The Road

My Friend, My Everything

2012-02-22T02:36:00.004-08:00

We were asked the question in Sunday School "Who is He, to you?" and we went around trying to describe in words who He is to us. I listened as He was beautifully described as a best friend, as an everything, etc...

I gave a basic answer of "He's my center. We get busy and things get crazy and we're pulled in so many different directions. You can only be pulled so far before you have to snap right back to the center." But He's much more than that. I wasn't very satisfied with my answer so when I awoke at 3:30 this morning, I pondered on the question a bit more...

My dry eyes cracked opened. The cold meds, the asthma inhaler, something had drained me completely of fluids as I peered at the white ceiling. I listened intently to the silence for a brief moment and I knew my day would be anything quiet.

I smiled as I realized He was my silence when all is loud and chaotic and He is sound when silence is piercing. He is direction when I'm unclear of the path ahead and He is the map of past travels. He is my vision when my eyes don't see and He's my blinder when my gaze is filled with distractions. He's my warmth when the bitter and the cold move too close and He's my cool when the heat seeps through my veins. He's air when I am smothered and He takes my breath when I gasp at His creations. He's comfort when I am in need and He's assurance when I fall short. He is my Friend and my Everything, just like they said...

I look around at our congregation and I see Him. He's Blessed some members with careworn wrinkles not placed by age alone but by love and laughter, hope and heart, character and devotion. He's also Blessed some with streaks of silver that age alone could not place. Each strand was earned through worship, time spent in the valleys and Faith that would lead them to the mountains. He is their Friend, their Everything.

The Devil's Ear

2012-02-21T07:34:00.002-08:00

We had such nice services Sunday and Sunday night. There's not much I can add this week. I particularly enjoyed Sunday School this week. I think we all shed tears just in the 45 minutes together. It's amazing how silly, goofy, hilarious everyone in that class can be, but when it comes time to worship, that's what we do. We are blessed with plenty of time on our hands for fluff but when we all arrive at church, we worship. I love that.

A thought keeps coming to me though. I guess it's to serve as a reminder to me as much as anyone else because I do cave in at times, depending on subject matter, and listen with the Devil's ear. There are many times, I can hear a small portion of an event, a story, a problem and by listening with the devil's ear which leads to speaking with a forked tongue, I say things that I wish I had not. Keeping quiet is something I can do, I know I can, I've done it before, but it takes more effort on my part as a sinner. I have to remind myself that there are times when I am put in a position to listen, and only listen. My words can often do more harm than good when spoke in anger, so I must remind myself to listen with my heart. When I practice this, I speak with a civil tongue that may still do no good alone, but when spoke in prayer can change everything. And that's my simple thought for the day.

Daddies

2012-02-13T03:10:00.000-08:00

He began shouting as we sang. Chills ran from the top of my scalp to the bottom of my toes. The Lord was filling this man up and as our pastor often puts it...He was just spewing all over the congregation. I tasted salt as tears poured from eyes at such a Blessing. Grown men watched intently and shook their heads deliberately in agreement as His words reached them. The man's voice was felt as it was carried through the floor he stood upon and it reached up into each pew and captured those carefully placed on each cushioned slab of wood, by Him.

Daddies Testified about their daughters, one after the other. One child was eventually led to the alter when she collapsed on her knees in prayer. Loving family and friends quickly surrounded the child and when they stood, her Daddy wrapped his arms around her. They stood there embracing for awhile. It was beautiful. I knew that whatever she needed, He had for her. Her Daddy can hug her, love her, and wrap his arms around her but what she truly needed, she could only get from The Lord, her Father, and she'd found it at The Alter.

Her Daddy sat back down in front of us. His boots wiped clean for service, the flesh on his arms was scratched up and his hands looked worn from hard work. He sang loudly the words to every song after that. He apparently received a Blessing also. His proud voice never even needed a hymn book, he just knew. The songs grew with each strong voice....and we never even went to Sunday School.

The Wagon

2012-02-12T03:55:00.000-08:00

In the past, we'd frequent Children's Hospital quite often. I called it my home away from home the first 8 years of my child's life. If we weren't there for appointments or surgery several times a year, we were sleeping there, praying there, crying there, laughing there, and growing there. The first three years of my son's life, I kept a hospital bag in the trunk of my car. It had a change of clothes for both of us, toothbrushes and other emergency items in case we showed up at an appointment with the ENT or walked into the emergency room and were told to stay. This actually happened quite a bit as he struggled with his body fighting infections, unexplained severe head pain, pneumonia and other various obstacles the child faced over the years.

I could always tell when he felt better because he would ask, "Can we go get a wagon now?" He loved pulling those wagons around. He'd load his stuff in them and pull them around the hospital floor for days sometimes. Often, he was only able to ride in them as he was too dizzy to walk but that was just as fun. We've been in the hospital twice during Christmastime over the years and used the wagons to carry all the gifts out to the lobby. There were times I thought I'd never reach a point where I could look back on those years instead of living them in the present. But I have.

We have a wonderful child in our church who attends very regularly. She rolls her wheel chair up front when the children sing, she's really talkative and friendly to everyone, and she has a wonderful family and church that love her and treat her just like all the other kids with and without special needs. The Youth Group recently took up money within the church to purchase a wagon in honor of her and donate it to Children's Hospital. I can't imagine her face when she goes for her next visit and sees a child in need, riding in "her" wagon. Anytime we got a wagon with a plaque on it, I always wondered about the child whose name clung to the wagon. Now other children, and possibly my own at some point again, will be able ride when they can't walk or even pull it around while they wait for hours for multiple appointments. Tired grandmothers, stressed moms and dads, nurses and other caretakers will pull this wagon behind their backs for children too sick to attend school like other kids or children who may never even leave the hospital.

If you ever go to Children's Hospital, watch the kids in the wagons. Most have no idea how sick they really are. Their bald heads shine in the light and their smiles are contagious. Some cling to their IV stands as their Dads pull them around the entire hospital, just to get out of that room for a while. Some simply cling to Faith with every step they take.

I am very proud of our Youth Group for thinking of Children's Hospital and our little friend from church. I know she'll look for this wagon every time she goes from now on! And maybe someone else, will use Faith too as they travel...

So I Touched

2012-02-07T09:57:00.000-08:00

I awoke this morning and just lied in bed for a solid hour with Him on my mind. I thought about church, the people, the songs, the testimonies...

I finally forced myself out of bed even though it was still hours before I would see the sun. I could feel my bones tremor inside even though my hands were steady, so I knew He was very near me. I did my morning routine, then had a little talk with Jesus to start my day off right. I had no intention of letting anything get in between us today and I was so thankful, He had blessed me with an off day so I could revive what I knew was getting buried with menial labors of the flesh.

After dropping the children off, I came straight back home. I eliminated myself of distractions and He poured out His Blessings. I managed to work on a project that I've set aside for a couple of weeks. At His blessing, I was given a task that at times, I admit I have questioned but I know for a fact it came from Him, so I'm letting Him carry me through the entire thing. Asking for patience each day, yet time after time allowing impatience to bleed through-He truly has shown me that just because I want something, or want to finish something, I must wait for Him. I knew today I would be blessed with His direction.

A bird chirping outside my door about mid morning led me to leave the confined internals of my house and go outside for a break. I knew there was more and I didn't want to pass it up. I walked right up to the edge of the property and stared out into the woods. I heard squirrels scurry around for acorns and suddenly I was startled by a large bird taking flight. I filled my lungs with cool air and shut my eyes as if were the last breath I'd ever take in. I held it in for a moment and eased it out reluctantly. I felt the warmth from the sun reach down and caress my back.

I thanked Him for taking the time to touch me today. I realized how often I am blessed to see and hear so many wonderful things around me, but rarely do I ever reach down and touch them. I walked up to my favorite trail.

I stopped in the middle of the trail and reached my bare hand out to touch the barbed wire fence. I wondered how many times my husband's grandparents, who lived here during their time down here, snagged their garments or their flesh on this sharp metal fence. I ran my hand down the metal wire and as long as I was aware of the barb ahead, I could move my fingers out of the way but if I got distracted, the pain of the sharp metal pricking my skin would get me before I even knew it was there.

Again, I became keenly aware of everything around me. I could smell a very pungent bitter green odor. The "soap nuts" from a nearby tree covered the ground and I picked several up in my hands at once and knew, I'd always recognize that distinct smell from now on.

I walked back home and in my front yard I saw a cluster of daffodils. I walked over to them and admired their beauty in my February yard. I bent down on my knees to feel the velvet moss that grew around the old oak trees. It felt like damp carpet between my fingers and I reached out to touch the daffodils. I squeezed the stem of three and pulled them from the ground. In slow motion, not letting one second of this day slip past me unnoticed, I pulled the flowers close and inhaled. The fresh aroma brought tears to my eyes...they smelled exactly like my Maw Maw did.

With tears flowing, I thanked Him once again for such a beautiful day. Of all the people He could have picked to give all this to, He chose me. I stood from my knees and carried my dear grandmother's memory inside to brighten my table. So glad I reached out and touched His blessings today, what gifts He bestows.

He Was Watching

2012-02-05T11:12:00.000-08:00

We are studying Hell in the adult Sunday School Class and the room was packed full this morning. We just barely brushed the surface, but today people spoke of how those in Hell have such an awareness about what is taking place. I imagine they will be fully aware of hurt, pain, misery and not just physically but also have a full mental awareness of the torments each suffer.

I felt like we'd barely got started when it was time to go back up for worship service. The church was also packed full today, which is absolutely fantastic. Many had come to watch our newest and probably youngest preacher give his first sermon since announcing last week he'd been called to preach.

The singing sounded great this morning and when it was finally time for him to begin, he walked up to the front with his new Bible clinched in his hands. The black Book with golden edges shined as he held it up in reference throughout his sermon. He'd walk around as he delivered the message but not too far from The Book. He held it up several times and the black ribbon parted somewhere in The New Testament, and I wondered what he'd marked to read. He never even got to a verse, he didn't need it today.

My eyes were drawn to the pew on which I sat. A tiny young boy sat quietly in his Mama's lap as she gently rubbed his back. His eyes were fixated on the teenage preacher and his big eyes blinked slowly as sleep invited its way in. I thought how blessed this child is to be in a church where he can have role models like stood before him. Those who aren't afraid to admit being sinners, but are much too proud to be ashamed of being God's child. I thought how comforting it is that a child like this, can drift into dreams with the sounds of peace moving through him. As his eyes grew heavy, he continued to watch the young preacher with interest. The tiny child was falling asleep listening to Heaven.

I'm very proud of the young preacher who held his new Bible up high and said he hoped that in 20 years the worn could be seen on the cover, throughout the pages...because that means he's used it. I don't envy preachers, they have a tough job. They get up each week or whenever they are asked, and prepare themselves to preach to the blind and the deaf. It is their calling to get the word through so that people wearing protective veils will see and those with closed ears will hear. They try week after week to get them to see, to hear, to feel, and that can't be an easy task. Our newest did a geat job today, and I'm proud to have been a part of it.

Looking for the Grace

2012-01-31T03:07:00.000-08:00

Sunday just couldn't get here fast enough for me this past week. Working double the hours I'm accustomed to, getting up at midnight to go help a friend in need Saturday, and the lack of progress on a project I'm working on, had really taken its toll on me. I needed a "do-over".

Leaving a sick child and an injured husband behind, I stumbled into church because I'd had a bad week. With my daughter by my side, we walked in and took our seats. As the room filled, songs began to permeate the air. I looked to my left and saw a cancer survivor with her daughter close behind her. With her grandchildren seated all over the church, she had a slight smile upon her face as she sang the words, she was just happy to be there on that pew.

From behind me, a voice was heard full of renewed strength, determination, and she too had survived cancer, and was happy to be there. I sat shamefully as I had merely survived a week of the average, and I actually walked in asking for a do-over.

I saw a young lady walk to the front of the church to lead a song and just when she'd almost completed her journey down the aisle, she looked over her left shoulder and said, "Maw Maw, will you come help us."

I thought of how wonderful it was that her grandmother could still stand by her side. I listened to them sing, and at that moment, there was nothing better. I could feel my chest rising with each breath, but it felt like His hand had reached down inside me to give me air when I felt smothered. Chill bumps covered my entire body but I was not cold. Within four or five cleansing moments, I realized why I was there.

I was grateful for the fact that I was healthy enough to walk through those doors. I was grateful for the fact that I had someone who needed me, even at midnight on a Saturday. I was grateful that I had a job, and that it provided food for my children and I was grateful that the Lord had blessed me with a project that I will continue at His Will. I was proud of the way I had handled the situations I'd been faced with this past week, even though I was physically drained.

As I sat on pew, I realized that I had in fact wasted much of my week viewing the unpleasant, when all I had to do was look for the Grace. As I prayed, I asked Him for a do-over. A week in which I can hear sweet giggles from my kids, a week in which I smell the richness of life, and a week in which I see the meadows instead of just empty fields. I am just happy to be here, and I'm grateful for do-overs as I spend my week looking for the Grace this time.

Biscuits

2012-01-25T19:41:00.000-08:00

Through broken speech, a grown man stood and told of how he went to church for years with only one parent. The sight of a younger, but very brave father of two standing up before us to give Devotion tonight, who had noted something beautiful about his daughters, something very special that brought tears to all of our eyes, had tugged deep inside this other man. With pride gleaming from him, he illuminated the room with the warmth of his memory of going to church without his dad.

Another parent stood soon after to just tell us how blessed she was which led her up front to take her place at the piano and just sing about it instead. I watched her Sunday as she sat at that very piano. While her fingertips gently touching those ivory keys, her daughter walked from the very back of the church, to hug her Mama in the middle of a song. I didn't think I could like the song any more, but with that moment, it became much more valuable.

Tonight she sang and almost every voice in that church sang with her. She looked up as she often does, like she's lost in the song, unaware that anyone besides her and The Lord are even present, and I could see a sparkle under her eye. A single tear glimmered as bright as the finest silver and she sang again.

When the preacher stood up he read several verses and the more he read, the stronger his voice got. The stronger his voice got, the more he paced across because he was being filled with more energy than his voice alone could project. He got loud but at a civilized volume and the more he spoke, the more attracted the congregation seemed.

With keen interest, we listened as he talked about favorite places. From childhood to adulthood, he spoke of different places he loved to visit. He mentioned his aunt's house where he always had special homemade biscuits. Everyone could have what they wanted but he had special ones she made just for him. He said his wife noted one of her favorite places was going to her grandmother's house. She had the knack for making each one of her many grand kids feel like they were the only one.

I could relate to both. I loved Maw Maw's biscuits, and each one of her grand kids were her favorite. I could smell breakfast cooking the more he spoke. I watched my Paw Paw walk over the oven and get the biscuits out for Maw Maw as I set the table. I had to drag myself back into the present before I slipped completely from the message. He spoke of different churches he's been a part of over the years and how each one held a special place in his heart. He then said, that as grown man today, he loved coming to New Welcome Church because he loved each and every one of us. He loved just coming to the House of the Lord.

He wasn't saying it for fluff, he wasn't saying it because he wanted something in return, he meant it. Tears rolled slowly down like the morning dew on blades of grass and I had soaked my single tissue. I left there feeling really good, refreshed, revived. After spending years in and out of silent churches, where no one says anything out of turn, the man on the second pew is guaranteed to sleep through every single service and leaving not sure I even heard the message...I am Blessed beyond to have arrived here. Where I know that if I can't see church, I'll hear it...if I can't hear church, I'll feel it. All those years, I rambled around looking, and it was right here all along. I just had no idea.

Three minutes

2012-01-25T04:33:00.000-08:00

I was listening to my husband's car leaving. As he set out on what he thought would be an average day at work, there was something much bigger in store for him. My thoughts were interrupted by an eerie howl that attacked me from the nearby woods. I pondered only briefly what the sound might be, and then sat straight up in the bed with nothing but disturbance. Tornadoes.

I need to warn my husband. I had forgotten all about the bad weather, we rarely even watch t.v. but the storms are coming, and he doesn't even know. I turn the t.v. on as I walked past it to do my usual three minute wake up routine of coffee, clothes, glasses, etc. I automatically heard the weather man and at 3:30 a.m., you know something big is happening for him to be there.

I came back to the the television to see exactly where the storms were and for now, we were okay. I texted my husband and told him to be sure he listened to the radio on the way to work but not to text me back, he needed to focus.

As the weather got worse, I watched my husband's route to work in my head and tried to time his every move. With my hand's clinched around my coffee cup I watched in horror as the weather got worse and worse the more distant my husband travelled. I could only hope he was heeding my advice and listening to the radio. Right about the time he arrived within miles from work, I heard the weather man say there was a tornado travelling in the same direction. Firemen were calling in telling of overturned vehicles right where my husband was supposed to be. The tornado was crossing over one of the busiest highways right now, and my husband was on that highway. I watched, knowing "it" could happen, but knowing I was never going to be ready for "it" to.

Sunday night one of our preachers hit the nail on the head when he said something like, we all say we're ready, and then turn around and make plans for tomorrow. We put a lot of things off until tomorrow, because in the past, tomorrow has always come for us. It's not always going to be that way.

I'm not sure I even took a breath as I watched on the screen that map showing the twister go over that highway. I listened intently as they named towns, cities, roads in it's path. Whispering quick prayers as the tornado ripped across the land.

The phone rang. My trembling hands picked it up and saw my husband's number. For a moment, I thought it was going to be someone from a rescue crew on the other end. When I heard his voice, I was so elated. He was arriving at the spot where the tornado had just passed over. He told me of power lines down, debris, damage, and within his own confusion, he finally realized he'd just missed the violence of a tornado. His phone had not been on...he never got my warning. He had not listened to the radio, he was listening to a cd.

He told me that right down the road he had stopped his car at a gas station. He can drive through almost anything but this time, he pulled over for about three minutes. Those three minutes probably saved his life. It obviously just wasn't his time to go this day. All I could do was thank the Lord for having him pull over because all other attempts failed to reach him. But he was safe.

At a pitch black 4 a.m. hour, he really had no idea until he got off work, what he'd just survived. He saw the path of the storm later on that day, the devastation that killed, the devastation that hurt so many, and he was so grateful. Overturned 18 wheelers, homes ripped apart, schools torn to pieces, yet, he stopped for 3 minutes. Thank you Lord for one more day!

Click here for photos from al.com

Connecting Dots

2012-01-24T04:21:00.000-08:00

When we were blessed with our kids, we had no idea what lied ahead. We had a blank sheet and could design any picture, and as many as we wanted, we just had to fill it with enough dots for the kids to connect, so they'd see the wonderful pictures in the end.

I've realized over the years that we can't possibly be every dot for every picture. As they grow and the pictures become bigger and better, they also become more complicated and less visible when we first start out. Pictures become filled with so many tiny dots that looking outward in, the kids can't always see how beautiful it will be in the end.

A page full of tiny dots handed to a child sometimes leads them to start connecting random dots to make their own picture. Unguided by us, who knows what they would end up with, it could turn out good, or turn into a mess. Take some of the dots away, unused by the child and your picture will also change. This is where patience comes in. We don't always receive our a page with clear dots in the beginning. If we are unsure where to go next, we wait for our dot to reveal itself.

We talk a lot in church about people being led to do things. I'm so thankful that I'm in a room full dots. They aren't afraid to stand up and show themselves to the children trying to make sense of the pictures we want our kids to see. It may be their Sunday School teacher who sings a song, or the teenager who says, "I'll walk down the aisle with you." Hopefully with continued guidance, patience, and pictures full of beautiful dots, our kids will have a canvas full of love.

Just remember, we all can be dots for someone. We can make their picture complete, or incomplete. We can change their picture completely if they were left with a mess. Some people have no idea which dot to choose next and all they need is someone to guide them in the right direction, who can see something better than what their troubled eyes may see right now. Take time to be a dot today. It may be all someone needs to finish one picture and start on a new one, a better one.

And She Shouted

2012-01-22T15:33:00.000-08:00

I was thrilled it was Sunday when I awoke this morning. I needed it to be Sunday. I haven't had a terrible week or anything but I just needed church today. I needed Him, I needed my church family, I needed my family, all together. As we began to sing before Sunday School, I know I wasn't the only one who thought we may never divide to classes this day...voices were strong, proud, and strengthening.

We did in fact go to classes and when we returned, it didn't take long get right back where we had left off. For the very first Alter Call, I watched a tiny four year old march herself up the first pew, and bow down on her knees. I smiled and my hands began to shake. I knew He was gonna pay us visit today. I sat there wondering if He was going to use me, or my friend, or someone on the back pew...it didn't really matter to me, I was open to receiving whatever He had. Although I usually don't receive a Gift in the form of verbal words, I still received a Gift.

It's hard to explain in words how easy the hymns sounded. I knew something great was going to come through as I watched a young teen pound his hand down on the pew to the rhythm of the songs. One of the piano players sat behind me at one point in the service and I can't say that I've ever been blessed to hear him sing. Although soft to the sound, it was so pleasant, I was glad He let me hear it.

As we started to sing another song, a young twelve year old, stood up. I had already been brought to tears by the beauty I'd been surrounded by. This child of God stood up, filled with courage she shouted "Hallelujah!!!" I've never really witnessed her being led to say anything, she's always gonna shout it from the rooftops. Just hearing her voice, so full of passion, at such a young age made ME feel so good. I found myself overjoyed by her words that I was laughing and crying at the same time. I looked around and everyone else was smiling too but tears were still streaming like a waterfall from the side of the slated mountain. I was so glad she stood.

Soon after the man from behind me, with the pleasant voice, stood too. Not long after that, we were Blessed with another teen's Testimony. One after the other, the church was filled with all His Glory. We were asked to all walk around in Fellowship and I was so glad someone felt led to ask us to do that as well. We walked around the church just hugging each other. One of our oldest members reached out for me, I hugged her and she said, "I love you". She looks at the back of my head every service but I know that if I wasn't there, she'd probably miss me.

We are a very Blessed church. And nothing is more important right now to me, than getting my clothes changed, and heading right back there now. I look forward the the singing we are having next Sunday night. I can only imagine what will break out there.

Different Plans part 2

2012-01-16T07:01:00.000-08:00

During all parts of church Sunday, prayer request after prayer request poured in, one after the other, so many sick, some in hospitals barely hanging on while others have been sent home needing miracles. The singing was really strong today, in every song we sang. Three people stepped up to sing together, and never would I have thought about teaming them up vocally but someone else had. With mics in hand and one seated at the piano, they all began to sing. I found myself shaking my head back and forth as the beautiful music, their radiant songs, lit the church. They sang with confidence, they sang with intent and I was taken back for a moment. I was honored to be present. No matter how hard I tried to stop shaking my head, verse after verse entered each ear which filled my head and soon my heart. I didn't want them to stop, but they took their seats eventually.

I watched an enthusiastic man preach. I saw his son a few rows up and his eyes were glued to his Dad. He was watching, he was learning, he was growing. I saw a man pick up his newborn baby, as he looked down at her with a genuine love, her bright eyes were drawn towards the light from the windows. With that tiny newborn grin and glow in her eyes from the light, I realized how lucky she was. She was born into the most inspiring, influential church I've ever attended.

The night service was just as grand. A different preacher stood before us, as he has several times in the past. As soon as he spoke, I realized how much he sounded like my uncle. His face would feel with color at times as his words thrust out, so absorbed in the message, he barely took time to refill his lungs. He gave an exceptionally powerful message that complimented what we'd already been discussing throughout the day. He said we make plans everyday, but so does God. His plans may not always agree with our plans, but He has the bigger picture and we do not. He recalled past events in the congregation's lives where the unexpected caught them all by surprise. But they used Faith to get them through.

As I sat at the stop sign, leaving the night service, I saw headlights approaching. As I waited for the road to clear, a cop stormed past. I pulled out and started my twenty five minute drive home. When I got to the main highway, I saw something. Blue lights lit the top of the dark mountain, reflecting off everything from asphalt to road signs. My heart sank as I knew, someone's plans had just been changed. I turned in the opposite direction and soon I saw more flashing lights approaching. As I got ready to turn off the dangerous highway, an ambulance was on its way, uncertain of what it would find when it arrived. Family members of the hurt, would soon be called to the hospital and they would likely be seeking God for help. In an instant we get the unexpected. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it seems so bad. But we have to remember who is in charge. He has plans for us, and in due time, He'll place those plans on your heart.

Different Plans part 1

2012-01-16T02:45:00.000-08:00

I'm still devouring the messages we've experienced at church on Sunday. From Sunday School to the morning service to the Sunday night message as well. We began in Sunday School discussing Faith. We were given examples of how having confidence in people is fine but our Faith belongs with God.

When my son was one, we took him in for a surgery that I really had little hopes of working. I in fact said, "I'll believe it when I see it," as we made final preparations to prepare a deaf child to become a hearing deaf child. I didn't practice my Faith going into it. We'd been out of church for quite some time and all I prayed was that he'd be safe.

After over four hours a nurse burst through to doors to waiting room and with a concerned tone she said, "The doctor needs to see you...in private." I jumped to my feet and with my husband by my side, we walked to a room. Our hearts raced and I stood there cracking my knuckles until the doctor walked in. With disappointment on his face, he took a deep breath and told us that he couldn't do it. He said he drilled and drilled and just could not locate the part of his ear that he needed to place the implant's electrodes...to make my baby hear. He also added that he thought his face was paralyzed too. And it was. With a sigh of relief that my baby was safe, alive, and in recovery...I think I smiled. For a moment I thought he was going to tell me that he was gone. But right then, I knew God did exactly what I had asked, he kept him safe.

For a long time, I went over in my head what we should have done differently. Weeks and months passed. He learned to eat and drink and make a few sounds with half of his face drooping with paralysis. We had survived yet another obstacle. This is time in my life, I began getting closer to God. I was saved as a child of twelve years old but my spiritual growth was practically dormant. I prayed when I needed something. The more I prayed the more I saw Him. As we said in church, we don't always get the results we as sinners are looking for. But if nothing more than the fact that I started growing spiritually with all of the trials we went through with my son as he endured surgery after surgery after surgery, he's got to be approaching twenty or more procedures and operations for this child, with more to come at some point in his future, we were following God's plan which had been different than mine. I watched as his face slowly but surely started strengthening again, and one day he smiled, both sides of his lips curled up and the paralysis was almost completely gone away.

The next time we were scheduled for this major operation, as one last attempt to help a deaf child hear, I knew I had it right. My confidence was there. The doctor scheduled the surgery three months in advance to give him time. He wanted to talk to other specialists, and he said he needed the three months to pray about it. I think I did too. By the morning of the operation I walked in with my head held high. I told the doctors that it was okay to abort the surgery again if any problems arise, I wanted him safe, I expected him to come out of that O.R. safe, and I knew he would. I had asked God to send a special Angel to hold my baby's hand while in there. This time, I had it right, "I believed it, so I would I see it."

3 yrs old-Successful surgery

The confidence I had in the doctors helped that time, but the Faith in God is why my child who anatomically probably shouldn't hear, does hear today. God has the ability to make the blind see and the deaf hear. We don't know what His plan is but He is in control. Not every prayer is answered in the way we expect. But we expect they will be answered, as they always are. I knew that at the final completion of this surgery, we-as a family-would begin a new normal. A whole new way of communication was headed for my home, whether it be a manual mode or verbal mode, our frustrations were about to be lifted and we would move forward. And my little baby of just nine months old was slowly becoming a deaf child too, and we had no idea.

That was just one part of the message today...(to be continued)

Scare it out of them

2012-01-10T03:10:00.000-08:00

I can't really apologize for this, because with every passing day, I feel like I'm running out of time. I have unsaved children. But yesterday, on the way to school, we discussed the Rapture. We had discussed some of Revelations in Sunday School this week and I'm tactfully giving as much as I can to my kids. I have to be truthful with them, they are now 8 and 10. We discuss Heaven often but this day we talked about Hell. I was in a way, trying to scare it out of them.

They were silent at first and then full of questions about His return. "But who will take care of us if you go with Jesus? How will we get food? Will Nanny take care of us?" I answered them the best I could. I assured the kids that should Daddy or I die before Christ comes back, we'd be safe and waiting in Heaven, hoping they too would come one day. They always ask me what He feels like. I explained that He would know when they are ready to repent, ready to accept Him, and ready to feel Him. I want my kids to be fully aware of what getting Saved really is, what it means, how you go about it, etc. When it really is their time to accept Him, they know exactly what is going on. They were really taking it all in!

I kissed them on the cheek and left them at the school doors and I had to make a trip over 50 miles away. While on the interstate, in the misting rain, I saw brake lights ahead. In slow motion it seemed I passed through the wreckage. A pick up truck was on its side and all I could see was the undercarriage with a black bag on the hill beside it. Luckily it was just trash that had been in the back of his/her truck and nothing more. No police yet, no ambulance, just several cars pulled off to help but no one was in the wrecked vehicle. Some men were racing back to the other side of the interstate to look for the driver who had not been found yet apparently. I realized how quickly we can be here, and then not be here. In the panic, these people were searching for someone who had been in that truck, but was no longer there. I wondered if that's how it will be when Christ comes back. Will the people left behind search for us or will they just know?

When I picked up the children from school my daughter immediately said, "I was good today, because I want to go to Heaven!" Obviously the conversation had been on her mind while in school. She hugged me when we got home and said, "Do you know of anybody who went to Heaven today?" I assured her that many people went to Heaven today and she asked me why I didn't go. I told her He has some more things for me to do here but one day it'll be my turn, we have no idea when that will be, it could be many years from now. She didn't appear to be scared at all, just comforted instead. She took her dolls and went out to play.

The Devil

2012-01-08T15:32:00.000-08:00

After the amazing church service we had last week, I should have known the Devil would make an appearance shortly thereafter. I know he can't stand for us to gather each week and praise, worship, sing, love, pray. Other members have stated before that after a service like that, the Devil gets after them. Well, I have a story...

I went to bed Sunday night thinking about how wonderful He'd been to us, how wonderful He felt. My own daughter even noticed that the service was a little different. On the way home she had asked me who the lady was. I wasn't sure who she was referring to so I asked for some detail. She described what she was wearing and then she said, "You know, the one that was at The Alter on her knees, praying, the lady that looked like she'd been Touched." My heart melted knowing that these kids pay attention to us more than we think, and she was watching.

Sometime during the wee hours of Monday morning, I awoke in an awful sweat. I remember the horror I felt. I was sick with disgust that I literally felt nauseous. I immediately prayed very hard that He would remove the demonic images from me so I could find rest again. He did, almost. I have absolutely no idea what the details were but all I know now is that I was trying to crawl away. I was crawling away from a very evil presence and I was trying to get back to a place where I felt trust and safety and love. I was crawling with all my might but the Devil had me by my ankles. No matter how deep I dug my nails into the ground, pulling with all my might, he still had hold and had no intention of letting me go. I think I was left with that image for a reason.

I tried the next morning to remember exactly what I had been dreaming and no matter how hard I tried to pull the information up, all I could see was the evil presence over my bed hanging on to my ankles. I said more prayers than usual that day and went to bed in peace that night. At midnight (12:08 a.m. to be exact) I awoke with tears running down my eyes. I felt of my pillow and it was soaked and I just lied there on my back wondering what I was crying for. I had a project on my mind for some reason. This is one that I thought of a long time ago, just something I'd like to do in the future and have put off. I wasn't sure why I had it on my mind after all this time, and in the middle of the night. Why had I awaken for this?

I sat there with my eyes open and it was like I was watching a movie. It contained lots of bits and pieces of things I've seen in the past and made mental notes of, but never did anything with other than make that mental note to remember it. As the "movie" went on and on and the story got deeper and deeper, I never quit crying. I became so stuffy that I had to get up and get water, but no matter what I did, the movie kept going, and I kept crying. I knew He was reminding me of these things so I would start the project I've put off for months. And this is how it should be done.

I was afraid that with all those tears I wouldn't be able to start right then so I told Him that I would get started as soon as I rested. I never did go back to sleep, I kept lying there watching this "movie" in my head and I was amazed at how well put together it seemed. That was my trepidation to begin with, not knowing how to start or what to do once I did start this major project. I finally stopped crying hours later but it felt so good to just lie there listening. I wasn't actually asking Him for anything for a change, He was just giving. He woke me from a deep sleep so He must feel like it's important, and I'm in awe that He chose me to do it.

I had planned to start it very early but when a call came in at 5 a.m. to work that day (Wed) I didn't get to start. I told myself that it was okay because I could do it this summer or whenever I had time, all I had to do was rewatch the "movie" in my head and it would all work out.

I was very excited to attend church Wednesday night, almost giddy for some odd reason. When I got there, I realized the message felt geared directly to me. I wanted to slump down in my seat to confirm my guilt but I sat there in shock instead. The preacher was talking about staggering when God gives you something to do. He went over and over how if you stagger, pass up on what He has to offer, someone else may come by and listen to Him, taking your opportunity. I know I can do it...I just have to commit. I actually sat down and got started with is a major step forward but this will take at least several weeks (possibly months) and I'll need lots and lots of prayers behind this. I'm not saying it's going to be something fantastic and great, it's just something I NEED to do, I want to do, and something I shouldn't have hesitated on in the first place.

Today's message had some of the similar points that the preacher was making before. Have faith, hope, love. I can do this, I want to do this, I need to do this. Some people were attacked in other ways this week, some of my favorite singers were sticken with illness and had been sick all week and I'm sure if I asked others, I'd find out more had the Devil on their tail too. But we made it back to praise, worship, sing, love and pray. Today the preacher basically told me to focus. So I pray (and I hope you will to) that despite the busy week I have here in the flesh...that I will spiritually progress, and work on this wonderful little project I've been blessed to receive.

Just a Ladybug

2012-01-01T11:53:00.000-08:00

I couldn't wait to get to church this morning. I was excited to find out that the young couple who had a new baby just a couple of weeks ago was returning. As I ironed skirts and shirts for my own family, my mind was filled with anticipation of seeing this new child God has sent to our church. I was thinking what a gift He has given to us, to them...new life that bares both responsibilities and love...and He chose our church to place her in.

We walked through those doors as we do almost every single Sunday and we found "our home" on the pew. I watched the pianists saunter up and take their places but their strides were both quick and light at the same time, as if there was a cushion of air between their bodies and the ground. The sun got brighter outside and gleamed through the small slender windows as they took their places on the piano benches. Caught completely off guard, one of them was asked to lead us in prayer. I wondered if he could feel the warmth from the sun that lit this small church as his words showered over us in a refreshing gust. This is what began my new year, even though we were now in the 11th hour of 2012.

Our songs were strong and powerful this morning and there was no denying, we were Touched. My hands trembled and the room was full of tears. The energetic hymns were effective as sinner after sinner knelt in prayer. I walked up behind my friend and placed my hand on her back as the carpet became crowded. I felt my hand quake against her back but had no desire to remove it. I was thanking Him for placing me there, among these sinners, among these angels. I listened to everyone else close their own prayers and just like that, my hands were steadied. There was a calmness as if to say, I am here.

I walked back to my seat where my family awaited. Almost everyone in that room had disconnected from the flesh briefly, and was focused on Him. The songs continued and then a little girl went up to sing. Her hair swayed back and forth as she proudly walked up to the mic. I noticed something near the window. It flew a short distance but went right back to that warm pane. It was a ladybug. I listened to the child's voice but could not take my eyes off of this ladybug. Here it is January 1st, and there's a ladybug. It had found refuge inside our church when others of its kind had not survived. It tried to fly around but the attraction of the warm glow of the frosted glass was stronger than the desire to fly.

The sermon was short and sweet, given by a member who has moved hundreds of miles away and only gets to visit around holidays and special times of the year. He thanked me in front of everyone for keeping this blog so he can be a part of the church, even at a 600 mile distance. All I could think about as the gracious words spilled over his lips was "I'm just a ladybug attracted to the light." The people of my church write these stories, these songs of life. I'm just fortunate enough that He invited me there to type out the lyrics of the prettiest song I've ever heard. One that changes and grows with every visit to that church. I'm looking forward to a new year full of song, life, and love with my brothers and sisters at the church of inspiration.

She Smiled

2011-12-25T16:10:00.000-08:00

Even though she's a grandmother, her voice is quite youthful and unstrained when she sings. She's often found on her feet and in tears as she fills the church with her love and devotion for Christ so it's amazing how the words can flow with such ease. She and her husband stood in front of the church and sang for us recently and I'm always in awe the beautiful Faith they wear so proudly. They've lived through some gut wrenching heartache in their years here but the foundation they had together with Him, was enough to send them to their knees at times, and pick their chins up when needed. Their backs looked strong and so upright as their voices ran over the pews in refreshing waves.

This Christmas morning, as we all gathered in church to celebrate the birth of our Savior, she confidently played hymns on the piano. Her son stood behind her and sang warmly as he looked over her shoulder at the lyrics he probably didn't even need to read. I kept picturing him as if he were a little child and wondered if she too was remembering him as a young boy singing beside her as she couldn't remove the smile God put on her face. Her mouth moved silently with his song but only his voice was heard and she glowed with pride, and I could see it flowing from her.

Throughout the entire song, a tall, handsome, grown child stood near his mother. She continued to show the visual tenderness only this man's mother could display. I couldn't help but smile as I realized how He must feel. Not the man behind her but The One who died on a cross for her. I was sure He was smiling too as she devotes as much of herself to Him as anyone I've ever seen.

We had a beautiful service this morning and I'm so thankful for my church. Our pastor reminded me of something I probably never would have remembered if we had not attended today's service. Simplicity. He reminded us how simple and wonderful Christmas should be. He handed us all a piece of fruit and reminded us how wonderful it was to receive an orange or apple in your stocking as a child. I teared up as I held the fruit and remembered running to that stocking as kid and pulling out that orange. It was always the best tasting orange in the world. It was just an orange and still, everything but just an orange. It was simplicity.

Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday Jesus!

She's Sorry She Can't Go to Heaven this Year

2011-12-24T17:43:00.000-08:00

I love my child.

click image for larger view

Happy Birthday

2011-12-24T06:52:00.000-08:00

Several of my friends know that I keep very little "things" such as drawings, school work, etc. even though I love getting these items from the kids, I just don't have space to keep EVERYTHING. I take photos of special items and keep a few of the most special pieces in a folder. I just wanted to share with you one of the most precious keep sakes I've ever received. It didn't even come from my own child but the little girl who drew this is a triplet. I was in awe of the drawing and it stayed on my fridge for several weeks to serve as a reminder. Most of us know the story of the three crosses. I asked the child when she gave me this if she drew everything in 3s since she was a triplet. She smiled and nodded her head yes but this was such a wonderful reminder and came at the perfect time.

Merry Christmas everyone and Happy Birthday to The One that died on one of these crosses for me!

He Shines

2011-12-18T04:39:00.000-08:00

We loaded up in the car, to take the little boy home who had spent the night with my son. He was needing to be home early this time because he had a big family holiday breakfast to attend. The clouds were covering the 8 o'clock sky and the warm air we'd felt on our skin the day before had gone. Our breath could been this day and we could feel the cold stinging our lungs.

We drove for miles and miles and the 10 year old boys chatted their usual conversations. The child asked me, "Hey Val, did I tell you I got Saved?" I smiled remembering how proud he was the day before when he announced it us. Conversation turned to how people decide when it's the right time, what it feel likes to be touched by Him and similar themed speech.

I looked over to our right and from one single break in the clouds, sun rays were shining down. It was so beautiful. I showed the boys and the child who now calls himself "my brother" said to us, "Oh yea! Guess God is shining down on someone in need."

Tears filled my eyes and I turned up the radio as I lost myself in thought. The rays were shining directly down where my friend lives. She's been in need of a lot of prayer this week. I had woke this morning with Saturday on my mind and I had completely forgotten...but He had not. He was lighting her day when everything else was so cloudy, and it was radiant.

I love these little reminders!

My seat on the pew

2011-12-14T18:33:00.000-08:00

I couldn't help but cry a little on the way to church. I knew my friend that sits by me at every service likely wouldn't show tonight. I knew she'd give anything to be sitting there in church but she had to bury a very important part of her family today...her grandmother.

I had no idea what comfort I could offer her if she did come tonight, other than friendship, compassion, sympathy. I miss my grandmother more and more as the days turned into months which have since turned into years since her death. What could I possibly offer my friend? I knew as soon as I walked in and saw the empty padded bench...I would give her my seat on the pew and hopefully she could feel church, even when she didn't get to physically be there.

I love Wednesday nights. Since it's often a smaller crowd that comes out on this night, the people who normally sit on the other side, come over to sit on the right-hand pews. I took my seat and even though I knew she wouldn't be able to come, I still felt disappointment when I looked to my right and saw no one. When I looked to the left though, my daughter and her tiny friend sat and conversed about a baby doll. I couldn't wait for the songs to begin and when they did, I could hear the tiny child sing the words. My daughter looked at me with astonishment that such a small child could know the lyrics to the old gospel hymns we sing. I looked around and heard some strong male voices coming in from behind me, and I waited. I knew what would soon take place that only happens on Wednesday nights, heard only from my seat on the pew when we combine on the one side.

The next song began I could hear them. Their elegant voices began individually from that pew directly behind me but quickly banded together in what was both soft and powerful but most of all, simply profound. I quietened my own voice so I could hear their song. My eyes briefly filled with tears when I wondered what I've done to deserve such beauty.

Another lady walked up front with a single sheet of paper in hand. I love hearing her sing too. She has such a pure and rich voice. She never sings with a piano, her voice is all she needs. I hear life pouring from her vocal chords as she too emits perfection for my ears to relish.

When our pastor began the message tonight, I quickly read the verse before he had a chance to vocalize the words and for once I understood it. It's not often I can read words from the Bible and understand them without interpretation but tonight I could.

Jeremiah 13:23 KJV

King James Version

"Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? then may ye also do good, that are accustomed to do evil."

There are things we can't change about ourselves. There are lots of things I ask God for every, single, day. Simple things that may come natural for many, and I'm on bended knee asking for help...and that's okay, but through Him, all things are possible.

I missed my friend. I am thankful for those who could came out tonight. You just never know whose heart you're touching.

Families in Need

2011-12-03T11:27:00.000-08:00

She pulled me aside and closed the door behind us. Worry was visible all over her face and I feared what she had to say. It became quite clear in those two minutes we spoke, that she had been burdened with something, she knew she had to resolve. Earlier in the week she had became aware of families in need. Children with no socks or underwear to their name, kids wearing shoes three sizes too small and parents working through the night, doing the best they can to provide for their family and still setting aside quality time, to volunteer at the school.

With over 80% of our children in this school on free or reduced lunches, sometimes, those lunches are all they get to eat all day long. We parents who spend countless hours in that school, cutting, gluing, volunteering whenever we can, see lots of children and often entire families in need...but thankful for what they DO HAVE, they are too proud to ask for help.

We would like to ask our community to pull together and donate items for these families in need. Gently used (clean) warm clothes of any size for small and large children and adults (even infants since several families have children not in school yet) are asked to be dropped off at West End Elementary on December 9 from 8:00 until 9:00 a.m. and again that same day from 1 p.m. until 2:30 p.m. We do ask that any socks or underwear be new but anything else such as sweat suits, tennis shoes, gloves, jeans, shirts, clothes suitable for church, etc. simply need to be clean and in good condition.

While many of us try to decide which coat matches our shoes the best, others are pinning clothes together because that's all they have. Again the drop off is next Friday so please ask your churches to consider these families in need.

This is hosted by a group of parents responding to families in need and not the school itself. Your questions should be directed to the parent volunteers during the event or via email. Please feel free to share this post with others in our area who may be interested in donating. The items will go to families associated with our school system. Thank you so much on behalf of all the parent volunteers!

Friday

December 9

West End Elementary at the old gym

in the back near the picnic tables

8:00-9:00 a.m.

and

1:00-2:30 p.m.

Looking for Him

2011-11-30T06:47:00.000-08:00

So I've been at the high school for several days in a row. This is the same high school that I couldn't find Him in, until recently. I've worked here for years now and would have to told you that He wasn't very present here until this year. The truth is, He's probably actually been here the whole time, I just wasn't seeing Him.

This week, I've had the same class everyday. I know the kids are probably ready for their teacher to come back, I would be tired of me too by now. A few weeks ago, there was a child in here that was taking Creative Writing. She wrote a poem. It was about Jesus. When I asked her why she wrote a poem about Jesus she simply smiled and tugged at her pony tail and said, "Because I LOVE Jesus!!" I smiled and shared a poem with her I had also written. We had something in common.

On Monday morning, I prayed that I would see His presence at school. That day, a group came by and small red Bibles were distributed to the students. A few ended up in the trash where other students had pulled them back out. They gave me one. He WAS there, making His presence known. On Tuesday, I was looking everywhere for Him. Troubled teens walked in and out of my class all day. Some were sick, some were needing employment in the worst way and some upset by deaths in our area. Already, this holiday season has been hard for a lot of families facing various obstacles and hardships.

Towards the end of the day, I was walking around the room, making sure the kids were on their online classes and not researching tattoos or the latest fashions in boots. I paused to ask a couple of boys to pick up some paper off the floor when I noticed a book. This book was unusual. It was very tattered, but you could see the thin blue cover clinging for dear life to the hard binding that kept the pages together. I was almost afraid to pick it up it looked so fragile, but I did. I asked to whom it belonged. A nervous soft spoken teen smiled and said it was his. His voice cracked as he teeters between remaining a child and becoming a man. I smiled and asked why he carried such a book. He answered so quickly that confidence spewed into the air and his surrounding peers turned to see. "Because you never know when you're gonna need it!!"

In my hands I held his Bible. I told him I loved it. It looked worn not from mistreatment, but from dedicated use. I said to him, "This looks really special, did someone give it to you?" He told me yes, but he didn't tell me who so I didn't ask. But I felt like he'd shared so much with me, more than most kids his age do so I pulled up my blog on the computer. He read the last entry "With Silver Under His Eyes" with wide eyes and interest. He thanked me and said he really liked that. We had something in common.

Again, I was wrong. He is present in that school. There are more people with deep rooted religion that I thought. It's easy to spot the bad in people if that's all you look for. It takes patience, encouragement and contribution to see the good sometimes.

On my third and final morning in the classroom, I awake to more bad news for the locals. A family here lost everything in a fire. With two young boys at the elementary, I've already seen Him working hard this morning through the faithful friends of the desperate family. He sent a faculty member down to my room for a common morning chat, which was filled with heart and awareness of Him. Both of us teared up before we parted to do our jobs we were sent to do in the flesh. I am so glad He is here...He is everywhere you put Him.

With Silver Under His Eyes

2011-11-28T03:27:00.000-08:00

I was disappointed I missed Sunday morning services. With a child ailing at home, we decided to stay in but I knew I would get to attend the night services, even if it meant I had to go alone.

We never know who will preach our Sunday night services. The preacher usually has one of several other preachers in the congregation give The Message and I took a deep breath in as he announced who it was. It was the man I'd watched last week feel the cross engraved in his pew.

He walked up to the front with his Bible in hand. He opened it slow and deliberately, revealing The Book's markers he'd placed throughout it. The golden edges shined and the soft ribbon extended with purpose. He looked out among us, and he too breathed in deeply. He began a message only he could deliver with such enthusiasm, such commitment and such certainty. He presented a message only a devout husband, daddy and child of God could deliver.

When he was confident it was time to close, many met at The Alter to pray. I prayed intently for the sick, the heart broken, the lost and the needy. I prayed for strength and vision and patience for myself. I realized my grip on the side of the pew had constricted and my knuckles were probably white but I couldn't look over to see. I heard voices soften as they closed their prayers with one voice growing stronger and more pronounced over all others. Soon we all joined in the one prayer led by the Pastor. His sincerity and conviction grew louder until we felt his words. With "Amens" we arose off bended knees and went back to our seats. Our Pastor stood before us and closed the service with silver under his eyes. The light was reflecting just right and metallic puddles had formed under his lashes.

As always I left revitalized, encouraged, and inspired. With Friends Day next Sunday, I have the responsibility to invite a family. I'm still praying about this one. I hope to find just the right family that can appreciate what happens inside those glass doors. Sadly, it's not something you see or even feel every common day. I came to that church on a visit. I know what a blessing it has been to me, so I'm not taking this too lightly.

Matthew 21:22

"And all things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive."

With the lights on bright

2011-11-27T18:49:00.000-08:00

As service closed, I had no idea what time it was. I didn't even care. It had been such a good one, from start to finish. The rain had thickened as I ran to the car and I could feel the water splashing under my soles. I just hoped I'd make it to the car without falling down.

I turned the key and I suddenly became aware, that it was very dark and I had about a 20 minute ride home, some of that time would be driving down one of Alabama's most dangerous highways. I took a deep breath, and pulled out of the lot and was pleased when I saw another member directly behind me. As we pulled onto the road I could barely see through the rain. I wanted to digest the amazing message we'd been given tonight but all I could see was rain. I brightened my lights and quickly it became apparent that that's ALL I could see. The sharp needles of water threw themselves at my windshield like daggers. I was so focused on the rain, I wasn't even looking at the road.

I quickly became aware that if you focus only the rain, you can run off the road. I was relieved to know that the other member behind me had my back should I sway too far. I took comfort in the fellowship and camaraderie that is demonstrated within our church that if I began to merge into danger, someone would be there to direct me back on the road.

They soon turned off the road and I was alone (sorta). I smiled as I realized He has never let me down. Even in the pouring rain, you can still see the road, if you know it's there. There are times when I want to focus on the rain, but He's always there to show me my path. I love how I feel when I leave church. It's like driving with the lights on bright. Even if the rain falls, I see the road. Tonight, I'm thankful for the church that always seems to brighten the lights for me.