Blessed…Undeservingly.

I’m often cognizant of the “big” blessings in my life – those “things” (for lack of a better term) that He has obviously blessed me with: a great job, supportive friends, a reliable car, adorable cats, a loving family, and sweet tea.

And yet I frequently forget to give thanks for those seemingly simple blessings that I enjoy each and every day:

Paved roads

The ability to see, hear, taste, touch, and smell

Running water

Hot meals readily available

Clothes – let alone an overabundance of shoes

Heat and electricity

And so, as I feast on an overabundance of food, enjoy the presence of family and friends, and cheer on the Colts this Thanksgiving weekend, I plan on making a conscious effort to be more mindful of just how incredibly blessed (and yet totally undeserving) I am.

“O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever!” -Psalm 30:12

Karen

I had only met Karen a few times casually.  I sat down next to her and asked how her week was.  

She had been on vacation with her boyfriend in Florida, which explained her incredible tan.  But the week wasn’t all fun and games.  The boyfriend made some extremely hurtful comments on the drive home.  12 hours of silence later, they were home, but time did not heal her wounds.

Karen, you deserve for a guy to find you captivating, not tear you down like that.

Tears flooded her eyes as she looked away.  Her look screamed disbelief.

You don’t believe that, do you? I asked.

It’s hard to believe after all I’ve been through, she replied.

Over the next hour, she poured out her hurting heart to me.  Her first husband cheated on her repeatedly and ended up leaving her with their two kids.  Karen found her second husband’s body after he committed suicide on the day she found out that he had been molesting her daughter.  Next came a broken engagement.  A rape.   Loss of a job. 

Life has not been kind to Karen.  It’s no wonder she doesn’t believe she has value.

Although I can’t fully understand all that she has been through, I can relate to walking through the valley of the shadow of death.  I understand what it can be like to shield blow after blow from the enemy. 

And so I listened.  I nodded.  I sympathized.

I wasn’t able to offer Karen any solutions that day in regards to her boyfriend.  But I was able to offer empathy and listening ear, which is perhaps what she needed in the first place.

One is NOT the loneliest number…

I was getting my nails done a few weeks ago when my manicurist asked, “Do you have children?” 

No, I answered.  She stopped filing my nails and stared. 

I’m not married, I offered.  You would have thought by the look on her face that I had said I had 12 toes. 

I’m young… I have time, I said, as if I had to justify my singular status.

What’s wrong with not being married?  I realize it’s not the “norm” for people my age, but I don’t feel like I should be made to feel like an outcast because of it.

According to the Barna Research Group, the number of singles in the U.S. exceeds the total national population of all but 11 of the world’s 192 nations. 

Obviously, there are plenty of us singles out there.  So why are we made to feel like something is wrong with us if we aren’t yet married?

A Good Dad

One of my co-workers walked into work the other day wearing a large round sticker on his sweater. 

“What’s on your sticker, Mighty?”  I inquired.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said casually.  “My daughter wanted me to wear a sticker today.”

And he did.  I thought maybe he would remove it after a few hours, but he didn’t.  He wore that Speed Racer sticker all day long.  He even posted on his facebook page, “My daughter gave me a sticker to wear at work, so I did!”

And he wore it with pride. 

You’re a good dad, Mighty…

Seeing Is Believing

I’m a visual learner; seeing is believing for me.

Had I been a disciple, I probably would have been with Thomas.  When Jesus appeared in physical form to some disciples, and Thomas heard, he said, “Unless I see the nail marks in his sides and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand in his side, I will not believe it” (John 20:25). 

Raising from the dead is pretty serious stuff.  I’d want the proof.  You may as well have called me Doubting Serena.

And yet Jesus responds in verse 29, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” 

I can’t help but wonder… is he speaking of us as Christians?  Because I have not physically seen Jesus – and yet believe – am I one of the blessed he speaks of?  Or should that verse only be taken in the context of the story – those who believed He had raised from the dead, like He said?

What do you think?

Jesus, Take the Wheel

Jesus, take the wheel
Take it from my hands
Cause I can’t do this on my own

I’m letting go
So give me one more chance
To save me from this road I’m on
Jesus, take the wheel

-Carrie Underwood, “Jesus, Take The Wheel” from her album Some Hearts

A Redhead Walked Into a Bar…

I went to 8 Seconds Saloon a few weeks ago to support Outer Sanctum, a Christian group that was in the finals of their Battle of the Bands.

I don’t hang out in bars too often (or ever), so it was somewhat of an eye-opening experience for me.  It started from the moment I approached the building, when I was carded by the bouncer.  I clearly surpassed the age limit, so I was let in the door. 

I was met by three men taking tickets.  Two of them cat-called me.  The other blatantly looked me up and down.  I couldn’t find my friends fast enough. 

Almost everyone (except me) was smoking.  Some people were stoned.  Most were drinking.  Several were drunk (and couldn’t walk).  One couple was nearly having sex in the corner. 

About half-way through the night, my friend and I decided to be typical girls and go to the bathroom together.  (We weren’t about to go alone.)  That, in and of itself, was an adventure.  One woman was so drunk that she was throwing up all over the place.  Another group of women were smoking something in the corner.  I was scared to even touch the door to open the bathroom stall.

Outer Sanctum was 6^th in the line-up.  They sang lyrics like, “You’re worth so much more than you could ever know,” to this group of people that probably rarely hears such a positive message.

They were overwhelmed at the response.  One woman asked for their autograph.  Another raved about how awesome it was to have a Christian band in the finals.  An elderly woman approached them,thanked them for their music,and said she has prayed that Christians would somehow witness to her son (who was in another band that night).

Outer Sanctum didn’t win the Battle of the Bands, but I have no doubt that they touched hearts.  They shone Christ’s Light to a world that so desperately needs it, to a place other Christians are unwilling to go. 

Well done, good and faithful servants…

November 12 – Part 3

On November 12, my Grandpa T turned “94 years young,” as he would say. 

In 1915 (the year of his birth), the world was a different place.  It was mid-World War I.  The House of Representatives rejected a proposal giving women the right to vote.  Babe Ruth hit his first home run.  People traveled in horse-drawn carriages.  TVs had not yet been invented.  Computers, let alone the Internet, were probably considered as preposterous and space-age as the Jetsons. 

Despite a 6-foot fall off of a ladder last year, Grandpa remains in great shape.  Even at 94, he still drives his Cadillac and lives at home with his cats, Wrigley (named after Wrigley Field) and Tiger. 

Grandpa is the biggest Cubs fan I know.  I’m pretty sure he’s determined to live until the Cubs win the World Series, even if that means living to be 172.

Happy Birthday, Grandpa T!  I love you!

November 12 – Part 2

November 12 marks my grandparents’ 59^th wedding anniversary.

I can’t imagine being married that long.  Actually, I can’t imagine anything that long, seeing as how that’s over twice my age.

Grams and Pawpaw been through a lot over the years.  They raised two kids.  They survived the loss of a child in a car accident.  They have mourned the loss of their parents.  They have spoiled three grandchildren – and one great-grandchild.

Through it all, they still love each other.  Sure, they bicker like old married couples, but (most of the time), they play fair.

If I am able to have a marriage half as happy as theirs, I will be blessed.  I’m in awe of the amazing example they’ve set.

Happy Anniversary, Grams and Pawpaw!  I love you!

November 12 – Part 1

November 12 is a big day in my family, which is why today’s post will be in three parts.  Stay tuned for more…

Today is my Mom’s birthday.  I’m not going to tell you how old she is because that’s not proper.  Suffice it to say, she’s old enough to be my Mom.

A stay-at-home Mom, she dedicated years of her life to investing in us kids, for which I’m eternally grateful.  It wasn’t until I moved out after college and got a place of my own that I realized just how much she did around the house – from laundry to groceries to meals to bills.

The following quote is written in Mom’s handwriting on their refrigerator, “A mother is only as happy as her saddest child.”  It’s true.  When I was in the depths of despair during my divorce, Mom sent me cards almost weekly to let me know I was being thought of and prayed for.  Her nurting motherly nature helps her be an excellent caretaker.  She took care of me hand and foot when I battled mono in 5^th grade.  And when I had my tonsils out at 23. 

 Happy Birthday, Mom!  I love you!