Author Archives: Southern Fried Encouragement

A Multitude of Sins

16 Wednesday Sep 2015

Posted by in Love Your World

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Back when my life consisted of stay-at-home wife and mothering and ministering to teenagers, there was a boy named Robert in our youth group. He was from a different high school than the other kids, and his mother made him come because she just didn’t know what to do with him anymore. She was a single mom, trying her best to raise an angry teenage son on her own. This boy hated God and flies and everything in between. All the rest of the kids were at least intimidated, and mostly scared of him. It seemed he wanted to be left alone, and they obliged his wish.

I didn’t leave him alone. I always spoke, always gave him a quick hug and told him I was happy to see him. He’d grunt and nod. That was about all I got out of him, but I figured surely he needed to know someone was glad he was there.

On trips, we always took a caravan of 15-passenger vans, and if we didn’t have enough youth workers to drive, parents would help. There were no cell phones back then. The only way to communicate was two-way radios. On our way back from camp that particular Spring, a mom driving one of the vans radioed me to say she needed help. There was a boy on her van trying to kick the back window out. I told her to pull over into a parking lot and I’d handle it.

That boy was Robert. He was about 200 pounds of muscle, and I realized right off the bat he didn’t really want to kick the window out, or it would already be shattered on the pavement.

I had 14 high schoolers on my van, and she had 14 on hers. Every one of them had eyes as big as saucers as Robert kept kicking.

“Robert, come on off the van. Let’s talk.”

“Nope.”

“Okay then, everyone else off.” Thirteen other teenagers silently slid off their seats and stood in the parking lot as I tried in vain to reason with him.

“Robert, you don’t want to kick out the window. Your mom will have to pay for it, and you know she won’t be happy.”

“I don’t care.”

“Then kick it out if it you need to. Matter of fact, I’ll pay for it myself. Obviously something has upset you pretty badly, and for some reason, kicking out a church van window will make you feel better.

But know this. If you’re trying to make me mad at you, if you’re trying to make me not like you, if you think I’ll tell you that you can’t come back anymore, it’s not working. I’m still going to want you, still going to like you, still going to want you to come back, and I’m still going to love you. So do whatcha gotta do, man. ‘Bruce Lee‘ that sucker on outta there.”

With that, I sat back, crossed my arms, and waited for his next move. Somehow, some way, the Spirit of God let me see into his heart for a split second, and I saw a hurting young man. The pain in his eyes shone through just long enough for me to have compassion, long enough for me to see through his tough guy image and get a glimpse of a young man who needed love. Unconditionally.

He looked at me like I had two heads. He couldn’t believe what he’d heard — but he stopped kicking.

“You don’t care if I kick out this window?”

“Nope.”

“You’re going to pay for it yourself?”

“Yep.”

“And you’d still want me to come back?”

“Yep. Nothing you can do will make me not want you to come back. Nothing you can do will make me not love you. So kicking out this window will be a complete waste of time, but hey, rock on with your bad self, dude.”

After a few seconds of staring at me in shock. His face broke into a smile.

“You’re a crazy lady,” he said.

I smiled back. “That’s what they tell me.”

He grinned some more and I said, “Can we head home now that you realize kicking out the window is a waste of time?” He agreed we could.

From that day on, Robert loved me back. He smiled every time he saw me. He would wrap those big arms around me and hug me hard, so hard I couldn’t breathe. When he’d get to church, he always sought me out, no matter where I was. And he never left without saying goodbye. He wasn’t much for chitchat, but he was always cordial. We never had another day’s trouble out of him.

I’d like to say I’m still close to Robert, but the truth is, he moved away and I never heard from him again. I don’t know if he ever found anyone to see though his tough as nails exterior into his heart. But this one thing I know — that day, that one day, he found out he was loved no matter how unlovely he behaved.

Oh don’t get me wrong, if MY kids had been doing that, I’d have beaten them like red headed stepchildren! They might never have seen the light of day again! But Robert didn’t need any more discipline, he didn’t need any more anger, anyone else to tell him what a bad kid he was. I imagine he’d seen and heard quite a bit of that in his 17 years. What he needed was for someone, anyone, to see he was hurting. Something on the inside of him was so painful that it had to come out.

One Scripture kept going through my mind that day. Proverbs 15:1,

A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.

What good would a shouting match have been? If I’d started yelling at Robert, do you think he would have stopped? Heck no. That window would have been toast. And I dang sure wasn’t gonna physically remove him. He was twice my size. I’m tough, but I ain’t that tough!

I Peter 4:8 says,

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

Look around you. Listen closely. Sometimes those who are the least lovable are the ones who need it the most.

The very last thing this world needs is one more angry voice. Be the soft answer that turns away wrath. A multitude of sins doesn’t stand a chance against love.

Bowls of Incense

09 Wednesday Sep 2015

Posted by in Strength for the Journey

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As a child, I vividly recall praying that I would die before my Grandma Bunton — as well as before my dog, Snoop. God didn’t answer either of those prayers. Snoop drew the short straw in a fight with another neighborhood dog when I was in the 2nd grade. Thankfully, I kept Grandma until she was 92 years old.

Grandma and Grandpa Bunton raised 11 children on a farm in eastern Guilford County, North Carolina. They had very little, but at the risk of sounding cliche, they had a lot of love. Grandma, Aunt Bet and Aunt Lillian still lived in the  “Old House,” as we call it, when state took the land for the new I-85 bypass, and it was well over 150 years old. From my earliest memories, it was my favorite place in the world.

dee old houseYou can tell a lot about my grandparents by this picture of me on the back porch. Grandma loved her flowers, Grandpa loved his shotgun, and they both loved me (and all of their dozens of grandchildren). I still have that chair in my bedroom, and there it will always stay.

Grandma had a four poster cherry bed, and every night at bedtime she would read her Bible. She read the whole thing through every year. Year after year after year. When she was finished, she’d kneel by that bed to pray. No “Now I lay me down to sleep” for her. Every time I ever spent the night with her, I would lay in bed saying, “Hurry up and finish praying, Grandma! I’m cold!” I wanted her to snuggle with me! But she would just shake her head and keep praying. Her words were muffled, but I knew what she was saying. She called every one of our names in prayer every night — every child, every grandchild, and she wasn’t about to let an impatient little girl rush her time with the Lord.

On one of those nights when I was snuggled up to her in bed, I asked her if I could have that bed when she died. She promised me that I could. And Grandma Bunton never broke her word.

She was the godliest, kindest, strongest woman I ever knew. No matter who you were, you were welcome at her table, and she was the best cook ever. Homemade biscuits at every meal. She cleaned and canned and froze and sewed and every other thing a Southern woman should know how to do. And I wanted to be just like her.

grandma bunton2

When she grew too old to get on her knees anymore, she would raise up and grip the side of the mattress to pray. She was still kneeling in her heart. Early in the morning on March 27, 1996, she sat up, took a deep breath and laid back down. She wasn’t sick, it was simply time. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the face of Jesus.

I wanted to be like her as much in my 30’s as I did as a child. In her honor, and to follow her as she followed Jesus, I set out to know the Word and be a woman of prayer. For 11 straight years, I read the Bible through, and I continue to be thankful for her example to encourage me to be a student of Scripture.

Several years after she died, I got that bed just when I needed it most. I’ve had people ask me if it bothered me that she died in it. On the contrary, it made it all the more special to me. Luke 16:22 says when Lazarus died, the angels came and carried him to Heaven. How wonderful to sleep where angels had come to carry my Grandma to Heaven!

I felt a bit lost without her, knowing that no one prayed for me like she did. What joy filled my soul when I got to Revelation 5:8 and found out there are

golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of God’s people.

Every prayer my Grandma Bunton prayed for me, and every other member of our family are still there. They are a sweet smelling aroma to the Lord, and they are yet before Him. They’re still powerful, still bringing results, still a testimony to her faithfulness and love for us. Her legacy lives on here on earth, and in Heaven, in golden bowls full of incense.

If you had a praying grandparent or parent, and they’ve gone on, be encouraged. Their prayers continue on. And if you have been afraid your own prayers were just bouncing off the ceiling, floating off into space, if you thought your deepest anguish was carried away with the wind, not true, my friend. Your heart felt hopes and pleas live on as well.

If you’re thinking, “I haven’t had anyone love me enough to pray for me that way,” you’d be wrong. One who loves you more than anyone else ever could prayed for you, over 2000 years ago! In John 17, Jesus is praying for His disciples, asking God to strengthen and protect them to do His work. Oh but praise be to God, He doesn’t stop with just them. He goes on to say in 20 and 21,

My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you.

He prayed for US — for you, for me. A very specific prayer. He wanted us to be one, not divided. He prayed that we would be FULL of joy and be protected from evil. His prayer wasn’t just for that day. His prayer lives on today in Heaven, in a bowl full of incense, with all the prayers of the saints.

In the times of my life when I’ve felt all alone in the world with no one to help me make it, reminding myself that there are bowls in Heaven that are prayers for me, prayers of those who loved me, and prayers of Jesus Himself, made me feel safe and loved. Rest your weary soul tonight and remind yourself of the same thing.

Thank You, Jesus, for the prayers of the saints, for Your prayers for all of us. Thank You that those prayers are effective even now, in bowls of incense before Your throne. May Your words for us be true — may we be One, may we be FULL of joy, and may we be protected from the evil one. In Your Name, and for Your glory.

Oh the Irony

31 Monday Aug 2015

Posted by in A Mama's Heart

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In the many years I spent in youth and college ministry, I had a lot of teenagers come through, and oh how I loved each and every one of them. Like they were my own! Although they’re all grown up and have lives and families of their own, they each will always be special to me.

Here’s a great story about one of my ministry girls, and the story is continuing to unfold. I’ve known her since she was born. Her daddy was actually my music teacher when I was young. She inherited the musical gifts of both her parents — she could sing, play, and compose. She was one of those people that oozed creativity.

When she married, I directed her wedding. And when my daughter got married, she was the photographer — did I mention how creative she is?

Little did both of us know we would walk down some similar paths. We would end up single moms, doing our best to figure out a way to make it, not understanding why things happened like they did, trying to trust that better days were coming, hanging on to our faith sometimes by a thread.

Knowing her like I do, I  wasn’t the least bit surprised to see MollyAnn Wymer’s songs, pictures, and modeling shoots. When she started posting funny and sarcastic videos (I’m especially impressed by that since I’ve got some giftings in the sarcasm area myself), I was proud. I knew the pain she’d experienced in her life, and I was thrilled to see her laughing and making others laugh.

Molly

Last Thursday night, I wrote “Hope Deferred“ about giving your dreams to God, and asking Him to either help you fulfill them, or to take them out of your heart so you don’t  become heartsick. God isn’t mean — He doesn’t want us hopeless and depressed, stuck in dead end places. His plans for us are more amazing than anything we could dream up anyway!

First thing Friday morning, Molly wrote me and said it had really spoken to her. She felt like she was stuck in a holding pattern, on the verge of something. She was waiting for God to open doors. I believe God gave her those gifts for a reason, and I prayed for those doors to open.

A few of her videos have gone viral. She’s had some offers, a few irons in the fire, but so far nothing major has really materialized. And she has five little ones who depend on her to take care of them. I completely understand the weight she feels.

As we wrote back and forth on Friday morning, Molly said, I know if I feel fear before I hit “Publish” it’s going to resonate! I just made a “guns” video…and I’m feeling it! 

Oh my . . . famous last words . . .

In the three days since then, Molly’s satirical video about guns has had nearly 13 million Facebook views, over 25,000 YouTube views and climbing. Thousands of comments — apparently some people don’t know sarcasm when it’s staring them in the face — especially when it’s Southern blonde carrying a pink gun. I was completely shocked that some people not only didn’t get Molly’s point — that the power of the gun is in the hands that hold it and it can be used for good or for evil — but some of those people were horribly mean!

Help yourself to this video, and if you like her creativity, try the rest of them as well. “Dramamine” was the first one to go viral, and it still makes me laugh!

MollyAnn Wymer’s “I had to buy protection”

My Mama bear side comes out not only when my own children are being attacked, but also when my ministry children are as well. If I’d had time, I’d’ve given a piece of my mind to all those haters! You don’t have to understand, or even like someone’s creative work, but to say the things people were saying was just brutal. I have been, however, very happy to see all the people defending Molly and trying in vain to explain to people that SHE WAS KIDDING. Evidently sarcasm requires a higher intelligence than the average viral video viewer!

All day, Molly has been on my heart and as I prayed for her, the story of Joseph in the Old Testament came to my mind. Joseph had been sold into slavery by his own brothers. He really hadn’t done anything wrong, except that he was his father’s favorite.

Years went by, and although Joseph knew he didn’t deserve the treatment he’d been given, he was still faithful to use his God-given gifts while in slavery and prison. Because he refused to give up and waller in misery (for all you non-Southerners, when you “waller”, you lay there, stay in the funk, in the pit of despair). Instead, he clawed his way up, and little by little he was promoted. The powers that be eventually noticed Joseph and his talents, and made him the highest ranking official in Egypt, second only to Pharaoh.

In the end, his brothers were starving in the midst of a national famine, and they came to get food from Joseph. They were afraid he would retaliate after what they’d done. Instead, Joseph told them in Genesis 50:20-21,

You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. So then, don’t be afraid. I will provide for you and your children.

God used the abuse of others to propel Joseph to blessing beyond measure. And he in turn used it to bless others.

I won’t share the details, but know this. All the haters that left brutally horrible comments to Molly have done nothing but serve to promote her. I look forward to seeing what doors this will open for her and enable her to provide wonderfully for her children! It’s going to be fun to watch. Go, MollyAnn, be the Southern woman voice of sarcasm and satire!

Be encouraged, dear friend, if you’ve got some haters too. God will do for us what He did for Joseph. How good is the Lord to turn what people do to hurt us, and use it for our favor? To actually promote us to our destiny? That puts a new spin on it, doesn’t it?

Thank You, Jesus, for Molly’s haters, and thank You for all of ours as well. You’re the only One big enough to use mean people to give us the blessings beyond measure. Well played, Lord, well played.

Hope Deferred

27 Thursday Aug 2015

Posted by in Strength for the Journey

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Ever felt hopeless and heartsick? The two are very closely related. Matter of fact, I submit to you that when we feel heartsick, it’s BECAUSE we are hopeless. We are afraid our circumstances won’t get better than they are in this moment, and that thought is almost too much to bear.

Hope is a wonderful thing. Without it, we are all doomed to live a life full of depression and anxiety. When you have hope, you can accomplish anything! You can get up, suit up and show up and work at whatever task is at hand. When we feel hopeless, it’s hard to find the motivation to do much of anything.

There is a time and place to say, “Don’t give up hope! Keep trying!” Sometimes you need to keep going to that dead end job because you’re learning life lessons, building your resume. Don’t quit school even though it’s hard! Don’t give up on your marriage when the road is bumpy!

But I say there’s another side to that coin. When you continue to hope for something that is NOT going to happen, praying for a situation that is NEVER going to get better, THAT is when you become hopeless, depressed, full of anxiety and fear. Sometimes it’s okay to walk away from a bad situation.

Proverbs 13:12 says,

Hope deferred makes the heart sick.

In other words, not getting what you want for what seems like forever makes you feel sick. Hopelessness affects you not just emotionally and psychologically, but also physically and spiritually.

You don’t have to be living in complete anxiety and fear to be hopeless. Maybe your life is less than what you want it to be. Maybe you’re watching your dreams go by, you’re stuck in a dead end job, you want something more, but you don’t think you can have it. You want to go back to school, change careers, but you’re afraid you’re too old or you can’t do it.

You can be hopeless in mediocrity, even if you’re not in complete misery.

To encourage you, I’ll share a story about our oldest daughter, Lindsey and her husband, Daniel.

One night Todd and I were taking them to dinner. All during the meal, Lindsey and Dan both were talking about how unhappy they were living here in central NC. It was just plain depressing for them. They love the mountains, they hate the heat, they miss his brother, sister in law and nieces who live in Alaska. They had visited them a while back, and they loved it, and Lindsey has wonderful memories of us living there when she was little. She actually LOVES cold weather (hard to believe she’s mine, isn’t it?!?!).

Todd finally said, “Then why do you live here? You’re young. You have no house payment, no kids yet. You’re a nurse, Lindsey, and you can work anywhere. Dan, you want to be a PA and if there is a good PA school in Alaska, then why don’t you go? Live where you want to live! Be happy!”

A couple of days later, Lindsey called me and said, “Mom, Dan and I really believe the Holy Spirit spoke to us through Todd. We want to move to Alaska!”

And with that, the wheels were set in motion. Within a couple months, they were packed up and made an amazing memory, camping all the way to Palmer, Alaska, seeing sights most of us only see in pictures. They both got fantastic jobs in their fields and they’ve living an adventure every minute! What a blessing to go live their dreams!

I suppose most Mamas would have kicked Todd under the table — are you kidding me?! You’re encouraging our daughter to move 5000 miles away from us!?!? But I agreed with him, as much as it hurt me to see them go. I love them enough to want them to be happy. I had a good cry saying goodbye, but I never doubted once this was the right path for them.

 leaving for AK

They need to be where they will prosper and thrive. What Mama wouldn’t be thrilled to see her children as happy as Lindsey and Dan are now?

lindsey dan AK

We’ve told all our kids that same thing. Live your dreams! Go where you want to go! See what you want to see! Live where you want to live! Enjoy life to the FULL! Don’t waste it doing what you don’t want to do every day!

My goodness, people, God isn’t mean! He doesn’t get pleasure out of watching us let our dreams die and fade away!

Here’s some good advice for you if you’ve got a dream of something better, or at least different, than what you’re living now. Ask God to help you bring that dream to pass, show you what doors to knock on, what path to take, and the strength to not give up until it happens!

OR, and this is a huge OR, if it’s NOT God’s best for you, if He has something better or different than what you have in mind, ask Him to take it out of your heart.

Now that I think of it, I need to pray that prayer myself! So why don’t we pray it together? As I always say when I ask people to pray with me, Jesus said when two or more agree according to His will, He grants their requests!

Lord Jesus, God of all hope, we believe You have mighty, wonderful and amazing plans for us. Plans to make our joy complete. We ask that our hearts and plans be in line with Yours, because we know that Yours are better than we could ever ask or imagine! If there is any dream in our hearts that isn’t Your best for us, that isn’t in Your plan and Your will, please help us let it go. Simply take it out our our hearts. We give all our hopes, dreams, and plans to You, knowing that You and You alone can bring the best to pass. Give us the direction and help us walk in the right path, to chase dreams You have placed in our hearts! We believe in You, Lord. Help our unbelief. Fill our hearts with Your hope! And when people see us living prosperous and joy filled lives, may we be careful to give You all the glory!

In the mighty and powerful Name of Jesus we pray, amen and amen!

Attitude of Forgiveness

20 Thursday Aug 2015

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A few years back, someone did some painful and undeserved things to me at church. Since the offense was public, the pressure was on for him to make it right with me. Here’s how it went:

Church Man: So you know that thing that you’re upset about?

Me: Yes. 

Church Man: Well, you’re just going to have to forgive me and move on. You don’t have a choice because that’s what the Bible says to do.

And with that, he walked off. To this day, that’s the only conversation he and I have ever had about it.

I’ve had better apologies . . .

At that point, I had two choices:

  1. I could hold on to that hurt and refuse to forgive him.
  2. I could let it go.

Let’s play that tape to the end and see what the outcomes might be.

What would have happened to ME if I had hung on to it? Bitterness, anger, resentment, and unforgiveness hardens the heart. It causes depression, anxiety, and a host of mental, physical and psychological illnesses. It changes your outlook on life and makes you an all around nasty person.

Well, that’s not attractive at all.

What would have happened to HIM if I had held on to it? What effect would what I was thinking and feeling have had on him?

Absolutely nothing.

He doesn’t know if I held on to it or not. I don’t know his heart, but he probably hasn’t lost sleep over it. So why in the WORLD would I choose to harm MYSELF over something he did?

I love this quote about harboring unforgiveness:

Refusing to forgive someone is like drinking poison and waiting for THEM to die.

Refusing to forgive the Church Man wouldn’t have hurt him. It would have hurt ME. And that’s why God wants us to forgive. He doesn’t want us to be hurt any more than we already have been.

Here are a few things I’ve learned about forgiveness:

  1.  It is NOT approval of what the person did to you. In the many years I spent in ministry, I heard some horrific stories. Rape, incest, abuse, murder — things that made what the Church Man did to me seem like a Sunday drive. If you forgive something as horrible as those things, it does NOT mean the person should go unpunished. Heck no, those people should have severe consequences to their actions. But forgiving them means you don’t continue to let the act hurt you even more than it already has.
  2. It’s not forgetting. Remember the old saying, “Forgive and forget?” I think that’s most likely impossible. I still remember the Church Man’s offense — but I don’t stew on it. Life is too short for that.
  3. It’s not being a doormat. It’s possible to forgive someone while not letting them do the same thing to you again. You can and should set healthy boundaries. Forgiving someone who hurts you doesn’t mean you should stand there and take the next punch.
  4. It’s not weakness. On the contrary, it takes a very strong person to let go of offense. I have a MUCH harder time if someone hurts someone I love. I can forgive an offense towards me far more easily.
  5. It’s not necessarily reconciliation. Forgiveness doesn’t mean you have to go on vacation with them!
  6. It’s not the result of an apology. Many times an apology never comes. Sometimes the offender has died and there is no chance of an apology anyway. It’s easier to forgive when someone is sitting in sackcloth and ashes and begging our forgiveness. It isn’t so easy when they never even say they’re sorry.
  7. It’s setting the offender free in your mind.Why in the world continue to live in that misery? There are much more constructive things to spend your time thinking about, things that improve your life.
  8. It’s choosing not to punish them. There are few things more destructive in a relationship than when someone punishes every wrongdoing.

Forgiveness is an attitude. It’s a way of life for me. I forgive because I want God to forgive ME. Matthew 6:14-15 says,

For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your Heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do NOT forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.

I forgive because I truly believe you get what you give. I want people to forgive ME when I hurt them, I want them to show mercy and grace to me, and if I WANT it, I have to GIVE it. Treat people the way you want to be treated.

Nowadays you hear the word “karma” thrown around a lot. I’ve heard it said that karma isn’t a Biblical idea. Maybe not, but it’s at least pretty dang close. Galatians 6:7 says,

A man reaps what he sows.

If I WANT forgiveness, mercy and grace, I had better be giving it.

I forgive because God will make sure all things are made right in the end. He’s the God of justice. If there are wrongs to be made right, I can’t make it happen like He can.

At its root, unforgiveness is really distrust of God.

When we want revenge, when we want to punish, when we refuse to forgive, it’s because we don’t trust God to make all things work for our good. We are putting ourselves in God’s place. Rest assured, He’s watching, He’s protecting, He’s got it under control, much better than we ever could. He said vengeance is His, and He will handle it in His time.

In the times of my life where I feel justice isn’t being served, I’m being wronged! Life isn’t fair! Lord, the wicked prosper! I remind myself that God is big enough. I love this quote:

In the end it will be okay. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.

Let it go, stop holding on to things that hurt you. Don’t let that mean person live rent free in your head! Pour out that cup of Roundup. Don’t drink the poison. Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself.

Let Nothing Be Wasted

12 Wednesday Aug 2015

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A few days ago, we packed up our last little chickadee and moved her to college. We’re now officially Empty Nesters, and I am not digging it. Somebody send a teenager or two to my house!!

Last night, I stood in her room and just looked around. There were no clothes on the floor, no homework spread out on the bed, or empty glass of water on the nightstand. Next week when classes start, I won’t walk up the steps and into this room to say, “Wake up, sweetheart. Time to get ready for school.” No, she will now get up on her own.

One minute they were babies, starting kindergarten. Now suddenly they’re all either in college or already graduated. I remember when Lindsey was born and we brought her home from the hospital, my Daddy said, “Hold her close. This time next week she’ll be graduating from high school.” Oh how right you were, Daddy. How can this have happened so very quickly?

I struggle with fear that I may not have done enough, or did the wrong things in the time I had with them. I only had them for a short window to care for them, nurture them, give them what they need to face this cruel world. Was it enough? Did I waste what little time I had?

There is only one miracle Jesus performed that is told in all four Gospels — the feeding of the 5000.  The crowds had come to hear Jesus teach, and He was in tune with their needs. The people were hungry, so He told His disciples to feed them.

But Lord, where will we get food to feed that many? All we have is one little boy’s lunch of five loaves and two small fish.

In the little boy’s hands, five loaves and two fish could feed him and maybe his small family one meal. But five loaves and two fish are enough to feed 5000 when they’re in the hands of Jesus. More than enough, actually. There were twelve baskets left over.

What does this miracle have to do with fear of wasting what precious time I had with my children? One small little phrase. It jumped off the page at me as I was reading the passage, and it gave me great comfort. John records in Chapter 6, verse 12:

 . . . He said to His disciples, “Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted.”

Why save those baskets? I mean, everyone had a belly full. It wasn’t like they could vacuum seal the fish and put them in the freezer. Were they taking it to the local homeless shelter? Why would Jesus tell them to gather all the pieces up instead of just leaving it all?

Because nothing is wasted when you give it to Jesus. 

Tears blurred my vision as I stared at that verse in my Bible. God continues to comfort me that my time with my children wasn’t wasted.  As I’ve shared in earlier blogs, I dedicated them to the Lord before they were born, and through all my mistakes and shortcomings as their mother, I have done the best I could.

Like the little boy with five loaves and two fish, I handed the Lord my babies, and said, “Here they are. They’re all I’ve got. Do with them what only You can do.” See, in my hands, I couldn’t do much more for my children than feed and clothe them, teach them the basics of survival. But in God’s hands, they can make a life, an abundant life, exceedingly abundantly more than I can ask or imagine.

Although I didn’t get my step-children until they were young teens, they’ve been placed in the same capable hands of a loving Father as I placed the three born to me. It’s never too late to hand your children to Jesus. He will do much more with them than we ever could, so much that there will be overflowing life to spare.

Yes, the house is deafeningly quiet. But I’ve either talked on the phone or texted with all five of them today. Thank God for technology. Here they are the day our family was beautifully blended into one. Be still my heart!

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A Mama’s prayer is on my heart tonight. You can pray this prayer for your children along with me if you’d like. If you don’t have children, will you agree with me about our children as we pray? Jesus said if two or more agree according to His will, He would grant their request. I’ll agree with you about your children, too, no matter if they’re babies or all grown up.

Precious Lord Jesus, You have fearfully and wonderfully made each one of our children. You entrusted them into our hands for a precious little while, and now too quickly, they’re grown. We aren’t there to make sure they’re home safely, or that they get off to school and work on time. We can’t be there with them, but You O Lord, You are always there. May Your strong arms hold them as they sleep, and may they feel confidently loved beyond measure.

We thank You that You love them even more than we do. As hard as we try, we know we have failed them in so many ways. We are grateful that our efforts, as feeble and inadequate as they may be, are never wasted in Your economy. Multiply all our love, all Your love, all the prayers for their success, until there are baskets and baskets leftover!

We ask You to send Your Holy Spirit to guide each one of them in their choices and let Your love fill their hearts with joy and peace. Give them the strength they need to go about their work, whether it’s with their jobs or with their studies, and grant them success. Put those in their paths to guide them in paths of righteousness, and use them to bless others. Protect them from the evil one, and may their destinies be fulfilled for Your glory.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, that You will let nothing be wasted.

In the precious Name of Jesus, we pray. Amen and amen.

Picnic Table Evangelists

05 Wednesday Aug 2015

Posted by in Love Your World

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When I was in college at Arizona State University, I was lost in a crowd of tens of thousands of students. My senior year we won the Rose Bowl, and Rolling Stone magazine said we were the best college campus to get a tan. Quite a different life for this country girl from Pleasant Garden, NC where we had one stoplight, and it wasn’t even at an intersection!

It’s very hot in Arizona in August. When I say hot, I mean temps nearing 120 degrees in the shade. I remember students frying eggs on the hoods of their cars! The hottest place on campus was called the Commons. It was in the center of everything — all concrete, no shade.

One day as I was hurrying through the Commons to get to class, I heard someone yelling. I looked up to see a man and woman standing on a picnic table in sweltering heat. He had on long sleeves and long pants. She was wearing a dress that went from her chin to the tips of her toes and fingers. They were sweating bullets.

They were angry, scowling, and waving Bibles in the air, screaming at everyone walking by that we were sinners bound for Hell because we were students at ASU. You see, our mascot was the Sun Devil, and therefore, our campus was evil. Oh and because we were wearing shorts and short sleeves — that, too.

I was stunned as he looked right at me and yelled, “WHORE!” Whoa, Nelly. Say what?  He wasn’t just calling me a nasty name. Every girl who walked past in shorts or short sleeves was a “whore,” and every boy was a “whoremonger.” (When’s the last time you heard someone say that word?!!?)

The crowd was incensed. People were yelling back at them, and many braved the heat and sun to stand and debate them. I didn’t. I just walked away, sad and burdened, ashamed that those people would represent God in such a hateful way. I wanted to shout, “Don’t judge all Christians by these people!” but I realized I’d be just one more person yelling.

In the next edition of our school newspaper, I was even more saddened to read letters students had written about the Picnic Table Evangelists, all saying, “This is why I’ll never be a Christian.” That couple did far more to damage the Kingdom than to advance it at ASU, I’m afraid. Not one person wrote in to say, “Thankfully someone told me I was a whoremonger, and that made me want to know Jesus!” I wrote in as well, desperate to defend a loving God, but my letter was lost in a sea of anger left in their wake.

After I graduated in 1987, we moved to Virginia. The TV was on in the other room one night as I was cooking dinner. From the kitchen, I heard someone yelling, “WHORES! WHOREMONGERS!” I ran into the living room, already sure of who I’d see as Sally Jesse Raphael’s guests. None other than the Picnic Table Evangelists. 

They spewed their venom, just like they did the first time I saw them. There were some Christians in the audience who tried in vain to say that’s NOT how God is, but they were shot down.

The Picnic Table Evangelists neglected to mention a Savior who loved the world so much He would die for them, or any word of His forgiveness, kindness, grace or mercy. They just screamed and pronounced everyone as sinners bound for Hell.

Finally, Sally Jesse Raphael said, “Never have I said this to a guest, but you are never welcomed back on my show. You are the meanest people I’ve ever met, and if you’re what Christians are, I don’t want to be one.” The Picnic Table Evangelists said, “Good! We won’t want to be around you because you’re going to Hell!”

Folks, let me tell you something. The most dangerous people in the world are the ones who are angry, dogmatic, convinced they are right, everyone else is wrong, and worst of all, that God is on their side. There is no arguing, no convincing, no amicable discussion with a person who thinks God is supporting their agenda. The truth is, people like that flew planes into the World Trade Center.

I agree that God is a holy and just God, and I believe there will be a day of reckoning. Thankfully, we have an Advocate to defend us, and forgiveness, grace, atonement and mercy were made readily available to all at the Cross. To quote the great Billy Graham,

It is the Holy Spirit’s job to convict, God’s job to judge, and my job to love.

Maybe you’re not as mean and angry as the Picnic Table Evangelists — I sure hope not! There are many times we need to defend the weak and defenseless, times to speak up. And believe me, I do! But we must ALWAYS speak the truth in LOVE. Whatever we need to say, we can say it with kindness. As the old saying goes, no one cares what we know until they know that we care. 

All you have to do is scroll through your Facebook newsfeed to see every opinion all over the map. Everyone is convinced they’re right and anyone who opposes them are idiots! It’s exhausting at best. We must remember the same Jesus who loved and died for disabled veterans, babies, animal foster families, and the candidate for President you support, also died for the Picnic Table Evangelists, abortionists, LGBTQ people, cop killers, people who drink alcohol, divorced people (that’s me), and the candidate for President you can’t stand. God’s love transcends the latest media hype, and it reaches to what you consider the lowest depths of humanity.

I’ve had many desks in many offices over years, but this one framed quote has remained to remind me of my life’s mission every day:

All that matters is God and people. My life’s desire — to serve them both in the most effective way possible. To submit my weaknesses to a God without limitations, knowing as an end result, they become my greatest strengths, because in those areas I can’t rely on my “pieced together inadequacy” but rather on the perfection of His adequacy. In His sovereignty. His will. His plan. His timing. His love.” — Libba Maddrey

May we live that out with every person in our paths. God help us love people, today and every day, whoever they are. In the end, that’s all that matters.

Heaven’s Bottling Room

29 Wednesday Jul 2015

Posted by in Strength for the Journey

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My Aunt Bet was my daddy’s sister. She never married, never had children, never left home. That may or may not have been because of her Magnum P.I. mustache . . . .

All I know is she loved us — each one of her brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews. She’s been gone since 2012, and I still miss her so bad it hurts.

She kept everything. And I mean everything. One day I convinced her to let me throw away sale papers from years past. I said, “Bet, come on. Those things aren’t on sale now. Matter of fact, I’m pretty sure they don’t even MAKE some of this stuff anymore.” She glared at me and reluctantly agreed to let me throw them away, along with some junk mail from 1997.

After I left, my cousin John called me and said, “She’s outside going through the trash can, getting all those sale papers back out, fussing about you the whole time.” Sigh. There was nothing anyone could do. She was a hoarder, and she never changed.

Although she kept a bunch of junk only important to her, she also kept things that are of value to those of us left behind. Treasures such as my Grandpa Bunton’s wallet, exactly the way he left it the day he died in 1973, and my Uncle Howard’s letters from Germany in WWII.

(We also found someone’s ponytail. Yes, actual real hair. We have no idea who’s it was, or why she’d keep it. Come to think of it . . . .maybe its a clue about why Bet also felt so attached to her mustache that she refused to shave or wax it, but I digress . . . )

I’m a sucker for sentiment, too. I’m not a hoarder, but I have some boxes of my kids’ things from when they were growing up. Report cards, stuffed animals, homemade Mother’s Day gifts. Lindsey’s beloved Big Bird from her Nanny. Kaitlyn’s Lee Middleton doll that looks like her. Daniel’s one last shred of the cloth diaper he used to hold when he sucked his thumb (only his right thumb. He never sucked his left thumb). The blankets their Grandma Bunton made them when they were born. Birthday cards from their great grandma Bare.

Nothing in there means anything to anyone else but us. If my kids ever go through those boxes, I’m sure their minds will flood with memories at the sight of those things as well. They may actually even decide to keep some of it for themselves when I’m gone.

However, there is one thing in those packed away boxes that only means something to me. You might think its gross, but here goes . . .

I kept their bellybuttons when they fell off.

Those little dried up pieces of their umbilical cords that looked like raisins? Yep, no lie — kept ’em in ziplock baggies. Why would I do that, you ask? Why would I save what is essentially a SCAB?!

Because it was the one thing that belonged to both of us. It was my connection to them. It was how my body nourished their bodies. They don’t remember it. They didn’t even know I was there, holding them next to my heart, taking better care of them than I ever would the rest of their lives. I was never closer to them than when they were in my womb. No one but me would love them enough to save something no one else would possibly want!

(Okay, maybe I’m more like Bet than I think . . . if I ever decide to rock a mustache, please hold me down and WAX THAT PUPPY!)

When I die, my children aren’t going to fight over who gets to keep all the dried up umbilical cords. I’m the only one in the entire world who will ever pick up that bag and be moved by its value. The umbilical cords won’t be passed on to the next generation. My grandchildren won’t be telling their grandchildren, “This was your great grandmother Kaitlyn’s bellybutton! Here is your inheritance! Protect it at all costs!” 

Think what you want, but I’m not ashamed! Matter of fact, I’ve got some pretty good company. Look what God saves from His children. David said in Psalm 56:8,

You keep track of all my sorrows.
    You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
    You have recorded each one in your book.

Let that sink in a minute . . . .

He has a BOTTLE with YOUR NAME on it, and it has every tear you’ve ever cried. Every time you felt alone, like no one knew your private pain, God was and is keeping track of your broken heart. Every time you put on a happy face for the rest of the world, but inside you’re dying, God is writing it down in His book. It matters to Him.

In my mind’s eye, I imagine a room in Heaven full of bottles. Each bottle has a different name on it. A bottle for all my tears, and a bottle for all your tears. Some bottles are more full than others. But they’re all there. None is lost.

Why would God save our tears? No one else would care. Nobody in Heaven will ever pick up a bottle with loving memories — because they weren’t there to see each tear fall. Bottles of tears would never matter to anyone but the One who made you, the One who loves you the most.  No one but God would love us enough to save something no one else would possibly want!

And why would He save tears? Why not something else? What’s special about them? It’s His connection to you. Psalm 34:18 says,

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
    and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

He’s never closer to you than when your heart is broken. Even if you were oblivious to it, He was close. He was meeting all your needs, just like a baby in the womb is being fully and completely cared for by his mother. God was taking care of you when you needed it the most, even though you might not have known it.

When our spirits are crushed, when we cry, when we are full of sorrow and anguish, God cares. He doesn’t turn a blind eye. He is close enough to catch every tear we’ve ever cried. And He saves them. In a bottle that belongs only to Him.

Chew on this a while, let it invade your soul:

You’re so loved, so incredibly special, that the God of the Universe keeps all your tears in a bottle.

Made whole again

23 Thursday Jul 2015

Posted by in Strength for the Journey

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Somewhere in the latter part of 2010, I found myself content most days. Not in the valley, but not on a mountain top. Life in the middle ain’t such a bad thing. However, I had to be careful not to let something make me cry. Once the tears started, I couldn’t seem to make them stop. As long as I didn’t think about the past too much, about lost hopes and dreams, I could function.

Take for example the night Lindsey thought it would be a good idea to watch Disney’s “Up”. You know, the movie about the couple growing old together and chasing their dreams? As it turns out, not such a good idea. I wept in the fetal position on the couch for an extended period of time. Not quite a hissy fit, but heavy waterworks, nonetheless.

When things like that happened, I was painfully aware I still had deep wounds in places only God could fix. I accepted my healing would take more time, and I was content to live a quiet accountant’s life in rural Virginia, providing an education for my kids.

At Liberty University, there is convocation three times a week — affectionately known as “Convo.” On Wednesday’s, everyone goes. Every student, every faculty member, every employee. The entire campus shuts down. I loved it! I couldn’t believe I was getting paid to hear the best preachers and motivational speakers in the country. I soaked it up every week.

At this particular convo, a man spoke about his ministry of rescuing people from human trafficking, both in America and all over the world. He showed pictures of children being set free from sweatshops and women walking out of brothels, prisoners of the sex trade. Yep, this guy was doing a lot of good things. Very informational! Worthy of support! I didn’t feel it had any real relevance or connection in my life, but I was glad to know someone was called to do it.

He quoted Exodus, and talked of God’s faithfulness in freeing His children from slavery in Egypt. This guy was a modern day Moses, confronting evil captors like they were Pharaoh!

“This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘Let my people go . . . 

Then he said — and I can still hear his words so clearly . . .

“Prison isn’t always a jail cell or forced slavery. You can be in prison in your own heart, in your own mind, in your own home.

“Somewhere in this audience there is a single mom who feels unworthy, guilty. You feel ‘less than,’ not part of the Body of Christ, useless and disqualified, afraid of what people think. God knows your heart. He knows what your family has been through.

“Do you think He loves the Israelites more than He loves you? Are you less worthy of rescue than they were?

“Let me tell you something. God is STILL in the redemption business. He’s still setting captives free, still breaking heavy chains of bondage. Let Him make you whole again.“

Instantly, I went from a position of, “This is a great ministry. Such a blessing for those people who need rescue!” to a position of, “Wait . . . what? Is he talking to me?!”

Ever have one of those moments? When you feel like you’re the only person in a room (in this case, a room of 10,000 people), and the speaker is talking just to you? When you sit straight up and look around to see if anyone else is having this out of body experience as well?

Could it be? Did God love me as much as He loved the Israelites?

I sort of believed I DESERVED to live with guilt and shame. Shouldn’t I be ashamed of being divorced? God had already spoken to my friend Karen that He was healing me. I believed that. But could I forgive myself of a failed marriage? Could I not only be healed, but made WHOLE again?

In that moment, I felt a heavy weight lift off my body, off my heart, off my mind. No, I couldn’t go back and fix my broken family. But I COULD start over. I set my mind in that Convo, that very day, that I was going to walk in that freedom — to drop the chains that had me bound. Sitting there, I realized forgiving myself was an essential part of my healing, to not just exist, but MADE WHOLE AGAIN.

Before anyone gets their panties in a wad, slow your roll. In no way am I advocating divorce, and neither was the speaker that day, whoever he was. On the contrary, I wouldn’t wish divorce on my worst enemy. I believe in marriage. I believe in keeping your vows and making it work when the road is hard. As happy as Todd and I are, as much as we love each other, we both wish we could have had intact, healthy, happy families for our children. We wish we weren’t divorced. But we’re making the most of the cards we’ve been dealt instead of being held captive by the past.

If you’re looking at divorce in your rear view mirror (or you know someone who is!), let me share a few tidbits of encouragement that I learned from my journey.

  • Although God hates divorce, He loves divorced people.
  • Jesus didn’t die for marriage. He died for the individual. God sees you as His child, His beloved. You aren’t less important to Him now that you’re single again!
  • Don’t soothe your pain with another human being. Jumping into a relationship slows the healing process. No human being can fix your broken heart — only God can. I’m thankful for my years of being single. It freed me from distraction!
  • Forgive the pain! Let it go! Give up trying to improve your past!
  • If you have children, PAY ATTENTION TO THEM. They’ve never needed you more. They need to know you’ll never leave them. Provide as much stability as you possibly can. Prioritize their health and healing.

And most importantly,

  • You aren’t disqualified from use in God’s kingdom. If you’ve survived the trauma of divorce, you can relate. Comfort them that God still has a plan for their good, for their success! Be positive and encouraging. No one wants to be around negativity!

Lest you think this post doesn’t pertain to you because you’re not divorced, hold up! Your prison cell might be one of addiction, fear, unforgiveness, anger, bitterness, anxiety or defeat. Go back and insert your presenting problem into each one of those bullet statements, and find encouragement to start where you are, right where you sit, to walk in FREEDOM and FORGIVENESS. Look around you and say, “This looks like a good place to start.” God loves you as much as He loves the Israelites. You, too, can be made whole again.

Speak life

17 Friday Jul 2015

Posted by in Strength for the Journey

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My extended family has always been very close. We cousins were raised more like siblings. We even called each other brother/cuz and sister/cuz. My cousins continue to mean the world to me.

In March of 2010, my cousin Brad got sick. I mean, really, really sick. He was hospitalized with double pneumonia, blood clots in both pulmonary arteries and both legs. He had Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome and a machine breathed for him for days and days. He was given less than a .00001% chance of survival. Seven times they called in the family to say goodbye. Seven times he shocked the world and survived.

My cousin Steve suggested I start writing a CaringBridge about Brad because I was having a hard time keeping family and friends informed of his condition. I agreed because I knew we needed people praying. The only hope Brad had was for God to do a miracle.

Over the course of Brad’s several month roller coaster ride stay in ICU, the Step Down Unit, and finally back home, people logged in to read his story over 396,000 times. It truly is an incredible story, and if you care to, you can read all about it at this link:

Brad Reid’s CaringBridge

Even Brad’s doctors say he is a miracle.  He is not unscathed.  He continues to deal with the aftermath of that trauma, but he is still with us, and I’m eternally grateful! I love you, Bradley Reid!

During those intense months, I burned up the road in between Lynchburg and Moses Cone Hospital in Greensboro to stand vigil by his bed, sit with my family, or to say a heartbroken goodbye when we thought he was going to die. Life was all about Brad for my family during those months.

That was okay with me because I was already in the autopilot mode anyway. I had learned to just think about my kids every day, and nothing much else, to simply put one foot in front of the other. At one time I begged God to rescue me, and He had moved me into a place of quiet existence. I wasn’t thriving, but I wasn’t dying. Treading water felt so much better than drowning that I didn’t ask for more.

People were emailing me constantly about Brad, many complete strangers, telling me how they were praying for him, and how amazed they were at God’s healing hand. One day, however, I got one that wasn’t about Brad. It was about me.

Karen was a friend to both me and Brad, and she said when she was praying, the Holy Spirit told her He wasn’t just healing Brad, He was healing me. I was floored.  Healing me? I thought I’d been healed all I was going to be. I wasn’t filled with anxiety every day anymore. Wasn’t that enough? It wasn’t much, but it was dang sure better than the Valley of the Shadow of Death!

I gave my testimony about what God did through writing that CaringBridge for Brad if you’d like to watch it, too:

Dee’s YouTube Testimony

You see, I thought I was unworthy of being truly happy. Life abundant was something I used to want, but I was now disqualified. I thought I was finished with teaching, helping people, and ministry in general. The call I once felt was lost to me. I accepted that I was now useless to the kingdom. My life had ended badly. How could I be of any real service?

I didn’t realize it was a lie from Satan.

As I continued to write Brad’s CaringBridge, God began to give me words to encourage people. I went from just updating about Brad’s condition to making Biblical application and actually teaching again. No, I didn’t have a Sunday School audience anymore, but I had an internet audience. And I decided to be faithful to that.

The prophet Ezekiel looked out and saw a valley of dry bones in Ezekiel 37. God asked him,

“Can these dry bones live?”

Ezekiel said, “Only You know, Lord.” God told Ezekiel to speak to the dry bones, and they would live. Ezekiel spoke, and God brought new life to the dry bones, muscles and tendons. Once dead bones lived again by the spoken word. Folks, the power of life and death are in your words.  Be VERY careful how you use them.

Karen was faithful to speak life into my dry bones. I’m alive again, and I didn’t realize I was still dead! Look around you. You are surrounded by dead bones. I say to you, SPEAK LIFE every chance you get!

Friend, your life isn’t over. You can be a blessing to everyone around you. God isn’t finished with you! I’m 100% sure of that, and you know how I know? Because there is still breath in your lungs. As long as you’re alive, you’re still useful to the kingdom of God. Take that gift and pass it on. Speak life to someone else today. You will never know the ripple effect of that one kind gesture this side of eternity!

I went back and read Karen’s email for the first time in five years today. All over again, I’m crying. These are her exact words:

When Brad is well and at home you must continue to write- it is a blessing and many of us are encouraged and brought closer in our daily walk through your devotions. 

Well Karen, it’s only taken me five years, but better late than never. Thank you for speaking life to these dry bones.