Monday, March 26, 2012

My Story

Last Sunday, a man from a ministry called International Commission spoke at our church. This ministry takes teams of people from American churches to partner with indigenous churches at locations around the world to do evangelism.  One of the tools that they give each American  is a tract with his or her personal testimony translated onto the front of the tract with the gospel on the inside in both English and the countries' native language. Each team member is trained to share his testimony as well as the gospel using the tract.

As he was speaking, my wheels were turning.  Hmmm. A personal tract....

I help each of the women I disciple to write out their testimony, but honestly, I wonder if they ever really get the chance to share it, at least, in the one page type written form I have them write it in. What if instead, I helped them produce a personal story booklet that would include their testimony in the front and the gospel in the back?  The two parts could be titled "My Story" and "God's Story".

I could think of lots of places where they could leave that with someone...a new neighbor, a hairdresser, a dog-sitter, a flute teacher, the McDonald's or Starbucks employee who serves them every week, a waitress, a bank teller, a band parent, the lady at the gas station convenience store, the dishwasher repairman, the insurance salesman, or just about anyone they have short conversation with.

They could say something like this: "This is my story followed by what I call 'God's story'. I think it's interesting how the two have intersected. Would you take a minute to read it sometime?  I would love your feedback. My email address is on the back..."

I decided to get the ball rolling by working on putting my own testimony into booklet form. Below is a first pass at my story.  And I really would love your feedback! (Next blog, I will share the God story portion of the booklet.)





By most standards, I had a great home growing up. My parents were loving providers. But life still had its challenges. I was a middle child with a very smart older sister who graduated at the top of her class, and a very athletic younger brother who gained a full ride scholarship to Michigan State as a baseball pitcher. I remember craving the approval that I saw my siblings receive and I wondered where I could find it. I went off to college in search of that answer.

One day, at the beginning of my freshman year, I was sitting in my dorm drawing a self-portrait for fun. Someone I hardly knew walked by and commented, “You ought to be an art major!” I impulsively decided that maybe I could find the approval I craved in the arts. As it turned out, I did seem to have a bent for artistic creativity and, occasionally, I found the affirmation I was yearning for. But every new art class put me smack dab in the middle of 30 other students who were vying for the same affirmation and I still had the sense that I just wasn't good enough.

When my professors or fellow students didn’t admire my artwork enough, I began to look for affirmation through a string of relationships. One guy after the other seemed to be telling me he approved…at least until I did something he didn’t approve of.

During the spring of my junior year, a friend, named Jane, invited me to a week-long conference for Christian students held in Dallas, Texas. I hesitated. I was raised in a Christian home with a strong sense of right and wrong and I felt pretty guilty about the way I had been living. I didn’t want a bunch of Christians making me feel worse about myself with their judgmental attitudes. Surely, they wouldn’t approve of me either. But, I decided to go, mostly out of curiosity but also with a small voice in my heart that said perhaps the acceptance I kept chasing just might be found through God.

While at the conference, I began to meet lots of students who seemed totally free to love God and to love me without shame or hesitation. I was immediately drawn to them. And the speakers kept talking about how Jesus was God in the flesh who had come to earth to demonstrate His great love for all people—no matter what they had or hadn’t done in life. I remember feeling wave after wave of warm and unconditional approval from God and from the others who were there in Dallas with me.

On the last night, we were asked to make a commitment to wholeheartedly follow this Jesus wherever He would lead us, saying what He would have us say, doing what He would have us do. Granted, I was swept up in the emotion of the night, but I decided to make that commitment to this God who was holding out His hands in compassionate acceptance of me.



That night’s commitment was tested from day one. I had to go back home and break up with the latest of my temporary boyfriends for starters, but I was beginning to see that God had a different plan for my life. His plan was not based on how I looked or how talented I was or whether I was good enough to gain someone’s approval. His direction for my life flowed from His love and acceptance of me just the way I was. And I made the exciting discovery that it is so much more fulfilling to live to satisfy someone who already approves of me.



I was faced with a choice many years ago at that conference and I chose to follow the God who tells me in no uncertain terms that He values me exactly as I am. And there is so much freedom in knowing that.








Monday, March 5, 2012

Not soon forgetting...

Take a look at this vintage photo! It was taken at a wedding in the 1980's. Carl, me, mom, dad, my sister-in-law Sandie, and my brother, Steve.  Notice anything odd?  How could you not notice.  Steve is, um, tall.

Krisi sent this into awkwardfamilyphotos.com where it was published a few months ago. We all got a good laugh at Steve's expense.  Sometimes I forget how tall Steve is, until I see a photo of him like this.  Today, I am praising God that I have the privilege of referring to him in the present tense. Just last Wednesday, he was seconds and a heartbeat or two from death.

A few days earlier, he had called his doctor concerning what was most likely a bladder infection. Since it was right before the weekend, he was given an antibiotic and told to come in the following Wednesday to get it checked out.  Normally, Wednesdays are Steve's day off and he is home alone doing paperwork.  Instead, after going to the gym to exercise, he drove to his appointment. When he got there, he was ushered into an examination room.  The nurse took his vital signs and left with the usual promise: "The doctor will be right in." She closed the door behind her.

Normally, Steve leaves the door closed. Instead, inexplicably, he got up and opened the door.  And that is the last thing he remembers. In the next moment he suffered a major heart attack. His heart just stopped. And, unless his heart had been restarted in about 90 seconds or less, he would have died.

The nurse heard something in his room (because he had left the door opened) and told the doctor he might want to check on Steve. His doctor found him collapsed on the table and immediately got him on the floor to start CPR.  He called for defibrillator paddles and told the nurse to call 911.  Because of his quick thinking (and the absolute sovereignty of God), the doctor was able to restart Steve's heart and get him to the hospital where they put a stent into his blocked artery.  The next thing Steve remembers is waking up in the recovery room and wondering how he had gotten there!

I didn't even find out about it until he was in the cardiac ICU post-surgery and by that time his prognosis was  good.  Even so, I couldn't help thinking of all the "what if's".  What if...Steve had been driving when it happened, or he had been home alone, or what if he hadn't had a bladder infection?  What if the doctor hadn't come into the room in time, or had a defibrillator or knew how to use it properly...what if Steve wasn't here anymore???

Steve is home now taking a few days off to rest and Sandie is loving being with him.  She said she woke up last night and heard him snoring and thought, "What a beautiful sound!"  (Your perspective on life sure changes when something like this happens, right?) In any case, we are all marveling at the kindness and grace of the Lord.

Psalm 106:7-8 says that the Israelite's "soon forgot His many acts of kindness to them...even so, He saved them..." My prayer for our family is that none of us soon forget!!