Tag Archives: God’s love

Things I have never regretted

beachCertain events in life, milestones if you will, really cause me to pause and reflect on my life.  The obvious life pondering moments are births, deaths, marriages, and graduations. I endured the most painful of the latter on Friday, but I did survive!  I wouldn’t go so far as to say thrived, but I made it through with the love and prayers of many.

I started thinking in terms of a commencement note to my son (who I can only imagine had the most amazing ceremony in heaven).  The type of advice that one lover of learning would pass on to another.  Rather than a long-winded speech, it came out more like bullet points which I condensed into a list.

To my children – You are about to embark on the next step on your journey through life.  God has given you gifts and talents.  As your mom I have seen you grow and mature, while navigating difficult waters.  As an educator, I have seen you amaze me with the ways you tackle problems and the new and innovative ways you look at world.  I wanted to share with you that educating a person and educating a soul are two extremely different things at times and are symbiotic at others.  I have comprised a list of things that looking back now (hindsight is always ocularly clear) really did matter, and I am glad that I did them.

Twenty-five things, however small some may be, that I have never regretted.

  1. Following Jesus is simply the best decision I could make.  We as humans make this a lot more complicated than needs be.  Get to know him on your terms and follow his example, you will never go wrong.
  2. Sticking with a marriage isn’t easy.  Often it is thankless work, but it IS work that is worthwhile.
  3. Having each of you. Even if I knew then what I know now about your story, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
  4. Finding a career that you love.  I don’t care what anyone says making a difference is better than making money.
  5. Giving all my effort to my education.  I didn’t like every class or teacher, but taking required classes made me a better person by pushing me to see there was more to the world than what I had thought before.  Along with this, ignore people who tell you don’t take that professor because he or she is difficult.  Pick those people every time.  Trust me, it will change your life.
  6. Thanking those teachers who made a difference in my life.  Most of my teachers and professors have passed away, but I will never forget their faces when I went back to personally thank them.  When someone changes your life for the good, take the time to thank them.
  7. Taking care of me.  It took me a lot of years to recognize that I needed to do some things that made me happy to be a better mom to you.
  8. Investing in the people I love.  I disagree with the notion that three words can be overused. The world needs a whole lot more “I love you’s.”
  9. Reading the Bible cover to cover.  There are a lot of approaches to doing this.  Beginning to end worked for me, but whatever method you choose, just do it.  The words on those pages are the closest I have ever found to an instructional booklet for life.
  10.  Serving others.  I like being a worker bee.  Of course, one of you called me a queen bee on occasion, but the truth is serving others has been the key to helping me heal from more than one of life’s hurts.
  11. Learning to live without fear.  Most of my first thirty-five years were spent pleasing others in some form or fashion because I was afraid of letting someone somewhere down.  Once I let that go, I became a much better person.
  12. Loving to learn.  When I turned thirty-six, I decided to tackle a new skill each year.  As you well know most of those new skills resulted in gifts for others, but I have loved seeing the work of my hands bring smiles to many.
  13. Honoring traditions.  Sometimes that may be something small like chocolate chip cookies and homemade cocoa on the first day of snow, but those traditions became the fabric of our family’s story.
  14. Acknowledging the sacrifices made by others. Even despite our worst moments, we have never gone hungry, cold, or homeless.  Many of the freedoms we have are because someone else’s loved one paid the ultimate price.  Never forget freedom isn’t free.
  15. Giving back.  Serving others is closely related to this, but remember all the gifts God has bestowed on us.  Give of your resources (not just your time and energy) to help others.  Don’t let money become an idol, and make purposeful decisions regarding your income, for now and in the future.
  16. Planting a garden.  There is a lot of wisdom in our favorite campfire song.  Tending to the earth (especially on your hands and knees) is a great way to learn about faith, hard work, and God’s creation.  Plus, being able to honestly say that your hard work fed your family is rewarding.
  17. Having a childlike faith. Few things in life will ever compare to sleeping in a tent in the backyard, running through the sprinkler, drinking from the garden hose, dancing in the rain, or making a snow angel.  I don’t care how old you get:  do something that you loved as a kid.  You will be better for it. Also, don’t be afraid to dance with the mop, serenade the fruit (Oh My Darlin’ Clementine), or just let your silly out.  The world is a better place because I do it.
  18. Singing out loud.  Even if you feel you aren’t a good singer, make a joyful noise.  Music will restore your soul when you lose your way.  God can always be found in the music of life.
  19. Fighting to keep your childhood sacred.  We made decisions you didn’t like, simply because we believe childhood is becoming extinct in this country.  For example, you didn’t shrivel up and wither because we went most of your childhood without cable. Someday when you have children, you will hopefully understand our choices.
  20. Laughing at myself.  I will never run out of material as daily, I make mistakes, and the ability to  laugh at yourself is therapeutic.
  21. Forgiving.  This is something that is a lifelong lesson.  Once you begin, it quite literally becomes a habit.  God calls us to do it, but that doesn’t make it easier.  It does however often make you a better you.
  22. Getting rid of stuff.  I cannot think of one piece of clutter in my life that I have regretted giving away.  Don’t fall into the trap of letting your stuff run your life.
  23. Devouring a great book.  As much as I love a good movie, I have never found a movie better than a book – EVER.  Next to knowing Jesus, the second best gift we ever gave you was the love of reading.
  24. Being comfortable in my own skin.  It took a lot of years for me to find my own style (literally and figuratively).  At some point I stopped caring what others thought was beautiful , and I realized the woman looking back in the mirror was it.  I stopped looking at myself through the lens of others expectations, and I realized that God sees all his children as beautiful. Along with this, I have never owned a scale. A number doesn’t define who am I – period.
  25. Enjoying the moment.  Sometimes, the gentle breeze of the wind, the song of the bird, the laughter of a child, the nudge from a dog’s nose, or the tickle of the ocean wave is God’s invitation to slow down.  Take that advice because the cleaning and the to-do list will always be there after the moment passes, but the moment may never come back.

If I thought about it for longer, I am certain there are many more things that could and should be added to the list.  However, knowing when to stop is also something that requires some finesse.  Know I am proud of you all, and I hope that you, too, can add to the legacy of living without regret.

What I want today . . .

Reed70

Last year for my dad’s birthday, we bought tickets to a baseball game for the local boys of summer, Pensacola’s very own – Blue Wahoos.  After a much enjoyed Whataburger and sweet tea (of course) lunch, we headed on down to the stadium – sunscreen in hand.  It was my first Wahoos game at a stadium right on Pensacola Bay.  As we were approaching our section, we noticed two ladies hop up from some seats and two gentlemen in what appeared to be our seats.  After a recheck with the ushers, the ladies that had left and the gentlemen now seated were, in fact, in our seats.  They apologized and moved one section over.  All was great until the ladies (and at this point, I use that term loosely) came back.  One of them announced (well, more like hollered), “You are in OUR seats.”  I politely answered that in fact these were our seats.  I tried to further explain, but was cut off by a woman with her face in mine yelling that she had paid good money for these seats.  I stood up and showed her my tickets as the usher stepped in stopping my mother from bopping her in the head.  The usher showed the two where their husbands were sitting and that they had sat in the wrong section in the first place.  Strangely,  no apologies were uttered.

Sadly, I get her frustration.  She wanted to watch a baseball game on Sunday afternoon, and she was proud of her seats.  I get it.  Did I like being yelled at? Nope.  But in the end, we all got what we came for that day.

Right now, I am feeling a giant passel of wants.  Today, my son, my beloved red-headed boy, should be graduating from high school.  But that isn’t going to happen, because he and three sweet other babes were killed when someone made a choice five years ago.  I knew this day would come, and I am trying to hold it together with the best grace that I can muster.

Here is a current list of my wants –

  • I want to tell everyone that my son is attending Yale. (The university he vowed in 6th grade he would attend.)
  • I want to be going crazy, cleaning and shopping and preparing, for a graduation party.
  • I want my eyes to stop hurting from the tears I have cried this week.
  • I want the pounding in my chest to stop hurting.
  • I want my thoughts to be clear, not insulating me from the pain that is going to come.
  • I want to remind a certain few that I am not apologizing for my emotions. There is and forever will be only one momma to Reed.
  • I want to hug my son today – not just see a gown on a chair where he should be.
  • Lastly and more importantly, I want to tell him just one more time how proud I am of him.

But just like those seats at the stadium, what we want and what we get are often two very different things.  So in the last couple weeks, I have clung – tightly- to the One who has collected each tear of mine in His bottle.   I asked Him to show me where He was in the midst of all of this.  It seems every salinated drop has provided spiritual vision that has opened the eyes to my soul.  In all honesty, my provisions have been great and had I blinked I might have missed:

  • The well wishing to another mom who is doing the crazy planning before I had a chance to feel sorry for myself.
  • The hugs from fellow moms of graduates who have sought me out when I needed them the most.
  • A mailbox flooded with invitations from Reed’s friends for their parties because those tender hearts want us to know we are loved.
  • The mom who held me when I sobbed on the front steps of the church on Sunday.
  • The friend almost a thousand miles away who has texted or called every day – just make sure that I am doing okay.
  • The friends who upon hearing my joke about taking up excessive drinking offered to do so with me – just so they could hear me laugh.
  • A midnight ice cream run with a friend because that can solve most of life’s problems.
  • The mom who gave me a pep talk in the Wal-mart parking lot telling me that each of the graduates who knew Reed well was going to change the world because his presence changed the world.
  • The friends that offered to sit with me at graduation to just to hold my hand and pass me Kleenex.
  • The church that called and asked for me to come and speak this weekend, numbing the empty void of no celebration, but more importantly, reminding me of what He has planned for my life and Reed’s story
  • An e-mail extraordinaire that gave me the strength to get out of bed today.
  • Continuing on in traditions – oh yeah – McDonald’s for breakfast on the last day of school.  We have to go on – even when it hurts.
  • A cell phone battery almost dead before 8:00 am filled with texts of love.

Even though the items on my first list hurt with an ache that I didn’t know was humanly possible, I look at that second list and I can feel God’s touch.  I hear His whisper of love and mercy.  I know that He will be there with His bottle collecting my tears, wiping away each one.  So that one day when I am reunited with Reed and I meet God in person, we are going to walk hand-in-hand to empty that bottle right on into the ocean.

Then I will stand before my Father with hands raised high – praising him for each and every sweet provision, including the chance to be Reed’s momma.   After that, I am going to hug the mess out of my boy!

This song says it all . . .

Surgery No 5

My whole life I have been enamored with poetry as a medium to express my feelings and emotions.  This poem was meant to be healing to me – to convey exactly how I was feeling.  Sadly the hurry up of Sawyer’s surgery brought our family right back to the night of 2/19/08 because we just weren’t prepared.  We have had to work our way out of that fog, and just be together as a family (even in stuff that seems little to others). It doesn’t to us, because it was once again a reminder of how big of a hole we experience every day.  But as you read this all the way through, I hope that you too are reminded of how BIG our God is to fill that hole right on up with His love!  A special thank you to those that see us working on that fog lifting and continue to cheer us on.  Sawyer is doing fabulously and that makes us all feel well again!

Surgery No. 5

We don’t really sleep.

Tossing and turning, fitfully checking the clock to make sure we are up in time.

We quit pretending and get up even before the alarm clocks buzzes.

                                                                                    My child cannot eat so neither will I.

We get ready as best we can (when your suitcase is a small purse and school folder containing your homework).

Deep inside we dream that it wasn’t like this.

We walk through cold, skyway glassed corridors.  We watch as the rest of the world goes on . . . moves forward while we are forced to go back and relive once again the terrible tragedy that befell our family.

We make small talk trying to overcome our nervousness.

We walk – still a part of the city – not yet a part of the world of doctors, surgeries, nurses, and staff.

Eventually, we know we’ve crossed that invisible boundary – not because of any sign that we proclaims we are here. No, we know that smell.  The sterile, clinical smell that tells us we have arrived at our holding spot until they are ready for him.

We know this road. Hurry up and wait.  Wait to be asked the same questions over and over again.  We know it is for his safety, but after a while, it feels like an assault on our honesty, our integrity, our intelligence.

It is almost time to start – which is a polite cue that the Momma has to go now.  We do what we always do.  We pray, but somehow this time it is different.  As we pray, we are reminded of the choice that this young man, my son, has made about his future.

We pray for the usual things peace, guidance, and wisdom for the surgeon, safety during the procedure, healing, and fast recoveries.

But somehow a rush of words come bubbling out . . from the boy soon to be a man and from the momma who loves him with every fiber in her being. 

 

Lord show us how you are going to use this one day for Your Glory when this child grows up to work for you.

Tears freely flow from me as I try to hold it together.  Arms of strength offer comfort from the one who needs the surgery to the one who has to wait and watch and to endure that loss of childhood once again for her son.  What love this child holds!

Alone . . . for what seems like eternity. Alone not because I want to be, but simply because of the urgency that surgery no. 5 required.  Alone because my husband needed to go home and comfort the girls. Alone – because we didn’t really have enough time to ask anyone to be here with us.  Alone because my boy is floors below in a surgical room.

I sit.

I wait.

Over time (lots of time), I grow cold. Why are hospital waiting rooms so cold? Why didn’t I bring a sweatshirt?  This is March in Minnesota after all.

The first pangs of hunger appear.  I am going to hold out.  Maybe this will really go as fast they said it would.

It didn’t.

I wait.

I sit.

Then it starts to take hold of me.  I feel it bubbling up from heart to my head.

I want to run, but I don’t dare leave – he might need me.

I want to hit something – though I have never done that in my life.

I want to scream – but polite people don’t do that in waiting rooms.

I want to stop it – yet it comes anyway like a freight train pounding through my body.

The MAD and all its choking tentacles arrive and begin to strangle me.

Here we are again, back to that horrible February day.  I’M MAD.

Someone else’s actions put us here. I’M MAD.

He’s going to hurt again. I’M MAD.

He will have to give up things he loves. I’M MAD.

Our family will have to adjust once again. I’M MAD.

All the people who tell us that he is perfectly fine, that’s there is nothing wrong with him. I’M MAD.

What gives them the right to judge us?  Are they his doctors? Do they think world renown hospitals do things at my command? I’M MAD.

Emotions

Anger and fury

I wrestle internally.

I fight to beat back the mad.

I do the only thing that makes sense to me.  I pray.

God doesn’t answer in the way I expect. I want peace, but all I get is overwhelming hunger.  A Hunger that cannot wait and forces me to leave my not-so-cozy waiting room corner.

I look at the device that tells you all the things going on the bowels below.

Not even in recovery yet.

I decide I must get something to eat. NOW!

The mad inside me is my marching cadence.

I make swift steps to the cafeteria.

That all-consuming hunger, now doesn’t seem as important as all I think I can keep down is a nibble and a swallow.

Slow down.  I will myself to walk slowly up from the belly of the clinic.  I emerge at one of my favorite spots.  A soothing spot.  A location where some gentle soul speaks to mine with songs filled with melodic notes.  Schubert. Bach. Beethoven. Liszt.  Not today – their music isn’t here today.

What is here instead is familiar. It is comforting. It is soothing. It transports me back to little white churches in Georgia and Alabama.  It wraps me up in all the things that I know to be good and pure and safe.

Definitely safe.  Where mad doesn’t exist. Only love.

Tears begin to stream down on my muffin.

I bobble my juice to wipe my eyes.

The mad starts to seep out of my body as my voice finds a way to express itself.

Unashamedly, I sing even though I don’t think polite people do that in public places.

I know this song.  God has answered – albeit not in the way I expected.

God answered in the words of Chisholm and notes of Runyan.

Great is thy faithfulness.  Great is thy faithfulness. Morning by morning, new mercies I see. (I am seeing the mercies right now, taking away the mad.)  All I have needed Thy hand hath provided.  (You have provided all of this around me to take care of my son).  Great is thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.

I emerge, like the butterfly from the chrysalis.

I am better than I was before.

I flit back, now lighter, to the waiting spot.

I arrive just in time to see him come back to our starting place.

The first smile flashes across his face.  Within moments that snappy sense of humor quips a joke with the nurses.

It’s then that I know that we are going to be okay.

I know for certain because I laugh – God’s healing balm on my soul. 

New mercies I see!

Can God Use the Senseless?

In the moments after learning that my son was killed, I couldn’t imagine how God could ever use something so senseless for His glory.  I couldn’t have been more mistaken.  What unfolded in the wee hours between that dreadful day and the next morning proved me completely wrong.  Ever since that moment, I have watched, awed and amazed, at God’s plan to use my life (and Reed’s story) to bring comfort to others. 

 Prior to this, I was completely content to be a mom and science teacher.  However, God had a much different plan in mind, and it took me over a year to get used to the idea. Aside from my Caringbridge postings,  I was to share our family’s story of God’s faithfulness even in our darkest moments.  Once I was finally convinced of what I was to do, I boldly stepped into a new chapter in my life. 

 Now with the vision of our church and more specifically our pastor, my new venture is coming to Marshall.  For the last year and half, I have been associated with Best Life Ministries as a speaker and writer.  On Saturday, March 10, Best Life Ministries 2012 Fill ‘Er Up Conference is coming to the Marshall Evangelical Free Church.  The goal of the ministry is to bring help, hope and healing to today’s woman. 

 There will be speakers and workshops on various topics including Finding Joy, God’s Plan for Today’s Woman (The Book of Esther), Godly Finances, Parenting and Being Parented, and Marriage.   A catered lunch is also a part of the ticket price.  The day is designed to help women identify what might be draining their lives and provide resources and encouragement to be filled up on God’s goodness instead.  As one of the main session speakers, I share that miraculous event that occurred in the hospital and how God taught me that our family would get through the tragedy of losing my child (and his friends) and the healing of two of our other children. 

 If you have never attended a women’s conference, this will be a perfect beginning as we work hard to keep the price affordable by bringing the conference to the local church.  If you are familiar with women’s conferences, the sweetest comparison that I have seen, from a previous conference attender in Rogers, MN, was that the “Best Life team is like a smaller-scale Women of Faith.” While we are certainly not that famous, I believe we are no less inspirational as the women on the team have many life experiences and they truly care about the lives of other women.

 Getting away is often difficult to do in today’s busy world, but the investment in you will be worth it.  There will be off-site childcare if needed by attendees.  For more information or to inquire about tickets, please contact the Marshall Evangelical Free Church at 507-532-4804. 

 Thank you for being a part of the community of folks that filled my family up and reminded us daily of God’s love for us!  I am continually humbled by how wonderful a place that my family and I share with all of you.

The comfort in the words of a song

For the book contest, please see the February 15 blog.

My sweet pastor often tells of how he does his best thinking in the car. I have never really confessed to him that my most ardent grieving happens in my van as  I  really listen to the words of songs on Christian radio. Sometimes the songs remind me so much of someone or some situation that I have to pull over and simply cry. I am not so self-centered to believe that God gave those folks the lyrics for me, but often, it does feel that way.  Such is what happened one day when I heard the words to Aaron Schust’s My Hope is In You

I love God and I am humbled to know His ways are so much higher than my own.  This time, he knocked it out of the park for this little girl.  The first time I heard this song was shortly after receiving some not so pleasant news from the Mayo Clinic.  Even though many believe that Sawyer is completely healed, the Mayo doctors know differently (and so does our checkbook).  We ran into some complications, and it hit me so hard.

“God, why this? Why now? They told us four years, and now, they are telling me possibly many more. Hasn’t he been through enough?”  If you aren’t sure that God is big enough to take my questions, read Psalms 88.  He didn’t answer right away, but a few more miles down the road, on came My Hope is in You.  “Okay, God, I get it.  Yes, I will wait for you! I won’t be shaken by drought or storm.  And thank you for sending me the peace that passes understanding.”

My second thoughts reminded me when I heard the story of the origin of the song, It is well with my soul.  Horatio Spafford’s faith is one that amazes me, and to think he wrote a song that has timelessly comforted grieving people is a blessing straight from God.

As preparations for the last Reed’s Run begin, we have really wanted to have a theme that won’t be easily forgotten.  A theme that leaves people with the memories of what the event was all about for the four years.  As a family, we chose, “To rise from tragedy, cling to hope.”  Then another one of those van cruising days (of which I have plenty) happened, and again, God gave me this song.  Cue the big light bulb above my head, “How about not only theme words, but a theme song?  And THIS song is it!” 

It defines Team Stevens.  If quit isn’t in our vocabulary, HOPE definitely is!  And one of the goals of Reed’s Run has always been to “Reach Others for Christ”.  Sometimes what a hurting world needs is the knowledge that there is a colossal hand that is reaching out to grab yours before you fall. 

Later that evening after the epiphany moment, I went home and searched for the music video.  What I saw brought my eyes to tears and my knees to reverence of God’s love.  We are not alone.  Others have walked our path through the valley of the shadow of death.  And others too want people to know that only God knows the ending of the story if we just reach out and hold on. 

So even though I am certain that Aaron Schust, the artist, or his videography team know absolutely nothing about Team Stevens, I am equally certain that God does! 

If you would like to see for yourself, you can find the video at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ugD0i5Y3cw8 It is now the official song of the 2012 Reed’s Run.  Personally, I cannot think of a better send-off reminder.

A New Year – What is God saying to me?

I am not a big believer in resolutions.  Oh, I have the resolve to set goals and see them through, but my dislike of resolutions has to do with the push to make drastic changes simply because I got a new calendar.  It seems that since the bus crash I have been earnestly seeking what is God’s plan in all of this (aka my life).  The truth is at that precise moment all my sensibilities, my pride, my thoughts, and my desires were stripped away.  Sure I was a Christian, but I also had a whole lot of MY will inserted in there.  It was at that moment that God laid bare my heart and tenderly and gently picked it up,  cradled and comforted it, put it back together, and helped me to see what the real purpose was of His Son’s death (not to mention the lessons taught to me about the death of my own son) – to show his love for the world.  That may seem like a stretch for some people. But if what I believed to be true in the morning of February 19, 2008 wasn’t true that night, then Jesus’ horrible death was for nothing.  So I choose to believe in Jesus, and in God’s undeniable MESSAGE OF LOVE. 

Resolutions seem to be a reminder of MY plans, and I am not sure that they fit with God’s plan for my life.  Instead I choose to focus on what stirrings God has placed in my heart no matter when they come.  Lately that stirring is for humility, forgiveness, and servanthood. I am learning that in the past, I cared about titles and accomplishments, and now, they don’t seem important.  Now I want to see the world through God’s eyes and through Jesus model of coming to earth to serve.  Yet the only way that I can do that is by staying in His Word and by using my words and knees to talk and pray. 

 I am continuing with my goal for several years of reading the Bible cover to cover.  (Yes, I know that isn’t what most people recommend, but that plan is working undeniably well for me.  In fact, I cried as I told Daniel the other night that I have fallen in love with God’s word.  It IS that inspiring to me.)  I didn’t finish the whole Bible in a year, but I will press on toward the goal.  To kick off the New Year, I thought I would share one of my recent devotions that was paired with my Bible reading in the Book of Luke.  I don’t believe in coincidence; so, this devotion resonated with my soul as to what God has been stirring in me.  I hope by sharing it – you find some stirrings in your heart as well. 

This is based on the selection Luke 14:1-72.  The devotion is an excerpt from A Love Worth Giving by Max Lucado. 

Would you do what Jesus did?  He swapped a spotless castle for a grimy stable.  He exchanged the worship of angels for the company of killers.  He could hold the universe in his palm but gave it up to float in the womb of a maiden. 

If you were God, would you sleep on straw, nurse from a breast, and be clothed in a diaper?  I wouldn’t, but Christ did.

If you knew that only a few would care that you came, would you still come? If you knew that those who you loved would laugh in your face, would you still care?  If you knew that the tongues you made would mock you, the mouths you made would spit at you, the hands you made would crucify you, would you still make them? Christ did.  Would you regard the immobile and invalid more important than yourself? Jesus did.

He humbled himself.  He went from commanding angels to sleeping in the straw.  From holding stars to clutching Mary’s finger.  The palm that held the universe took the nail of a soldier.

Why? Because that’s what love does. It puts the beloved before itself.  Your soul was more important than his earthly life.  Your place in heaven was more important to him than his place in heaven, so he gave up his so you could have yours. 

He loves you that much and because he loves you, you are of prime importance to him. 

Christ stands in contrast to the barnyard.  He points to the sparrow, the most inexpensive bird of his day, and says, “Five sparrows are sold for only two pennies, and God does not forget any of them . . . You are worth much more than many sparrows” (Luke 12:6-7 NCV)

God remembers the small birds of the world.  We remember the eagles.  We make bronze statues of the hawk.  We name our athletic teams after the falcons.  But God notices the sparrows.  He makes time for the children and takes note of the lepers.  He offers the woman in adultery a second chance and the thief on the cross a personal invitation.  Christ is partial to the beat up and done in and urges us to follow suit.  “When you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind” (Luke 14:13 NCV)

Want to love others as God has loved you?  Come thirsty.  Drink deeply of God’s love for you, and ask him to fill your heart with a love worth giving.