Our Love Story is My Favorite!

August 3, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 5 Comments

The first time I met my husband, I was in a church gym surrounded by cheap lunch meat and the overpowering smell of raw onions. My “boyfriend” Jesse had invited me to a sub-making fundraiser for the youth group of his church. I must qualify the term “boyfriend” by saying that we were in junior high, and our “serious boyfriend/ girlfriend” relationship meant that we had each acknowledged that we liked each other, and on rare occasions our parents would drive us to see a movie together. This time, my parents had driven me to Jesse’s church.

It was there that Jesse introduced me to his best friend who had just coasted into the gym on a skateboard.

“Anne, this is my friend, Chris.”

And that was the first time I met him, the man of my dreams. Of course, at the time he was still an awkward teenager who simply said, “Hi,” and then skated off again.

I became very involved in Jesse’s church until it became my church as well. I went to every Wednesday night, every Sunday morning, and every special event. Chris and his brother and mother stopped going to church, so I never saw him. Jesse and I broke up, but stayed really good friends.

About two years later Chris showed up for the annual youth group retreat. During that retreat, I realized that Chris had been an integral part of my circle of church friends before they had become my circle of friends. He easily became part of the gang again. We all had a lot of fun.

We were all together again at Jesse’s birthday party when Jesse blurted out, “Chris, you should take Anne to your prom!”

This seemed like a totally bizarre outburst on Jesse’s part, but Chris answered as though he had been already thinking about it.

“Yeah, do you wanna go?”

“I guess so,” I replied. I never thought it would happen. He was a senior, I was a junior. We went to different schools. We didn’t know each other that well. The prom was three months away. He would most certainly have a girlfriend by then.

Chris started calling my house a few nights a week. Then he asked me to accompany him to pick out a tux. It was on that little date that he asked if I was his girlfriend.

I sat in stunned silence for what seemed like five full minutes. I thought that in order to be his girlfriend, he had to ask me to be his girlfriend. Perhaps I had missed something very important during our interactions the past few months.

“I don’t think I am,” I replied.

“Well, do you want to be?”

Again, silence. I hadn’t thought about it. I just didn’t know what to say.

“Could I think about it and let you know?”

We got together the following weekend to discuss our relationship. I told him that I wasn’t ready to be in a serious relationship, and when I did get into one, I wanted to be sure that it was what God wanted. Chris agreed and didn’t seem too discouraged.

Our friendship grew and deepened, and we did go to the prom together.

We spent my entire senior year just “being friends”, although everyone else knew that we were more that just friends. We would go on marathon dates that would consist of wandering around the city for 10 hours or more. We became youth leaders and had fun and wild times at church functions.

We would pray, teach, preach, and put on crazy skits. I played a party animal and heavy drinker in one skit, though in real life I had never had a drop of beer. Chris dressed up as a nerdy scientist for another drama. His entrance into the youth room was supposed to be especially dramatic as flash pots exploded behind him. Unfortunately the flash pots were poorly timed and went off right in Chris’ face. His eyes were sprayed with part of the explosion, and they were watering profusely for the entire skit. Chris didn’t miss a beat and continued to act his part perfectly.

Once, the youth group went white water rafting. It was great, except there was no white water. We were floating lazily down the river. This was ideal for Jesse and me, but Chris required more excitement. He proposed taking the bailing buckets that our raft was equipped with and using them to douse a nearby raft with water. Jesse and I insisted that such behavior would be rude and uncalled for and would ruin the peaceful boat trip we were enjoying. Chris proceeded to fill up the bucket and dump the entire load of water on my head. As I was dripping and gasping in utter disbelief of the horrendous treatment I had just endured, Chris leaned in to my soggy ear and whispered, “I love you!”

When time came for me to graduate, I had decided to spend a year doing missions with Youth With a Mission (YWAM) rather than go straight to college.

For the next year I was training in Texas and then went on outreaches to Belize, Central America and many places in the US. I would write Chris long, chatty letters almost everyday. Chris would write maybe once a month. There were no cell phones and no land lines in the girls’ dorm where I was staying. Chris and I would plan via letter weeks in advance to talk on the phone on a specific day and time. I would take my quarters and go to the pay phone in the cafeteria, praying that there was not a line.

Both of us had to answer the question our hearts kept asking, “Is this the person I will marry?”

In my training classes, there was a teaching about laying everything important in our lives on the altar before God. Being a Christian didn’t just mean believing in God. It also meant giving Him everything! I spent a good prayer time with God giving Him my dreams, ambitions, and Chris. I wasn’t sure that God would give him back.

I knew that I loved Chris. I loved his sense of humor, his incredible work ethic, and his high morals. I loved that he always respected his mom. I loved that he loved God. I loved his dark brown eyes and his single dimple that would show itself when he smiled. I truly felt that he was the most handsome man I had ever met. But perhaps he wasn’t THE ONE. Maybe God’s perfect plan for my life didn’t include marrying Chris. I was willing to do anything He told me to do.

I was talking a walk around the lake in the beautiful countryside of the rural mission base when I felt God speak to me so clearly.

“Do you think I blessed your relationship with Chris just to take it from you now?”

From that moment on, I never doubted that he would be my husband. It took Chris a little longer. He was talking classes at a community college, renting a room from a gentleman at church, working as a waiter, taking impromptu road trips with his crazy guy friends, driving fast in his sporty CRX, using his limited spending money on CDs instead of food, sporting a new bleached blond hairdo, and turning down offers from interested pretty young women. I was a bit worried about him.

He decided to fly out to Texas to visit me in May, even though he was basically a starving student. He must have gotten his answer during that trip. As soon as he returned home, he drove straight from the airport to the jewelry store to pick out an engagement ring. I had no clue. In my slow-moving fashion, I thought marriage would be years away, perhaps after college. I did have a small scholarship to Eastern College that I was planning on using to study Elementary Education. Yet I thought God might have other plans.

When my training school with YWAM was coming to an end, all the students were encouraged to ask God for our next step. I was determined to hear His voice. There were so many opportunities to be a missionary in any country in the world with YWAM. I really thought that God would tell me to take everything I owned in a backpack and go to some exotic place. His answer surprised me.

“Go Home.”

I was home only a month when I decided to plan a special picnic dinner for Chris’ birthday. I wanted it to be a special surprise. My best friend, Autumn, was over, and she helped me prepare four courses and pack them carefully into a picnic basket. When my mom heard of my plans, she offered the good china and a special table-cloth.

As I laid out the feast for Chris at our favorite date place (Negley Park), he seemed distracted and hardly ate anything. After the meal, we sat together on the swings that overlooked the Harrisburg skyline as the sun set and the lights made the city sparkle.

Chris got up and then went down on one knee.

“I had a long talk with your parents….”

He took out a tiny box and I knew what he was going to say! I gave him a huge hug and again, I was speechless! I was overjoyed to become his wife, yet I was so surprised, I could not respond.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

I nodded.

Eleven months later, we became Mr. and Mrs. Brandenburg! That was 18 years ago today. So many volumes I could fill with all the adventures we have had, all the mountain tops and all the valleys, all the joys and all the sorrows, all the faith and all the doubt…but mostly all the love! Perhaps that story is being written here on this blog, one precious chapter at a time. It is my favorite story!

Happy Heavenly Birthday Dad!

July 31, 2014July 31, 2021 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 4 Comments

My Father, George Redman Beyer, passed away last year on July 31. In honor of him, I would like to post here the words I spoke at his memorial service.

All you who knew George, whether it was for 5 minutes or fifty years, knew that he was very kind, calm, patient, slow, methodical, and very intelligent.

He loved history and could remember facts and figures with an almost photographic memory. Most of those official blue and yellow signs you see around the state of PA were written by my Dad. When I was little I couldn’t remember the name of the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission, so I just told people that my Dad was a Historical Marker Maker. They gave me funny looks.

I got even stranger reactions when I told them that we were Quakers and went to Meeting instead of Church. Dad was always a man of peace. I almost never heard him criticize other people and I almost never saw him get angry.

In recent years, he had to bear with my five wild boys running around the house with nerf guns, squirt guns, and cap guns. Still he was very patient with them. He spent hour after hour after hour reading to all the grandchildren, snuggling on the sofa.

He answered question after question, read book after book. He rejoiced at the birth of every new grandchild and enjoyed them immensely.

This was an intense week for our family. Dad was sent to the emergency room on Monday with blood clots in his lungs. He stopped breathing and received CPR three times. When I saw him that evening, he was unconscious and the hospital was still trying to stabilize him. That night I prayed those deep, desperate prayers. I love it how God draws so near to me in times like these. I felt like He said to me, “This will end in death, but it is OK.” Then I saw a picture in my mind. I saw my dad as a young boy, running in the summer twilight.

He had perfect shalom, “perfect peace, nothing broken, and nothing missing.” He was running into the arms of God the Father. They both had such joy and excitement about being together.

On Tuesday the hospital thought they might be able to stabilize Dad and wake him up. Then we received a call that he had taken a turn for the worse, and we better get in there as soon as we could. Again I began praying in the car, and I was desperate with God. I said, “You can’t let him die if he’s not ready, if it is not his time. I haven’t done enough. I haven’t told him enough about you. I haven’t shown him enough love.” Again the sweet presence of God surrounded me and said, “It is already done. I have already done it all. All that is left is to trust me.”

So as we sat in Dad’s room watching him peacefully pass away, I again thought of him running into the arms of his Father. I heard the Father God say to him, “George, it doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do in your lifetime. I want you! You are my reward; You are my pearl of great price.”

Mom told me that Dad had recently attended a conference at Life Center and loved the song, “Abba” which means Daddy. (Click here to listen to the wonderful song.) We sang that song in Worship tonight. This confirmed to me that he had a longing in his heart to know God as his Daddy, and now his heart’s desire is fulfilled. He feels for the first time the full strength of the unconditional, all consuming love of the Father. Dad had loving parents and a loving family. Loving relationships are the joy of this life. But they are just the first morning rays of sunlight peaking over the horizon. Now he is standing in the brightness of noonday, and I am so happy for him!

I love how God gives us signs to explain what is happening in the unseen realm. He gave me a sign. My mom had transplanted a lot of flowers from her yard to into my yard. The irises and hyacinths have been blooming for many years now, but I have never seen the resurrection lily. I just thought it had died, and I had forgotten about it. But the day after my Dad died, I looked out my window and I saw it blooming!

I love you Dad!

Blue, White and Yellow = The Goodness of God

July 25, 2014July 25, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

It all started in my parents’ basement; the part of the basement that was used for storage of boxes of old stuff, stacks of newspapers, flowerpots with dirt still in them, tomato stakes, and odds and ends.

I found this lovely example of blue and white china down there, and I claimed them as my own. I placed them in my room among my eclectic collection of all things I considered pretty as a young girl. It was one of the only decorations I took with me when I got married and moved into my first apartment. It took an honored place on my grandfather Beyer’s old bookshelf, one of the only actual pieces of furniture we owned in those early years.

Somehow that piece of china took hold in my mind as a representative of a happy home. I developed a picture of my dream home over the course the next few years. It was a big farm-house with a wrap around porch, a happy place for our happy family. The most important rooms of the house (the kitchen and dinning rooms) were painted a warm, sunny yellow and adorned with white trim and white shelves. And what graced those white shelves? Blue and white china!

We lived many years in rentals or in a home we thought we would soon sell. I lived with the Realtor beige and white, still seeing those yellow walls in my mind. In 2007 we purchased a nice home in Pennsylvania. It wasn’t a farm-house, but it was big with a porch in front. I didn’t have “THE dream home” or the yellow walls…or the white shelves, but I started to collect the china. My in-laws purchased my next few plates at an antique store for my birthday. I had nowhere to display them, so I carefully packed them away. I started picking up pieces here and there, at thrift stores or yard sales. A tea-cup with delicate blue flowers, a plate with a cozy cottage and a bridge, a pitcher with an unusual design of blue triangles. A dollar here, fifty cents there. Each one a treasure, each one unique, each one a representative of God’s goodness to me. He has the entire universe to run, yet I felt Him share my joy with each special find.

Some friends had a china cabinet in their basement that they didn’t use, and they offered it to us. I was overjoyed! I had a place to store my treasures where I could see them each day.

It was my birthday in February of 2010. That was the glorious year that IT happened! My husband bought me bright yellow paint! I could hardly believe my good fortune! Our weird sage/aqua walls in the kitchen and dinning room were going to be transformed to yellow! We still had many young children, so we had to prep and paint after they went to bed. We continued to paint until 3 o’clock in the morning. Chris was a trooper. I was high on excitement and hardly felt tired. I was getting my yellow walls!

It was quite a shock at first. It wondered if I had picked the correct yellow color. But the sun was shinning inside my home 24 hours a day, seven days a week! “Daffodil” yellow grew on me until I couldn’t keep from saying, “I just love this!” It is amazing how small things can make such a dramatic different. Slowly I acquired some white shelves and more blue and white china. Now I am surrounded by beauty everyday, and it has improved the quality of my life.

Some days I marvel at the fact that we are still dwelling here, in this beautiful home. We were close to foreclosure during the hard times. While we were living through those difficult months, we thought back to the miracle that this home was. We knew that God had given it to us, and we knew that He could take it away. Chris was walking on our porch one night, feeling the heartbreak of loss, when God spoke to him.

“This is YOUR home, and you will sell it when YOU want to.”

When Chris told me that, I was so touched by the loving heart of my Father. He owned everything, everywhere. He had bought our very lives with the blood of His son. He did the miracle to get us this house. Yet He said that it was ours, and that we could choose when we wanted to sell it!

God was true to His word and worked out the details so we could continue to own this house, our dream home! He has done many more miracles to enable us to put food on the table day after day, pay all our bills month after month, and go shopping for blue and white china year after year.

Each piece reminds me of His incredible concern for every small detail of my life. Here I am, living my dream! My husband doesn’t care a thing about blue and white china; but to me, it symbolizes the amazing, unending goodness of God.

This is My Mercy

July 21, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment

It was New Year’s Eve. Chris and I had just moved back to our hometown after living in Colorado for 8 years. We had the chance to celebrate the holiday with long time friends, friends we hadn’t celebrated with in ages. We were so excited about the opportunity to get out! We had left our five children with two babysitters, sisters who had agreed to spend the night with our little angels since we might be out very late. I was going to take the baby along, but at the last minute, I decided that he didn’t need to nurse anymore that night, and he could stay home and sleep with the others.

It was already very dark when our minivan drove up the onramp to the highway. Chris, in his typical impatient fashion, maneuvered quickly to the left of a slow merging vehicle. He swiftly crossed the right lane and went directly into the left lane, leaving the slower vehicle still chugging up the on ramp.

“You are not supposed to do that,” I thought to myself. “I know that I would never do that.” I am a more cautious driver.

In a split second, Chris was slamming on the brakes. A dark shape came into view right in front of us, and Chris screeched to a halt to avoid hitting it. I reached out my arm to brace myself. We came to a dead stop in the middle of the highway, a dark car parked in the left lane just inches in front of us. It had no lights on and had been totally hidden by the shadows of the bridge overhead.

BAM! SMASH! CRASH!

We were hit violently from behind and pushed forward into the abandoned car. We were sandwiched between two vehicles, our hearts beating fast and our minds trying to unravel what had just happened. We exited the vehicle, stunned to see that it was smashed up pretty good. A young teenager emerged from the car that had stuck us. She was visibly shaken. A man who had pulled off to the side of the road was yelling at us to get off the highway. Thank God for that man! I was so shocked over what had happened that I was standing still, surveying the wreckage, in the very blind spot that had swallowed an entire car. All of us could have been mowed down by a speeding tractor trailer.

We quickly ran to the shoulder and assessed the situation. Several cars now sat in the highway, smashed and inoperable. We were afraid to run back out to try and move them. We were afraid that other vehicles would pile into them and create a much bigger mess. Thankfully, the emergency vehicles arrived on the scene very quickly, and traffic was prevented from traveling that stretch of highway. It seemed that every police car, ambulance, and fire truck that was close by had come to the scene.

I stood staring into those red flashing lights cutting into the cold, dark night. I was trembling. This was supposed to be a holiday, a special night for celebrating with friends. Instead we were stranded on the side of the highway. Why had this happened? I was sure that if Chris hadn’t been in such a hurry, we could have avoided the abandoned vehicle. It must have been his fault, mustn’t it? Why had he done that? Why were we in the wrong place at the wrong time? Were we doing sometime wrong? Perhaps we should have never gone out driving on New Year’s Eve. Perhaps we had allowed some sin to muddy our thoughts, and we had strayed off the perfect path for our lives. All these thought were whirling around in my mind, thoughts that had become the byproduct of our years in Colorado.

We had been apart of an abusive church, a community of “Christians” who would look at any misfortune in your life and find a reason to blame you for it. Bad things weren’t supposed to happen to good people, were they? So if something bad happened to you, you must have done something to deserve it. You must have sowed bad seed and were now reaping the equally bad harvest.

“This is my mercy”

The still small voice broke into my thoughts.

“What? How can this be mercy?” I thought as I viewed our totaled van and a highway shut down because of us. Then my thoughts began to unwind and straighten out and become more like God’s thoughts. Accidents happen. That doesn’t make it our fault. No one was hurt. Every single person in every vehicle walked away with no injuries. The ambulances drove away empty. The fire trucks had no fires to put out. We were safe!

“Oh my goodness! I was going to bring the baby!”

I remembered that my sweet, little four-month old was sleeping peacefully at home. He had not been in the accident. He was safe! This was God’s mercy! He had not been punishing us for something. He had saved us and our infant son from something that could have been much, much worse. He was not waiting to bring retribution; He was guarding us and protecting us at all times!

It turns out that the van could not be repaired, and the insurance company paid us for it. We were able to take that payment and combine it with Chris’ pick-up truck and get a new van with no monthly payments. That was something we had been specifically praying for. We each also received $5,000 in free chiropractic care, something else we had been praying for. God used this destructive accident to bless us!

So the next time you are looking at a mangled mess that disrupts that flow and peace of your life, God could be saying…

This is my mercy!

The Power of Praising Through Pain

July 19, 2014July 21, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 6 Comments

I attended the memorial service for the mother of a dear friend of mine. This friend is my age, and we have known each other since junior high school. It was much too soon for her to have to say goodbye to her mom. I was deeply touched by everyone who shared memories and thoughts and prayers. I marveled at the joy and pain mingling together as we sang songs of worship. Our pastor stood up to share. He began to talk about how we each encounter situations in life that don’t make sense, that seem too difficult to be God’s best for us. We all ask God the question, “Why?” He listed the many famous men of the Bible who asked why. Then he made a statement that cut to the core of my being.

“There was one ‘why’ that swallowed up all the other ‘whys’,” he said, and I instantly knew what he was talking about.

Jesus, hanging on the cross, became sin and cried out from the anguish of his soul, “My God, WHY have you forsaken me?”

Jesus knows how we feel as we navigate through this journey called being human. We all suffer pain, heartbreak, sickness, and loss. We all have our faith shaken and our knowledge stripped and our understanding emptied until all we can say is, “Why?” Jesus was at the very same place Himself, and He put himself in that place on purpose so that we didn’t have to be there alone. He is always right there with us, whispering, “I understand…and someday you will too.”

And love’s voice answers from a cross:

“I bear it all with you;

I share with you in all your loss, I will make all things new.

None suffer in their sin alone,

I made – I bear – and I atone.” – Hannah Hurnard

God made us for Eden which means “delight” and “pleasure.” We were made to live in perfect shalom; peace, nothing broken, nothing missing. But our world was plunged into darkness and put under a curse because of sin. The effects of that gloom always seem so wrong and unfair and foreign to us. That is because they are. We were created for something better, something perfect.

“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.” – C.S. Lewis

While we are here in the Shadowlands, we have a unique and very short-lived opportunity that we will never have again once we have crossed over into glorious eternity. We have the privilege to have faith in something we can’t see. Faith in a good and amazing God. Faith that all things will be redeemed and restored. We have the chance to touch our Father’s heart as we praise Him through our pain.

Rick Joyner received a vision from God in which this was shown to him in a marvelous way.

“I saw the Father. Millions and millions were attending Him. His glory was so great and the power of His presence so awesome that I felt the whole earth would not have even measured as a grain of sand before Him…His robe was composed of millions and millions of stars which were alive…I knew I could dwell before Him forever and never cease to marvel; there was no higher purpose in the universe than to worship Him…

“Then I was in a different place, beholding a worship service in a little church building…Everyone in the battered little room…were experiencing severe trials in their lives, but they were not even thinking of them here. They were not praying about their needs. They were all trying to compose songs of thanksgiving to the Lord. They were happy and their joy was sincere.

“I saw heaven, and all of heaven was weeping. I then saw the Father again and knew why heaven was weeping. They were weeping because of the tears in the eyes of the Father. This little group of seemingly beaten down, struggling people had moved God so deeply that He wept. They were not tears of pain, but of joy…

“Jesus turned to me and said, “When you worship without seeing His glory, in the midst of your trials, this is worship in Spirit and truth…Do not waste your trials. Worship the Father – not for what you will get, but to bring Him joy. You will never be stronger than when you bring Him joy, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

One Sunday at church I was inspired by a testimony of a woman who had been miraculously healed of cancer. I love it when God’s power is so visibly demonstrated here on the imperfect earth among broken humanity. I clapped and cheered for this one soul who had received a death sentence and then had that terrible pronouncement revoked.

But I was deeply touched and moved and undone by something else. A man who had recently lost his wife to cancer was raising his hands to praise God for the healing of another. I felt my heart deepen and stretch to try to contain the grandeur of that one small act. I thought I heard heaven weeping because this man had so touched the Father’s heart with his praise. The greatest victories of the Christian life occur when we suffer crushing earthly loss and still praise God! The “Whys” get swallowed up by such praise and we get catch a glimpse of the world we were really created for.

I am my Daddy’s Favorite

July 17, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 4 Comments

Have you ever felt like you were trying hard to do everything right but at every turn your efforts were being thwarted? Instead of open doors to the people, jobs, opportunities, resources you were hoping for, all you encounter are brick walls. Funny thing about brick walls; they do not step aside and they show no compassion! For years Chris and I felt like that. We would try and try to break through into the prosperity that we knew God had for us. Chris would try to get the right job and then work hard. We would attempt to do all the right things and pray the right prayers. Yet one heart breaking setback after another would hold us back. We almost felt as though we were cursed rather than blessed. But we knew that God wanted to bless us…so what was the problem?

For years we were undoing the natural consequences of bad decisions we had made…really bad decisions. So the consequences provided for us an excellent education that we are so thankful for!

After that, we began to step into new territory; making good decisions based upon what would please God the most. Surely this would bring His favor. Yet the years continued to go by, and we were still living paycheck to paycheck. Discouragement would try to tell us that God didn’t like us very much, that He didn’t pay attention to our prayers or our needs. But truth keep telling us that just the opposite was true. He loved us like a Father. In fact, we were our Daddy’s favorites. His plans for us were to give us a future and a hope.

Whenever you enter new territory, such as when the Israelites entered their promised land, there are always battles. The current residents will not willingly give up their territory. Yet eventually, they must, because God said so. Just because we have to battle for something, just because it is not easy, does not mean it is not God’s will!

I was reading the book of Esther and marveling at the divine reversal that occurred. In one glorious day, the tables were turned. The Jews went from teetering on the precipice of annihilation to triumphing over all their enemies. They went from being hated and despised to being honored and feared. Esther and her uncle gained great influence over the king and they had won his favor. Everything started to work for their benefit and promotion, and best of all, they would not be slaughtered! How I longed to experience what a divine reversal felt like; to go from having everything go wrong to having everything go right. To feel God’s special affection for me wherever I went.

So I prayed that God would make that principle a reality in my life; that I could walk in the favor that Esther had. I opened up my devotional that morning and read, “The Lord will bless you and watch over you. The Lord will smile on you and be kind to you. The Lord will look on you with favor and give your peace!” Numbers 6:24-25. It was as though God was saying to me, “I heard you and my answer to your prayer is yes!”

Lance Wallnau defines favor as “the special affection of God toward you that releases an influence on you so others are inclined to like you or to cooperate with you” and “the charisma of Christ that makes you appealing.” What does he say we should do to obtain this favor? Love God, seek His face, become like him, and ask him for His favor. Decree His favor over every area of our lives and believe that He hears us. We also need to be able to look at ourselves in the mirror and love ourselves. After all, how can we accept God’s amazing affection if we don’t agree with it? Basically, that would be telling God that he was wrong about us, and we really don’t want His favor after all.

Last Sunday at church, God gave me a perfect illustration of what his favor looks like. My littlest son is now 16 months old. He was supposed to have moved out of the nursery awhile ago, but it is just easier to place him in the care of familiar faces in familiar surroundings. Well, last Sunday, I decided to try him in the older room. I entered to find only one teacher present; a sweet, young girl with a pregnant belly. She already had four children in the room, one of whom was crying quite loudly in a rocking chair. I was hesitant to put my little Courage in that room and add a fifth child. I wouldn’t want to take care of 5 non-verbal toddlers by myself if I were pregnant. I stayed with him in the room for a while, wondering what I should do. I finally decided to leave and enter the adult service. Just as I was walking out the door, the woman from the younger nursery came in.

“There’s Courage! We were wondering where he was! He is our favorite, you know. I think I need to steal him back!”

“OH! How many babies do you have in your room?” I asked.

“None have come yet, and there are two of us in there, just waiting to make Courage happy.”

“Oh yes, please do! I didn’t realize that your class was empty!”

So the sweet woman whisked Courage away. He was specifically chosen and sought out to receive the exclusive attentions of two adoring teachers simply because he was their FAVORITE! THAT is what FAVOR looks like!

I have been praying for God’s favor on my life. Favor for the traffic on the highway to be sparse and fast moving whenever I need to travel. Favor for my line in the grocery store to be the fastest. Favor for our business, that it would catch the positive attention of every person and business in our town that needs a sign. Favor for my children that they would get the best care from every teacher, babysitter, nurse, and doctor we ever meet. Favor in the eyes of every person I come in contact with. This may seem rather selfish. After all, why should I get special treatment? Because I am His favorite, that’s why! God loves every person, no matter how twisted, grumpy, evil, or unlovable they are. He wills the best and the highest for each one of them, but that doesn’t mean He likes them. Favor is when God really, really likes you! The reason God really, really likes you is because you are like His beloved son here in the earth; loving God and loving people, doing everything with the highest best of God in mind. So when people cooperate with me because I have the favor of God, they are actually cooperating with God. And when they are cooperating with God, they are actually cooperating with a force that intends to bring about the very best for them. So they are doing themselves a favor when they extend favor to me!

My faith in His favor is increasing as I see Him work out surprising and incredible circumstances on my behalf…after all, I am my Daddy’s favorite.

Oh, the Love of a Sibling!

July 12, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 6 Comments

It is such a gift to have siblings…lots of them! My firstborn was a girl, Areli. When she was 18 months, our second child, Cole, arrived. Areli took to him right away. She couldn’t say, “baby” but she could say “boo-boo.” Boo-Boo became his name for the next two years. Areli and Cole cannot remember life without each other or “our chuthers” as they used to say. They were always best friends, like peas and carrots. They still are.

Two years after Cole, Cadin came along. They were a happy trio, getting into trouble and playing pretend. Cadin was always his own person, however, having different tastes than his older brother.

Ashlyn was born 18 months later. Her development was very delayed because of a chromosomal abnormality. She didn’t crawl for a long time and didn’t sit up until she was almost two years old. She didn’t begin to stand and walk until she was nine. Her world until that time was on the floor. God provided three little boys to take turns sharing the floor with her. Chai was born when she was 18 months, Cooper two years later, and Calvin two years after that. Oh the fun fellowship they shared, exploring every inch of the space underneath things and “cleaning up” any crumbs that fell there.

Cooper and Calvin have a special bond because they share a room and a bunk bed. They are now 7 and 5, and they are hyper, little balls of energy. We call them C&C Music Factory. If I want a peaceful outing to the store, I must only take one of them along.

My children love each other! They never lack a friend to play with. It is true that sometimes they express hatred rather than love, hurting the other just for the sheer enjoyment of it and denying that they are related at all. But I know that when the immaturity of this season passes, they will be deep and earnest friends for the whole of their lives.

Each new baby was welcomed with such excitement and enthusiasm that we had to protect the vulnerable little thing from being loved on too much. It was so sweet to see a normally wild boy get quiet and still when it was his turn to hold the baby.

Areli was always a natural mother. She got to be present at the birth of four of her little brothers. She was enchanted with it all. Childbirth can be intense at times, but witnessing it only seemed to increase her love for babies and her desire to be a mom someday. When Calvin outgrew the newborn, eat every few hours at night stage, he slept in a crib in Areli’s room. She was so happy to have him there. She would change him and clothe him and snuggle with him. She would even comfort him if he cried during the night and she wouldn’t tell me about it until the morning. A sister like that is worth more that her weight in gold!

Calvin turned two, and no new baby arrived. Cooper, age 4 at this time, began talking to me about the fact that we really needed a baby. I told him to pray about it. He did! After a few more months had pasted, Cooper came to me exasperated.

“I prayed for a baby, but I don’t think God heard me! We don’t have a baby yet!”

I encouraged him to keep praying and that God knows the perfect time for everything. More prayer seemed to increase Cooper’s vision. Soon he was reporting to me that God had 10 babies for us, 5 boys and 5 girls! They were up in heaven, just waiting for God to send them down.

This seemed rather far fetched, so Daddy told him, “Perhaps you are talking about the children that you will have someday when you get married!” Cooper didn’t seem so sure.

Not long after that, Chris and I announced to the children that I indeed had another baby in my belly. Cheers erupted! They all wanted another baby to hold and snuggle and change and dress. They were all so excited, none more than Cooper.

“I hope it’s a boy!” he announced.

Since we already had 5 boys, the rest of us thought a girl would be nice. An ultrasound revealed that the baby was indeed….another boy! Cooper was overjoyed!

“Now we only need four more boys, and 5 more girls!”

I have always encouraged my children to pray to God and listen to His voice. Cooper had always been great at this, possessing that child-like faith in great measure. I didn’t want to tell him that he was not hearing God’s voice, because how did I know? In my own walk with God, His words were usually somewhat surprising to me when they came, interrupting my own thought with an altogether different message. I have found that His thoughts are truly not like our thoughts; that His ways are not like our ways. He is constantly trying to get us out of that box (or cage), encouraging us to jump off of that cliff, and teaching us to fly with Him above the logical and obvious.

So Cooper’s ambitious vision for brothers and sisters does seem like impossibility, considering my diminishing fertile years. We had seriously looked into adoption a few years back, but right now, that seems impossible as well. How do I feel about the fact that Cooper thinks I should give birth 9 more times, or have triplets 3 times, or have two more babies and adopt seven, or any number of other scenarios?

I know that God knows what He is doing and His ways are mysterious beyond my comprehension but far better than what I could ever imagine!

So I just say, “Keep praying Cooper…keep praying! You never know what God might do…for the love of a sibling!”

God Needs Me?

July 5, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

“He can do all things without us, but He had chosen to do them through us.” – The Call by Rick Joyner

I was pregnant with baby number eight. It had been three years since my last pregnancy, and I felt the strongest, the healthiest, the most alive I had ever felt! That was…until the morning sickness settled in. It was actually “all day but much worse in the evening sickness”. I had not felt horribly nauseous during my previous pregnancies, more like continuous car sickness. How I had wished I could stop the invisible car and just get out! I was optimistic that this pregnancy would be the exception, that I could say with a smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye, “I love being pregnant!”

Just the opposite had happened. I had never felt so bad! My days consisted of sitting on the sofa with my eyes closed, trying to feel better. My children ran around unattended. Home school, which we should have started a month ago, remained untouched. My older children did all the chores around the house and kept it running, though not as orderly or smoothly as I would have. My precious firstborn girl, Areli, carried an enormous burden. She heard my pitiful pleas all day long.

“Areli, could you make me some eggs?”

“Areli, could you fill up my water glass?”

“Areli, could you see who is crying upstairs, please?”

I tried to be a good mom; but mostly I whined, moaned, slept, felt sick, got sick, and slept some more. I felt useless and wretched. I knew theoretically that despite the weakened state of my body, my spirit could still soar high above my circumstances, like an eagle above the clouds. Yet, after days, weeks, and months of feeling crummy, my eagle had forgotten how to fly. My mind kept thinking about scriptures such as

“For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever!” 2 Cor 4:17

I knew that it was true, but it didn’t help me feel any better.

I thought about my joy in a newborn baby and how it was all worth it.

But it didn’t make me feel any better.

I reread every “Above Rubies” magazines I had ever received to encourage myself.

My mind was encouraged but my flesh still felt miserable!

My body felt like it was not capable to getting up off the sofa and doing anything productive or enjoyable, yet my mind continued to churn, swirling in descending circles.

“I just want to die. I can’t live like this. Why do I have to suffer? Why does God allow me to feel so horrible?”

Pregnancy is such a miracle, a blessing, a gift! So why did I feel so bad? My suffering was nothing compared to other women I knew, who kept almost nothing down for nine months, yet my suffering felt like too much for me to bear.

The question I kept asking was, “Is this worth it?” and I knew that it was. A new life is always worth it. After a mother is holding that precious bundle, her sorrow is turned into joy.

Then the question became, “How much is a human life worth? How much pain and sorrow is one life worth? How much would I suffer for one human life? Would I get pregnant and do this all again for one more human life? How much is a life worth to God? How much suffering did Jesus endure?”

The only conclusion I could come to was this; one human life is worth IT ALL! There is no limit to the value God puts on a life, no price too high to pay, no suffering too severe. Jesus suffered more than any of us. He went through betrayal, slander, hatred, lies, scourging, mocking, and the cruelest execution ever conceived. He felt the wretched, incurable sickness of the evil of the entire world. And he bore the effects of that twisted iniquity; separation with all that is good and beautiful and holy, his Father.

He said that his suffering was worth it because of the joy set before him. (Hebrews 12:2) That joy was human life, redeemed and set free. He said that I am worth it. He said that you are worth it. He said that the child in my womb was worth it. If Jesus was willing to suffer for my child, shouldn’t I? After the suffering of His soul, he saw the light of life (my life, your life, my child’s life) and he was satisfied. (Isaiah 53:11)

I knew that my suffering wasn’t in vain, but I still didn’t feel any better.

“God, give me a vision of this child! Something to keep me going,” I prayed.

In my mind’s eye I saw beams of life coming from this child and shooting out to the far reaches of the earth. This child would be a blessing to me and my family, yes. But he would also have an impact on the entire world! How? I have no idea! But if I could have some small part in sending life to the whole of mankind, sign me up!

Then I heard God’s loving voice.

“Thank you for being available. Without you, I couldn’t bring this child of destiny into the world.”

Then I felt the peace that only God’s voice can bring. I felt His gratitude sink deep into my soul until I was saturated by the unbelievable goodness of it. God needs me? The all powerful God NEEDS ME to be available? What if I had said that seven children were quite enough, and that there were too many children in the world already? THIS particular child, with unique DNA from his father and from me that could never be duplicated, would have never existed! His very individual purpose and destiny would have never been manifested. His precious personality, which was a dream in God’s heart since before the world began (Ephesians 1:4), would have never been realized. And now he exists…because of me! I cannot think of anything more powerful. I cannot think of any higher honor for God to give me, than helping Him to create something of inestimable value and eternal impact.

I never could say during that pregnancy that I enjoyed being pregnant. But I could say that pregnancy was when I relied on God the most and sensed His presence the closest and felt His glory the heaviest. And the moment that precious Babe was born…I could say…

HE WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT!

My Adventurous Husband with the Crazy, Impossible Dreams Might Just Be Right

July 3, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

My husband, Chris, is very different from me. In fact, he is quite the opposite. He is spontaneous and impatient, prone to making rash and risky decisions. He is also very driven. When he has a certain goal in mind, all else fades to the background as he plows through valleys and climbs over mountains to reach that goal. When he gets an idea in his head, it seems like an obsession to me. I am a steady and reliable creature of habit. I like to dwell, remain, and stay in my comfort zone. I feel no need to go trailblazing into unknown and possibly scary territory. To change my course is like trying to alter the flow of a river. I have found that trying to deter Chris from a goal is like trying to stop a freight train once it is barreling down the tracks. It is much easier to jump aboard and enjoy the ride!

We faced our first major financial decision as newlyweds. Our apartment had washer and dryer hookups, but we had no washer and dryer. We would spend hours at the Laundromat. Chris reasoned that if we could put our Laundromat money towards payments on our own washer and dryer, we would be much better off. I agreed, but when I saw the large price tag, I was terrified. We ended up in our car in the Sears parking discussing the pros and cons. The worry of making a bad decision brought me to tears. We ended up buying the brand-new, super-capacity Kenmore beauties, despite my abiding nervousness. Eighteen years, 6 moves, and eight children later, they are still washing 2-3 loads a day! Chris was totally right!

In 2006 we were renting a nice house on Market St where I found my Little Piece of Heaven. Sure, I wanted to move eventually, but I figured that God would bring that opportunity right to us at the proper time. But Chris was obsessed. He was unsatisfied with our living conditions and upset that our rent money was going into someone else’s pocket instead of building up equity for us. He talked to realtors. He got lists of homes sent to him every week on the internet. He kept finding houses that he wanted me to look at. The available four bedroom homes priced around $100,000 were not at all what I would call attractive or comfortable! I didn’t want to look at these homes, not to mention consider living in them. But I did it, because Chris asked me to. We even put offers on two of them. They had been on the market for a long time. We thought we could get a good deal, fix them up and then sell them for more…all in an effort to get closer to our real dream house. Both houses were snatched up right before our offers came in.

Chris didn’t give up, however. He talked to other realtors, looked at other houses, and kept viewing homes on the internet. None of the homes interested me at all. Basically, I had given up on owning a home. One day Chris came across a picture of an older home, shrouded in dark awnings and overgrown shrubbery. He set up a time to see it. He walked in the front door, took one look at the high ceilings and beautiful woodwork and thought, “This is it!”

There was just one mountain of a problem. It was more than twice what we could afford. He set up a second time to view the house and wanted me to come along. I so desperately wanted to refuse him, and I almost did. I didn’t want to go see another ugly house. I definitely didn’t want to go see a beautiful house, fall in love with it, and then have to face the reality that we could never afford it. But I did it, because Chris asked me to.

The house was built in 1924 and was in a beautiful neighborhood with tree lined streets. I toured the gorgeous home, loving every detail of it! I tried NOT to love it…but I couldn’t help it. I took a paper containing the specs of the home that included a tiny black and white picture of the exterior. In my mind, that dreary picture was a picture of my dream home. I placed the paper on top of my filing cabinet. Every time I passed by and caught a glimpse of that paper, I would pray that God would do a miracle and give us that house! Every time we passed the exit on the highway that would take us to the house, longing would fill my heart that someday that exit would lead to my home! Every night before bed, the children would pray and ask God to give them that house! Chris’ obsession had become a family obsession!

The realtor went to the owners with a crazy idea. Even though the house had only been on the market for two weeks, he urged them to consider a sellers agreement, where we would make payments to them directly and take over the mortgage in a few years. It seemed like an eternity before they responded…THAT THEY WOULD! Amazing miracle number one! Yet our soaring spirits sank a bit as we heard the terms. The monthly payment was way too much, and we had to come up with $10,000 upfront. Chris countered with $300 less per month. They accepted! Amazing miracle number two!

Time came to sign the paperwork, and we still had no money to put down. Chris continued to plow ahead, scaling that mountain and signing away! I was terrified and thought back to the washer and dryer purchase so long ago. How small that decision seemed compared to this one was! I sat with the realtor, the paperwork, and a kitchen timer in front of me. I was timing contractions that had been coming every twenty minutes for baby number six. I was about to have a baby, and here I was, facing one of the biggest decisions of my life! I wanted to call it all off, or have a conference like we did in our car in the Sears parking lot. I wanted to cry my heart out and beg Chris to back out of the whole thing!

Quietly a peace descended upon me, and my emotions stilled. My contractions stopped. I saw the hand of God moving heaven and earth. I saw that it was He who had put that obsession into my husband’s heart. I signed the paperwork and believed that God would work out the rest. Amazing miracle number three!

I didn’t have any more contractions for almost a week. My grandmother joyfully offered to give us the money we needed and a bit more! Amazing miracle number four! Chris’ mom flew in from Colorado in anticipation of the new baby’s arrival. That night my water broke, but there were no contractions. In the morning, we thought we would pass the hours by showing my mother-in-law our new home! It was a hot and humid day in August. I walked around my home, and I began to get contractions. They increased as I showed off my four large bedrooms and gigantic bathroom on the second floor. They increased even more as I went down to view my spacious and clean basement with shelves and shelves of storage space. Finally, we all gathered outside to return to our rental house. I leaned on the truck with one intense contraction. It was hard to escape the pain with heat emanating from the sun above and rising from the blacktop below. I thought, “What have I done, coming here while in labor? I need to get home!”

We arrived home in plenty of time to fill the baby pool in our bedroom and call the midwife. Our little Cooper was born a few hours later, healthy and happy! Some weeks after that, we began to move into our new home.

We are still in this home, paying the mortgage (our mortgage!) eight years later. That is the real miracle! We have weathered job losses, economic downturns, and debt reduction programs. We were close to foreclosure during the hard times, yet we are still here!

Three years ago Chris became obsessed with another goal, to become a business owner. He talked to a business broker and received emails about local businesses for sale. He read books about entrepreneurs and conversed with friends who were business owners.

“Oh brother,” I thought. “Here we go again!”

He inquired about a Signarama shop just blocks from our house. He went to visit with the owner and saw the shop. He was convinced that this was it. He wanted me to see it all and tell him what I thought. I really didn’t want to! But I did, because he asked me to.

When I saw the shop I thought, “This is definitely NOT it!” A sign shop, full of vinyl to make signs? How boring! I never had any interest in being a business owner, nor ever thought about making signs. Chris began the slow process of turning my course.

We talked with the regional VP of Signarama to learn more about the franchise. What emotions surfaced when I thought about this proposition; spending all we had plus going into debt to acquire a business? Terror! Pure fear! Fear of not having enough to pay our bills. Fear of heading towards foreclosure again! Fear of making a big whopper mess-up of a decision! Quietly peace descended upon me, and I heard the voice of God.

“Do not fear making mistakes. Mistakes aren’t as powerful as you think they are. You see them as huge giants that can rob you of your destiny. That is not true. Your mistakes cannot negate my promises or my power or my faithfulness in your life. I can cause all your mistakes to prosper and use them for good. In fact, your mistakes are your servants. Use them to learn about me, yourself, and your destiny. Use them to draw near to me. Do not fear making mistakes. Make all decisions in confidence and faith. I AM able to lead you and keep you in my perfect will. I AM faithful!”

So we took the plunge into business ownership. It has been harder than we had ever imagined. Some of my fears have come to pass, but I realized that they weren’t so bad after all. God is in control, and He is bringing us through this into the abundant prosperity that He has promised! Chris is learning to slow down his freight train to prayerfully consider my wisdom. I am learning that my adventurous husband with his crazy obsessions might just be tapping into the very heart of God!

“The moment you are in is pregnant with possibility. DON’T kill it with fear.” – Bill Johnson

I won’t kill it with fear! I will move forward with faith and confidence!

I WILL ENJOY THE RIDE!

Are You in Over Your Head?

June 28, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 11 Comments

Are you overwhelmed? Does your life feel impossible? Do you feel completely inadequate and incompetent for the task before you? Good! You may be in just the right place…to see God do the impossible!

I am very familiar with the feeling that my life is out of control, being a mother of many children! I don’t often get to attend special conferences at my church, but I love to listen to the CDs of them at home. I was listening to a CD of Lesley-Anne Leighton talk about her amazing adventures as a missionary. God would regularly do miracles for her as she stepped out in faith. For example, she was taken into custody by Chinese authorities (China is very hostile to the Gospel of Jesus). She was miraculously released after she started speaking to the men in Chinese…and she didn’t know how to speak Chinese! She would do training schools all around the world to teach people to live a supernatural life like hers. As I listened to her teaching on this CD, she said she would share with us her strategy for living such a life. That caught my attention and I listened carefully; so much so that I remember what she said 9 years later. Her strategy was simple; she would follow Jesus wherever he led! This meant that she would get in over her head and watch God do the miracles on her behalf.

A new thought began to dawn in my mind. This was a great strategy for a missionary, traveling to hostile and dangerous parts of the world. But I knew that motherhood was a dangerous and perilous journey as well. Mothers needed miracles just as much as missionaries did! I knew that I needed some! And Lesley-Anne had just told me that it was actually a good thing that I was in over my head…because that is the place where God moves! My courage began to rise.

I had felt in over my head since my second baby showed up and didn’t get the memo from his big sister on how to sleep. He would cry louder than I had ever heard anyone cry, and deprive me of my sleep and almost my sanity! He continued these nighttime disturbances even after I became pregnant with number three.

I had felt overwhelmed since I had three little children and a special needs baby who required many doctors’ appointments and special care. I had no one close by to help and my husband, Chris often traveled for work, being gone for days or weeks at a time.

I had felt overwhelmed when I had three little children, a special needs two-year old and a five-week old baby boy AND Chris and I had to pack up our home, drive cross-country (praying the whole way that I wouldn’t fall asleep at the wheel and kill us all!), and set up a new home in Pennsylvania.

I had felt overwhelmed since I had seven children, home schooled, and enrolled my special needs daughter in a therapy program that I was supposed to accomplish by myself, at home. The man in charge told me that Ashlyn’s therapy program would be fairly easy, only requiring 6 hours a day. I thought to myself, “How can I ever do that?” Yet I wanted to try, because I wanted her to be better so badly. I also felt that God had led me to this program for Ashlyn AND had led me to home school all the other children.

I would wake up at 5 am each morning, immediately feeling nervous about the coming day. My mind would instantly begin to churn with all I had to accomplish and the fact that it was nearly impossible to do so. Life felt like a test, and I would pass the test only if I could accomplish everything I my to-do list. But almost every night I would go to bed with tasks left undone and the feeling of failure. There were a few rare days that I finished everything and thought briefly that I had succeeded…only to look back over my day and realize that I had plowed over everything and everyone who stood in my way. My victory was meaningless, because I did it without love, and my children suffered.

Thinking on these past failures, I would go from being nervous to panicking!!! Lying in bed in the morning, trying to work up the courage to face my impossible day, I would pray.

“Oh, God! I want to love my children today! I want to do therapy with Ashlyn so she can be well! I want to do home school with my children so they will be smart! But I have so many other things I need to do! I should have been up hours ago! There is no way I can do this. This is IMPOSSIBLE! I am in WAY OVER MY HEAD!”

Then one day I was quiet enough to hear the Spirit’s still small voice.

“This day is not a test, it is a gift! I want you to open your eyes and see all the treasures I have hidden for you in this day. Let me bless you in the midst of your business. You are right, my child. Your life is impossible. I designed it that way. I never intended for you to live a safe, easy, comfortable life. I didn’t design you to merely do the possible. I am the God of the impossible, remember! I designed you to do the impossible through me! I can’t fully show my glory unless the situation is Impossible. All that I do through your life is changing eternity. So be at rest. Be at peace. I AM in control.”

That voice changes everything for me! It immediately tears the veil between my crazy, earthy life and the Holy of Holies. I can step out of the temporary and step into the eternal. I can step out of my failures and step into the finished work of Christ. My life takes on a while new significance when I realize that the Most Holy God wants to dwell with me and do miracles through me! And what could be more miraculous than living with so many children and having perfect peace!

Now we have eight children and a ninth baby that takes a lot of time and resources – a new business! I have so many things to do at home, and Chris has so many things to do at our sign shop. I try to help him at the shop and he tries to help me at home, all the while being mindful of our precious children. We are busy almost all of the time. What little “free” time we have is not really free. We are so selective about how we spend our time, trying fiercely to follow Jesus and no one else. There isn’t time and energy and devotion to waste on anything less! It is going to take a miracle to raise our children the way we should AND make our business successful. Both Chris and I are sure that we are in WAY OVER OUR HEADS! Yet we know that Jesus led us here and through him we are doing miracles.

I am so encouraged by Mark Batterson and what he wrote in The Circle Maker.“If you’ve never been overwhelmed by the impossibility of your plans, then your God is too small.”

So are you in over your head? If you got into this situation by following someone other than Jesus, start following him now and just see what he will do! If it was Jesus who got you into the crazy mess called your life, let your heart take courage! This is his specialty, doing miracles through little you! So relax, let go, and enjoy riding on his waves of grace…and expect signs and wonders to follow you.