This - Jennifer Miller

I am a season of "this"... 

There is this one thing... this one struggle that has my mind's attention almost all day every day.  I have to battle against letting this thing ruin moods, moments, days... and even weeks.  Right now, because of this I am most certainly a fun suck at any gathering.  I feel captive... to all the behaviors and the effects of this thing.

I cling to scripture and its promises ... but there seems to be no relief to my constant pleading with the Lord to resolve this situation.  I have had anger... followed by a renewal to see it as an opportunity for refinement and growth... only to slide into a pit of sadness.  I am usually one breath away from tears when this topic comes up. 

Recently, in Pastor Jeff's sermon, he used a scripture that had a word that jumped right out at me...
 

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. 
With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.         Ephesians 6:18

With this in mind -- when the situation which happens to almost certainly be on my mind, is on my mind... I should be alert and keep on praying.  Alert my mind that the battle I am waging is not against flesh and blood... it is about surrendering my thoughts and control to the Lord and His timing. Then I must keep on praying.

In a recent quiet time, I was reading John 9... where the disciples were asking why a man had been blind since birth... 

 ² His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, 
that he was born blind?”  
³ “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus,  

“but this happened so the power of God could be seen"

John 9:2-3

I couldn't read farther... "this happened"...  there was that word... this. I personalized it immediately and saw the story as if it were addressing my this. I take a small measure of comfort that like me, the disciples were questioning Jesus - they wanted to know why this was happening.  And there was the answer to my why ....

 "this happened so the power of God could be seen". 

In this particular story, Jesus showed his power immediately and tangibly by healing the blind man ... but I realize that may not be the outcome for my "this" here on Earth (enter a big gulp and rolling waves of panic).  But my prayer is that I will allow the Lord to use this situation to make much of Him.  That in my weakness He will be my strength.  Will it take away the hurt - the sting and sadness? Nope.  Am I called to a life without these things - not yet.  So I must trust Him that during this season of life He will be my strength.  Through relying on that strength I will be able to make much of Him.  

I am praying towards being able to say "it is more about Your glory than my comfort".  My confession is that I am not there yet.

Maybe you are in a season of struggle... whatever your "this" is... He wants to show His power through it. 

Whispers In The Mundane: Hearing God in Unlikely Places - Ashley Qualley

A couple months ago, summer did not so much fade away as it did come to a screeching halt. My lazy days at the pool with the kids were quickly traded in for trips to the store for school supplies and new clothes. I was on the cusp of having a brand spank'n new kindergarten kid, a part-time job, and new teaching gig. Every exciting thing felt thrown at me all at once and I walked a fine line between happy and crazy tears. But as is the case for many women, I'd brought much of the busy on myself.

"Yes, I want to step back into the working world! Sure! I can serve in that department. They're taking applications? I'm in!"

"No" isn't a word I lay down very often, partly because I don't want to miss out on an opportunity. I've got this one life! I also don't want to admit that I'm just not enough person to do ALL THE THINGS. Who's comfortable explaining that they can only give of themselves so much before they turn into a holy terror? (If you are this person, I'd like to shake your hand. I'm a wimp.)

While wasting time meant for acquiring the infamous wide-rule notebooks, I was getting lost on Instagram. I stumbled across a friend's pictures of a coffee mug and book sitting on a desk. The desk faced a window overlooking a lovely backyard. The whole setup was so serene. I just wanted to climb into the picture and hide out for a few days. These types of photos are a dime a dozen on social media. We all want to show off our little slice of heaven. But what caught me was her caption.

#theholymundane

The phrase struck a chord with me. How often do we wish for a break in the rush of life? We promise ourselves when the day winds down or when we stumble upon a quiet moment, we'll carve out some rest and rejuvenation with our heavenly Father. This can add up to a lot of empty promises and a frazzled spirit.

I love the story of Elijah in 1 Kings. Elijah is pleading with the Lord after the Israelites have killed all of the prophets and are after him. The Lord has Elijah stand on a mountain while a great wind, then earthquake, and finally a fire occur.

"After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave." I Kings 19:12-13

The imagery of this story absolutely chokes me up. I tend to be so sure that if I can't be bothered to slow down my fast-paced life, God will intervene and use something powerful and loud to project His voice. I don't often listen for Him to whisper to my heart when I'm playing taxi-driver for my children or during a week when I've been working at my church more than I've seen my husband. I assume the noise surrounding me and in my own head is so loud that God will have to be louder. But as it was true for Elijah, our Father is there, whispering to me in the most menial tasks and desires to draws me into his Holy presence.

Not even a week after coming across the Instagram picture, I found myself standing in line at the post office. I had a package in one hand and was holding a three year-old daughter in the other. Thanks to a full day, Hadley began to drift off on my shoulder and before I was to the front of the line, she was snoring softly in my ear. Despite the flickering florescent lights and sullen faces surrounding me, I was wonderfully shaken by the moment. I felt God turning my eyes from my task-filled day to a beautiful lesson. Hadley had no problem finding rest in the most unlikely moment. The post office is as mundane a place as one can get! Sister, God can do anything. He can whisper life-giving truths to your heart in the post office, while fighting your way through the grocery store, or in any situation that seems far from holy. He knows no bounds. God will not wait to teach you and grow you until you find what you deem as an appropriate meeting time with Him. It is up to us, however, to begin to tune our hearts to hear His voice in those unlikely moments and to greet Him as Elijah did.

Turn over and Tune in - Jennifer Miller

As summer storms are prone to do in the DFW area, we recently had several storms pass through our area dumping hail, and producing strong winds and tornadoes.  To the average citizen this is a tragedy, but for news stations across the metroplex it becomes a gold mine of TV and radio coverage.  Meteorologists kick into high gear using tracking devices, touch screens, and radar computers with constant coverage stating their best guestimates of when and where the storms will be.  After the storm passes, every available reporter is tasked to find a broken down power line, a house with missing shingles, or even told to simply stand in a puddle to get just the right sensationalism for the story.  

As I drove to work I was listening to the radio coverage from some sweet lady reporter who had been given the assignment to cover the storm from the local hardware store.  Bless it… I am not sure how far down the reporter food chain she was…but surely this was the first rung on the ladder to news desk anchor.  Her job was to interview patrons going into the store asking them what damage was done to their houses and properties.  She thought she had hit the radio news jackpot when she saw a man with a flat-bed cart.  Surely this man has a tale to tell – and what luck, she was there to get the scoop.   

She began the interview asking the man what damage he had incurred.  He began to speak of his damaged roof, blown out windows, a toppled down fence, and leaking water in several rooms of his house.  Then, after giving the story time to develop, with excited concern the reporter asks, “What supplies are you picking up today to manage the repairs?”  The assumption was that with such damage and his huge flat-bed cart this man must be tackling many giant repairs and surely they could talk about what would be needed to make all these repairs.  I could tell she felt that this might turn out to be a 2 part story complete with commercial break … radio news gold.  

Imagine her surprise when the man replied, “I’m here to pick up some mulch.”  Radio silence… severe awkward no.one.is.speaking.moment.  - not the stuff of radio news gold.  This poor reporter was stumped and didn’t really know how to recover.  Thank goodness it was radio because I imagine her blank stare would not have made a good impression on all the HD TVs of the world (I however had a wonderful laugh out loud chuckle at the whole thing).   

Finally she said, “Mulch?”  to which the man… confused at her confusion… said ever slower “Yes…mulch…(long pause)…the stuff you put in flower beds.”  The reporter shot back to reality and tried to recover by redirecting him saying “Ok – so you are getting mulch for your flower beds… and… is there anything else on your handyman ‘to do’ list today to make repairs to all of your storm damage?”  The precious man said, “Nope.  I can’t do much about the fallen fence, leaking roof, or blown out windows – the insurance people will have to work all that stuff out…but I am focusing on what I can do…  The storm and rains washed out all the mulch from my flower beds so I am going to work on that…I can do something about that.” 

Yep…there it was.  My laughter quickly turned to my own “radio silence”… reflecting about what I had just heard.

 

Unlike the man in the radio interview – who took inventory of his problems and then purposefully chose to tackle the one he was equipped to carry out - I tend to take on all the problems of the world.  I stuff my life back pack full of all of life’s burdens and worries - my heart and mind carry the problems others have, the problems of this world, the worries I have over my kids, my job, and daily routine worries.  I get overwhelmed with “what ifs” …and I sit there and allow all of it to just flood and storm over me.  In my pride of thinking I can handle it all, I rarely stop and ask if these are problems and burdens that the Lord wants me to carry.  

This is not how I know the Lord wants me to function.  He wants me to humbly admit that I am not in control and lay at His feet those problems, worries, and “what ifs”.  (typically this is a moment by moment task for me) He wants me to acknowledge that He is God and I am not.  I then have to trust that in my talking and listening to God in due time He will show me what (if anything) He wants me to take action on.

There are lots of problems in this world – they are fierce and they are real.  Some of life’s problems are solved with a quick text, phone call, or email.  But some problems need my action - focused and devoted time and energy.   It should only be after I have prayed over the problems, that I seek where it is God wants me to do some work. There is freedom in being focused.  There is bondage at my scattered attempts to try and take on and tackle all the worries and problems that press in from all around.   

The Lord wants to shine a light in the area where He is already working and equip me to join in. He wants me to turn over and tune in:  turn over what is His to bear, and tune in to where He wants me at work.  I want to be about my Father’s work.  When life’s problems and worries press in, my prayer should be, “Lord is this my flower bed today?”         

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, so that in due time He may exalt you. Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.

 1 Peter 5:6-7

My Part in the Dallas Shootings - Ashley Qualley

My morning started like any other. I was woken up, not by my alarm clock, but by my chubby-cheeked daughter, staring intently into my very-tired face. The kid loves mornings. And she loves breakfast so off to the kitchen I plodded. Coffee for me, chocolate milk for her. Cook up some turkey sausage, cut up the strawberries. Turn on the TV and wait for the decree on what show tickles her fancy. I could perform my morning duties in my sleep. Enter big brother and cue argument over current TV show. Exit me, stage-right, to the bathroom in an attempt to get ready for the day.

As my sleepy trek through the morning continued, I prepared to take the kids to meet a friend at the park. I was met with questions on the location of shoes, whiny voices demanding to watch "just one more show", and a host of sibling arguments loud enough for neighbors to hear. As I rounded the corner into the living room, finally ready to head to the park, I found myself smack in the middle of another dog-fight. This one involved angry screeches and flying hands.

"Shut UP! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

The words were out of my mouth before I fully realized what was happening. Self-control was a thing of the past and, to be honest, it felt good. I continued to bellow at two wide-eyed children as they made a break for their rooms. The wheels were off. Anger erupted from me with such force that the sounds of slamming cabinets and dishes being thrown into the sink filled the air.

Where had I gone so very wrong? How did I go from serving my children breakfast to screaming hateful words that were never allowed in our home? I spent the rest of the day mentally beating myself up, crying to my husband, and apologizing to my two children. Later that night, I sat on the couch, flipping through the TV channels. Breaking news of officers shot in Dallas filled the screen and I sat glued to the story for the next two hours. I was horrified. The world was on fire and it seemed anything was possible. Though yelling at my kids in our living room seemed a far cry from the bodies of fallen officers lining the streets, I couldn't escape the feeling of connection.

The following Sunday, I sat in our Sunday School class, discussing the tragedy in Dallas with friends. One particular women spoke up. A soft-spoken woman, who I could only wish to be more like, said something that cast the bright light of truth on that ugly day.

                   "I  am no different that the man who shot those police officers. Without Jesus, I am capable of anything. Really...I could do unspeakable things if I didn't cling to Jesus."

I will never forget those words. I am capable of anything. My sinner's heart slinks about, ready to pounce on opportunities that feel good in the moment. A mother unleashing anger on her children and a man taking lives at will...they are one in the same. Both offenses lead to death. God accepts no room for qualifying our sins. Death is where all the roads of sin intersect.

                 "For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 6:23

For a church-going gal, I knew the threat of sin in my head. But this particular day of death and destruction and the realization that I hadn't clung to Jesus during a hard moment was now penetrating my heart. I need Jesus every minute of every day. I need His face in my mind, His words in my heart, and my hands constantly folded in prayer, begging Him to see me through this life. I am made in His image, but I will not free from the ability to sin until I reach Heaven. I am capable of anything. We all are. Our days must begin in communion with our Creator. We don't know what each day will hold, but we can be sure Christ is walking alongside us. His call to our life can echo far louder than the temptation of sin. He only asks that we take His capable hand.

                                       

Tag-Ripper by Ashley Qualley

My first day of college. I raced across campus and mentally kicked myself for not looking at the map to ensure I knew where I was headed. Not that the map would've helped. I don't read maps. I use landmarks and hope for the best. In this case all of the landmarks were new and unfamiliar to me at my East Texas university. The August humidity and my quick pace formed a fine layer of sweat under my brand new v-neck top and boot-cut jeans. I'm fairly certain everything about me screamed "FRESHMAN".

I eventually located the Language Arts building and burst through the double doors of my Spanish lab. The professor was already discussing the syllabus and almost every seat was taken. I frantically searched the room for an empty seat and located one right smack in the middle. Of course. As I made my way across rows of students, I could feel all eyes on me. At one point I was keenly aware of my backpack bumping someone in the side of the head. "FRESHMAN". Inches away from the seat and able to see relief on the horizon, I felt something grab the side of my jeans. My brain registered everything that followed in painful slow motion. A fellow female student was tearing away the size sticker than ran down the side of my new size twelve jeans. The horror. All the way down my pant-leg was the number twelve...12, 12, 12, 12. A complete stranger now knew that I was so very freshman with my new school clothes and could tell the world what size jeans I wore. Ouch. She handed me the tag and I spent the rest of that first class staring at my professor in defeat. I knew she was speaking to us, but my size twelve debacle had dulled her voice to a muffled drone in the distance.  What a punch in the gut on what should've been a monumental day.

Four years later, despite that first day in Spanish lab, I became a college graduate. Somehow, I managed to put my embarrassment aside, made incredible, laugh-out-loud memories, found a love of writing, and graduated with honors. I am the poster child for underdogs everywhere. But in all seriousness, since stepping into the adult world after college, I've started to measure my relationships with women against the Great Tag Ripping of 2000. What that random girl did for me the first day of school was, in reality, a great kindness. She had options. She could've left the tag right where it was so students all over campus could have a good laugh at my expense as I migrated from class to class. Instead of immediately handing me the tag, she could have waved it around for other students to see. She certainly had a funny enough story! But this particular girl made the choice to quickly remove a very obvious sign that I was a freshman mess and did it discretely. Though it smarted, she did the best thing for me. I don't remember her name or her face, but I do know that she acted as a friend in the great community of women.

When I look at the women in my life, I now ask myself if I'm acting as a kindly Tag-Ripper. Am I able to withhold judgement and offer help where it is needed? Do I wave my friends' weaknesses in their face and make light of areas in which they struggle? Do I protect fellow women from the gossip and ugliness of others? The answers vary, depending on how close to Jesus I'm drawing at any particular time. The farther I walk down my own road and not that of my Savior, the more likely I am to fall down on the job as Tag Ripper. The Bible says, "There are friends who destroy each other, but a real friend sticks closer than a brother" (Proverbs 18:24). I don't know about you, but I want to be a friend who sticks closer than a brother, a Tag-Ripper. The world might just want to know a little more about our Jesus if there are more of us out there looking out for each other.

Brain Teasers: Jennifer Miller

I have never ever enjoyed brain teasers.  You can call them brain games or mental challenges but whatever two word-pairing you derive will simply equal awfulness to me.  I am simply not patient enough, nor smart enough, and don’t find any enjoyment from teasing my brain.  My brain works hard enough to just function…let’s leave the teasing to a fine tooth comb and some aqua net.

My dad; however, loves brain teasers.  Some fathers receive ties on Father’s Day…nope, my dad wants brain teasers.  He loves them... get the ring off the two horse shoes – done; jump all those little golf tees on the triangular base and only leave one – no problem; figure out who sat next to whom on five different trains arriving in 13 different countries at 52 different times – solved and solved.  A vivid early childhood memory I have is my Dad receiving a new-fandangled toy:  The Rubik’s Cube.  Ever the thinker and problem solver that he was, he sat down with a piece of paper and began to work out equations on how to solve this cubed puzzle.  After a few weeks he was able to solve it…I could twist and turn to my heart’s content and hand it to him and he could pattern logic his way to get all those colored squares back together again.  Fabulous!  One afternoon, I found myself alone with The Rubik’s Cube. I happily did some twisting and turning in an effort to try and line up the colors.  I thought I could get them all straight but it seemed the more I turned the more jumbled things got. I had no plan or logic – I just twisted. I couldn’t figure it out but I was not going to let this toy get the best of me.  After a good effort (which probably equated to 2 total minutes) I dug my fingernail underneath one of those colored stickers and low and behold it peeled right off.  Fantastic!  I set out and pulled off each and every sticker and was careful not to lose any.  I re-pressed and re-sealed each sticker into their rightful blocks of color.  I didn’t put any thought as to where the colors should go…just that the colors should fill a side.  I wasn’t trying to make red next to yellow or blue next to green…I just slapped the stickers on there.  When my dad got home I proudly plopped it into his hand and pronounced that I had solved it.  He didn’t notice the altered cube…at first.  In fact, I had done quite a good job at reattaching all those stickers.  The problem came when he tried to solve the puzzle after it was mixed up again.  He had a set of equations and turns that matched the original color scheme.  Unfortunately, where the colors were placed mattered, and although visually looking correct, my deception was found out because it was not the exact replica that my father was used to working with. It was clear that I had messed with the original design of the toy and compromised the integrity of the game.  I am not sure what my consequence was…but I am certain it was not as harsh as it should have been. 

Much to my father’s dismay, I think we have reached the shallow end of the gene pool for solving brain teasers starting with my generation.  Unfortunately, my children don’t seem to be fairing much better with them.  I remember when they were little introducing them to the wonderfulness that was the “20 questions” game.  We were waiting in a doctor’s office far past humanly possible and insanity was setting in.  I brilliantly thought a game of 20 questions would be just what we needed to pass the time.  Here is the scenario as it played out each.and.every.time.

Me:  (after explaining all the rules) “ok I have thought of something” (a dog)

Child one:  is it a basketball?

Me: ummm…no – and you should start with something more general like “is it a person place or thing?”

Child two:  is it a person place or thing?

Me:  it is a thing

Child one:  is it my foot?

Me: no…and wow that is specific.  Again – think of categories or bigger broader groups of items

Child two:  is it Dad?

Me: no – that is a person…I said it was a thing

Child one: is it Q-tip?

This would continue with each child naming random specific things that came to mind until I just gave up and finally this happened:

Child one:  is it a cup?

Me:  yep – you got it…I was thinking of a cup.

See what I did there….I just made a lie the truth.  And crazily enough they bought it and were extremely satisfied with themselves for guessing the right object and we celebrated by them wanting to play another round.  Sigh …serenity now.

Despite my dislike for brain teasers, I can’t seem to get away from them.  I encounter them every day.  Not The Rubik’s Cube or 20 questions variety of brain teasers… but a different kind of brain game: recognizing the twists of truth and lies from Satan.  He packages a thought in my brain and makes it so palatable that I buy into it and believe a lie as the truth. It is who he is – and he is good at messing with my brain.    If I don’t examine the words he whispers against the truth of what my Heavenly Father has said in scripture, I will not be able to clearly see that what Satan is telling me is not an exact replica of what is found in scripture. 

… the lie of being “less than”

… the lie of thinking that my sin is not so bad

… the lie of not seeing my priorities as misaligned

Thankfully I have a model in the life of Jesus as what to do when I encounter these brain teasers. 

Mark 4:3-11

“The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.” ⁴ Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

⁵ Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. ⁶ “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written:

“‘He will command his angels concerning you,
    and they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”

⁷ Jesus answered him, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

⁸ Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. ⁹ “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”

¹⁰ Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’”

¹¹ Then the devil left him, and angels came and attended him.

Each and every time Satan uses a lie … twisted truth to tempt Jesus.  Jesus’ example to us is profound.  He does not rely on his feelings or even on what he thinks – He relies on what he KNOWS.  His response is always examining what was said against scripture to test its truth.  When what Satan said was found as a lie, Jesus responded by quoting scripture.  He knew the scriptures well and had them memorized.  He knew these were brain teasers – that what Satan offered was not truth - and our Lord called Satan out on it. 

When I find myself staring into the face of a “brain teaser” from Satan, my prayer is that I will recognize it as a lie and search out the truth.  While I may not be able to have scripture “at the ready” for every scenario like Jesus did – I pray that I would seek it out…write it out…and say it out loud to combat the lies.  Here are some examples of the brain teasers that I have encountered recently:

Satan came to me and whispered, “Jesus died for you…But I’m not sure why because you are severely blowing this whole parenting, wife, friend thing.  With your issues it is no wonder you feel alone” But I said to him, “The Lord my God is with me, the Mighty Warrior who saves.  He takes great delight in me; in His love He will no longer rebuke me, but will rejoice over me with singing (Zephaniah 3:17).  “And I am certain that God, who began the good work within me, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” (Philippians 1:6)    

Then the devil took me to my sin and said, “this is not so bad…you lied because you wanted to keep people happy and Jesus wants you to keep the peace and unity in the body of Christ”.  But Jennifer said “The LORD detests lying lips, but he delights in people who are trustworthy.” (Proverbs 12:22)  

The tempter came to her and said, “It’s ok that you haven’t spent time with God this week – He will understand… You are serving on church committees and doing good things for your family.” But Jennifer answered, “In everything you do, put God first, and he will direct you and crown your efforts with success.” Proverbs 3:6

As you start your day, consider this prayer:

Lord, even before I get out of bed, I acknowledge that Satan is waiting to throw some brain teasers into my day.  Help me see truth today – I want to walk in that truth.  Help me to plainly see lies and use scripture to combat those lies.  Your word is ever true and unfailing.     

I would love to hear from you…what are some brain teasers you encounter? What truth from scripture do you use to shine truth into it?

The Follies of Fear- Ashley Qualley

I heard the words when I was nineteen. "You have cancer". Nineteen and my most pressing problems had been nailing down a college minor and getting a ride home for Easter. I watched my mother slump into a chair in the living room as she absorbed the shock of what my surgeon had just told her over the phone. I distinctly remember trying to wave away the fog as I got into her face and demanded, "What about school? Can I keep going?" That's a teenager for you. Invincible...bullet proof...blissfully unaware of how quickly life can change.

To say God saw me through that period of life would be a gross understatement. He encircled me with the most fiercely loyal group of friends...friends who still take their job very seriously today. I started dating my future husband! I transferred home to a college that cultivated my love of writing. (Thanks, Professor Schrodt!) And I was able to spend extra time with my parents, brother, and sister. I'm fully aware that moving back home and being around one's family more is quite the opposite of most college students' plans. Coming home typically receives a social demerit! But God used that time to help me celebrate the family he'd given me. There were coffee dates with my mom and blues concerts with my dad. I secretly taught my baby brother to drive and carpooled to classes with my sister, sharing inside jokes and laughter so hysterical it made us cry. There was goodness radiating from my life in the midst of the doctor visits and blood tests. I did not know the length of time my bout with cancer would last, but I also didn't spend much time dwelling on it. I was far too immersed in the gifts my Father continuously dropped in my lap during that period. 

After two years, my same grandfatherly surgeon sat before my mother and I in his office. He gave me the news I'd been waiting to hear. My health checked out and I was officially free of the cancer life. I wasted no time. I graduated college, packed up my car, and moved away. I was thankful for my time at home, but ready, again, to be out in the world on my own. There were jobs, apartments, successes and failures. I was engaged, then married, then moving to another town. There were trips, more jobs, babies, another move, and a lot of life in between it all. Not once did I stop to evaluate the twists and turns of my journey or my decisions based on being a cancer survivor. Those words weren't even part of my vocabulary. Cancer was not who I was...it was a mere blip in a long adventure where God was continuing to reveal goodness to me. 

Sometime in the last two or three years, however, things have changed. I have privately labeled myself "Cancer Survivor". I find myself obsessing over those dreaded what-if's. I look for symptoms of possible new illnesses and run through worst-case scenarios in the dead of night when fear is the most consuming. Cancer attacks me in a way it hadn't before, mentally and spiritually...fourteen years after the fact. I attribute this change to three few things. First, I became a parent! Even the most seasoned mother or father has experienced the sheer panic that comes from realizing you have no control over your time on earth with your children. To love someone so much and know you can be ripped apart at any time makes me ill and utterly helpless. Second, I've slowly taken over control of my life, instead of relying on Christ to drive. I hold on tightly to the lie that I can will things to happen or not, based on how well I plan and plot. Finally, I stopped focusing on the gifts in my life as God-given. I view them as things I've created or worked for. The pure "Thank you" 's I uttered to God while driving through traffic to make doctor appointments during the cancer years have turned into lip service in my healthy years. I make myself too busy to stop and see that the same goodness that was there fourteen years ago is still surrounding me today, not by my merit.

Last week, in my quest to control and predict, I went to a check-up at the dermatologist. I'd made myself sick for two weeks, worrying about what the doctor might find on my skin (I'm an avid sun-worshiper). The appointment ended up lasting less than thirty minutes and I walked away with a thumbs up from the doctor. I expected to dance back to my car with the weight of the world off my shoulders. What I found, instead, was a black hole where my anxiety about the appointment had been. The hole was sucking away any possible relief or gratefulness and already on the hunt for something new to fret over. I was shocked...and immediately exhausted. The cycle of fear showed no signs of slowing, despite my best efforts. 

Discouraged and attempting, desperately, to mask it, I stumbled upon a verse in 1 Samuel:

"But be sure to fear the Lord and faithfully serve Him. Think of all the wonderful things he has done for you." 1 Samuel 12:24 (NLT)

This verse was my homecoming, much like going back to the comfort of my family when I became sick at nineteen. Everything that I lacked and had forgotten was contained in these living words. The only fear the Lord commands in a holy reverence of Him. Human fear is not of God, period. He desires faithful service and a grateful heart. What simple commands and here I had let so much that was not of God into my heart and mind. I could feel myself being brought back to that place of trust I'd lived in as a teenager. 

In an effort to continue my transparency, I will admit that my proclivity for fear and worry still serves as my natural train of thought. (Plus it's only been a week since finding the verse!) And this is, precisely, why God gave us his Word, to transform and renew us. I am being transformed daily...hourly as I infuse my thought process with the words from 1 Samuel. I am letting go of the uncertain, the control, and the thankless spirit. God is, today, doing a work in my life far greater than when he released my body from cancer. He is surrounding me with the goodness that I witnessed as a mere kid and He promises to continue. May you, sister, fear the Lord and leave the rest at His feet. 

My Evolution with Tejano Music - Jenn Miller

 Here is a little background…I love sleep – I am really quite good at it.  When someone asks me what my hobbies are, I suppress the strong urge to blurt out “napping”.  That said, the time period in my life with my first newborn was challenging…to put things mildly.  Sleep deprivation was wicked and I did not process it well.  I decided early on that I could not sleep with Alyse in the same room with me.  Every little sound she made jolted me awake which provided for disjointed and erratic sleep.  The solution was for me to sleep upstairs with Alyse but in a different room.  Anxious and desperate for sleep I plugged in the baby monitor in her room, took the “walkie talkie” portion to my room and lay down blissful with thoughts of sleep.  It took approximately 30 seconds before I processed what was happening…Tejano music was coming out of the baby monitor.  Panic.  I tip toed into Aly’s nursery and changed the channel on her monitor and likewise changed the channel on my receiver.  Nope – still Tejano.  There were 3 channels to choose from and all produced the plucky sounds of Tejano from the monitor. AYE CARRAMBA! 

I barely slept at all that night.  The next morning I explained to Doug (probably more like hormonally fell apart in a meltdown any toddler would be proud of) that Tejano music was coming out of the monitor.  We decided that surely this was a fluke thing and I would give it another try that night.  Money was not free flowing in our household so I didn’t want to just race out and purchase another monitor.  I had researched all baby monitors and this one had gotten 4 baby fist pumps (or some other crazy rating system they use) and so I was determined to try and make this monitor work.  Nope.  Night after night – Tejano music.  We discovered that the local Tejano station was about a mile from our home and the frequency they used perfectly matched the same frequencies used for baby monitors.  No bueno. 

Completely delirious from lack of sleep during this phase of life, my quiet times with God consisted of reading through the Psalms.  It was about as much as I could mentally muster up to read a Psalm each night.  Psalm 6:2  “Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am faint; O Lord, heal me, for my bones are in agony.  How long, O Lord, how long?”   Clearly David’s inspiration comes from the same “infant doesn’t sleep coupled with Tejano baby monitor issue” I was having because what else could have prompted the songs of lament he wrote.  David and I were simpatico. 

I can’t recall when I finally ditched the Tejano singing monitor and just listened for Alyse to cry out but it was at least a few months.  I built a true disdain for all things Tejano during that time period.

Alyse was still an infant when I decided to take a trip to visit my parents in Houston.  Doug was out of town and I thought a 5 hour car trip alone with an infant would be an awesome idea (I have heard people don’t make their best decisions when they are sleep deprived).  The trip was going along well at first.  We had made a few pit stops to change a diaper and eat.  Right after one such pit stop, Alyse began to lose her mind.  I knew she was not hungry or dirty as we had just stopped for those things.  She was fighting sleep and there was nothing to do but just keep driving.  Whew – she had quite the cry out going so I decided to turn on the radio to try and find my happy place.  Unfortunately, we were in some podunk little town and music choices were limited….except guess what came through loud and clear?  Yep – Tejano.  A flood of bitterness fell over me and I was jamming my finger on the “skip forward” button, but there was a lag so the music blared out…and then it happened… Alyse stopped crying.  The music was so different from anything SHE had heard that it was enough to break the freak out cycle.  I simply couldn’t believe it.  The music that I had such animosity towards for months was bringing comfort to a current situation.  I flat out set the dial to that channel and we listened to Tejano music until she fell asleep.  Magnifico.

Since that day, I have always kept a radio station channel with Tejano music.  (Shout out to 99.1) When Alyse and Grant were smaller and would begin to get pesty to each other in the back seat of the van – I dialed up Tejano.  They would swivel their heads around and begin to bop up and down and temporarily forget the “will you stop touching me” moment. 

Fast forward to today and my sweet Alyse is almost 12.  You know…the age of all knowing everything.  I find it simply a feat of amazingness that I have managed to stay alive for 41 years without her “advice and input”.  During this season our tastes are quite different…and that includes music.  There is a current pop song that has a lyric that says “I can’t feel my face when I’m with you…but I love it”  Alyse doesn’t appreciate when I tell her that this man clearly has health issues and should see a dr.  I further explain that maybe it is a side effect of that toenail fungus medicine they advertise on TV – it seems that for all the good it does, there are quite a bit of awful side effects and bell’s palsy was mentioned – an indicator that something is amiss. …. Eye rolling commences and Alyse just sings louder.   

Alyse typically jumps in the car after school and answers my obligatory school questions and then begins to press all the programmed buttons on the radio.  One day recently, all her radio stations were running commercials so she got to the last button on pre-programmed buttons…Tejano.  She gave me a crazy look and I simply said, “Tejano…who can’t be happy listening to Tejano”.  We laughed out loud and then both began to dance in the car together.  We understood not one word…but didn’t have to.  We bonded together over the sweet sounds of mariachi.  She now regularly finds the Tejano station when we are in the car.  I consider it a win as she is reaching out to connect us together (and I am not being subjected to listening to songs where people can’t feel their face). 

In these moments of listening to Tejano with Alyse I am struck by Romans 8:28,

“And we know that in all things God works for the good

of those who love Him".

You might think I am reaching to lump Tejano music into God working all things.  But I need to put it there.  I need to see His hand working in ALL things.  Not just financial things…not just things for successful people or nice people, not just working in BIG things or in your things…but in ALL things.  If I can see His hand working to redeem my issue with Tejano music it helps me cling harder to this promise:  I can trust that He indeed does work ALL things for my good…even Tejano music! 

Gloria a Dios