Author: Anne (Grace is my Superhero)

Fear Won’t Steal My Voice

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

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As a young child, I believed several lies about myself.  I felt that I was vastly inferior in certain areas such as physical appearance, social graces, coordination, athletic ability, and the ability to speak with people I didn’t know very well.  I was sure that I would be rejected, so the fear of rejection was my constant companion.  I didn’t know about “the fear of rejection”, this was just my reality.  It was just the way the world worked, and I lived and made decisions to protect myself from rejection.

In Elementary school I always got an “A ”in conduct, because I was well behaved and talked very little.  I didn’t want to do anything that would draw attention to myself. I wanted to hide or at least blend in to avoid any negative reactions.  In new situations with new people, I felt almost paralyzed by the fear.  Faced with a social situation that required small talk, my mind became absolutely blank.  I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

Fear would steal my voice.

This continued until junior high when something amazing happened.  God began to alter my path.  My first boyfriend, Jesse, invited me to his church (Word Fellowship which is now Life Center) for a youth event.  I agreed to go simply because I liked Jesse so much.  I found myself in the church gym, surrounded by the overpowering smell of fresh onions, helping to assemble hundreds of subs for the youth fundraiser.  [Here is a little fun fact: who do you think rode into the gym on a skateboard and was introduced to me as Jesse’s best friend?  None other than Chris Brandenburg!  Of course I was too shy to really talk to him at that point.]

This youth fundraiser was also an overnight event complete with food and fun games.  Jesse was very outgoing and knew everyone at the church.  He also loved the game of bombardment, which is similar to dodge ball.  The thought of participating in anything that would expose my physical awkwardness was terrifying to me.  I was hoping that Jesse would sacrifice his love for the game to stay with me.  But he didn’t.  He left me in the youth room while he returned to the gym.

I found a chair to sit in and felt completely alone.  The fear of rejection had me so paralyzed that I didn’t move from that spot for what seemed like hours.  Other students came and went, some sitting close to me to carry on a conversation.  But not a single person spoke to me.  I didn’t move or even look at them.  I tried to become invisible and wished I had never come.

Yet when Jesse invited me to come to a Wednesday night youth service, I found myself saying, “I’ll be there.”  I showed up that Wednesday night, but I still felt very uncomfortable.  A ray of sunshine by the name of Patty Leach (wife of the youth pastor) shone on me.  She said with a big smile on her lovely face, “So you are Anne?  You are a lot prettier than Jesse’s last guest.” [Disclaimer: Jesse’s last guest was a boy so this was not really an insult to say that he wasn’t pretty.]

Just the fact that someone had spoken to me and called me pretty was very encouraging!  I continued to come for a few months and felt confused by this charismatic church culture.  It was all new and strange.

One wintery Wednesday night changed everything for me – forever!  There was a guest speaker who I had never seen before.  At the end of his sermon, he asked us to come up to the front if we wanted prayer.  I found myself standing in the front with a whole crowd of other teenagers.  I don’t know how I got there, as usually fear would have me rooted to my seat.  He began to pray for the students and they seemed really impacted. A few of them started to cry.

“I wonder if he will know that I don’t believe in this stuff.”  I thought to myself.

Sure enough, he knew.  The youth pastor, John Leach, appeared seemingly out of nowhere and asked if I wanted to be saved.  The truth was, I didn’t know what “saved” meant and had never heard the “sinner’s prayer.”  But I said yes, and repeated the prayer after John.  I hadn’t been looking for God.  I didn’t believe in Him or felt that I needed Him.  Yet He burst into my heart anyway.  I felt Him and I felt His amazing love for me.  The scales fell off of my eyes and the world seemed entirely new to me.

This was the beginning of my freedom from fear!  It didn’t happen overnight.  I came each Wednesday night to youth group which was called Heirborne, but I still hadn’t made many friends.  It seemed that everyone else was a part of the group but me.  I was a silent observer most of the time.  One night I went home feeling the sting of rejection.  No one had been mean to me, but I felt like such an outsider.

“I can’t continue to do this to myself, this is torture.” I reasoned.  I would just have to tell Jesse that this church thing wasn’t really for me.  I was very serious about never returning to Heirborne again.

I never did have that conversation with Jesse. I was probably just too shy.  I found myself at youth group each Wednesday and gradually I made friends.  Slowly I learned that small talk wasn’t brain surgery.  Slowly I began to feel like I belonged there.

Sometime during my high school years, John’s brother Bryan took over as youth pastor.  He had a crazy idea; the youth should help to lead Heirborne.  He chose a group of us and called us the SALT team (Student Action Leadership Team).  Just the fact that Bryan had chosen me sent me an important message.  I had value.  I didn’t have to be like anyone else.  I could be myself, and I could be an important member of the team.  Bryan and his wife Marcey helped me to realize my worth.

We would meet once a week to pray and plan the next youth meeting.  We would take turns being responsible for different parts of the service – offering, announcements, and the teaching.  We would brainstorm wild ideas for skits or fun games that would illustrate the main point of the teaching.  I found myself up front speaking, teaching, or even dressed in crazy costumes doing ridiculous skits.  Talk about being out of my comfort zone!

Just the fact that I was able to get up in front of a group of people and talk was MIRACULOUS!

Once I was chosen to portray a “party girl” in a skit.  It was supposed to be a game show that had many different types of people answering the questions.  I would have never chosen this character for myself, being just the opposite of a “party girl.”  Yet I was determined to do the best job that I could.  I wore the closest thing to a mini skirt that I owned (which really was practically down to my knees).  A friend teased my hair until it was perfect 80s “big hair”.  I got out there with all the other crazy characters and acted as loud and obnoxious as I could, yelling out about wanting a case of “Red Bull.”

I felt absolutely ridiculous, yet there was no fear!  I wasn’t worried about being rejected by the other teens at youth that night.  I was just having fun and hoping that I could help the other teens have fun, feel a part of the group, and learn about God.  I stopped thinking about myself and began to want to be a blessing to others.  Fear became less and less a part of my life as I graduated High School and did missions with Youth With A Mission.  Preaching in front of others and meeting new people from all over the world became exhilarating.

I came back from YWAM and married that kid on the skateboard, Chris Brandenburg.  After a year of working and being youth leaders, we moved to Colorado Springs. We became part of a small church, but after 7 years I experienced the biggest rejection of my life.

I had always dealt with the FEAR of rejection but now what I had dreaded had come upon me.  The church (which was comprised of our leaders, closest friends, and spiritual family – almost our ENTIRE support network there in Colorado), kicked us out.  The main leader, Mary, told Chris that we could no longer be part of the church because of MY iniquities.  She said that I was interfering with their prayers.  She said I was holding Chris back from his destiny and that I was not the woman that God had wanted him to marry.  She said that I would one day leave him.  Once that happened, Chris could return to the church. Imagine hearing these words from someone you honored and respected as your leader.  I honored and respected Mary, but I also feared her. Mary had spoken harsh words to me before.  I had tried my best to follow God, yet she was always able to find something about me to criticize.  I remember thinking, “I will never be free until Mary dies.”  Isn’t that horrible?

Thankfully Mary didn’t have to die for me to be free from fear.  She just had to reject me, and God began to set me free!

I sought God like never before and do you know what I realized?

All of His words to me were good!

He loved me, more that I could take in or comprehend!

He delighted in me and actually liked me!

He gave me so much joy, more than I had ever had before!

He began to show me that the church that had rejected me did not have His heart.  Rather, they were working for the Accuser of the Brethren.  I am sure that the enemy of my soul, that dirty rotten liar of an accuser had a plan that he thought was fool proof.  He would link my heart and my identity to this little church and then turn them against me.  I would finally suffer the dreaded REJECTION and receive a mortal wound that would fester until the bitterness had consumed me.

BUT GOD…

GOD came down and saved me and filled me with His acceptance.  He loved me no matter what I had done right or wrong.  He loved me whether I had accomplished anything important or not.  Because of Him, I had a value that nothing could ever take away.

I had come face to face with my greatest fear.

I had met REJECTION and stared into its ugly, contorted face and you know what…it wasn’t so bad.

In fact, I actually felt honored that a church that had fallen so far from the Amazing Grace of God had rejected me. I wouldn’t have wanted to be the type of person that they would have accepted – one that feared men more than God.  It was a compliment that The Accuser had felt that I was enough of a threat to come after me like that.

Now I look back at that rejection and feel that it was one of the biggest blessings in my life!  I learned so much about God and about myself, and I was set free from that cult.  Of course I had a lot of healing to do, a lot of wrong teachings to unlearn.

Again, Life Center played a big role in my freedom from fear.  A year after that big rejection, Life Center offered Chris a job and helped to move us back to PA.  The atmosphere of love and acceptance at that wonderful church was just what we needed to heal.

I would love to say that now I never feel fear, that I boldly go speaking the Words of God wherever I go.  That is not the case.  Fear, specifically fear of rejection, is still my biggest hurdle to overcome before doing anything out of my normal routine.  Something as simple as making a phone call, walking across the street to talk to a neighbor, initiating a conversation with a stranger, or speaking in front of a group can bring on a flurry of anxious thoughts.  I would rather stay in my safe zone and never have to risk rejection again.  But now, it is usually very easy to silence those thoughts.  I simply stop thinking about myself and ask God to make me a blessing to whoever I am going to encounter.

Speaking at the Propel meeting was just an example of this.  I have enjoyed attending the monthly Propel meetings over the last year.  I have sat in the audience and looked up on stage at the many beautiful women and have been touched by their amazing stories.  Yet, I would think to myself, “I would never want to sit up there with them where everyone could see me and realize that I am not as pretty as the others.”

When Patty called me last week to ask if I would share at the February meeting, immediately that fearful thought flashed through my mind.  I heard myself saying, “Yes, I can be there,” because there was a much more dominating thought.  That thought was, “I know that God has put something inside of me that could be a blessing to the other women…

 and I don’t want fear to steal my voice again!”

Fear tried to silence my voice.  But in God I have found my voice.  Many times when I talk to a group or one on one – I can feel God speaking through me.  I feel lies being broken.  I feel atmospheres shifting.  I feel hope rising.  I feel peace coming down and settling.  When I am in tune with Christ, THERE IS POWER in my voice!  Yet many times I must chose to overcome fear before I am able to open my mouth.

Fear feels to me like Paul’s thorn in the flesh.  In 2 Cor 12:8-10 he says, “Three times I pleaded with the LORD to take it away from me.  But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.  That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

There is also power in my written words.  Power to crack open strongholds.  Power to impart wisdom.  Power to lead others to God.  I have loved exploring the power of my written words with this blog.  There is a certain amount of fear involved with telling your inner most thoughts to the world.  But I am not trying to make myself look perfect to avoid rejection.  In fact, most of my articles are about my weaknesses, my insecurities, my mistakes, and my failures. That is where I find His Grace.  That is where my real power lies – in my imperfection.  For when I am weak…

Then God shows Himself Strong!

One Woman’s Stand : March for Life 2017 by Patricia Leach

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

I am so excited to introduce my second guest blogger, Patricia Leach.  She was one of the first to show love to a scared and shy teenager when I first visited Life Center (Word Fellowship at that time) back in 1989.  She became my pastor and my role model as I watched her live a life of integrity and compassion.  Now I am honored to call her my dear, dear friend!  She participated in the March for Life on January 27th and here is her story. 

Many years ago I walked with my eldest son, then only four years old, in a local pro-life parade sponsored by one of our community’s pregnancy centers. David’s tiny hands clenched the cardboard sign that together we had crayoned in shades of blue and pink. He was focused on our course and held his Walk for Life placard with bold resolve. Beside us, my husband with baby #2 in tow added the exclamation point that we are a family who stand for life.

In preparation for the event and in the simplest of terms, I had explained to David what it meant for a woman to choose to have an abortion. His cherubic face tightened in disbelief that such a procedure could be performed upon a baby living inside its mommy’s ‘tummy’. Far too young to grasp the issue’s many ramifications, his incredulous expression still captured the dreadfulness of this senseless practice.

What began as an impulse born from such a conviction became a reality when I decided to attend the 44th March for Life in Washington, D.C. My involvement in the pro-life movement has included stints of red-taped-LIFE silent protests on the state capitol stairs, an annual Mother’s Day fundraiser – the Baby Bottle Blast – and for many years, our own personal monthly contribution to the same local pregnancy center. But to join the national gathering? I often watched the previous marches from the comfort of my home, admiring those braving the elements while adding my amen to impassioned speeches and faith-filled prayers. Somehow this year was different. I had to go.

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Maybe, too, it was the recent footage of an earlier march that week that motivated me. Other women had descended on Washington for what appeared to be a variety of causes. And though I support their cry for equal and respectful treatment, much of the rhetoric fell flat to me against the backdrop of anger and vulgarity. Their assembling also included an unwillingness to embrace women with my pro-life viewpoint. What was deemed ‘The Women’s March’ lacked the very openness and acceptance they purported. In many ways, they did not stand for me. So early the day of the March for Life, I headed south with a friend to join what turned out to be hundreds of thousands and show my support. In going, I didn’t need anyone to stand for me;

I wanted to make a stand.

Upon arriving at the National Mall, we caught our first glimpses of the day. The crispness in the air hinted to the clarity of vision we would share with fellow marchers. Unfurled in the distance surrounding the Washington Monument, a circle of Stars and Stripes silently witnessed a cause rallying with pride.

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Our feet fell in step upon well-manicured grounds, as slowly we made our way through the security checkpoint and secured a spot to hear the presentations. Chants of ‘We are the pro-life generation’ earmarked this vocal vigil which earlier began with songs of worship, The National Anthem and Pledge of Allegiance. Lawmakers who have challenged the status quo of Roe v. Wade rallied the crowd with hopes of legislative strides. Each succeeding speaker’s message, though all passionate, was distinctly set within parameters of compassion and civility, as if the movement itself had matured and wrapped its arms around the many casualties – yes, the babies, but mothers and fathers, too – that such a history of atrocities had produced. In the press of humanity we stood, fully aware that we were partaking in a moment.

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And then the trek began – about a mile and a half journey up Constitution Avenue to the Supreme Court and Capitol Building. A sea of people – some reports 600,000 strong – formed a wave of movement deep and wide.

Donning colored caps, individual groups could be identified more easily, and it soon became evident we owed a debt of gratitude to our Catholic brothers and sisters for their belief in the sanctity of life. Priests, nuns and parochial students comprised a large constituency, their prayers petitions in the walk to the legislature.

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Other faces, too, formed this underpinning of a movement more energized than ever before. The trio of grandmother-daughter-granddaughter marching together and the countless smiles of so many, many young people, all spoke to the generational value now placed on the pro-life message.

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The faces of black, white, Hispanic and others – women AND men – holding signs, walking arm-in-arm, united for the unborn, for those individuals from a variety of backgrounds too young to stand for themselves.

The exception-to-the-rule faces, courageous mothers and children holding pink placards stating ‘My mom was conceived in rape – I love our lives’ caught my breath and filled my eyes with tears.

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The ‘quitters’, professed former medical personnel who once assisted with abortions – their lives now redeemed by a message of forgiveness – boldly proclaimed the Gospel of peace.

And mostly, the victims, the 58 million sacrificed in our national holocaust, whose voices will never be heard and whose lives will always be missed. Their absence was the most prominent, yet their unseen faces the most cherished.

My son David is now a father. As daddy to our first grand baby, he understands fully what words failed to explain those many years ago. His very hands were the first to greet her as a thriving unborn, she crossed the threshold into this side of living. Someday I will tell her of my impulse escapade and the day I marched for life.

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But that is not what is noteworthy. If my influence has merit, then may I be a role model to how a strong woman stands – for the unborn yes, but also in the many arenas where life is not deemed as precious. She stands for her convictions, and she stands with character. She may stand with others, yet she may stand alone. Ultimately, it is to God she must answer and from Him, she is graced to stand.

 

Something Very Personal By Edna Specht Beyer

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 7 Comments

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I am pleased to introduce my first guest blogger, Edna Specht Beyer, my paternal grandmother.  She actually passed away when I was in elementary school, and I never knew her very well.  Recently my mother uncovered some of Edna’s writings, and I have gotten to know her much better.  It turns out that she was a writer like me.  Or maybe I am a writer like her.

                I had heard that Edna had met her husband Lenard through a personal ad in the newspaper.  The story was so vague that it never seemed real to me.  Well, now I have the true story, told by Edna herself.

“Something Very Personal”

By Mrs. Lenard K. Beyer

GREETINGS from corn belt!  Isolated young woman, book-worm, wishes interesting correspondence.  Favorite novel, “Old Wives’ Tale”; favorite Waltz, Blue Danube; favorite sport, hiking; favorite dog, Irish Setter. Pet aversion, bridge.  Yours?  Corn Belt Miss.

 Sitting in a corner of my quiet little room one November afternoon a good many years ago, I scribbled the above lines in lead pencil.  This originated one of the small human interest ads that filled a back page of “The Saturday Review of Literature” each week.  Having gotten around to launching into this journalistic adventure I had had no idea what I was going to write when I tentatively jotted down my friendly opening line.   After a puzzled five or ten minutes another sentence formed rather limpingly.  Then an idea popped into my head, and the mention of a book I loved gave me enthusiasm.  Now I really got under way!  Dashingly I wrote other favorites, and recklessly topped them with something I really hated, “per aversion, bridge.”  Signing off with “Yours? Corn Belt Miss”, I felt flushed and excited.  Filled with a sense of wonder at what I was doing, I went to my desk and clicked off a copy on my portable typewriter.  Rereading my paragraph neatly typed, I thought it looked pretty good.

Rereading the same paragraph today in a yellowed copy of a 1933 magazine I am surprised at how gay and casual it seems in the company of the “Cultured, widely traveled” woman and the young man “with no degrading habits”.  I know not whether these more dignified neighboring ads brought any results.  I do feel sure that none of the other “personals” on the page could have had more important consequences to their writers than my own lively little paragraph.

But as I sat in my room rereading my neatly typed copy I expected nothing in particular, although I felt excited and filled with a vague sense of adventure.  What fun it would be to look in the mail hoping to find letters from persons with similar interests — anyone, anywhere.  How thrilling the possibilities of bursting the boundaries of one’s familiar environment!  What interesting friendships might come to me!  And perhaps even —- romance, whispered a sly little inner voice.  But no, I silenced the silly suggestion with my school teacher’s sensibleness and authority.

Then an incident occurred which might have kept me from mailing my “personal”.  There was an imperative knock at my door and my mother called to me announcing a long distance call from another part of the state.  It proved to be an offer of a teaching position which had to be accepted or refused immediately.  It was accepted.  But in the midst of packing shopping and getting ready to leave for school the “personal” was not quite forgotten.

“You are not going to send that now?” was my mother’s dubious question in regard to my silly little experiment.

But it seemed that I did want to send it.  So I counted the words, wrote a check to the editor and addressed an envelope to the magazine.  And in my haste I did not forget to include the stamps that were to bring me the letters from the interested readers of my “personal”.  However, I had all but lost interest in my experiment.  As I dropped the letter at the post office on a trip down town to shop for dresses and shoes for the schoolroom I was too preoccupied to feel any continued sense of adventure.  I had entirely gotten over my thrill at bursting out of my little prison of conventionality.  So I rushed on to my shopping and packing.  I was starting to teach once more, and it seemed like any other Fall except that it was six weeks late and I must hurry.

One sunshiny morning in October almost a year later I was waiting in a state of high excitement for a Ford V8 to turn into our driveway.  I have never experienced at any other time such a strange mixture of thrills, curiosity, hopes, fears and excitement as the morning that I waited for Lenard to arrive after his long trip.  Lenard and I had corresponded for most of the preceding year, our letters steadily increasing in number and intimacy as the time went on.  I had spent hours and hours writing to him and he to me.  Early in the correspondence he had told me of the pitiful tragedy of the loss of his wife and new-born child.005  I felt all too strongly how much the letters from the girl in the west had come to mean to him.  As I started at the approach of each passing car I was almost overwhelmed by my sense of responsibility at letting him drive a thousand miles to meet me.  As I peered at the girl in the mirror in my room I wondered again and again if I would look like the person that he had built up in his mind out of the many snap shots that I had sent him.

And he — would he really be like his pictures and letters?

Early in the morning I had put on my nicest house dress and arranged my unruly black curls as smoothly as possible.  Since then I had wandered restlessly and nervously about the house waiting for a car with an eastern license plate to drive in. Should I have let him drive that thousand miles to see the girl of the letters?  Would I come up to his ideal?  Would I like him?  Could we take off where our letters had left off?  When we met face to face would we be the same persons that each had thought he was writing to?  Or would we be really strangers?  I knew what music he liked, what books he read, what views he held on many subjects, what his hobbies were, what he liked for breakfast.  But I didn’t know the sound of his voice, how he walked, what mannerisms he had.  How would we react to each other?  How would our personalities “mix” when we were together in the flesh?  The hours dragged on and I began to think that perhaps he wouldn’t arrive that day after all.  I went about doing some housework absent-mindedly.  It was nearly lunch time now.  By this time I had begun to just glance at the cars going by.  Then suddenly my Mother’s, “There’s a car ——-“.

“It isn’t ——–?”

“Yes it is ———-a Ford V8 and he is driving in.”

Now that my “big moment” had arrived I became suddenly fussy about going out to meet “him”.  My hair needed smoothing and so forth.  Finally with my heart seeming to stand still I hurried to the door.

“Edna,” asked the young man at our front door.

“Yes.”

“How are you?”

“Why – a — I’m so excited I don’t know what to do.”  It was the last thing I had meant to say.  We looked at each other uncertainly for a moment and then a little blankly.  After all our months of writing, waiting for each other’s letters, and counting on each other, we seemed practically strangers at that moment.  He seemed a very nice young man, even finer than I had imagined.  And he was better looking.  But he seemed to be another person.  With bewilderment I felt that the person I thought I had been writing to for the past eleven months had never existed and someone slightly resembling him stood in his place.  His voice was the greatest surprise.  He had a quicker, almost hasty way of speaking.  And I was overwhelmed by the unlikeness of the real person from his pictured likenesses.  And in my confusion I realized that without a doubt he was feeling the same way about me.  A few minutes later I was helping him carry in things from his car and showing him his room in our home.  Somewhat gropingly we were trying to make conversations based on our letters.

The next two or three days I like to pass over even in my own thoughts.  I still feel strained and embarrassed when I think of that stage of our experiment.  Then one dull October afternoon when we were walking in the deserted natural park near my home, we sat down on a park bench and faced the situation together.  We did not really know each other very well, it seemed, and there was great doubt of our achieving the deep feeling and companionship that we both wanted so much. Strange as it may seem, that painful admission brought a new sense of understanding between us.

Then a few days later, on Halloween Eve, we experienced a sense of revelation.  I will never forget that evening — the tang of the Fall outside, the mantel decorated with pumpkins and autumn leaves, the cheerful open fire and the magic of our feeling for each other.  And being entirely feminine I will always keep the dress that I wore that night, the one of midnight-blue with the frilled collar and cuffs and the full swirling skirt that Lenard liked so much.  After that enchanted All Hallows Eve the days and evenings passed all too fast.

Early one crisp frosty morning we stood together in front of my home saying reluctant good-byes.  Lenard was about to retrace the thousand mile trip that he had made alone to see a young woman he had discovered in a magazine  I said that we must put the third of a continent between us once more before deciding that we were sure.  I myself felt entirely sure, but wanted to give him every chance to know his own heart in regard to the girl that might fill the empty place in his life.  As he drove off I stood watching as long as I could see him.  Then I stood alone once more shivering in my wooly white sweater and wondering whether, if I pinched myself, the past two weeks would turn out to be a dream. But many letters and telegrams the next few weeks reassured me that my happiness was all very real.

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002At noon two days before the following New Years, Lenard and I stood before the holly and evergreen decorated fireplace of my home and exchanged marriage vows before a local minister.  A few days later his friends were surprised by the news that he had married a bride in the west.  And my friends were equally puzzled by the announcements that I had married an easterner and gone east to live.  Only one of his friends and one of mine have ever learned how it happened.  Even yet we are sometimes startled by the innocent question, “And how did you meet?” A staid college professor and his faculty wife can hardly answer that it was through the “personal” column of a magazine.

To the natural question of the reader as to how it has turned out I can answer more frankly and say that we seem happier than most of our friends.

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Edna, Lenard, and George

And not long ago Lenard and I told each other that if we had it to do over we would repeat our unconventional romance.  Other results of that little “personal” of years ago are occasional nature articles that we write and publish together, a home that we think is lovely and a son who is a leader in the religious and social work of his city.

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Edna and Lenard’s son, George, my father

Lenard and I and more especially our son often marvel at the part that chance in the form of a small item in a magazine can play in life.

I hope you have all enjoyed reading my Grandmother Beyer’s true story as much as I have!  I think she and I have a similar style of writing.  I am so happy to know her better and to realize that I share in her heritage.  Now I think I will go curl up with Edna’s favorite novel as stated in her personal ad, Old Wives’ Tale, and see it we share the same taste in books.

Why Did I Think We Needed a Puppy?

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment

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I have always been anti-dog.  My house is already full of loud, messy, needy creatures.  What do I need a dog for?

“It would be so good for the children,” my husband would argue the pro-dog position.

“They are so cute!  And it would be fun,” the children would chime in.

“Don’t worry, we will get one…someday…when we have a lot of land and the dog can be an outside dog,” I would always answer.

I had no intention of sharing my home with a stinky, hairy animal that may or may not destroy the furniture and pee on the rug.  God, however, had different ideas.

I drive to a farm once a week to purchase raw milk and pastured eggs.  A few years ago, beagles began showing up on the farm until there were three beagles in three separate pens.  Soon there was a litter of the cutest little balls of fur in one of the pens.  The children would “ooohhhh” and “ahhhhh” over them and try to pet them through the chain link fence.  The puppies would trample over each other to get to the children, wild with excitement.

The children would come home with tales of the adorable puppies.

“Just call and find out how much they are,” Chris urged me.

“We don’t need a puppy right now.  I don’t WANT a puppy right now,” was my reply.

“Just call,” he said.

After I called and found out that each puppy would require a sum of $450, the talk of getting a puppy ceased.  The puppies grew up and were all adopted.  Then six months later another batch of puppies would appear wobbling out of their little dog house and into the penned-in yard.  I let the children have fun talking to them and petting them, but my heart was unmoved.  I never thought that beagles were that cute anyway.

This September, there was a new litter of seven puppies.  The farmer invited me and my children to peek into the dog house.  We saw the tiniest black bundles snuggled up to their mother. They seemed different somehow.  They were black and white.  Had any of the other beagle puppies been black and white?  I couldn’t exactly remember.

Soon they grew enough to venture into their yard.  I felt strangely drawn to these tiny creatures.  They were so adorable.  Areli took a pictures of them with her phone.  Cute, right?

The farmer let the children hold one, and they were in love.

“So how many of them are you going to take home?” the farmer asked.

I just laughed!

The next week there was a new sign at the farm that read, “Border Collie Beagle Puppies $100.”  I started thinking, “Hey, we could afford $100!  If all the children would pitch in, they could cover all the costs and help to take care of a puppy.”

Yet my thoughts scared me!  What was I thinking, even considering this?  We didn’t need a puppy!

I couldn’t get the idea out of my mind.  The children would be overjoyed to have a puppy, and I would love to fulfill their heart’s desire.  I told Chris my thoughts and he said, “If YOU want to get a puppy that is all the confirmation I need!  Call them and ask if we can pick one out.  You better hurry before they sell them all!”

I called the owner, who was the wife of the farmer’s brother.  She told me the funny story about these $100 puppies.  She and the farmer’s brother were planning their wedding and decided not to breed the beagles this season since the puppies would arrive right around the wedding date, early September.  Well nature, the dogs, or God himself had different plans.  When the female beagle was in heat, the Border Collie who lives on the farm chewed into her cage.

I laughed about the unplanned pregnancy that had produced such adorable pups.  I set up a time to bring the entire family to the farm that Friday evening.

On Friday morning I was feeling very nervous about this rather impulsive, impractical, and life changing decision…to go PICK OUT A PUPPY!  What was I thinking?!  I asked God to give me a scripture to confirm that this was a good decision for our family.

He gave me Psalm 34.  I read the beloved verses such as:

I sought the LORD, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.

Look to him and be radiant so your faces shall never be ashamed.

The young lions suffer want and hunger, but those who seek the Lord lack no good thing.

Peace began to flood my soul and I thought, “A puppy must be a good thing that God wants to give to us.”

Later that day, all 11 of us crowded into a room in the barn.  The floor was wet since all the puppies had just been given a bath. They were so little and cute and active!  They would run around wagging their tails rapidly; licking, chewing, and jumping the entire time.  I had prayed that the Holy Spirit would highlight the perfect puppy for our family, yet I couldn’t even tell them apart!  I finally settled on one puppy that seemed to like Ashlyn. I always had thought that a dog would be good for Ashlyn since she loves animals. Cooper and Cadin picked another puppy with distinctive brown eye brows who was identified by the owner as the most active puppy of the bunch.  Areli and Cole had bonded with a shy little girl who had been so scared by the bath, she spent the first half of the visit in her owner’s arms.  Once she was let down to the floor, Cole scooped her up and she fell asleep. photo-10Areli took a turn cradling the sleeping pup.  Cole and Areli were in love.

After much discussion and debate, we finally settled on the sleeping pup.  A sweet and docile dog would be a good complement to our overactive boys.  She was the only puppy that the owner had already named because she was the favorite.  Her name was “Happy” due to her constantly wagging tail.

It was a good thing we went to the farm that night because the very next day, all six of Happy’s brothers and sisters were adopted!  We decided to keep her name “Happy” because we couldn’t all agree on a name.

Chris wanted to name her “Dog.”

Cadin wanted, “Gigi.”

Cooper thought something like, “Skullcrusher” would be more appropriate.

Areli and I preferred a sweet name like, “Ellie”.

Cole suggested, “Gonorrhea,” for the entertaining shock value.

Mercifully, the named had already been chosen!!  Now we just had to wait until Oct 8th when we could take Happy home.

After the exciting trip to the farm, I sat down to read through Psalm 34 again.  When I got to verse 8, it was like a revelation from God.

“O taste and see that the Lord is good;

HAPPY are those who take refuge in him.”

God knew that Happy was the puppy for us.  I felt that He knew it all along, and that He had planned all of us to bless us.

When October 8th came, we were all very excited!  The children held a rather apprehensive Happy on the van ride home.  She had already gotten bigger!photo-4  She seemed uncertain about her new home and finally found her happy place, snuggled in Ashlyn’s lap.

Neither Chris nor I had ever had a dog.  We knew very little about being dog owners.  I had gotten all kinds of books and DVDs from the library which the children and I had been studying.  I was preparing myself for a lot of work initially.  Areli said she would take Happy out during the night.  Cole said he would train her.  The other boys said they would take her out for walks and play time.

I had a vision in my head inspired by the many books and movies I had seen about dogs.  The children and the dog would be best friends, almost inseparable.  She would look up at them with adoration in her eyes, longing to please.  She would join them on their adventures in the woods.  They would become responsible pet owners and grow in maturity.

Three days after we brought her home we noticed something in her fur.  Fleas!!!  Just two of them, but I had never had fleas in my house before.  The internet said that one flea could turn into hundreds, maybe thousands in just a week.  My skin started to crawl and I was officially freaking out.  How do I naturally deal with fleas?  We gave her bathes in flea shampoo and vacuumed every day.

After a few weeks, we were all worn out and it seemed as though Happy hadn’t learned anything.  She hadn’t learned to sleep through the night and Areli was walking through her day like a zombie.  Cole hadn’t trained her to do anything.  Someone was assigned to watch her at every moment and take her outside every half an hour.  Still, dog pee and poop on the carpet was the new normal.

I thanked God that our carpet was so old that it really should be replaced anyway, but the smell and the extra cleaning was frustrating.  Just to make it interesting, Happy barfed and had diarrhea a few times as well.

I began to realize that I really knew nothing about dogs.  Is this all normal?  Is she ok, or is she sick?  What would I do if she got sick?  I know all about taking care of children and babies.  I know exactly how to treat all of the childhood maladies, but a dog I had no clue about.  How could we afford vet bills?  What vaccines does she need and which ones are unnecessary?  Should we get her spayed and how?

I reminded myself that Happy was a BLESSING from God and He would work all this out.

Happy are those who take refuge in Him, I would remind myself over and over again.  My happiness was not in the circumstances but in His unchanging love and goodness.

More weeks passed and Happy continued to chew on EVERYTHING!  We had to keep the floor cleaner than if we had a baby crawling around.  When she got something that could be dangerous, it became a game of, “who can catch the puppy and pry this thing out of her mouth.”

The most distressing reality to me was the fact that she like to chew on PEOPLE!  My people!  My little defenseless people!  Annalise was afraid of Happy because Happy could knock her down.  I would have to hold Annalise or put her in her highchair when Happy was around, and this was incredibly inconvenient.  Courage wasn’t much better, but at least he could run away and climb up on the furniture to escape her reach.

Courage took to hitting and kicking the puppy.  I thought he was just being naughty, until I realized that he was really angry at this new “baby” for hurting him and scaring him.  The truth was, I was angry too and couldn’t blame Courage for his emotions.  I tried to teach him how to play with her nicely, but it ended up more like refereeing a mixed martial arts fight.  Happy just thought they were her brother and sister and wanted to play.

Ashlyn, who loved to play with Happy, would mess with the puppy endlessly.  This resulted in many bites and scratches.  The saddest moments for me would be when one of the middle boys would be playing with the puppy.  Happy would get over excited and bite hard.  The boys would end up bleeding and crying.  My idyllic vision of pet ownership was crushed.

I became very upset over the entire situation.  My day was much more difficult and messy and sad and frustrating.  Why did I think we needed a puppy?  I began to wish that I never had this stupid idea!

Happy are those who take refuge in Him, I tried to remind myself.

dsc_0093The children began to fight with me about taking Happy outside and cleaning up after her.  When I talked to Chris about all of these things at supper time, his response was very simple.

“This is just a dog.  All of you promised to help with her.  If you don’t help, or if you give Mama a hard time about it, I will get rid of the dog.  I have no problem posting on Facebook, ‘Free Puppy.’”

Chris was very serious.  I actually wanted to take him up on his offer!  What a load would be lifted!  Yet, I felt that God had brought us this specific puppy, and it wouldn’t be right to give her up.  I felt that eventually she would be a great blessing to our family, although in the moment I couldn’t quite imagine how.

Dealing with the inconveniences of a new puppy is a rather small trial.  Yet God was using this to teach me lessons I needed to navigate through the real trial in my life; the heartrending trial that is just too deep and personal to write about yet.  I was dealing with a situation that I had always hoped and earnestly prayed that I would NEVER HAVE TO DEAL WITH.  And now that I was in the middle of it, I just wanted to retreat.  To be done, to give up, to admit defeat.

Happy are those who take refuge in Him, I remind myself every time I look at our puppy. Just like this puppy, I know that God will use this horrible situation for my good and bring a blessing out of it.   I can’t imagine what the blessing will be, but I am trying to believe that there is ALWAYS a blessing to everything that God allows to enter our lives.

J.R. Miller expressed it perfectly when he wrote:

“Every difficult task that comes across your path – every one that you would rather not do, that will take the most effort, cause the most pain, and be the greatest struggle – brings a blessing with it.  And refusing to do it regardless of the personal cost is to miss the blessing…

“Every battle field you encounter, where you are required to draw your sword and fight the enemy, has the possibility of victory that will prove to be a rich blessing to your life.  And every heavy burden you are called upon to lift hides within itself a miraculous secret of strength.”

Now the puppy has become less of a trial.  The children had a real attitude adjustment and began helping more willingly.  They began to have fun playing outside with her and taking her to the park.  She began to sleep through the night!  She started to calm down with the chewing and biting.  She actually became very gentle with Annalise and better with the other children as well.  She started to obey some commands!

We take pleasure in petting her silky fur and scratching her belly as her tail thumps on the floor.  We love to snuggle with her on the sofa when she curls up to take a nap.

photo-12 She has stopped using our house as a toilet (most of the time) and her schedule has become more predictable.  The flea infestation that I had worried about never manifested.  Whenever I look at her I can’t help but think that she is the prettiest puppy in the entire world, and I am glad that she is ours!

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Happy is a constant reminder that Happy are those to take refuge in Him and every trial holds the promise of a blessing whether we can see it or not.

America, this is God’s Mercy!

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

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I have never prayed so much for a presidential election.

I have never prayed so much for my country.

I have never sought God more for His presence and His will.

On the morning of Nov. 3rd I was thinking about the article I had posted the night before, Heartbroken and Troubled by the Election? Be Encouraged!

“God, do I have your heart?  Have I heard you correctly?”  I found myself asking.  I turned to the Bible and asked Him to give me a scripture.  I was still wearing my pajamas and doing my morning exercises.  The little ones were playing around me, and I should have been getting on with my day, but I just had to hear His voice.

I opened the Bible to Hosea 11 and began to read.

When Israel [I felt like God was putting the USA into this place] was a child, I loved him,

And out of Egypt I called my son.

The more I called them, the more they went from me;

They kept sacrificing to the Baals, and offering incense to idols.

It was the hand of God that formed our nation.  Yet our nation has largely turned away from our Biblical foundation.  Our country sacrifices the blood of 3,000 children a day to the idols of fear, selfishness, wealth, and convenience.

Yet it was I who taught Ephraim [America] to walk, I took them up in my arms; but they did not know that I healed them.

I led them with cords of human kindness, with bands of love.  I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks.  I bent down to them and fed them.

God had abundantly blessed our country and given us freedom and prosperity, but systematically over the years the government has turned from Him.  Most of us are complacent in seeking him.

They shall return to the land of Egypt, and Assyria shall be their king, because they have refused to return to me.

Swords will flash in their cities, will destroy the bars of their gates and put an end to their plans.

I can see how America deserves judgement from God.  My heart is heavy.

My people are bent on turning away from me.  To the Most High they call, but He does not raise them up at all.

At this point my heart is beating fast.  I am panicking and full of grief.  “No, God!” My heart is whispering, “We cannot endure this.” I continue to read.

How can I give you up Ephriam [America]?  How can I hand you over, Israel [USA]?  How can I make you like Admah?  How can I treat you like Zeboiim [cities that were destroyed with Sodom and Gomorrah but no longer remembered]?

My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender.

I WILL NOT execute my fierce anger; I WILL NOT again destroy Ephraim [America]; for I am God and no mortal, the Holy One in your midst, and I WILL NOT COME IN WRATH.

I did not know this chapter of the Bible by heart, so when I came to these verses telling of God’s mercy; relief and deep, deep gratitude flooded my soul.  I found myself on my face on the living room carpet, weeping uncontrollably.

His word is MERCY!

We deserve judgment, but He has said MERCY!

All I could do was worship Him with tears as my little ones continued to play, unaware of the collision of heaven and earth that had just occurred inside of me.

Then I continued to read Hosea 11:10-11.

They shall go after the Lord, who roars like a lion; when he roars, his children shall come trembling from the west.

They shall come [with eager haste] trembling like birds from Egypt, and like doves from the land of Assyria; and I will return them to their homes, says the LORD.

This election has served an important purpose; to expose the problems in our nation and awaken the church.  This is going to continue!

God is roaring like a lion!!!

Do you hear him?  Will you come to Him like never before to seek Him for the healing of our land?  He wants to provide every American with peaceful dwelling places, secure homes, and undisturbed places of rest (Is 32:18), but it will take quite a battle to get there.

After I read these verses, I was sure that whoever was elected would be God’s mercy to us…and I was about 98% sure that it would be Trump.  Nov. 3rd was my day to spend 3 hours in the Furnace (prayer room) at my church.  This was such a pleasure for me since I love to intercede but don’t have many chances to leave the distractions of my busy household.

Those of us in the Furnace felt incredible faith to plead the blood of Jesus over our land, which speaks a better word than judgement and the Accuser.  I prayed out Is 40: 22-24 which talks about God’s breath as a whirlwind, blowing away evil rulers like chaff.  I prayed that every evil in our government and in our culture would be blown away by that whirlwind and that the Kingdom of God would replace it.

When I returned home I found confirmation to all of these things on Facebook.  The importance of Hosea 11:11 was highlighted to me when both Rick Joyner and Lance Wallnau announced that they are having important meetings on 11/11/16 and Veronica West saw that same day as a day of justice.  Another post from Veronika West went like this;

“DAUGHTER WHY DO MY PEOPLE LISTEN AND PAY ATTENTION TO THOSE THAT CRY OUT JUDGEMENT, JUDGEMENT, JUDGEMENT IS COMING, FOR SURELY I TELL YOU MY HEART OF LOVE AND COMPASSION IS TURNED TOWARDS THIS NATION, FOR I HAVE HEARD THEIR CRIES FOR MERCY, MERCY, MERCY, MERCY, MERCY, MERCY, AND NOW MY MERCY IS MAKING A WAY WHERE THERE SEEMED NO WAY”, says God.

As I was reading these words I had a video playing on another tab.  It was a service in which Dutch Sheets and Chuck Pierce were prophesying over America.  It had just been recorded in Las Vegas a few days earlier.

“MERCY, MERCY, MERCY, MERCY!” they kept saying over and over.

I continued to read the post from Veronika West;

“THIS IS THE 11th HOUR, FEAR NOT, FOR HIS MERCY IS MAKING A WAY, AND HIS GRACE HAS NOT GIVEN YOU WHAT YOUR SINS HAVE DESERVED, GREATER ARE THOSE THAT ARE WITH YOU, THAN THOSE THAT ARE AGAINST YOU!…

AMERICA, I DECLARE THIS IS THE 11TH HOUR, THE HOUR OF DIVINE INTERVENTION AND GREAT REVERSAL!!!

WATCH! HERE COMES THE WHIRLWIND OF REDEMPTION AND RESTORATION, LOOK UP! THE SPIRIT OF MIGHT AND POWER IS RISING UP IN THE LAND, THE GRACE AND MERCY OF GOD IS OVERRULING, OVERTURNING AND UNRAVELING IN THIS 11TH HOUR.

Then I heard the spirit say, “BELOVED HAVE I NOT SAID, I AM DOING A NEW THING? OH YOU OF LITTLE FAITH! REPENT OF YOUR DOUBLE MINDEDNESS, AND YOUR COMPLAINING, AND RETURN TO YOUR FIRST LOVE. LOOK! HERE COMES MY DIVINE INTERVENTION AND GREAT REVERSAL, FOR MY MERCY IS MOVING AND MAKING A WAY WHERE THERE SEEMED NO WAY, GET READY FOR MY WHIRLWIND OF REDEMPTION AND RESTORATION IS COMING QUICKLY AND SUDDENLY, I HAVE HEARD THE CRIES OF MY PEOPLE AND IN MY GREAT COMPASSION AND UNFAILING LOVE I HAVE NOT GIVEN YOU WHAT YOUR SINS HAVE DESERVED, BUT MY HEART AND MY HAND HAS BEEN MOVED TO SHOW YOU GRACE AND UNMERITED FAVOUR IN THIS 11TH HOUR…”

Whether you like him or not, Donald Trump is part of God’s plan for mercy.  Trump will not do everything right, but he is God’s way of resetting the clock to give the church in America more time.  More time to do what Jesus asked us to do, make disciples of all nations (Matt 28:19) which means OUR NATION!  It is time that we stop listening to the media, to people, and to the Accuser.  It is time that we start listening to what the Spirit of God is saying about Donald Trump and the USA!

He is saying Mercy!

Heartbroken and Troubled by the Election? Be Encouraged!

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 7 Comments

 

dsc_0184All I have to do is catch a glimpse of a TV in a waiting room, see a sign in a front yard, talk to a friend, glance at Facebook, click on an article and read it…

And my heart is breaking again…

For my children

For my country

For my church

My spirit cries out to God!  I can hardly articulate my troubled thoughts.  My country seems irreversibly divided.  A great evil has a place of authority and influence in every sphere of culture.  Christians are divided against one another, and many feel no responsibility to affect change in the government. They are content to wait for heaven and don’t seem overly concerned that our nation is going to hell.

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“What about the children?” my heart screams at them!  “What about your own children that will inherit this mess!  What about the children that are being murdered by the thousands every day!”

When I speak out for truth, it seems I invite arguments and attacks.  I want to make a difference.  I want to see God’s healing and righteousness in my country.  But what can I do?

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I turn to God!  I seek His face!  He leads me to read Isaiah 40-42.

What words of truth!

What words of life!

They were true thousands of years ago.

They are still true today.

They will continue to be true forever.

Read His words and let your heart take courage.

While the people rage and conspire and fight…

God is in control!

Is. 40:7-8 …surely the people are grass.  The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever.

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Is. 40:12-13 Who has else has held the oceans in his hands and measured off the heaven with his ruler?  Who else knows the weight of all the earth and weighs the mountains and the hills.  Who can advise the Spirit of the Lord or be his teacher or give him counsel? 

Is 40:15 …for all the peoples of the world are nothing in comparison with him – they are but a drop in the bucket, dust on the scales.

Is 40:22-24 It is he who sits above the circle of the earth, and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers; who stretches out the heavens like a curtain, and spreads them like a tent to live in;

Who brings princes to naught, and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing.

Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown, scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth, when he blows upon them, and they wither, and the tempest carries them off like stubble.

[Men and women fight for power but all God needs to do is blow on them, and the total of their work, time, effort, money, and influence means nothing…and they are gone.  I was reminded of Ecc 3:14 “All that God does will endure.”  All other things will pass away.  I want to join God in whatever He is doing. That is my only chance for lasting significance.]

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Is 40:28 …He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding in unsearchable.

[Aren’t you weary of all this election talk?  Aren’t you weary of the news?  Maybe you are even weary of praying and trying to make a difference.]

Is 40:29 He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless.  Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted;

But those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength,

They shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

[Here is our answer.  Wait on the Lord!  Rise above the circumstances and see things the way He does!]

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Is 41:2 Who has roused a victor from the east [Cyrus], summoned him to his service?

He delivers up nations to him, and tramples kings underfoot; he makes them like dust with his sword, like driven stubble with his bow.

[Isaiah prophesied about Cyrus by name over 100 years before Cyrus was born.  Cyrus was not a Jew, yet God choose him to accomplish His plans.  He used him to conquer the Medes and the land where the exiled Jews were living.  Cyrus brought prosperity back to the land and allowed the Jews to return home.  The “Cyrus Decree” instructed the kings following him to release the Jews to return to Jerusalem to rebuild the walls and the temple and actually provided for the work financially.  Many have heard God saying that Donald Trump will be the 45th president and will be anointed like the Cyrus of Isaiah 45 to accomplish the work that God has him to do in this nation.  If this is true, Trump will succeed despite the opposition because God’s hand is on him. We as God’s people should stand with him and support him.]

Is 41:5-7 The lands beyond the sea [progressives and the Thunder Road Group] watch in fear and wait for the word of Cyrus’ new campaigns.  Remote lands [Democrats and even some Republicans] tremble and mobilize for war.  The craftsmen [Soros and others] encourage each other as they rush to make new idols to protect them.  The carver [Hillary campaign] hurries the goldsmith [liberal media], and the molder [Americans United for Change and others who paid people to incite violence at Trump rallies] helps at the anvil.

“Good,” they say.  “It is coming along fine.  Now we can solder on the arms.”

Carefully they join the parts together, and then fasten the thing in place so it won’t fall over!

[All their efforts, expertise, intelligence, and money can only erect a dead and powerless idol that needs to be fastened to the ground.  When God blows on it, nothing will be able to break its fall!  Their cause will not prevail!  Their work will not endure because God is not in it.  It is true that the idol is energized by the evil powers behind it.  We don’t make war against the people, but the spirits that the people have aligned themselves with (Eph 6:12).  But here is the hope!  The power of the dark spirits WILL be broken, the idol WILL fall, and the people WILL be set free to repent, change, and become champions of God!]

Is 41:8-11 But you, Israel [people of God and America], my servant, Jacob, whom I have chosen, the offspring of Abraham, my friend…

You are my servant, I have chosen you and not cast you off; do not fear for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.

Yes, all who are incensed against you shall be ashamed and disgraced; those who strive against you shall be as nothing and shall perish.

Is 41:14 Do not fear, you worm Jacob, you insect Israel! 

I will help you, says the Lord; you Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel.  Now, I will make of you a threshing sledge, sharp, new and having teeth; you shall thresh the mountains and crush them, and you shall make the hills like chaff.

[Feeling insignificant and small like a worm?  God will use His people to do powerful things to change the landscape of this country!  Jesus has ALL authority in heaven and on earth (Matt 28:18) and He has given that authority to us!  Everywhere we walk, God gives to us (Josh 1:3, Duet 11:24).  Those who do not love the Lord and don’t follow His ways do not have this authority and dominion.  They MAY NOT HAVE OUR COUNTRY!

The day after I read these verses, I read a post by Veronika West that made my Spirit leap within me!  Here is just an excerpt, a word from God to the USA:

“Listen my beloved America, watch for the sickle of Triumph will be used to reap the harvest of seeds you have sown in the past seasons…in this season I shall restore the fortunes of my people…for my beloved America shall not be cut off.”

Veronika saw the face of the future president on the blade of the sickle in the Lord’s hand.

“I prophecy your future president shall carry the mantle that shall make America great once again to the glory of God.”]

Is. 41:17 When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue is parched with thirst, I the LORD will answer them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them.

Is 41:20 …so that all may see and know, all may consider and understand that the hand of the Lord has done this…

Is 42:1-4 Here is my servant [Jesus], whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights;

I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations.

He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street;

A bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench;

He will faithfully bring forth justice.

He will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth…

dsc_0450[How we long for the Compassion and Justice of the rule of King Jesus to be established here on the earth.  It will most certainly be established, and I have a feeling that Jesus will establish it through us, his church.]

 

Is 42:6-8…I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.  I am the LORD, that is my name, my glory I give to no other, nor my praise to idols.

[Those who are now fighting against God will either perish, or they will see the light and join Him!  We can take courage, be at peace, and join our Jesus in His work that will endure!]

It’s OK to be Yellow Goo (The Death of Signarama part 5)

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment

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“What in the world do we do now?”

When one season ends before you expect it to, and nothing turned out the way you thought it would…transition is inevitable.

What will our future look like?

Who are we supposed to be?

What do we do now?

It can feel very sad and scary to face transition.  Yet, transition is just what is needed to form a butterfly from a caterpillar.  When all our plans fail, it could be that God’s plans are better, but we just can’t see that yet.

Signarama had died.  Chris was no longer a business owner, but rather a loader at UPS.  We weren’t able to buy that house we were hoping for or take that family vacation we had dreamed of or even budget how we would pay our bills from week to week.

Driving to Little Buffalo for a family fun day, we were trying to stay hopeful for the future.  I put in a CD of Lance Wallnau, and once again God orchestrated the perfect encouraging word for us.  Lance was talking about transition!  He pointed out the fact that when a caterpillar is in the cocoon, it dissolves into a mass of cells…essentially a glob of yellow goo.

It is not a caterpillar.

It is not a butterfly.

It may not even know what it will become, yet the imaginal cells are floating around trying to locate matching imaginal cells.  When one future antenna cell meets another future antenna cell they begin to form…

You guessed it…an antenna.  Slowly it becomes the very specific butterfly that God had imprinted into its cells from the beginning.  Yet in the yellow goo stage it looks nothing like that butterfly at all.

AND THAT IS OK!

It is ok to have absolutely no answers or clarity during the yellow goo stage.  Trust is more important than clarity.  We can trust that God knew what our butterfly would look like when he created us.

“I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust.  So I will pray that you will trust God.” – Mother Teresa

It is a funny thing to be 40 and not yet know what you want to be when you grow up!  Then again…the possibilities are endless, and rather exciting to consider.

The next time I was snuggling with Annalise and having a quiet time, I asked God a question just for fun. I knew that He didn’t have to answer me; that clarity wasn’t important, but I was curious about what was on His mind.  So I asked it.

“Can you give me clarity on the next step?”

“The Lord had done great things for me, and we are filled with joy.

Restore our fortunes oh Lord.

Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.

He who goes out weeping, carrying seeds to sow,

 Will return with songs of joy carrying sheaves with him.” Ps 126

What a wonderful picture!  Even though we had sown in tears and could see no harvest, WE WILL REAP WITH JOY!  When God speaks a word like that to your spirit, faith and the atmosphere of the future surrounds you in the present.  You feel certain that it will happen right away.

Tomorrow!

Or maybe next week!

Undoubtedly the breakthrough is right around the corner!

The very next day, God prepared me for the possibility that it may not happen right away. I was reading the book, The Cross and the Switchblade.  I had never read this famous book before, and I was loving it!  Right around 1960, David Wilkerson was a small town pastor who had made one little change in his life.  He decided to turn off the TV in the evenings and spend that time praying instead.  One night during his prayer time, he glanced at a Time magazine he had in his office.  On the front cover were the boys in New York City who were going on trial for murder.  They were part of a gang and had murdered another boy.

“Go to New York City and help those boys,” he heard God say.  He knew nothing about the city or about gangs, but he felt compelled to be obedient.

His church sent him on his mission.  As he drove to the city with a friend, they asked God for a verse.  The verse they received was the very verse that God had just given me!  How exciting!  Surely God was going to do amazing things to show these boys His love!

David ended up being able to be in the courtroom for the trial.  At the end of the day, afraid that this window of opportunity would close forever, he called out to the judge with a request to speak to the boys.  The judge had no patience for David’s outburst, yet David persisted.  He ended up being dragged out of the courtroom by security.  He left the city and went back to his friends and family in shame and disgrace.  What was worse, the media had snapped a picture of him being manhandled by the police and put it in the newspaper.  Now everyone could see his colossal mistake.  This did not appear to be “reaping with songs of joy.”

David could not stay away from New York City, however.  The young people living in the violence and drugs of the gangs were in his heart, and he had to minister to them.  He encountered these teens, but he had no way to connect with them, no way to establish rapport and cause them to trust him.  When one of the teens recognized him as the man in the paper who had a run in with the police, they suddenly let him in.  His ministry had finally begun!  The very thing that had plagued his mind as a stupid decision was the very thing that gave him a breakthrough!

He was able to bring many of them to Jesus; getting them off of drugs, discipling them, and training them to disciple others.  This ministry has grown into Teen Challenge which has helped thousands of drug addicts find Jesus and freedom!  That is certainly “reaping with songs of joy” an abundant harvest!  I am sure it has grown into much more than David had ever imagined, but it didn’t happen immediately.

“OK God, messaged received!  I can’t imagine the wonderful things you have prepared for us, and I might not even get a glimpse of them for a while.  I will trust you,” I prayed.

It was frustrating to stay in the confinement of our cocoon of transition.  It felt like a prison, and we knew we weren’t really free after years of striving after that freedom.  We weren’t financially free nor had Chris found his dream job.  I thought about Joseph when he was in prison.  The Bible says that Joseph had God’s presence, His unfailing love, and His favor while he was in prison.  Prison wasn’t evidence that God had left him or was displeased with him.

Our prison was serving an important role in our lives.  It was keeping us safe while God put our butterflies together.  Just imagine if that “caterpillar-turned-yellow-goo creature” was freed of its cocoon too early.  It would never become the stunning aerial masterpiece it was meant to be.  It would simply be a puddle of yellow slime, formless on the ground.

Some weeks later my mom brought over a bunch of clothes she had purchased for Ashlyn.  We sat together on the sofa and “ooooed” and “ahhhhed” over the pretty clothes.  After the fourth or fifth shirt embellished with butterflies, I blurted out, “This is the year of the butterfly!”

It was just a trivia comment, but my own words hit me in the chest like a prophecy.

Maybe this would be the year of MY butterfly!

For my birthday a friend gave me a very thoughtful gift, and on the packaging was a butterfly.  Another friend created a piece of art with names and favorite scriptures of many friends.  Next to my name was a butterfly.

So as I dream of the butterfly that will emerge this year or next year or in 10 years, I will embrace the yellow goo of today…

And trust that God knows exactly what He is doing.

 

Standing at the Crossroads (The Death of Signarama part 4)

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

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“Should we file bankruptcy?” I asked God on May 11, 2015.  What a hard question to even consider.

Quite a few years ago Chris and I had asked God this same question every few months.  We had been living in Colorado and had gotten off course.  We had followed our most trusted friends and leaders into what we thought was the cutting edge of God’s will.  Unfortunately, this led to $70,000 in credit card debt and other bills that we couldn’t pay.

Every time we asked God about bankruptcy, He would clearly answer, “No, I will restore your fortunes.”

It would have been much easier for us if we had just done it!  We could have stopped all the creditors from harassing us.  We could have saved Chris from working two jobs for 4 years!

But we believed what God had said, and we wanted to pay our debts.  We didn’t think Christians should file bankruptcy.  Chris worked hard, the children and I missed him, and God did miracles.  Eventually it was all paid off!

We were convinced that we didn’t want to get into any more personal debt.  When Chris wanted to fulfill his dream by buying a business, we thought that business debt was different.  Almost every business person we knew accepted the fact that debt was part of the equation.

Now we had a lot of business debt and no way to pay it.  So I asked the dreaded question again.

“Should we file bankruptcy?”

I got the impression of 1 Thes 5:18 in my mind so I looked it up.

“Give thanks in all circumstances for this is God’s will for you.”

Never in my 25 years of being a Christian and asking God questions had I gotten this verse with its clear message, “THIS IS God’s will for you.”

                On May 12th someone from Signarama gave us the wonderful news.  There were buyers interested in our sign shop!!!  This was amazing!  We would be able to pay off our debts and avoid bankruptcy.  I was happy, but also sad because we wouldn’t walk away with any profit, nor would our investors.

Chris and the buyers finally settled on the purchase price and the closing date was set.  Just a week before the closing, one of the buyers just disappeared.  He didn’t communicate or return anyone’s phone calls, not even those of his business partner.  The entire deal dissolved, and those words echoed in my mind, “this is God’s will for you,” and “give thanks.”

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I tried to be thankful but I went into mourning instead.  I was weighted down by the thought of all of our creditors suffering a loss because of us.  I wanted to pay them back every penny.  It felt like such a waste; the sign shop that Chris had poured into and improved was going into oblivion along with all that money!

God gave me Matt 26:6 which tells of the woman pouring costly ointment on Jesus’ head.  The disciples were angry and said, “Why this waste?”

That was exactly what I had been saying.  “Why this waste?”

Judas couldn’t understand why all that expense, enough oil to perfume a thousand people, should be poured out on Jesus.  I couldn’t understand why God couldn’t turn this situation around to allow us to pay our debts.  But it was not my place to judge His methods.  Perhaps He was working out something very important in our lives.  Perhaps He was working out something very important in the lives of our creditors.  I didn’t have the ability to figure it out.  All I could do was give thanks.

August 10th was the day that Chris and I went to the lawyer’s office to sign the paper work.  Before we left the house, I asked God for a word.

“Thus says the LORD, stand at the crossroads and look,

 and ask for the ancient path, where the good way lies;

 and walk in it, and find rest for your souls.” Jer 6:16

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This scripture sank deep into my spirit and I sensed that it was extremely important.  We were standing at a crossroads.  We could choose to continue to live as we always had, in denial of these painful circumstances.  We could curl up under the covers and cry for months (which is what I wanted to do).  Or we could stand and look to God.

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We could ask for a new way of living, an ancient path that is not well-known in our modern world.

I didn’t understand what exactly that ancient eternal path was, but I made it my mission to find out.  I posted Jer 6:16 on my mirror and read it every day.  I asked God to show me.

Jesus IS THE WAY (John 14:6)!  He is the path!  To walk in this way is to abide in Him (John 15:4).

This is not about working for the LORD, but walking with the LORD.

This is not a modern course to the American dream of success and comfort, but an eternal path of laying our lives down.

Somehow picking up our cross each day to follow him –

Somehow putting His yoke on our shoulders –

Leads to REST!

Over a year later that verse is still on my mirror and I am still reading it every day.

I am still striving to enter into that rest.

I am convinced that there is nothing more important or profitable that I could do with my life than abide in Christ.

If it took a bankruptcy to bring me to that realization then, “Thank you God!”

Wisdom is More Profitable Than Silver (The Death of Signarama part 3)

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment

 

dsc_0145It is heartbreaking to watch a dream die.  It is scary to watch your livelihood slip away.  Yet, in times like those God draws so close and SPEAKS!  What could be more precious than the very WORDS OF GOD!

I was cozy in my “nursing mother’s room” at HealthSouth Pediatrics when I asked God this question.

“What about all your words to me about Signarama?  Words about success, a good harvest, and a good inheritance that would produce fruit for us?”

“Happy are those who find wisdom and those who get understanding,

                For her income is better than silver,

                And her revenue is better than gold.”

Proverbs 3:13 was the answer.

Another version says, “Wisdom is more profitable than silver and yields a better return than gold.”

                God hadn’t given us the money we had asked for, but He had given us something much more valuable…wisdom.  If we could only identify that wisdom and harness it for the rest of our lives, how profitable we would be!

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I was certain that Chris had gained much wisdom in the realm of business.  I began to ask myself what wisdom God had given me.  I came up with this list.

  1. Ask people to pray for you on a regular basis. Don’t be afraid or embarrassed to ask for help.
  2. Supernatural business (like ministry or anything else) flows out of who we are, not what we do. Who we are (identity) comes from intimacy with God.
  3. The presence of God and our relationship with God should be our priority every day.
  4. God has been purifying our faith which is worth more than gold.
  5. We cannot create or multiply wealth, but God can.
  6. We should live for God’s renown.
  7. We should seek His kingdom first.
  8. If we are not joyful, we are not recognizing His presence because in His presence is fullness of joy!

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I began to review all of the teachings and messages I had been absorbing in the past year.

  1. We should seek God to know Him, not to get a message to preach or even a healing. – Todd White
  2. Supernatural business keys are the presence of God and knowing your true identity. – Lance Wallnau
  3. Without intimacy, there is no fruit. – Heidi Baker
  4. We worship because we love God, not to get something. – Bill Johnson
  5. We shouldn’t ask God to bless our plans. We should find out what God is already doing and join Him. – Henry Blackaby
  6. “The Christian life wasn’t about running like a maniac; it was about walking with God….What is walking with God? Simple. Doing what He asks you to do each and every day.  Living in active relationship with Him.  Filling your mind with His word, and letting that word penetrate every waking moment.” – Phil Visher
  7. “To receive My Word into your heart must be your quest every day. Then you will begin to see…That is your whole purpose now – to walk closer to me each day.”  Jesus speaking to Rick Joyner
  8. The secret source to more success and fruit in business (and in everything) is the level of connection with the very Person of God. – Andy Mason
  9. There is a faith that you can reach out and grab onto. Not just faith for your current circumstances but faith to access a new life.  Reach out and grab hold of your sonship and your inheritance. – Dylan Krause

We may have many dreams and goals but…

God Himself is THE goal and THE prize and THE destination!

Those who seek Him WILL find Him…so how can we be disappointed!

 

 

Too Small a Thing (The Death of Signarama Part 2)

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 1 Comment

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I honestly think that our failures are more useful than our successes.  They certainly provide us with the opportunity to humble ourselves and acknowledge our need for God.  God doesn’t waste anything, and failure is a treasure trove of learning if we will take the time to seek out that treasure.  It is painful to come face to face with our shortcomings, but oh so worth it!

As we were heading toward the end of Signarama, I took every available moment to seek God.  I needed to hear His voice because it seemed like our circumstances were contradicting everything I thought He had told me.

I thought He had told us to buy the business.  Despite my fears and uncertainty about it, He had given me supernatural peace.  I thought that He had promised to prosper Signarama.  I thought that He had promised to use it to bring us the wonderful provision that He kept talking to me about.  Through the four years of running the business, we experienced ups and downs, but mostly downs.  Yet through it all, I had felt the peace of God.

Now that we faced our own inability to keep the business going, I questioned whether I had heard God correctly.  Could I even hear His voice at all?  How could I ever be sure that I knew what His will was?  How could I avoid making the same mistakes in the future?

Annalise was just a newborn, nursing about 8 times a day for an hour at a time.  Nursing this sweet little girl was my full-time job.  I still had to take Ashlyn to therapy once a week at HealthSouth.  Ashlyn’s therapist gave me my own little office to set up camp during the hour and 45 minutes that we were there.  I could nurse, read, and pray in a quiet, private room while Ashlyn did physical and speech therapy.  What an amazing gift!

Each week I would get cozy in a chair with Annalise and a nursing pillow.  I would set out my Bible, journal, and pen on the little rolling desk. All my other children were in school or at home with my two teenage babysitters, and I had uninterrupted quiet times. I would ask God all my questions….and He would speak!  How precious those times were!

One day I was mourning the loss of our dream.  Chris always said during the pain and struggle of business ownership, “It just has to be worth it!”  I always felt that it definitely would be worth it…eventually.  Business people kept telling us that after 2-5 years we would really see the profits.  Eventually, if we had the right team of employees in place, Chris would be able to work less but make more.  He would have the freedom to pursue other investments, to spend time with the family, and to take vacations.  Signarama would be an investment that would bless us for the rest of our lives, and perhaps one of our children would want to take it over when Chris retired.

Yet, we couldn’t make it to the point of earning a profit.  We were facing the reality of losing everything we had put into it and moving backwards in our goals and finances.

It had not been worth it at all!!!

                God gave me the scripture Is 49:4.

“But I said, “I have labored to no purpose; I have spent my strength in vain and for nothing.”

Isaiah was describing exactly how I was feeling!  I continued to read.

“Yet what is due me is in the Lord’s hand, and my reward is with my God.”

Could there possibly be a reward in all of this?  We just had to trust God that He was holding our reward even though we could see nothing good in failure.

When I talked to Chris about all of this, he told me that he had been meditating on the same scripture!  God certainly was trying to tell us something.

Another day at HealthSouth, I asked God, “Was it your perfect will for us to buy Signarama when we did?”

He gave me Is 49:6.

“It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have kept. I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.”

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God had spoken this to Isaiah right after he had lamented about spending his strength in vain.  Isaiah was being obedient to give God’s words to the Jewish people, yet he didn’t see any fruit.  No one was listening to him.  He was probably threatened and harassed for his message, and he couldn’t see what good could possible come from his pitiful ministry.

Yet God surprised Isaiah by telling him that his vision of bringing his people back to God (a vision that seemed totally unrealized) was way too small.  God was telling Isaiah that he would also bring the light of salvation to the non-Jews all over the world.  How could Isaiah have imagined how far his words would reach and how many people would be impacted by them?  For the past 10 years I have lived in the book of Isaiah!  The words of God recorded by that discouraged prophet have been a life line to me!

I bet Isaiah never imagined that a little mom and housewife in Pennsylvania would be forever impacted by his ministry.  Yet here I am, writing an article about him!  I bet most of you reading this have also been blessed by Isaiah.

I was very comforted by the thought that God was going to use our lives in ways we could not imagine, despite of, or maybe because of our failure.  Still, we were praying that God would do a miracle right now that we could see.  Resurrect our business, bring in the finances to keep going, bring us to the place where we could make a profit and recoup all our investment and more!  The days went by and no miracle came.  Why was God saying, “no” to our pleas?

After my time with God at HealthSouth, I began listening to some CDs that had been recorded at a recent conference at my church.  I came across a quote from Lance Wallnau that spoke directly to my heart.

“God says no to what you want simply because He has something better in mind.  If God isn’t answering Joseph’s plea to be released from the confinement of his prison cell, it’s only because Joseph, prophet, man of God, blameless as he may be, has a smaller perception of what prophecy fulfilled looks like than God has.  In other words, he was willing to settle for a whole lot less than God had in mind so God had to keep him in a place of contradiction until the timing was right for him to be released to the greater thing God had.”

Could this be what was happening in our lives?  God had promised prosperity, we had pursued prosperity, and we had failed.  God’s promise was still true, but His plan was even greater than we had originally thought.  Was Signarama “too small a thing?”  Did God have something much greater for us?

We purchased Signarama because we wanted something better for our family than struggling from paycheck to paycheck.  We were in pursuit of the American Dream; that if you worked hard with skill and determination, you would achieve a better life for yourself and your children.

“Is Signarama a picture of what we could do with our own hard work?” I asked God.

“We were with child, we writhed, but we gave birth only to wind.  We have won no victories on the earth.” Is 26:18 was the answer that I received.

Perhaps God’s dream was higher than the American dream?

“How gladly would I treat you like sons and give you a desirable land, the most beautiful land, the most beautiful inheritance of any nation.  I thought you would call me ‘father’ and not turn away from following me.” Jer 3:19 was the scripture I got next.

This reminded me of the book I had been reading, God with You at Work by Andy Mason.  Chris and I knew in our heads that we were God’s children and He was our Father.  Yet reading this book had made me realize that the way we thought and lived our lives were indications of an orphan mentality.  Truly being a son and daughter the way Andy described it was so foreign to my thinking that I could hardly understand it.

He said that the key to doing business in a kingdom culture was behaving like sons.  To live in our inheritance that Jesus already won for us rather than working so hard for payment.  To cease from striving and self-effort and to do all our work out of rest.  To not seek God to attain His blessings, but to seek Him for relationship simply because we love Him so much.  Then we would be able to watch the amazing things that God would do on our behalf.

People in the world are successful in business all the time with no relationship with God.  They have innovative ideas, work hard, and achieve great things while having no understanding of God as their father!  Why could WE not succeed even though we had sought God every step of the way and asked for His blessings?

Perhaps it was because we have also prayed crazy, outrageous prayers such as:

Give us more of you!

Give us YOUR dreams and visions.

Don’t let us fall short of YOUR plans for us.

Don’t let our lives be ineffective.

Let us impact eternity.

We want to see and participate in signs and wonders.

Bring all of our children into their destinies.

Prayers like that mean that a financial success out of our own hard work was “too small a thing.”  God has something bigger for us like he had for Isaiah and Joseph.  Something that requires us to actually become the people He intended us to be.  That can only happen by seeking Him more and more each day.  By being uncomfortable to know that we need Him.  By seeking His kingdom first.

We can never achieve this by working hard.  We can never step into our sonship and inheritance by working hard.  Signarama was all about working hard.  God cares about us too much to let us earn success from our own hard work.  He wants us to become a son and a daughter and to see real success happen out of rest.  Success that He brings about with His amazing power – not our own abilities or intelligence.

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I still don’t understand this whole “sonship” thing.  How can I just accept His unconditional love for me? How can I just live in my inheritance?  You mean I never have to work hard to earn it?  I never have to prove anything?  God delights in me just the way I am right now, failures and mistakes and all?

You mean I never have to worry about provision because God ALWAYS provides for His children?  I don’t have to seek after these things but can seek His kingdom? This I just don’t understand.

But at least now I KNOW that I don’t understand it.  I can ask God to show me and help me.  I have the death of Signarama to thank for that!