Deployment

 

Dealing with the emotions of a deployment is no easy task to wrestle with, especially if the only practice you have really had with it has been from an ex boyfriend or two.  Nothing says reality like sending your husband off into a war zone.  I know that people mean well, but until it has affected them personally and in an immediate way, they really don’t have a clue what it means to be separated from somebody for months at a time.  My ability to just pick up the phone and call or text whenever I feel like it is no longer a viable option and you begin to realize just how meaningful everything in life is and how meaningless a lot of the other stuff really.

 

For safety’s sake I am not allowed to discuss really where he is going and for how long.  Do you blame me? Most people know that I want to become an expert in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and work directly with our combat veterans who are suffering from combat stress.  After the horrors of what transpired yesterday at Fort Hood with Major Hasan, I am even more convinced of my calling in life.  Without getting into the why of what happened yesterday, all I can say is that my heart is for reaching out to veterans, their families and their closest friends and help them walk the road to recovery.

 

Ben has my heart and soul.  Nobody knows the pain of sending somebody off into the unknown.  You are wracked with so many different emotions which oftentimes are confusing.  First there is the pain of separation, then the numbness, then the reality that you just sent off your warrior into a hostile area and there is a small chance that they may encounter the enemy or some other danger.

 

People have been telling me all sorts of things when they hear my husband is deployed.  Most mean well, but you would laugh if you heard the garbage that comes out of their mouth.  “I can’t imagine what it must feel like to send you husband off for15 months.” ….”My boss was a vietnam veteran and he almost died several times.” “What’s it like knowing you will be without your safety net for months at a time?”….the list goes on and on and on and on….

 

It’s been three weeks since he left with a lot more to go.  To be perfectly honest I cry often, but I am so proud of him.  Yes we have made a HUGE sacrifice for the sake of safety and protection of people all over the world, but God is in control and Ben is in His sovereign hands.

computer addiction

The irony that my husband’s first job was called “Computer Addiction” doesn’t escape me for a second.  I laugh but lately have been threatened to instant message him across the apartment in order to get him to pay attention to a point I need to make.  He admits he spends way too much time on the web, but hey, at least I know I will be able to get ahold of him easily once he deploys and so I am not going to nag him about it.

 

Here is all the proof anybody needs…

 

Honeymoon

 

Ironman 5 days later

 

Look at the top of the picture….he is sitting at his computer….

 

 

It is quite funny!  I love the adjustment period…LOL

dreams are reality

 

 

At 36.5 years old I married the one I love…

 

Dreams do come true.  Just believe.

delicate

a rotten day in multiple ways turned into something so much better...without even reading last night's blog, my love showed up with a dozen perfect red roses....

just because.

my reaction...i sobbed.

i heart ben.

Champagne Truffles and Camouflage Dreams

The sound of a kiss is not so loud as that of a cannon,
but its echo lasts a great deal longer.

- Oliver Wendell Holmes

I admit it. I am a sucker for romance. Nothing captivates my soul like the chance to escape the craziness of life, kick back with my journal and write under the soft amber flicker of candles lit up all over the apartment.

I dream about romance. As idealistic as it may seem, it would be so much easier if I could convey this to Ben without having to say a word. To be swept off my feet by my 6-1 blond haired soldier with the piercing blue eyes. Then again, life is what you make of it.

I'm a passionate person. No matter what I am focused on, I insert all of myself into the moment and focus til I am absolutely worn out. Case in point. The past two weeks I have had finals. In all of the mayhem of planning my wedding, I started graduate school and was not prepared for the onslaught of having to write so many darn papers. In effect, that is all I have been doing and I think my eyes and countenance show it.

When I stress my knee jerk reaction is to go sit in a room off by myself, throw on my I-pod and have a quiet time or write in my journal. It is where I am most captivated. It finally dawned on me that I can do something about it.

I love chocolate. I love people. I love the fact I am marrying a soldier. I love the scent of a candle and the way it softly lights a room. I love journaling. I love spending time pampering myself with bubble baths and bath salts. I love a freshly ground cup of coffee. I love fresh roses and flowers. I love to cook. I love Jesus and I love spending time with Him.

I need to figure out a way to merge all of those elements together and make something happen.

Since my world life is about romance, then perhaps what has really been camouflaged is the reality of how much I am romanced by God. I see beauty in everything. The stench of a homeless person overridden by their smile. The chatter of my dog's teeth chasing who knows what in her sleep. The sound of combat boots hitting the carpet after a long day. The sight of a rainbow stretched perfectly across the sky.

I have been dreaming of champagne truffles and camouflage. My wedding and the deployment. My idea of romance and being romantic. I think I can merge it all together and make it happen...somehow, someway....

What Makes Them HEROES?

Lately I have been emotionally ballistic. I have exactly one month to go til the wedding and 2.5 months til Ben deploys for 13 months. He doesn't know how to deal with me sometimes. Heck, I don't know how to handle myself either. Reality has pierced my heart and no longer do I subscribe to the idea of love dictated by an exhaustive bucket list of who my dream guy is...and you know what, I have been captivated. My warrior guy smells like a man after 12 hours on the job, makes sure I am told every day what I mean to him and never gave up while pursuing me. He has become my hero, my rescuing knight, the stallion I always talk about...

I finally surrendered. It took months of fighting it, fighting him and fighting myself. After all, it takes one heck of a man to cause a woman who normally flees or avoids pain, to face herself and not run away. I have never been more scared or more passionate about the situation. So, tentatively, I embrace the unknown and step out boldly to walk the journey with my hero, the love of my life, Ben.

This e-mail arrived in my inbox earlier. It is an excerpt from one of my favorite books and captures so eloquently my thoughts about him. Enjoy...

"That strength so essential to men is also what makes them heroes. If a neighborhood is safe, it's because of the strength of men. Slavery was stopped by the strength of men, at a terrible price to them and their families. The Nazis were stopped by men. Apartheid wasn't defeated by women. Who gave their seats up on the lifeboats leaving the Titanic, so that women and children would be saved? And have we forgotten—it was a Man who let himself be nailed to Calvary's Cross. This isn't to say women can't be heroic. I know many heroic women. It's simply to remind us that God made men the way they are because we desperately need them to be the way they are. Yes, a man is a dangerous thing. So is a scalpel. It can wound or it can save your life. You don't make it safe by making it dull; you put it in the hands of someone who knows what he's doing.

If you've spent any time around horses, you know a stallion can be a major problem. They're strong, very strong, and they've got a mind of their own. Stallions typically don't like to be bridled, and they can get downright aggressive—especially if there are mares around. A stallion is hard to tame. If you want a safer, quieter animal, there's an easy solution: castrate him. A gelding is much more compliant. You can lead him around by the nose; he'll do what he's told without putting up a fuss. There's only one problem: Geldings don't give life. They can't come through for you the way a stallion can. A stallion is dangerous all right, but if you want the life he offers, you have to have the danger too. They go together. (Wild at Heart)"

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Jesus Perfume

My good friend Heidi has an obsession with something she calls her Jesus perfume. The average person wrinkles their nose at it, but I too have become captivated by the essence of it and now proudly wear it every chance I can.

Jesus perfume is the smell a homeless person leaves on your clothing after you have greeted them with a huge hug and smile. It is the essence of servitude and the essence of Jesus. Easter Sunday I walked away from the park with its scent permeating every inch of my sweater and hair, and I couldn't have been happier. It was a day filled with the opportunity to love people and understand the true meaning of Easter.

Yesterday close to 200 homeless people were served and even more amazing are the numbers of volunteers who stepped forward to serve alongside us. 49 showed up and gave up part of their Easter to help. Even more beautiful is the exponential growth we are experiencing as people have stepped out of their comfort zones to serve. Each week, without fail, the mass of people congregated down by the tennis courts has definitely caught the attention of more than one observer and somebody new steps forward to get involved. We have all been humbled watching God grow, nurture and provide for this ministry.

There is so much more to it than just feeding and what I am about to write pushes me out of my comfort zone. Cooking food and serving it is a very important and desperately needed thing, but I am challenging all who want to really make an impact to embrace what I am about to say prayerfully and earnestly. This has been weighing heavily on my heart for the past few weeks and I can no longer stay silent about it. Feeding the body is one thing, but coming from behind the table to interact and get in the lives of the homeless is something entirely different. I sense God weeps over His children struggling with displacement or various addictions and it drives me to my knees to stand in the gap and pray.

Here is why my heart has been provoked to be counted faithful in my objective to get every single broken life restored back to God. More than one homeless person has remarked to us that their sole reason for coming down to the park week after week is for the hug and smile they know they will get. Have you ever experienced the reality of a grown broken man sobbing in your arms while they candidly state that your hug is the first human physical contact they have had all week? It destroys me everytime.

Recognizing that life comes at us in stages, my challenge is this: If you are comfortable feeding them, will you take the next step and unconditionally love them? Will you put on the cloak of loving our Savior and proudly wear the essence of His perfume?


Matthew 25:31-45"When he finally arrives, blazing in beauty and all his angels with him, the Son of Man will take his place on his glorious throne. Then all the nations will be arranged before him and he will sort the people out, much as a shepherd sorts out sheep and goats, putting sheep to his right and goats to his left.
34-36"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Enter, you who are blessed by my Father! Take what's coming to you in this kingdom. It's been ready for you since the world's foundation. And here's why:

I was hungry and you fed me,
I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,
I was homeless and you gave me a room,
I was shivering and you gave me clothes,
I was sick and you stopped to visit,
I was in prison and you came to me.'

37-40"Then those 'sheep' are going to say, 'Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you a drink? And when did we ever see you sick or in prison and come to you?' Then the King will say, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.'

41-43"Then he will turn to the 'goats,' the ones on his left, and say, 'Get out, worthless goats! You're good for nothing but the fires of hell. And why? Because—

I was hungry and you gave me no meal,
I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,
I was homeless and you gave me no bed,
I was shivering and you gave me no clothes,
Sick and in prison, and you never visited.'

44"Then those 'goats' are going to say, 'Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or homeless or shivering or sick or in prison and didn't help?'

45"He will answer them, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me—you failed to do it to me.'
46"Then those 'goats' will be herded to their eternal doom, but the 'sheep' to their eternal reward."

The Snowball Effect in Savannah

Hinshaw: What would Wesley do?
creede hinshaw Friday, March 13, 2009 at 12:30 am

(Photo: Savannah Morning News)



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This is a true story about two metal outstretched hands on Reynolds Square.
I basked in the sunshine last Friday morning on a park bench in Reynolds Square (the northernmost square on Abercorn Street), having pedaled my bike downtown in the glorious weather. Azaleas were already abloom there. A mockingbird graced the square with song and a honeybee perched on my blue jeans enjoying the sunshine with me.

A bronze John Wesley presides over Reynolds Square, standing atop a pedestal and garbed in his English vestments, his left hand holding a bible and his other arm outstretched in the direction of the Lucas Theatre. The nearby historical marker quotes the sculptor as saying, "Wesley's right hand is stretched out in love."

On a bench across the way sat a woman with a hooded sweatshirt and a plastic bag stuffed with her possessions. Soon a lanky blue jeans-clad man, carrying a bedroll sat on the bench next to mine. He lights a cigarette and we strike up a conversation.

He is in his early 50s, he says, an ex-con twice over having spent 10 years "paying his debt to society" as he describes it. He's been in Savannah six months and wants to find a full-time job as a roofer or a carpenter, but nobody's hiring... especially ex-cons.

He gets odd jobs, but never enough to afford a room for the night. And so he sleeps in ditches and homeless shelters. We talk about the twists and turns of life. He says he would never have imagined 30 years ago that he'd in his present situation. I ask him about his parents. Could he stay with them? They are in their late 70s, he says, and it's all they can do to care for themselves, so he doesn't burden them.

He's come to Reynolds Square because Christ Church serves a free sack lunch later in the morning and he's going to wait in line soon. I must look trustworthy to him because he asks me if I'll watch his bedroll while he finds a bathroom.

Returning to the square he moves to "my" bench and spotting my newspaper asks if he can read the sports section. He reads while I write in my journal. We talk some more and he is on his way.

Later, as I leave the square, I notice the depiction of another outstretched hand, this one emblazoned on a metal sign affixed to a post at about eye level. The open palm of the hand has 40 cents falling into it, dropping as if from heaven. But the hand is encircled in bright red with a red slash running diagonally across the palm. Beneath this symbol are the words:
NO PANHANDLING
City Code 9-1001

I am glad this warning stands at John Wesley's back where he cannot gaze upon it. I believe he would disapprove.

The benches in the square are not church pews, but they could be. And the people sitting on these benches, many of them poor, are not Wesley's parishioners, but they probably would have been.

It may be against the law to beg for food or money in Savannah. But it's not against the law to give voluntarily, and I'm glad churches are freely doing so.

Rev. Creede Hinshaw is pastor at Wesley Monumental United Methodist Church in Savannah.

_________________________________________________________________
One of my friends who is also passionate about ministering to the homeless called me up to tell me about this story. The Divine love of our Heavenly Father is causing a snowball to take effect concerning the story of the man featured in this article, for it is the story of my Flower In The Ditch told through the eyes of one of the most influential figures in Savannah, the Reverend Creede Hinshaw.

My flower in the ditch text messages me constantly. I just got off the phone with him after shooting him a message in response to the article. He told me that the entire conversation he had with the Reverend happened the MORNING AFTER we took him his replacement blankets. The most humbling part of this entire situation, is that earlier on in that week I took my flower to breakfast at Panera Bread and we prayed for Divine Appointments to start happening in his life.

I have goosebumps at the moment. There is no doubt in my mind that our Heavenly Father has stepped in and is moving on his behalf. Keep praying people. This is no mere coincidence. This man needs something to happen in his life and soon. What is even more challenging is the fact that he loves God so much that he will often stay up the entire night just to read his precious scriptures and more often than not, a few of us will wake up in the morning to find a bunch of text messages from our flower challenging us to look up a certain passage and talk to him later about it.

I for one am humbled by this entire situation and will not back down from the task of serving my Heavenly Father. After all, if you do anything to the least of these, you do it as unto our Lord Jesus. How are you taking care of your own flower gardens?

No Room At the Inn

My flower in the ditch called Rhonda and I last night around 8pm. Somebody had stolen his blankets and he had nothing to wrap himself up for the night. When I saw him Monday morning, I asked him if he needed a blanket and he said no. Now his situation had changed and last night's call was a cry for help. He told us that he had tried to get a spot on the floor at the local mission, but there was no room for him at the inn. He had no other choice but to walk around downtown Savannah all night or call us for help.

It is a big deal when a friend who is homeless reaches out and calls you. It means you have gained their trust and they know you have their best interest at heart. Most do not trust others since situations such as people stealing their bedding are common. Once I heard his cry for help, I kicked into high gear, grabbed two warm blankets and got Ben to drive Rhonda and I downtown to one of the squares to him.

He was shivering cold and pacing around when we found him. Little did he know that his night was about to turn for the better. Even though there was no room for him at the Inn, we had called en-route to the square, talked to the people who ran the mission and had them make an exception for our Flower. Getting in the truck, we made a quick pitstop at Starbucks, got him some coffee so he could warm up and drove him across town to the Inn. The look of relief on his face was amazing.

This situation humbles me and I am reminded of another person who slept in a manger since there was no room for Him at an inn. Think about it, the King of creation was born and forced to sleep in a feeding trough. His family probably experienced a ton of rejection since His virgin mother was pregnant and not married. I can't help but compare the situation between my Flower and my Savior and it is a beautiful metaphor on just how much God intends for us to take care of each other. We are all prodigal children and God loves to hear us cry out for help, for it is the basis and beauty of salvation. Move over, make some room and give our worn out kings, our flowers, a place to enter God's rest.

Flower in the Ditch

I love my Flowers in the Ditches....my homeless peeps...the ones who daily motivate me to step out of my own comfort zone and take a good, hard look at my life and measure my ability to love by putting others before myself. Well this week has been no exception. I have a friend who has had the roughest twenty years of his life. He loves God, but has spent the past 10 out of 11 years locked up behind bars for a couple of situations in his life that he is paying dearly for...he got out of prison roughly six months ago and has been struggling to find a job and restore his life back to God's purposes. His life is hard. The economy is hard. He has slept in a ditch for the past six months with nothing but a sleeping bag and a shower curtain to shield him from the ravages of Mother Nature.

He is my flower in the ditch because although the world has turned their back on him, he has bloomed where he has been planted. He lives in the most chaotic of circumstances, loves God and the uncertainty of his struggle brings God glory, for in that struggle he has turned his face towards heaven. My heart hurts for him, and I have made it a point of not only praying for him, but really reaching out to him and helping him out any way I can.

This past Sunday night he slept outside in one of the coldest nights we have experienced this winter after Ben and I dropped him off near his "condo". We didn't want to have him walk two hours in the cold and our flower insisted that his sleeping bag and two blankets would keep him warm.

About an hour after dropping him off, the magnitude of his situation really hit me in the center of my heart and I grieved. I had taken Mitzie outside for her final potty break of the night when I started to shiver and complain about how cold I was and told her to hurry up and finish doing her doody so we could get back inside. Instantly God convicted my heart as my mind flashed to the ditch where my flower had laid his head for the night . I sobbed for the next hour and a half while Ben sat there and held me. He understands my heart and comprehends just how bad things are out there for a lot of people.

I pray all the time that God will break my heart for what breaks His...now I think I have discovered what that is and I cannot turn my back on the situation. Even though many are homeless, addicts, felons, and desperate for help, my hope rests in God who created and loves them unconditionally...that means he sees past the stench of their lives and only sees a flower blossoming. I firmly believe he uses people to penetrate the darkness of this world and reach out with His love.

I don't feed or hang out with the homeless to make myself feel better, for isn't that why people party and carry on? I do it because it sharpens me as a follower of Christ and I am filled with compassion for people held captive by their situations. It throws me out of my comfort zone, challenges me to put on the mantle of love, traverse the dirtiest of ditches, reach out and love these people without expectation of anything in return. After all, this is somebody's son or daughter, father or mother, brother or sister, friend, family member and fellow believer who has no idea how to shake the loose the chains that bind them.

The challenge is simple, next time you encounter a homeless person, even if you don't have any change, a simple smile sometimes makes the difference between a good day for them or a bad one...and you never know, God might change you in the process! We all need to bloom where we are planted....no matter how ugly the soil is around you. Even the biggest pile of garbage and crap is still fertile enough to nourish the tiniest of seeds. Our lives may just be a blip in the scale of eternity, but those little blip are paramount when starting a revolution of love. How are you making a difference? Are you uncomfortably comfortable or comfortably uncomfortable? The challenge is there.....

Perfectly Flawed

When you stop looking for perfection and start looking up to God is when your search to find your soulmate ends. Ben entered my life in the most unexpected way and I almost walked away from him. Quite frankly, he annoyed the crud out of me after only one week of hanging out. You see, he "ruined" my constant search for the perfect alpha male and his presence shut down communication with all the other men I was talking to.

Our first date I told him wasn't going to date him unless he loved God more than me and I think he reeled from my words. He said nothing but more than once I caught him staring at me. Every day for the next four he came over after work and by Friday I was annoyed.

It was shortly therafter that my roommates youngest son sealed my fate with Ben forever. We had all gone out to dinner at Cheddar's and Justin looked at Ben and I and asked me if "Ben was my boyfriend". I said "no, why do you ask"? He shot back, just wondering since you said you went through men like water." I about died!!! Infuriated I got up to cool down and finally cooled off. Ben was patient and tried to calm me down, but I wanted nothing to do with him.

Over the next week I barely acknowledged him and continued to flirt and that is when it hit me. For the first time in my life I missed a guy that I had "quit" talking to and decided to see if he was still interested. So I threw on my ugliest clean the apt clothes, threw my hair up in a disheveled ponytail and invited him over to hang out. He came over within 30 minutes, took one look at me and told me I was absolutely beautiful.

I still played coy with him and he later commented that I was such a challenge to him that he didn't care what it took, I was going to be his no matter what. This was a first. In my past I have had guys chase me like there was no tomorrow, take me out, freak out, disappear and then show up a few months or even a year later to see if I was still single. Not Ben. He was tenacious, assertive, a constant presence and somebody I didn't expect to have in my life.

It took me a long time to fall in love with him, but he didn't care. He was in love. Before he got stationed at Hunter Army Airfield, he told a few of his buddies that he was going to find a true Southern girl and marry her. He told me that he had almost given up when he stumbled across my picture and about fell out of his chair. He never dreamed I would respond to his request to talk and when I did, he wasn't letting me go.

Ben is a dream. Funny, intelligent, trustworthy, patient (except when driving...love you Baby! LOL) and never ever fails to tell me every single day how much he loves me. When I go to Forsyth Park to hang out with my homeless friends, he quietly stands near me so I feel safe and when we leave, he listens to my incessant chattering about how much I love being around my friends in the park.

We laugh constantly, he gives me piggy back rides and we kiss like two crazy teenagers in love. He is my world and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with him.

I share all this, because I fell in love when I stopped having expectations and started having fun. Don't ya think life is so much better that way? Sure it has been a whirlwind romance, but ya'll know me, I wouldn't have it any other way!!!

;-)
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Coffee and Silence

For those who figured it out, since I am not really allowed to go into detail about my job situation, but let's just say that I am on a six month sabbatical from a J-O-B and relishing the silence. I was stressed for the longest time and really started looking for other things I could apply my time and talents with that didn't involve logistically trying to project manage up to 50 clients and advertising prospects.

Now that the stress has lifted, within three days I came down with the nastiest chest cold which I believe is my body detoxifying all that stress. Who would have imagined one's body could handle so much when in a state of unrest. So, I have resorted to relaxing and working on a couple of major projects designed to help and my community and world. Kind of puts things into perspective for me.

Even with a ravaged economy and corporate restructuring, I am not the least bit worried about my future. If anything I am constantly reminded of how much my life is not my own and it is my responsibility to take my God given talents and use it for His glory.

So, if you see me hanging out and sipping on a cup of hot tea or a mug of coffee, sit down, have a cup with me and let's catch up!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

In Search Of Moments

Harried 30-something female desperately seeking quiet time with the hippest man who ever walked the planet. Loves to reflect, worship, journal her love and spend intimate time with Him.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight O God.

I need a vacation to relax and freshen my spirit. He is the only one who pours into me when I am tapped out. Pouring myself into work, projects and daily life. I am parched and desire nothing than to drink deeply from your springs of life.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

The Face that Launched 4000 Battles

I spent my lunch break today hanging out with my friend Megan down on River Street in downtown Savannah. She used to be homeless.
She told me she was going to be working down by the anchor around 1pm and that is where I could find her. Walking down the cobblestone path of River Street, I heard her laughing and singing before I saw her hanging out with her buddies...Megan is one of "those people" down by the waterfront who crafts roses, hearts and crosses out of palm leaves and sells them to tourists. It is how she makes her living and yes she does have a permit to sell.

If you ever have the privelage of meeting Megan, she is an assertive girl with the intestinal fortitude of a four star general. I laugh a lot when she is around, as her sarcastic wit constantly keeps me and my friends on their toes. Case in point. She had never met Ben and last Sunday in Forsyth park she playfully chewed me out for being rude and not introducing him to her. Then to my complete and utter surprise, she marched right up to him, loudly informed him I didn't have any manners and stuck her hand out and introduced herself. My jaw dropped and Ben and I rolled from the encounter. Later on after Latechurch services, she walked up to him again and shamelessly told him she was so glad he was back from military leave as she "was sick and tired of listening to me pine over how much I missed him!" I could feel my face turning 1000 shades of red!!!

Walking up to her on River Street yesterday, I gave her a huge hug and said hello. She introduced me to all of her friends and we chatted for a few minutes before walking off to chat. Looking into her friend's faces, my heart swelled with compassion for them as most are homeless and have been for quite some time. They are a tight knit community that functions more like a loving family than a group of outcasts. Fiercely protective of each other, their very survival is dependent on the other and they thrive because of it.

Megan has a story to tell. A huge one. She has been through a living hell and survived. The sad part is she is one face out of close to 4000 in Savannah who wear the cloak of homelessness. She is a fighter and on the road to recovery for years of abuse waged against her. When I see her I see a face bearing the scars of her own personal war and she is a force to be reckoned with when angry. She is that rare creature who once you meet you never forget.

Most who know me understand my heart for the homeless, but a lot do not understand why I tenaciously spend my sundays week after week feeding them. Right now my friends and I are engaged in an active war to end homelessness. The people we feed and meet all have a story to tell. Sadly many are fighting a losing battle and have been taken captive by their situations. Megan told me yesterday(like she has many times before) that the homeless know who feed and take care of them. Our diligence in loving them week after week is often the weapon used to fuel their hope and break the chains that bind them, but so much more is needed than putting food in their bellies, clothes on their backs and blankets around their battle scarred and worn out bodies.

Think for a minute about what you need to survive this tumultuous life . Little things like getting cleaned up for a job interview become major issues when you don't have access to a hot shower or clean, neatly pressed clothing. How about a resume? Most haven't been taught how to write one effectively enough to even land a job interview. Think about how you react when you walk by one of them. Wrinkling your nose up at how dirty they are or how much they "smell" do you ever take a risk and reach out to blanket them in a warm hug? It's the little things that can tear down the walls and break loose the chains that bind them.

Think about your own lives and your situations. Most of you know that I gave up partying months ago. Taking inventory of my own life, I realized I dreaded going to work each day, yet found myself squandering precious dollars into temporary amusement that left me empty inside. So I decided that in my own misery I needed to make significant changes. Now I take the money I would have spent on a night of carousing and am trying to make a difference in the lives of those without adequate provision or shelter at night. $20 I used to buy two martini's with will now buy enough rice to feed 250 people on a Sunday afternoon and give them the realization that they matter as a child of God.

We all are held captive to our situations and personal battles in one form or another. The difference is once you have been victimized by the assault do you choose to stay a victim or as a survivor do you extend the hand of love and help others overcome. Ignoring and slapping a band-aid over infected wounds within our own hearts and those around us doesn't heal the situation. It only festers and rots the core of who we were created to be.

The challenge is there and whether we choose to battle it or not, we are in a war. How are you fighting? I know that Megan is one of the reasons I do it. For she matters to God. They all matter.

Carefully consider this...what is your Labor of Love...

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Princess in the Park

Her little face reflected innocence, yet her eyes conveyed a sadness not typically expressed by a six year old little girl.

Struggling to carry the large container of rice from my beloved's truck, I noticed her immediately. She was at the front of the line waiting with her mother and siblings for us to begin serving lunch. I had never seen her there before and my heart silently wept for her. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her everything was going to be ok.

Filling up empty bellies, the hot food warmed up 75 shivering bodies, reminding me of what it means to love and be loved. After all, it could be any one of us standing in that line.

A few minutes after everyone had been served, I walked past the little girl and her family and noticed she didn't have a hat protecting her head from the elements. As the temperature continued to drop, I wanted to do something for her but didn't know what to do and I didn't want to be intrusive. It was at that moment God spoke to me clearly and I knew what I needed to do to extend His love. Like a little flag her tiny pink scarf beckoned to me and I knew exactly what would compliment her little outfit. Whipping off my pink Santa hat, I placed it on her head and told her it went better with her outfit than mine.

The little girl looked up at me silently, while her mother thanked me for the gift. I said "no problem", but I was the one who was blessed. After all, every beautiful little princess deserves to be crowned and I was the one who had been captivated.


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Blind Rage and Being Smacked With the Truth

Trust is a core value of mine that is very hard for me to give to a guy I am interested in. Everybody knows I wear my heart on my sleeve and my passion for life 98% of the time allows me to forge deep friendships with people.

I used to open my heart up and jump in more times than I have cared to in relationships with people who did not place God into the center of their lives. To some degree it has shaped my natural expectation of how I am going to be treated in a relationship and if things fall out of my ability to control (based on fear) or my expectations (whatever they may be) I freak.

No more excuses. I sat through yet another week of the Truth Project and came to realize how much my flesh really fights against what I know to be right. That inherently, by design, I need to as a Child of God suppress what I really want to do and say and respond with Godly love and kindness. I don't mean to be a jerk. Truly in my heart of hearts, I am reacting out of fear. What does God say about fear? He has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind. Wow, am I really responding in that capacity? NO!

I must take responsibility for my actions. Stop expecting things to be about me and start to open my eyes to the world around me and embrace the struggle of push forward to be transformed into what God has designed me to be as a whole, happy, child of God.

It's not about me. It should never be about me. I am not a child of this world anymore. I am a child of God and must strive to live my life intentionally, with unconditional love and with the knowledge that He ultimately has a plan for my life that exceeds my expectations. What are the fruits of the Spirit? Love, Joy , Peace, Patience, Gentleness, Kindness, Faith, Meekness and Self-Control...none of which I exhibit when my humanity kicks in fully.

So with great humility I write knowing my entire life has been laid down at the feet of Jesus in an act of surrender.

No longer can I act like a victim or that I have been slighted. I need to walk with the knowledge that I am responsible for my responses and the eyes of the world are watching to see how I reacted.

I am embarassed to say the least about my behavior, but there is no better salve for a wound that keeps festering than placing it out there for everybody to be made aware of and to serve as a reminder to me of my fallibility and need for God to be the my number one priority in life.

A few months ago I wrote on forgiveness and the act of it. Well now I can see where I really need to take it one step forward and be alert, for the enemy is like a roaring lion seeking who he can devour. I need to take a deep breath and think before I speak. Sure passion is a great thing to embrace, but only in the right context. I am tired of making excuses. So now I take responsibility.

I am sorry.

Stoking the Fire

The tangible absence of his smile, glance and embrace cracks wide my soul, exposing the true depth of my heart.

Never shun the gift of love or hide it under a bushel to be darkened by fear. For it is in the cocoon of our existence a metamophosis of beauty reflects the sights and sounds of Our Created intention.

O wise and brave Warrior, life's daily battles attempt to thwart the fires of our existence, but the glowing embers of our love beckons the other to rest and bask in the serenity of Divine purpose.

The marked absence of you tinges my being with a longing to be near you, but pain serves me a reminder that growth can only occur under the constraints of being stretched.

Til I am with him again Father, stoke the fires of my soul and each morning ignite our hearts with fresh passion and fire for the other.

I love You God. You have created me for such a life as this and never again will I forsake your words or quiet beckoning. Let my faith rise and cause Love to flow out of me igniting others with a passion for You.

Let the love my Beloved and I have for each other reflect the love and passion we have for You and may we never esteem the other above Your will for our lives.

Life is Romance...stoke the fires of our existence and kindle afresh a hunger and thirst that only You can fill.


Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Fuel Fast

At what point do you say enough is enough and make more of an effort to use your legs to transport you from point A to B?

Considering gas costs are rising rapidly due to Hurricane Ike and locally fuel is expected to hit $5 a gallon over the weekend, my speculation is that less demand on the consumption of fuel relieves two major issues Americans fight everyday...obesity and laziness.

May I suggest we make an effort to get off of our lazy butts, walk around more, be more disciplined in what we indulge in for luxury and quit fussing about the price of fuel?

How do I know it works? Well, does losing forty pounds in the past year motivate you to take a closer look at your lifestyle? How about the exchange of one luxury for another...Yes I pay for my lakefront apt, but the tradeoff has been no cable, fewer trips to dine out (thus eliminating the need to gorge) and more opportunities to build relationships with friends and family...

I would much rather activate social responsibility by sponsoring my two Rwandan World Vision children and making sure their quality of life improves dramatically over buying the latest Fall fashion. Don't get me wrong, I love to look smoking hot, but the impulse is carefully considered prior to making the purchase and I balance it all out needs vs wants.

Now if I can just break my Blackberry addiction...

How are you adjusting your life in this bulimic economy?
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Anticipation fuels me more than caffeine?

So my week of craziness is quickly drawing to a close and I am once again wide awake at 1 in the morning. Perhaps a baseball bat cracked across the back of my noggin would suffice, but on second thought I kind of like anticipating when I will hear from Favian next.

After 15 months deployed in the the sandbox my guy is on his way home and in 5 short days I leave to meet up with him in Germany. Even the marked absence of normal day to day communication with him isn't unnerving the situation for I have kept myself focused at my office and home.

Do you remember as a child lying awake at night waiting for Christmas morning to finally arrive? I have the same feverish excitement captivating my emotions and propelling me forward. The life defining moments leading us in our journey towards each other, has fired every nerve ending in my body and I am acutely aware of everything going on around me. Forget any need for caffeine as life's motivation...this time it is the realization God had something far greater than either one of us could even imagine.

So, once again I am blogging with Blackberry in hand, trying to lassoe a million thoughts stampeding my brain. Tuesday is just around the corner and I have no problem staying occupied with my day to day enjoying life's Great Romance.

You may not believe in fairytales, but I sure as heck am living a real live one. I cannot wait to trade a lifetime of sorrow for the embrace and kiss of my FAVorite prince and at 35, he has been well worth the wait!!!

Idealistic? Perhaps, but how do you anticipate those moments that define the adventure of life? I would much rather live with my head in the clouds, optimistically believing God loves and takes care of me, than undergoing a painful extraction of my head out of my backside, obstructing my view of God's fulfillment of purpose in my life.

So here I am anticipating the moment I embrace my FAV guy for we are making memories of us. Anticipation it IS more energizing than my usual quad shot of Starbucks espresso and that is alright with me!!!
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Insomnia and a Packing List

It really stinks when you know you have to be at work in 5 hours and 53 minutes, yet the thought of falling asleep is an elusive and passing thought at the moment. So rather than attempt to assuage my body's natural inclination towards recapturing beauty, I instead have chosen to do something completely random to fill up my time. Needless to say, perusing the top artist charts on myspace at 2 in the morning to find that perfect song for my profile has left me less than satisfied yet again. Hmm...I really need to get on a more disciplined time schedule or maybe my body has subconsciously started to prepare itself for my trip to Ansbach next week.

Someone asked me tonight if I had started packing yet. Yeah right. We are talking about me, Laura, the person with a right brain tendency, who tends to let information rattle around in her brain until a system of acceptable organization clarifies her strategy and THEN applies a series of tactics to achieve her ultimate goal. Having just said this, more often than not, I do tend to wait til the last minute to pack for any trip. I guess it has always been part of my so called adventure in life. Of course, I would much rather have everything packed so I have enough time to kick back and mentally prepare myself for one heck of a trip.

I suppose I could spend all day Saturday packing, but that defeats the purpose of a relaxing weekend away from the stress of work. Hmm....considering I already made out several lists, I think I will do what I do best which is relax and enjoy the last few remnants of available beach time before Fall descends upon Savannah. The packing will just have to wait.

Test

Hey everybody I am turning into such a wired freak that I thought I would test out this new feature on my Blackberry. Now if somebody can tell me what I am doing right or wrong I would be ecstatic!!!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Cat and Dog Theology

Stepping into the cool darkness of my apartment my feet were almost knocked out from underneath me by a flash of beige and black fur assaulting me at the door. Mitzy in her enthusiasm to greet me almost took out a chair and lamp in the process, but I didn't care for her for it was in that very moment I felt loved and wanted by somebody who didn't care if I loved her back in return. She just wanted affection and lots of it. Even feeding and freshening up her water bowl did not stop the wag of her tail or the constant licks she lavished on me. She seemed to inherently sense that I was home and wanted nothing more than to hang out with me for a while.

On the other side of the equation my two felines could have cared less if I walked in door other than to merely look up at me in sheer boredom, dropping their heads back down to catnap or preen. The only time I got any attention from them was either when they wanted food or for me to turn on the faucet in the sink. Their curiousity marked their general entrances in the room, but for the most part didn't dare get within 5 feet of me or risk getting torn apart limb to limb by an exuberant Tibbie. Their self reliance and focus was evident, for it was all about them.

The way people live their Christian walk is alot like cats and dogs. When we pray, is it to ask God for things to satisfy me me me like a cat or are we like dogs where we have no other joy than to lavish our love and affections on our Heavenly Father and His delight is evident in us by the amount of attention He gives us back in return.

Here is the perfect litmus test. When you pray, do you pray out of wants and needs, or do you pray because you love God and want to tell him? Is your prayer life marked like a cats where it is centered around you or is it like that of a dog where you love love love?

Think about it...No really...Think about it long and hard.

Compassion

Ask and you shall receive, knock and the door will be open to you. Each and every morning as I awaken, I am reminded of the grace of God, His overwhelming love in my life and a desire to live my life with Passion. Recently I experienced a major falling out with a group of people that shook me to the very core and essence of my being. They aren't bad people, but in the realm of my existence I had merely grown apart from their perspective in living and simply did not have the same objective in life.

A few weeks ago I wrote about forgiveness and the choice to love unconditionally even when it was the hardest thing to do. Now looking back, I can honestly say that the decision to act has now been confirmed through my feelings...I feel the depth of forgiveness and now see them through the eyes of compassion. To shut my mouth when all I want to do is defend my position is a very humbling place to be in...I am passionate about everything I do in life and defying my carnal nature and actively do something despite retaliation by others is more powerful than anything one can experience.

Think about it. We are all participants in the game of life, but like any game there is room for only a handful of players for your game and the stands are filled with spectators who fill no other purpose other than to observe the game and input their criticism and observation. Do you listen only to them or to your Head coach who knows what is best for your life?

I have chosen to take the latter road. As many of my girlfriends have become aware of, I recently had the opportunity to go out on a date with a former NFL Center who seemed to have the ideal life except for one major thing...Christ was not the number one priority in his life and that became a real problem for me. He threw around his status and his wealth in a manner that made me stop and recognize that those two things were the only thing in life that defined him. In discussing the issue further, he told me that he could have any woman in the world and he had pinpointed me as the one he had re-arranged his schedule to take to dinner. I wasn't a priority and that was the defining moment for me. I made other plans to go on a retreat and at the last second he decided to make the trip in his $200,000 automobile, but I could have cared less. What if he got in an accident? What if God took it all away like JOB? Money comes and money goes, but the character of a person defines their life. In reality, I realized that what defined him wasn't good enough, for he may have had status, but he wasn't bigger than the Creator of the Universe.

What defines you? If everything was to be taken away from you today..could you look God fully in the face unashamed and know that you have been placed under a mantle of His Grace, that you have passionately pursued Him for every area of your life and that you have the compassion to pour into others as an extension of yourself. I am far from perfect, but am striving to live a blameless life and put the past behind me. I pray for you that God would bless your life today, that you radiate with His presence and you find ways to be captivating, not out of your own selfishness but because of His mercy and love for you.

What defines me? I pray and hope the next few months would really show a transformation in how the character of who I am on the inside be manifested on the outside in what I do to share the love of Christ with others and not come across as patronizing to those who don't understand.

In His Grip....

Laura Aka Betty Rocker

The Giant Kiss

Life is not a game of striving and indulgence. It is not a long march of duty and obligation. It is not, as Henry Ford once said, "one damn thing after another." Life is a desperate quest through dangerous country to a destination that is, beyond all our wildest hopes, indescribably good. Only by conceiving our days in this manner can we find our way safely through. You see, different roads lead different places. To find the Land of Desire, you must take the journey of desire. You can't get there by by any other means. If we are to take up the trail and get on with our quest, we've got to get our hearts back, which means getting our desire back.
-Desire...John Eldredge

Stepping out into the heat and humidity of the morning, I gazed up into the sky in a moment of reflection and was greeted by the sight of a giant X ripped across the sky. The after effects of a Air Force Jet marked the sky in a smoky crisscrossed trail. Gazing up in wonderment, I felt the love of God and it was at that moment I realized He had sent me a gigantic kiss to greet my day. As small as I feel under the weight of healing the wounds of my past, He has been the one constant in all of my life. His perfection marks my unperfection. His unwavering love dispels my wavering. His grace covers me when my humanity shines forth.

Waves of emotional attacks have unleashed against my soul over the past several weeks as I have travelled the path towards wholeness. My desert of testing has left me panting for water and sustenance and the only thing bringing me peace are the moments spent quietly communing with my Heavenly Father. As the wounds of my past are exposed and its infections cleaned out, I draw strength from the words which leap off the page at me through scripture and the resonating sounds of a surrendered heart worshipping a Heavenly Father who is the only thing that can rescue us in life.

Emotional sewage has tired me. The heat of the Refiner's fire has forced the dross of sin in my life to rise to the top. As God reveals and brings the sin to the surface, I feel the weight lifting and healing power purifying me. I no longer desire to live behind a wall compounding the aches and pangs of living and instead choose to confront the pain head on so that I may live life to the fullest.

Psalm 63:1-8
God--you're my God! I can't get enough of you!
I've worked up such hunger and thirst for God, traveling across dry and weary deserts.
So here I am in the place of worship, eyes open, drinking in your strength and glory.
In your generous love I am really living at last! My lips brim praises like fountains. I bless you every time I take a breath; My arms wave like banners of praise to you.
I eat my fill of prime rib and gravy; I smack my lips. It's time to shout praises!
If I'm sleepless at midnight, I spend the hours in grateful reflection. Because YOU've always stood up for me, I'm free to run and play. I hold on to you for dear life, and you hold me steady as a post.

Wow, man may fail me, but YOU have always stood up for me. X marks the spot, the adventure has begun...