ingredients from the refrigerator I’d never even heard of. I stood in a stupor of pure amazement as she chopped, tossed and created this incredible meal, seemingly with ease. She even let me sneak a taste during the process. It was delicious!

After my friend was finished, I said, “That thing…what you just did. Would you run that past me again? I want to take notes.” I think she giggled—or shook her head in disbelief—or both. But bless her heart, Denise took the time to slowly explain step-by-step instructions for her goofy cooking-novice friend. To this day, I still remember how, and continue to make the incredible “Tuna Stuff”. Thank you, Denise.

Wouldn’t it be great if when God did something fabulous in our lives, we would stop and say, “That thing…what You just did. Would You run that past me again? I want to take notes.” And then thank Him for it?

I think God would be delighted to have us respond that way, don’t you?

A New Path

I kind of thought I was done blogging for awhile. In each journal entry during my cancer treatment and healing period, I poured out an extremely personal season of my life. And in doing so, it left my “testimony tank” feeling empty and dry. I didn’t know what to do next, so I waited and prayed.

During this dry period, I was involved in a Bible study called Experiencing God – Knowing and Doing the Will of God. I had actually gone through the study at least 2 other times in the past, but for some reason, it really clicked with me this time. In the 12-week study, I learned to wait on God, hear His voice and be quick to obey. The study also emphasized that God speaks through prayer, Bible study, circumstances and the church (body).

Soon after I began the study, I received an email from a friend asking why I had stopped blogging. I explained I wasn't sure what I was supposed to write about and was waiting on God for direction. I didn't want to blog just to blog. I shared with her that God had given me a specific purpose in the beginning of my journey and I had been praying for that same inspiration and direction again. My friend encouraged me to keep writing, as reading my weekly posts had given her strength through some tough times in her own life. I was humbled to think that something 'plain ol me' had written could make a difference in someone's life.

A week or so later, another friend wrote and asked if she could share some of my written testimony in her ladies' church gathering. She also encouraged me by saying my words were an inspiration to her and added, please continue to write! The ladies she shared my testimony with were stirred and asked for my blog address—eager to read some of my previous posts. Once again, humbleness embraced me, and I thought, Okay God, what are you doing here?

Both of my friends had no idea how their kind words were an answer to my prayer. God was speaking through them and I was learning to listen.

So I guess I write all of this to say, I prayed, I waited, I listened and God spoke. He has given me direction once again, and it feels good. 

Thank you, not only to those mentioned above, but to others who have encouraged me to continue on with this blog. Although my life is moving forward on a new path of trusting Him, God's purpose is the same.

It's still all about the relationship.

He Answered

If you’re on Facebook or received my personal email message, you have read of my health update this past week. If not, word on the street is…my PET scan was clear!  The doctors have declared that the cancer is in remission. I am claiming God’s healing grace and offering Him my humble and thankful praise.

The next step is to continue appointments every two months with my ENT along with a six month check-up with the oncologist.

God is incredibly good—isn’t He?

On another note, I would appreciate your prayers for a dear friend of mine as she continues her journey in battling the ugly cancer beast. She is traveling to Kansas City this Monday to consult with doctors regarding a new cancer treatment program. Please join me in praying God’s sovereign hand in her situation as they meet with the specialists on Tuesday.

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.” Ephesians 3:20

Thank you, praying friends.

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When I ended my chemotherapy and radiation treatments last November, I wondered, What’s next, God? Since then, with thanksgiving and awe of His grace toward me, I began to pray, “Lord, thank you for carrying me through the most difficult journey I have ever experienced. When I wanted to give up—in every instance, Your mercy was greater. Every single time. So God, I surrender. Whatever You want from me, I’ll do.”

Each time I prayed that prayer, I meant it. And you know what God did? He answered.

Several weeks ago, I was asked to pray about sharing a small portion of my testimony in church. I've mentioned in previous posts of how speaking in front of crowds was definitely out of my comfort zone. But as I remembered my prayer of submission, I realized, this was one of the What’s next, God? opportunities. So last Sunday, I did it—I shared. Even though speaking in front of a large crowd was a little daunting, I realized once again, this wasn’t about me. It was an opportunity to share about a relationship—a God relationship.

Oh my. God is teaching me so much during this crazy journey of mine. And for some reason, that only my heavenly Father knows, I’m still here. But one thing is for certain, through every trial and victory I continue to experience God more and more.

Because you see, it’s all about the relationship.

My Conversation With God

The following is a conversation I had with God this past weekend. At first, I hesitated sharing it publically because it was so personal to me. But I believe there is someone reading this right now that needs to know how important a trusting relationship with God is. When He speaks, we need to listen. And when He is silent, we only need to trust.

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I went to bed Friday night around 10:30 pm. My body was tired, but my mind wouldn’t allow sleep to come. As I lay in bed, I began to mentally converse with God.

You know, God, I enjoy so much of what You continually bless me with.

My two spunky grand-boys keep me smiling. I love watching them play, listening to their rough-house giggles as they wrestle with their Gpa, and mostly, hearing them say “I love you, Gma.”

My entire family is an incredible bundle of joy. We express love for each other easily and they bless my heart in each of their quirky ways.

And my church family surpasses all others, in my books, not to mention the wonderful friends You’ve placed in my life.

So, if You don’t mind, I’d like to be around to enjoy all of these blessings a while longer. I guess, what I’m saying is…I just want to live.

And God said, The world you live in is broken. Living here on earth will bring more heartache, pain and suffering.

I know. I said.

God continued, Life in heaven is an eternity full of joy…it is the definition of perfect.

Yes, I know. I replied.

And then there was silence.

I struggled to hear that still, gentle voice again while tossing and turning in bed, but the only sound breaking the silence was the soft snore of my husband beside me.

Several minutes passed in the quiet night.

And then I prayed, Father, even if the cancer returns, no matter what, I will always praise You.

Then sleep finally came…with peace. Yes, sweet peace.

Thank You, God

Medical update:

This week ushers in “the biggie”…aka the PET scan. After several months of successful healing from chemo and radiation treatments, the scheduled scan will determine if there is any cancer activity remaining in my body. So, my fellow warriors, I’d appreciate your prayers this Wednesday as I travel to Wichita for the 2–3 hour procedure. Results will be discussed during my follow-up appointment the week after. As always, I am amazed at God's hovering grace and peace…and of course the continued support from my wonderful prayer partners. Thank you, once again.

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As I sat in my living room typing this today, my eyes drifted over my laptop screen, gazing through the french doors into my backyard. I began to stare at our wooden deck where glistening ice had formed, along with a few spots of dusted snow that had clung to the ice, seemingly hiding from the swirly wind. The day proved bitterly cold.

But in that moment of gazing at the taunts of winter, I found myself thanking God.

Thank You, God, for the seasons You provide. Each transitions beautifully in Your perfect timing. As I tire of winter and wait anxiously for the budding of spring, Spring waits patiently for Your glorious entry command.

"He made the moon for the seasons; the sun knows the place of its setting." Psalm 104:19

Thank You, God, for the wind that blows. It reveals Your faithfulness to a sinner that is saved by grace and trusting in You alone—even when the journey ahead seems difficult.

"And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and slammed against that house; and yet it did not fall, for it had been founded on the rock." Matthew 7:25

Thank You, God, for the covering swirls of soft, white snow. It is a beautiful reminder of Christ’s death on the cross and through a personal relationship with Him, my sins are covered, completely forgiven, and washed as white as snow.

"Come now, and let us reason together," Says the Lord, "Though your sins are as scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they will be like wool." Isaiah 1:18

Now it's your turn.

Thank You, God,...

Joy is in the Journey

Hello everyone!
I don't have any medical updates to share as yet. I'm doing well and enjoying every day life. As I prayed about what to share this week, God brought to mind some "Joy Journeys" to blog about. I hope it encourages you with hope in your relationship with our blessed Savior. God bless all of you!  --Jacque

When I was ten years old, I made a decision that would affect my life forever: I gave my heart to Jesus. I remember one Sunday our pastor gave an invitation at the end of the service. He asked if anyone would like to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, to step out of the pew and come forward. My heart pounded as if it was going to explode…and then I froze, unable to move. I told my mom later that day what had happened. “Next week, I’m gonna do it—I’m gonna go forward!” I said. The next Sunday when the pastor gave the invitation, my heart began to pound like crazy again. But the pounding didn’t compare to the joy I experienced when I took that step of faith and publically proclaimed Jesus as my Savior. From that day forward my journey in eternity began. It hasn’t always been easy. I stumble in my faith, say and do stupid stuff and sometimes make a mess of things. Thank goodness my faith is in a Savior that loves and forgives. Because I’ve found that as I trudge through my messy life, ultimately, Joy is in the Journey.

Fourteen years ago, I lost my dad to cancer. Before he passed away, I had the privilege of spending some quality time with him while he was in the hospital. It was late at night and he asked me to stay with him…just a little bit longer. “Being here alone at night is the worst…I just can’t sleep.” he said. So as I sat by his bed stroking his thin, weary arm, Dad began to share with me some of his personal experiences growing up. His eyes sparkled as he reminisced of places he had lived and ornery things he’d done as a kid. Through my sadness I couldn’t help but smile. It was the most precious time I had ever spent with my dad. Then all too soon, it was time for me to leave. As I drove home from Wichita in the early morning hour, tears blinded my eyes from emotions mixed with joy and sadness. A week later, he died. The best part of my dad’s journey was accepting God’s gift of eternal life. And because of that, he is now living fully in the presence of God. Even through the painful paths of life, while walking daily with Christ you will find it: Joy is in the Journey.

My brother, Jeff, died at the young age of 49. His earthly journey was cut short by the ugly disease, pancreatic cancer. The last time I saw him, I had travelled to his home in California. As I sat on the edge of his bed, we talked about our kids, his fancy boat and the future. The future, as in his heavenly future. In the 49 years of my brother’s life, I remember many times of joy. And because of his claim of Christ, I have no doubt that Jeff is now present with the Lord. Even if the journey is short, look for it, it’s there. For Joy is in the Journey.

God is always present and desires an intimate relationship with each of us. I hope throughout your own life, whether in good times or in challenges, with a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, you will find that Joy is in the Journey.

Spiritual Gifts

One of my most frequently asked questions lately has been, “How much weight have you lost?” When I reply, “Close to 40 pounds.” more often than not, a response follows, “What a hard way to lose weight!” It has been hard…not the losing weight, mind you, but the journey. Even through the tough days, what has kept me strong is my faith in God.

Months ago, Pastor Dave encouraged the FBC congregation to take a Spiritual Gift survey to see what our gifts were. After answering the questions, the survey determined my predominant spiritual gift was Faith. I hadn’t really thought much about faith as being a gift. Trusting God has always been second nature for me—never perceiving it as something uncommon. Even in my deepest trials, it has been very natural for me to trust that God is in control of everything.

I remember one particular day I was struggling with nausea. It was a treatment day and I literally had to drag myself out of bed to get ready. Even brushing my teeth and getting dressed was a huge ordeal. The only thing I had enough strength for was to pray. And even so, “God, please help me!” was about all I could muster. It was awful. But you know, God heard and answered my cry—just as I knew He would. That trial wasn’t the most pleasant thing I had to go through, but God gave me the strength to make it to my treatment that day—and eventually back home to my warm jammies and comfy bed. It also reaffirmed my faith in a God that cares about every detail of our lives...big or small.

I guess I say all of this in hopes to encourage you in your own walk of faith. (Oh, by the way, encouragement is another one of my spiritual gifts.) The walk is not always easy, but knowing God is with us gives hope for those weary days when you want to throw in the towel and say, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Believe me, I’ve been there and said that. But I’ve also said, “God, please help me!” And God lovingly says, “I am here, my child. Have faith and trust in Me.”

Go Deeper! Again?

Today in church, Pastor Dave challenged us from the Word in Luke 5 to “Go deeper” in our Christian walk. One of the questions he asked was, “Are you willing to go deeper in your own walk in order to grow and mature spiritually?” I had to ponder on it for awhile. A part of me wanted to proclaim boldly, Yes! I’m willing to step out of the boat and 'go deeper!' while another head-voice rationalized, I think through this cancer journey I’ve had my fill of deep challenges. Thanks anyway, but I’ll take the low road this time. My argument sounded fair enough, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the attitude God wants me to have. Basically, we’re talking about some real commitment and trust here.

I have a scan coming up in March. It’s the biggie…the PET scan. I’m pretty sure PET stands for “Patient Eventually is Traumatized”. (Just kidding, I have no idea what it stands for.) Regardless, I can sit around and worry about it, or I can say, Okay, God. I think I’ve learned some things along this journey, and have hopefully grown some. You have proven how trustworthy You are to me over and over again. I guess it’s time to go deeper. Let’s do this.

I actually did say this today. And in all honestly, I will probably have to say it every day for quite some time. The great thing is, I don’t have to go deeper on my own. God is already there to meet me, and in some cases, to carry me.

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because He lives, all fear is gone.
Because I know Who holds the future.
And life is worth the living just because He lives.