I sat there in a room filled with people, my heart pounding.
I was about to share my story of struggling with an eating disorder in college with a few dozen teenagers. I was a mentor to teen moms through Youth for Christ at the time, and I had volunteered to speak that night.
So why was I nervous?
I knew that I was meant to talk about what I’d gone through. Here was a room full of girls, each facing their own challenges, and I wanted them to know they weren’t alone. I wanted them to know that we all go through difficulties, even if our situations are different.
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One of my favorite verses in the Bible is Matthew 6:25-34…
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?
And why do you worry about clothes?
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And He said to them, “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Immediately they left their nets and followed Him. Matthew 4:19-20
“Follow me!” Those words were spoken to our grandson by his other grandma last week, and that’s exactly what he did! He has been walking for several months while holding on for balance; on that day, she placed him on his feet and he followed her down the hall all by himself. We have shouted, “Glory Hallelujah!!” that our little 1 lb. 9oz. preemie has accomplished yet another milestone by God’s grace.
I love the above verse, especially the word “immediately.”
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My seventh grade principal stood before a crowd of wiggly prepubescent boys and girls and in a loud, yet calm voice challenged us to, “Think before you act.” That advice somehow found a way into one of my brain membranes and stuck. It’s something I’m working very hard at teaching my children. Impulse is a deliriously controlling beast. It is fun to act on impulse all of the time, but that’s not how we are called to act. Tell that to the same brain membrane that memorized the words from my seventh grade principal.
I love spontaneity, as do children. It’s simply a part of their makeup.
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“I’m scared you’re going to get hurt again,” my daughter told me a couple nights ago as I was tucking her into bed. Ever since I’d broken my arm and tore my knee at the beginning of the summer, she’s been concerned about me, constantly reminding me to wear my knee brace and walk slowly.
I promised her that I’d do everything I could to make sure I didn’t get hurt again. Then I kissed her on the forehead and started to leave her room.
“Mommy?” she asked before I got to the doorway.
“Yes?”
“Be slow when you do things, okay?”
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Written on
September 13, 2009 by
Amy in
Blog
If you are a parent, there are probably some things your children do that drive you absolutely crazy! I know there are lots of things mine do that sometimes cause me to want to scream. I love them with all my heart, but they sure can frustrate me at times. One of the biggies at our house is ignoring someone when they are speaking to you. This usually only happens when the television is on.
Recently, I had to call my son five times before I had his full attention. He answered me on the third attempt, but still did not fully comprehend what I was instructing him to do until the fifth time.
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Written on
September 2, 2009 by
Gina in
Blog
Maybe you’re like me. Someone who’s been struggling to find God’s will. Someone who’s spent your life on a divine treasure hunt, chasing after God’s will like the elusive Holy Grail, knowing that when you finally take hold of it, all will be well in the universe or at least your life.
But what if God’s will is not something you can find? What if it’s not hidden, but right next to you and all you need to do is move over to give God room to work?
I remember as junior in college sweating over the choice to spend six months on a mission internship to Africa.
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Written on
August 25, 2009 by
Mary in
Blog
“I used to be pretty,” I thought as I caught my reflection in the cafe mirror. Hair that hadn’t been tended since that morning, puffy eyes, the area around my mouth showing the beginning of “parenthesis” (as the drug company ad calls them). I’m trying not to go into this aging process kicking and screaming or visiting plastic surgeons, but I’m not wearing each little line as a badge of honor, either.
I packed up my computer and headed over to the Christian bookstore to pick up a couple of gifts.
I was concentrating on the task at hand when a woman said something as I entered the store.
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