A Birthday Gift

Well, hello, blog. Sorry it’s been awhile.

Since the last time I wrote, I had a birthday - 28.

To some of you that is old, and to some that is young, but to me it’s just…weird.

I remember being in high school and thinking 20 was ancient. At 28 I thought you were basically dead, or at least really, really boring. Contrary to my high school expectations, I’m liking 28 so far. It’s only been about 12 days since we were introduced, but so far she’s been good to me.

On my birthday, Micah took me to see the movie Thor. I recognize that many girls would not file this high on the birthday agenda, but a little known fact about me is that I love super hero movies. Batman, Superman, Spiderman, X-Men. You name it. It definitely comes from my Dad, who also introduced me to similar movies like Star Wars, Star Trek, Indiana Jones and the like. But, super hero movies were always his (and therefore my and my brother’s) favorite. We would go see one at the theatre and then go to Chili’s and analyze the entire plot over chicken fingers. I love those memories.

As I’ve grown I’ve realized there were many things that drew me to these types of stories. I loved the hero rescuing the girl. I loved that the characters were special. I loved the moment they discovered the power within them. I loved the concept of good conquering evil. I loved the seemingly impossible odds. It all fascinated me, and it still does. So, needless to say, I was excited to see Thor.

And I loved it. Maybe a little too much.

When the movie ended I felt sad. That might sound strange, but I started to have this thought that life is just not that exciting. I was pissed that Micah isn’t ripped, wears a suit of armor, and has access to some alternate universe. I was angry that we were sitting in a movie theatre and not doing something adventurous and of the utmost importance…maybe saving lives or conquering kingdoms or I don’t know ANYTHING! So, in my slight depression we  went home.

As I crawled into bed that night as a 28 year old non-super hero (or super hero wife) I reluctantly turned in my devotional to June 11th. It said this:

“There he broke the flashing arrows,
the shield, the sword, and the weapons of war.” –Psalm 76:3

Our Redeemer’s glorious cry of “It is finished,” was the death-knell of all the adversaries of his people, the breaking of the arrows of the bow, the shield, and the sword, and the battle.” Behold the hero of Golgotha using his cross as an anvil, and his woes as a hammer, dashing to shivers bundle after bundle of our sins, those poisoned “arrows of the bow;” trampling on every indictment, and destroying every accusation. What glorious blows the mighty Breaker gives with a hammer far more ponderous than the fabled weapon of Thor!

Beloved, no sin of a believer can now be an arrow mortally to wound him, no condemnation can now be a sword to kill him, for the punishment of our sin was borne by Christ, a full atonement was made for all our iniquities by our blessed Substitute and Surety.

I was stunned, and simply prayed…

Thank you, Jesus, for rescuing me and loving me. Thank you for being my strong protector. Thank you for making me special. Thank you for helping me realize the power within me that you have given me. Thank you for being the good that conquers all evil. Thank you for conquering even when it seems impossible. Thank you that you are coming back for me.

Amen.

Well I did it...We did it

It only took a life altering snow storm for me to do something I've been thinking about for awhile - starting a blog. I had lots of hesitations, but they mostly fell in the middle school insecurity category, so I'm going for it.  


I'm currently sitting in a hotel room in Atlanta with two friends - Teressa and Caitlin - who have become even dearer friends in the last 48 hours. The three of us all work for Young Life in different towns, and we came together with several hundred other staff for a training this week at Sharp Top Cove (a YL camp 90 miles outside of Atlanta). I love these girls. They laugh at my jokes, I laugh at theirs, they pray for me, and typically at these types of mass trainings I stick unashamedly close to them. I would consider myself an outgoing person on the normal range of humans, but gathering 300 extreme extroverts in one room totally overwhelms me. I age 50 years, and go to bed by 10PM, and read alot, and do not participate in the array of dance-party-type activities. 


But, I digress...


On Sunday the three of us realized a multiple-day blizzard was scheduled to arrive that night in Georgia, so we left early and went ahead to Atlanta to be close to the airport. When we arrived at our hotel we felt tired and hungry, but accomplished, especially since my mom snagged us a hotel way above our class level with her travel points. We threw our stuff in our room and decided to take a cab to the finest establishment downtown Atlanta offered - Chili's. And it was amazing. Micah always makes fun of me because I get obsessed with restaurants and then ruthlessly break up with them. Chili's and I had a rocky past, but Sunday night we reconciled over an Oldtimer burger and chili queso. At the dinner table, Caitlin and I bugged Teressa to tell us what she loves about her fiance Stephen, and then we talked about how thankful we are for our jobs and our lives. And for a moment I felt like life stopped and we really enjoyed each other. 


Then it started to snow. 


Just a little at first, and then in flakes so big they looked like those snowflakes you cut out of doilies in elementary school. In true Texan fashion, we marveled at it, took pictures in it, and then giggled like little girls as we ran to the Publix grocery store across the street to get provisions. 

You know we're excited when the thumb up comes out

We got in Publix and wandered around buying only the necessities: things like Nilla wafers and Fanta. It wasn't until we talked to our cab driver, Dewayne, who was stuck in the snow-induced traffic that we started to question our lollygagging. We sat on a bench in between the two automatic sliding doors and waited. Waited until every customer was gone. Waited until the lights went out. Waited. Minutes turned into hours as we called other cab companies with no luck. It looked like Dewayne was our last hope. (Actually, an 80 year old woman did offer us a ride, but she had minimum 6 people already in her SUV and she was....well....80.)


My now BFF, Dwayne, who I had called at least 27 times in the last hour assured me he was coming, but we still literally screamed and jumped for joy when his minivan cab pulled up. It took him 2 hours to drive 6 miles to get us. 


He then drove us another 2 hours/6 miles to our hotel in a snow storm so bad we saw hundreds of abandoned cars and an 18-wheeler slide off the road. Not only that, but he was patient, kind, and laughed when Teressa asked if he had snow chains for his tires. 


We swore Dwayne was an angel. 


After Jesus was led into the wilderness for 40 days, the Bible says that angels came and "attended to him". (you can read the whole story here) 


Also Hebrews 13:2 says: "Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it." 


That just blows my mind. That angels are real. And not just real but involved. I don't know alot about angels, but I'm pretty sure they don't look like this. And whether Dwayne was an angel or not, he ministered to us in the best way anyone could have possibly ministered to us in that moment: he got us home. Or at least to the Westin. 


Goodnight from snowy Atlanta.

flying home with bride-to-be, Teressa...finally