Forever Changed

You know that feeling you get when you have an unbelievable, incredible, life-changing experience…and you think There is no possible way I'll ever forget this feeling and the impact this has had on my life? Then, some time goes by and the feeling fades, the impact may lose its powerful newness of epiphany and you kind of forget. There are those moments, though, in which something bigger and more powerful is at work and you walk away truly changed forever. They may be rare, but somehow, on some deeper level, you recognize it. You know it's not going away and you will never ever be the same.

Recently, I had the honor and privilege to meet someone and hear her story and her heart. I got to see the sparkle in her eyes when she shared about the miracles she had seen God do in her life. I got to hear the passion in her voice as she shared stories of heartache and brokenness radically transformed into hope and new life.

As she answered students' questions about her background and her conversion, it seemed so simple and matter of fact. Of course she would do whatever it took to share the love of Jesus with others, and of course it was worth the risk of losing her very life. Isn't that what Jesus did for her? Why would she give any less?

It has helped me to understand that we cannot truly appreciate freedom unless we have experienced bondage and slavery. We cannot know the value of the greatest sacrifice ever given for us until we have given up something so dear and precious to us, having faith that something greater will be gained. The only way we can begin to fathom deep gratitude is to receive the very thing we so desperately need but could in no way attain on our own.

I am humbled that I've had the awesome opportunity to listen and ask questions and pray for needs with this child of God, who so boldly speaks so that others may know Him. I am in awe of His glory and power displayed through her story. It is a reminder that His grace and love is reflected in each of our stories. When my boys got to hear her speak, they took in what their 7 and 4 year old minds could comprehend, but then they each looked up at me and asked "Mommy, will you tell me your story?"

In her words, I will share the thing that has stuck with me the most…in response to a question from a student about sharing her faith:

It's simple. God sent His one and only Son to be sacrificed on the cross for me. All He wants me to do is share it. Why wouldn't I want to take the Best News there could possibly be and tell everyone about it?

It really is simple if we let it be.

Thank you, dear friend, for your faithfulness and obedience in sharing the Gospel. Thank you for helping me keep things in perspective by increasing my awareness of what it really looks like to follow Jesus, even if it means losing everything else. The cost is great, but it is worth it.

Brokenness

I've never been super attached to a pet. I love animals and I had pets growing up. I used to prefer cats,  probably because they weren't as needy. Then, I married my husband and was introduced to a whole new world of what it meant to have pets/furry family members. I still didn't get it right away. The first time I met Brandon's parents and went to their house, their enormous German Shepherd, Major, tried to attack me by lunging at me and ripping my shirt with his teeth.

Over the years, it must have grown on me…this idea of having pets and getting attached to them. My mother and father-in-law rescued this beautiful all black German Shepherd, who had been abused in ways we probably can't even imagine. She has never fully recovered. She came to live with us a couple of years ago, and I was determine to help her get better. Maybe it was the counselor in me. 

Heidi never wanted to leave her kennel much, she wanted nothing to do with us or anyone that came to our house. She was terrified and it was so difficult to watch her have no energy, no peace, and no motivation to do anything. Last Spring, I went through a time when I wasn't very motivated and didn't have a lot of energy, but I knew I needed to get healthier. So, I started walking in the early hours of the morning. Heidi didn't want to do much, but she LOVED to go for walks. It was still dark out, and I carried my pepper spray at my dad's request, but I felt safe with this large, black, fierce-looking dog by my side. (Nobody else knew that she would cower away from them before she would attack them.) She was always lean, but still beautiful. When I walked her during daylight, someone would ALWAYS comment on what a pretty dog she was, whether they were in their yard or driving in the car and had to roll their window down to say it.

I didn't realize it until a couple of days ago, but I had developed a special bond with Heidi. She began to trust me. She would come to the living room and lay in the floor when I was in there (This is a BIG deal for her.) She would lick my hand and come to the dinner table and beg for food. She began to trust the kids more, too. Calvin helped feed her, Luke still stressed her out a little, and Mollie was her favorite. Mollie would lean down and just hug Heidi and Heidi would lick her face and make her giggle. There was this understanding between two beings who didn't have the ability to communicate with words…they knew they were safe in each other's presence.

Heidi has had all sorts of health problems over the years and they would get better and then bad again. A couple of days ago, I noticed that she was thinner than ever and not able to move easily. She wasn't eating and had withdrawn again. It got bad fast, and when we went to bed last night, we weren't sure if she'd be here this morning. 

I've sat with her and talked to her, gently petting her and trying to bring any comfort I can. I've cried for her and the difficult life she's had that was not her fault. Now, I'm accepting that her journey is coming to an end very soon.

I can't help but to think about her abuse and her brokenness that affected her whole life and the fact that I couldn't take that pain away from her or ease it more. It causes me to consider the broken people that I talk to all the time, many of their stories similar to Heidi's. When I'm really honest, I can admit that I'm broken, too. I've been hurt, discarded and treated badly. The truth is we are all broken, because our world is broken and filled with sin and pain. So, what can we do about it? Sometimes, it seems like we can't do anything. 

There is one person who Heidi loved and trusted more than anyone…my father-in-law. There was not one single time that Heidi did not jump up and run to greet him with barks and energy and excitement, until yesterday. He came in and she couldn't even lift her head. This grown man, in his suit, got down on his hands and knees, reached into the back of the kennel and pet Heidi, gently and softly talking to her. It was one of the most beautiful and loving things I've ever seen.

This is what we do about the brokenness all around us and within us. We look for opportunities to enter into someone's brokenness with them. We offer comfort and let them cry or listen to their story. We pray with them and for them. We ask for wisdom when we don't know what to do or how to help. We commit to loving people with our whole hearts, even if it makes us vulnerable to experiencing pain. 

When I doubt my abilities to help others (the definition of my calling) through counseling, this is what I want to remember. GOD will provide, HE will equip, HE will sustain, HE will heal. His healing may not always look the way I think it should, but HE is the only one who can make someone who is broken whole.