I Want My Life to Mean Something

July 9, 2016July 9, 2016 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

I just had to go to the bathroom! However, on my way there I needed to yell out the window at a boy chasing a ball into the street.

“Calvin, I told you that you are not allowed in the street. You have to play inside now!”

Then I had to stop to referee a fight between two other children.

“If this is Courage’s toy, you have to ask him before you take it! And Courage, do not scream and cry. Just say, ‘This is my toy. Give it back to me please.’ You don’t get anything you want when you scream and cry.”

I feel like I have given this little lesson about five hundred and sixty-four times. Why don’t they remember! I still need to use the restroom (it is getting quite urgent!) yet I cannot stop myself from picking the kitchen towel off the floor which I had already done twice that morning.

“We dry our dishes with this towel, people!” I think to myself. I notice peanut butter on the otherwise white cabinet door. I encounter shoes and the grungiest socks known to man thrown about the living room floor.

“Cooper! Put these in the laundry room!” I call out in desperation, knowing that I will probably have to hunt him down and ask him again later.

I pass Ashlyn’s walking track. She is supposed to be doing her walking exercises right now; building her muscles, organizing her brain, and increasing her balance. She is laying on the sofa, nursing some sores on her feet. I wonder to myself if all the therapy that I have done with her was in vain. She can’t wear her braces if the skin on her feet break down. And she can’t walk if she doesn’t wear her braces.

I get into the bathroom and shut and lock the door. A moment of peace. A quiet space. Ahhhhhh…I can sit down for a moment. WHAT IS THIS!!!!! PEE ON THE TOILET AGAIN!! I just wiped this toilet one hour ago, and the hour before that!

In the relative quiet of my stinky, dirty bathroom I am close to tears.

“Is this my life? Working hard to clean a house that never stays that way? Toiling to teach my children lessons that they never seem to learn. Worried about not doing enough therapy with Ashlyn while simultaneously worrying about doing TOO MUCH therapy with Ashlyn. I want my life to mean something,” I pray to God. “How can I know if my life is making a difference when I see so little good fruit?”

I just love it when I have a really productive day; wrote a blog article, organized an entire room, cleaned out the attic, or created a delicious meal with an abundance of bright colors and fresh ingredients. But what happens when day after day goes by with no real progress of any kind. Moms deal with this phenomena all the time. We pour ourselves out, go to bed late, get up early, work hard; and when we stop to look around…it appears as though we have gotten absolutely nothing accomplished whatsoever!

I have been feeling the frustration and discontent that thousands of women have experienced. We feel unnoticed, unimportant, and meaningless. This has pushed many women to abandon their high calling as a wife and mother to pour themselves into other pursuits…just to feel worthy and fulfilled.

I KNOW that I have the most important career in the world. I KNOW that my life is making a difference in this life and in the next.

It just doesn’t FEEL that way most of the time.

“God, help me to see things the way you do. I need some encouragement here!” I have prayed.

God is answering as He always does. It may take a lifetime to understand all that He is saying and to unravel my own thoughts and ideas. But I think I am making some progress.

I have been listening to the Bible on CD. Listening to a cast of characters reading the Bible as though it were actually happening has helped me to see the stories in a different light. It seems more real and more relevant. Plus it is a different version than what I have read before, and it brings a new dimension to many verses.

As I look at the Bible as a whole; the story of God’s relationship with mankind, there is a common thread that I hadn’t noticed before. God always had a plan. He was always confident that this plan would work. Very few humans actually understood His plan or knowingly helped God work out His plan. The major events in the Bible were orchestrated and accomplished by God, not man. Many times God worked through people and with people but most of the time He moved DESPITE people.

All the amazing events in Acts happened because of God. The disciples didn’t get together after the resurrection and have an intensive strategic planning meeting to figure out how they would acquire the Holy Spirit or how they would add 3,000 people to their number in one day. They didn’t go to college to learn the cutting edge strategies for converting the Jews and then the Gentiles to the Way. (They didn’t even know that the Gentiles COULD be saved until God showed them.)

All the disciples did was wait on God and obey whatever He told them to do. Many times they saw miracles, but more often they encountered opposition and persecution. Often it appeared as though they were accomplishing nothing at all as the churches they planted fell into deceptions and wrong teachings. Yet look at how their lives have affected the entire world!

When I look across all of human history, the person who had the most powerful participation in bringing God’s salvation to the earth was Mary. This is just my opinion but you have to admit, she played a pretty big role.

But what did she actually do?

She BELIEVED what the Angel told her was true.

She SUBMITTED to God’s wonderful plan.

She MOTHERED Jesus.

Could I be as powerful in the course of human history as Mary if I just believe, submit, and mother?

If I could just BELIEVE every word God tells me.

If I could just joyfully SUBMIT, YEILD, and SURRENDER to God’s best for me.

If I could just MOTHER – love, nourish, carry, teach, serve, and protect each child God gives to me.

Even Mary lost her most influential place of mothering for a while. Maybe she didn’t agree with what Jesus was doing because it seemed too controversial or too dangerous. Perhaps she was too weighed down with the concerns of her other children and life in general. When she and her other sons went to see Jesus while He was teaching a large group, He didn’t go out to them.

He said, “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?” He pointed to His disciples and said, “These are my mother and my brothers. Whoever hears the words of God and does them is my mother and brothers.”

If I had been Mary, I would have been devastated by His words. Then I would have gotten really mad! “Listen mister, I said yes to carrying you in my womb even though it sullied my reputation and messed up my life. I gave birth to you and nursed you and took care of you during all the hard times! None of these guys here know what the angel said to me. They don’t know what Anna or Simeon said about you. They didn’t see you take your first steps or nurse you through sickness. How could you say that they are your mother!”

Yet she must have realized that Jesus was never wrong. He was never disrespectful or vengeful or mean for meanness sake. All His words were true…every time. Mary must have repented before God for not hearing His words and obeying them during this crucial time in Jesus’ ministry, because she was there with disciples in the upper room.

What this story tells me is that anyone, anywhere at anytime can have Mary’s impact if they simply hear God’s voice and obey. To hear God’s voice we must love Him, wait on Him, spend time with Him, read His words over and over. To obey Him is always to love because He is love.

In essence – to BELIEVE

TO SUBMIT

TO MOTHER

To live this kind of life takes faith to believe without seeing.

To live this kind of life is so much harder than just checking items off a to-do list.

To live this kind of life is something I am sure that I can’t do on my own.

To live this kind of life is the POWER and GLORY of my motherhood; to watch God take my little, seemingly insignificant acts of love and obedience and turn them into something

EARTH SHAKING

ETERNITY CHANGING

BEYOND MY IMAGINATION IMPORTANT

What is the Glory of Motherhood?

June 26, 2016June 26, 2016 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 1 Comment

“Will you awaken mothers to the glory of their calling?”

I keep hearing the Holy Spirit asking me that question. And I have to answer with a question of my own.

“What is the glory of my calling?”

Honestly, I am having trouble seeing it in the midst of one big mess after another. Courage’s birthday was a perfect example of this.

It had been a pretty peaceful day. I had time to get the house cleaned and ready for the party celebrating our fiery three-year old. All of his presents were wrapped. The supper was prepared in advance. I had gathered the ingredients for Courage’s heart’s desire; a chocolate dirt cake with gummy bears. I had also made two additional desserts with special ingredients to accommodate the more delicate members of our family.

I was sitting on the sofa, waiting for dinner time. “This is an important part of motherhood right here,” I thought. Celebrating my children and creating happy birthday memories for them. I was hoping that Courage would feel loved and special and that the entire family would have fun.

I started setting the table and getting the food ready when my perfectly planned birthday celebration began to unravel.

“Chai just threw up on the carpet!!!” I heard an excited child yell. At first I tried to ignore it and continued the dinner preparations. Maybe they were exaggerating as children are prone to do, or maybe someone else would take care of it. No such luck.

I went from working with food in the kitchen to scraping stinky puke off the living room carpet. Chai had suddenly gotten sick and ended up sleeping in his bed for the entire birthday party. The smell and the germs were not what I had planned. Thank goodness my mom was the only guest, and we didn’t have a house full of people!

As I began scrubbing the carpet with cleanser, I heard the sound of some sort of ball hitting the side of the house. This didn’t go on for long before I heard Chris yell out the window, “Cole, stop kicking the soccer ball against the house!”

Did Cole heed his father’s wise advice? No, the banging continued once more, twice more, and then…the sickening sound of shattering glass! Cole had just broken our living room window. Thankfully, it was the storm window so none of the glass came into the house. But there was glass all over the back patio.

“Oh well, I can’t worry about that right now,” I thought to myself. “I have to throw in some laundry, get the boys to take out this trash, scrub my hands about fifty times in hot water, and then finish putting the food on the table.”

Back into the kitchen I went. Then Areli came to me holding the cup used to measure the laundry detergent.

“Courage just handed this to me… filled with his pee!” she told me.

“Of course he did,” I thought. I was bracing myself for the next catastrophe that was sure to come.

Amazingly, the rest of the evening went just fine. We all sang “Happy Birthday” very loudly. Cake was eaten. Presents were opened and played with.

We made a big mess and cleaned up a big mess. We put all the children to bed and prayed that no one else would throw up during the night. We got into bed late to get up early and do it all over again. Doesn’t seem very glorious, does it?

“Will you awaken mothers to the glory of their calling?”

Rick Joyner heard a great Queen ask him this very question in a vision that he wrote about in The Torch and the Sword. He said that she was astonishingly beautiful and seemed to be motherhood in all of its glory. She explained that she was Jerusalem above, the mother of all who worship in Spirit and truth, the church as it was called to be.

She asked Rick, “Will you awaken mothers to the glory of their calling? Will you give my daughters swords and torches? They are the ones who keep the torches alive, and they will wield the sword wisely. My daughters will stop the death and bring back the life!”

Perhaps to see a bit of the glory of my calling, I should find out what these swords and torches are all about. Here are a few excerpts from the book and I hope it is encouraging to you!

The Lord handed Rick a torch and told him, “This is the light of My presence. If I was not close to you, you could not hold it. If you drift from My presence, it will become heavy. If you drift very far from Me, you will have to lay it down…It is yours to carry for as long as you stay close to Me…No power on earth can put it out if the torchbearer walks with Me in this realm. Its brightness and power depend on the life of the torch-bearer, and on how close he stays to Me.”

Then Rick met Tomas a Kempis who told him, “You can set people, cities, and even nations free with the light of this torch…The torch you carry has been the source of every true movement of the Spirit. The leaders of these movements were all torchbearers…If you are going to endure to the end, you must stay close to the Source of this light and fire.”

The Lord spoke about Thomas, “Men thought of Thomas as a humble laborer, one to cook, wash dishes, and weed gardens [sounds a lot like a mom’s job!], but he, too, carried this torch. From his post of washing dishes, he became more powerful than kings or emperors. He prophesied to millions over generations. Even today My message goes forth from his writings to help prepare the coming ones. You can be more powerful washing dishes and staying close to Me than you would be leading armies or nations but drifting from Me.”

I need to read that again!

“YOU CAN BE MORE POWERFUL WASHING DISHES AND STAYING CLOSE TO ME than you would be leading armies or nations but drifting from Me.”

To be torchbearers, to carry this fire that brings life rather than destroys, we must abide in Jesus.

Rick met Enoch who had so much of this life flowing through him that he never died. Enoch said, “The Lord makes His messengers flames of fire. You cannot walk with God, or fulfill His purpose for you on the earth, unless you keep this fire burning in your heart. Lukewarmness is your deadly enemy.”

Lukewarmness can easily creep into the mind numbing daily grind of a mother. It is the overwhelming hardships and challenges of motherhood that push us into his presence! How I want to be one of the chosen torchbearers!

Jesus told Rick, “You will know these chosen ones by the fire that already burns in them. They will never be content with religious practices, for they yearn for Me and the reality of this realm. Because they seek Me, I will be found by them. I will give them their heart’s desire – My fellowship. I will be their inheritance.”

Later in the vision, Rick found himself preparing for a battle. The only other warriors with him were a young girl and John Wesley. Wesley told him, “The Lord called a dozen men. He changed them and then they changed the world. In your time He is going to do the same with the children. It is also the time of the lioness. Great are the company of women who will preach the gospel. There will be many great men of God in your time – but the great marvel and great honor will be for the women and children who walk in the ways of the Lord.”

Later the Lord gave Rick a sword and said, “It will only become heavy if you wield it in your own strength. This is my Word of redemption. It cannot be destroyed, but will stand forever…No power on the earth is stronger than my redemption…This is the sword of the Spirit…You are holding my living Word…to receive my word into your heart must be your quest every day. Then you will begin to see. Then you will have understanding.

“It was by my Word that the universe was created, and it is by My Word that it is held together. My Word is the answer to every human problem…The sword that is being given to my messengers in the last days can break any yoke, and cut through any chain.”

“Will you awaken mothers to the glory of their calling? Will you give my daughters swords ad torches? They are the ones who keep the torches alive, and they will wield the sword wisely. My daughters will stop the death and bring back the life!”

“I am a woman. I am a mother. I am the keeper and sustainer of life here on earth. Heaven stands in honor of my mission. No one else can carry my call. I am the daughter of Eve. Eve has been redeemed. I am the opposition of death. I am a woman.” – Christianna Reed Maas

The reality is, we can carry the living fire of His presence and the powerful Word of redemption into every part of our day – the fun celebrations and the puking parties, the playtime and the hard work. That is glorious even if it doesn’t feel like it at the time. We don’t need any special skills or qualifications. All that is required is that we seek Him first, abide in Him, and receive His words into our hearts every day.

How Does God Feel About Mothers?

May 7, 2016May 7, 2016 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment

I never considered it a sacrifice to be a mother. I have always thought it was a privilege and the most amazing calling. It is powerful and world-changing to be a mother, to grow and nourish the next generation.

Yet, now that I have been a mother for 17 years, I am getting a bit weary. I have realized that I really don’t have my own life. My days are filled with the needs of my husband and children. I find myself daydreaming about what it would be like to be alone in the house with nothing to do except exactly what I WANTED to do.

Most of the time, I enjoy being at home with my children. It is my favorite place to be. I just assumed that it was my children’s favorite place to be as well. One night Chris was working late and I was sitting at the dinner table with all of my nine children. A peaceful meal is so refreshing to the soul; enjoying the smells and flavors, exchanging stimulating conversation.

A meal is never a peaceful affair at my house. That night the children were all so loud, I couldn’t follow any one conversation. Several of the boys were discussing topics not appropriate for the table. The three-year old kept getting up and wandering around, and the 6-year-old kept standing up on the bench. In an attempt to regain control, I lifted my voice and shouted above the noise, “Everyone be quiet! We are going around the table and I want each one of you to tell me your favorite part of the day. The rest of you just listen!”

The chaos quieted to a dull roar, and the children shared with me what they most enjoyed about their day. The elementary school boys all enjoyed playing kickball at recess. Cadin, who is fifteen, just started Cyber School after being homeschooled. He had to go take the PSSAs for the first time. He had never had to sit for 7 hours in a classroom before, and I thought he would hate it. Yet, when it was his turn to share, Cadin said, “My favorite part of the day was taking the PSSAs.”

“Really?! Why is that?” I asked.

“Because I didn’t have to be at home,” he answered.

“You don’t like being at home?” I asked, feeling very hurt.

“Well,” Cadin started with an apologetic voice, “I got to get a break and I didn’t have to do any chores.”

“I understand how he feels,” said Areli, my 17-year-old daughter. “My favorite part of the day is when I do school, alone in my room.”

Now the small ache in my heart was growing. “Well, I never actually get to be alone,” I said. “Except maybe when I am in the bathroom.”

“You do get a nap every day,” Areli countered.

“That is true, and I so appreciate that nap! But I am still not alone. I have to share the room with the baby and wake up when she wakes up. I am really never alone.” I said.

Cole, the 15-year-old cynic, chimed in, “That’s your own fault for having so many children. You and Dad went a little crazy,” he pointed out.

I felt the wind go out of my sails. My own children didn’t even appreciate my willingness to carry them, give birth to them; give up sleep and privacy and alone time for them. They couldn’t see the purpose in this crazy, loud, mess that is the Brandenburg household. Sometimes I lose sight of it too.

When I look down the corridors of history, I don’t see the stories full of mothers heroically laying their lives down for their children. I see men who fight battles, conquer, and enslave. I see men who fight battles, conquer, and set free. I see stories of kings and rulers.

When I turn on the TV, I don’t see news stories about the amazing mom who changed 24 diapers in the last 24 hours with only 3 hours of sleep the night before. I see lawmakers and lawbreakers, politicians and rebels.

When I watch an awards show, I never see a mom who looks like me get up on stage and accept a prestigious award for her amazing ability to check items off a to do list and keep 9 children clothed and feed. That is for the talented artists who receive the praise of millions of adoring fans.

What I thought was my little fan club was now telling me that they would rather be out of the house or alone instead of spending time with me.

I turned to a book that always helps me gain an eternal perspective, The Final Quest by Rick Joyner. He shares a prophetic experience he had when he was in the throne room of heaven. He started in the very back of the room. On his long walk to the front where the Lord was, he passed crowds of believers who had already died. The multitudes standing at the back were more glorious than Rick had imagined people could ever be. He was shocked to find out that these were in the very lowest rank in heaven.

One man he had known on earth explained it to him this way, “There is an aristocracy of sorts here. The rewards for our earthly lives are the eternal positions that we will have forever. This great multitude are those whom the Lord called ‘foolish virgins.’ We knew the Lord and trusted in His cross for salvation, but we lived for ourselves more than we really lived for him…there is no greater folly than to know the great salvation of God, but then go on living for yourself.”

This man was still more glorious and full of joy and peace than Rick had ever imagined possible. It was simply because even a moment in the lowest part of heaven is much greater than a thousand years in the highest life on earth, and every person there had received so much more than they actually deserved. As Rick moved toward the throne, he learned from the mistakes of those in the lowest ranks, and discovered that those same mistakes resided in his own life.

A great Christian leader during his life on earth told him, “What looks good on earth looks very different here. What will make you a king on earth will often be a stumbling block to keep you from being a king here. What will make you a king here is lowly and unclaimed on earth.”

Later, a famous reformer stepped forward and Rick couldn’t believe that he was in the lowest rank. The reformer told him, “God does have a different set of history books than those on the earth. You have had a glimpse of this but you do not yet know how different they are. Earthly histories will pass away, but the books that are kept here will last forever. If you can rejoice in what heaven is recording about your life, you are blessed indeed.”

Then the reformer gave Rick some advice, “The high calling is not out of reach for anyone that the Lord has called. I will tell you what will keep you on the path of life – love the Savior and seek His glory alone. Everything you do to exalt yourself will one day bring you the most terrible humiliation. Everything you do out of genuine love for the Savior, to glorify His name, will extend the limits of His eternal kingdom and ultimately result in a much higher place for yourself. Live for what is recorded here. Care nothing for what is recorded on earth.”

As Rick continued walking towards the glory of Jesus, he saw that each rank was many times greater than the previous one. He described it like this, “When I was still not even halfway to the throne, what had been the indescribable glory of the first rank now seemed to be outer darkness in comparison to the glory of those I was now passing. The greatest beauty on earth would not qualify to be found anywhere in heaven. And I was told that this room was just the threshold of indescribable realms of glory!”

Rick learned from those who had fallen short of their destinies and also learned from those who had overcome and remained faithful to Jesus. “Those who stumbled did so in many different ways. But those who prevailed all did it the same way: They did not deviate from their devotion to the first and greatest commandment – loving the Lord. In this way, their service was done unto Him, not to men. These were the ones who worshipped the Lamb and followed him wherever He went.”

Finally after what seemed like years of traveling, Rick reached the throne. “Near the judgement seat of Christ, those in the highest ranks were sitting on thrones that were all a part of His throne. Even the least of these thrones was many times more glorious than any earthly throne. Some of those on the thrones were rulers over cities on earth and would soon take their places. Others were rulers over the affairs of heaven, and still others ruled over the affairs of the physical creation, such as star systems and galaxies.

“It was apparent that those who were given authority over cities were esteemed even above those who had been given authority over galaxies. The value OF A SINGLE CHILD (emphasis added) surpassed that of a galaxy of stars because the Lord has chosen men as His eternal dwelling place…

“At one point the Lord looked toward the galleries of thrones around Him. Many were occupied, but many were empty. He then said, ‘These thrones are for the overcomers who have served Me faithfully in every generation. My Father and I prepared them before the foundation of the world. Are you worthy to sit on one of these?’

“…I looked at those who were now seated on the thrones. I could recognize most of those seated had not even been well-known on earth.

“Many of those on the thrones had been missionaries who expended their lives in obscurity. They had never cared to be remembered on earth, but wanted only to be remembered by Him. I was a bit surprised to see some who had been wealthy, and rulers who had been faithful with what they had been given. However, it seemed that faithful, praying women and mothers occupied more thrones than any other single group.”

I have read this passage many times and every time my eyes flood with tears and my heart swells like it will burst! My Lord has so honored mothers that many sit with him on the highest thrones in heaven! My Lord so honors mothers that he allowed Rick Joyner to write down the revelation so that we could read it and be encouraged.

Mothers, let’s receive His grace to walk this path like eternity depends on it. Jesus gave Rick this wisdom, “Those empty seats could have been filled in any generation. I gave the invitation to sit here to everyone who has called upon My name. The seats are still available. Now the last battle has come, and many who are last shall be first. These seats will be filled before the battle is over. Those who sit here will be known by two things: They will wear the mantle of humility, and they will have my likeness.”

I am right where God wants me to be. I am in the perfect place to love Him and to serve Him. I don’t need to be famous or acclaimed or recognized or talented. I just need to be who He has made me to be.

I don’t need the world to understand the importance of what I am doing. I don’t even need my children to understand and appreciate me. I know that Jesus understands and he sees.

I don’t feel at all able to walk this path perfectly. I am full of selfishness and I get off track so easily. I realize that I can’t even do the basics, loving my husband and children, on my own. I need His great grace! But I am in the perfect place to receive His Grace…every…single…day!

She was Bald, Toothless, Covered with Scabs…and She was Indescribably Beautiful.

December 8, 2015December 8, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 5 Comments

I had developed quite an affection for my neighbor across the street, Sandy. I had met her eight years ago when we moved into our house. She was small and looked older than her years. We invited her to neighborhood get-togethers, but she never came. In her own words, she was “backwards, shy, and didn’t go out of her house much.”

Pretty soon her habit of being a hermit became a necessity. Her heart started to fail because of years of smoking. She had to get a pacemaker and could hardly walk across the street without becoming winded. On those rare occasions that we saw each other outside, I was struck by the beauty and sweetness of her heart, buried beneath a wrinkled and toothless exterior.

I was amazed by how she was able to quit smoking cold turkey after 30 years of the habit. I was touched when she called me on the phone because she had seen a rainbow outside that she thought my children would love to see.

Once I visited her in her cute little home that had been in her family for 100 years. She showed me every Christmas card we had ever sent out, and I got the impression that she treasured them and considered us more than acquaintances. We were good friends. She could observe our comings and goings through her front window. She noticed when the boys were playing outside and how much they were growing. I realized that I should make the effort to visit her more often.

I really did try to reach out to her, but my visits were few and far between. Every time I looked out my front window, I would imagine her alone in her home except for her faithful dog. I would pray for her. Pray for her to not be lonely but to feel God’s presence. Pray for her to feel his love for her. As I prayed, day after day, my love for her grew. She became my mission field. I could not go out and do things with the freedom that I wanted to, having to be with my children and nurse the baby frequently, but I could pray for Sandy.

One night I felt the urgency to call her. I had almost never called her. In fact, I don’t call other people very often because I am afraid of bothering them and being a pest. Maybe that is how Sandy feels, I thought. Despite the fact that I had offered to help her time and again, she had never called me for help. Perhaps she was afraid.

It was late at night, but I knew her health was failing. What if I missed an opportunity? What if she was at home but in trouble? The urge was so strong, that I just had to call.

She answered and was just fine. But I got the chance to tell her that I had been praying for her and that God loved her so much.

A few months later, in the sticky heat of summer, I finally got over to visit her. Her home was messy and so dustly, it was hard for me to breath. I felt a bit sick as I sat there and chatted cheerfully. How must she feel, with her bad heart and a chronic respiratory infection? She had no energy to clean! Plus she was connected to a bulky oxygen tank by a long tube in her nose. I asked if there was anything I could do to help. At first she said no. Finally she told me that she had groceries in her truck that she had been unable to carry in from the morning.

I was appalled! It had been 90 degrees that day. Surely her groceries were ruined. But I kept a smile on my face and said, “Sure, the boys and I would love to carry them in.”

We got all the groceries in. Thankfully the perishable items had been put into the fridge earlier. I dumped the huge bag of dog food into the dog food dispenser and tried to help with anything else I could. All the while Sandy was muttering, “I hate to ask people for help.”

I pleaded with her to call me the next time she went shopping. I did not receive a call, but sometime later, Sandy’s best friend knocked on my door. She looked terribly agitated and asked if she could sit. I offered her a chair, but she never sat. She stood and paced and rubbed her hands on her legs as she explained the reason for her visit.

“Did you hear the sirens last night? Well, Sandy was back in her room using the large oxygen tank. I don’t know why she did this, but she lit a lighter and the oxygen caught on fire. She was burned all over her face, and her bed was burned. She was able to call 911, but she was unresponsive when they came. She is in the burn unit, and I don’t know what is going to happen.”

Her friend was so distressed, and now I was too! Sandy’s health was so bad, could she possible live through this? Had I lost my opportunity to tell her about Jesus?

I really prayed for Sandy over the next few days. Had I shown her God’s love the way he had asked me too? God gave me this verse.

Ezekiel 33:7-9 “I have appointed you as a watchman for the people of Israel; therefore listen to what I say and warn them for me. When I say to the wicked, ‘O wicked man, you will die!’ and you don’t tell him what I say, so that he does not repent –that wicked person will die in his sins, but I will hold you responsible for his death. But if you warn him to repent and he doesn’t, he will die in his sin, and you will not be responsible.”

I had always hesitated to lay out the gospel message when I thought that others couldn’t or wouldn’t receive it. But here God was telling me that the outcome was not my responsibility. I was simply responsible to do what he was asking me to do.

Amazingly, Sandy was back home within a few weeks. I resolved to obey Jesus the best that I could. I felt that he loved Sandy and just wanted me to introduce her to him. I didn’t know if she knew him, if she believed in him at all.

I visited and called a few times a week, bringing her food and handmade cards and encouragement. I wanted to make sure that I was there to help even if she couldn’t ask me for it. I had some lovely times sitting in her cozy home (which was now bright and clean thanks to her very energetic best friend). Sandy’s face was black with scabs. Her head had been shaved. Her body couldn’t get rid of all the fluids that they had pumped into her at the hospital, and she had blown up like a very uncomfortable balloon. Her heart had gone from working at 25% to only 10%. I wished that there was something I could do for her! I asked her if I could pray for her and she let me. Maybe Jesus would heal her to show her how much he loved her. I tried to have faith that we could see a miracle!

“Jesus loves you so much, Sandy!” I told her. “Do you know how much he loves you?” I asked. Here was my chance to introduce my friend Jesus to my friend Sandy. I could tell her about how I met Jesus and ask if she had ever met him in that way.

“I don’t know if he loves me. Things keep going wrong for me. I am so sick. I just want to be able to get out of the house and drive to the store or something.”

I felt the weight of her suffering. I felt the power of her pain. I had been going through a season of suffering as well, carrying many unanswered prayers and unanswered questions. I wasn’t sure how to answer her because I wasn’t sure how to appease the sorrow of my own heart. I knew that Jesus loved us, but I didn’t know how to explain how I knew.

“That’s what I am praying for. I pray you will feel better and better.” That was all that I could think of to say. Perhaps Jesus would heal her through the night and she would begin to see his goodness. I would check back with her in a few days and try again to introduce her to Jesus.

Sadly, I never got the chance. Some days later we saw an ambulance sitting in the street between our houses. There were police all around. My heart was heavy. If she was truly having an emergency, the ambulance wouldn’t be sitting there like that. The police wouldn’t talk to us about what was going on, but later that night we found out.

Sandy had simply collapsed and died. I couldn’t believe it. I had no more time to develop a friendship. No more time to pray for her. No more time to tell her my testimony and find out if she had one of her own. I did not know the condition of her soul, if she trusted in Jesus and he carried her to heaven, or if she never knew him and she was separated from him forever.

All I knew was that I had not done what Jesus had asked me to. I hadn’t introduced her to him. I was distraught. I felt like the most horrible evangelist there had ever been. My mission field had been one person and I had failed. I had failed Sandy and I had failed Jesus.

I talked to God about it. How could I go through life knowing that there was something more that I could have done to save her? How could I enjoy eternity if Sandy was not there? How I longed to see her again. How I longed to see her restored and renewed and healed. I wanted to see her in all the glory and beauty that I KNEW was in her but could never be seen in this life. I felt the value of her soul and grieved because the precious jewel that she was might be lost forever.

“Is she with you God?”

He hasn’t given me a clear answer yet. I needed to feel the weight of my mistake and repent. I needed it to push me closer to Jesus and closer to his heart.

I NEED to become a better evangelist! I NEED to practice and be uncomfortable and try and try again.

What he did remind me of was this. He knew that evangelism hasn’t been one of my gifts, normally being very shy myself. He knew that this was my first big assignment (that I was aware of). He had factored in my weaknesses and failure into his plan. He wanted me to learn from this and move on with more understanding and more confidence. He did not want me to give up in guilt and despair. He wanted me to move forward, being open to talk to anyone and everyone about him.

He reminded me of how far I had come. Many places I have lived, I never gotten to know my neighbors at all! Slowly I began to become more outgoing (with help from my husband). In this neighborhood, I have a good friendship with most everyone on my block.

Over the years I had prayed and prayed and prayed again for Sandy’s salvation, for her comfort, for her healing. The Great God, who loves Sandy infinitely more than I do, wouldn’t let those prayers go unanswered, would he?

All it would have taken from Sandy would have been one cry!

“Jesus!”

A cry in her heart or with her mouth and he would have been there, rushing in with his glorious presence, wrapping her with his love and immortality! I am sure of it.

Whether she ever cried out to him, I do not know. I do know that I miss my friend. Instead of her white car with the American flag flying from the window; there is an ugly, rusted dumpster in front of her house, gathering the discarded pieces of a life. Instead of seeing the candles in her windows, all I see is darkness. I don’t know if I will ever see her again.

What I do know is that our obedience matters. It has eternal consequences that are too heavy for me to even understand. Yet our obedience has the potential to bring more joy and glory and reward than we can even imagine! And we can only be obedient if we are listening and watching what our Father is doing.

Do you know Jesus? He is my friend and he has been the best friend I have ever known. He has never left me and he never will. He is with you right now and will be with you forever if you want him to. Can I introduce you to him?

How Does God Define Success?

November 2, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

One day I was driving home from church and passed a big, shiny, brand new pick-up truck. It was a beauty…and it was grey. Oh, did I mention that it was really shiny with lots of chrome and cool lights. Did I tell you that it was impressive like the trucks on the commercials that are driving haphazardly through large mud puddles and hauling tons of important, manly looking items? That is about all of the technical details I can recall about this truck. If my husband had seen it, he could tell you the make, the model, the year and several important facts about it. Then he would say with a frustrated but wistful longing, “I would love to have a truck like that!”

I would love for my husband to be able to have a truck like that! He has owned at least 4 different pick-up trucks, all of them used. All of them needed a lot of repairs and were more trouble than what they were worth, in my opinion. But Chris does do a lot of hauling and hard work, and loves pick-up trucks. As I passed this particular grey truck, I wondered to myself, “What would it feel like to be able to own a truck like that? What would it feel like to be successful enough to turn Chris’ dream into a reality?”

God used that grey truck to shine a light on the inner workings of my heart. I realized that my definition of success was this: having enough money to buy an expensive new truck. Then I thought about my vision for our future, a future where Chris and I had been successful. I saw our family living in our dream house we had found on the internet. The one that has seven bedrooms, six bathrooms and ten acres. We were able to pay all our bills on time. We were able to buy a new camper. We were able to take time off from work to use that great new camper on vacations with all the children. We had enough space and time and money to open our home to missionaries needing some R &R, and maybe we even developed a ministry to special needs children on our lovely property.

In my vision, our future was so beautiful and we were so prosperous…and comfortable. My idea of success is the American dream: to work hard to earn a good life and then be able to enjoy that good life. Dictionary.reference.com defines the American dream as: a life of personal happiness and material comfort as traditionally sought by individuals in the U.S.

Exactly! That is what I wanted! Isn’t that what we all want?

But is that what God wants for us? Is that His best for us? What is God’s definition of success?

Jesus said that we should seek his kingdom first. Isn’t his kingdom all about…well, HIM?? Isn’t it all about knowing Jesus and having relationship with him and becoming like him? Anything that distracts us from knowing him is no success at all.

I realized that my definition of success was infinitely too small. A shiny grey truck could make me happy when the most beautiful, powerful, captivating treasure was waiting in the wings…waiting to be sought out, to be discovered, to be experienced, and to be loved. And that treasure was waiting to show me his love, to blow apart my mindsets and wreck my American dream if necessary to bring me to himself.

“You will not measure true spiritual fruit rightly while you are in the earth. You can only measure your true success by how much more clearly you are able to behold the LORD, by how much better you know His Voice, and by how much more you love the brethren.

“You must not try to judge by the fruit that you see on earth, but do what you must because it is right.

“Even so, more that bearing fruit, your call must be to know the LORD. If you seek Him you will always find Him. He is always near to those who draw near. ..There is no higher purpose. Your victory will be measured by your seeking. You will always be as close to Him as you want to be. Your victory in life will be according to your desire for him” – The Call

A new idea of success was forming in my mind. To know Jesus more each day. To look into his eyes every moment and see his great love for me. To live in that love. To be able to see the face of God clearly enough to make out when he is smiling. To desire to make him smile with my every thought and word and deed. What joy and peace that would bring to any circumstance of life that I might find myself in.

That, my friends, is true success!

How to Let Go of the Pain

August 12, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 4 Comments

Usually the weeks and months after I give birth, I am so happy! I love caring for a newborn, nursing, snuggling, and looking into that precious little face. That face contains all of the wonders of the world, and I bask in the glory of it. Even in the midst of sleep deprivation, I feel the bliss of motherhood. This time I experienced something unusual for me. Amazing joy and deep sadness side by side. Sometimes in those rare moments of peace and quiet while nursing Annalise, I would begin to cry. I was so happy about my little girl, yet so sad about how she had to come into the world. The sorrowful thoughts kept coming, even though my life was so good. I had seen many women go through a C-section with strength and grace and never complain. Why was I having such a hard time?

My recovery was much slower than with my natural births. When I returned home from the hospital, I couldn’t walk and hold my baby at the same time. I would sleep any spare moment of the day and night and still feel dog tired. Yet that was not why I was so sad.

During the difficult days of pregnancy, I would envision my lovely birth and the ecstasy that would follow. That birth would make all the suffering worthwhile. Yet this C-section birth had not produced that bliss. In fact, as soon as Annalise was born and whisked away to the recovery room, I was left alone with a hollow feeling that went deep into my heart. To read the whole birth story read, “The Heartbreak and Joy of having a C-section.”

Having to give up my dream of a beautiful, natural homebirth had challenged many things that I had held to be true. It had shaken my faith in what I thought about life, what I thought about God, what I thought about my own body. It had challenged my ability to hear God’s voice. I thought that God had told me that natural, easy labor was my inheritance as his daughter, yet mysteriously I was denied access this time. I couldn’t figure out why. Scriptures God had given me during my pregnancy told me not to fear disaster. To me, having a C-section was a disaster. God didn’t design my body to give birth through an incision in my abdomen. If this thing could happen to me, this disaster that I couldn’t control or predict; what else would God allow to come into my life? What other catastrophic events were on their way? Maybe something could happen to steal the health and life of my precious baby. If I had so misinterpreted God’s voice concerning this birth, how could I ever be sure of hearing him again?

These thoughts are similar to the thoughts that any person has after a trauma, whether it is small or life altering. It occurred to me that this is a small part of what causes post-traumatic stress syndrome. A person lives through events that destroy their assumption that life is good, safe, enjoyable, and fair. They have to come to faith all over again. They have to find their way back into the arms of a loving father. It is a tragedy that once the horrible events are over and they are truly safe, they may never feel safe again.

I have lived through many such traumas. They don’t seem like much compared to what other people have had to endure, but they were earth shattering to me at the time. Each time I had to seek God again for the truth that would set me free and the love that would cast out my fear. Each time God would draw so near to my broken heart and bring healing. I would love to share what he has taught me, using my recent C-section as an example.

Pain demands to be felt. Don’t shove it down or pretend it isn’t real. Don’t deny it because you think you should be strong enough to be happy in all circumstances. Suppressed emotions always surface in one way or another. Feel what you feel. Grieving is an important step to healing. God is close to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Revel in his closeness through your nights of sorrow.

Don’t stay in your pain forever! What caused your pain may be the reality you are living in right now. Seek God for a higher reality, a reality that goes beyond what you can see. A reality that is forever.

My body was scarred and bruised from a surgery I had done everything to avoid. God had not answered my prayers for him to move my placenta out of the way. I felt betrayed. I had offered him my body as a living sacrifice, and I thought he would protect me from this.

I thought about my God, and realized that he could never betray me. It goes against his loving nature. Jesus was betrayed, yet he would never betray. He was scarred and bruised for my sake. He had proven his love for me. He COULD NOT EVER betray me. If he didn’t answer my prayers, it was because he had something better in mind. He would bring good out of this situation, even if I couldn’t see it.

Ask Jesus to show you where he was and what he was doing before, during, and after the traumatic event. Read through your journal entries during that time or look at pictures taken during that time and ask Jesus to speak to you about them.

I read through my journal that I kept during Annalise’s pregnancy. I saw God calming my fears again and again, promising to protect the life of my child. He did that when I had spotting around week 15. He did that when I was having signs of preterm labor around week 34. He did that when the marginal placenta was diagnosed at 38 weeks. My little girl was safe in his hands the entire time. He told me not to FEAR disaster, not that a “disaster” would never happen. He was simply telling me that there was no disaster that I needed to fear because he was with me.

I also had a dream toward the end of the pregnancy. Annalise came out through my belly and she looked up at me with ice blue eyes. She was a serene as could be. This dream turned out to be very accurate. God had been preparing me.

Talk about it with trusted friends. Many times they can see things with a clarity that isn’t clouded by overpowering emotions.

A week after Annalise was born; I was able to attend a birthday dinner for a friend. During the meal, I confided to the ladies that I still felt sad about the C-section. I was sharing about how I love to minister to other pregnant women, to pray for them and give them peace and confidence about labor. Now I wasn’t confident about anything anymore.

One of the women said, “Do you think you have more empathy now for women who have had a C-section?”

I most certainly did! She continued to say, “There are so many women out there who are feeling inadequate about some part of their mothering. Perhaps they couldn’t give birth naturally; perhaps they were unable to nurse. You are able to understand and minister to them.”

“Yes,” another friend chimed in, “God has just extended your authority.”

I had never thought about it that way, but it was really true. There was meaning to my suffering.

Another friend sent me a text before the procedure, because she knew I was very distraught. She said that God was increasing my trust in him. That has been true as well! I trust him more because he brought Annalise and I through beautifully. If a circumstance brings me closer to God, then it was worth it!

Give Jesus the pain and receive his joy in return. He gives us the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. He already carried the weight of all of our pain. Let him carry your pain right now and every day. (If it was another person who caused the pain; forgive, forgive, forgive.)

I kept giving him my sorrow, every time it resurfaced, even if I didn’t totally understand why I was feeling so sad. It became less and less. He already carried the weight of my pain so there was no reason for me to try and carry it. One of my favorite songs remind me to “Turn my eyes Upon Jesus.”

Take care of your body. Your body, soul, and spirit are so interconnected; one affects the other. Eat good food. Take probiotics. Get some exercise.

Once Annalise and I were both able to sleep through the night, it was amazing how much better the whole world looked to me! For help with that, read “How to Help Your Baby Sleep Through the Night.”

Thank God for everything you can think of, every morning, every evening, every day, now and forever. When you realize all he has given you, all he has already done for you; gratitude begins to eclipse the sorrow. Fill your mind with all the good things, and the disappointment doesn’t have room.

When I shared with my friends and family that I was going to have a C-section, I was overwhelmed by all the love and support and prayers I received. I would think of each person and feel so thankful for their love.

My homebirth midwives spent 7 hours at the hospital with me even though they couldn’t attend the birth.

My mother-in-law drove all the way from Florida to help.

My mom was so excited about the new little girl and brought me a rose and blueberries in the hospital.

My other children were amazing and took care of each other at home.

My husband Chris was a hero in the hospital. After the surgery, I felt uglier, weaker, and more pitiful than I ever had before. Yet I never felt more cherished! My husband tenderly helped me to walk, to go to the bathroom, to take a shower. He slept on that horrible hospital chair night after night and never complained about a thing!

Annalise has been one of my easiest, happiest babies. She is worth any pain I had to endure. Now when I see my scar, I don’t think about my disappointment. I think about my little bitty pretty one and I am so THANKFUL that she is here!

Looking back over my life, I can say that the worst of times were always transformed into the best of times because of God’s voice. When I am desperate, God always meets me and shows me his love. He always speaks words that impact me deeply. His words and his close presence during my times of sorrow have changed the way I see the world for the better. They have shaped the person I am today. Even though I still have to walk through hard times, I know that amazing joy is waiting for me on the other side. And I know that the journey is worth it!

Nobody Knows in Advance Which Day Will Be the Day of Their Death

February 4, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 5 Comments

For my Grammy, that day was February 4, 2011. Sometimes you get an inkling that this life is drawing to a close. With Grammy, I was completely shocked. I was thinking that she could live another ten years, being from a family of long livers. She was even improving and starting to eat and walk again. I had no idea that February 4^th was her day. I simply thought it was my last day with her for a time, since I was flying back to Pennsylvania on February 5^th. I am so thankful for that last day with her.

Grammy was cozy in her new room at Harbor House, a memory care facility. She was confused about a lot of things, but she kept on insisting that she was going to move back to her apartment at Primrose. She had spent the Christmas holiday in rehab after a stroke. She was unable to get any of her mail. So she and I spent a long time on her favorite love seat, reading every single Christmas card she had received. I was amazed by how many people still sent her cards and how detailed their letters were. She remembered every single person and told me nice things about each one.

Then I read to her the scripture God had given me when I was praying for her before this trip, Isaiah 43:1-4. I saw Jesus carrying her through this strange new trial like a lamb on his shoulders and he was saying, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you. You are precious and honored in my sight and I LOVE YOU!”

Grammy paused from her talking for a moment. I wondered what was going through her mind, and I hoped that she felt God’s love. Then she started right back into discussing moving back to Primrose.

Soon she became very tired, and we tucked her into bed for an afternoon nap. She looked comfortable and peaceful. I kissed her on the cheek and said goodbye.

Chris and I spent the evening with relatives. What a wonderful evening we had! We returned our rental car since a shuttle would be taking us to the airport in the morning. Our relatives drove us back to our rented room at Primrose. Chris and I were so worn out from our busy week. We wanted to just flop into bed and sleep as much as we could before our early morning flight. However, we still had to pack our bags. As we were getting everything ready to return home, we received a phone call. A young nurse from Harbor House informed us with a shaky voice that Grammy had passed away! She had slept away the afternoon. One of the nurses had tried to rouse her for dinner, but Grammy said she was too tired and just wanted to keep on sleeping. When they checked on her again, she had no pulse.

My heart started to beat fast. Was this supposed to be happening? Grammy dead, this soon? I had left too early in the day! I should have stayed at her side all evening. I had missed the moment when she left this earth. I immediately felt sad and guilty. Chris quickly pushed those thoughts aside.

“There was no way that you could have known. You did just what you were supposed to do this week.”

I began to feel a peace fill me. All I could do was what I had done. Grammy lived a long life and died peacefully in her sleep. She didn’t have to suffer. May we all have a death so sweet!

We called our relatives and asked them if they could drive us back to Harbor House. We wanted to say our final goodbyes. I had never experienced death so closely before. When I entered Grammy’s room, she looked just the same as I had left her, peaceful and snuggled under her blankets. I expected her to open her eyes and see me standing there, yet she was still. I felt that I was standing on holy ground. Jesus himself had just been there to gather Grammy into his loving arms and carry her home. His presence still lingered, and it was so sweet.

I really couldn’t know Grammy’s personal relationship with Jesus, what transpired in the depths of her heart and spirit before she died. But the presence of Jesus in the room gave me the peace that I would see her again in heaven. None of us can make it to heaven on our own. It is the same as trying to get to the moon by jumping our very highest. It doesn’t matter how hard we try or how well we train, we just can’t reach the moon. Jesus lived and died in order to carry us there. He is alive right now, constantly loving us and praying for us that we will trust him to do it. So let’s do less jumping and more trusting. There is nothing to fear and EVERYTHING to look forward to. For those who trust in Him, death is a reward and it is holy.

I Love a Good Birth Story: Part One – Areli Endura

August 12, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

I love hearing about the miraculous journey that brings a new baby into the world. I adore talking with a mother of a newborn to hear her entire story. I enjoy reading about births, and I must have watched about 30 episodes of “A Baby Story” on TV. But 15 years ago, when it was time for me to give birth for the first time, I had none of these inspirational and informational stories under my belt. I was young and rather clueless.

I got married at 20 and had my first baby at 23. The birth of my first child was the first birth I had ever been to. I didn’t have older sisters or close friends who had given birth to talk to, so I didn’t have many stories to draw information from. My husband and I did attend a birthing class while I was pregnant, and I learned a lot. They showed us a video of three births. Wow! Talk about graphic and horrific and wonderful all at the same time. Still, I wasn’t scared to give birth. I figured that women have been giving birth since time began and if they all could do it, I could do it too! Many women have very easy labors, and maybe I would be one of them. Maybe I wouldn’t even feel much pain at all!

I quit my job as a bank teller two weeks before my due date. I spent those two weeks cleaning every inch of the house, taking walks, taking naps, and enjoying some alone time. Finally, I had done everything I could think of to do, and waiting was all that was left as my due date came and went.

Chris and I snuggled on the futon for a three-hour movie that Saturday night. I was getting Braxton Hicks contractions and Chris decided to time them. They came every 20 minutes like clockwork throughout the entire movie. We decided to try to get some sleep since the next day, we might be having baby! I lay down and got comfy in bed, but I just couldn’t sleep. Those contractions kept coming! We headed to the hospital at 3am.

We arrived to find that my doctor was the doctor on call that night. I was thrilled, because I really liked him! He said I was dilated 5 cm (only half way there), and without explaining or asking my permission, he pulled out something like a knitting needle and broke my water. Experience has taught me to keep the bag of waters intact as long as possible. Boy did the contractions become intense after that!

I sat in a rocking chair and just rested with my eyes closed. When a contraction came, I felt like my entire body would cramp up, and I couldn’t relax it. Chris encouraged me to try all the wonderful positions we had learned in birthing class to bring the baby down. All of them made the pain worse! So I resumed my post in the rocking chair as my mother-in-law and a dear friend of the family looked on.

The sun began to rise and the contractions started to come one right on top of another. I never cried out, but sat as still and relaxed as possible, breathing slowly and deeply.

“Do you think you want to push?” asked my mother-in-law?

“I don’t know.” I said. I really didn’t know anything about giving birth or pushing. Now I could tell you that I was in transition and that the baby would be coming soon. But at the time, I had no idea whether it was going to be 5 minutes or 5 hours until I was ready to push.

They called the doctor in and he confirmed that I was completely dilated and could start pushing. He had me lay in the bed and push with every contraction for 1 hour and a half. Most exhausting work I had ever done! With subsequent births I have learned that it is best to wait to bear down until you really feel the urge, rather than start pushing with all your might as soon as your doctor gives you the go ahead. I was unsure what the urge felt like, yet when it comes…whoa baby!!! Heaven and earth couldn’t keep you from recognizing and obeying that powerful force. Using gravity to help the baby descend is another great idea. Standing, swatting, or kneeling are great positions! When that baby is in just the right position, your body and the baby work together in a beautiful dance of spirit, hormones, and love. It is glorious when you don’t even need those red-faced, blood vessel bursting efforts. Without much exertion at all, your baby will slip from you quickly and peacefully. But I am getting ahead of myself and telling a different birth story!

This time I didn’t know any of that, so I was in bed on my back pushing for a very long time. The doctor gave me a local anesthesia and an episiotomy before the baby emerged. Again, he did not explain or ask; he just did it. I would recommend not doing those things and talking about it with your doctor beforehand. The postpartum pain was 10 times worse and the recovery time was 10 times longer than with any of my other 7 births.

But I wasn’t even thinking about any of that at that moment! No pain, no worries…just joy and excitement and bliss!

“It’s a girl!” I heard someone announce at 9:21am on Palm Sunday.

The precious dark-haired princess latched on right away and nursed for the next hour. I was so happy and complete. I was holding my Areli Endura, “Heroic Lioness of God with Endurance.”

My doctor visited me the next day.

“You had a wonderful, natural birth. It was good for the nurses to see that.”

I marveled at his comment. I thought my birth was pretty normal, but perhaps not, if the nurses were not used to witnessing a birth like mine. I have since learned that most births do contain some interventions and medications that often lead to complications and other interventions. As the years went by, I started collecting birth stories from other women and a common thread emerged.

PAIN! Intense pain that would push the woman to submit to any procedure recommended in an effort to escape it. This was a little curious to me. Sure, I had experienced the worse pain I had ever felt in my entire life! Yet I never felt like I couldn’t handle it, and the thought of medication never enter my mind. Why? I just don’t think I experienced the pain that most women do when giving birth. But why, I kept asking myself.

Then I remembered a teaching tape I had listened to before I was ever married. The preacher was talking about the verse in Genesis 3:16 that refers to “multiplied pain” in child-birth. He said that it was a curse and that ALL curses were broken when Jesus became a curse and hung on that tree. I could be free from the curse of multiplied pain in childbirth! I prayed that prayer right then and there in my bedroom 4 years before I ever gave birth.

“Jesus, I thank you that you have taken every curse. In your name I break the curse of multiplied pain in childbirth. I will not believe the reports and stories that say that childbirth has to be excruciatingly painful! I will give birth without multiplied pain!”

And it really did work, all those years later without me even actively thinking about it. And guess what? Jesus died to take every curse from you as well! Pray that prayer, I dare you!

The first step to experiencing a natural birth with very little pain is to believe that it is possible! There are hundreds of factors that come into play to determine the outcome of labor. Many of these factors we have no control over whatsoever. But God is in control of everything, and I am convinced that He meant childbirth to be an honor for a woman to participate in with overflowing joy! Jesus suffered pain so that we would not have to. And the pain that we do experience in pregnancy, labor, and motherhood can always be used by Him to bring forth something beautiful!

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.

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…