Defeating Discouragement

I wasn't even sure what had me so down. Why was I feeling defeated? Clobbered over the head with discouragement, over and over, and over yet again. What was I doing wrong? Why, when I feel so close to God, right where He wants me, right with those He wants me with? Why then be beat down?

I'm telling you working with the students in our youth group has been the best thing that's happened to me in a very long time. Some weeks it's taken almost all of the time I've reserved for me. It's taken time I've reserved for friends. It's taken emotion that I've let settle. It's more comfortable when it's settled. It's taken adult conversations in a life group made for people just like me. It's taken the simple innocence from my girls when burps weren't funny, farts were gross, and the term boyfriend was nonexistent. It's taken my view of high schoolers, smashed it, and showed me the next generation. The group of people God can change this world with. The desire of God not to wait to change the world with them, to do it now. It's drawn me so very close to God when there is no where else to go.

Where else can you go when one you love so much is moved to a home and you have zero communication for months. Where do you go when one tells you she doesn't want what is best, she wants what is fun and damaging? Where do you go when one fights for a relationship with her parent and she is the one turned away? When one is so sick from eating disorders her body wont function correctly? When one is finally understanding God's love for her and longs to dig into the Bible and learn...only to be ridiculed by family. Only to be doubted. Only to be mocked because of the past they fight to let go of.

What do you do when you reflect on the last 15 years of your life and you see exactly where God has prepared you for youth ministry? Cringe at mistakes that were made, find God in them, find His Word for them, set aside fun, pull back the shame, uncover the real, the hurt, the pain, and.show.everything. Give to them everything, the hurt and the hope, and beg God to heal. Beg God to heal their fatherless, broken, doubted hearts.

What do you do when God says yes, when God heals and the critic is waiting. When the critic jumps because you act silly, break down walls, but you're too immature. When you study God's Word with a student, but you're ideally not who 'we' wanted with 'our' high schooler. When you hang up from only praying with her and you're already criticized for saying to much? When to the world, you're just the wrong person.

This, my friend, is the very best place I've been.

In doing a study in Nehemiah we're learning that we don't face opposition because we're doing something wrong, we face it because we're doing something right. We learned how our enemy can discourage us from the outside by using obstacles and critics. We learned how so many God given dreams die at the very first obstacle and how any leader in any position experiences criticism. We talked about dealing with discouragement from the inside. How hard to listen to the things that were said in Nehemiah 4:1-3 and not let the voices in your head tell you you're not good enough. 'It was a mistake to come here in the first place. They are right, you're less than ideal and that's not good enough.'

I love how Nehemiah dealt with all of those things...if you read in Nehemiah 4 you see him being mocked while trying to rebuild the walls in Judah. He didn't sit down ad cry. He didn't gather his closest friends and complain. He didn't call together his greatest critics and prove them all wrong and defend himself.

He prayed.

Then he got his butt back to work rebuilding.

Two things he did was to remember the Lord and all that that Lord has done for him. Remembered how God made it possible for him to get from being a lowly cup bearer for the king to Judah to leading men in rebuilding those great and mighty walls. Second, he reminded the people to fight for their cause, not for themselves.

While the critics hurt and cause self doubt, I can rest assured I'm right where God wants me. I can remember the day, the message, the two people God used to draw us into youth ministry. I can remember the lives that have been touched, my own life that's been touched, and I can see the work the Lord is doing. I remember that. And I can fight for them, for the fatherless, for the beat down, for the doubted, for the children which God loves and wants to use to change the world.

When I'm hurt, I'll fight for them because that matters so much more than what any critic can say.

Nehemiah 4:14 And I looked, and rose up, and said unto the nobles, 

and to the rulers, and to the rest of the people, 

Be not afraid of them: remember the Lord, which is great and terrible, 

and fight for your brethren, your sons, and your daughters, your wives, and your houses. 

Terrible- 1. Distressing; severe. 2. Exciting terror, awe, or great fear. 3. Formidably great.

Good Quote

"When you live for others out of unconditional love, you will be fulfilled and satisfied.

But when you do things for others out of obligation and expectation, you will feel resentment because not everyone will treat you the way you want them to."

Author Amanda Beth

Learn to Love

Lately there has been a common theme brought into my life over and over, and over again. I think it started at a young age...


Remember eating lunch in the cafeteria at school? I'm not sure if you're school was just like mine...but most of the time kids were in one of three groups when it came to eating. You had the kids who's moms packed their lunches. As an equally large part of the class you had the kids that turned in envelopes to pay for their lunches and they were in the 'tray' line rather than the 'bucket' line. It took me years to realize that there was a third group. There was a group of kids who were listed on a notebook who passed through the line to get  a tray without turning their envelope in first. They were the kids that were on a limited income. Kids that their families couldn't afford to pay for the school lunches and would get free lunches through the school. Kids that were labeled as poor. Kids I saw as poor, dirty, and unfortunate. What a cruel judgement on my part. 


You can imagine my reaction years later when I found out that we were offered those free meals every year. You can imagine my reaction when I learned the only, ONLY reason we didn't get those meals is because my dad declined them and we pinched every penny to afford to pack our own lunches. 


Remember those kids who said things about being at their moms house for a week or heading to their dads house. I remember looking lost at kids referring to someone picking them up as a mom's boyfriend, or a step parent. In my mind I felt sorry for them and wondered why their family was so broken. I cringed every single time I introduced someone to my moms boyfriend. Every time I mentioned mom dating and the thought of a step parent. Was I now 'that' kid yet again?


The truth is I wasn't THAT kid. 


The truth is that kid wasn't THAT kid.


How wrong I judged. How wrong I labeled certain people.


I don't beat myself up over this, not in the least bit. I was a kid. I'm certainly not proud of it and I've laughed over the fact that we were the poor family and I had no idea (that's seriously good parenting on mom and dads behalf). The problem is when as an adult we make the same labels, the same judgments. We see an action that someone is doing and we label it. 


Disobedient.
Dirty.
Poor.
Depressed.
Slutty.
Bad.
Cocky.
Stuck up.
Boy crazy.


While working in 180 (the youth group in our church) these labels become more evident. The more I fall in love with these students the more these labels upset me. Seeing people expect a 15 year old to act like an adult and when they don't: label em. Watching others see kids make mistakes and stand back shaking their head: judge them. 


Acts 10:15 says that what God hath cleansed, that call not thou common. Verse 28 ends with 'but God hath shewed me that I should not call any man common or unclean.'


Rather than judge- why no just love em? It's the hardest thing to do. Love the unlovely. It's amazing how much strength God will give you if you ask for it and just how much love He'll fill your heart with if you try. Try not to figure out what's wrong with someone, but love, wholly & unconditionally without trying to solve problems.


Try teaching them. Acts 10:42 says 'And he commanded us to preach unto the people, and to testify that it is he which was ordained of God to be the Judge of quick and dead.' 


Thankfully, it's not our job to judge.


Rather, learn to love. Learn to hurt for the unloved.  

Replace slutty with hurt.

Stuck up or cocky as protecting themselves.

Boy crazy as searching for significance.

Poor or Dirty with neglected.

Depressed with lonely. 

Don't let petty in.

Since joining 180, the youth group at our church, I've been taught so much. I've learned that when you are right where God wants you it's amazing. There is joy, there is hope, and there is comfort.

I'm also learning there is heartache.

A minute ago I was painting furniture. Things are a little crazy right now, just because I got brilliant ideas to move the girls rooms all around and paint cheap old furniture to go for a look I'm not even sure I know what I'm striving for. I've decided to take on a few other projects, an online class that sits idle, while loving, mostly, the stages of a two year old and a three year old. So I was painting. Coffee. Pandora. Lots of furniture. 

I stopped to read an e-mail. We are doing a series on dating with the high schoolers right now and they are free to write down and anonymously ask any questions. We've well covered the topic of sex, boundaries, respecting yourself and the opposite sex... 

Reading down through the questions you have the few that answers are simple. And then the tears start rolling. I would feel like I'm betraying them to even give examples of some of the questions they are asking. Heartbreaking situations at home, school, work...everywhere they go. 

I want to sit them down, one at a time, look them in the eye and hold their hands...

Eye to eye I want to say please, please see that you are worth protecting. 

See that you are beautiful, handsome, strong, and exactly who God intended to create. 

Please run from these things now so that when God blesses you with a marriage, you can enjoy it fully.

Doing dishes together.
Deep conversations. 

Sweet hugs, little kisses. 

Even sex. 

Please keep yourself whole. 

Your life unmarried will seem short as soon as you proclaim "I do!"

It will be more than worth it. 

Don't hurt more than you have to. 

Forgive. Yourself. People who have hurt you. 

Take time to heal. 

Take time to learn to worship.

Push your head high and shoulders back and know that you are royalty.

I see hearts that long for fathers. Hearts that long for healing. Hearts that just want noticed. Hurt. So much hurt. 

God has been working. He is working so much right now. So many things the students are wanting to learn. Wanting to change. Wanting to trust. 

When awesome things are happening Satan stirs. For those who worry about things that are going on not being the way they would do it, who are just not sure...please pray. Pray for hurting hearts. Pray for healing. Pray for protection. And then thank God that He is working. Thank God for being all powerful. For loving the fatherless. For comforting the hurt. For leading. 

High school is a hard age...180 is full of brilliant, beautiful, mold-able hearts. The kids are so strong and God finds so much value in them. Don't be petty. It's discouraging. Be better than that- pray. Pray that God would break your heart for what breaks His...it'll work. And it'll hurt when it breaks....

He was more than 90...

I was sitting on the couch talking on the phone when my cell phone rang. I was just updated "surgery is done. Dr Gessler said it went well. In recovery. Will let me go back in a bit. Praise! -Judy" so a pit formed quickly in my stomach when I saw it was Judy again. "Grandpa had some complications and they are coding him right now- I'm sorry, can you please call your family and let them know it doesn't look good." In a blur I called them quickly, arranging for my mother in law to come be with the girls. As Joel and I pulled into the hospital I saw mom & knew, "Grandpa's not here anymore" she said. I wont even try to explain the pain I felt, the pain I saw in mom's eyes, and the overwhelming emotions. How totally unexpected. In the matter of an hour we praised God for the surgery going well and then we wept. "Grandpa went to heaven."

I hated telling people what happened, calling work and canceling class, calling family. Because Grandpa was so amazing it hurt so bad. I knew people finding out that my 90 year old grandpa passed away wouldn't do him justice. I know even though he lived a long, full, life...none of us would ever be ready to let him go.

Some of my first memories of him were going out to eat for our birthdays. Grandma and Grandpa would always let us pick where we wanted to eat, anywhere we wanted. Of course Anne and I picked McDonalds until we grew up a little, then moved on to Ponderosa. We'd sing the whole way there and back in the car. It was my favorite thing about birthdays. I remember riding with Grandpa in his old army jeep. Grandpa drove to close to the pond and we were sucked into the mud. Of course I thought we were going under and were all going to drown. I remember his calm smile and him laughing the whole time. I remember watching Grandpa do surgeries on animals. We'd all cringe and "ewe" as he chuckled under his breath and laid all kinds of gross things out on the table in front of us. He'd let us hold the light and sit high on his chair the whole time. He treated each animal so kind and gentle. 

He was always kind, always gentle. (had to be if out of 13 grandkids he only spanked one, Joel) He played wiffle ball with us, pit, & scum. He'd lift his head, look up, and laugh his quiet laugh when everyone declined more food and Grandma piled it on anyways. 

Lately when we'd come to see Grandma and Grandpa, Grandma would be resting in her chair and Grandpa would be sitting in his rocking chair by the television, usually watching Jeopardy. He'd stand right up for hugs and say how happy he was to see everyone, always grabbing toys and playing with the great-grandkids. When we'd walk over to see Grandma, he'd smile and say "look at her, isn't she beautiful?" Almost 66 years of marriage and he treated her like a queen, ever day. 

Talking to Grandma since Grandpa passed away has blessed me so much. 

"He's my prince. I don't know how I'll live without him. He never said a cross word to me. He was soo wonderful. I didn't get to kiss him goodnight. He was my sweet heart. He would love to see his family like this, I'm so glad for my family. I loved to hear him sing when he'd sing bass. I'd sing to him in bed "let me call you sweet heart" and then we'd both sing together. He'd be here with me right now, laying, and talking about our day. He treated me so good. He made the best eggs. He was soo wonderful."

She's right. He taught us all to love. To love God, to love each other, and to love people. To respect people, to make each person feel important. To ask questions. To be ornery. That it's okay to cheat in cards, only if you don't get caught. To take care of each other. To laugh. To hug often. To stop by often. To say I love you. To live so people know you love them. He and Grandma showed us what marriage should be. Grandma's right, he was soo wonderful.

It doesn't feel right just telling people Grandpa passed away, it feels right telling them that he was so wonderful, he was so fun, he was so much to so many people. He genuinely loved everyone he met and even more loved God and served him every day. He deserves heaven. He deserves rest, good knees, and with good eyes to see God in all his glory. He deserves every bit of heaven. He was soo wonderful.

I'm kinda like that old guy.

Last Wednesday was a long day. I can't even remember why it was so long, other than running on about 3 hours of sleep & 2 grouchy children. I know I got nothing done other than surviving and making the house look like we got along just fine that day. Knowing very well that I crave Taco Bell with an unhealthy strong craving, my husband suggested we stop there on our way to youth group. Yes to no cooking. Heck yes to no spaghetti.
We had a wonderful family dinner. Instead of everyone starring at us and thinking 'poor parents of two wild toddlers' or 'what on earth are they doing with kids they cannot even control' we got looks and comments that said 'they are so cute', 'what sweet sisters', and 'you're so blessed'. [I love being reminded of how blessed we are].
On the way out, feeling wonderful with a belly full of 'sand & cheese', there was an elderly man who could barely walk carrying a cane, a bag of food, and a drink. (I couldn't help but wonder if this will be the great lengths I go through when I'm 80 to get Taco Bell). I motioned to Derrick that I'd get the girls if he would help this sweet lil man. Gladly Derrick offers to carry the mans drink and food and help him out to his car. He {Derrick} really can be charming. The man hesitates, then lets Derrick carry only his water. Holding the door for him the man carefully hobbles through. Going through the second door the girls whoop and holler because it's cold and 'hurry hurry, we want to go to 180!' so Derrick took his focus off the man to make sure I had an eye on both girls and the cars. Derricks foot that was holding the door wide open slips and the door crashes shut on this poor man, he hops and falls into the outside while of Taco Bell while dropping a few bomb words. (Seriously, knowing the man was fine, how is one not to laugh while watching?) Derrick rushes to make sure he doesn't fall, apologizing over and over, as the man swings his arm shooing him away. The man asks for his water back and is adamant about getting to his car alone. Derrick finally wins with a really sweet apology and walks the man to his car.
After hopping in the car and laughing hysterically at Derrick for shutting the door on the poor old man and the words that came out of the mans mouth I begin to think.
Derrick was doing such nice things for this man by helping him. He didn't have to. He had places to go, kids to chase, and a toasty warm car waiting. One wrong move and the man was no longer grateful for anything and wanted nothing to do with him.
I find myself in this position sometimes...I form opinions of people right off the bat. If they do anything different I write em off as someone else. I am a thankful person, I like to think I'm giving as well- but one time someone takes advantage of me, that person is no longer appreciative of anything I've ever done, or given, and I sure as heck wont do it again.
It's hard to see slip ups for slip ups, especially when it hurts, or it makes you look dumb. When it totally blindsides you it's easy to react by running your mouth and cutting yourself off from the person and situation. I hope to use this memory to remind me help me forgive and to be more grateful. I hope that when as I laugh with Derrick as we still talk about it, that I'm reminded how I act like a grumpy old man who just wants his Taco Bell.

I cringe when I think of High School....

I was a dork. I thought I was cool. I liked boys, plural. I couldn't make up my mind between other dorks, jocks, goody goodies, or the bad ones. I loved sweat pants, but I found importance in dressing 'cute' some days to get attention. I was a 'good girl' just a little 'ornery'. Outta my siblings, a little ornery landed you in the black sheep category. Everyone else was intelligent and applied themselves. They were sure about where they were and where they were heading. There were few things I was sure about.

One of the things I was sure about was my future. In my here and now of my senior year, I was going to have fun, earn the title class flirt (for some reason I was secretly proud of that) and wait patiently for my planned out future. I visited a few colleges before someone told me about one out by Chicago. Hopped on a plane, by myself, was picked of at the airport by the friend of someone who knew someone, and stayed in the dorm with that guys girlfriend. By the time I got off the plane in Chicago, I was sold. Not because of the city itself or the college at all...but because when I stepped off that plane in a huge airport and had no idea where I was going, I fell in love with the adventure. I fell in love with being independent. The college was cool, though I'm not sure it was a whole lot different than many I coulda went to in the same state. But it was farther away than any I looked at and I loved that. When I stepped off that plane I started planning the rest of my life. 

It looked like this:

I will go to college here. For journalism and broadcast news. I will fall in love with someone here, either from here or another state, one that had nothing to do with Ohio. I'll go where ever he wants to go really. Holidays would mean plane rides, I would experience airports all the time. I'd fly alone. I'd fly with a spouse. I'd fly with my kids. I'd work in sky scrappers. People would say "turn the channel to such and such, Kristen's doing the news!"

It still sounds fun to me. But obviously it happened way different. I came home after one year and started dating, not only from Ohio, but someone I knew for many many years. I fell in love, fast and hard. I ;moved home after my sophomore year and changed everything. My degree went to whatever I could get fast so I could settle down and be his wife. I got pregnant 7 months into marriage and have been a stay at home mom for three and a half years. I traded sky scrappers for silos and cornfields. Exciting business looking strangers for amish and faces I grew up with. I traded business suits for all day pj's, and my face on the news for days without seeing people at all. 

You can imagine that sometimes I feel like I've failed and let more than myself down. 

You can also imagine the light that went on last night while sitting in a room full of high schoolers, some that act just like I used to :yikes:, when Stu said "trust that God's plan for you is better than the plan you have for yourself." 

My mind immediately went back to when I was the age of most of the girls in the room. To my dreams. To my goals. To my black and white plan. I know I am right where God wants me right now. I also know I'm so far from where I ever planned I would be. Somedays are easy to trust in this plan and the path that I'm on. But days like yesterday are full of gross poop stories, hurt feelings, grouchy kids, feeling isolated, and never ending messes that no one will congratulate you for cleaning. Those days I especially need to trust God's plan for my life over the one I had.

I am a stay at home mom, helping raise the next generation. I'm worshiping every week with hearts that are wide open to love, acceptance, and God's plan for them.  I'm changing the world in sweatpants and t-shirts. And even when I'm grouchy or beat down by a career driven world, I can have a joy, a peace, because there is a plan worth trusting, and I don't have to write it.