RSS

Category Archives: Ministry Moments

Warrior Princesses and Marching Bands

There is absolutely nothing quite like the sound of a marching band. Nothing like it. I love me some jazz band, for sure, and I’ve enjoyed watching my high school son perform an improv solo on the trombone at concerts, but a marching band coming at me is so ceremonious. I always choke up when I hear and see it. I had about five seconds of fame in my high school marching band. I played a xylophone, which proved a bit much for this 5 foot 2 girl to carry, at least at the time, but I loved being part of the march, the formation, the celebration.

So, I sit here in my van outside the high school band entrance delighting in the fading sounds of practicing percussionists with a few trumpets and trombones hanging in there—and a tuba. The rest of them have already gone inside to pack up. And even though this blog is way behind schedule, and I truly have no idea what I’m going to write about (God usually gives me an image or story, and I pray and go from there), I’m transported back to school days, pep rallies, peer pressure, and pimples. My own high school stories are not phenomenal. They didn’t leave lasting impressions on my life (people did, but not necessarily experiences), nor did they scar me. I still have some great friends from that time, although I’ve never made a high school reunion yet. But the truest friends from my high school years have remained in my middle decades, and that is awesome.

———————————————–

After a few interruptions (ages 8, 11, 14, and 43), I finally returned to finish this blog, and it’s amazing because I asked God: “Okay, I’m a little late here on the inspiration…what are we going to write about today?” He already wrote an entire book that continues to be a best seller, so there’s really nothing to add to that. I just try to talk about what I discover in His Great Big Book of Truth (the Bible, of course!).

And then I quickly caught up on a private message on social media with a few people (four) to whom I sometimes call out for prayer. We call ourselves the “Warrior Princesses” because we war against the rough stuff of life in prayer for each other. And there was something heartfelt and deeply personal that I shared earlier in the day, which was followed by several amazingly poignant observations about either my own wrong thinking or where I wasn’t seeing with clarity or fullness of the situation. But it was said with deep love, compassion, and care. It spoke directly into the inner turmoil I had. I didn’t have to share more than a few sentences. These prayer friends just knew my silent torment. And because God made them individuals, they each had different wisdom to bring to the table. One of them speaks with a sweetness, one with blunt and delightful wit, one with practical wisdom, and the other with maternal compassion. They each have something unique but true to say—and it blends in beautiful harmony.

I believe it sounds like a triumphant march of praying, warrior chicks who won’t give up helping each other to look up to God. As one of them put it when I asked permission to reveal our group name (Warrior Princesses) on public forum:

“Yes, you can say that, Bonnie. We are very Xena with our swords, and I want a horse, too, please.”

She’s absolutely right. When one of us hurts, doubts, can’t see Jesus through the clouds of our own chaos or confusion, the other four ride in on horses cutting out the untruths and reminding the limping one of God’s truth. Sometimes two or more of us have multiple “Oh, Jesus, please help us!” moments going on at the same time. Somehow, we all, in private message format, get it taken care of. And we’re not all on at the same time. But Bible verses are typed, e-prayers are written, and some fun emoji (topic for another blog, for sure!) are shared.

Another group of praying moms sits around my table every other week for a few hours. An hour of coffee, a half-hour or more of sharing, and 30-45 minutes of prayer for our children, schools, communities, teachers, bus drivers, you name it! And tears have been shed as well as peals of laughter heard—sometimes even in the middle of prayer—because life is messy, muddy, sticky, gooey, and if we aren’t real about that, why on earth do we gather in the first place?

And of course there are my precious one-on-one friends who read my three-sentence angst in a text and know exactly how to reply. They, too, know my history and where exactly my heart is in certain moments without me saying much.

There are some dear ones with whom I simply exchange a meaningful hug at church, or elsewhere, and the embrace says so much while we say almost nothing. It’s an exchange of pain and encouragement—an “I love you, and I understand.”

This blog isn’t about how awesome I am to have these friends. It’s to encourage us all to enjoy the variety God gives us. To not rule someone out just because they’re a bit blunt, and you are more sugary. (In my case, my oldest child tells me I am not “sweet,” but rather “spicy kind” in personality. Yeah, I probably have to agree with him there.)

I have felt badly lately because I haven’t been very good at holding anyone else up in this particular season of my life. My strength only went so far, and I hate that. I like it when I can extend it beyond our family. I certainly pray for people and send out an encouraging word here and there. I respond. But I haven’t been able to carry others. My arms and heart have been weak. I have felt my limitations, and they have been humbling. I want to do more, but in this season, God brought my focus back home for a while. He narrowed it, and I am learning to be okay with it, because I trust Him to broaden it again when it is time.

And this is where we need people to come alongside us and say: “It’s your turn. It’s okay that you need us right now without an immediate return on investment.” As one Warrior Princess put it:

“There is no tally being kept.”

What? There’s not? Most of the world out there doesn’t tell us that. People who don’t keep tally are rare gems.

But this cycles me back around to that resounding boom of the marching band. One instrument, or even five of the same instrument, cannot bring the same music to our ears as multiple instruments playing different parts. If I surround myself with only funny people, I miss the beautiful music of the more serious ones. We need all of the personalities in our lives to blend and teach us something.

I love what the Apostle Peter has to say about this in the 1 Peter passage about different gifts. What do you think? What does your band sound like? Does it have both speaker and servant personalities* in it?

1 Peter 4:10-11, Apostle Peter speaking

Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.

*A more thorough discussion of personality differences represented by this Scripture can be found in Not Just on Sundays.

**This blog has been shared at Faith-Filled Fridays, Blessing Counters, Dance With Jesus, and Christian Mommy Blogger.

2 Comments

Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on September 16, 2014 in Dance/Karate/Robotics/Band/Basketball/XC Mom, Ministry Moments

Tags: 1 peter 4:10-11, as faithful stewards of God's grace, if anyone serves, marching band, not just on sundays, prayer warrior, praying moms, use whatever gift you have received, with the strength God provides

Lunches and Little Friends: The Deep, Deep Love of God for Us

12 Sep

Today, I went to pick up my youngest child from his school a few minutes early to get him to an appointment. While there, a school staff member stopped to tell me a sweet story. I had to cover my mouth and hold my breath because I almost dropped to the floor in tears.

My 8 year old, Little Man (LM), still sits at the peanut-free table at school. His food allergies are all gone except for low levels of skin testing response to peanut showing up now and again. He can touch it, sit near it, and smell it. He has no desire to eat it. And really, I’m not forcing it. When you put previously severe allergies together in a cocktail with obsessive anxiety, I really don’t see the point of pushing too many adventures into freedom at once. He already eats all tree nuts, dairy, and egg now after years of being allergic to those as well. Big, brave, victorious steps—each and every one of them.

So, four years into school, when I asked him this year if he wanted to finally give up the security of the peanut-free table, he wasn’t sure. Starting school was enough to process. I told him it was fine that we ease into change. When you have lived so long in fear of foods you put into your body threatening to harm you severely, you develop some security blankets. One of his is this safe-zone cafeteria table.

In my mother’s heart, I was ready to toss this chain off his neck last year. I wanted to open up his social world. Not many kids sit at that table. They take turns being with him if they buy lunch. Otherwise, he can often be alone. For an extreme extrovert, that is a special form of torture.

But then in came one of his little buddies. This child and Little Man were sitting back-to-back, chairs pushed against each other, facing into separate tables—one peanut-free and one not. The staff member initially thought one was not giving the other space—a conclusion I might easily make myself. As it turns out, when she told them to please move a bit apart, both boys turned around and told her that it was okay because they did this on purpose. They knew they had to sit at separate tables, but if they sat back-to-back, they could hear each other and face other friends and yet still be in each other’s world. They cleverly adapted their circumstances to find a way to still hang out. And she affirmed them for it.

Wow.

I drove for 45 minutes to the appointment feeling the full weight of that—and the complete brilliance of it. And the simplicity. It made me think of my dogs when they were new puppies in our home; they would push their tiny furry bodies against matching ends of the crate to touch each other through the bars. To get warm. To know companionship and comfort.

It’s an incredibly powerful thing to see what lengths the human heart and spirit will go to in order to find and keep that connection.

Another one of Little Man’s close friends has spent the past several years getting a school lunch as often as he could to sit together so LM wasn’t alone. When he can’t sit with him because he didn’t get a cafeteria lunch (approved as peanut-free), he makes sure to let LM know he’s still thinking of him even though they can’t sit together that day. He always offers a smile and encouragement, even a hug.

When she shared the same school with him, still another friend regularly checked on Little Man to make sure someone was with him at lunch, if possible. Her heart looked out for his. She understood the potential isolation of a separate table and took care of her friend. She shepherded, protected, looked out for him. She is 8 years old.

Not only is this a culture of kindness I so appreciate in these 7 and 8 year olds—and don’t we all need to see more of that: kindness in the next generation?—but it also reminds me that God does that for us. Wherever we are, whatever our struggle, handicap, issue, frustration, trial, or something otherwise holding us back, He pulls his chair up to us right where we are. He is with us. We may feel lonely in our trial or circumstances at times, but He is always looking out for us, caring deeply that we have someone to sit at the table with—Him. If we talk to Him and trust Him, we will always find Him there to rest our backs upon. He keeps us company.

I also see that, just like Little Man, sometimes we are unable or unwilling to let go of something, to trust, to take a great step forward in faith. And God is still there, providing for us, patiently coming alongside, gently coaxing us toward that new step of faith. LM wasn’t ready to leave the table, so God sent his friends to sit with him until he was ready. They loved him through it.

The Apostle Paul reassures us that nothing can separate us from the love of God—not our rational or irrational fears. Not our need to hold on to something. Not even the few places we struggle to trust. If we yield to Him and ask Him, God’s love is a powerful force to sustain us. Little Man’s own inability to fully let go of the peanut-free table did not keep him from the Lord’s presence. God sent LM reinforcements so he didn’t have to go it alone.

Is there anything more beautifully reflective of a deeply loving Father than sending His smallest sheep to care for each other?

I truly can’t think of anything more precious, and I have much to learn of God as I watch the youngest of His flock.

Romans 8:35-39, Apostle Paul speaking

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:

“For your sake we face death all day long;
we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Sticky Notes from God [Excerpt]

30 Aug

Espressos of Faith is committed to posting excerpts from Not Just on Sundays: Seeking God’s Purpose in Each New Day in the weeks leading up to publication. (This is Excerpt #2.) Many of the stories within Not Just on Sundays are inspired by trying to view life through the small moments of life, by zooming in on something we might otherwise miss, much like my photographer friends do through an actual lens. Sometimes the greatest blessings and lessons are in the simple things. I hope we all look more each day to find those “sticky notes” God sends just for us, often blessing us through other people.

——————————–

Sticky Notes from God A dear friend of mine from my island days came to visit; sadly, I was away at the time, so she and her husband hung out with Salad Boy* and the kids without me. She was unaware of the incidents I encountered the week I was gone, but when I came home, she had left me sticky-note messages all over my house, reminding me of God’s love and her friend love. She had no idea the heart returning home needed to see and feel something tangible that was the very definition of love (my own family also reminded me of that). God knows what we need, and He sends messengers to deliver the messages. We are not always tuned in to see it, but He does this. And I love it! Open my eyes to see it more, Lord! You are awesome!

So, I got to thinking how God also leaves us sticky notes. They are all over our Bibles, sure, but they are also penned by those who love us, like my sweet island friend. Salad Boy and I don’t write each other notes a lot in the everyday rhythm of our lives. I wish I could say, being a writer, that I wrote him long confessions of my love, daily, but alas, I do not. But in a rare moment when he felt inspired, as he left for work, he said: “Have a great day at work, Honey.” I don’t work yet for regular pay. Not yet. But it doesn’t matter if it is a writing day or a “keeping house” day or a “running around on errands” day, he gets it. He gets every bit of it, and I just love him to pieces for it. He was my sticky note from God that day. It was verbal, but it was a blessing.

Sometimes we are the ones writing the sticky notes. One day, this was my sticky note to a friend of mine who did not share my faith. Life had taken her down a road where she had taken a bite out of the bitter apple one too many times. Don’t we all get to that place some days? I wanted to speak some of God’s Truth to her. She didn’t magically embrace my faith. We often need a whole stack of sticky notes speaking truth to undo the hateful, untrue ones we have received.

Dear Friend:

I have many thoughts, and I probably can’t get them all down, but I do hear you on feeling betrayed, abandoned, disappointed. I think when so many people have poorly reflected back to you your worth, it is easy to think they are reflecting God as well with their awful choices to be devastatingly hurtful. I can understand why that feels like it is God acting (or not acting in some cases). This is a great discussion for a time when I can go more in depth, but I encourage you to realize humans failed you over and over again, but God knows that and has a heart that aches for you. This may not make sense right now or feel real. I had to spend a lot of time getting “human” out of my way of seeing God. Humans can really disappoint and screw it up sometimes. They kept getting in the way of me seeing God. It’s hard to distinguish. It’s hard not to feel left out in the cold at times, especially after all of your rotten experiences. I hear you on feeling like you “did all of the right things” or “followed all of the right rules.” I am sure He sees that. The coolest part for me in my faith (or perhaps the biggest relief) is that, while I want to do all of the right things because I love Him, my relationship with Him isn’t dependent on that. I don’t have to be perfect or measure up.

I want to be praying for you that the lies and untruths that all of those people (those who abused their responsibility to “tend your heart and soul”) spoke to you will scatter and that God’s love for who He made you to be will be the only voice you hear. I am still clearing out my own cobwebs and telling old tapes playing in my head to stop, but each time I do, I see myself through God’s eyes more clearly. It’s the only version of me I fully love—because He does.

Blessings,
Bonnie

Where can we see God reaching us through another person’s love or act of compassion today? Where can we be that sticky note in someone else’s life, speaking blessing and encouragement, bringing hope?

*My affectionate name for my husband because he’s on a fitness/health kick

**Update: Not Just on Sundays: Seeking God’s Purpose in Each New Day published October 1, 2014.

This blog was shared at A Little R & R.

4 Comments

Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on August 30, 2014 in Journey to Publication: Excerpts from "Not Just on Sundays", Ministry Moments

Tags: blessing, encouragement, God's love, hope, sticky notes

Honoring Josh: A Mother’s Heart in the Aftermath of Suicide

23 Aug

I am so incredibly honored to give the first guest blog spot at Espressos of Faith to my dear friend Tammie Wommack. I know her from my time living in the Republic of the Marshall Islands. Tammie and Rick have turned deep loss into a path of healing by volunteering their time to help others. They gave up a regular income to live a nomadic lifestyle, going wherever God leads them to help others in need. They have done so much to raise suicide prevention awareness and comfort those experiencing such tremendous loss.

I had just met them when they were called off the island with unimaginable news, and I got to know them as they returned and started the difficult journey of living with their “new normal.” Tammie speaks from the heart and sheds some light on a mother’s thoughts and feelings a few years into this new chapter of life.

In light of the recent suicide of Robin Williams in the news, I felt it was a very good thing to hear the perspective of a mother. I hope we can get Tammie on Espressos of Faith from time to time to bring more understanding to this important issue, help us know what brings comfort to those left behind, and inform us further on suicide prevention awareness.

Blessings!
Bonnie Lyn Smith, author of Not Just on Sundays

————————————

Here’s Tammie…

A really good friend asked me a question the other day, and I had to process it before I could really understand it and realize the magnitude of the answer. Actually, the question came at a time when suicide was in the news and being talked about everywhere. Whenever that happens, I seem to rehash my own feelings of overwhelming grief and the moment I realized my child was dead. Then the stages of grief and learning to live again all rush past me so quickly. Now that some years have passed, this happens in an instant, and then I realize how blessed I am to be where I am now and not in the moment again. My heart always hurts for the families left behind and with the knowledge of the very long and painful process of healing they have in their future. So here goes my response to that thought-provoking question:

“Have you found that anything good has come out of Joshua’s death?”

At first, I really didn’t know how to respond—because I heard the question in the wrong way. I said, “Do you mean am I glad Joshua is dead?” And then I quickly responded with an answer about our life now. Well, of course they did not mean it that way, but a mom is so quick to want to protect no matter what, and somehow, I always have the guilt of his death uppermost in my mind; it colors my thoughts and actions a lot of the time.

Now as I process that question and understand what it means—and the intent with which it was asked—my answer is a resounding: “YES!!!”

Rick and I have found a new direction and a deeper meaning to our lives. We believe that our efforts to honor Joshua have resulted in making a difference in other people’s lives. We, as a couple, are closer, and we cherish our families and time together. We both have a deeper and more meaningful relationship with Christ and have learned to depend on Him for everything. We have been humbled, to be sure, but we love life and all that it entails: both the good and the bad. Our families still do not understand our deep desire to give back; they see it as a decision to quit working, especially on Rick’s part, and truly, in the beginning, we were just running from our grief with no real plan. But God has opened the door, and we have stepped through it!!! We are not regretting our decision to give up so much because we have gained even more. We live on a very limited income, but we LIVE it to the fullest. Small things now are so much more important to us: time with family, being thankful for the little things, grasping with both hands the beauty of whatever place God allows us to view.

Our advice to everyone is: Don’t wait until it is too late to love the ones in your life whom God has blessed you with. Don’t sweat the small stuff. (I know that was a book; maybe I need to re-read it.) Always try to help whenever and wherever you can. Embrace and be thankful for what you have, and most of all, give God the glory in everything that you do.

God Bless,
Tammie

———————————-

To find out more about how you can help Tammie and Rick help others, please read their story at http://www.gofundme.com/Giving-Back-For-Joshua

A great resource for suicide prevention is the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.

8 Comments

Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on August 23, 2014 in Anxiety/OCD/Depression, Guest Bloggers: Sharing More Stories of Hope and Courage, Ministry Moments, Tammie's Story: Child Loss and Suicide

Tags: giving back, grief, mother's heart, robin williams, suicide, suicide awareness, suicide prevention

Valley Walking

22 Aug

A friend of mine recently talked to me about her family’s wait through a lay-off and subsequent job-seeking trial. She shared how hard the wait was. This is so true for any wait of any kind when we sit in the valley and can’t see the other side. I haven’t walked through that particular job wait recently, but I have waited out months on several prayer requests that have roots deep into my heart. We all can relate to that at one point or another. It’s the human condition: We sometimes cannot control ending up in the valley. And we do the best we humanly can, many of us, but we ultimately can’t rush the view of the other side, the one where we start climbing back up that majestic mountain of answers. This friend is one of my “authentic” peeps, the kind you can be real and raw around, no pretenses. So I said what I said to so many others in moments like these: “You are in the valley, and valley walking sucks.”

“Sucks” is not a polite word, but I don’t mean it in the way you might be thinking. Maybe I wouldn’t use it from a pulpit or even in my junior high Sunday School class. But sometimes “sucks” just nails it. Because it sucks the life and energy out of us…or tries to. Because it sucks in good and bad, like a vacuum that consumes the Polly Pocket shoe as well as the dog hair and pine needles it was meant to pick up. Because after it sucks it all in, we have to go through the vacuum bag or bagless canister and sort through our trash: what is not good to think on or dwell on—and what is. Because when I am valley walking, I find it is so easy to have my attitude suck in bad things as well; it sucks in negativity and discouragement and wants to then spew it back out.

So I keep in mind these verses below, where God is speaking through Ezekiel the Prophet that He will breathe life into the dry bones in the valley and bring His people back to their land. What? Valley walking won’t be forever! And my friend exhibits this beautifully through her trial. Trusting in this promise is the only way to walk until we get to the other side without leaving shrapnel evidence of ourselves all over the valley as we cycle through anger, disappointment, and grief in the wait. And you know what happens with shrapnel in the valley? It’s a minefield for those walking behind us. And I want to do better than that. I want to believe He will breathe life into the dry bones in my valley—in your valley—because we asked Him to, and that we will get up with renewed “tendons and flesh,” walking out stronger to the other side, His breath of life in us, if we trust Him.

———————————

Ezekiel 37:1-14, Ezekiel the Prophet narrating

The hand of the Lord was upon me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the Lord and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. He asked me, “Son of man, can these bones live?”

I said, “O Sovereign Lord, you alone know.”

Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones and say to them, ‘Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! This is what the Sovereign Lord says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord.’”

So I prophesied as I was commanded. And as I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. I looked, and tendons and flesh appeared on them and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them.

Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath; prophesy, son of man, and say to it, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe into these slain, that they may live.’” So I prophesied as he commanded me, and breath entered them; they came to life and stood up on their feet—a vast army.

Then he said to me: “Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off.’ Therefore prophesy and say to them: ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: O my people, I am going to open your graves and bring you up from them; I will bring you back to the land of Israel. Then you, my people, will know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves and bring you up from them. I will put my Spirit in you and you will live, and I will settle you in your own land. Then you will know that I the Lord have spoken, and I have done it, declares the Lord.’”