♥ Mark 5:27-28 ♥
When she heard about Jesus, she came behind Him in the crowd and touched His garment.
For she said, “If only I may touch His clothes, I shall be made well.”
When you reach the end of your rope … you’ll find the Hem of His garment. (Godstrong Women) ♥ Sometimes I need a whole corner just for me!
Attack!! Attack!! There are days when I feel like curling up in the fetal position and not leaving my house. I know…. crazy! Most of the time I’m a crazy fearless warrior princess of the King of Kings…but the last few weeks my heart has been full of anxiety and doubt. Oh my word! Seriously! I knew I couldn’t stay there (in my heart). I’m in the word daily and I am in constant communication with my Father, but still I doubted. You would think all that He has done in my life I would never be afraid or doubt. That wicked old father of lies had crept into my thought life and I was listening with both ears!!! What on earth! Why had I not claimed the scriptures to force out the lies? So much easier said than done and yet I knew I had to get started pushing through the darkness and battle with the weapons that are not of this earth.
Oh my goodness! I love this story about Gideon, this truth from Judges 6….read it years ago, but recently had it brought to my attention when I went to an event at my church. Most of you know that back in January of 2009 I asked God for a sign and less than 3 hours later He gave me one that was 4ft long! …yet still I wake up doubting at times, fearing I’m not equipped for the task ahead…it is only when I lose sight of whose I am and that He equipped me with what I need for the task at hand, that I doubt. Geeze! He must roll His eyes at me sometimes! I know He must!
JUDGES 6:11-18
One day the angel of God came and sat down under the oak in Ophrah that belonged to Joash the Abiezrite, whose son Gideon was threshing wheat in the winepress, out of sight of the Midianites. The angel of God appeared to him and said, “God is with you, O mighty warrior!”
Gideon replied, “With me, my master? If God is with us, why has all this happened to us? Where are all the miracle-wonders our parents and grandparents told us about, telling us, ‘Didn’t God deliver us from Egypt?’ The fact is, God has nothing to do with us—he has turned us over to Midian.”
But God faced him directly: “Go in this strength that is yours. Save Israel from Midian. Haven’t I just sent you?”
Gideon said to him, “Me, my master? How and with what could I ever save Israel? Look at me. My clan’s the weakest in Manasseh and I’m the runt of the litter.”
God said to him, “I’ll be with you. Believe me, you’ll defeat Midian as one man.”
Gideon said, “If you’re serious about this, do me a favor: Give me a sign to back up what you’re telling me. Don’t leave until I come back and bring you my gift.”
I am so grateful for this reminder and for our pastor’s wife Lori for sharing. She is so bold and beautiful and a fearless warrior princess! Although I don’t know her that well, what an honor to be led to the feet of Jesus through her.
We all can be found in a place of fear, doubt and anxiety often in our lives. Don’t stay there! Your redeemer lives!! Cry out to Him, lay at His feet. Allow Him to sooth your soul and go on the strength He gave you! Get in His word (your sword) and let Him love, correct and direct you!
Be blessed today and know God has equipped you with the strength that you need to accomplish what He has called you to do…it may be that at this time in your life it is to be a wife and mother, or it could be to lead the company your within the position God has you at this time…either way, you are His warrior princess! Put on a crown and grab your sword!!
His warrior princess,
Bekahlynn
(photos are the sole property of Hannah Elizabeth Shaffer and can be used with permission through submitting request through hannahberryfin@yahoo.com)
I ventured to the woods this week to do some planning for the rest of the year at Saving Grace. I brought two friends along and we have laughed until we cried on more than one occasion (don’t ask) and had several moments where “you had to be there” would best describe it. I am always amazed how through out my life God has brought about the right people for the right time…for such a time as this.
As we planned and hashed out schedules, worked on the budget, dreamed about the program and prayed for our precious residents….I had my SG sister chicks pause and change their smarty pants into their creative pants and I talked them through my version of “Joy in a Box” from Ann Voskamp’s “One Thousand Gifts” and website http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/03/the-best-gift-when-you-want-to-give-someone-joy-in-a-box/ One friend is crazy creative and the other a bit timid when it comes to expressing herself creatively. The end result was that both women were crazy and a little out of control creative….which involved a trip to Michael’s in Branson for more things to add to the outside of their “Joy in a Box”….laughing until we cried and secretly believing we shouldn’t be having so much fun “working”. Oh the JOY!
My favorite part of “Joy in a Box” is filling it for someone I love! I had a dear friend recently who suffered the greatest loss any woman should have to endure…losing her 21 year old son. The unspeakable grief and she was 2000 miles away. I grieved uncontrollable sobs for her and for her husband. He was a precious boy and my mama heart couldn’t possibly go to the depths of despair that her mama heart suffers. I decided to make her a box….and as I did my prayer and cries on her behalf were more focused and I began the hunt to fill it.
I filled it with scripture as words failed me and each time I wanted to write her I felt disgust for what my silly little words might mean and if they would ever comfort her…so I went to the Father and His word.
22 Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, Because His compassions fail not. 23 They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness. 24 “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “Therefore I hope in Him!”
Are you missing JOY? Ann Voskamp challenges us to find it right where we are. Do you see gifts God surrounds you with? Look up..how’s that sky? Look down….paint those toes!! Look beside you….are those little eyes blue, brown, green? Praise Him for the smallest blessings…like bare feet and bubbles to the big stuff…family, friends, jobs…start counting and find that JOY!
God’s grateful girl,
Becky
Psalm 136
1 Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good.
His love endures forever.
2 Give thanks to the God of gods.
His love endures forever.
3 Give thanks to the Lord of lords:
His love endures forever.
4 to him who alone does great wonders,
His love endures forever.
5 who by his understanding made the heavens,
His love endures forever.
6 who spread out the earth upon the waters,
His love endures forever.
7 who made the great lights—
His love endures forever.
8 the sun to govern the day,
His love endures forever.
9 the moon and stars to govern the night;
His love endures forever.
10 to him who struck down the firstborn of Egypt
His love endures forever.
11 and brought Israel out from among them
His love endures forever.
12 with a mighty hand and outstretched arm;
His love endures forever.
13 to him who divided the Red Sea[a] asunder
His love endures forever.
14 and brought Israel through the midst of it,
His love endures forever.
15 but swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea;
His love endures forever.
16 to him who led his people through the wilderness;
His love endures forever.
17 to him who struck down great kings,
His love endures forever.
18 and killed mighty kings—
His love endures forever.
19 Sihon king of the Amorites
His love endures forever.
20 and Og king of Bashan—
His love endures forever.
21 and gave their land as an inheritance,
His love endures forever.
22 an inheritance to his servant Israel.
His love endures forever.
23 He remembered us in our low estate
His love endures forever.
24 and freed us from our enemies.
His love endures forever.
25 He gives food to every creature.
His love endures forever.
26 Give thanks to the God of heaven.
His love endures forever.
Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat. ~Mother Teresa
I got up early this Monday morning to walk to school so I was sure to have breakfast. The bed is soaked with urine, as I’ve once again wet the bed in the night. I lay the Bible aside that I’ve slept with and quietly get dressed….my underwear still wet. I haven’t eaten much in two days, so getting to school early enough to have breakfast is my focus. I get started and talk to God on the way. There were times when I begged His forgiveness for my sinful behavior in not obeying my mother and there were others that I asked him for a mommy and daddy to care for me. My oldest sister Lilly (12 years old) walks beside me and asked what I was thinking about…I don’t say. She loves me and I love her. She’s more like a mama to me, though I don’t realize it at the time. She works so hard to feed us on weekends when the cupboards are bare. She borrows bread from a neighbor and we eat mustard sandwiches. There’s always milk thanks to Betty the milk lady. She delivers it each week in glass gallon jugs I can hardly lift. Lilly always gives me the first glass, which is mostly sweet cream….she giggles when I drink it and squishes up her nose and pretends she doesn’t much like it.
I get to school and hurry to the cafeteria and try to fill an empty stomach on all they offer…I sit and eat so fast and still feel hungry…then my tummy hurts, it goes through me almost as soon as I swallow the last bite. I head down the first grade hall, eager to see my teacher. I’m not a good student, a terrible reader…but I love school. Mrs. Sherrill greets me at the door of her classroom with a hug that makes me feel as if I am her child. She turns my face up to hers and asked if I had a good weekend and if I’m ready to learn….I say the word “yes”, but my wounded heart and unseen bruises cry silently behind smiles. We walk over to the sink and brush my teeth, wash my face and hands and put on her good smelling lotion…which has become routine. She begins to brush the tangles out of my hair with the gentleness of a loving mother, and then pulls my long thick hair back with a ribbon. She hugs me again…I don’t want to let go….with gentleness that can’t be describe, she takes my face in her hands and says she loves me…but her tender eyes say more than her words and I walk to my desk with confidence that I am loved, as the children begin to file in.
Mrs. Sherrill always seemed to find ways to take care of me without drawing attention….tucking ribbons for my hair into my valentine bag or new panties into my Easter basket. She was patient when I came in each day without homework done or papers signed…Mama never checked these things and when it was time to sign my report card, the only reason she did so was to keep the teacher from coming to visit. Nobody was allowed into our world and Mama always doing just enough to keep them out.
Over the years I’ve prayed for Mrs. Sherrill, asking God to bless her for the kindness and unconditional love she extended to me…not just while I was in her class during first grade, but for the next two years when I would rather stay by her side on the play ground, than to play with childhood friends. She planted a seed in my heart that year, that others would water and God would grow. I often asked God for the opportunity to thank her.
It would be over thirty years later; when it appeared that I would lose most of the people I love due to speaking the truth…. God would allow me the privilege to thank her. I reached out to the elementary school from my childhood in Mena, Arkansas. I sent a note to the principal and the 
school counselor and asked them to share what Mrs. Sherrill had done in my life all those years before and thank each teacher for the investment in the lives of children….this simple gesture brought comfort to my breaking heart. I was drowning in the pain of the present and longing for unconditional love from the past.
God so graciously allowed me to hear from my first grade teacher that week…she was now Mrs. (Barbara) Genung, but her heart was the same gentle and loving woman I’d known all those years before and she was still teaching first grade and loving all those babies in her class. I began to cry as I read her email.…sobs shaking my body, I knew this was God’s tender way of reminding me that He would never leave me or forsake me…this would happen for weeks after as Barbara and I emailed almost daily. This was the beginning of unspeakable healing from the most closed off places of the heart of a wounded little girl.
On one occasion I shared with Barbara that I often dreamed she was my mother when I was a child and often found myself hoping and praying for a mother like her. She said something to me in response that brings a smile to my heart and tears to my eyes even now….She called me the daughter of her heart. I’m not sure she truly understands what a wealth of grief of feeling completely alone and abandoned; she lifted by that one sentence. I love her with the heart of a little girl who knows Her Heavenly Father, The Father of Lights, brought the mother of my heart back into my life for such a time as this.
James 1:17
Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.
Psalm 30:11-12
You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent. LORD my God, I will praise you forever.
I’ve had an incredible response to my post “Good for Nothing…”, but it also brought about hard feelings from a family member who doesn’t feel I should share our families dirty laundry. It’s interesting to me that I hear from them only when they want to manipulate me into doing something. I’m 42 years old….you would think we would be past this…not so much. Here’s my point in sharing this with you…do not keep silent! Do not keep silent about what God has done in your life!!! Allow Him to heal those wounded places in your heart and then tell everyone what He has done! We are only here but for a moment….oppressed and chained to your past is no way to exist. I found myself focusing on the one negative and not focusing on all of the women who shared stories with me and encouraged me to continue.
I have so much more to share, He has done great things! My praise for Him burst from my heart and I can’t stop thanking Him for what He’s done! Woot!
His grateful girl,
Becky
….to be continued!
As I walked in and shut the door, I knew I was in trouble. Mama had been sleeping when I left, and the look on her face told me what was coming. She sent me to the bedroom and told me to get on the bed. I cleared it (of clothes and trash…there were never sheets) while she yelled for me to “Hurry up and get undressed! You are going to learn not to make me worry!” I took my clothes off and climbed up on the bed, trembling as I knew what was next. She screamed she didn’t know where I had been and I had caused her to worry that I had been hurt or taken….followed by, “If anyone ever did take you they wouldn’t keep you for long! You are good for nothing! Do you hear me? Good for N-O-T-H-I-N-G!” she screeched. The little girl I was didn’t know to ask why someone so concerned about my safety would beat me with such reckless abandon. My tiny bare body begins to shake as her screams make their way into the room. In the future I would learn to be more careful. I did my best to leave and return home undetected; ideally when she was sleeping. Today I would pay for my miscalculation.
With each blow of the belt on bare flesh, I gasp from the pain. The sound of the box fan in the window creates an eerie harmony with the screams coming from the one who loathes my existence. I cry quietly, my small body willing itself still. I try with all my might not to move and accept the beating; any reaction to defend myself fuels her rage. She grabs my long hair and jerks my head back to the point I fight consciousness….finally the room goes black. The unconscious moments provide a temporary escape, but when I awaken the blows begin again. She continues the assault until she is spent and unable to continue. She stops suddenly with a deep sigh, almost as if she’s defeated. I do not make eye contact, sobs convulsing my entire body. She leaves the room and eventually I hear deep breathing coming from the next bedroom. I quietly get dressed and make my way out to the back yard…still the deep, quiet sobs shake my seven-year old frame. In our backyard, I lay down in the grass, as I often do and look up at the sky, wiping away the tears with the back of my hand only to find I’m bleeding, not realizing my eardrum has been ruptured from the blows. I wipe away the blood, longing for kisses to take away the hurt.
The fear subsides, sobs fade and my breathing steadies. My tears begin to dry on my soft cheeks. I pray for forgiveness for being such a sinful child….her screams echoing in my heart, “You are a child of the devil, you don’t ever mind me and you will rot in hell for it Rebekah!”
The name Rebekah literally means Tied Up but more specific (and more friendly) is Secured. As a little girl I hated my name. The only one who ever used my given name was my mother. Hearing it invoked unspeakable fear. I wanted so badly for my mother to love me, but she could not give what she had never been given. My grandmother was even more abusive to my mother than she was to me, but it would be years before I would know that. I hardly knew my grandfather growing up…only that we always received a check from him at Christmas and a visit in the summer. He was always kind and I felt safe when I was with him. I had three older siblings (five, six and seven years older than me) and one five years younger. The abuse I suffered at the hands of my mother went virtually undetected by neighbors, teachers and the church we attended. My older siblings were out of the house one by one in my early childhood. I adored them. For many years I believed there was a tiny angel who looked after me and it would be years later that I would find out it was my older sister Lilly, who was the tender age of six when I was born. I find it ironic that my name means “tied up” or “secured”. God has given me such security in Him, such peace and forgiveness…I have security in who I am in Christ Jesus. I remember as a little girl hearing someone read Psalm 27:10 to me;
When my father and my mother forsake me,
Then the LORD will take care of me.
I believe the Word for what it said. As crazy as my home life was, mama always had us in church. I was taught the Word of God was living and breathing and would protect me… I was terrified of my mother and often I would go to sleep at night with a Bible on my chest for fear that she would kill me in my sleep.
However, Ephesians 6:1-3 says;
1 Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. 2 “Honor your father and mother,” which is the first commandment with promise: 3 “that it may be well with you and you may live long on the earth.”[a]
I believed with everything that was in me, if I didn’t start “minding” my mother…I would die. I had no idea that this violence was not spurred on through the disobedience of a little girl, yet from generations of abuse (on my grandmother’s side of the family).
One last scripture that stuck with me through all of this, Hebrews 13:5;
Let your conduct be without covetousness; be content with such things as you have. For He Himself has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”[a]
He never left me during these times of unspeakable violence at the hands of my mother. He gave me strength and as I forgave Mama later in my life, He began to write His story about me…. I felt His presence every moment of every day. I have a hard story to read, but I was not robbed of my childhood due to the courage I received from knowing I was/am His baby girl! I invite you to join me on this journey. I pray it will help to bring you to a closer relationship to the Lover of YOUR soul and that as you cry with me, that you will also join me at the feet of Jesus and allow Him to heal the deepest and most private places of your heart.
Decked in Wildflowers 