Today at our church we finished up our "Fantastic Four" Sundays of July with guest speaker Dino Rizzo of Healing Place church. Pastor Rizzo is an awesome speaker and both services today were phenomenal. This whole month has been amazing, actually. Serving at Youth America has been both exhausting and rewarding and the month of July has flown by. Tonight something Pastor Rizzo said really resonated in my soul and explained so much of my life lately.
His message was about the importance of "belonging" to a local church. He spoke of the 5 benefits of being totally committed and involved in your church. All of the points were so true and as I took notes on paper I was mentally noting the specific instances of mine and Terry's life where belonging and being committed to the church had bore the fruit of reward Pastor Rizzo spoke of. The final point brought it all home for me. Of course, I can't just tell you the point. I have to share the whole back story.
In May I attended one cousin's high school graduation and family party. At the party one of my aunt's asked me how I was doing. She commented, "You always seem so happy when you post on Facebook, are you really that happy?" I replied, "Of course! I really have a great life." Since that time I have been wondering, "God, why is my life so wonderful?" Not that I am complaining, not at all. But what did I do to deserve such a wonderful life? I know I don't "deserve" it. I am not a good enough person to have such a great life. I have a loving husband and beautiful healthy and happy child. I have friends and family galore who love and care for me. I have a good job that provides for our family and a husband who cares for our child and home and takes care of all that stuff I really don't want to do (like yardwork). I have a church that is beyond compare! I have the opportunity to lead people into worship and have learned how to worship my God more freely than I ever have before. So again I ask, "God! Why Me?! What did I do to deserve this?" This almost guilt has been in the back of my mind for some time now, and tonight I feel as if I have received some kind of answer.
Enter: Dino Rizzo. He said that belonging to a church makes your life "Bigger". Whoa! Hold up! My committment to my church makes my life bigger? THAT is what makes my life so grand? Absolutely! If you feel like your life could use a pick me up, take this advice. Look at your involvement in your church. Honesetly evaluate your level of commitment. Do you show up everytime the doors open? Are you there early to greet? Is there an area (or three) of ministry that you are involved in? Do you answer your phone when your campus Pastor calls, or do you ignore the call because you know they will ask you to do something and you just don't have time for that? I am not criticizing, really I am not. But I am passionate! My church has opened my eyes to the hurting world that is out there. Opened my eyes to the need that is all around me. There is so much more to my life than, me. Shocking, I know! If you want to expand your life, your church involvement is the key.
Terry and I have seen a marked difference for the better in our marital relationship, finances, mental health, and general well-being since coming to Church of the Harvest. Not that you can't get this same benefit from plugging in to any church that is making a difference in the world, but if you don't have a church home, come see us at Church of the Harvest. We have six campuses and they are all welcoming and friendly. If you have a church, throw yourself in full force. Show up! Do what is asked, and more. Challenge God to make your life Bigger. I can guarantee you, when it comes to life - Bigger is BETTER!
7.26.2010
7.19.2010
Birth Story Part 3
We loaded up the car and headed down the driveway to begin our 20 minute journey to the hospital. I was excited and nervous, but I felt great! I didn't feel like anything was wrong with me, but all was not well. Now they were going to induce. I had read so many books on labor and delivery when I was pregnant and being induced was the one thing I knew I did not want. However, I also knew the gravity of the medical situation I was facing and the neccessity for the intervention. I kept focusing on the optimal end result, I go home: a healthy mother with a healthy child. I don't remember our conversation as we drove along. Perhaps I was reitterating to Terry my wishes for labor or maybe we were talking about our soon to be born daughter either way the talk did little to calm me.
Upon arrival at the hospital we parked in the garage and lugged our bags (yes multiple, we didn't know how long we would be there) up the elevator and across the building to the check in location. They settled us in a room, not a birthing suite just a holding room, to stay the night. The plan was to insert the Cervidil and wait, and wait, and (you guessed it) wait - until morning and see what might happen. Not long after getting to the room my parents arrived. I was told to undress and get into the hospital gown and then climb into the bed to be stuck, poked, prodded, and monitored. It was kind of like being the subject of a sick science experiment. Everyone sat around watching as the nurse dug first in one arm and then the other to find a vein for the IV. I didn't realize how swollen I was until I saw how deep they had to dig and still could not find a vein. I was patient and understanding as the nurse searched in my swollen arms with her needle. Then she found a nurse friend to help her continue the great hunt for my veins. As the second nurse tried first one arm and then the other, my patience was wearing thin. It didn't exactly tickle! After the second nurse attempted her second dive in my second arm, I finally insisted they put the IV in the bend of my arm. Not a good place for an IV as it restricts your ability to bend your arm, but I didn't even care. I only wanted to stop being a human pin cushion!
Now, to get down to business. My sister and brother-in-law arrived a little while later and my family sat around the small table in the room looking at their laptops and chatting while watching TV. What did people do before wireless Internet everywhere? They performed one last ultrasound to check the position of the baby - yep head down - she's a good baby! Then began the slow process of induction. At this point I was having no contractions, the time was 9:00pm. There wasn't much to see or do but wait, they would do nothing more for 12 hours. Jen and Kevin went to get dinner and perhaps I ate something - I don't really remember. I was focused on the task. I remember going to the bathroom a lot and having to disconnect and reconnect the monitors. After a little while of waiting and realizing there was much more waiting ahead, Jen and Kevin went to our house to spend the night and my Dad went back home promising to return in the morning. My Mom would NOT be leaving, I didn't mind. She slept on the little couch and Terry curled up in bed with me (love those huge hospital beds) to spend a restless night. Our last night before we saw our baby girl. It wasn't a great night. I went to the bathroom - a lot (did I already say that, well it needed to be said again) and I began to have contractions. It was a long night and when morning came I felt as if I never went to sleep at all.
Upon arrival at the hospital we parked in the garage and lugged our bags (yes multiple, we didn't know how long we would be there) up the elevator and across the building to the check in location. They settled us in a room, not a birthing suite just a holding room, to stay the night. The plan was to insert the Cervidil and wait, and wait, and (you guessed it) wait - until morning and see what might happen. Not long after getting to the room my parents arrived. I was told to undress and get into the hospital gown and then climb into the bed to be stuck, poked, prodded, and monitored. It was kind of like being the subject of a sick science experiment. Everyone sat around watching as the nurse dug first in one arm and then the other to find a vein for the IV. I didn't realize how swollen I was until I saw how deep they had to dig and still could not find a vein. I was patient and understanding as the nurse searched in my swollen arms with her needle. Then she found a nurse friend to help her continue the great hunt for my veins. As the second nurse tried first one arm and then the other, my patience was wearing thin. It didn't exactly tickle! After the second nurse attempted her second dive in my second arm, I finally insisted they put the IV in the bend of my arm. Not a good place for an IV as it restricts your ability to bend your arm, but I didn't even care. I only wanted to stop being a human pin cushion!
Now, to get down to business. My sister and brother-in-law arrived a little while later and my family sat around the small table in the room looking at their laptops and chatting while watching TV. What did people do before wireless Internet everywhere? They performed one last ultrasound to check the position of the baby - yep head down - she's a good baby! Then began the slow process of induction. At this point I was having no contractions, the time was 9:00pm. There wasn't much to see or do but wait, they would do nothing more for 12 hours. Jen and Kevin went to get dinner and perhaps I ate something - I don't really remember. I was focused on the task. I remember going to the bathroom a lot and having to disconnect and reconnect the monitors. After a little while of waiting and realizing there was much more waiting ahead, Jen and Kevin went to our house to spend the night and my Dad went back home promising to return in the morning. My Mom would NOT be leaving, I didn't mind. She slept on the little couch and Terry curled up in bed with me (love those huge hospital beds) to spend a restless night. Our last night before we saw our baby girl. It wasn't a great night. I went to the bathroom - a lot (did I already say that, well it needed to be said again) and I began to have contractions. It was a long night and when morning came I felt as if I never went to sleep at all.
7.02.2010
Liberty and Justice
Last night I found myself in a blah mood. I was bummed for no good reason and I posted so on Facebook. I received a wonderful suggestion from an old friend to do something just for me, and let the other stuff just hang for a bit. So I took her suggestion and picked up a book I started reading last October and began to read. I LOVE to read. However, I don't read as much as I should, especially fiction. I know myself. I get into a book and I can't put it down. And if a book doesn't draw you in, then why are you reading it.
Last night I was reading The Jungle by Upton Sinclair (thanks Angie!). My heart broke for the characters in the story. I couldn't believe I have made it through all these years of schooling and never have read this classic. The story is meant to expose the plight of the working class people in the Chicago Stockyards in the early 20th Century. It follows the life of a Lithuanian family that has come to the United States in hope of a better life. Only to find a life of hard labor and low wages, corruption at every level, and con-men lying in wait to take them for a ride at every turn. As I poured over page after page of one horror after another I couldn't help but think, "I am so glad we have laws to protect us from our employers. I am so happy that this is not how the United States operates any longer." Oh if only that were completely true.
My mind wandered to modern day reality where not only in other countries are people forced into what equates to slave labor and paid unfair wages with no hope of escape, but in our glorious "free" country many people are still working in conditions not unlike those described in the book. Don't believe me? Do your research. Modern slavery is alive and well to the 27 million people worldwide held captive. Read stories of real victims who have suffered unspeakable attrocities, and your heart will break too.
This weekend we celebrate our freedom, but I can't help but think of all those who do not have the great freedom we enjoy. In 2007 Terry and I traveled to Cambodia on a missions trip with our church, Church of the Harvest. There, we had the opportunity to meet almost 20 little girls (ages 5-17) who had been rescued from sex slavery. Those little girls were so beautiful! They danced for us and sang. We prayed for them and then they prayed for us. I don't believe any one of us had a dry eye it was so wonderful to hug and love on them! God showed me His heart that day. I had lived in ignorant bliss to the fact of these types of abuse were going on in the world every day and now my eyes were opened to a reality of it's existence. As Christine Caine said, the story had a face - 20 faces. Small, wide-eyed, beautiful faces of children who had been robbed of a childhood and had their innocence stollen all for profit and lust.
I realize this is not the "Happy 4th of July" post that we most people will be making this weekend, but my mind is weighed down by this knowledge. I cannot sit back and let these things continue. I must work toward helping those who are oppressed.
This is what the Lord says: Be fair-minded and just. Do what is right! Help those who have been robbed; rescue them from their oppressors. Quit your evil deeds! Do not mistreat foreigners, orphans, and widows. Stop murdering the innocent! Jer 22:3 (NLT)
Learn to do good. Seek justice. Help the oppressed. Defend the cause of orphans. Fight for the rights of widows. Isa 1:17 (NLT)I have a dream. I want to be a modern day abolitionist. I want to help rescue those who are held captive. I have plans to accomplish this dream that will unfold with time. Do you want to help? There are many organizations that are working to accomplish this same goal. Check them out! Contribute to help the cause! Next time you say the flag salute - keep in mind the last phrase, ". . . and Liberty and Justice for all!" For ALL not "all Americans" - ALL.
The A21 Campaign
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