The Flood.... well, not THE flood... but, still...

It's really hard to put into words, but this video captures some of the emotion.




I was working the weekend. My kids were with their dad. Saturday morning, right after I finished blow-drying my hair, it started to rain. Not just an every day sort of rain, but a RAIN.

Driving home that night, I noticed that the creek - where my daughter and I were baptized - was running pretty high. I'd heard that there had been some flooding, and wondered if my trip back to work Sunday morning would be detoured.

Sunday stared like any other day. I'd been up late preparing for the upcoming Teacher Appreciation Week celebrations at school, so I headed out yawning to myself. It continued as such until about 8:30.

I got a phone call that sort of change the feel of the day. It was my ex. "We have a foot of water on the lower level..." The water outside was higher, at the level of the door of his SUV. Roads were closed, the power was off, and it was still raining.

By 11:00, the water was waist deep and they were packing bags to catch the next boat out of there. Literally. My daughter road on her daddy's back and my boy on the back of a fireman.

Those were the hardest hours - between "were waiting on a boat" and "we're on dry land". Powerless at its best. Nothing to do but pray, and nothing to say but "oh wow. That sucks!"

I've heard the fridge was floating and when he returned to assess damages, the baby grand piano was upside down. It's hard to remember "it's just stuff", when it's a big portion of your stuff - especially your expensive stuff! But, that it is.

They are safe. The waters are finally receding, and the blessings are beginning to pour forth. Community in action. Serving one another.

"God is at work" said one of my friends as I shared about the ministry I was seeing touch the lives of those I know who have lost much or most of what they possess.

"God is always at work", I replied, "I'm just grateful that people are hearing the cry to act and willing to be vulnerable to receive it."

Be with us, God, as we sort through, clean up and rebuild all that has been covered in water and mud.

The Lord is My Shepherd, I Shall Not Want....

There is a man at church who has something of a "cell phone ministry" - for me anyhow. It all started back when he would set my cell phone alarm for random early morning times, say like 4:30.

How does he get my phone, you ask? Well, I leave it in the foyer, until the members of the deaf ministry team arrive in case someone texts me to say they're not able to be there. Probably divine intervention that it won't pick up in the sanctuary...

One week, was different. There was no alarm set. I then noticed the "banner" inside had been changed. Where my "Thus Far" had been, was a verse.

Week after week, verse after verse. If nothing else, it got me into my bible. But, many weeks, the verse was dead on. This week is no exception.

For anyone who follows my blog, or has befriended me on Facebook, it's pretty clear that life has been less than smooth sailing recently, which is OK (check in tomorrow for more details there...). I've been through a storm or two and know that there is always healing on the other side.

This week at church was especially powerful for me. Some weeks are more so than others. Typically, I feel it most while I am interpreting music - or watching my friends interpret the same. God has always spoken to me through music, and when I am singing and signing, it is all the more so.

I felt the tears welling during rehearsal, and watched them spill during worship. I'd composed myself by the time we left. I hugged my church family and wished them Merry Christmas.

On my way out the door, I picked up my phone and casually glanced at the banner inside. Sure enough, the 2 Kings verse had been replaced. "Psalm 23" was now in it's place.

I nodded and kept walking. In my car, I fastened my seat belt and headed the mile home. At the bottom of the hill, before turning onto the main road, it hit me.

Psalm 23. "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want...", I said aloud. My eyes filled with tears as I continued home.

My heart and my cup runneth over, and I am reminded again and again of how truly blessed I am.

Enjoy the song....

23:1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
3 He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.

4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
forever.

Message Ministry?

It's interesting how things develop.... especially when * I * don't do it... intentionally, anyways...

I didn't realize what WAS happening until the other day when I was discussing feeling like I was 'dodging arrows' with a friend of mine.

"Of course you are!" she said, "your friend was meant to feel like she was all alone, and you ruined that plan when you came up beside her and loved her". And when I thought about it. I had.

It started about a week ago - my friend was having a really hard day. I sent her a text message letting her know that I was thinking of her, praying for her, and that she was loved. And then, the next day..., I did the same thing. And the next.... Every day, as I sat and lifted her up in prayer, I sent her a text. In a nutshell - "I'm here. I love you. I'm not going away."

A few days later, another friend of mine left for a mission trip in Panama City Beach, Florida. It's called Beach Reach. Sounds like a dream, huh? A week of witnessing in sunny Florida. But, uhm, not so much... apparently, the college kids there for much spring break partying, aren't so interested in hearing what they have to say. It's been described as "dark" and "really hard". So... I texted her. Just to let her know I was thinking about her and praying for her. You are not alone in this. I am with you (in spirit). I love you.

Then, another friend... sick. I've sent her messages day to day, let her know I'm thinking of her and hoping she's feeling better. (yes, she is.)

And, you KNOW there was yet another - "Hold tight to God..." I sent.

It's taken just a minute of my time, but, it's been time well-spent. I truly believe in the power of words. I believe in the power of reaching out past our selves. I believe in telling those that I love that I do, and I believe in expressing gratitude. As often as I can.

"Thank you" and "I love you". Five little words. In the texting world, a total of nine and ten characters respectively. But they are a powerful combination of letters! I do believe they contain great healing.

"I'm here"
"You're not alone"
"I love you"
"I appreciate you"
"I'm glad you're my friend" (or "my boy" or "my girl")
"You are special to me"
"Awesome!"

It only takes a second....


Take a second...

The Filter...

I hesitate to write this post.... I don't want it to be mis-interpreted.... but I do want to express this experience. It is fascinating to me... and I am grateful for it...

It happens when I listen to music. It happens when I read - a book, or the bible. It happens when I talk with people. The Filter pops up and I hear, or I see exactly what I need to... the rest... background noise. It's like some days, the words just pop off the page or out of the radio. I wonder why I've never heard or read THOSE words before... hmmm... they're SO perfect for what's going on. "Gosh, do the DJ's know that the last 3 songs they played all say the same thing about surrender?" How does that person know that the previous two people I ran into said the SAME THING?? It's interesting....

And then, it happens when I interpret. I am most aware of it when I am "on" with my interpreting...which means I'm letting go of control of my hands, and praying the right stuff comes out! Sometimes, when The Filter is "right there" it totally freaks me out.

Let me preface by saying, I love what my pastor has to say, and I love his transparency, his personal honesty. I love the way he talks about his love for his children and his wife, and his walk with God. I love how his messages are relevant to my life, and firmly planted in biblical principles.

The first time it happened, it struck me by surprise. There I am, standing on stage - listening for his words, so I can figure out the concept for my hands to relay. All of a sudden, I'm having a Charlie Brown experience.

I hear "waa-waa-waa-waa focus life Jesus." I think to myself, "I know I'm tired, but...." My pastor continues.... "waa-waa-waa-waa focus world continue struggle. focus Jesus experience peace...." I KNOW without a shadow of a doubt, that is NOT what he is saying - I know he is speaking English. I am SURE he is speaking English, but I'm hearing ASL.

It is especially interesting to me because he has a propensity to be a bit of a sesquipedalian* teacher. Yet, none of what I heard, nor came off of my hands was difficult. I heard it. I signed it. As I become more and more cognizant of the process, it fades. It's all English again. My brain screams "WAIT! Come back.... I don't know how to say THAT in ASL...." But, it's gone. I'm having to think again.

I love the moments when it feels like God is whispering in my ear - telling me exactly what I need to know, exactly when I need to know it. As a mom, as a nurse, as an interpreter, as a child of God...

Be near oh God... whisper.... let me hear.


*Sesquipedalian
n.
A long word.
adj.
1. Given to or characterized by the use of long word,
2. Long and ponderous; polysyllabic.

The Presence of God...

I recently got to experience the expression "The presence of God won't take you, where the Grace of God won't keep you...."

It was Sunday morning. I was at the rehearsal with the band before the service. My kids were technologically entertained with a DS and an ipod. The presence of God was all around - I could feel it the moment I set foot on the stage. I could see it on the face of the pastor's daughter as she danced and clapped her hands to the music.

As we rehearsed, each of the songs touched my heart, more and more deeply. We started with "Your Grace is enough...." My hands made the signs for "grace" and "enough" and "satisfy", as I considered that - His grace IS enough...and yet, I have been blessed with so much more... the "stuff", the friendships, my children, other children... blessed, I tell you! Beyond my wildest imaginings!

We moved into the next set - "Blessed be Your name" led. As I signed of the "land that is plentiful" and the "walk through the wilderness", I pictured both in my life. Those moments when everything was 'right' in the world, and my most difficult struggles. As I walked through each, He has been there. Over time, I am learning to praise Him in the midst of both.

That thought segued right into the next song "oh, oh, You never let go...". But it wasn't that line that captured me. It was the 23rd Psalm part - "I will fear no evil, for my God is with me. And if my God is with me, whom then shall I fear?" No one - which is what I signed as the question repeated: "people influence fear, who? none!"

The forth song, was an invitation for God to be near. Over and over, I signed "Be near, oh God...", which ended in "Another Hallelujah". For some reason, that song seems to stay on my hands. There aren't that many words, and most of them are "Hallelujah!" - a killer for the shoulders, but wonderful for the heart.

It was a wonderful, wonderful time with God - all before the congregation arrived.

It was during the service itself, that I witnessed the grace of God keeping me in a very, very different way.

As I stood up front, interpreting the music, He held my tongue and moved my hands as I struggled with the overwhelming urge to tell my son - who was chattering away (loudly enough for me to hear him) - to "SHUT UP!"

Fortunately, my internal stress had diminished following the prayer, and I was able to speak with him rationally - and not screaming from the stage!

Thank you God for Your constant hand on my shoulder....

Moments of Gratitude: Honest Conversation

I am continually amazed at how God works in my life. How people show up just when I need them to, or bring up something that they need to talk through...and happen to invite me to the task of listening and responding.

With those people the rules for conversing include:

"I will speak the truth, even though you may not want to hear it"
"I will speak lovingly"
"I will hold up mirrors and help you see what you are projecting to the world"
"I will ask questions and challenge you to work through it"
"I will not betray your trust"
"I will laugh with you, but not at you"
"I will hold the space and honor your pain and your sorrow".

With these people, I can discuss freely, and know that I will hear honestly what they see in a situation where I may be blinded. Following such a conversation, I realize again and again, what a true gift of friendship and of love honest conversation is.

Often, in the midst of such a conversation - one where I am holding mirrors, providing feedback and helping to 'process' - I am reminded of something that I need to hear. Ironically enough, out of my own mouth.

In helping and loving another, I am helped and loved in return.

Thank you God for honest conversation.

.... in the words of a song.

People say they admire me for being able to stand up and interpret the music at church. I remind them that "all I am is willing". What happens up there is all God. "You're so brave to stand in front of all those people", they say. "What people?"I ask. I know she means the congregation, but most times, standing up there, in that anointed spot, there are no people - it is just God and me.

Now, sure, yes, I do put in effort. I collect the music ahead of time, and translate and review it with my mentor, my "teacher". I do listen to the music (again and again) until it is in my body, and the signs on my hands. Some week I am more prepared than others...

... and some weeks I am more prepared for the response than others. Invariably, there is a song, or a phrase that "gets me". Brings me to my knees - sometimes literally. Almost always, there is one that moves me to tears. It touches my heart (or convicts me!) in such a profound way. I am overwhelmed by the feelings that accompany the phrase: "Let mercy fall on me". I can feel it - and it does - as the sign "mercy" comes toward me again and again. The same with Grace, pouring down upon me. And Love. And "God-connect". Truly powerful images to be a part of.

God has always "stalked" me through music. This is no exception. The difference with interpreting is, I am participating with the entirety of my body... not just my ears or my voice. I "praise", I "surrender", I "cry out" and I "control-disconnect" whole-heartedly. It also makes me think twice about picking back up something I've "laid at His feet".

And then, there is the aftermath. The days following a worship service I've participated in interpreting. Something happens. I am changed by it. I can't stand up before God and everyone, whole-heartedly sign, "Oh, come, my God, and break me..." and not expect SOMETHING to happen. It is prayer. It is worship. It is exciting and it is very, very scary.

It helps me to trust. It allows me to become willing when that's not my first instinct. It gives me an opportunity to be "bold" in my faith.

I consider myself very, very blessed to be a part of it.

Supper Club ... Ministry in Action!!

I've you're not part of a "supper club", I HIGHLY recommend creating one! If you don't know what I'm talking about, sit down, I'll explain.

Supper club is the most wonderful thing on earth for a busy mom who wants to feed her family healthy food at suppertime. Our group consists of four women. Each of us picks one day to cook for everyone. My day is Tuesday.

On Tuesdays, I cook for my family and the three other families - a main dish and a side, serving at least 4 people. I pack the food into a plastic grocery bag and deliver it to their homes. Well, now that may sound like a pain - but don't judge yet! Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays, meals show up at MY house (Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays - leftovers!).

I was the last to join our group - I resisted for a long time... we are eclectic eaters, our schedule is crazy and oh yeah... I don't cook. (At least I thought I didn't!). One day, out tending the earth - mowing the grass, if you must know - one of the women stopped by my house on her way to deliver supper to my neighbor. As she walked up to me, I thought, "why am I NOT doing this?" When she was within earshot, I cried out "I WANT TO JOIN!!"

The next week, sitting with my meal - prepared with love by my friend - I thought... THIS is living in community.... THIS is how we care for one another.... THIS is ministry in action.

Oh..... hey... we carpool too!