JESUS IS BETTER

Come, let us sing to the LORD! 

Let us shout joyfully to the rock of our salvation. 

Let us come to Him with thanksgiving. 

Let us sing psalms of praise to Him.

~Psalm 95:1-2

 

 

If there is one thing I know for certain, it's that God answers prayers!

My oldest daughter and her husband had started talking about babies just before I went off to camp.  They didn't get serious about actually having a baby until the fall of 2012.  

They were pregnant just shortly after they started trying.  We were all so very happy!  The first baby on my side of the family in over 12 years and on my son in law's side of the family it had been several years as well.  That Christmas we hung small little stockings on the fireplace, dreamed about next Christmas with a little one getting so many presents and only wanting to play with the boxes.  Our conversations were all about baby.  One of my favorite pictures at my younger daughter's wedding is of both my daughters just after my youngest daughter kissed her sister's belly.  There is such joy on each of their faces.  My youngest is still kneeling and smiling so big and my oldest has her head thrown back in laughter.  What a great moment for a mother!  My heart swells with joy each time I see this picture.  However, there is also a sadness and hurt that comes along with this picture.  Shortly after the first of the year, just as my daughter was heading into her 2nd trimester, the unthinkable happened.  She miscarried. Heavy hearts and tears were abundant.  Her doctor told her she thought she could go through the course of the miscarriage at home.  Days of pain and sadness were to follow.  

 

My daughter and her husband waited the allotted amount of time given by her physician to try again.  We were all so very excited when she shared the news that they were again expecting!  We all immediately started talking about names and the joy and hopes of a new little family member returned!  At approximately 8 weeks along she started having complications and the doctors informed us that they believed she had another miscarriage.  Stricken with grief once again, we all mourned the loss of another baby.  It is more than heartbreaking for a mother to watch her child go through this.  Especially when this mother has also suffered the loss of babies.  There are so many things that run through your mind when you lose a baby. The what if's, why didn't I's and so on.  Until you or your spouse have sat on that table and listened to the words, I'm so sorry, but....., you have no idea the absolute sadness and loss associated with this.  About 4-6 weeks after this news, my daughter tells me she feels like something isn't right.  She makes a doctor's appointment and to all of our shock and surprise they do an ultrasound and that little heart beat is still bumping along. Talk about a roller coaster!  For 1-2 more weeks (my timeline gets fuzzy here) we celebrate this little life that was thought to be lost and now wasn't for it to only end in a true loss.  On the day she found out that the little heartbeat was no longer beating she had already scheduled an interview.  She
went straight from the ultrasound, the I'm so sorry, but....conversation to her job interview.  My daughter is amazing! She is more than a conqueror!  She is a warrior!  I stand amazed at her and her husband's faith over and over. This time she was far enough along into her 2nd trimester that she would require surgery. She was already in the back being prepped for her procedure when her cell phone rings, it is the lady she had the interview with and she is offered the job.  A little God wink on an otherwise bad day.

It is now September and my youngest daughter has been married 8 1/2 months.  I get a phone call and she is now telling me that she and her husband are expecting a baby in late spring (they are guessing May).  This isn't by any means planned.  I still feel horrible about my reaction to this news.  My first response was "What about E and C?  Do they know?  Oh my goodness."  I absolutely regret these being my first words.  I was over joyed at my core at the thought of my youngest becoming a mommy, but my heart literally ached for my oldest!  I can't quite explain the battle that raged in my heart and mind. So thrilled for one and so heartbroken for the other.  If I could do this conversation over., I so would.  I would have first expressed my joy and excitement for my youngest and her husband and later had a conversation with my oldest and her husband about my grief for them.  I cannot undo my initial reaction and the words that came out of my mouth.  My only peace comes from knowing that conversations that followed were of  excitement and the fact that my youngest daughter knows without a doubt how in love with my grandson I am.

My youngest struggled with this pregnancy and felt so much guilt.  She cried on days where she should have been overwhelmed with joy.  She worried about her sister and brother in law and forgot on many days to be completely consumed with her own well deserved happiness.  I regret the part I played in these struggles by my response to her happy news.  I am grateful that she did learn to find her joy and glow of pregnancy. She is a woman of mercy and much love.  She too is a warrior and a conqueror.

My oldest and her husband handled this like champs.  They were excited about a little one coming to our family.   They celebrated with all of us.  I know that in deepest parts of their hearts and when alone they must have mourned their losses over again and must have felt the littlest bits of grief and questioned why.

During my youngest's 3rd trimester, my oldest once again became pregnant.  With caution and faith we all were thankful.  They would hold off on announcing this pregnancy until after the 2nd trimester and reports from the doctor were positive.  Just a few days after my youngest gave birth, my oldest and her husband announced to the world via facebook that they were expecting.  So much celebration.  So much gratitude.  So much to look forward to.  The. very.  next.  day. tragedy strikes again.  Pains and bleeding lead to an ultrasound which leads to that dreadful conversation once again.

Once again she is scheduled for a surgery due to the size of the baby and the length of the pregnancy.  She is set for her procedure on the 29th of May, just 7 days after her nephew was born.  My family is that family that ALL shows up when someone is having surgery or in the hospital.  Sometimes I feel a little self-conscience about the number of people we bring to a waiting room, but I honestly wouldn't have it any other  way.  So, my daughter goes back and the rest of us are sitting in the tucked away corner of the waiting room of the surgicneter.    We are next to what I assume is the surgicenter nurse managers office.  It is a busy little office, people in scrubs are in and out.  Sometimes they bring stuff into the office and sometimes they leave with a stack of papers.  We have commented on how busy that poor manager is.  My daughter has been in surgery for about 20 minutes when a nurse or scrub tech bursts through the door and barrels into the manager's office.  She had a look of sheer terror on her face.  She was white as a ghost.  You could most definitely tell something was not right.  Little did any of us know that the look of terror was regarding my daughter.  Just a couple of minutes later my son-in-law and I are called into a small room and we are informed by a nurse that their has been a complication in my daughter's surgery.  Her iliac artery has been nicked and she has lost 1/3 of the blood in her body.  We are told that several surgeons have been called and the first one to arrive "will save her life."  I.  have.. never.. been.. so scared.  in my entire life.  I begged the nurse to tell me everything was going to be okay.  I begged her to give me a glimmer of hope.  I begged her to look me in the eyes and give me a hint of peace.  The best she could offer was to pray with us.  I took it!  We prayed for everyone involved.  Prayed for my daughter from the tip of her head to the tips of her toes and everything in between.

Throughout all the pregnancies many prayers have been said.  Many requests for favor have been solicited.  Many desperate prayers.  But none of these prayers compared to the prayers I and my family said that day.

A surgeon and his team of 5 bolt through the front doors of the surgicenter carrying all kinds of gear.  I know this is the team that with God's favor, grace and mercy will save my daughter.  I still don't know why they came through the front doors and not the doctor/staff entrance.  I am grateful I saw their arrival.  It seemed like hours had passed from the time we were informed of this horrible news until this team walked through the door.  In reality it was only 27 minutes. Seeing them gave me peace.  I swear I feel like they were wearing capes and they sort of flew in the doors.  I knew God was already in the room with my daughter and I believed with everything I had that she would be okay. However, my mind kept going to places I don't care to say.  Dark and scary places.  Prayers would settle my mind for a minute and then the enemy would whisper devastating thoughts to me.  GET.  thee.  BEHIND.  ME. satan!  Not today!  Today will have a happy ending!

Approximately a half hour later, both the original physician and the super-hero surgeon meet us in the small room which is now overflowing with family, pastors and friends to tell us that they have stopped the bleeding and that she will need to ride in an ambulance to the hospital and have a stay in surgical icu, but they honestly believe she will make a full recovery.  The poor surgeon that had nicked her artery was so distraught and full of apologies.  My heart hurt for her.  She told us she had been in practice for 30 years and nothing like this had ever happened to her before.  She cried with us.  She prayed with us.  She celebrated God's favor in sparing my daughter's life with us.  The super-hero surgeon with his cape (OR coat) waving in the wind (breeze from the ac) was just as attentive to our fears, sorrow and gratefulness.  He too stood in the circle as we lifted up prayers of thanks and continued healing. My daughter will later tell me that she had a premonition that something was going to happen during the procedure.

This momma's heart had about all it could take.  I wanted so badly for my oldest and her hubby to be parents, but I was so afraid.  They too had felt the weight of all of this and decided to take a little breather and just seek God and see what He had to tell them about their future as parents.  In the interim they are amazing with their nephew.  You can just see the love they have for him.  Their joy is real and sincere.  It is God's grace.  I believe God sent this sweet boy to our family for many reasons.  One of those reasons was to comfort his grieving Aunt and Uncle.  God's grace is just so sweet and perfect.

One Sunday afternoon  in early September after church, my daughter and son-in-law are sort of arguing back and forth about whether they should try again for a baby or if maybe adoption is what they are called to do.  They decide to pray about it and my son-in-law tells my daughter "I just wish I could hear God's voice and know exactly what He wants us to do!"

That night as my son-in-law climbs into bed he grabs his devotional.  The title for that night's study is 'Deciphering God's Voice'.  It is the story of Samuel and Eli.

"And the Lord called Samuel again the third time. And he he arose and

went to Eli and said, "here I am, for you called me." Then Eli perceived 

that the Lord was calling the boy.  Therefore Eli said to Samuel, "Go, lie 

down, and if he calls you, you shall say, 'Speak, Lord, for your servant

hears.'"  So Samuel went and lay down in his place. 

And the Lord came and stood, calling as at other times, "Samuel! Samuel!"

And Samuel said, "Speak, for  your servant hears."

~1 Samuel 3:8-10

That night as they prayed, they did hear the Lord.  They heard adoption was a course He had planned for them.  They knew in an instant that a son would be named Eli.

Just a couple of short weeks later I have told anyone that would listen about their plans to adopt.  I am sitting in the drive thru line at Chick Fil A and my phone rings.  It is a good friend that I connected with in that warehouse painting furniture.  She tells me that a friend of hers that she had told our story to has called her.  This friend's daughter has a friend on facebook that has just posted she is needing to find an adoptive family for the baby she is pregnant with.  A baby that is due the first of October.  I call my daughter and tell her this news.  She tells her hubby.  An hour later we meet at my friend's house to meet this mother.  She explains to us that her situation has changed very drastically over the last several days and the baby's father has left her with no money and no way to raise a second child.  She says she wants to give her baby to my daughter and son-in-law.  Oh my goodness!  That was fast!  We are talking and I ask about a name.  They said it would be Eli.  The pregnant girl sitting across from us bursts into tears and shows us a facebook post from several weeks prior.  She had planned to name this baby Eli.  

We work out some details and obtain a lawyer.  We cover her expenses and pay all of her back rent and such.  We take this young woman and her 4 year old daughter under our wings as we prepare for the arrival of the baby.  My daughter and I go to the remaining doctor's appointments.  We hear the heartbeat, we are given all the previous ultrasound pictures.  Our excitement is over the top.  At the last appointment before Eli is born, a date is set for induction.  The night before induction this young woman spends the night at my house.  The next morning we arrive at the hospital and get settled into the delivery room.  The lobby is filled with about 15 family members anxiously awaiting the birth of this sweet child.  14 hours later this precious baby is born, my son-in-law cuts the cord and the baby is immediately placed in my daughter's arms and skin to skin is initiated.  It was a beautiful moment for all of us, but a sad and hard moment for this young woman.  My family is escorted to a nearby room where everyone can relish in this birth and take turns holding this sweet boy.  The smiles are contagious and are from ear to ear. I stay with the young woman that just spent the last 9 months carrying this child.  

The next day she is released from the hospital.  Before her departure, she signs guardianship papers for my daughter and her hubby.  They place their names on the birth certificate. 

At last, there is a child in their arms.  

When a mother gives birth and decides to give her child up for adoption, there is a 48 hour waiting period before she can terminate her rights.  43 hours into the 48 hour waiting period, I get a call from the birth mother.  "I can't do it!  I need him back!  Now!" is all she said to me.  This.  this is my worst day.  Oh my goodness, I did not do well!  I lost it.  Completely and totally lost it.  I was so angry at her, so angry at God. So angry.  So angry.  "Why God, WHY?????!!!????  We did not have to be sad today!  Why did you bring this baby to us, just to yank him away?  WHY?" I am having a melt down, screaming these things into the atmosphere in my office.  It is not pretty.  It is not full of faith.  It is not the least bit who I am called to be.  It is not at all soft or quiet.  It is blood curdling screams of anguish and and uncontrollable grief.  What am I going to tell these new parents that have already been through so very much?  How can this mother's heart sit there and watch the faces of joy turn to sadness.  

I call my pastor who is also my friend.  He and his wife have formed relationship with this birth mother.  Maybe they can talk some sense into her.  I go to the Dream Center and I am still having a nervous breakdown.  I have not yet told my daughter or her husband of this news.  I am trying to figure out a way for this not to be true.  For this not to be something we have to walk through.  My pastor's wife, my dear friend, is in the office talking to this woman that is tearing my world apart. My pastor is trying his best to console me.  It is not working!  He is reminding me of all that God has done for me and my family. He tells me "This world is not always good, but God is!  Remember that."  He is doing his best to get me into some kind of reasonable thinking.  He reminds me that I need to tell my daughter and son-in-law.  All I can see is tragedy.  I can't fathom how in this world they will be able to bear this news.  I can't stomach the looks on their faces as they fall apart.  I can't get a grip on us handing that baby back to it's birth mother.  

My pastor and his wife agree to go with me to my daughter's house and break the news.  I have called  an adoption agency that our church has formed a relationship with.  We are not using them for this adoption, but I feel like we need to make this transaction at their place of business.  Somewhere that is equipped to handle these things.  They agree. 

My daughter and her husband are literally just pulling into their driveway from the hospital about to take this baby into his new home for the first time as we pull in behind them.  We go inside and I do my best to hold it together and spit the words out.  They immediately cry.  Within just a few seconds my son-in-law is on his knees and fumbling with his phone.  He grabs my daughter into the floor with him.  They cling to the baby and to each other and he puts on worship music.  I am in complete and utter shock and awe.  The song JESUS IS BETTER is blasting from his iphone.  They are on their knees praising God.  They are in such a tight embrace there is literally no space between them and that sweet baby.  

This is nothing like I had pictured in my head!  This is not the things nightmares are made of.  This is a picture of unconditional love.  A picture of faith like I have never seen.  It is beautiful, yet heart breaking.  My words do not do this moment justice.   

A couple of hours later we are on the lawn of the adoption agency as the birth mother is in talking to the counselor.  The birth mother's mother comes over and tries to touch my daughter and say something to her.  Her husband quickly pulls her into his arms and tells this woman to stay away.  He tells us that he had an uncontrollable urge to protect her from this woman.  This woman literally flees to a corner and cowers there for several minutes until her daughter emerges from the office.

It is our turn to go in.  We carry the baby in with us.  The adoption attorney and founder of this agency and her assistant are sitting at a table waiting for us.  They confirm the news that the birth mother wants her baby back.  They call the birth mother in and my son-in-law reluctantly hands the baby to her.

I mean it when I say, this was my worst day.  It had beautiful moments of courage and faith, but it was my worst day.

The next day reality sets in and things are hard.  To me this was worse than a miscarriage.  Please don't get me wrong, miscarriage is loss and it hurts deep and long.  But this.  This was almost harder as there was still a baby.  A baby that was being taken from our arms.  A baby with a lifetime ahead of him.  A baby that will most likely never know how much this other family loved him.
My daughter is clinging to her faith and her husband is right beside her proclaiming God's goodness.  They tell us that they believe they were meant to be this baby's parents, if only for 43 hours.  They were called for whatever reason.  The prayers, the words spoken, the love, whatever the reason he was meant to be theirs if only for a moment. Wow.  Just, wow!  So mature to be so young.  So grounded and strong in their faith.

I am on the phone with my friend, the genius that came up with the cookie card, and I am still sobbing and mourning.  I am not being as strong as my children.  I am telling her that I love God and I know He is real, but I don't want to do this!  I don't want to walk through this.  I don't want to be sad.  We didn't have to be sad.  I go on and on.  I tell her that the bible is full of horror stories.  Yes, stories of horrible trials and hardship.  Yes, God was full of redemption and restoration  ......but these stories are the stories of horror.  Whine, whine, whine.  Just then my phone buzzes.  It is a text from a number that is not stored in my contacts.  I open it and it is simply a bible verse.  Matthew 8:23-26.  As you might recall in my previous post this is the verse that says "Oh ye of little faith, why are you so afraid?"  It goes on to say that Jesus told the waves and the winds to BE STILL.  Oh my goodness! God sure does have a way of sending subtle reminders of His grace and mercy. A random person sending words straight from heaven to my phone.  I have since found out who this person is, but they are still in my phone contacts as Random Verse.

OKay, Lisa get it together.  You know who God is!  You know that He is a good God!  You have taken Him with you on many journies and He has never forsaken you, He has never left you.

I call to check on my daughter and son-in-law.  Once again they astound me with their faith.  They have suggested that we have a night of worship.  A night to thank God for the moments we spent with this little baby.  A night to continue to ask for a forever child.  A night to have friends and family gather to honor our God.  Simply, to praise Him in this storm.

We had the night of worship and it was beautiful.  There were about 45 of us gathered at the Dream Center.  45 tired, weary, hurting souls crying out to our King.  Thanking Him for all He has done for us and yet again boldly approaching His throne of Grace and asking.

After this night, my soul found complete rest and peace in this situation.  Hope was restored and expectations were once again set towards a forever child.

It was decided that my daughter and her sweet husband would go through an adoption agency this time.  This meant a price tag of $35.000.00. How in the world are we going to come up with $35,000.00?  Cookies!  Once again, our little in home bakery would be put to good use.  We baked and baked cookies.  We put our story out on social media. We very quickly raised the first $11,000.00 which put them on a matching list.  We would have a few friends, family and strangers donate money to our cause, but the majority (over 95% ) of this $35,000.00 was raised by selling cookies.

Once they were on a matching list it didn't take long until a match was made.  There were a lot of concerns with this match.  She was a prostitute, a drug user and was wishy washy in whether or not she really wanted to put this baby up for adoption.  I think deep down we all had reservations, but we so desperately wanted a baby that we were afraid for them to say no.  Lots of prayers went into this relationship.  Things were getting a little dicier as the birth mother was no longer allowing my daughter to attend doctor appointments.  She was making more and more comments about not giving the baby up.  My daughter and her husband set up a meeting with her and the adoption agency counselor to try to come to an agreement.  It was a Wednesday evening, after church we all met at their house to discuss what they had learned during the meeting and to see what decisions they were going to make.  Should they continue this relationship and just hope and pray that it all works out? Should they terminate this relationship and be put back on the matching list?  What was God telling them?  We left that night without any solid answers.  Still uncertain as to what God had planned.

That night when I got home, I earnestly prayed that if this wasn't the baby for them that God would just send them a baby.  I wanted to pick up the phone and have someone on the other end tell me that there was a baby and would my kids be interested in being it's parents.  Bold and crazy prayer.  A prayer that was earnest.  I had no idea that my youngest daughter prayed this exact same (almost word for word) prayer that Wednesday night.

I am pulling into the church parking lot around 7:45 the following morning.  Still praying that God will just send us a baby.  My phone rings.  It is a sweet, sweet friend.  A friend that I have because I had 500 hours of community service to do that led me to the Dream Center.  Which led me to a warehouse night after night, where this sweet friend would come from time to time.  A friend that would become even closer once I got the job at the church, because she would come see me each Thursday to turn in receipts from the Wednesday night meals she would prepare for the youth of this church.

To be completely candid, my first thought when I saw her number pop up on my screen was "Wow!  She is calling early today.  I am not even in the building yet."  When I answer she is telling me that there is a baby that was born the night before.  A baby that was born in a bathtub  a few hours earlier. A young, sweet girl that knew God's plans for this baby was adoption had reached out and by God's grace was connected to MY friend. WAIT......am I dreaming or is this real life?  She is asking if my kids are interested in being this sweet, sweet, precious baby boy's parents?  I say "YES!  Of course!"  Then I realize, I might better ask them.  I call my daughter and she immediately knows something is up.  I tell her this crazy, almost unbelievable, miraculous story. She is beyond elated and calls her hubby.  20 minutes later this little boy, with the God given name of Eli, is in our arms.  He has been a perfect part of our family for a year and a half now.  He is just meant for our family.  We love the woman that gave birth to  him all on her own.  We love her not only for this precious gift of Eli, but for just who she is.  She and her best friend are our friends.  They are people we cherish.  People we love and that love us.  God's timing is always perfect.  His grace is endless and beutiful.

Redemption and Restoration are so abundant in our story.

The first woman that took the baby back has now married that baby's father and they are doing well.

We of course are so in love with Eli and like I said, he is the perfect fit for our family.
The woman that bravely carried and delivered him all by herself in a bathtub has told us that she made a mistake one night, but by God's redeeming grace, Eli is not a mistake.  She knows her decision was right.  As hard as it is some days, she without a doubt is confident that her decision was God ordained.  I know that God has amazing plans for her.  She is brave and courageous.

Through the sale of over 27,000 cookies for adoption expenses, it was possible for  a little bakery to become so popular that we were able to open  in a storefront just a week before Eli's final adoption.  This bakery, Baked Bliss, founded in a dream while I was at camp is still contributing to stories of redemption and restoration.  These are stories for another day.

Keep praying, He is listening.
Your answers will come.
This world is not always good, but God is.

PENNIES FROM HEAVEN

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,

whenever you face trials of many kinds 

~James 1:2

 As I am nearing the end of my time at camp, I reflect on everything that has happened over the last year and a half.  So many terrifying, horrible, devastating, life altering things have happened; however, just as many wonderful, miraculous, glorious, life changing things have happened.  Sure, I have lost jobs, a husband, all the money I had to my name, I had been arrested and sent to camp and so on.  I also have met amazing women, had God audibly speak to me, had God supernaturally move a wash rag at my request and on and on and on.

I haven't yet told you about the miracle of pennies.

When I was a young girl my maternal grandfather was very ill and spent a lot of time at the M. D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston.  One day when my momma, my sister and I were walking in, my momma found a penny.  She told us girls with great excitement "Oh look, it's a penny!"  We looked at her like she was a bit crazy, even at a young age we knew that pennies held little monetary value.  She went on to explain "Whenever I find a penny, I always remember that it says In God We Trust.  This is like a little wink from heaven.  It makes me remember to trust God in all things.  It reminds me that He is right here with us, no matter what is going on."  She picked the penny up and tucked it in her shoe.  That conversation has stuck with me all these years.  I can picture exactly where we were and the shoes she tucked the penny into.  I have found lots of pennies over the years and the majority of the time I find them in times when I need a wink from heaven, a gentle reminder that God is near and I should trust Him.  My momma tucked hers into her shoe, but I always tuck mine in my bra, right close to my heart.

Throughout the 548 days from that horrible, rotten, no good day in February 2011 to the sweet day in September 2012 when I was released from camp I found exactly 594 pennies. That is more than a penny a day (just in case you couldn't do the math on your own)  How do I know how many I found you might wonder?  Well, it is because on the that dreadful day in February, I found 2 pennies and I knew they were winks from God and I started dropping each penny found in a jar.

On the day in February, I found a penny in the parking lot as I was dragging my broken heart and all my personal belongings from my office to the car.  I then found another penny when I was walking into my best friends house.  Shortly after that day, I was going to Boulder to visit my daughter for the weekend.  It was a 3 hour drive through the mountains and I had lots of time in the car with just me and God.  We talked almost the whole way there.  I was asking Him to give me direction on whether or not to move back to Texas, I was asking for help in finding a job, thanking Him for letting me survive the last week or so, thanking Him for my support system, and b.e.g.g.i.n.g. Him to help me put my life back together.  Just as I had finished a rather long begging session, a penny rolled right out of my air conditioner vent and smack into my cup of tea in the cup holder.   It was so crazy!  The rest of the trip was spent singing His praises at the top of my lungs!  That day I started listening to a Christian radio station.  For the last 5 1/2 years, I almost only listen to Christian music of some form or another.  I listen to other music intermittently, but I always go back to worship music. The day on the sky bridge when I got the call from the detective, I found a penny in the elevator.  Every single time I went to court, I found a penny.  I found pennies everywhere I went. I even found a penny at camp.  I am certain a deputy must have dropped it. I found this on the day I was pulled out of my cell to be informed that my youngest daughter was in the emergency room with internal bleeding.  As a momma, it doesn't matter how old your children are, when something is wrong with them you are supposed to be there for them.  It was devastating and I was grieving.  I was quietly praying in the classroom and with my head still bowed I opened my eyes.  There it was, a shiny penny just under the book shelf.  Praise God my daughter was fine, but it was tragic to be so far away and unable to talk to her for several more hours. That penny was just a subtle reminder that God was near and I needed to trust Him.  I am a rule follower, but I broke a no contraband rule and carried that penny next to my heart the rest of the time I was there.

God winks of all sorts saw me through my 30 days at camp.

I forgot to tell you in my sentencing day post that I was also sentenced to 500 hours of community service.  That was a lot of hours!  On my first visit to the probation office in October I was sent to the community service desk. A desk in the basement surrounded by plants.  The woman manning the desk was soft spoken and non-judgmental. I was handed a pretty large stack of xeroxed copies of places I could go and do community service.  I read through all of them.  I had them spread out from one end of my dining room table to the other.  I was praying about where I should go.  I wanted a place where I felt safe.  A place where not only could I get my hours done, but I could also make a difference. I left all of these options on the dining room table as it was overwhelming to choose.  I prayed about it and the next morning when I went to the table to read them all again, someone had dropped a Wal-Mart receipt, a dollar bill, 2 dimes and 3 pennies on the table.  All 3 pennies were sitting on the brochure for the Lubbock Dream Center and all the other items were on another brochure.  Well, that made my decision easy!  The Dream Center it was!

With a great deal of embarrassment, I called the Dream Center and explained that I had 500 hours of community service to do and I would like to do it with them.  The girl that answered the phone was astonished at the number of hours I had to do, but cheerfully told me that I could come in anytime between the hours of 10:00 a.m. and 4:00 p.m. Monday - Thursday and they would put me to work.

The next morning I was there just a few minutes before 10:00 a.m. and I was welcomed by the campus pastor and the compassion ministry coordinator.  They were having a big event the next day and I was assigned to cleaning toilets, setting up tables, hanging flags from various countries around the sanctuary that subbed as an event room and prepping things in the kitchen for the next day.  During the course of the day it was mentioned that they didn't know exactly what they were going to do for dessert.  They had several volunteers lined up to fix and serve the actual meal, but no idea what they were going to do for dessert.  The Holy Spirit promptly reminded me that God had shown me that I was going to have a bakery.  I spoke up and said that my girls and I had an in home bakery and we would be happy to bake desserts for them.  I wouldn't charge them if they would count my work time towards my community service hours.  It was a win-win for all of us.  This was the first order for Baked Bliss. The chocolate cakes we made that day were a hit and that entire day I worked the event.  I got to sit in as the event was going on.  It was a luncheon about missions.  That explains the flags I hung the day before.  I was in such awe of the speakers.  They told stories of giving up so much to serve God throughout the nations.  I quickly realized my little time away from my family at camp sharing about Jesus while I was there, was nothing in comparison to the things these people were doing.  On this day, my heart grew for the nations and the missionaries that serve the nations. For the first time in my life I really understood what being a missionary was about.  The sacrifices, the hardships, the glory, the honor.  All of it.  

I went to the Dream Center the next morning just as the doors were opened and I was again given toilet cleaning duties and additional chores in the clothing closet, then the food pantry.  The people of the Dream Center are kind and encouraging.  I am grateful this is where I chose.  Thank you God for pointing me to the Dream Center.

After a couple of weeks working from 10:00 a.m. - 4:00 p.m. Monday through Thursday I have gotten to know the staff and they have gotten to know a little about me and my story.  The Compassion Ministry Coordinator has sat with me during lunch for several days.  She and I have talked about my previous career.  She asks if I have any experience with spreadsheets and various other administrative things.  I tell her yes, I do! The next day she relieves me of my toilet cleaning duties and gives me tasks in her office.

I am treating my community service as a job.  My parents and I have discussed the enormous amount of hours I need to complete and they have given me the opportunity to focus on those hours, do baking when I can and they will help me with my bills.  Once my community service hours are done, then I can look for a job.

From October to February, I work all day Monday - Thursday every single week. In November there is a Turkey Giveaway at the Dream Center.  There is a television station that is going to run a story about the Dream Center and the giveaway and they will be filming from 5:00 a.m. - 7:30 a.m.  My supervisor at the DC (Dream Center) asks if she could purchase some cinnamon rolls from my little home bakery.  Of course I said yes.  My cinnamon rolls are huge and have a secret ingredient of mashed potatoes.  They always receive rave reviews.  I am delighted to do this for the DC and to make a little extra money.  We offer the reporter a cinnamon roll during a break and she loves them.  In the next segment she highlights the cinnamon rolls and gives Baked Bliss a shout out.  The next week my Facebook is flooded with requests for treats for Thanksgiving.  It was amazing!  On this same morning I meet the fundraising coordinator for the DC.  She and I visit and she tells me about a project called Resurrection Funky Junk that raises money for the DC.  She explains that they have a warehouse where they repurpose furniture, jewelry, clothing and all sorts of things.  She invites me to help.  I am excited and jump at the opportunity.

My evenings are filled with painting at this warehouse.  I become good friends with the ladies that come to paint each night.  These ladies have since become my dear friends. In fact we meet each week for bible study, we travel together, we do life together.  I discover that Resurrection Funky Junk also has vendors that sell their goods at an annual event.  I am invited to sell cookies at the event.  Once again, my business is given a little boost.

My little bakery is doing okay, but it is not enough to pay all my bills.  My parents are having to supplement my income each and every month.  I set a date in my mind where I am not going to ask them for any more money.  I don't have a job and I still have a bit of community service hours to finish, but I am trusting in the Lord to provide.  It is the week before my 'I'm not asking again' deadline and I am significantly short on funds to cover all of my bills.  I had bills that I created when I was making a very large salary and they didn't just go away because I no longer had that job.  I am at the warehouse painting and I ask the ladies to pray for provision.  My dear friend suggests that I create a cookie card.  This card will be the cost of 10 dozen cookies, but the buyer will actually receive 12 dozen cookies.  It is a brilliant idea.  I have 1 week to sell enough of these cards to cover my expenses and not have to ask my parents for money.  We put the word out.  Within 4 days, I have sold enough cards to not only cover my current month's expenses, but to cover the following month as well.  I am still in awe of God's provisions.

February rolls around and I have completed my 500 hours.  The DC had become like a second home to me and I was truly going to miss being there each day.  On my very last day, my supervisor asks me if I would be interested in working for the DC part time.  My heart skipped at least 10 beats! Yes! Yes! I would be honored!  The job will be for 20 hours per week and will pay just over minimum wage.  I am ecstatic!  I have never been so happy to be offered a job.  God was sending pennies from heaven in the form of a job and a paycheck!

I work from February to July at the DC.  I am putting in my 20 hours, volunteering additional hours and baking as much as possible.  It is enough to cover my bills.  It is not giving me the lifestyle I had previously, but it is giving me freedom and integrity.

The DC is owned by a local church.  In July I am told of a full time job opening at the church.  It is in the finance department.  God has given me such a gift when it comes to accounting.  I love working with numbers.  I don't see any way possible that I could ever get this job considering everything that had happened in my life.  My supervisor encourages me to go for it.  She speaks to the leadership at the church and tells them a bit of my story.  I am asked to come in for an interview and to elaborate on exactly what had happened.  I am a mess.  I am so nervous.  At this point, it was still difficult to tell my story.  There was so much shame attached to it.  So much failure and loss.  I nervously sat on the big couch in the Executive Pastor's office as he and 4 others asked me questions about my skills and about my past.  I told them everything.  I cried a lot.  First time I had ever cried in a job interview.  Surely, that was not a good thing to do.  They were all attentive and compassionate.  They knew of God's mercy, grace and restoration and even though the enemy had filled me with shame and anxiety, they comforted me and encouraged me.  They asked for bits and pieces of the discovery, they called my ex-boss and spoke to him about every detail he had read, heard, seen during my ordeal. Verified that I had been open and honest with him about my legal woes.  Verified my story on why I no longer had a job there.  It took several weeks for a decision to be made.  There were others who needed to know my story and give their opinions.  Prayers needed to be said and decernment was needed.  Glory be to God from whom all blessings flow!  i got the job.  What a blessing!

Pennies are tangible God winks.
Praise God for divine appointments!
God is without a doubt our provider!

THE BEAUTY AND GRACE OF LETTER WRITING

Therefore encourage one another and build one another up,

 just as you are doing.  

1 Thessalonians 5:11

I will leave you for today with some of the sweet letters from my friends. I have asked permission to share these, because they are so powerful and they need to be shared.  Letters that show what God can do, if you just take Him with you no matter where you go.