Lana Blogs

If My People…

Lana — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 23:33:49 +0000

“If My people who are called by My Name will humble themselves and pray and seek My face, then will I hear from heaven and heal their land…”

This quote from Scripture has been turning over in my mind and heart as we have seen our new President installed. No matter who we voted for or what our political views may be we do have a responsibility to humble ourselves, to pray and to seek God’s face for our nation, our land.

I am NOT one of those that believes the change in parties means all Christian views will be ignored and trampled. I DO believe that lack of prayer at any time in our nation results in us settling for less than all God intended us to have.

American arrogance isn’t limited to those in authority….we see it all around us. A little humility goes a really long way in governments, in friendships, in communities, and in churches.

I count it a privilege to pray for our President. I have seen God answer prayers and I have seen Him answer “no” when it was best - that is still an answer from Him. Even when He is quiet and I don’t feel I hear Him or see any “results” to prayer I am confident He IS answering.

Maybe the most important word in this verse of Scripture is the first word…if….He really does let us choose!

Happy Birthday, Son!

Lana — Fri, 19 Dec 2008 17:53:11 +0000

Yes, Jesus, God’s only Son, is the reason for the Christmas season, but we also celebrate the birth of our first child, a son, 36 years ago today…so Happy Birthday, Scott!

Scott was a miracle child too. We were thrilled on a Friday in 1972 to learn we were pregnant, but by Monday I was bleeding and it wouldn’t stop. Doctors put me on high powered meds and sent me home to have a miscarriage. Well, I didn’t. But I did stay in bed for months. Then the Doctor told us that they had given me such powerful medications we should terminate and that in the event I went full term the baby would be abnormal, have birth defects and we should be checking facilities to place the baby in at birth.

We are praying people and come from a long line of faith-filled intercessors and thousands of people had been praying for us already and for our unborn child. We refused to terminate the pregnancy and knew that
God would help to us provide all the care our child would need at home with us.

Tuesday, December 19, 1972, I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy, ten-fingers, ten-toes, blue-eyed perfect baby boy! The Doctors handed him to Ron and said, “Preacher, here is your miracle! Your God and prayer get the credit for this one!”

Scott’s middle name is a family name, Christenberry, which was originally spelled “Christenbury.” Yes, it does mean “buried in Christ.” Because we believe in the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ we knew it was a fitting name for a child pronounced dead before he was even born!

He now has a beautiful wife and family, two daughters and a son of their own. Christmas is a special birthday celebration month for all of us. We’ll have a birthday cake for Scott and one for Jesus and love singing, “Happy Birthday, Jesus!”

You’ve got to say what you heard so you can see what you said!”

Lana — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 00:00:33 +0000

Thanksgiving 1996 was the fulfillment of a life long desire of my heart…I was in Durbin, South Africa, with a multiracial, multicultural missions team and we were ministering in a different location almost every night for over two weeks in parts of South Africa and Zimbabwe. I have been an intercessor for the continent of Africa since my childhood and remember very clearly a promise God made to me even then. The promise was that one day I would be an eye-witness to what He was doing in Africa. I often told people I had an Africa-shaped hole in my heart. In my early teens I wondered if His promise to me would take the form of life long resident missionary work on the continent, but by college I knew that my assignment was as a life long intercessor and financial supporter of Africa missions.

I enjoyed other opportunities for short term missions in other locations during our ministry lives and always wondered if I would actually set foot in Africa. Well, fast forward many years and let me share with you the amazing dream-come-true God had for me. As my husband served as senior pastor for a church in West Virginia he and I became a part of a group of leaders with Bishop Joseph Garlington and his wonderful wife, Barbara, as its founder and head. Ron and I had gone to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in February for a leaders meeting and again in the spring. During a message he was preaching Bishop Garlington declared emphatically, “You’ve got to say what you’ve heard so you can see what you’ve said!” He challenged us to recall hopes and dreams, even those from our childhood that we had yet to see fulfilled. His exhortation to us was to take any of those hopes and dreams and begin to tell others what God had promised us in faith for the day when we would see their fulfillment.

At this gathering I also learned of an invitation being extended to us to be a part of a short term missions team going to South Africa in November of 1996. Each one would be entirely responsible for their own travel, accomodations, and meal expenses. At this point the trip was just six months away. My, how I longed to go with the team to Africa! I seized the challenge given and I began to tell anyone who would listen, “When I was a child God promised me I would one day be an eye witness to His work in Africa and I believe I will be going!”

We were involved in a church planting effort and I was employed by the university full time. Everyone at work, everyone in our neighborhood, all my out of town family and friends heard from me, “when I was a child God promised me I would be an eye witness of His work in Africa and I believe I will be going!” Yes, also told the check out clerks at the grocery store and anyone in line waiting with me at Walmart.

My Daddy always said, “God helps those who help themselves. You do your part and He will do His.” So I set out to do what I knew to do in the natural and believed God to do the supernatural. I had garage sales; I babysat on weekends; I took in ironing; I cooked and sold meals and desserts and I wrote letters to my extended family and friends and ask for their financial support. All the money I needed I earned or was given and I met the deadlines for payments to secure my place on the team! Then I really got excited and knew my promise from my Father in Heaven was something I would see with my own eyes!

You know the results…I saw with my own eyes God’s miraculous work on the continent of Africa! I met indigenous pastors in their 30’s who told me they were believers and were schooled in ministry through donations of ministries I had supported since childhood.

I loved telling the Africans I met who were 40 years old or younger that I had been praying for them since before they were born. You see, God’s promise to me included a desire to see Him raise up a large generation of indigenous people who were called and set apart for Kingdom work. Until 1996 I had guessed that I would have to wait and meet some of them when we all got to heaven! There are no words to describe the experience of seeing what I had said that God had promised me come to pass.

Our team leader, Dr. John Stanko, was an encourager, a coach and a cheerleader for me in my walk of faith for the trip. When I asked him how he had come to put this trip together he told me about his first experience on a team and how he had promised the Lord that if He would help him John would see to it that any who wanted would get to share the experience.

Who knew all those years ago when I was a child that God was orchestrating lives and bringing them to this divine intersection where we were go on this trip together?

Since that time I have made seven trips to South Africa and we lived there for most of 2001 and early 2002. While resident there it was my great joy to tell all my African friends my delight to be an African American!!

Yes, many African lives have been affected by these trips but none so much as mine for I no longer have an empty Africa-shaped hole in my heart but one filled with the divine fulfillment of God’s promise to me!

Thanksgiving is an American celebration but to me it will always be a landmark of the promise, “You’ve got to say what you heard so you can see what you said!”

“I did it!”

Lana — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 13:19:04 +0000

“I did it!” he exclaimed as proud of himself as a young boy who has learned to ride a bike. My husband, Ron, is a wordsmith, a Sudoku champion, a Scrabble champion, a chess champion….you get the idea. Something he is not - and he says so himself - is a handyman. This man who could argue before the Supreme Court, who has the oratory skills to help him win a scholarship to college, who has preached before thousands on several continents……is a huge nerd! Yes, I said it! With all the love and respect in the world for him I say again, he is a nerd. Hang a picture perfectly straight and in place? Don’t ask him. Fix broken plumbing? Don’t ask him. Replace batteries, bulbs, spark plugs? Don’t ask him.

He recently took on a task that he knew would really put his reputation on the line. As pastor of a young church we have several “Mr. Fix-It” jobs needing to be done at our meeting building. Everyone has served long and hard and yet no one had the time to complete a “wall” job. Yes, taping and mudding and painting, putting up baseboard and trim work… you get the idea. Well, he purposed to do the job. Did his prep work. Did some studying. And worked really hard for a few days and yes, that is when he came home and proudly declared, “I did it!”

Sunday morning arrived and he waited patiently as church family arrived and - yes, look! The wall is up! The wall is taped, mudded, sanded, cleaned, painted……”Who did it?,” they asked. “Well, that would be me,” Pastor Ron said. He grinned from ear to ear as men in the church who do construction and are REAL handymen inspected the job and proclaimed how they couldn’t believe he had never done it before! It was a really great job!

As I stood by, listening, and watching I saw that look on my husband’s face. You know, the one they must have had the day they conquered riding the bike without training wheels, without Dad holding on, but all by theirself? I was so proud of him and blessed that he overcame his fear of failure and ridicule to tackle a job he could easily have asked someone else to do.

We never outgrow the excitement of learning something new or our need for affirmation and encouragement. I plan today to look for ways to encourage everyone I spend time with, by phone or in person. I want to help make that grin appear on lots of faces! How about you?

“I wish you enough…”

Lana — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 15:07:16 +0000

I recently read about a mother and daughter who always said “I wish you enough!” as they said their good-byes to one another. When asked what does that mean the Mom responded with a smile…

That’s a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents use to say it to everyone. They always said:

“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.

I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.

I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.”

It seems to me that is a great family tradition! I like the quote “I wish you enough!”

I haven’t been able to find the original source for this so if you know, please send it to me.”

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!

Bryan — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 20:56:27 +0000

The quote of the month is

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!”

Rebekah is our daughter and her Dad is a published author. I just wanted to share with my blog readers a great essay she wrote. Thanks for your patience with a very proud Mama!

“I Am Going To Be A Doctor”

I was recently cleaning out a closet and came across an old penmanship notebook from the second grade. How cute, I thought, and sat down to reminisce. It turned out that this trip down memory lane was a rough one. My handwriting scores were awful! I was getting C’s and D’s and all kinds of comments from the teacher like, “Slow down!”, Use your margins.”, and even “This is unacceptable!” I have struggled with ugly handwriting my whole life. Only recently have I come to believe that perhaps my bad handwriting has always been a part of my destiny.
I remember doing writing exercises in kindergarten. I would try so hard, but whenever I picked up a pencil my hands seemed to have a mind of their own. My teacher would look over my shoulder and say, “Now Wendy, don’t round off your W’s. They should be straight and sharp.” Try as I might, my W’s were always round, and so were my M’s. My J’s were too fat. My I’s and L’s all looked the same, and that cursive Z? Forget about it. My bad handwriting was an entity out of my control. No matter how I visualized what I wanted to write, it would come out garish, inflated and sloppy. Nothing like my mother’s perfect hand. Her penmanship was always dainty and lady like; everything mine was not.
At some point in my early years I became aware of my father’s awful handwriting. To my great relief it occurred to me that maybe it was genetic! My father’s penmanship was actually worse than mine. He called it chicken scratch, but I don’t know any chicken that could read anything that man wrote. It looked like angry hieroglyphics: way off the lines, no respect for margins, jagged and slurred. Whenever I would comment on it he would always reply, “Before I felt called to become a minister, I was headed for medical school. That’s why I have handwriting like a doctor’s.” (I have never gotten over the fact that he chose to become a penniless preacher instead of a doctor, but that’s another story.) My father’s comments about doctors having messy handwriting allowed me to believe that perhaps my illegible script was merely a symptom of my superior intellect. Maybe my dad wasn’t a doctor, but he was a very, very smart preacher. For some time, I was able to brush off all of the comments I would hear any time I handed over something I had written by hand. I felt like maybe my sloppy handwriting meant I was set apart. There were bigger things in store for me than just pretty handwriting.
This self-deception that I wrote poorly because I was so smart has been called in to question in my adult years. On the occasion that I send someone a card for a birthday or a baby shower, I look over my note and think A five year old with a crayon could do a better job. I find it hard to be taken seriously as an adult who still has not mastered writing in cursive, or even print for that matter. Recently I wrote a very heartfelt, open and honest letter to my boyfriend. I toiled over not only the content, but my handwriting as well. I went slowly. I talked myself down saying, “Slow down Wendy, use your margins, stay on the lines, You Can Do It!” I mailed it to him so that he would be particularly surprised seeing as how we see each other every day. One day after work he said to me, “I got your letter today.” I smiled in anticipation, wondering what he thought of all of the heartfelt things I wrote. “Your handwriting is terrible,” he said. That was the moment that I finally admitted to myself that my handwriting was terrible, and it was never going to change.
So, here I am back in school struggling once again to read my own notes from various classes. I am schlepping my way through English Comp. to enter the nursing program here at NWACC. Sometimes I wonder how much of that has to do with my penmanship. Maybe somewhere in my mind I made the decision to enter the field of health professional so that my messy handwriting will finally get some respect. That’s the plan so far. First I will get my RN, then a Masters then yes, one day, a PhD. So for now when people comment on how poorly I write, I hold my head high and respond, “I am going to be a doctor.”

Computer Brain Fried!

Lana — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 15:16:54 +0000

Don’t you just love it when you have SO MUCH you want to do at your computer and it goes bonkers and three attempts to get it fixed do not work! The last week of May we had some strong weather come through and the speculation is that our surge protector failed to protect! I really had not realized how much I used my computer until now when I have gone a month without it! I’m writing this at Ron’s (my wonderful husband) laptop while he is not needing it….ha!ha!….he has a port attached to his wrist which NEVER gets unplugged from the computer which is now directly linked to his brain “Borg” style. (Yes, he is a Trekkie and thinks the Borgs are the way to go - part human, part computer.)

So, here are some amazing JUNE events…

June 1st we celebrated our 39th Wedding Anniversary! In counseling many couples and in marriage seminars we always tell people “We have NEVER considered divorce…murder, yes, but never divorce!” There is such a deep abiding joy in faithfulness during good time and bad - you know, the “for better or for worse” part of the vows? And truly the best wine of marriage is saved for these last years of life! Thank you, Sweetheart, for these awesome 39 years together and many more to come!

June 8th I hosted a “Cookies and Punch Tea Party” in our home for several dear ladies who are sweet friends of mine. We laughed together, cried together, enjoyed the refreshments and drew rounds of “surprise gift packages” from a tray. I have learned there will never be a “just the right time” to do something. We do make time for the things we feel are important. Relationships are something I prioritize.

June 14-15th, Father’s Day weekend we had the great joy of our son, Scott Wood, being with us. He and his dad ministered for the men and boys of our church at a Saturday evening dinner. Then Scott brought a powerful sermon for our Sunday morning service. His dad said he couldn’t think of a better Father’s Day gift from a son. Our daughter couldn’t be here so she sent her Dad money for his very favorite candy - Sweet Tarts- so he was thrilled! I was really blessed because medically we were not suppose to be able to have children so these two miracles, our son and daughter, make it Father’s Day and Mother’s Day everyday for us!

June 22nd Work Days began for Step Two of our church family’s move toward our five acres of land. We will break ground late fall this year on the property. Until then we are relocating from a warehouse we rent to a great location and building we will rent beginning July 13th until the completion of Phase I of our home for Real Life Church, Olive Branch, Mississippi. I’m sure Abraham and Sarai moved their dwelling tents willingly but also in hope for the day they possessed their land!

I hope your June has been great - full of work you love, family and friends you love even more and steps that move you toward the goals you have set before you!

Sow a Thought….

Lana — Sun, 04 May 2008 01:09:07 +0000

“Sow a thought, reap an act, sow an act, reap a habit, sow a habit, reap a lifestyle, sow a lifestyle, reap a destiny.”

This was a quote given by a speaker I heard a while ago. They didn’t remember who originally said it, but I was really impacted by it. The speaker had a theme of the power of our thoughts and words. They can limit us or press us forward toward our goals. The universal and Biblical law of sowing and reaping is described in the quote.

It was amazing as I looked at the times in my life when I had thought through a “huge” and “difficult” situation looking for answers, for divine revelation. There were small events that I seemed to breeze on through not requiring much thought at all. Part of the reason was the value system I have held to and it gives me guidance. Often I don’t have to “trouble” over something in my mind to get a clear direction.

But there have also been times in my life when I needed answers for questions large and small. They seemed to be eluding me. My mental gymnastics, vain imaginations, insecure feelings producing fearful thoughts, and scripture quotations still didn’t give me clarity or peace. It has been in those times that this quote has come to me. I have actually back-tracked through my thinking to see where my thoughts led to acts which led to habits which led to lifestyle choices which led to other choices on my way to walk in destiny.

Fulfilling purpose is another way of defining destiny. The Biblical law of sowing and reaping greatly influences us financially and that certainly affects our ability to fulfill purpose, to reach our goals, to be a person of destiny.

Thoughts, actions, habits, lifestyle choices - all seeds we sow that will result in fulfilling purpose, to be a person of destiny.

A Husband’s Love

Lana — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 15:29:42 +0000

I love this time of year….azaleas blooming, filling flower beds with impatiens and perriwinkles, but my favorite thing in the spring is a gift from my husband. He plants roses for me.

In fact, Ron has planted a rose bush for me every place we have ever lived - including outside the window of my dorm room in college! Now, for those of you who have lived in the same place for many years this wouldn’t seem like a big deal, but we have moved MANY times. I have great pictures of the places and the roses. This month Ron planted them for me at our home in Olive Branch, Mississippi. We have our favorites, Mr. Lincoln, Noel Coward, Queen Elizabeth, Heritage Season, and Wild Rose.

We were married on June 1, 1969, and for the first year of our marriage he gave me a single rose on the first day of each month. He also writes beautiful poetry and I have no doubt that of the two of us he is the real romantic.

Watching the buds come on the rose bushes and then opening to their full beauty is a metaphor for our lives together. Young love, budding and blooming, growing even in thorny times, weathering “black spot” seasons then continuing to bloom and grow, multiplying blooms every season…

I am very grateful for a husband that tends my gardens - the rose garden, and the garden in my heart!

Healthy Boundaries Song

Lana — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 16:06:56 +0000

O.K., O.K., for those of you who have asked, now you get the answer:

I had the awesome privilege of working with the Staff of The ROCK of Wilmington in North Carolina. Hardworking, dedicated, passionate-for-Christ people who NEVER knew when to stop talking shop. Lunch times and break times I would try to introduce a topic unrelated to ministry or work and after a sentence or two someone would take us back into the workplace shop talk.

We had a HUGE event coming up and everyone wanted to have their area of ministry at its very best so, being stressed out, we started whining and complaining about work to one another. This spilled over into times and meals away from the office, too. I went to my office and prayed, “Lord, please give me something to get us laughing!” Well, this is what He gave me….

Sung to the tune of the Oscar Meyer Weiner song:

“Oh, I wish I had a healthy boundary,

Oh, that is what I’d truly like to see,

‘Cause if I had a healthy boundary,

Then everyone would be in love with me!”

(Hey, if it’s not spiritual enough for you complain to the Lord…He gave it to me!)

I then became the “Self-Appointed Mental Health Advocate” to the staff. Any time anyone slipped into shop talk at an inappropriate time I would sing this song. Soon, all we had to do was start to hum the tune to one another and we’d laugh and change the subject.

It is easy for me to get intense with ministry responsibilities and no one loves me when I am intense! Kingdom work is hard, intense, and fulfilling, but hey, sometimes the Lord says to us, “Go get a life! I’m God and you’re not!”