Dry Bones Live

Thus says the Lord God to these bones: Behold, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. Ezekiel 37:5 ESV

The story of dry bones in Ezekiel is one of my favorites.  It's a moving testament to how God works out His plans even when all we see are dead, dry bones.  The Bible is so full of stories of God using the broken, busted, scarred and tattered to do His most mighty works.  He breathes new, changing life into people that many would write off as lost and useless.  

About thirty years ago I let a dream die because of fear.  I was afraid I couldn't perform the work that I would need to be able to perform in order to see the dream come to fruition.  I wanted to serve people as my service to God and I planned to go to seminary.  I was accepted to start the fall of 1990 and just didn't.  Soon after I got married and began a life of serving family and jobs.  I got out of the work that I felt called to and started serving in the capacity of administrative assistant.  I loved all of my jobs and they have been varied and scattered.  A little over a year ago I was challenged by a boss to think about goals.  What were my long term goals.  Deep inside my "dry bones" I still wanted to get my Master's degree and serve in a capacity to help others who were broken and battered.  

Then God opened a door.  A new job doing something I truly loved.  Helping people who were older or physically challenged stay at home.  Helping them maintain independence.  My heart began to beat again.  Just as I got started I got the dreaded cancer diagnosis and again felt like things were dead and wouldn't ever go any farther.  But I have the kind of husband who sees the best in me and pushes me to keep reaching.  

So I did.  I applied.  I applied to the School of Social Work at LSU.  It started okay and then they told me I had to take a statistics class.  I took one of those the first time around and barely passed.  But they sent me a link and I paid my money and I managed to pass the test to pass the class.  Then I got this. 

So in January I will begin breathing life into the dry bones and working toward a goal that I had long let go of.  I'm excited and terrified all at the same time.  My brain isn't as quick as it used to be and there is a lot of extra stuff weighing it down right now.  

Like,  two weddings - one in December and one in February.  A son who will graduate college in the next six months and get a job and start grown up life.  And a mom who will start her fourth battle with cancer.  I think that last one has me most worried and most motivated.  Because I serve an Unstoppable God.  He finishes plans that He starts.  He moves mountains and makes the impossible, possible.  And He heals those who are sick.  

You see my God is big.  He takes all the little, broken, crazy us and turns them into beautiful pictures that shine and reflect His light.  When we let Him breathe life into our dry bones He can make them walk again.  


Jeremiah 29:11 (ESV) For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare^[a] and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

Legacy of Strength

What is strength?  The dictionary says this.

I believe this is a good definition. Strength is something we all want to have.  I have been called strong at many different times in my life.  When I survived losses in life.  When I worked long and hard even when tired.  When I walked through physical pain in a way others might not.  All of these might make it seem as if I was strong but most of the time I don't feel very strong.  I just feel like I have to keep going.  Keep moving, keep putting one foot in front of the other until the darkness fades and I start to see the light again.  

A legacy is defined by the dictionary like this.

My kids probably won't get much from the first but I hope to leave them a legacy of strength.  

I want them to know how to build the strength that keeps you moving.  In my lifetime I have seen many people leave a legacy of strength.  Some fought in wars, some fought illness, some chose not to fight and lived a life full of grace every moment which took great strength. 

In my family tree there is a legacy of strength.  The strength that each generation draws from comes from the same source.  A deep pool of faith.  There were no perfect people or perfect Christians.  We were judgmental and often saw the speck in someone else's eye before we saw the log in our own.  We were flawed and we got angry and we sometimes said the wrong thing or made the wrong choice.  But I believe I can honestly say I learned from my ancestors a legacy of love and faith.  

In our culture today so often we have an ideal of what our legacy should be.  A famous name or a large amount of wealth.  We should be able to leave our children better off than we were.  And that is what I hope to leave my children and all those who I've encountered in this lifetime.  I hope that one day when they think of me they think of the one thing that defined my strength.  I hope and pray they think of Jesus.  

My prayer is that my children and grandchildren will not think of the mistakes I made or the bad choices or the things I got wrong.  I hope that they will just remember that I somehow along the way pointed them to Jesus.  He is my strength and my hope.  

Right now I feel pretty weak.  Un-strong if you will.  The fear of unknowns and what ifs can start to overwhelm me in a hurry if I take my eyes off of the source of my strength.  A cancer diagnoses and the thought of surgery and recovery and the god awful medical bills and time off from work and - you get the picture.  I'm scared.  Scared of what I don't know how to control.  

So I have to refocus my thoughts and keep the relationship that is the most important at a level of intimacy that no one else can understand.  This is my journey and I will choose how to fight and when to sit back and rest.  I have friends who are tired of fighting and some who are just getting started like me.  It's when we lose sight of the moment and look too far forward that we lose our strength.  Because strength is built in the trenches.  In the daily use of the muscles that build them up.  The strength of perseverance comes through persevering. 

Today I'm just admitting my weakness.  I'm just human and I just have hope in the one who knows every single cell in my body.  Even the broken cancer ridden cells.  And I will cling to the hope of knowing He holds my future.  

Corinthians 12:9(ESV) But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

The "C" Word

2 Corinthians 1:4 (ESV) who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

When I was growing up the "C" word to me meant death.  It instilled fear and loss.  If I heard someone say they had the "C" word I just knew they would be dead in no time. I even determined at some point if the "C" word was mentioned in relation to surgery then the surgery would somehow make the "C" word become rampantly out of control and only speed up death.  You see the first people in my life associated with the "C" word all died. 

I was in elementary school when my grandmother was diagnosed with the "C" word - that's cancer for those who were wondering.  She had lung cancer and I honestly don't remember much but that when she died there was a tree in the front yard that had been cut down and had left a smoldering stump.  For some reason I remember someone saying that before it burned all the way out someone else would die.  If my memory is semi correct (my memory sucks most of the time) a great uncle had cancer and passed as well.  I was still in elementary school when my grandfathers were diagnosed with the "C" word and both ultimately passed from it.  Then my aunt was diagnosed and she passed away as well. 

So much loss related to the "C" word.  By the time my mom was diagnosed the first time with breast cancer I was afraid but had known people who managed to beat cancer.  I didn't want to lose my mom to the "C" word and even though they were confident it would be treatable there was still fear involved.  She has now beaten cancer three times.  My sister is also a survivor. 

When I married my husband I acquired some new friends.  One I prayed for often for a variety of struggles.  The biggest being breast cancer.  In the last two or more years she has fought a strong battle against the "C" word. My heart was burdened to pray for her as she fought her own personal demons and the deadly "C" word.  Her fight has been a hard one and she still is fighting today.  She is Greta Painter.  An amazing artist and beautiful soul.  She is a mother, a survivor and a kick ass fighter.  I have admired  her strength and the very first time I got to hug her neck it was all I could do not to sob uncontrollably.  She amazes me. 

Greta Painter - artist

For years I have said that it wasn't a matter of getting cancer, with my family history I figured it was just  a matter of what kind and when.  My first brush with cancer was before my kids were born.  I had my annual check up and the doctor called to say my results were abnormal.  More tests, a biopsy and eventual procedure later took care of the precancerous cervix cells.  A couple of minor procedures with moles that were suspicious and would like lead to cancer came next.  The year after my divorce I had my first breast biopsy.  I was prepared to go to any lengths to make sure I survived to raise my kids.

This month I had my second biopsy in my other breast.  This time I get to fight the "C" word.  The funny thing is I'm not afraid of the cancer.  I had a plan before it ever occurred and I have doctors who are willing to make it happen.  I will have a bilateral mastectomy and reconstruction.  Thankfully the indications are that surgery will be all I need. 

For me the struggle with cancer is my concern for those who have to help me.  I don't do well as the helpee.  I prefer to be the helper.  The financial burdens and the fact that I have to take off from work to actually take care of me.  I have to say that it's almost a relief to finally know which cancer and what my fight will be. 

There are no guarantees in life and every struggle and fight is different.  I pray you will never have to fear the dreaded "C" word but I pray if you do that you have the support of the most important person.  My God knew when and what I would fight.  He set some things in place to make this the perfect time and location for me to fight.  He knew where and when it needed to take place.  I know that beyond anything else He will be right beside me holding me and carrying me through the process. 

I am blessed to have family and friends who are already lifting me in prayer.  We all face struggles and you need a tribe to face them.  Remember to always seek out a solid strong support group.  I wish I could fully understand why one fight seems simpler than another.  I can't comprehend the fight my friend Greta is fighting.  My fight seems very minor compared to the one she is on but I know each of us is unique and God uses every part of our lives to shape us and to allow us to touch others.  I know Greta is touching lives.  Pray with me for all of those fighting and the families who fight with them.

My heart is that as I walk this new journey I will have an even better ability to show compassion to others who walk this way.  I believe God has given me so many different blessed struggles that help me comfort someone else who walks through them. Sometimes the blessing is just being able to learn and share what we learn. 

Proverbs 27:17 "Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another."

Stolen Blessings

“Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.”
‭‭Colossians‬ ‭3:12-14‬ ‭ESV‬‬

I have always been somewhat independent and proud. I prefer to be the fixer or helper and serve behind the scenes more often than in the limelight. As a believer in Jesus I started blogging for a couple of reasaons. Primarily because my brain and heart were overflowing and I needed to spill that out to process it. At the same time I felt that one of the biggest things that was missing in the many churches I grew up in was transparency.

There was this perfectionist Christian mentality that seemed to preclude people from admitting when they were struggling. Too many were concerned with what others would think and say if they admitted their relationship with Jesus wasn’t perfect. That is a very hard way to live and I really tried to live that way.

But then I found the most amazing thing in those same believers. When I faltered or struggled and actually shared that with someone I was often overwhelmed with help or words of encouragement and even some were willing to step up and say I’ve been there too and I understand. Wow. What a blessing to receive. Acceptance and love in spite of the circumstance or struggle.

During really hard losses or struggles God showed up in those people. When my daughter died a friend called to say God told her to buy me a dress for the funeral. She bought a few and one was as if God said through her - I see you. I see your hurt and I am with you. You see the dress designer was named “Sarah Elizabeth” the name we chose for our daughter. My friend didn’t know. She just shopped for dresses because God said to.

Another time a friend called to say she wanted to do my families laundry while my son was in the hospital very near death. That is my least favorite chore. That experience was probably one of the most humbling. My pride wouldn’t let me ask for help easily and to take my dirty underwear to someone else to wash was very difficult. It was physical reminder of our need for transparency.

We learn from each other. We draw hope from each other. When we allow God to use our brokenness  to reach into others lives we give courage and strength to someone else struggling. When we don’t ask for help or someone offers and we refuse then we steal their blessing. You see there are two sides to every blessing. The blessing of being the giver (helper or servant) and the blessing as the receiver. I prefer to be the giver. I really don’t like being the recipient. And yet I have been blessed so many times by friends who listened to God. A bag of groceries or a check or even a bag of unexpected kitchen items left at an apartment door.

In the past few years I’ve really had to remind myself that I need to be aware of stealing the blessing from the giver. When someone takes the time to obey God and offer to help or share or serve and I say no it’s a missed blessing for us both.

My mom is about to go round three with cancer. She has battled breast cancer twice. Now we face yet another round. She isn’t worried about herself but she is worried. Worried for my dad who is worried for her. And worried for all of us kids who are also worried for her and my dad. But one thing I know is that we are all about to experience the blessing of God. Because regardless of what happens with her health I know that there are people who have walked this road that will come along side of us.  People will bring meals and there will be many prayers. And friend prayer is the most powerful thing we can do.

Prayer connects us the the power within (if you are a believer) and the highest power -God. The God who raises the dead and heals the sick and created the universe. Prayer connects us in the most powerful way.

So I ask any of you who read this to just pray. Pray for my family this week as we face surgery and then information.  And next time someone offers to step into your struggle say thank you and allow both of you to be blessed

It's All About Control

Sometimes I think I have life all under control. When I feel like it's spinning out of control I do the things that I can actually control. Like cleaning house, cutting my hair, coloring my hair, piercing my ears or even getting tattoos.

I've done all those things at one time or another just to feel like I can control something. We think we can control our lives. Make decicions and choices and just like that we will be happy and secure. But then something "lifey" happens. A car breaks down, the ac breaks, the kids choose to do life differently than we think they should or they just go back to college and things change again. And what all that we thought we could control goes spinning like tires on black ice. Fast and furiously heading to the edge of insanity we get freaked out.

I think that's why I like tattoos. They are like permanent markers of something i can't control. I got my first one about ten years ago when my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer. There was nothing I could do. My mom was already a survivor so I got a pink ribbon with the word hope to just say I can't do anything but pray and hope and try to support you. I got a new one this weekend. A permanent reminder that God holds my kids in His hands. That no matter what I do or say or wish for them, ultimately it's out of my control. We got matching tattoos my kids and I. Not exactly the same but similar with one common item- a red heart. Because no matter where we go in life or how far they roam our hearts will always be connected. But I can't control their lives or mine. I just have to trust God.

Trust is hard. So very hard and so out of control.  Because trusting God is admitting that I don't have control. None. Not a drop. I can't make everything and everyone be what I want.  Only God can. And when I feel so out of control I just have to remind myself that I am not in control and not let the feelings overwhelm me. And to not let the enemy use my mind against me. I don't have to be in control. I just have to trust the one who is.

“"Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid; for the Lord God is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation."”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭12:2‬ ‭ ESV

There Really Is Nothing I Can Do

“Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.” Psalm 62:1-2 NIV

I am a fixer. I like to be in control and work for an outcome. Something I can touch and feel and complete. To have the satisfaction of knowing I did it and it worked or grew or whatever the outcome, it was positive. That's good and bad. 

There are many things in life that I can't fix. I can't fix other people, their problems or control the outcome of most of life. I'm not God. Sometimes I think I can control things or tell someone how to fix something but ultimately I can't. 

I got my tattoo when my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer. She was the second in my immediate family to be diagnosed with breast cancer but only one of many who have had cancer. My mom was the first to be diagnosed with breast cancer and when she was diagnosed I wasn't even in the state. When my sister was diagnosed I was in the state and realized there wasn't much I could do for her. I went with her to get her hair cut in case she had to have chemo and needed a wig. I brought her some goodies for the hospital but ultimately I couldn't do much. 

Now my mom has been diagnosed again. The other breast and this time not only do I live in the state but in the same house. That means I can be here to help. Of course all I can really do is help with the stuff. Household stuff and just stuff I can control. 

I can't really do anything. I can't fight the fight for her and I can't fix it and make it better. That is ultimately why I got my tattoo. To show my support in a tangible reminder that I can't do anything. 

When my son was small I learned this lesson in a very hard way. I lay next to him in a hospital bed praying that God would take me instead of Him. I realized at that moment that I had no control over this life. Only God has that control. 

Right now I want nothing more than to beg or bargain with God that He would fix my mom. You see the actual diagnosis and surgery aren't really what scares me. It's the unknowns that scare me. The what ifs and what else's that make me worry. It's watching my dad worry because he can't fix it either and he's scared. Scared of what we don't know. And that is where satan wants us to stay. Scared and caught up in the things we can't control or fix. Because if we focus on tomorrow and what we don't know then our focus isn't on the one who does know and who does control the tomorrows. 

God knows exactly what is going on inside of my mom. Far better than any doctor or than us or even her. He knows how hard the fight is going to be or how easy. I just have to remember that for this moment I have enough strength for today. My tattoo is just a physical reminder that there really is nothing I can do but my hope is in the one who controls the world and all that is in it. God is bigger than cancer and He always will be. So for today for this moment I'm gonna stand on the rock that won't be shaken because there is no promise of tomorrow for any of us. 

“Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” James 4:14 NIV