A Special Gift

I picture God sometimes giving us our days in a pretty gift bag. He waits in anticipation for us to open it, saying, “I know you’re going to like this.” My husband Keith recently opened a very fun bag.

This spring a middle-eastern pastor spoke at our church. He lives in a country where it is illegal to convert from Islam – so for his safety I can not say his name or where he is from.

He told story after story of his underground church and our hearts broke to hear about a place where it is a crime worthy of death or prison to worship the God of the Bible.  We hear his stories of faith under fire and we realize how much we take for granted the precious freedom of religion we enjoy in America.

Keith and this man have kept in touch weekly since March. They share their joys and concerns and pray for each other. It’s neat that the hearts of two men who live a world apart have knit together. Though they come from different cultures, they worship the same God. They hoped God would allow their paths to cross in person again some day.

Keith was talking to his friend on our recent vacation. His friend was in America again on business. He asked if there was any way we could get to St. Louis to see him. When Keith said we couldn't, his friend asked where Keith was. 

Keith said, “Colorado.”

His friend said that he would be in Colorado the next day.  He then asked where Keith was in Colorado.

Keith said, “Colorado Springs.”

His friend laughed and said that he would be in Colorado Springs as well. A friend of his had offered to fly our friend and his wife to Colorado for a few days of R & R to regroup physically and emotionally after some stressful situations.

We spent two wonderful hours together the next day, utterly amazed that of all the places in the U.S., we “just happened” to be in the same city on the same day. We live 1200 miles away from Colorado Springs and our friend lives 6,000 miles away.

We think we are in control of our lives and choose where and when we want to go. Then something like this happens and it makes you wonder. 

Proverbs 16:9 - “A man’s heart plans his way, 

but the Lord directs his steps.” (NIV)

I'm linking up with Jennifer for 
  

A Bend in the Road

This week the sky changes as fast and often as a teenage girl’s moods. The weather vacillates between sunshine and rain several times a day, much like our first visit to Ashland four years ago.

Keith had prayed about finding a different church. I liked living in Northwest Iowa near Keith’s family. I enjoyed my church, friends, and job.  I hoped Keith was just going through a phase he'd soon grow out of.

God gave clues to our future but I missed them.

Clue #1 – A plaque on my friend’s wall said, “A bend in the road is not the end of the road...unless you fail to make the turn.”

Clue #2 – A spur-of-the-moment trip we took four years ago to Colorado. For years Keith had wanted to visit Glenwood Springs in winter. We took his Christmas bonus and left before his rational “we should fix the roof” side kicked in.

We spent New Year’s Eve (with single digit outside temps) in Glenwood’s ginormous warm pool with two hundred people. I sat in warm, soothing mineral-laced water and marveled that I was doing something I’d never thought to do, but was enjoying myself immensely.

Clue #3 came four months later when Keith and I visited my family in Oregon. One night we rented a delightful room in Manzanita, a small town on the Oregon coast.

For twenty-five years I had lived an hour from the ocean but had never spent the night there. It never occurred to me to want to. We lived so close that going to the ocean had always been a day trip. 

Manzanita was wonderful and I listened to rhythmic waves crash on shore and marveled that we were doing something we’d never thought to do, but were enjoying ourselves immensely.

I had never thought about visiting Wisconsin. I had never thought about seeing Lake Superior. There are many places I’d like to see someday but Wisconsin wasn’t on the list.

A Wisconsin church approached us. Keith prayed but didn’t feel led in that direction. We both agreed that we didn’t want to live in Wisconsin. He meant to take Wisconsin off his church-match profile, but forgot.

When our present church contacted us, something in the man’s voice caught Keith’s attention. He found this picture on the church’s website.

It looked so pretty, I wanted to sign up immediately. There are better reasons to choose a church than how it looks from the air so we prayed about it.

As Keith talked to their search committee, I wondered about the trees. Keith was born and raised in Iowa and loves the landscape. He likes Grant Wood pictures. He likes open prairies and seeing for miles and miles in any direction. He loves Iowa sunsets. He hated living in Oregon amongst so many trees.

I suggested a trip to Ashland to see if Keith thought he could live there. Four years ago on Memorial Day weekend, we drove eight hours north for a life-changing trip.

We stayed in a charming Bed and Breakfast. We’d never stayed in one before. It had never occurred to us to want to. I marveled that we had done something we’d never thought to do, but had enjoyed ourselves immensely.

I liked the church and people we met. Lake Superior was inviting. It rained off and on the whole time, which showed us what normal spring weather was like. A beautiful spring day would have been deceptive since Ashland’s springs are usually cold and wet.

I thought Keith wouldn’t like the trees. To my surprise, he said he could live there. Wisconsin has more deciduous trees than Oregon, more open spaces, and the huge lake gave Keith a horizon.

He took the job and we transplanted our family 450 miles north. If we were Lego people, God had just picked up our pieces and moved them to another board.

God answered many prayers. We love it here. We like the church, the area, our house, and the weather. Leaving Iowa was hard and I still miss some things, but I’m thankful we moved.

God knew that this small Wisconsin church on the south shore of Lake Superior would be a good fit for a quirky, bearded bi-vocational pastor/plumber from Iowa.

Five years ago I didn’t know this place existed and I often marvel to be doing something I’d never thought to want to do, and yet am enjoying myself immensely. 

Our Glenwood Springs excursion, the Manzanita getaway, and the move to Ashland had in common the element of surprise. Of God doing the unexpected. Of doing something way beyond the realm of our experience. Of being blessed when we least expected it.

A new church friend gave us an antique picture of a curved country road. I got chills when she said, “This picture is like your trip here. You can’t see where the bend leads, but you took the road anyway.”

This picture hangs in our entry way. It’s the first thing we see when we enter the house. I wish I had my Iowa friend’s “Bend in the Road” plaque to hang under this picture.  

I am reminded that God's time is the right time. God has a plan for my life and His plan is always better than mine. Hopefully I’ll remember all this the next time God wants us to go around another bend.


I'm linking up with my friend Jennifer at Getting Down With Jesus 

Faith is...

Linking up today with Lori at Life, Love, and Laughter in a Large Family.

The Day I Hit a UPS Truck

Technically it hit me, but only because I was in the way. 

Last Saturday’s date brings back memories.

 











I’ll never forget April 7th thirteen years ago. We’d been struggling from a job and church change.  Keith’s new job paid less than the old one and Baby #7’s arrival had stretched our budget thin.

Our savings were depleted.

On Monday our accountant said we owed $500 in taxes.

On Tuesday the furnace died.

On Wednesday, April 7, 1999, I wanted to take the kids, then nine months to thirteen years, on a Planetarium field trip ninety miles away. 

When Keith said we couldn’t afford to go, the kids and I emptied piggy banks, redeemed pop cans, and scrounged up money for gas.

After a fun field trip, and a picnic in the park on a gorgeous spring day, we headed home.

We were blissfully minding our own business when a UPS truck crossed the intersection and crashed into the side of my van.

Everything happened fast. Squealing brakes. Smashed metal. Shattered glass. Children crying.

Lani’s carseat, baby and all, flew from the back row and landed sideways between the front seats. Landing sideways protected her from the broken glass that showered her carseat.

Kiah’s door took the brunt of the impact and she hit her head on the seat in front of her. Still clueless about what had just happened, I was thankful that everyone appeared to be okay.

The UPS driver sat in his truck in the middle of the road. Maybe it’s company accident policy or maybe he was mad, but it bothered me that he didn’t get out to see if we were okay.

Rescue personnel finally arrived. I was astonished to learn that I had run a stop sign. The accident was my fault!!

Kiah’s head injury concerned the ER doctor. Brain swelling on her CT scan necessitated an airlift to Sioux Falls.

I had a difficult choice.  Either go with Kiah and leave my six kids, including the baby, with total strangers at a hospital far from home. Or let Kiah, who might be seriously injured, fly without me and call someone to meet her at the hospital.

Since the other kids were okay and Kiah wasn’t, I went with her. Keith drove down to get the kids—1½  hours both ways.

After a twenty minute flight, Kiah checked into a Sioux Falls emergency room. Head injuries can deteriorate fast so they weren’t taking chances. After a few tests, they said we wouldn’t know much until the next day.

That night I laid on the hospital floor in the dark room besides Kiah’s bed and wallowed in misery. Talk about rock bottom.

No savings.

$500 tax bill.

Dead furnace

Wrecked van that collision insurance wouldn’t replace

Kiah’s possible head injury.

My first ever ticket. 
Embarrassment - Do you know anyone else who's collided with a UPS truck?

I wanted to sink through the floor. The future looked bleak. The accident and impact kept looping through my head. I finally drifted off to a fitful sleep.

April 8 - God’s Delivers, Not UPS

God met us in the deep hole I’d helped dig.  

The next day Kiah’s swelling subsided and she only had a concussion.

Our accountant said that he’d made a mistake and we didn’t owe any taxes.

Keith’s co-workers chipped in to buy us a new furnace. Keith’s boss, Dan, sold the furnace at cost.

Dan loaned us an old white station wagon until we could replace our van.

A friend gave us $2500 towards another van.

Dan called the local car dealership and said, “Keith needs a van.”

Rollie, the car salesman said, “A mini-van?”

Dan said, “Nah. You got anything bigger?”

Rollie said, “Funny you should ask, but something came in this morning. We’ve only had five big vans come in during all the years I’ve worked here.”

Dan said, “Can you cut him a deal?”

Rollie needed to cover his costs so sold us a big blue (my favorite color even) Ford eleven-seater passenger van for $2600. Our wrecked van only had eight seatbelts so whenever we traveled together, Andrew sat unbelted on the floor.  The “new” van even had room for friends.

Money trickled in. We received a $100 dollar check in the mail two days after the accident from a friend two states away. She apologized for not sending a gift for Lani’s birth and said to use the money however we wanted.

She hadn’t given our other children gifts, so why Lani? And why then? Lani’s birth was nine months before. The envelope was postmarked April 7, the day of the accident! Before we had a need, God was already moving to meet it.

The next day we found an anonymous envelope in the mailbox with $200. An anonymous donor left $200 for us at a nearby church.

I regretted insisting on the field trip. The whole mess would have been avoided if I’d only listened to my husband. I felt terrible about wrecking the van. I felt horrible that my mistake endangered my children. It could easily have been worse.

I don’t know why God allowed those bad things to happen if he was just going to turn around and fix everything. Seems like it would be easier to not let those things happen in the first place than to have to fix them afterwards. 

But if I hadn’t crashed and hit rock bottom, I would have missed the awesome experience of seeing God meet our needs.  How could I properly appreciate the provision if I didn’t have a need?

God doesn’t always meet needs in such a spectacular fashion but this time He did. We encountered hard times but He carried us through. 

To this day, when we pass a UPS truck on the road, I’ll say, “Aaahhhh!!!” in a loud wobbly voice.  Though they know the story, my youngest three daughters don’t remember the accident.

But I do.

And I’ll never forget the time I learned the hard way about Jehovah-Jireh, My Provider. 

And my God shall supply all your need 

according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.

--Philippians 4:19--

I'm linking up today with Jennifer at Getting Down With Jesus

 

O For Grace To Trust Him More

One Year Ago Today:

My 100th Blog Post coincides with the one year anniversary of our move to Wisconsin. The weather is beautiful today. If only it could have been this nice last year…

I dreaded moving. I was happy where I was. I liked our house, church, friends, and living by family. It’s one thing to say you’re willing to go wherever God tells you to go. It’s another thing entirely when He takes you up on it.

I was thankful for Keith’s new position and if it hadn’t meant leaving family and friends, it would have been ideal.

Moving involved A LOT of work. We spent three months fixing up our old farmhouse to sell. Our thirteen-year-old To Do list finally got done.

Then sorting and packing. Nine people living in one place for 13 years accumulate a lot of stuff. Sort, Toss, Give Away, Clean, Pack, Paint, Go to Bed Dog-tired, Repeat.

Keith left six weeks before we did. The girls and I stayed behind to finish packing and wait for the house to close.

Thursday - Keith’s return to load the moving truck was one of the lowest times in our marriage. Tempers flared and we said things we’re not proud of.

Black Friday. Snow fell all night. Why God decided a snowstorm on moving day would be good for us, I don’t know.

I saw the bleak weather forecast and the icy, windy snowstorm outside and said, “I’m not going.”

Keith had no time margin for bad weather or wimpy wives. He got mad, saying I had to go, as his installation was on Sunday.

I wasn’t trying to be difficult. I was reconciled to moving. I had said my good-byes. But I’m a weenie and driving eight hours in a blowing snowstorm with four kids, one dog, two cats, and a hamster was more than I could handle. I reasoned that I didn’t need to be there for the installation and promised to come when the weather cleared.

He left Friday morning mad and frustrated.

The weather improved a bit Friday afternoon so I decided to leave. I left our property for the last time and cried my eyes out. We had lots of good memories there and it felt like I left a part of us behind.

I picked up the girls in town and we left Iowa with heavy hearts. I summoned all my Big Girl, Be the Adult, I Can Do This molecules and got three hours down the road to Albert Lea, MN before running out of steam. After sundown, blowing snow caused visibility to deteriorate. It was cold and wet and windy and miserable. I didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to keep going.

Bless Comfort Inn Suites in Albert Lea who for a mere $20 extra allowed pets in our room. We slept good and I prayed for courage to keep going.

Saturday - I left the next morning, dreading the next five hours. The weather was still messy and unpleasant. Our big van is like a sail on windy days. The wind blows the van around and it takes extra effort and concentration.

But then I had a new worry. I had never driven through Minneapolis before. The map was confusing. I tried not to panic and resorted to labor breathing to stay calm. How do people drive that every day?

North of Minneapolis we connected with good friends, Jeff and Lori Poppinga, who were coming up for Keith’s installation. I forgot about being a big girl. I swallowed my pride and asked Jeff to drive. He recognized desperation when he saw it and suggested I ride with Lori in their car.

Oh thank-you Lord. Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you. Jeff drove the big van in the icky weather with the four kids, one dog, two cats, and a hamster while Lori drove their car and I melted into the seat and breathed four hundred sighs of relief. Riding with a sympathetic friend was incredibly therapeutic.

We finally arrived in Ashland. A new chapter had begun.

Sunday: Less than 24 hours later, I stood beside Keith during his installation service as the church leaders prayed for us. I was so conflicted. I was happy for Keith but sad for me. These were wonderful people but I wasn’t ready for them. Everything was new and overwhelming. Introverts DO NOT like being up in front of the whole church.

I felt so unworthy. If my behavior the last few days was any indication, I was not mature enough to be a Pastor’s wife.

I liked our new church. I liked it from Day One. What a neat group of people. But I was tied up in emotional knots and could not embrace them with open arms.

I didn’t deserve their kindness. So many new faces, I couldn’t keep track of everyone’s names. Someone suggested we needed name tags so they could remember our names. I thought, “You only have five names to remember. I have a hundred.”

It was God’s mercy that Lori was there with me that first weekend. She was safe and comfortable and familiar and loves me, quirks and all. But Monday morning came all too soon and they had to leave. I cried all over again.

The curse of the cautious is they can’t jump in the pool and start swimming. I poke my little toe in and then my foot, and hopefully soon my calf. When I’m comfortable I’ll go a little farther. There are no guarantees when I’ll go all the way in, and Lord, help me swim when I do.

God, I don’t understand. If moving was a good thing, why was it so hard?

One Year Later –

I like living here. I like my house, church, and friends. I like the area (lots of year round outdoor activities), the weather (easier winters and NO THUNDERSTORMS!), Lake Superior, and clean air. I’m glad we came.

I realize now God wasn’t asking me to give up my old friends. He was asking me to make new ones.

I had been so focused on the hard things, that I overlooked a multitude of good things.

God wanted me to trust Him with moving but I only half did. He knew the move would be hard. Though I still had to do it, He walked beside me, every step of the way.

I am thankful for blessings I couldn’t see a year ago. I’m thankful for a God who knows what’s best for me and cares enough to make me go where I don’t want to go.

I've shared this quote before, but it bears repeating:

The quote in essence says the same thing as: Trust in the Lord with all your hearts and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths. --Proverbs 3:5,6--

When I am weak, He is strong

Anna turned 15 last week.

Birthdays bring back memories. So do birth days. 15 years ago I crossed my fingers, hoping we hadn’t made a big mistake.

After Erica’s birth, I badly ruptured a disc and had back surgery. Both my surgeon and chiropractor advised we not have more children. They said four was a nice number and since pregnancy is hard on the back, we should stop with the healthy children we already had.

I was conflicted. Generally it’s best to follow a doctor’s advice. But was their advice medically valid or did it reflect a personal bias? Keith’s unmarried niece had the same surgery around the same time and her doctor did not tell her to not to have children.

We gambled that the doctors were wrong. I hoped that because God considers children a blessing, He could override a bad back. He designed the whole system so I counted on Him to make it work.

Since I had been led to believe the world would end if I got pregnant again, I religiously followed sound medical pregnancy advice. I ate right, compulsively exercised, and took all reasonable precautions.

We also had another small problem at the time. I didn’t tell my family we were expecting again because my younger brother and his wife were finally expecting after five long infertile years. They had waited so long for their second child, that I wanted all the family limelight to shine on them. They were due in March, we were due in June. I planned to break the news after their baby’s birth.

Which worked great until my parents surprised us with an unexpected visit when John’s baby arrived. My mother stared. speechless as I said, "Oh, by the way. I’m six months pregnant." My parents don’t care how many children we had, but they were shocked that I could be so far along without them knowing. It wasn’t so hard when they live 1,000 miles away.

The downside of this is she asked me for years afterward, "Are you pregnant?" I’d reassure her that I wasn’t pregnant. Then she’d always ask, "You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?" Well, not necessarily.

I went five days late. Two days before her birth, Keith had me shoot baskets for an hour, which at nine months and three days did not feel good. I asked God when Keith gets to heaven to let him be nine months pregnant for one day so he will know what it feels like.

Saturday morning bright and EARLY labor began. You’d think a night owl would have babies at night, but not this time. Things went well and after a four hour labor we welcomed another girl into our family.

The thing is Keith refused to discuss names before our babies arrived. He felt that once the baby was born and we knew if they were a boy or girl, we automatically eliminated fifty percent of the names. Then it’s critically important in his mind, to see the baby first, since as everyone knows, you can’t name a baby until you see what she looks like. He also sincerely believes that names should pass the yelling-out-the-back-door test. If a yelled name didn’t sound right, he checked it off the list.

So we left the hospital without a name. I tried explaining that if we discussed names beforehand like normal people, we would be spared disapproving looks from the hospital staff who looked down their noses and advised that we take care of this as soon as possible.

I suggested Jane because she was born in June, our nurse was Jean, our doctor was John, and Joan took care of our four other children while we were at the hospital. Keith said that Jane was a one syllable name and didn’t balance out Vik. I pointed out that Keith was a one-syllable name but he said he had no control over what his parents named him.

After two days of convoluted negotiations we came up with "Anna Grace". Since Anna’s first and middle names mean the same thing, Keith gave Anna the verse, John 1: 16, which says, "And of His fullness we have all received, and grace upon grace." We liked that the faithful Anna in the New Testament immediately recognized the Messiah.

Were the doctors wrong? Did my exercise and precautions pay off? Did God do a mini-miracle?

Thankfully, my back held up fine through pregnancy and delivery. I’m sure a good diet and exercise didn’t hurt, but I believe God answered our prayers and honored our faith in His word that says children are a blessing. I’m so glad we didn’t listen to my doctors in this instance because we would have missed out on not only Anna, but Amy and Lani as well.

My back will always be weak. I’m aware of it every day. But God strengthened my damaged disc to withstand the rigors of three pregnancies. Things weren't always easy but God met all our needs and then some.

Weak back + strong faith + God’s grace = A beautiful (I'm biased) daughter.

Please leave a comment and share if you had any birth day blessings. When you trusted God and He met you in the delivery room or walked you through a hard spot. I love stories of answered prayer.

(If you'd like to comment about something else, that's okay too.)

Thanks, Irene

The call every mother dreads.

Earlier yesterday evening, I heard a siren in the distance signal an emergency and a life being turned upside down. If I'd lived here longer, I might know who was in trouble. But being new to the area, most likely I don't know them. I often pray when I hear sirens, asking God to be with the sick or injured person and to help the family members involved.

Little did I know, 450 miles away, my daughter had her own sirens.

Yesterday, while we were eating dinner and blissfully unaware, Kiah was in an accident with her boyfriend, Mark. They rolled four times and miraculously weren't seriously injured. Lots of bumps and bruises, lots of aches and pains, but for the most part okay.

Kiah called Irene Gacke who lives close to the crash site. Irene and her husband, Mike, stayed with Kiah and Mark until help arrived. Irene and Mike drove Kiah and Mark to the emergency room and stayed with them for three hours. Then took them out to eat afterwards. Then took them to their house to spend the night because Kiah had a concussion and needed to be observed.

(Picture of Irene and Kiah taken a year ago at Kiah's graduation)

Irene, I can't thank you enough for taking care of my little girl. Thanks for mothering Kiah and treating her like one of your own. Thanks for making sure she was okay. Thanks for being her port in a storm. You went above and beyond the call of duty and I greatly appreciate all you did. May God reward you for your kindess.

I want to shield my children from pain and heartache. To spare them difficulties and trials. I don't want them to learn things the hard way.

I don't like being a long distance mother. If Kiah still lived with us, I could take care of her. I made her favorite cookies today and mailed them to her. What a pitiful, inadequate way to express what's on my heart:

*I'm glad she's okay

*I'm glad it wasn't worse

*I'm glad they wore seatbelts

*I trust God knows what He's doing

*God protected Kiah in the accident. He can help her with the aftermath.

*I wish I could be there for her

*Her life could have ended. Just. Like. That.

*Even though it didn't, possible scenarios keep running through my mind

*Most of all I'm thankful, that if yesterday had been Kiah's last day on earth, I know her eternal affairs are in order. She loves God and has a personal relationship with Jesus. Even though, we'd miss her terribly, I know for a fact that she would have gone to a much better place.

Thank-you Jesus for loving Kiah more than I could ever hope to and for leaving her with us for now. I know someday you'll call her home, but I'm selfish enough to be glad it wasn't yesterday.

A 17-Year-Old Object Lesson

Erica recently turned 17. Her birthday is a yearly reminder of God's faithfulness.

18 years ago we sat in a wobbly boat, hoping it wouldn't tip over.

We'd planned to wait five years before having kids so I could work and save money to put Keith through seminary. God's plan gave us three children in five years and had Keith work three jobs to pay for school and take six years to get a two year degree.

After seminary, Keith wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his life.

He had been an Aviation Ordinance Technician in the Marines and there wasn't a civilian job market for missile loaders. His undergraduate degree in Missions was useful if you're a missionary, which he wasn't. Now he had a seminary degree and our denomination didn't have pastors.

Our boat started to leak. Three months after finishing seminary, Keith developed a hernia. No, no, no - definitely not in the plan. No insurance, no savings. Aagh! We dealt with it right away so Keith could heal, get a job, and get on with life. The surgery went well and the doctor and hospital cut their fees in half and allowed us to make payments. Keith found a job and we held our breath.

Keith's surgery had not come at a good time, but it was God's time.

Two weeks later I discovered I was pregnant. Mayday, Mayday! With no insurance this was not good news. We had already crammed five people into a small two bedroom basement apartment. Was God paying attention? Clearly we weren't in a position to put another child into our crowded boat.

Discouraged and overwhelmed, I attended Ladies Bible Study with a friend. As we discussed Isaac's birth, Romans 4:20-21 jumped off the page. "Yet, with respect to the promise of God, he (Abraham) did not waver in unbelief but grew strong in faith, giving glory to God, and being fully assured that what God had promised, He was able also to perform."

Ah, so mine was not the first problem pregnancy in history. Sarah's problem was old age. Our problem was no money, no insurance, a midlife crisis, and cold deep water under our rocking boat.

I was encouraged that Abraham and Sarah didn't have health insurance and God took care of them. And even though things looked very bleak and scary, I knew God would take care of us. I wanted to grow strong in faith and give glory to God.

Pregnancy may not have come at a good time, but it was God's time.

God helped us through all the uncertainties of the next nine months. He gave us a beautiful healthy baby girl with arresting gray eyes and a full head of hair. He allowed a short calm before the next storm.

Eight weeks after Erica's birth, our boat took on more water. I badly ruptured a disc in my lower back. We finally had health insurance but we also now had four children, ages seven and under. We didn't live near either set of parents. How in the world could I go through back surgery? Who would take care of my kids?

Those verses came back to me. "He did not waver in unbelief...grew strong in faith...being assured...what God has promised, He will also perform."

Why had God heaped so many things on our plate? I didn't appreciate the crash course in character development. We wanted to serve God and instead I was confined to a mattress on the floor and unable to care for my family. Scared of swamping our boat and trying not to waver in unbelief, we prayed and trusted God.

God loved us through His people. Our wonderful church came alongside and went above and beyond the call of duty to help us through the crisis. With generosity and many kindnesses they patched our leaky boat, emptied the water, bought new provisions, and rowed for awhile until we could do it ourselves. Yes, it hurt. Yes, it was hard, but God held our hand through that difficult time.

Back surgery had not come at a good time, but it was God's time.
Matthew 14:22-33 talks about another unsteady boat. Verse 24 says the boat was battered by the waves, for the wind was contrary. Been there, done that. Peter walked on water until seeing the wind, he became frightened and began to sink. Then Peter cried out and Jesus stretched out His hand to him and said, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?" Why indeed?

Every April 23rd, I remember God's goodness and think of lessons learned in rough seas and a battered boat.
1. God's time is the right time.

2. God, who knows and loves me best, has a plan for my life.

3. His plan is always better than mine.

4. No matter how scary or overwhelming things seem, I can be assured that what God has promised He can also perform.

4. Nothing is too difficult for God. Not lack of money, lack of insurance, cramped apartments, mid-life crisis, unexpected pregnancies, or surgeries.

5. God says children are a blessing and they are. If we wait until we can afford them, we would never have them. God says He will provide and He did. Had we been more cautious and "sensible" we wouldn't have had seven children. But we're thankful for every single one and wouldn't trade any of them for all the nice cars, nice houses, and fully funded retirement accounts in the world.

When I celebrate Erica's birth, I also celebrate God's faithfulness, and know that while He never promised smooth sailing, He's promised that if we don't waver in unbelief and let Him steer the boat, we'll stay the course.

Happy Birthday, Erica - What a blessing you are.