Gosh, I'm so excited!

I'll be in Appalachia from May 21st - August 8th with Adventures In Missions.  I'll be going as a staff member and my specific role will be as the worship leader.  Every week a new group of people will come into the ministry site (Appalachia) on a short-term mission trip.  I'll be leading them in prayer and worship daily as well as being engaged in the ministry work that they're doing.   It's an amazing opportunity to serve the people of this area in such capacities as youth ministry, nursing home visitation, doing home repairs and just serving and loving on people.   You don't have to travel across an ocean to make a life-altering impact on someone's life and I'm excited about the opportunity to serve this summer!!!!

I'm  also really grateful for this 

Sometimes it comes as a passing breeze that I immediately dismiss without thought.

Other times, it's so overwhelming I'm paralyzed and unable to process or move forward.

::the stench of disbelief::

Things really straightened out right at the last second...was that really an answer to prayer?

Could God really use you?

That person was healed...were they really ever sick?

That person has gone through hell and back...did they really bring it on themselves?

Smell that?

And boy does Satan love to get us knee-deep in it.

**(see bottom for disclaimer if you're about to freak about all questions being from the Enemy).

Maybe our problem doesn't lie in what we believe we're capable of

what we understand 

                               what we believe to be impossible

If you really are the Messiah...

If you really are God...

If there really are things such as faith, hope and LOVE...

Oh, the stench of my disbelief.

I have an exciting announcement that I will share with you all soon!  
Feel free to send me your address as a comment (either directly on the blog or on the left of the homepage) if you'd like to get my Spring newsletter.  

***(Asking questions isn't bad.  It's healthy.  God isn't playing hide and go seek...He desires to reveal Himself.  I'm not about to tackle discernment and checking motives in this blog  - but I will say that retracing the fruit of our actions will always indicate the author of those questions)***

Read the first part of Wanda's story here.

****

For the past week or so, I've felt like God has been giving me a new song to write. First a few chords came to mind...a melody of sorts. Then a few lyrics. “Where do we go from here?” I've mulled over them and prayed over them and tried to make something happen. That's a little habit of mine. I like to fix things. I wanted to be very intentional with Wanda and just LISTEN. Every ounce of my heart knew that she didn't need to be preached at. She didn't need "fixing".  She just needed some love.

Wanda asked me what my story was (this made me smile) and I shared some of the crappy things that I've been through. Just the crappy stuff. She just kept shaking her head when I was finished. She asked me, “I'm sorry that your life has been so horrible...I feel like God isn't really good at all.”

I smiled and said, “Wanda, I only told you about the hard times or bad things I've encountered. It took me ten minutes. If I were to tell you all the amazing things in my life or all the times where God provided at the last second or someone encouraged me RIGHT when I needed it...we'd have to drive to the tip of Canada and back. The truth is – God IS good. And He's good all the time. He's willing to wade through the garbage in our lives to find the treasure. I know that some times it can FEEL like God's forgotten us or doesn't even know we're here – but it's not truth. He's not only always willing to LISTEN to us, but He actually desires to speak to us.”  I shared some of the miracles that God has done in my life and she was shocked.

I pulled into a McDonald's and asked Wanda if I could pray with her. I kept feeling God tug at my heart concerning how Wanda viewed herself. I wasn't totally positive if God was telling this or if common sense says, “she's been through a lot – she probably struggles with not knowing her value.”


Either way, I didn't want to ignore the elephant on my heart.  Wanda told me that she would be okay with me praying for her and asked me if she would need to give me some sort of money afterwards like when she got the blessing paper from the church she went to once.. My instinct was to make some joke, but I figured I'd keep the humor to myself and just smiled and said, “heck no.”

While I was praying for Wanda, God downloaded this illustration in my mind – Wanda was standing next to a row of candles and as she walked forward, they fell over and burned out. She was paralyzed by fear and couldn't move forward. She didn't move at all. There were more candles lined up beside her, unlit. She wouldn't move though. When she finally moved forward, not only did the candles not fall but they actually LIT as she passed them. This little picture made no sense to me whatsoever. And I wanted to be very careful about how I shared this with my road trip buddy - I didn't want to freak her out too much.
 

So, I just said – “Hey, when we were praying I kept seeing a little picture in my mind”

She said, “Like a movie?!”

I smiled and said, “Exactly.”

I shared it with her, completely EXPECTING her to just listen and then say - “what the heck does that mean.” Then, of course – I would have to admit that I had no clue whatsoever.

Then the weirdest thing happened. Wanda started crying. And not just like the pretty little tear down the cheek. We're talking chin shaking, face twitching, snot falling cry.

I felt a little unprepared for this response...so I did the only thing I could think to do – I put my hand on her shoulder and just sat with her.

She calmed down after a few minutes and I asked her what she was thinking.  She told me that when she was younger, she lived with her parents in a mobile home. One day when she was playing, she knocked over a display of candles that her mom had kept on the TV stand. She was scared of getting in trouble and ran to her room. By this point, the candles had caught the drapes on fire and within minutes – the whole trailer was up in flames. She not only felt responsible – she was told she was responsible for the loss her parents were feeling. Wanda told me that within a week, she was put into foster care because her parents couldn't provide for her.

Wow. Wow. Wow. Wow. Wow. Wow. Wow.

That was the only thing running through my mind.

Her response was amazing - “Did God actually TELL you about that?!”

“Um. Well. Um. Yeah.  I  think God wants you to know...and I mean, REALLY know that those things that happened were NOT an indication of your value or your worth. When you accept HIS love and HIS view of who you are....you're going to be able to move forward. And as you move forward – those candles are going to light. That means...your life is going to bring hope to other people and empower them to feel God's love. Because Wanda, He loves you. He really, really loves you. And when you love someone you can't help but GIVE to them. He loves you so much that He was willing to GIVE His son to pay for OUR mistakes. That way we could have a relationship with Him and not have to pay Him back with anything or earn something. He gave it FREELY. We just have to accept it and give back everything we have in return. Our hurt, our disappointments, our regret, our fear, our mistakes, our hope, our joy, our life and take everything He has in exchange - FREEDOM"

We talked some more about all of this and she asked me some really good questions. We talked about what a relationship with God looks like and how it works. We talked about how God just wants US – not some ritualistic, polished fake version that looks impressive – but all the rough edges that He can refine and restore.

I was able to pray with Wanda and sit with her as she thanked Jesus for loving her and begged Him to come into her life. We were both bawling. We prayed together again and Wanda said, “Stacie, He must really love me to send me my own freaking invitation. I can't believe I matter enough that He sent you to talk to me.”

Um.

How freaking humbling. God could have sent anyone. He chose me. He allowed me to take the hurt and pain I've felt and use it to glorify Him and tell someone else that HE IS GOOD.

Wanda asked me, "Where do we go from here?"  And the obvious answer was Tammy's house.  


We continued on our journey and pretty quickly we were at Tammy's house. I couldn't help wondering if Tammy was really here or if she was a psycho and there was going to be a big fight or what would happen. I was relieved that I wouldn't have to be part of it.  Lame, huh?

Then Wanda asked me to come to the door with her and I quickly responded, “Sure!”

Inside I groaned out of sheer fear. If I was this scared, Wanda must be peeing her pants.

Nope.

She was bouncing up and down with excitement.

We parked and walked up to the door and knocked.

As I was silently asking God what the heck I was supposed to do, the door opened.

Her response confirmed that Tammy does in fact exist...

 

The final installment will be posted tomorrow.   It's pretty awesome.

I smiled and as I said, “Hey” - I quickly scanned her appearance. She appeared to be in her late forties and it was evident that she hadn't been fortunate enough to shower any time lately. She wore baggy clothes that were soiled and stained. Everything about her seemed faded - the color in her clothes, the vibrance of her hair...her eyes held no indication that hope dwelled within.  Sweat seemed to float on her oily face, compliments of the 90 degree weather here in Georgia.  She had nothing with her but my heart could feel the unseen baggage of defeat that accompanied her each step.


 

She asked me how I was and wondered if I were heading to Atlanta today. I smiled and told her that I hadn't planned on but that I would consider a random road trip there. I asked her why she needed to go there and we spent the next ten minutes discussing the fact that her daughter lived there, she hadn't seen her in almost two years and that she was so very tired of being alone.  She wanted a relationship with her daughter and thought showing up on her doorstep after two years of no contact was the best way to proceed.  It felt like a pretty text book scenario of someone "down on their luck".   

I gave her a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder and told her that I was going to head inside and get a drink and that we'd figure out how to get her there today. On the way in, I called Connie Rock and told her briefly about the encounter I was having and asked her to pray with me.  She gave me some encouragement and also let me know that someone would be heading to Atlanta in a little bit for the airport.  I knew that somehow, I'd figure out how to get her there, but I wasn't sure exactly what role I would play in the process. On the way out, I decided that God had created this opportunity for me to be able to personally speak into this woman's life. And so, alas - Atlanta here we come!

Armed with juice and muffins, we hit the road. We didn't really talk much for the first few minutes. She inhaled the muffins and I asked for some general concept of where Tammy (her daughter) lived. My focus was so off base at first, too. I mean, it's easy to look at this opportunity and say, “AWESOME! I get to help someone and share a little bit of Jesus with her.” I truly wanted to help her...but I was pretty stuck on the fact that this woman smelled horribly and that she was sitting so closely to me. I also felt a little disappointed that I wasn't finishing up the last day of Project Leadership Training. The fact that I am broke and using a half tank of gas to take this lady to Atlanta wasn't too far from my thoughts either. Truth is, I was pretty stuck on myself and my own agenda for the day.

Instead of systematically launching into the Roman's Road or God's glorious ability to save her from fiery damnation, I said - “Wanda, what's your story?” She asked what I meant and I explained that we all have a story and we live it one day, one page, one chapter at a time. Wanda thought her story had a sad ending and didn't want to share. I reminded her that her story's not even over. That THIS could be the turning point where you breathe a sigh of relief because this season has ended and a new one begins.   We shared a small laugh about winter being her least favorite season and she started telling me her story...

Wanda has lived in Gainesville for about two years and lost her job about a year ago. Her daughter was in her early twenties and the stress that Wanda felt rolled down the hill to Tammy. Pretty quickly, communication went out the window and then Tammy went out the door. Wanda showed up a church and someone handed her a piece of paper with instructions on how to receive a blessing for a new job. She followed the instructions for a few weeks but didn't see anything come from this supposed anecdote. I asked her if she was disappointed in God when that happened. She explained that she knew she wasn't good enough to have God bless her...that she brought out the worst in people and wasn't surprised that it didn't work because God was, ultimately, disappointed in HER. 

Soon after this, she lost her house and the “friends” that embraced her initially disappeared pretty quickly. Wanda found herself sleeping behind Walmart, among some broken down boxes. In order to amuse herself that night she said, “I thought if I were going to live among boxes, I'd at least be IN one and not just sitting on them.” She thought this was pretty funny. I wasn't so amused. See now I wasn't so stuck on myself...I couldn't move past the part where she said that she KNEW she wasn't good enough for God's attention.  Nothing could be further from the truth.


It was at this point when she told me that she had a dream last night that she was hugging her daughter and coins were falling from the sky.   And then my jaw dropped.


For the past two weeks, I've been having this picture come to my mind several times a day of these damaged, dusty coins.  In this picture, I basically watch them go through the process of restoration and the simple reality that the appearance of something does NOT indicate its value and that the only one qualified to not only make that assessment but to RESTORE that value is someone who is an expert.   As complicated as people are - you and I probably agree that the only expert on our damaged, dusty selfs is the Creator.  And that Creator is GOOD and desires to RESTORE us and use the pain for purpose.   In these past two weeks I cannot get  "Restoration comes after damage" out of my head.  


Turns out God's agenda is lining up to be a little bigger than mine for today...

More to come soon....you're not going to want to miss what happened!

I was in a tent...the air was heavy and hot. I could smell sweat and the lingering stench of blood penetrating the air. Everything felt dirty and damp and yet so dry and hollow. I could see a soldier sitting on a cot..head in his hands. His hands were calloused and cracked...sweat glistened on the muscles in his arms.  He had fought hard and been refined by the battles he had encountered. Maybe even defined.  He had been victorious but still carried his scars. He was spiritually tormented and his back was hunched over from the unseen burden of despair. He was exhausted. Absolutely defeated.  He wasn't sure how many more battles he could even handle.

Someone else was suddenly in the tent. Maybe there all along; but hiding. As this person emerged from the shadows...seemingly dancing on their seams, I could feel his delight. He was clothed in darkness..total darkness where there was no shape or form except for a hood on his head.  He moved quickly and seemed to carry no weight. He slid in behind the soldier and began to rub his shoulders and whisper, “You're wanted. You're wanted by me. You have value. I can make it so you don't fight anymore....you're going through this because of something you've done..”.


Delight dripped from his lips as he condemned the soldier in front of him.

The soldier pulled himself to his feet; taking his burdens with him – even heavier now. As he forced himself out of the tent, he saw the rest of his army around him. He couldn't make sense of all the darkness he felt. They had come off of a victory. Why was he still feeling defeated? As he propelled himself forward, the snickering began. People around him started to tell him that he was a coward...that he was defeated...unwanted.  He lamented, "this makes no sense....these are warriors that are supposed to be rallying WITH me...FOR me."  Some came up to him and tried to change his clothing...the appearance was what really mattered. It only smeared the dirt that seemed to permeate his skin. He felt like he was suffocating.

 
 He could see the treeline ahead of him and was desperate to reach it.  Fear pierced the space in between. What could possibly be in the wilderness?  Surely it would only be even darker. Alone.

 
As he reached the treeline and burst into this wilderness, he suddenly found himself in full armor. He was refreshed, renewed...replenished. He still felt heaviness on his chest...but he felt strong and empowered. The further he walked into the wilderness, the less he was concerened about the burden of the camp.

Satan loves to put us in a mindset of defeat.  The crazy thing is that Satan WANTS us and sees value in us.  Before I get a Bible thrown at me, let me explain.  He knows that we're already victorious in Christ...that we're free.  He wants to entwine the branches of deceit around us so tightly so that we're unable to move.  He sees the threat that we possess and is desperate to limit our impact on the world.   He has always wanted what he can never have.  His future has been sealed in a lake of eternal defeat.  He sees the way God looks at us...the love that permeates Christ's soul for US.  That the God of the universe would look on the ugliness of all of our sin and STILL find us beautiful.  Satan sees the value in us and wants to do everything possible to convince us that we're paupers living outside the Kingdom.  He is filled with disgusting delight when we buy into all that nonsense. 

The wilderness isn't just where you find yourself when you've done something wrong. It's not always a pit that you dig; but something you can be pushed into or fall into as well. Regardless of how we ended up in the wilderness - it doesn't have to be about wandering aimlessly; but allowing God to show up in miraculous ways to be your sole provision. The further you wander into that wilderness WITH him; the more empowered he is to provide for you in ways that you can't experience in the noise of the world.
 

Here's the deal: I believe that
                                                                     :: God has a fun sense of humor::

I also believe that He's a personal God. And that means that He gets personal with His humor. For instance, God usually puts little illustrations in my head that I would never come up with on my own. I guess He knows my tendency to plagiarize, ha!

Lately, God's been giving me all these sports illustrations.  Maybe it's all the Gatorade I have to drink!  I don't really have a problem with sports; I just don't really think in that way. My train of thought usually involves me being some powerful warrior for Jesus. A superhero of sorts with Ninja-like reflexes and stealth.  A super hero named Bolt! Holy cow!!! Gatorade has a lightning BOLT as its logo!  It's like it's my super hero fuel.  No, really.  It's like destiny.

Um...back to reality.  
 

Here's some stuff that God's been teaching me lately. I'm not disposable but I am perishable. As many of you know, the past few months have been quite trying for me. I literally have not experienced a single day “vomit free”.  I've had kidney stones (8 so far. EIGHT!), kidney infection, UTI, herniated disc in my back, complex ovarian cysts, complex ovarian cysts rupture, ovarian cancer scare, H-pylori bacteria, ulcers, hernia, emergency appendectomy, stomach flu, and an insatiable desire for pancakes.  I can tell you that the ONLY one that makes me smile is the pancakes.  I'd love to not be dealing with all of these health problems...they're crazy!  I was perfectly healthy; not cool.  Please keep praying that these would pass and healing would come!
 

I'm sure I don't have to tell you that I'm tired...really, really tired. The tricky Enemy of mine keeps trying to steal things out of my grasp: joy, hope, health, stamina, relationships, finances, etc. Every time I feel like I have a re-grip on each of these areas; I feel like he snatches them back again. Here's what the Lord's showing me though: life is like a long game of basketball. (I warned you that the sports illustrations were on the agenda).

Not just like the opening game of the season...not a practice game...not a game against that other team that your loyal fans ALSO love to root for...but that BIG game everyone is talking about. The one where everything is on the line. It's the arch-nemesis. The ultimate rival competitor. The one that can cost me everything.

There's no timer on the scoreboard.  Anticipation hangs in the air like humidity on a hot day.  I'm not sitting on the bench. I'm not an observer in the bleachers.   I don't understand much about the rules; but here's what I know for sure: God is NOT the referee viewing this game. He's not standing by watching my every move and just waiting for me to mess up so He can call me on it. He's my coach. He's calling out direction, yelling praise and pumping me up to keep pressing in. He's making sure I have nourishment to replenish the energy I'm putting forth.  He knows the ends and outs of this game and He knows my opponent's play book like I know the alphabet...there are no surprises for Him.  He will always be ten steps ahead of my nemesis.   I don't know anything about offense and defense....but I know that I'm the player that is on neither position. I'm the one that always carries the ball and shoots. 

I don't need to know the plays inside and out.  I know my purpose....to take what I have and return it back to the hoop.  I don't give up just because my opponent grabs it out of my hands. I chase after it, grab it back and keep running toward my hoop. The game isn't scored on how many times I lose the ball. Its purpose isn't the exercise I get, the steps that I've taken, the fans I've acquired along the way or how tired and sweaty I am...only in my ability to press back in and give up what's in my hands.

That's the big picture for us, isn't it? The Enemy is always trying to intimidate us and convince us that it's all over because he's temporarily taken what the Lord wants. Our joy...our attention...our health...our finances...our patience...our relationships...our hope. The INSTANT that he grabs it out of my hands...I refuse to go ride the bench. I WILL keep pressing in and taking it back. God is my hoop. He's what I'm pressing toward and what I'm giving to.

I'm tired though, friends. I have some days where I don't even remotely feel like trying to grab the ball back. There are times where I get so tired of the Enemy's snickering that I wonder how God doesn't just come down from Heaven to punch him in the face. I keep being reminded though that the score's already been calculated and Satan loses the tournament.

The championship belongs to our team.

That's something that I need to remind myself almost hourly. It's probably safe to assume that you know the feeling, eh?
 

I'm needing sponsors...errrr...supporters. (Gosh, seriously what's with all the sports talk?!)

I'm struggling financially right now and really need my team...my supporters...cheerleaders (okay...I'm just gonna go with it) to continue to step up and help me.

I work for an amazing group of people that “get it.” They've been so incredibly supportive of the schedule I've had to work because of my health. They surround me with encouragement and prayers.

However, in order to continue receiving a paycheck, I need people to donate toward my “support account”. Because of the holiday season, I've seen my normal monthly support drop fairly steadily. I just want to make an appeal for help.

In sending your financial gifts for me; you continue to empower me to help AIM make a difference. And gosh, they're making a difference.  Check the bottom for some links of how your gift helps us make a difference.

As the holidays sweep past; give the gift of freedom. By sending in on my behalf, you're allowing me to continue to partner with an organization that is LITERALLY freeing people from emotional, spiritual and physical bondage and into a life of freedom.

$10. $20. $28. $117. Whatever. Every single amount helps and can make a difference. If you're currently a monthly supporter: THANK YOU!   Would you consider increasing your monthly amount by something as small as $5?  It would make a tremendous impact. 

The ball's in your court, friend.
Can you help?
Click the link below, do it!
http://bit.ly/9sRKdc

Thank you for all of your support and prayers – from the bottom of my heart!

--Stacie (AKA: Bolt)





A FEW LINKS WORTH READING:

http://www.sethbarnes.com/?tuid=5337809

http://keturahweathers.theworldrace.org/?filename=og-love

http://adventures.org/blogs/?sitetag=wr




 

You are mine – it's not your destiny to be “the one that always breaks”.   I am powerful and I can change your circumstances and your future.

                              Your past doesn't dictate your future –
                                                                                               ::I DO::

I want you to have such freedom, for joy to flow (unhindered and unceasing).
                                                 That's what I made you for.
You are a perfectly formed vessel to carry My joy and to demonstrate My beauty and joy to the broken. You don't leak – your brokenness does not change My purpose for you. You are a mosaic. I take the broken places and I piece them back together differently than they started – but I'm making ART. 

                     When I put you back together YOU ARE WHOLE, not mended.

The individual storms of your life that shattered the pieces and parts of your heart are what I am using to make you who you never could have been otherwise. The Enemy thinks when he breaks of part of you that he is beating you and beating ME. But when that part of you begins to fall to the ground, I'm there to catch it before it ever even hits the ground...and smiling, I say, “Perfect. That's just the piece I needed for my beautiful recreation.”

The process is hard at times –
                                               but I am strong, and I am big and I'm HERE.

          I'm your Papa and I am your fierce protector.
You can trust Me. You can trust Me.

I am filling you with MY strength, teaching you how to wear My protection and to war with Me from a high place – a place of strength, power and safety.

I am here.
                   See Me.
                                   Look for Me.
                                                 Choose to see Me when you could choose not to.

Trust Me to hold your heart fully. I won't drop it – I won't break it. Every darkness and shade of gray in your life...every crevice of your heart – I want to pour color and life and redemptive joy into. You are not who you once were. I have done SO much in you and through you and I love My work. You are absolutely beautiful and My heart overflows when I catch even just a glimpse of you.

I can't help but smile. 

Every.
Single.
Time.

Love,
Your Papa

 

  Romans 8:23

23 And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children, including the new bodies he has promised us.