Part 2 of "In His Arms"

John's bike after the Crash

Part 2 - "The Battle"

“Help John, Lord. Help me.”

This was my gut prayer as I listened to the Colorado Highway Patrol’s message about John’s accident. The officer didn’t know the extent of the injuries but he knew it was serious. I called the hospital and the trauma surgeon told me that John suffered a traumatic brain injury. He didn’t think it was life threatening, but surgery might be required depending if bleeding on the brain stopped or not.

Following Jesus requires practice. Since I’d practiced leaning on God so many times, calling out to Him was the natural step to take.

After I talked to the trauma surgeon I called Lory and Phil, my sis-in-law and brother. Before making a plan in which Lory would take Noah, she prayed for John and me over the phone. I told Noah and we packed overnight bags and then I did what I’d practiced. I chose to get help from my Christian brothers and sisters. I emailed several prayer warriors and asked them to pray. As I drove the hour to a Colorado Springs hospital, (John’s accident was near there) my sister Karen prayed for me over the phone.

When I arrived at the hospital, Phil was there. Ironically, he’d been driving his motorcycle near Colorado Springs also, separately from John. We went in to see John together. All sorts of wires were connected to him. He was completely asleep, under heavy sedation, due to his extremely high agitation that is often a symptom or result of a traumatic brain injury.

I’ll never forget watching my older brother put his hand on John’s forehead and pray, “Lord this is Your son and this man is a warrior. Help him fight through this battle.”

And a battle it was.

I don’t know why God does what He does. But I believe with all my heart that he is in ultimate control of all. I prayed fervently, desperately for my mother to be healed of lung cancer. God said no. But in his mercy and grace, God would come to heal John. In the meantime, saints across the country battled for my husband in prayer. Our prayer request was passed on to friends and churches. People I’ve never met prayed for John. Fellow soldiers in Christ and good friends came to the hospital, prayed over John and read Scripture.

Encouraged by my fantastic 6 syblings, I walked around John’s hospital bed praying and reading Scripture. Although all I saw was John lying on a bed, unmoving, I knew that unseen forces on both sides were at work.

Without a doubt, I know God heard all those prayers and said Yes. Why He said yes and not no, I’ll never know.

But He did tell me something about two months after it had happened.

Let me tell you first that as a family we have a habit that we pray every time we hear a siren be it an ambulance, police or fire. When Noah was little he would pray “God help the wheels on the fire truck be okay. “ :0)

So two months after John’s accident I was sitting quietly and praying. And God’s voice inside my heart told me that when the ambulance was coming for John, someone saw it and prayed for him. When he was being rushed to the emergency room, someone heard the siren or saw the ambulance and prayed.

Before I ever knew anything had happened, God sent prayer warriors to begin battling for my man. And then the Lord told me that some day in heaven, I will meet those folks.

And just like I would tell someone in the military today, I will thank those prayer warriors for their service to God and my family.

Come back Monday, December 13th, for Part 3 – “Traumatic Brain Injury, Traumatic Heart Injury.”

Part 1 of a 9 part series - "In His Arms"

A picture of Noah and John before Christmas - December 2008

Today I begin a 9 part Series, telling moments from a period of time, December 28th, 2008 to the end of March, 2009. It’s been two years since John skidded on “freeway kitty litter” (the gravel like substance placed on freeways in winter Colorado) hit the guardrail with his motorcycle, flew off and over the guardrail and smashed his head on the cold icy embankment. For a long time I haven’t been able to write about this, but now I feel the freedom. My purpose? To tell a great story and give all the glory to God, who carried us through a difficult, difficult time.

Part 1 - "Oblivious"

When I think back to December 28th, two years ago, the first thought I always have is “Why didn’t I feel something when it happened?”

I’ve heard of twins feeling each other’s pain even when they are apart. I’ve read stories of moms who know when something is wrong with their child, even when they aren’t in the same place. But the moment when John had his accident I felt nothing. I was putting up Christmas decorations at home while Noah played outside with a couple of friends. I had no moment of pause or an inkling that something was up. I was happy and busy with my task.

Then 2 o’clock came. The Broncos/Chargers football game was starting. No John. This is when I started wondering why he wasn’t home. He’d left at 10 a.m. after I urged him to take a ride. “It’s probably the last 50 degree day in a while, honey. Go.” I wanted to have an empty house to take down the decorations. He reluctantly went to his room but came out ready and excited to go, dressed as usual like Neil Armstrong. My husband believes in safety and he wore armored gear, a helmet, special pants and riding boots. Enough to protect him from most any accident. Most. He left me saying he’d be back by the game.

I told him, “Ride like the wind.”

So at 2:05 I hit record on the remote, thinking he would want to see the entirety of the game when he got home. I checked my cell phone. It wasn’t working. I decided to go into our bedroom and check the answering machine, the one we hardly ever listen to and the one we can’t hear unless we are in our bedroom.

One message. I hit play and my life changed in an instant.

My husband had left for a four hour motorcycle ride. He would come home 28 days later.

When Noah was little, occasionally he would bump into something or fall down. Our instinct, as parents, was to go to our son and pick him up and hold him. Maybe even carry him for a while.

In that moment that John went down, in the same moment that I was oblivious to my world changing, God picked up John and Noah and I and began to carry us.

Come back tomorrow for Part 2 - "The Battle"

It's Time to Declare our Independence from Martha Stewart!

(I wrote this a couple of years ago, but I reread it each year and declare my independence each December!)


Martha Stewart is not from this planet!


Well, she’s not. I don’t ever watch Martha Stewart’s TV show. I don’t ever read her magazine. I pretty much ignore her. I mean, why read an alien’s how-to book?

But this time of year, every year, I feel the need to buy her Christmas issue. Something in me, and it ain’t the Christmas Spirit, my friend, possesses me with this insane hope. This fantasy that this year, yes this year, I will transform my simple condo into a holiday spa, complete with Jesus Jingle Bells made from sea shells, ribbon and walnuts to a simple centerpiece made of twine, cranberries, candles, garland and a glue gun.

The fantasy is intricate. I see myself opening my front door greeting guests wearing the dress Rosemary Clooney wore in the final scene of "White Christmas". It is a floor length velvet red dress with white fur trimmings. I look spectacular and seasonal. My teeth are extra white just from the glow of Christmas joy, ready and waiting with a smile that brings good tidings to even the grumpiest of souls. Guests may enter glumly or stressed, but one moment in my Christmas kingdom brings sighs of relief and happiness.

The oohs and aahs begin.

Then questions:

“Oh, Robbie, how did you ever make that?”

“Is that your homemade plum pudding I smell?”

“How did you manage to cut down such a tall and perfectly symmetrical tree?”

The flattery pours forth soon after.

“Robbie, your decorations…well…they aren’t gaudy or too simplistic…they’re exquisite.”

“I have never smelled such a perfect blend of potpourri in my life.”

“Robbie, I need to get saved again right now. Just because of your home.”

Like a reoccurring nightmare, the same scene unfolds in my mind every year.

And every year, the reality is a just a teensy bit different.

I open the door wearing whatever will fit me after the Thanksgiving season. Usually a baggy sweater and pants with an elastic band.

My teeth are accented not by their brightness, but my ever present gap, a gift from dear old Mom. Guests who enter my home glum or stressed are encouraged with “Lighten up. You’re having free food.”

Questions come.

“Robbie, is there any room to put my coat down?”

“Have you tried Resolve Carpet Cleaner?”

“Can you make your dog stop humping my leg?”

And the comments follow:

“Robbie, I love the dollar store, too.”

“Your home makes me grateful to God for mine.”

“I think something is burning.”

Okay, maybe it’s not that bad. But it sure isn’t like the fantasy. So every January as I pack up the decorations and breathe in the peaceful air, sadness and a little depression gets mixed in.

I know why, too. It’s Martha. And all the other Marthas of the world who offer up 5 Ways to make your House smell like a Good Memory and 8 Simple Dessert Recipes and 7 Easy to do Christmas Crafts.

THEY LIE!

Maybe not for everyone. My sister Karen is an exception. Give her a bobby pin, some scrap cloth, a couple of pecans and some dried cherries and she comes up with a three-foot beautiful wreath everyone thinks was bought from Michaels. She is the MacGyver of crafts.

But not me. Give me the same materials and ask me to make something and I will brainstorm for five minutes and then run away screaming.

So, what to do?

This is the year, my friends. This is the year I claim my independence from that part of society that lies to me and tells me I must make my home a holiday retreat in order to enjoy celebrating my Saviour's birth. I am now independent of Martha Stewart, Rachel Ray, (30 minute meals? Yeah, if you have a sous chef in your refrigerator!) Good Housekeeping and all the rest of them that tells me I can do it.

To twist an Obama phrase, “No I Can’t!”

And I am fine with that! I think I can still say Happy Birthday to Jesus without firing up my own manger scene at a ceramic store. I can still give gifts that say I love you without learning to knit in two weeks or creating a fabulous scrapbook in a month (each night staying up until 3 a.m.) I can still entertain my friends and let them know they are special to me. In fact, my party plan this year does not involve homemade centerpieces and three course meals.


My plan? Enjoy the people I love and serve whatever is on sale at King Soopers!

Aaahhh…I feel good.

And may God bless us, everyone.

Top Twelve Reasons to Buy a 2011 Names of God Calendar as a Christmas present:

This photograph, taken by Tonya Vander, is December's photo,

along with the name of God, Jehovah Shammah, the LORD is here!

Top Twelve Reasons to Buy a 2011 Names of God Calendar as a Christmas present:
(I'm avoiding copyright infringement and there are 12 months :0) )

12)  You don't have to face crowded malls - Just click on Pay Pal.

11) A year full of my words - it will be like having me in your house! And I know you want that. :0)

10) You can buy the calendar and then mark your birthday on it, so your friend/family member will see it and buy you something.

9) My birthday is September 10th - you need a place to write that down.

8) Let's face it - no one can remember that many names of God without help.

7) There is a time for every purpose under heaven. You need some place to mark them down.

6) You feel sorry for me.

5) You don't feel sorry me, you just want a good looking calendar.

4) The photography, taken by my friend Tonya Vander, is outstanding!

3) The devotions, written by yours truly, will point your friend/family member to God.

2) This calendar has absolutely nothing to do with TSA screening.

And the number 1 reason for buying a 2011 Names of God calendar:

1) The name of God has power! Even in a calendar!

What an Incredible Little Sermon! Takes 7 minutes but it's worth it!

The story of Jonah from Corinth Baptist Church on Vimeo.

Today is the Day to Give Yourself a Break!

Today is the day to give yourself a break!

You can't do it all.

So do what you can do

and then

Give yourself a break!

You can't please everyone

So please God and yourself

and then

Give yourself a break!

You can't be perfect

No one can. So do the best you can

and then

Give yourself a break!

You can't solve the world's problems,

But you can do your part.

So do it.

And then

Give yourself a break!

You can't save everyone,

But you can introduce them to THE Savior,

So love someone in Jesus' name,

and then

Give yourself a break!



Slow Down

Lately, I've experienced several interruptions to my schedule. Life happens, I know, but it is difficult when you have one plan and that agenda which you believe to be important gets shelved.

Today I experienced yet another interruption to my intentions for the day and the week. It forced me to sit

and do very little. As I sat there I picked up an old journal that was nearby and flipped open to something that I wrote a while back.

It reminded me to slow down. Even stop and relax. It occured to me that the interruptions that have happened lately are probably reminders from God to stop running, slow down and breathe. It is often in those moments that God's love is clear.

The following is what I wrote. I was at a retreat center hanging out with Jesus, sitting on a porch of a cabin named Shalom. Are you rushing? Take a minute. Slow down.

The Porch at Shalom

I'm bundled in a cocoon of warmth

Gazing up through the pine trees' arms.

It too lifts its branches in praise with

The azure blue sky hovering in grace.

It is good to get away and sit on the porch of Shalom.

Colorado forest, blueberry bushes, wild dandelions -

A committee of creativity, whispering Your Majesty.

It's time to watch nature and see Your face.

Just sit and watch on the porch of Shalom.

Restoration, a date with my King,

Time to listen to no one else.

He knows secrets to massaging my soul,

His love soothes the aches. He is the Balm of Gilead.

And He meets me and holds me close

Here on the porch of Shalom.