Happy 7th Birthday, Corey!

Corey Christian comes to town
June 30, 2005

Corey came into our lives on a warm evening in June.   From the moment I looked into his eyes, he stole my heart.

He is my quiet(er) son.  The tenderhearted, sensitive, happy-most-of-the-time child.  His name means "God's Peace" and that is who my Corey is.   He brings calm and joy almost each time he enters a room  and I remind myself often to sit and hold him... to drink in the smell of little boy... feel his soft, blonde hair... watch his eyes twinkle with mischief and listen to him tell me about his day.  

Corey's birth had it's complications and I thank God often for the gift of Corey, for had His grace not been upon us that last day of June, our lives could be so different.

Today, we celebrate seven years of holding close, laughing with, caring for and loving deeply a little boy named Corey.

Handsome and tenderhearted

Future farmer

Joyful heart

At Uncle Mat's wedding with Daddy

Mommy-Heart-Melter

Best friends with Kobe

Finds joy in the little things

Co-conspirators with Amy

Riding with his hero, Tyler

Happy birthday, Corey!  

We love you!!

Empty Spaces

I step outside the door into the evening summer sun in time to see it happen.  His large eyes, so much like his father's, are filled with determination and my heart melts at the tenderhearted towhead before me.  At the same time, I wince in sorrow at the sight of what he's just done.

He looks at me, pleased by his efforts.  And I, too, am pleased.  His heart's desire was to bless me, and despite the damage, I am blessed.

I reach for the container he holds in his hands and smile down at him.  Lifting his chin with my finger, I look deeply in his eyes, "Thanks buddy.  Mama appreciates your help."

His smile mirrors mine and we stand together looking at the flowers.  I know I must tell him.

"This isn't fertilizer, buddy."

He swings his eyes up to meet mine.  "It's not?"

"No."  I say.  "It's weed-killer."  We look back down at the flowers that would never bloom.

"You mean they're gonna die?"

"Yes."

"I didn't know, Mama."

"I know.  It's ok."

We walk hand in hand to the shop, my boy and I, and put away the garden tools.  

I considered making a trip to Home Depot.  Considered replanting.  Considered what might have been. But I chose instead to let it lie dormant in the dry, heat of summer.  And to my surprise, I find myself loving that empty flowerbed more than if it were bursting with the reds and yellows I had intended.

The empty spaces remind me that I have a Father who knows my heart.  He understands that sometimes my best efforts fall far short of perfection.  He recognizes that though I fail, my desire is to serve Him.  To bring Him glory.  To fill His heart with delight.

And there is nothing I could do, to make Him stop loving me.

O LORD, you have searched me and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.

Psalm 139

Rest

Life. It's a busy place.

Constant pressures, demands, need-to-do's and want-to-do's can drive a woman crazy.  Yet the message  I hear repeated over and over again has been "REST".

I hear it in on the radio, at church, at a women's conference... even in my quiet times alone with God.  Can I just be honest here?

It started getting on my nerves?

I don't have time to rest!

I'm not against resting.  But more times than not, I feel more like the proverbial woman who's lamp does not go out at night - and frankly, I'd be ready to pull the plug for a few hours of shut-eye.

Let me explain - though most mama's will completely understand.  I do sleep.  I do rest.  I even get approximately twenty-four minutes a little quiet time most evenings on the couch next to Tim before one of us goes slack-jawed and cross eyed in our attempt to stay awake, but I find it hard to feel at rest.

There is so. much. to. do!


And I can't make them it go away!  Four kids, twenty hens, one cow, couple of cats and a lazy ole' dog will produce more signs of life than seems possible.  Add that on top of numerous other projects and responsibilities and my days are packed full!

And I'm ok with that, but, well.. a break would be nice!  It just seems impossible.

Still, there it hung.  The constant reminder to rest?

This morning while running, I was tired.

Wanted to quit.

Wanted to die rest.

I was only halfway to my goal and quitting wasn't on my agenda.  I knew it was simply mind over matter.  Take another step.  Keep moving.  Don't quit. (Funny how a weedy ditch covered in dew can look more welcoming than a Sleep Number Bed... with clean sheets.)

Keeping my eyes on the road, I kept moving and a verse came to my mind.

"Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee."  Isaiah 26:3.  

Peace.

Rest.

Ahhh.. and herein lies the secret!

I couldn't quit halfway through my run.  I hadn't reached my goal yet.  And though everything within me cried out for a break... I knew I couldn't stop.

That's motherhood... that's life!  (Don't get me wrong - every woman needs a break.. take one!  I'm speaking of motherhood/life as a whole - start to finish)

I realized that I could lie in a  hammock under the shade of palm trees for a week straight...

I could listen to the sounds of the ocean waves and sea gulls calling to one another overhead while waiting for a maid to deliver a luncheon of Strawberry Spinach salad and Black Tie Mousse Cake (and a slice of pizza cause I'm really just a simple country girl)...

I could be in the most peaceful place on earth, yet still not be at rest.

Why?

Because resting is birthed in the mind.

It is learning to focus on He Who gives strength, whispers peace, offers joy and envelops with love.

Deliberately turning away from the worries of

'Can I make it?'

'Am I strong enough?'

'What will happen?'

'What if I fail?'

'Will I ever get a break?'

To,

'You, oh Lord, are good!'

'You are my Rock!'

'In You, I find peace.'

'You are my strength!'

'You are worthy of all my praise!'

And later, as I sat on my front porch step, resting, breathing in the freshness of morning, I realized the difference focus had made.

I had felt stronger.  Ready to run again.  Renewed.  Encouraged.  Energized.

I had reached my goal with ease and it felt good!

Physical rest isn't always an option (at least, not the amount we'd like), but God keeps us steady on our feet when I shift our eyes towards Him.

He takes our burdens and replaces it with rest.

People with their minds set on you, 

you keep completely whole,

Steady on their feet,

because they keep at it and don't quit.

Depend on God and keep at it

because in the Lord God you have a sure thing.

Isaiah 26

"This is the time and place to rest,
   to give rest to the weary.
This is the place to lay down your burden." 

Isaiah 28

YOU Had a JOB?!

I love speaking truth into my children's lives... seeing them grasp ahold of new concepts and applying it to their lives.

I love watching them learn..  watching them grow.

This morning during Bible time was no exception.   The kids were gathered around listening to Kobe read (a.k.a. lip syncing along with the British man that lives inside my Bible app) from James.  Our topic was humility so after Kobe had finished "reading", I expounded on the benefits of not being proud and admitting when you need help.

"I learned that quickly at my first job, kids," I said.  "My boss taught me that it's always best to ask for help rather than try to stumble along on my own.  You see, too many times we don't want to ask for help from others... simply because of our pride."

The kids were all listening - at least half-heartedly, but Corey... Corey was watching me with awe in his eyes.  My mother-heart warmed to see him soaking in all the wisdom I was so anxious to impart into his life.

I have to admit to a measure of pride swelling up in my heart as I watched his face looking up at me with rapt-attention, his eyes wide with amazement.  But the moment passed all too soon, and my balloon of pride burst, plummeting me back to earth when he opened up his mouth.  

Rather than ask for more advice on living a humble life... or thanking me for taking the time to share such wonderful insight, my very impressed little boy said, "WHAT?  YOOOUUU had a JOB?!?" 

His eyes were huge and his mouth hung slack.

I stared at him for a second.  

Laughed.  

Then announced that Bible time was over.  

Maybe that lesson on humility was actually more for me than it was for the kids!  :)

Hannah Revealed - Part 10

If you are unfamiliar with the Redemption Story of Hannah - you might want to start reading here.




In each of the stories I write, my hope is that others will see themselves in the characters on the page.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this story is being concluded a week from Father’s Day.  Men, if you have a little girl, this story is for you!  You may never fully understand how important your place is in the lives of your children.  You can provide all the toys, the clothes, and food they’ll ever want, but no amount of value can be placed on your time.

Your daughters need to hear you say, “I love you”, “you’re awesome!”,  “you look beautiful today” and “I’m so proud to be your dad”.  I would venture to say that your focused time and attention on your daughter could save her a world of heartache in the end.

And ladies, let this story remind you that there is only one source of unfailing love in this world.  Many of us have chased after meaning and purpose and beauty and value.  But no one, and no thing is able to fill that void without eventually letting us down!  

Hear me when I say this.  You cannot expect your beauty, your parents, your friends, your boyfriend, your spouse, your kids... you can’t expect them to be the source by which you measure your value.  

As flawed human beings are all unable to provide a perfect love for another - why should we expect it in return?

Psalm 48, reminds us to ponder God’s love in action. 

Your name, oh God, evokes a train of Hallelujahs!  

Your arms are heaped with goodness in action.  

Let us see Your wonderful works.  

Let us recognize Your desire to pour out that 

love and goodness into our own lives.  

Who Is Hannah?

Hannah came into my life on a snowy winter night many years ago.  Joy seemed to exude from her and though our encounter was short, I never forget her.  Through the next years, Hannah was in and out of my life - always cheerful... always happy.  Her life appeared fabulous and exciting in comparison to my own.  

A battle with depression and bitterness had stolen too much from me already and I was sure Hannah would never understand the pain buried deep within my heart.  Years passed by and eventually, I too discovered the gift of God’s redemptive love.  So when I had the opportunity to hear Hannah tell her life’s story, I was reminded once again that we must never judge a book by it’s cover.  

You see, Hannah had every reason to quit.  She had every excuse to give up.  Still, she discovered her value - her worth, when she saw herself through the eyes of her Creator.    Though her story is one of heartache and pain, she is a reflection of God’s redemptive power.  He is the reason for her joy!

Today, Hannah is a light not only to her family and friends, but also her community.  Each morning she rises up and blesses thousands with a love that can only come from Jesus.   Her cheerful voice and contagious laughter is recognized by many as it carries across the airwaves and into our lives.  You may know her best as half of WFRN’s morning show - Doug and Vincy in the Morning, and I’m honored to be able to reveal her true identity to you, 

Her name is Vincy Williamowski!  

Vincy, along with her husband Tom and their five beautiful children came to my home church, FFM, this morning to worship with us and to reveal her identity as the Hannah in this story.  Vincy’s testimony is amazing and I’m blessed to call her my friend! 

You can hear her each weekday morning on WFRN or, like myself, enjoy those morsels of encouragement she doles out on occasion through her Facebook page - Vincy Speaks.

In Awe and Wonder

Tears close.  Steps shaky.  Heart full.

But at peace.

Other-worldly peace.

Yesterday, was not unlike so many other days.  Full of activity and long to-do lists.

Spent the morning with friends.  Picked up kids at noon (last day of school).  Celebrated with a picnic, silly string wars and ice cream at the party store.

Struggled with fear, nerves, and excitement. (Tomorrow is Redemption Sunday).  Inward battle within my soul (completely unrelated to Redemption Sunday) and complete awe of my God who calmed my nerves, sent the Hornet about before me (even saw hornets all day long!), and gave me resolutions for my inward battle... resolutions that were obviously not from within my selfish, human spirit.

It was also the day I almost lost my husband.

He was shocked by an electrical current.  The blister, the wounds, and the look in his eyes told me how bad it really was... how bad it could have been.

The waters I am called to walk upon threaten to overtake me... I look down at the what if's splashing around my ankles and I shudder.   Just as quickly, I am reminded of my Hornet and I lift my eyes to the One who calms my quaking heart.

He is capable.  He is loving.  And He is good.

...Your glory is a blanket that covers

Every living thing

I’m in awe at the majesty of who You are

Your love is a seal burnt inside my heart

All of the day I want to be where You are

Holy Father

And it feels like there’s not enough praise inside of me

With all these words, all my heart can sing is holy

You are holy

Jesus Christ

You bled Your love, laid down Yourself

And gave me life

In naked shame You hung and You were lifted high

Here I lay in awe and wonder

I am afraid

For no one’s ever sacrificed and loved me this way

So on my face I fall under Your heavy grace

Here I lay in awe and wonder

And I wonder...

-Leeland

A Stormy Situation

It's dry.

Again.

A farmer's wife seems to always have the petition for rain on her prayer list, and today is no different.

I am reminded of the need each time I look at my van.

Wash me!

A thick layer of dust connects across each hill and valley of its exterior, separated only by the occasional handprint and imploring "wash me" memo written carefully by the hand of an unidentified child.

But, alas, there are baseball players to deliver, piano students to transport, and swimmers to take to the welcoming waters of Pawpaw's pool.  There are meals to bring to weary farmers, groceries to transfer home and bags of grain to hand over to the hungry cow waiting within the gaping doors of a big red barn.

I contemplated washing the ole girl today, but the billowing dust of the driveway informed me of the uselessness of it all.  Before sunset, my van would likely sport yet another garment of grime so instead I checked the sky, longing for a storm... or even a hint of rain.

Storms instigate fear.  For many, it's surging winds, green skies and pelting rains strike panic within their hearts.  As a child, I was one such person.  But I've learned something fascinating from the eagle, and so I must share.

Eagles love storms!

They can detect storms long before the dark clouds cover the horizon and, according to research, the eagles become "excited" when they see a storm approaching.  They don't escape the storm - instead they use those gale force winds to carry them higher than ever before.


I thought of that today as I zipped across country roads.  Hot, sunny days are what so many long to hear on the weather forecast.  Still, to have endless days of summer sun would ultimately leave us with  powdery dust and parched soil.

No growth.

No bounty.

Only famine.

And despair.

And death.

Rising up like an eagle is a common phrase in our society, but can I suggest even more?  Life will have it's share of storms, can we welcome their disturbances in our lives?  Can we become excited as we see the storms impending arrival?

It is above the storms winds that an eagle is able to find rest, for there it is able to soar effortlessly, forced by the angry gusts to climb higher where it can enjoy the unbroken, panoramic display of the earth below.

Welcome the storms.  Lift up your hands to Your Creator.  Let Him teach your spirit how to rise above the howling winds and deafening thunder.  He has the power to take you higher than ever before and there you'll find rest as you drink in the beauty of His majesty and power.

Your righteousness reaches to the skies,

O God, you who have done great things. Who, O God, is like you? 

Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter,

you will restoremy life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up.

You will increase my honor and comfort me once again. 

I will praise you with the harp for your faithfulness, O my God;

I will sing praise to you with the lyre, O Holy One of Israel. 

My lips will shout for joy when I sing praise to you--

I, whom you have redeemed. 

Psalm 71:19-23

At Peace - Hannah's Story Part 9

Hannah's Redemption Story

Part 1

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

Part 8

At Peace

Part 9

Years have passed since the day I found Jesus there at my kitchen table.

My, how life has changed.

I’ll never forget the look in Thomas’ eyes as I walked down the aisle to marry him that beautiful June day.  My heart melted with love for him, and I thanked God for blessing me with a man who would love and cherish me... just as I am.  Thomas truly is my gift from God.

Funny how life can take you full circle at times.  It was only recently when I once again found myself in a beautiful garden.  The grass beneath my feet was cold and soggy from yet another Indiana winter and the tall trees beyond where I stood hung their branches overhead, biding their time until they would yet again clap their leaves in the summertime breezes.

Sorrow squeezed at my heart, and I brushed at the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes.

He was gone.  Daddy. 

This time, his disappearance from my life would not be heralded by tail lights in the night, but rather the white of rose petals on a coffin and the gray of a tombstone.  

He was gone.

The little girl in the garden stood with me.  Her hand in mine and together we grieved.  Still, there was a tranquility in her eyes, for though she had suffered much pain and disappointment, she and Daddy had made their peace and somehow constructed a relationship out of the fragments of the broken past.  I knew she would be ok.

And so would I.

That night after the children had been tucked into bed, I stepped outside to watch the night sky.  Thinking of Daddy, of gardens, and goodbyes.  And as I stood there, I realized how much like the Hannah of the Bible my life had been.

That Hannah had spent years pursuing the one thing she wanted most - a child.  She had begged, pleaded, fought and cried, yet her desires were not granted.  Then one day, she’d promised God to give her child back to him in service to him, if only he would bless her with a son.

God’s answer was yes, and in response, Hannah worshipped.

I considered how quickly the time must have been before Hannah was placing her much-loved son into the care of those at the Temple.  

Didn’t her mother-heart break?  But again, she worshipped.  Her heart rejoiced and she declared to all who listened that God rekindles burned-out lives with fresh hope!

I laughed with delight!  That was it!

I, like Hannah, had held a longing in the core of my being for so long.  I had pursued the love and acceptance I hadn’t found in my father’s care as a child.  And, like Hannah, I had found the fulfillment of my dreams through the promises of my Abba Father.  He would never leave me or forsake me.

But now?  The letting go?  It hurt.  Goodbyes always carry some measure of pain.  But I saw in Hannah an abundant joy from knowing she was complete - with or without the fulfillment of her earthly desires held tightly in her arms. 

Complete because of the One Who kept her in His care.

I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, hoping to ward off the chilly winter air.   And I smiled.

My journey had brought me to this very moment.  This moment alone with my Father.  I lifted my hands in praise to Him, for He had pulled me out of the depths of my despair and given me a life worth living.  His love for me had filled the gaping hole in my heart that no other one or no other thing could fill.

He had become my everything!

In Him I had discovered that which my heart desired.  

It was real.

It was perfect.

Perfect love.

So like Hannah, I worshipped.

TO BE CONCLUDED...

WHO IS HANNAH?    Hannah's story will conclude next Sunday, June 10th at 10:00AM at Firm Foundation Ministries - my home church. Hannah will be coming to reveal her true identity as well as testify to the grace of God in her life.

I invite you to come, as I know you will be able to appreciate the life that Hannah now lives. She is an amazing person who inspires me daily! Hannah's story conclusion will be posted here as well.

Please feel free to share this link with others. As I've listened to Hannah tell me her story... as I write these words, I am struck over and over again at the importance of father/daughter relationships. I began this series, praying it would encourage young women - teenage women... that it would help them find their value in Christ alone. But the more I listen, the more I write, the more I realize the lesson in here for fathers as well.

If you haven't already, be sure to subscribe to Walking on Water (top right corner), and plan to join us each Monday as Hannah's story continues to unfold.

Life Interrupted: Losing My Hair

If you are new to Vicky's story, you may want to begin here.

Losing My Hair

The Journey of Jehovah Rapha's Daughter

by Victoria Overholt

I won't forget that day, Thursday March 8, the day before my second heavy duty chemo treatment. My Derek sent me a text message after 10 am asking me if my hair was falling out yet, LOL?, because he need a haircut. The kids had already decided early in my diagnosis that they were going to have their heads shaved with me when my hair started to fall out. 

I told Derek that it hadn't started to fall out yet. I went into the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and ran my fingers through my hair. Clumps of hair came out from between my fingers. My heart started to beat very fast. Even though I knew it probably was going to happen, when it actually did it was a big dose of reality.

I texted Derek back and told him what just happened. Lord, You know that sense of humor you gave to my son? He was using it, trying to make me feel better. He was texting and telling me that I need to get over the hair thing and just get it shaved. He said it's just a step in the process of getting better. He told me I wouldn't want it to fall out in the shower, that would suck. I told him that he was right. I know he's
26 years old, my youngest, and he sounded really grown up to me. It's a strange but comforting feeling when a child you have raised is the one offering encouragement to their parent. 

Penny had already decided that when the time came to shave my head, she and Carol were going to open the salon on a Sunday to do this for me and my family. I called Clarice and told her it needed to be the following Sunday. I had read somewhere that a person could lose 50% of their hair without it being noticeable that it was gone. I had thought I could do that, but I hadn't realized that the falling out was the distressing part as it gets all over. There were pieces of my hair sticking on my Trinity's clothes and I knew I didn't want that. 

The next day Betty took me to my second treatment. I didn't wear a scarf and I remember telling her on the way home that even the roots of my hair felt strange, as if my hair wanted to jump off. She said, "You mean your hair wants to jump ship?" Yes, exactly that. She's so funny Lord.

Clarice got everything set up for Sunday at the salon. By then, I'm wearing a scarf to hold pieces of my hair on my head. I was surprised when we walked into the salon and Clarice started to set up to play some CD's. She had ordered pizza and nachos for everyone. It was a party, a celebration, a way to take some control of the situation. It was as Derek had said, a step in the process of getting better. 

Lord, You know that even though it was a celebration, I was somewhat apprehensive. I was overwhelmed and humbled at the thought of my children having their heads shaved. I wondered about my daughter. It seems as a society we put a lot of value on our hair, especially as women. Well, a lot of men too. She was willingly having her long, thick, beautiful, healthy hair shaved off and her husband was supporting her. I had to wonder how many men would do that. 

Derek was the first one in the chair, because he needed a haircut right? He had let his hair grow quite long. Carol shaved Gunnar's hair and put long pink strands in Tia's, Tabby's and Nikki's hair. I do believe those beautiful girls are still wearing them. 

Then Lord, there's my Austin, my least talkative child, who decides he's going to get a pink mohawk. Now this is going to raise some conversation and take him out of his comfort zone. You know, he's a fairly good-sized grown man with a wife and three sons sporting a huge pink mohawk.

Oh yes, with the support of my wonderful daughter-in-law who hangs out with him. He kept the mohawk for weeks and was met with many comments, rude looks, threats and gestures. He had many stories to tell. One about a man standing in line behind him at the gas station. The man was talking out loud about the way people dress and their hair ect. Austin told him that before he made a jerk of himself, his mother had breast cancer and he did this to show his love and support for her. The man just said, "oh". 

When I shared this story with my doctor, he told us of an example in a book by Steven Covey. It was about a man and his children on the subway. The children were being unruly and the father wasn't disciplining them as the other passengers felt he should be. He seemed kind of oblivious to their behavior. 

When the father was approached by the other passengers about his children, he apologized and told the people that his wife had just died and they had left the hospital not more than an hour ago. Neither he nor his children knew how to act at that point. I knew that story and wondered how often I had been like those people. Maybe we see someone in a store and we think they must be a loser because of the clothes they're wearing or they have no teeth. 

That's not what you want us to do Lord. You want us to care about the heart of that person and not be afraid to even have a conversation with them or give them a smile. My perspective has changed most recently Lord. 

What have I to be afraid of anymore?

It was Clarice's turn in the chair. I held her hand. She said, "You're making it worse Mom", but she didn't let go. 

It was my turn in the chair.

Kari Jobe "Healer" was playing on the CD player. I was singing. Clarice and Ronnie were holding my hands. My hair fell to the floor.

Lord, You have shown me what is good. And what do you require of me? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with my God.

Micah 6:8

I humble myself in the presence of the Lord and He will exalt me. (He will lift me up and make my life significant) James 4:10

I humble myself under the mighty hand of God, and in His good time He will lift me up. 1 Peter 5:6

I'm so blessed and thankful for the wonderful family and friends you have given me and the love and support they show.  Today as I look in the mirror at my bald head and very little eyelashes or eyebrows, these things that a woman may get a lot of her beauty and value from, I want to believe that maybe I will see myself as You see me, in Your image and for Your Glory.

To close Lord, I wouldn't be offended if You decided to keep my leg hair and unwanted facial hair.
Love, Me

Victoria, her children and the stylists

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