Going to church on a sad day isn’t really easy but…

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Posted on March 23, 2009

So yesterday I went to church. I would have preferred to be holed up in my house having a nice, little feel sorry for me time but I thought that would just be self-serving and non-productive. I also thought it would be a bad example for my children, one of whom was feeling as miserable as I was.

Dark sunglasses hid my tear-stained eyes as we made our way into the church. With a wad of Kleenex in one hand, I tried to creep in quietly because I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Honestly I don’t like banal small talk to begin with as I dislike superficial conversation and yesterday was certainly not a day for idle chit-chat.

We currently attend a small, start-up church so it’s not like we walk into a sanctuary or a fancy building. Our church is actually an elementary school. There is no organ music or choir, our chairs are not pews but just folding chairs. It’s fairly modest and it’s hard to “disappear” into the crowd.

But I safely made it into the gymnasium which is where the service is held without really saying anything. Whew! My emotions were very raw and close to the surface and it was all I could do to not bawl my eyes out. Maybe some people thought I was a rock star or something because I kept the sunglasses on as I waited for church to begin. Wait a sec, is that Hannah Montana? No, it’s just Cindy the crying West Point mama! HA!

I certainly wasn’t giving off an aura of “hey, somebody talk to me.” I have always been the kind of person that for some reason doesn’t get accosted by the people at the perfume counter. Even though I am rather petite, I guess I give off the impression that I shouldn’t be squirted with the latest fragrance. I don’t usually have to worry about people approaching me in an unnecessary manner.

But here I was, hurting, crying, sunglasses on, my treasured parka covering my aching mama’s soul and suddenly I got blessed.

Someone hugged me.

She took a risk and hugged me. Her tender words reached into my sad heart and made it feel a little better. It surprised me, quite honestly because it was a beautiful single woman. We don’t really talk too much although she is a very nice person. Heather didn’t know why I was crying, why I was so sad but she took a second and reached out. And I noticed that I hurt a little less.

Then to my horror, the pastor asks everyone to stand and greet each other. “Puh-lease! Today is NOT the day! Can’t you see I’m falling apart!,” I thought to myself. I reluctantly stood up because it would have been looked more awkward to remain sitting on my gray, plastic folding chair. I felt sorry for the new guy who shook my hand because he had no idea how to respond to a crying lady in sunglasses but heck, at least he tried.

And then it happened again.

I got another hug. This time from Jessie, beautiful single woman behind me. In a broken voice, I told her why I was so sad and although she has never had a child, I felt like she sincerely cared. And I noticed that again, I hurt a little less.

Church was over. My sunglasses had come off during the sermon and I was gaining composure but I felt the tears surfacing again as we were leaving the gym. All I wanted to do was bolt for the exit but before I that happened, another woman came up to me.

This time it was Tricia, a mama and she asked if she could give me a hug. I gladly accepted and dutifully deposited some tears on her nice, clean shirt. Yes, I was still sad but something had changed.

So why am I writing this post? Because I want to encourage you, I want to challenge myself, to reach out. I wasn’t putting out the welcome sign for any of these women but the love of Christ gave them the unction to see past my exterior. Despite the sunglasses and the withdrawn attitude, these ladies reached out. They weren’t full of nice-ities and platitudes, they didn’t pat me on my little head and say everything was going to be all right. They didn’t placate me and give me some worn-out clique. In fact, they didn’t even say they understood what I was feeling but those few seconds it took for them to be nice to me, I’m telling you, it ministered to me in ways they cannot understand.

In my work, I purpose myself to reach out to hurting teenagers. They are everywhere. In every classroom, auditorium where I speak, I can spot them so easily. Their personas can be hard and intimidating. Some have a seemingly inpenetrable attitude and I admit, I can be afraid to extend myself but I try to move beyond my insecurities and touch their heart. Sometimes with a motherly pat on the shoulder, other times with a listening ear. I have been blown off and it hurts but I still must do it. Interestingly, Sunday, I was on the receiving end and three people extended a hand of kindness my way.

Check out this Scripture found in Matthew 25. Jesus says, “For I was hungry and you gave me food. I was thirsty and you gave me drink. I was a stranger and you welcomed me. I was naked and you clothed me. I was in prison and you came to me.” Then he says to his disciples, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it for me.”

The physical hugs from these women lasted a short time but the impact of what they did is still with me. For that, I give great thanks. Go do it, dear friends.

PS. Shout out to my sister Lorri for letting me use her pics!

Bracelets of hope in an El Salvadoran prison

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Posted on December 9, 2008

The plans had been for us to speak at a university while in San Salvador. We had made a nice slide presentation about purity and were looking forward to the opportunity to share our message with college students.

But as I should have learned by now, things don’t always go according to plans and we learned Thursday night that we wouldn’t be speaking there after all. I was a little disappointed but assumed that God had other plans for us. We were given the choice between staying at home while the rest of the team did the medical clinic at the girls’ prison or joining them and finding something to do. That was an easy choice. We decided to go back to prison.

I can honestly say I was looking forward to going back to prison. Wow, that is a strange sentence I never expected to write!

Beth Anne and I scrambled Thursday night brainstorming about what we could do with the girls in prison. We had enjoyed such a precious time with them the day before, what else we do with these girls given the restrictions and the limited time and resources we had available? The Lord, always faithful, gave me an idea, something I had seen American girls do and with a quick google search, our plans were underway.

At the prison, while everyone else on our team organized the medical aspect of our visit, BA and I got permission to meet with another group of girls, those serving much longer sentences than the ones we had seen the day before.

As we gathered around a table, with prison guards patrolling the grounds right outside the gated windows and a steady breeze wafting through the open air walls, we were blessed to share our message with them.

I even saw a few guards peeking in to hear our presentation. These girls were a little tougher and wilder than the last batch but seemed genuinely interested in hearing about “pureza” (purity) and having a fresh start through Christ.

After we were finished we asked the girls, “Do you want to do a little project?” “Si!” they all shouted.

At first I was going to just tell the girls that we were going to make some little bracelets but then I got an inspiration and with a quick nudge to BA, I said, “Would you like to make bracelets of esperanza?”

Esperanza means hope and I think it’s such a beautiful word, in Spanish. Even more excitedly the girls said, “Si!” I was encouraged already!

So this is what we did.

First we dipped little strips of cotton material in water. Once wet, we placed the strips on the table and began rolling the strips diagonally.

It was great how the Lord supplied all our needs because in addition to having plenty of fabric around the house the night before, we also found a bunch of beads and brought them along with us to the prison.

After the girls had rolled their fabric all up, they began adding beads to their bracelets of hope. I told these El Salvadorian girls that I saw a lot of American girls wearing these in the States.

They intently worked on their bracelets and even came up with a few cool variations. I loved seeing their individuality expressed in their bracelets and they even made bracelets of hope for their friends and some family. They worked nicely together and were very kind and respectful to us. Even the toughest and hardest of people still deserve a fresh start.

When we finished, we asked if we could take their pictures. We were forbidden to take pictures of the girls’ faces but this was not a problem, we simply took pictures of their hands.

If you look at this picture below, you will see an old, white hand with a thin, silver wedding band on one finger.

It’s the hand without a watch and um, that hand belongs to me ;).

The reason I placed my hands there is one of the girls was embarrassed about her hands. I’m not sure what had happened to them but she had dark blue markings or burnings on her knuckles. It would have scared me in the real world!

I didn’t want her excluded from the picture and so desperately wanted a picture with her, I offered her a solution. I put my hands over hers so no one would see them. All of our hands are over a piece of paper where I wrote:

Esperanza = Hope

It was one of many bittersweet moments I experienced in the prison. Check out the lemon in the picture. Apparently the girls like to eat lemons!

One by one, the girls placed the bracelets of esperanza on each other.

They made them for all the members of our team.

I have many new pieces of jewelry at home that I rarely wear but since returning home from El Salvador, with a few minor exceptions, I haven’t taken my bracelet of esperanza off my wrist.

A meager bracelet made only of a small swatch of fabric and a few cheap plastic beads is among my most treasured possessions.

In Memory of an Incredible Man

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Posted on November 25, 2008

Today’s post is in memory of a precious man of God who loved his family and served his Lord to the very end. Strangely I never met him in person but came to know him through my blog. His valiant fight with cancer ended today and I feel honored to in some very small way to have known this man and his amazing family.

Although Jim probably wasn’t a perfect guy (because there has only been one of them and His name is Jesus), Pastor Jim had his priorities in order. Jesus. Family. Others. He seemed to live his life pouring out the love of Christ to his family and others. Even when unable to respond with words, he would still wink at his wife as the cancer spread through his body. Please pray for his family as they grieve and adjust to life without their husband, dad, son and brother in their lives. May God remind them that He has placed each one of their tears on His scroll.

Here is a link to Jim’s blog. If you are struggling today and need a proper perspective or if you just want to meet a really amazing person who will inspire you, a few minutes on thehokeypokeyplace.blogspot.com is worth your time. Have Kleenex nearby.

Thank you, Jim for the impact you had on my life. My family has held hands and prayed for you so many times. I had hoped to meet you in person but I will look forward to seeing you in heaven. I pray Merrily and I will meet and hug and cry in person one day. Surely you are hearing, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Spending time in prison

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Posted on November 22, 2008

When I thought about the things I wanted to do in my life, going to an El Salvadoran girls’ prison never made it to the list. Tahiti, yes. A really cool place in France where there are houses carved in the mountains, absolutely. Montana, very high on my list.

But seriously, an El Salvadoran girls’ prison, let’s face it, nowhere near the top thousand. But I have experienced two of the most emotional and tender days of my life and I would say every Christian mother needs to visit an El Salvadoran prison.

It’s almost an insult to even try to explain all that I have seen, heard and felt because all words are lacking.

bookshelf at the prison

We entered the locked doors and teenage girls some as young as 13 began en- thusiastically greeting us. Beth Anne and I along with our wonderful translator Lulu went upstairs into the stark meeting room and the girls practically jumped for joy! It was a pretty cool to see girls so happy to see us.

About a week ago, I did something else rather unexpected. I put some blue highlights in my hair! Think the colors of a parakeet and you have a fairly good idea what it looks like. I did it on a whim and just decided to go for it.

Members of my own family, (AND YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) 😉 have not approved of this decision but I seriously have been wanting to do it for a while. I dyed just about 10% of my entire head…now I know why I did it. The girls in the El Salvadoran prison have LOVED it! We have definitely bonded over my stylish coif.

They have found my blue (azule) hair VERY beautiful and maybe even glamorous! So take that everyone else who hasn’t found it especially “bonita,” y’all I’ve been workin’ it at the El Salvadoran girls’ prison!

We all placed our hands around the basketball before leaving.

We shared our message about hope and purity. In the middle of the presentation, the mood in the room became so precious, so sweet. Beth Anne, Lulu the translator and I were talking about the infinite love of God. His grace. His mercy. His forgiveness.

If you could have seen these girls, some serving sentences for extortion and other crimes, wiping tears from their eyes, you would have been as emotional as we were. We told them that despite all the things that they have done, and quite honestly we have done, Jesus loves us and died for our sins. There was a hush in the prison walls.

Here we were, behind bars, in a prison, with young criminals and we had the humble privilege of telling these girls that THIS place could become a place of hope and freedom because of Jesus. Lulu had to stop translating for a moment, she was so overcome with God’s presence. Tears were streaming down our faces and there was love overflowing. Even the prison guards were touched by the message as we also told these ladies that Jesus loved them.

We couldn’t take pictures of the girls’ faces but in a moment of creativity, we found a way around it. We took pictures of feet! Our feet among their feet!

And we took pictures of our hands. Our hands embracing their hands. The white hands holding the little brown hands. The women who were free to leave this prison among the girls who were going to stay.

We took pictures of our shadows. Our shadows among theirs. We took pictures with our backs to the camera with all of our arms around each other. It will be among my most treasured photos. As soon as I come home I will post the photos. You’ve got to see them.

What am I doing here? I do not deserve to be in a place like this. It is too beautiful, too moving and yet the Lord has brought me to this place for such a time as this. I am deeply, profoundly, eternally humbled.

Every Christian mother needs to spend time in an El Salvadoran prison. Put it on your list.

Happy Birthday!

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Posted on October 30, 2008

Here are some fun things we got Ike for his 12th birthday!

I found this simple awesome book, “You Gotta Be Kidding!” by Randy Horn.

It is a crazy book of “would you” questions.

Would you rather
Turn into a fly
OR
turn into a cockroach?

Would you rather
Have no teeth and try to eat a big bowl of caramel popcorn
OR
try to eat four bagels?

Would you rather
Get poison ivy all over your rear end
OR
between all your fingers and toes?

Out of all the gifts we gave our youngest OS, so far this book seems to be the gift he likes the most.

Ike completely grossed me out as we drove to my nephew Jon’s 3rd birthday party. Anytime a 12 year old can repulse his mom is a good day. Although I can usually keep pace with my three OS in the gross department, I must say You Gotta Be Kidding pushed me to the limit. By the time we arrived, I had more than a day’s worth of disgusting questions about spit and pus. It was fun though, I think it will elicit some interesting dinnertime conversations!

Then Ike got a new CD collection of Adventures in Odyssey stories.

You should listen to this wonderful series of radio programs by Focus on the Family. Ike learns Biblical truth in an entertaining and educational way and whenever I join him, I always find a fresh word from the Lord.

They aren’t preachy or lecturing, they are humorous and truly worthwhile. You can also listen to the series on the radio with this link. Ike does this all the time, too!

And I found this Flip-to-Win hangman travel game for Ike. It is a wooden game with an erasable whiteboard and self-storing dry-erase marker. It should be cool to use when we make longer car rides and I’m hoping Ike will let me borrow this for my trip to El Salvador on Nov. 15.

Mark was out of town on Ike’s birthday but being the great daddy he is, he wrote on a card for his boy.

In the card, Mark included a handmade coupon entitling Isaac to his all-time favorite dinner.

Crab legs.

Isaac has been asking for crab legs since the last time he had them. I think if our growing boy actually paid for crab legs, he would ask less often!

So after eating pizza and birthday cake at Jon’s b-day, we went to Sam’s Club and I purchased $47 worth of giant Alaskan king crab legs. We gorged on the ocean’s delectable treasures.

Sounds like a fitting way to celebrate our sweet boy! Psalm 127:3 “Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from him.”

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Habla Espanol?

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Posted on September 29, 2008

If you saw my on the road today, you saw me practicing Spanish. If you saw me at the chiropractor, you saw me whispering Spanish in the waiting room. If you were in my house, you heard me trying to recall all my limited Spanish vocabulary or reading a Chick-Fil-A book First 500 Words Spanish. I’ve got espanol on el cerebro! (that’s Spanish on the brain!)

Ola!

Como usta usted?

Donde esta la mesa (table)? La silla (chair)? Su cabesa (your head)? (that last one is a little joke!) Also, I don’t know how to put the upside down grammar in my blog, forgive me!

With my trip to El Salvador six weeks away, I really want to be able to say a few things in Spanish. I have a French major so there are some similarities in these romance languages. It’s funny though because I was practicing and noticed that I put a French lilt on Spanish words. I sound like an American person who speaks French trying to sound like a latina and that, mi amigos, is quite a stretch. I certainly hope the folks in El Salvador appreciate my efforts and that I don’t completely make a fool of myself.

If I could do things over again, I’d be a linguistics major. Languages and words fascinate me. If only my brain were smarter! I used to be able to dream in French and fondly recall the time while I lived in France for a year in college.

I lived in Caen, Normandy, France and for Spring Break, I went to Italy and inadvertently ended up traveling by myself for two weeks (long story but one that still blows my mind). I was a junior in college, walking around Florence, Italy all alone trying to find the hostel where I was going to stay. All I had was a German map. My brain was all twirled around as I translated the German words into the Italian street signs, then translated those words into French and synthesized it all into my anglophone head. It was an empowering moment for me!

Now I find myself with another mentally challenging opportunity. My friend, Beth Anne and I will be speaking at the Evangelical University in the country’s capital in and my heart’s desire is to address our audience in Spanish, however brief. As I understand it, we will be speaking to maybe 300 upper class El Salvadorian college students about purity. I will not be able to do an entire presentation in Spanish but I would love to honor the students in this small way. My ultimate intention, however, is to honor muy Salvador, (Spanish for My Savior and Rescuer) in any language and in every way.

Pray for me as I expand my brain! Muchas gracias!

Fancy Scraps

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Posted on September 25, 2008

I have been making eyeglass covers for El Salvador. I learned about this need during a Friday meeting with the Hannah’s Hands, Intl. coordinator and as soon as she left the house, I googled eyeglass covers.

To my surprise, I found a decent amount of entries for sew your own eyeglass covers along with a million other things, check it out. That’s what’s great about the Internet. I hate it when I stumble onto icky things when I am innocently surfing the Web but in this instance, I came upon a free eyeglass cover pattern. No sicko stuff! Woot!

What I really love is that I haven’t spent a penny so far. All I did was look on my shelf and in my drawers to find loads of fabric just waiting for a project. I have cotton fabric, fleece, satin flannel coming out of my ears, just ask my husband! Ok, on second thought, let’s pass on that idea.

The material has been cluttering my home for years. Some my sister Lorri gave me a long time ago, I think she bought it at a thrift shop. I have also stashed away bits of extra fabric from past projects. And, quite honestly, I have often wondered what I could do with all of it. What good could come from some of the fabric and the scraps I have collected? I haven’t had enough of some of the material to do aything useful and I’ve even toyed with throwing it out just to get rid of all the stuff. Never did I think to myself, “Hey, I’ve got an idea! I’ll go to El Salvador and I’ll use that pile of material to make eyeglass covers for impoverished villagers!”

But I guess God did and this got me thinking about my life. Do you ever do that? Wonder why you’ve gone through or are going through something? Is it just me, or do you sometimes hang onto emotional remnants or scraps of struggles you’ve experienced? Do you ever dare to think about how that stuff could find a useful purpose?

Well, as I reflect upon my life, I have collected my fair share of “material,” if you know what I mean. I have pondered and prayed, “Lord, what good can become of that? And, how are you, God, going to use that (insert sin of your choice)? It’s so ugly and worthless!”

I‘m like those scraps that have been sitting on my shelf. Like many, I have vestages of my past stuffed away. Yet, firsthand, I have seen how my Jesus has used those things for His good! In my work with teenagers, it still blows me away that I am able to share the fabric of my life and offer them hope. I am an example of what God can do with our material. Mine. Even yours.

He has used each one of those pieces and trust me, that is testimony to God’s goodness. I had no idea how that would be possible because they’re not too attractive. It excites me each time I now sew a simple eyeglass case to find the spiritual parallels in my Christian walk.

So far I have made about 20 eyeglass cases. The pile of spare material is shrinking and I am so proud of myself because they look pretty good! I feel satisfied and am in wonder. Not because of my mad sewing skills (said like Napoleon Dynamite) but rather for how the Lord is so resourceful.

“I will praise the name of the Lord, who has worked wonders for me, never again will I be shamed.” paraphrased and personalized from Joel 2:26.

What I Can Do For My Sons

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Posted on September 9, 2008

Since my son began his 47 month journey at the United States Military Academy, I have heard and read many statements from him.

“Mom, I have thrown a live grenade.”

“Ma, today I went to the gas chamber.”

“Madre, (one of his nicknames for me), I flew in a Chinook.”

From each one of those sentences I have needed a minute to recover. Those are awkward statements I never expected to read from a child of mine, especially if you knew my background. Being a mom is an adventure even when I’m not the one rappelling down a mountain or firing a rifle. And in the case of my other two OS, motherhood is equally exciting and I’m even not on the football field, or on stage, or kicking the soccer ball or trying to finish a leaf project. OY!

Lately though I’ve been especially blessed when my oldest OS has reached out and asked me for things. I’m not talking about protein bars and new undies which he has requested and I am happy to send but…

I love the other thing my son has asked for and that is for prayer.

My son had a two minute sparring match in boxing class this week. He was concerned about getting his nose broken. His nose was still sore from the previous class and I guess he likes his nose in the position and shape it’s been in for the last 18 years. While talking to him over the phone, my boy asked if I would pray for him.

Oh it was my privilege to lift my son up to the Lord! And I took the request seriously! We prayed over the phone; my DH and I prayed for him; I asked for prayer for my son on my facebook; we joined hands in prayer around the dinner table. Let me tell ya, that nose was covered in prayer! Nothing or no one was going to mess with that little nose and I’m thrilled to say that my son’s beautiful nose is still nice and straight although apparently he jacked up the other guy’s neck. I now need to pray for that young man!

Homework is also stressing him out. Last night, we got an email asking for prayer. We again petitioned the Lord to give our son a peace that passes understanding and success in accomplishing all the tasks at hand.

Peter Kreeft, author and professor at Boston College said, “I strongly suspect that if we saw all the difference even the tiniest of our prayers make, and all the people those little prayers were destined to affect, and all the consequences of those prayers down through the centuries, we would be so paralyzed with awe at the power or prayer that we would be unable to get up off our knees for the rest of our lives.”

Isn’t that an amazing perspective? I have that quote in a special scrapbook I created during a very difficult time in our family. How apropos as I learn to be the mama of a Soldier! I get to pray for my son. NOTHING can stop me. I can’t do his homework or block the punches that will come his way, literally and figuratively but this mama, above all else can pray! My boy can rest in knowing that he comes from a praying family no matter the circumstances or distances which separate us.

It is so good to know that our God considers all prayers important. I am humbled to trust in a Lord who thinks that prayers for my son’s nose are as precious as prayers for my friend who is fighting a mighty battle against cancer. I find it incredible that the same God who hears my prayers on behalf of my boy for help with homework is listening also to another mom’s prayers for complete healing of her daughter’s heart condition.

Praying is a gift that I receive and give freely. In my work, I have spoken to many hurting teenagers. Often I will tell them after hearing their heavy troubles that tonight there will be five people who hold hands around a kitchen table and lift them up to the Lord. And I mean it.

Who do you know that needs prayer? Extend that priceless privilege to others and let me know if our family can pray for you.

Pity Party Gains a New Member!

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Posted on August 8, 2008

So far, Denise, Jenn, Nancy, Sharon are coming to the Pity Party! It’s never too late to join, we’re having so much fun! Woot!

Big news, the Pity Party has a new guest of honor…my middle OS Aaron! I guess he was jealous that I was having a Pity Party, he just had to join the “celebration.” His birthday is in about 3 weeks but apparently he couldn’t wait to have some attention. Less than a day after my PP was going full swing, Aaron decided he wanted a piece of the action.

During football practice on Thursday, Aaron got his thumb stuck in a football helmet. I hate that when that happens. The thumb doubled in size and so for the second time in a day, Mark, my super duper DH, took a family member for x-rays. We had just finished eating dinner when Aaron began writhing in pain.

By going to Urgent Care on Thursday night, we assumed this was going to eliminate the need for Mark to take Aaron to the doctor today. He is behind on work because of all of my problems and interruptions. WRONG! Of course, you guess it. Mark and Aaron went to the orthopedist this morning. Urgent Care wasn’t sure if our middle OS had indeed broken his thumb so for the third time in 24 hours, Mark is carting someone to the doctor.

On Monday, he will take our OS to the hand specialist to see if he has torn two ligaments on his thumb. We are learning in a very interesting way that we are all “fearfully and wonderfully made.”

I have asked my disabled mom to help us out in the meantime. She has a knee brace, an infected toe and a host of other medical issues but praise the Lord, she was willing to come over for the next week and has been scrambling about the house doing whatever she can. We are a motley crew!

We are currently recruiting new members of our family who are ambulatory. If you’d like to be part of this dynamic team and have two working arms and legs, we’d love to hear from you! No need to even send a resume, if you can walk or hold things, you’re in! We won’t even check your references! It’s just that easy!

Can you believe it? I guess misery really does love company! In all seriousness, folks, we could use some prayers. This is stressful, depressing, not to mention, painful and I’m needing a godly perspective right now.