a new awareness………

I have spent much time in a place that I pass each day on my way into work but never really knew until recently what all existed behind the brick walls of the building that I only see from the outside.

My precious little friend, Regan Eva, has spent much of the four months of her life in a hospital bed at Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta on the Emory campus. I work on the campus so it has become somewhat of a routine for me to pop over to see her and her Mom and my close friend, Kristin, frequently when I get off work. Regan just received her third chemo therapy treatment for her retinoblastoma that has resided in her little brain and eyes since birth. I have lost count of her blood transfusions. I have been overwhelmed with emotion each time I walk the halls of this children’s hospital and see so many sick little children and their family members coping with whatever disease they are having to face and deal with on a daily basis. A disease that has over taken their normal lives and formed a routine of daily function much different than they ever dreamed when they held their precious child in their arms at birth daydreaming of a future of fun times and precious memories.

It has humbled me beyond belief and stricken me with a depth of grief that I didn’t know a women who has no children of her own could ever experience.

(Hang on, give me a minute to pull it back together to continue writing)

This new awareness had already made enough of an impact on me that I thought I was beginning to deal with it okay until a couple of weeks ago I was walking through the halls of the hospital on my way to Regan’s room when the overhead intercom system sounded off a “code blue”. My first thought, being in the medical profession for so many years, was oh no someone has gone into cardiac arrest again. I got off the elevators to see doctors and the code team running down the hall when it dawned on me…..I am in a children’s hospital! A CHILD has arrested!!!!!!!!!  A CHILD!!!

(hold on again,my eyes are welling up with tears)

When I got to Regan’s room her nurse was in there and I asked her if that code blue meant the same here as in the hospital and she looked up at me with a sadness in her eyes and said yes. I asked her if that happened often and she responded with a heaviness in her voice, more than we want it to.

I felt a tightness in my chest and a buckling in my knees for a moment and could not speak. The nurse looked over at me as she was adjusting that precious little baby in her crib and gave me a look of understanding my feelings.

It was an event that has made an everlasting imprint on my heart.

excuse me, are you………..

This was delivered in my email in box and I thought it too good not to share on my blog, especially this time of the season.

This made me stop and think and maybe it will brighten your day!

‘Excuse me, are you Jesus?’

A few years ago a group of salesmen went to a regional sales convention in Chicago . They had assured their wives that they would be home in plenty of time for Friday night’s dinner. In their rush, with tickets and briefcases, one of these salesmen inadvertently kicked over a table which held a display of apples. Apples flew everywhere. Without stopping or looking back, they all managed to reach the plane in time for their nearly missed boarding. ALL BUT ONE !!! He paused, took a deep breath, got in touch with his feelings, and experienced a twinge of compassion for the girl whose apple stand had been overturned. He told his buddies to go on without him, waved good-bye, told one of them to call his wife when they arrived at their home destination and explain his taking a later flight. Then he returned to the terminal where the apples were all over the terminal floor. He was glad he did. The 16-year-old girl was totally blind! She was softly crying, tears running down her cheeks in frustration, and at the same time helplessly groping for her spilled produce as the crowd swirled about her, no one stopping and no one to care for her plight. The salesman knelt on the floor with her, gathered up the apples, put them back on the table and helped organize her display. As he did this, he noticed that many of them had become battered and bruised; these he set aside in another basket. When he had finished, he pulled out his wallet and said to the girl, ‘Here, please take this $40 for the damage we did. Are you okay?’ She nodded through her tears.. He continued on with, ‘I hope we didn’t spoil your day too badly.’ As the salesman started to walk away, the bewildered blind girl called out to him, ‘Mister….’ He paused and turned to look back into those blind eyes. She continued, ‘Are you Jesus?’ He stopped in mid-stride, and he wondered. Then slowly he made his way to catch the later flight with that question burning and bouncing about in his soul: ‘Are you Jesus?’ Do people mistake you for Jesus? That’s our destiny, is it not? To be so much like Jesus that people cannot tell the difference as we live and interact with a world that is blind to His love, life and grace. If we claim to know Him, we should live, walk and act as He would. Knowing Him is more than simply quoting Scripture and going to church It’s actually living the Word as life unfolds day to day. You are the apple of His eye even though we, too, have been bruised by a fall. He stopped what He was doing and picked you and me up on a hill called Calvary and paid in full for our damaged fruit.

Please share this, {IF you feel led to do so}. Sometimes we just take things for granted, when we really need to be sharing what we know…Thanks. Have a great day!

Happy Easter!

Thank you ,Jesus for givingYour life for us so that we may have eternal life with You when we accept You as our Savior!

a tough journey……..

She made her debut into this world just seven weeks ago, being quite the beauty right from her birth. Her mom is a dear friend and has been my prayer partner for over 3 years. Two of those years we have prayed that God would bless my friend and her husband with a baby. Needless to say we awaited her arrival with excitement and anticipation. Little Miss Regan Eva was all that we knew she would be and more. She has melted our hearts with her little coos and grunts.

She looks stunning in pink and has the biggest beautiful dark eyes that will melt your heart as soon as they lock onto yours as she gazes up at you. Her mom and dad realize that their precious little daughter is an amazing gift from God, one of His most incredible miracles!

Little Regan Eva was diagnosed with retinoblastoma this past Wednesday. It is apparent in both eyes from the tests that were done. Monday she has an MRI scheduled to make sure the cancer is nowhere else in her body and while she is anesthetized she will have a port line inserted into her tiny body for the administration of chemotherapy.

Stunned,I’m not sure is an appropriate word to describe her parents reaction as well as everyone else’s. I don’t know that there is a word that describes the emotions parents feel when receiving such news about the tiny miraculous gift of life they have been given by our Creator. It will be a journey of challenge and being strong for their little girl, taking them down a road no parent wants to have to travel. It will also be for these parents a journey of faith and complete trust in our Heavenly Father knowing that He will never leave them or forsake them on this journey.(Joshua 1:5)

Already this family has been so covered in prayer and we know without a doubt that God has a plan bigger than anything we can imagine for one little precious Regan Eva! We praise You for that Father!

So my friends, Regan and her parents will covet your prayers whenever you spend time conversing with God and you are thanked in advance.

Life is not waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain…in praise to our Heavenly Father for always bringing us through the storm!

in good company…….

Out of frustration, I broke my pencil in half and threw it across the table. My mom walked over and asked me what was wrong. I told her with tears welling up in my eyes that I couldn’t write pretty. She asked me why I was writing with that hand anyway. ” My teacher is making me do it”, I replied with a pouty voice. I was in the first grade.”But you’re left handed,” she said, “what do you mean your teacher is making you write with your right hand?”

I explained that my teacher was strapping my left hand to the back of my chair with a belt whenever we would do a writing lesson. It wasn’t just me but some other kids in the class who were writing with the same hand as me.I don’t remember her reaction to my response, I just remember that she called Dad and in a matter of minutes it seemed he walked in the house in his police uniform from working his beat that night. Our school principal was a friend of theirs and went to our church so they called her at home that evening. The next morning my parents and the parents of the other left handed kids were in the principal’s office with my teacher. The other parents were glad the teacher was trying to change their children’s writing hand because they did not want them to grow up left handed but my parents said that if God made me left handed they were not going to change it.

The teacher was fired and the school brought in a counselor to spend time with us left handed kids to assure us that there was nothing wrong with us for writing with our left hand. That’s what I remembered the most, the tender look on that counselor’s face when she said to us “don’t ever let anyone tell you  that you are writing with the wrong hand, you are just writing with the opposite hand!” I have always remembered that and have been proud of being left handed.

I was reading my devotion the other day and it lead me to Judges 3:15. “Again the Israelites cried out to the Lord, and He gave them a deliverer-Ehud, a left-handed man, the son of Gera the Benjamite.”

A left handed man! He delivered Israel from their enemies, this left handed man. How about that!!

It seems that I am in good company!

Thank You, Father, for yet another one of  Your little “moments”.

that ol’ doxology……

Boy how I remember that song every Sunday morning of my growing years. We sang it after every church service before we were dismissed to go home. I just remember when the doxology was sung, I would always let out a “oh brother, here we go again” sigh and if I was sitting by Mom she would nudge me and look down at me with that “you better be reverent and sing the words” look. So in my most monotone, uninterested, just get through it voice I would be obedient to her. I’m sure God was not pleased with me and my little  ” hurry and just get this over with” attitude, Mom sure wasn’t pleased with me.

It has been years since I have heard much less sang that song and had almost forgotten about it, that is until last Sunday at church. At the beginning of the service when our fabulous Westridge Church praise band was doing their usual awesome getting us all in the mood to worship God  with the music, they played a jazzed up spiritual version of the Doxology that completely rocked the sanctuary! I mean the whole church was so filled with praises for God as we sang it several times with hands lifted up to Him and tears of joy and love for our Redeemer flowing down the cheeks of so many people praising Him! It was absolutely incredible!!! I know with all my heart that God had to be looking down on us just beaming with pleasure as His children gave him so much praise.

I now, so many years later, totally have a different outlook on the song that I used to dread singing on Sunday morning! Thanks WRC praise band for having such a heart for God to sing that wonderful song to God from the depths of your servant hearts and make me see so many years later the true meaning of singing it to God! I look forward with expected excitement to sing it again next time the Holy Spirit lays it on your hearts to do so again.

How blessed we are at Westridge Church  to have a praise band that has such a heart of worship and desires to pass it on to the rest of us every Sunday morning! I find myself singing the songs in praise to God all through the week.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow

Praise Him all creatures here below

Praise Him above ye heavenly host

Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost

AMEN!

Monday morning light……

It was a shuttle bus kinda morning from my parking deck at work to the clinic about two and a half blocks away. I usually enjoy walking  but have refrained from that mode of transportation lately while recovering from my ankle surgery. One reason riding the bus does not appeal to me is that no matter what kind of ice breaker I may try to toss out there to the  morning “zombies” sitting around me, no one grabs hold and I am sometimes put in an awkward position of complete silence attached to the stares from blank faces. I figure they have either not had their coffee fix yet or they are trying to wake up, or both.

Yet this Monday morning as a few of us  stood in the cold all wrapped up in scarves, winter coats and gloves waiting for that white eight wheeled passenger carrier to chug around the corner, one perky young black man greeted us all with a chipper “good morning.” I think I was the only one to respond to him as we piled on the warm bus. He sat right across from me and I noticed him holding a book that looked very familiar to me. So I mustered up a little courage and popped out a question figuring he would answer since he had already cracked the ice.

“What’s that book you’ve got in your hand?”,I asked knowing the answer already but curious how he would respond to my question. ” This book? Why it’s the Word!! Do you know this book?”

“Sure do, it’s my favorite book. Read it just about every day!”

He gave me a big smile and looked around the bus at the other folks sitting in their own little worlds and he boldly asked “is everyone born again?” Well, that certainly got people’s attention as they all glanced around to see who might step out of their comfort zone and speak up. One woman danced around the question with a comeback response from something  she had heard on the radio about religion as the others all eyeballed each other trying to figure out who might be “born again” in the group.

The bus came to this young man’s stop and as he bounced down a step he turned and told us all to have blessed day in the Lord. I couldn’t help but think at that moment how big the smile must have been on the face of the One that sacrificed His life so we could be born again. I’m sure Jesus might have been thinking “well done, my faithful servant!” as He was pleased at the young servant’s boldness. Jesus tells us in John 3:3 ” I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born again.”

Isn’t that what we are suppose to do when we become followers of Christ? Step out in bold faith sharing God’s Word like this young man did without any fear or hesitation? Matthew 5:16 in the Word says if we are Christ followers we should let our light shine before men. Well, I’d say that was one bright morning on that shuttle bus carrying unsuspecting folks to face their Monday responsibilities. I wonder what impact it made on each of them throughout the day, wonder what seed might have been planted that God had set up ahead of time and this young bold follower was obedient to the nudging of the Holy Spirit to follow through with his conviction. Only God knows.

I just know that I’m glad that young man was on that bus this cold Monday morning,  setting an example for me to be more of a light to this dark world.

Sure gave me a joyous Monday!

A friendship renewed….

June 2005

I was on the Care Team at Westridge Church. That’s a team that sends cards to people when there is a need, takes food to families and visits people in the hospital. I was on the card team but one day I got a call at work at The Emory Clinic asking me if I would go visit a young woman who was a patient at Emory Hospital just across the street or through the tunnel. How could I say no, she was just diagnosed with leukemia and was scared of the unknown disease that had taken over her body and wanted someone to pray with her.

I was so nervous as I walked through that tunnel, wondering what I would say to her, if she would even respond to me or want me to pray for her. I was a stranger walking into her hospital room invading her world of fear.

I lightly tapped on her door and heard a tender “come in”. My eyes fell upon this beautiful young woman whose eyes were full of the unknown. Even though I was a bundle of nerves, I approached her with confidence, introduced myself and how I came as a stranger to walk into her hospital room. I knew, we both knew in a matter of minutes that this was a total “God thing”. We immediately took to each other, talked about her illness and her fears and questions and we prayed together. I left her room that afternoon with a promise of returning soon. As I walked back through the tunnel to my job I burst into tears of a plethera of emotions. How could this happen to a beautiful vibrant young woman, how God had put me, a stranger, in her life and what was to become of this fierce disease that had attacked and taken over her body.

In the weeks to follow, I would go to her room after work and spend time with her. I took my favorite chic flick DVD’s and we watched some movies together. I was leading a Beth Moore Bible study at church and bought her a workbook to follow along with our group. I even took pictures of her and put one in a frame and set it out each week at our Bible study and she became our honorary member. We prayed for her every week.

Over time she started chemo treatments and lost her hair and her gorgeous eyelashes. My husband came to the hospital a couple of times after work and we would order pizza and hang out with her and her boyfriend. It had truly developed into a very special friendship. Two strangers brought together by God’s awesome plan.

She finished her chemo treatments eventually and was not in the hospital so much. She lived on the opposite side of town from me so we did not see each other very much but we tried to keep in touch over time with phone calls and sometimes she would stop by and see me when she came to the cancer clinic for out patient appointments. Time and space had drifted us apart  but God had done something to both our hearts and we developed an admiration and friendship of love for one another that would be with us always no matter the time that passed between any contact from each other.

Melissa is in remission today and God has done a mighty work in her life. Her hair has grown back out and her eyelashes even more beautiful, I’m so envious! She is married to her boyfriend ( I was at the wedding) and now they have moved back to this side of town and they are  back at Westridge Church. My husband and I had left there 2 years ago to follow a church plant from Westridge down the road from our house but are back at Westridge as of a  few months ago.

Melissa and I just started meeting with another friend to pray and study the Bible together. Yesterday, Sunday morning we sat together at church and listened to Brian, our pastor give a message on doing life together. Not just coming to church on Sunday morning and looking at the back of people’s heads but looking at people face to face. How church is not about attendance but it’s about relationship, to be connected to other believers so we can spur each other on and encourage each other. He told us that this is how God created us to live, He designed us to do life together, not alone.

January 2009

Melissa and I are “doing life together”. A full circle, a friendship renewed. God is so amazingly awesome!

hi ho hi ho,it’s back to work……….

It’s been two weeks since I went back to work from my 7 week surgery recovery. I didn’t sleep well the night before, my husband thinks it may have been anxiety from getting back into the routine. I knew 4:40 was going to come much earlier in the morning than say 9:00ish. (I know, I got pretty lazy)

Once I got up that morning I was raring to go, took the dogs out (only this time I didn’t get to curl back up under the sheets), got my shower, ate breakfast and headed out in my car to face the morning traffic on my hour drive into town. Seemed like I had just done that! Once I got a warm welcome back and settled into the routine that I have done for the last 16 plus years, it all seemed normal and like I had not even been away!

As I drove home that afternoon, I felt contentment and gratitude and utter humbleness to our Creator that made our bodies to do remarkable almost unthinkable supernatural healing.

I felt content and grateful to have a job that I enjoy very much and has been good to me over the years. One that allowed me to take seven weeks off with full pay that I had accrued over the years. I am grateful for good co workers/team mates that are willing to work with me while still on one crutch and in a bulky boot since our occupation in a cardiac cath lab is one of standing and moving around a lot.

My ankle, which was causing me quite a bit of discomfort and immobility from an motorcycle  injury over 30 years ago had become somewhat of a handicap to me. An excellent surgeon, Dr. Sam Labib at Emory Sports Center in Atlanta,GA (thanks, doc) and God’s amazing healing process (thanks, heavenly Father) has me on the road to a less painful and more mobile way of life. I find myself amazed an in awe of the whole process.

It has made a change in my way of thinking about everyday life and how we tend to get in an unintentional mode of taking it for granted. How we use and often abuse our bodies daily not thinking of how much we rely on every part of this amazing creation to function for us in all manners of life. So now, when I  more easily get out of bed each morning with much less pain and get prepared to start my day I have to take a moment to thank God for what I too often so easily took for granted.

It is the day the Lord has made, I am rejoicing and being glad of it!

a new word for a new year….

It’s interesting how I get my word for the year. Last year it was “ponder”, which I did quite a bit of that throughout the year, guess I always will from now on cause I find myself pondering over life as I get closer to settling down in my mansion in my eternal home.

This year, the word that kept popping up in my mind and actually in front of me in some very odd ways because I felt it was too simple and plain a word for me to get excited about is….Believe.

Yet once I had made a home for my new word in my mind , I have been amazed at the depth this word truly carries. (I know I shouldn’t end a sentence with a verb but hey, it’s my blog!)

Believe- to have confidence or faith in the truth, the existence or the reliability of something; to have faith, confidence, trust.

Boy, don’t we all need to have confidence and faith in something in the times we are living in today? Well, truth to me is God’s Living Word and the promise of our salvation when we put our trust in Him and accept His Son Jesus as our Savior. That is the purest truth one will ever know.

Confidence, faith, trust….we can have it all in Him.

Beth Moore said in her blog that she wants to have her “a Jesus year in 2009″. I’m right there with you, Beth, me and my husband. That’s why we rang our new year in on our knees in prayer..for our families, friends, neighbors, co workers, the unsaved, this country, our marriage and our personal walk with Jesus. We are believing God for answering prayers this year and looking out for this country because He is ultimately the One in control. I believe that with all my heart.

I believe that healing will take place this year. I believe that love will abound this year. I believe that people will step up to the plate to help others. ( I saw tremendous evidence of that in our church this Christmas season). I believe that people will be lead to know and accept Jesus as their Savior and live in victory. I believe that hate will be replaced with love. I believe that new friendships will take place and old ones will deepen.

I believe that I really will lose this weight I want to shed!

I believe because I have hope, hope in a God that never fails us or leaves us. No matter what our struggles or situation, He is with us and  will pull us through when we believe and trust Him to do so.

“Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength, they will soar on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Isaiah 40:31

I believe that verse, it’s one of my favorites and has pulled me through many a weary time.

I believe that God’s mercies are new every morning and that  He will walk through each day with us and carry us when we feel we can not take another step.

BELIEVE…….. guess that’s gonna be my word for the year and you know, it’s kinda growing on me!

a story to share…..

This came in an email…

The “W” in Christmas

Each December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience.

I had cut back on nonessential obligations—extensive card writing,
endless baking, decorating, and even overspending.

Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious
family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas.
My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting
season for a six year old.

For weeks, he’d been memorizing songs for his school’s “Winter Pageant”.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d be working the night of the
production, unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his
Teacher, she assured me there’d be a dress rehearsal the morning of the
presentation.

All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then.
Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise.

So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early,
found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around the room I saw
several other parents quietly scampering to their seats.

As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class, accompanied
by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by
one, rose to perform their song.

Because the public school system had long stopped referring to the
holiday as “Christmas,” I didn’t expect anything other than fun,
commercial entertainment songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and
good cheer.

So, when my son’s class rose to sing, “Christmas Love,” I was slightly
taken aback by its bold title.

Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy
mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads.
Those in the front row—center stage—held up large letters, one by one, to
spell out the title of the song.

As the class would sing “C is for Christmas,” a child would hold up the
letter C. Then, “H is for Happy,” and on and on, until each child holding
up his portion had presented the complete message, “Christmas Love.”
The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her; a
small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter “M” upside down -
totally unaware her letter “M” appeared as a “W”.

The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little one’s
mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she stood
tall, proudly holding her “W”.
Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter
continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it together.
A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen. In that instant,
we understood the reason we were there, why we celebrated the holiday in
the first place, why even in the chaos, there was a purpose for our
festivities.

For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear:

“C H R I S T W A S L O V E”
And, I believe, He still is. Amazed in His presence . . . humbled by His
love.