Category Archives: Christian

My Words as Weapons: A Reminder

My hand from last year's Shine a Light on Slavery Day

My hand from last year’s Shine a Light on Slavery Day

Tomorrow is the day to join the End It Movement and place a red X on your hand to help create awareness for human trafficking, which is actually modern day slavery.  I don’t have much that is new to say on the subject right now. Actually, just the other day a gentleman from church was talking to me about my blog (I had forgotten that the blog address is part of my email signature and I had sent out an email in regard to an event the church was taking part it and he had linked to it from there) and mentioned that he especially found my posts on human trafficking to be interesting.

This is awesome because it means I’m doing something right!

So I thought back to some of the posts I have made on the subject and I decided perhaps it was time to collect them into one pace and share it in time for Shine a Light on Slavery Day.  If you find any of these to be informative, interesting, or just heartbreaking or maddening enough to want to help, wear a red X on your hand tomorrow and share my post(s).

Awareness is a start.

Here are some of my past human trafficking posts:

To Love… (the fundraiser has long since ended, but the other content still applies)

Let Freedom Ring!

Human Beings are NOT Commodities

Hope Lies in Creating Ripples

All Men are Created Equal…All

Anyone Can Make a Change

Stop it BEFORE it Happens

Stand in the Gap and Fight Injustice

Righteous Anger

How Words Shape our Perspectives

Armed for Battle

The Unnerving Rising Number

Creepy American Tourists

Joining the Fight with Others

Super Bowl Trafficking

Because Sweat is Weakness Leaving the Body…

In exactly a week from right now I should be done with my third and final run in the Ragnar FL Keys 2014 race and my van will be in Key West waiting for our second half to finish.  A month ago I was doubting I’d be able to run in this race, but I went out for my first long run in two months this morning, and I feel awesome.  I still feel like I didn’t get in as much training as I would have liked, but I’m proud not to have given up.

When I couldn’t run, I rode my bike or worked out on the elliptical, which I hate because it’s so boring.  I attempted comeback runs a couple times before I succeeded without crying because of the pain in my leg.  In caring for my leg and combating the pain, I knew it would be hard.  But I’m running again, and sweating out the weakness.

The other part that makes this great is that I have an amazing support team of local runners, and of course, my Ragnarrhea teammates.  Thanks to everyone who has helped encourage me to get back out there.  This Ragnar was supposed to be my most challenging because I was originally going to take on more miles.  But now it’s the most challenging because I’ve had to get my head straight.  Running isn’t just physical, but mental as well.  And I’ve got my mantra now:  “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)

My Christmas Kitchen Frenzy

It’s Christmas Eve and some may expect a simply stated, yet inspiring Christmas post from a writer who also happens to be a Christian.  Well, I’ve done that before.  Check out my Christmastime posts from last year.  I’ll run out of things to say that aren’t cliche.  So I’m going to talk about defying other expectations.

I recently overheard some grumbling about how all the women who do Christmas baking, decorating, and the like are taking women back in our advancements for equality.  What?!

First of all, there are plenty of men out there doing the same thing.  There was a year my husband made both an apple pie and a chocolate pecan pie, because he wanted to, and they were good too.

Second, who cares, as long as they’re enjoying what they’re doing?  I don’t do much out of the ordinary in the kitchen most of the year, but nobody wants to get in my way in the kitchen from Thanksgiving until Christmas.  I can and do cook, and even occasionally bake throughout the year, but not like I do for this glorious month. Most of the time, Robert and I team up in the kitchen, but I just spent three days holed up in the kitchen making candy, cookies, and bread to give as gifts to my close friends, and I loved every minute of it (except when I took a look at my doggies on the other side of the doggie gate- they couldn’t understand why Mommy wouldn’t let them in the room that smelled like Heaven).

My point?  If I am a woman enjoying what I’m doing, how am I setting the movement back for women?  Isn’t it all about equal rights and getting to make choices of what we want to do instead of being told what to do?  It’s not like my husband says, “Woman, get in that kitchen and don’t come out till you’ve made me 12 dozen cookies and a plate of toffee!”  He knows that would earn him an actual kick in the butt, the evil eye, and I’d eat my treats in front of him while not allowing him to have any… and honestly probably a few other punishments I feel I shouldn’t elaborate on since I just mentioned I’m a Christian and they would likely not be very Christ-like (though I could then write a post on forgiveness).  Robert recognizes that it’s my choice; of course, he doesn’t mind reaping the rewards of my Christmas kitchen frenzy, even though I don’t let him eat any until I sort out where all of it is going.

Sometimes what happens in the kitchen is about bonding too.  I found an ugly sweater cookie kit at CVS this year.  I baked the cookies, but Robert and I decorated them together and we had fun doing it. Sometimes moments in the kitchen are bonding times for families, and that’s ok.

ugly sweaters

Women, if you want to spend some time in the kitchen, don’t feel like you’re letting down womankind.  If you want to send your husband to the grocery store to pick up some cookies already made in the bakery, that’s fine too.  Maybe you’d rather just eat healthy snacks like celery with peanut butter for your treats, and that’s creepy, but its still your choice.  Whatever you choose, have a Merry Christmas!

Brandishing, No, Wielding My Sword

Yeah, I like the connotation of wield better than that of brandish.  One is just waving a weapon in a menacing fashion, like a threat.  But the other implies the action of actually using a weapon.

I don’t want to just threaten like a child playing a game.  I want to actually kick some butt!  In this case, human trafficking.  I will draw my sword, advance, and fight, wielding said sword, and draw blood.

Warrior Woman Silhouette

I’m not a girlie girl.  I’ve said that before.  Don’t get me wrong; I’ll watch a chick flick, but I’m not going to spend the extra money to see one in a theater.  Only the most epic tales of courage and awesome special effects warrant taking out the small loan needed to pay for a trip to a movie theater these days. These have always been my favorite stories, where a lone hero, or a small band of friends or warriors takes on something much bigger than themselves, even when it seems impossible.

I’ve said before that we should never stop fighting just because human trafficking is such a daunting and formidable foe, yet that’s what I have done.  Not on purpose.  I didn’t realize I had given up the fight, but looking over my actions over the last few months, I see I have done very little to advance the cause, and

I am ashamed.

I intended to use some of my new found time in researching, promoting, and finding ways I can help. Instead, I read a book, started following some organizations on Twitter, and nothing else.

I am declaring it now.  I am recommitting to the cause, to the helpless victims who are suffering, to the vulnerable who need awareness and prevention.  I am recommitting to JUSTICE.

I’m a quiet person, locked inside myself most often, until I see injustice.  It stirs and moves me, igniting a passionate flame in my heart that burns so deeply I know I cannot contain it.

This is what I’m meant to do.  This is what my warrior’s heart is meant to battle, and it doesn’t matter that I’m smaller than human trafficking, because I plan to spread this fire in my back yard and worldwide.  This is a foe worth fighting.

Proverbs 31:8-9

Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves; ensure justice for those being crushed.

Yes, speak up for the poor and helpless, and see that they get justice.

Word to my Motha!

fruitfulness

When I was growing up my mother would occasionally get “a word from God” for somebody, or a scripture she felt God wanted her to give to one of my sisters.  Stacy, my oldest sister, got Jeremiah 29:11, my favorite scripture in the entire Good Book.

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.

But Mom never had anything for me.

Then, a few months ago she called to let me know she had been reminded of a scripture God showed her when I was born.

John 12:24: I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat is planted in the soil and dies, it remains alone. But its death will produce many new kernels—a plentiful harvest of new lives.

As she revealed this to me, all I could think at first was that dead kernels of wheat did not seem nearly as exciting as God giving me a future and a hope.  What was this supposed to mean?

Of course it came with a story.  I knew I wasn’t exactly a “planned pregnancy”; I’m the youngest, so my parents had planned to stop after my middle sister Lisa.  I also knew my parents had thought I would be a boy, but that’s as much as I knew.  Apparently my mom figured since I was a surprise God must be planning to give her the boy she’d always wanted and she even told people she was having a boy.  In fact, in my parents’ certainty, the name Jason had been chosen.  Then there I was…not. a. boy.

The above scripture had been brought to Mom’s attention around that time and she realized that perhaps her desire of having a boy was the kernel of wheat that had to die in order to give life to something else-me- and I’m pretty awesome, so I guess that worked out after all (I’m really only half kidding).

Also, remember my parents had not even bothered to pick out a girl’s name so when I was born, my mom said the Lord gave her my name, Terri Lynn, and she realized later that Terri actually means “to reap,” or in other words, be fruitful, just like the last part of the scripture (when I was a kid the word reap actually freaked me out, so I went with the other meaning of my name- caring one).  So, for whatever reason, my mom had to let her dream of having a boy die and produce me, the new fruitful kernels.

As my mom told me this I began to wonder how I am fruitful and what this means for me.  Robert and I have not had, nor do we plan to have children because we never felt to urge to do so, so it has to be a more of a symbolic fruitfulness.  I feel this lends itself as support that God is calling me to somehow reach out to others more, and possibly towards my passion of ending human trafficking.  The name Terri is originally derived from Teresa, and that always makes me think of Mother Teresa, a woman used by God to be fruitful, though she obviously had no children of her own either.  I’d be honored to follow in such footsteps.  I ask to be less of me and more of Him.

fruit

Go Ye into All the World

earth-hands

When you want to do world missions, local people tend to get upset.

“Why go other places when we have so much need right here?” they ask, and not often in a friendly manner either.

My simple answer: Because God said so.  Don’t believe me?  Check it out in Mark 16:15.  But seriously, I’m sure most people have heard this scripture before, even if they didn’t give it much thought; yet, words with no action often go ignored.

Honestly though, it’s also because we can do both local and world missions, but some are called more for one than the other.  Needy and hurting people exist worldwide and to all different degrees.  Needs and hurts must be addressed EVERYWHERE.  But if you think about it, not everyone is cut out to go to obscure and dangerous villages in remote locations of Africa or Central or South America, risking gruesome deaths by primitive weapons or debilitating diseases.  Not everyone can endure the frigid climate of the Arctic in order to bring God and hope to those natives who can only be reached by special snow vessels (or ice flow, if you have the time).  Even going to safer regions still often involves risk, adjustment, and facing the unknown.

For those people, there are local missions.  This could be getting involved by building a home with Habitat for Humanity, hosting a clothing or food drive for a local food pantry, or just stopping in next door to visit an elderly widow who lives alone.  Basically, whenever you take a step out of your comfort zone and sacrifice some of your personal time, expecting nothing in return but the satisfaction of knowing you were able to put a smile on someone’s face, you are showing God’s much needed love, and you CAN change the world, just one person at a time.  We all have to start somewhere.

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
Nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”

Dr. Seuss, The Lorax

Making an Example of My Marriage

My marriage is far from perfect, so why would God use it as an encouraging example to others?  Maybe exactly for that reason.  I am certain He is the only reason we managed to remain together, for there were a few times I think one or both of us could have walked away from the whole thing and decided it wasn’t worth the trouble, the hurt, the commitment to another person with his or her own ideas and agendas. But in that dark time when Robert was unemployed and most couples would have allowed that stress to come between them, we recognized it as a time we most needed God in our lives, and we had faced some financial issues not long before that time that nearly ended our marriage and literally left me with my head between my knees just trying to breathe, so it was scary, but not entirely new.

Instead of fretting, we took that time to spend together and learn to put God in the center of our marriage.  We even took the time together to learn each others’ “love languages.”  In each of our top three lies quality time, so we learned that spending time together strengthened our love.  That seems like a “duh” revelation, I know, but people often miss these obvious points.  Just the other day I was organizing part of our office and Robert was working on the computer.  We weren’t really spending time “together” but we were together, and we found ways to involve each other or have snippets of conversation in the middle of our tasks at hand.  The simplicity of it was beautiful and encouraging.  Our time together doesn’t always have to be exciting; it just has to be together and involve one another.  Sometimes it’s the reassurance that we’re there for each other.

After a hike up a mountain (volcano), we had a lovely view of Antigua.

After a hike up a mountain (volcano), we had a lovely view of Antigua.

My mission team has been back from Guatemala for just about six weeks now and when we met on Sunday for a reunion fiesta, much of what I forgot I wanted to share, or I had just needed time to sort out in my brain, resurfaced.  One such topic is my marriage.  It’s strange that a mission trip would bring enlightenment of that area of  my life, but I guess God reveals what He wants us to know in His way, and we had to go all the way to Guatemala for me to see what a blessing my marriage is to others.  I already knew I was happy to be married to Robert, but I had no idea what an example we are to others.

On the trip, Robert and I were actually broken apart from one another for most of the first two work days, and we were fine with that.  We are both able to function without each other quite well.  The hard part was when we remained so busy during the evening that we had no time to reflect together on our days.  By the third day I think we learned to make the time.  We both recognized the importance of time shared with the group, but also being able to share with each other, especially since we both had so much on our minds during this trip.

A huge leaf, shaped like a heart?  Couldn't resist.

A huge leaf, shaped like a heart? Couldn’t resist.

Our interactions must have become evident to the rest of the group because we received compliments from various members on our marriage. We were given a homework assignment to write a little encouraging message to each member of the team, letting them know some positive way they touched the team or the individual.  One such message came from a young lady who lives with her amazing mother but comes from a broken home: “I also am deeply thankful for the example  you and Robert set as a healthy couple who has God present in their relationship.”  I’ve kept this card as a bookmark for my daily reading because it reminds me of how we can be encouraging examples without even realizing it and how important it is to always let God shine through us.

Broken homes are universal.  Where we were able to be an encouragement to this girl from the U.S., we were also able to do the same for the children in Guatemala.  Apparently there is a real need for responsible men to step up in families in the area where we worked.  The burden weighs almost entirely on the women, so our loving interactions together became examples to the local children as well.  I remember that on our last day we went to an orphanage for mostly young ladies who primarily came from abusive homes.  One little girl attached herself to Robert and then later was coloring and playing with stickers with me.  I told her Robert was mi esposo, and she thought that was great  When we were saying goodbye to the kids, the three of us had a group hug.  I’m sure this encounter left her with at least some sense of hope.

One Car Faith

jalopies

Recap.  I left the world of teaching with nothing officially lined up for after.  No big deal since everyone knows teachers don’t get paid much anyway, right?  Except my husband and I were making an equal income, so this cut our money in half.  Yikes!  Now it sounds insane, and it is.

We lived off not much more than that before when Robert went through some time of being unemployed, but we did get to collect unemployment.  Since I happily vacated my job, no unemployment can be acquired.  When we decided I would take this huge step into the void during a time of high unemployment rates, we did it with the faith that somehow it would all work out because we felt this was a needed step.  If I could find part-time work, we’d be fine.

Then we came to a wall, or a decision that needed to be made.  I was taking off the two months I would have had off as a teacher and was going to job search when school started back up because the lump of checks at the end of the year covered the summer anyway.  During this time Robert’s free car that had miraculously run for three years stopped running.  It was probably just the battery, so we could pay to replace that, and other than the gauges on the dash that rarely worked, the lack of A/C in a black car in Florida, and a number of other oddities plaguing the vehicle, we could have had it running.  However, time was coming to renew the car registration and it was another car we had to pay insurance on.  Since the school year had ended we had really only driven my car.  We began to contemplate life with only one car.  The problem at this point was the uncertainty of what I would do for income.  Having only one car might not work if I found a job with hours that conflicted with Robert’s schedule.

Maybe we should never have let the dog drive.

Maybe we should never have let the dog drive.

A conundrum.

We could save quite a bit of money if we just let the car go.  But what if we needed it later?

I would just have to find a way to make money from home or work between Robert’s hours.  It was time for a vehicular pardon of the old Jetta.  In the scary moment when we both realized this, we felt both nervous and liberated.  We would have to exercise one car faith and believe that no matter what, God was in the driver’s seat, to use a bad cliche disguised as a bad pun, and He would provide for us just as He always had.

It hasn’t been long living in this manner yet, but I have managed to find a few sources of income in which the car has not been an issue.  It feels great to have been able to simplify our lives just a little more, running on one car faith.

Resting in the Moment

Very recently I alluded to being in a place now where I am trying to find my “greater purpose,” or my path for the future.  This is why I left teaching.  I felt there was something more for me.  And now I’m not really doing much of anything, which is strange, because I’m always doing something.  I thought the recent mission trip to Guatemala would somehow open my eyes immediately, yet though it was an amazing trip, I may have put too much on that alone, instead of seeing it as part of something.  I’ve been inwardly reflecting on my lack of purpose more lately as I see my former colleagues heading back into the teaching trenches.  I feel they, and many other people in my life, are watching me and expecting that either I will find this “greater purpose” and it will be amazing, or that I will fail and return to teaching.  I still feel I left for the right reasons, which leaves the amazing purpose as my only option.  So why don’t I feel like God has revealed it to me yet?

After I dropped off Robert at work yesterday, this song came on the radio.

And it hit me then.

One thing I need more of in my life is patience.  I think I am on the right path, but in this moment I need to rest.  It’s not that nothing is happening, but I cannot always see that it is and I get frustrated.  So this song is my prayer, that God will give me peace in the moment as I wait.  It will happen in His timing if I continue to wait on Him.  As long as I was teaching I was not ready to move forward. That had to be cut, or pruned, from my life, and it’s still a fresh change, so maybe God is still preparing me.

As I walked back in the door of my home I also remembered a card I had hanging on our refrigerator from Kenneth Copeland Ministries that I had put there when we were struggling through Robert’s unemployment.  The message had been about Resting in the Blessing.  Part of it is written as a message from God and when I read this again it brought me comfort.  I knew there was a reason I always keep these things.

“Come on up here.  Now sit down with Me.  Sit down here on the throne with Me.  Everything is going to be all right.  My angels are at work.  THE BLESSING is working for you.  Just sit down here.  Take your rest.  Take it easy.  Everything is in good shape.  The walls are up.  My power is in operation.  Now just take your rest.”

I leave this as my final prayer

Psalm 25: 4-5 (NIV)Psalm 25:4-5

Show me your ways, Lord,
teach me your paths.
 Guide me in your truth and teach me,
for you are God my Savior,
and my hope is in you all day long.

All Oppression Shall Cease

One of my favorite parts of Christmas is the music.  I’ve been singing as many Christmas songs as I could learn since I was first able to sing, as far as I can remember anyway (between singing Christmas songs and songs from Annie loudly, for all to hear when I was a child, it’s hard to understand why I’m terrified to sing in front of people now).  Though I do actually enjoy many of the more secular songs, like “Frosty the Snowman” and “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” the dearest to me have always been the more traditional songs- the songs about the true origin and meaning of the holiday.  When I was younger, my favorite was always “Silent Night.”  It’s slow, reverent, and beautiful.  However, somehow I had missed for years the most beautiful of all Christmas songs.

Then in the early ’90s, while watching Home Alone, I heard it in the background while Kevin spoke with the “scary neighbor” in the church scene. “O Holy Night,” my favorite Christmas song gives me goosebumps and brings tears to my eyes whenever I hear it done well.  None of those fast-tempo versions can do that though.  It must be sung slowly, and with real feeling.

Intrigued by one of the lesser performed verses of the song (indeed, it is difficult to find versions of the song with this verse), I decided to do some research into the song’s origins.  I found an intriguing piece of literature on the matter, and if you’re also interested, please read.  It’s a bit long, but quite interesting and worth the time.

To make a long story short, for the part of this song’s history most relevant to me, though not originally written for the purpose of abolitionism, the following verse was picked up by an American and used for an anti-slavery message during the Civil War:

“Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother.
And in his name all oppression shall cease.”

Since I find my biggest passion to be fighting modern-day slavery, I guess it’s fitting that this is the dearest of all Christmas songs to me.

I’m sharing a beautiful and reverent version sung by an artist I have only recently heard, Kerrie Roberts. I love that she includes at least most of this often left out verse, and that she keeps the song simple and beautiful. Some modern artists insist on singing crazy vocal runs and just overdoing an already amazing song.