Jerri Phillips

When my dad was in the hospital the last time, I knew it was a matter of days. The year had been hard, in and out of hospitals, procedures, ICU, long drives, short nights, an ocean of tears. Now, the battle was coming to an end, and despite the effort to prepare emotionally and mentally, one never knows what to do when the time finally arrives.

My friend Diana did one of the most unorthodox--and so desperately needed--things I can imagine. She took me out for a day, not a day of processing or preparing for the inevitable, but a day of coffee, chocolate, lunch, a glass of wine, shopping, and laughter. Oh!, the laughter! We reminisced, not about my dad, but about college, boy friends--especially the one we shared :-) --friends...did I mention the laughter?

I went home after my day with Di and slept...hard...peacefully...comforted.

A week later Diana stood with me as they wheeled my dad's casket from the church to the hearse. She squeezed my hand, hugged my neck, and let me go. It was all she could do. Some paths can only be walked alone...but what you have when you step onto them can determine how well you walk through them. Di had given me all she could, and it was all my heart needed.

Again I am on a path that really can only be walked alone. Grief, hope, and healing are witnessed from the outside but can only be lived within. While others can hug my neck and hold my hand, ultimately, they have to let go and let me walk through stumbling at times, head held high at others, and anywhere in between at any given moment.

But their hearts are with me...and this is the comfort.

It is rarely what is said. In fact, it is more often what isn't. It is more what they do and the tender grace with which they do it.

It is the acceptance of the path, the willingness to witness it, the pain and pleasure of watching me stumble and stand up again I see in their eyes.

It is their willingness to laugh with me at the most seemingly inappropriate places knowing the laughter hedges the pain that would drown me.

It is their quiet grace as they watch me bravely stagger from a joyous occasion because the grief is too heavy and too deep to hide behind a smile.

It is their knowing when a detour is necessary to give strength and not just diversion.

It is the discipline to stand back when they want to rush in with a hug or advice, and it is the deep breath they take and the silenced tongue when I walk in a way they would not and the tender way they pick gravel from my knees without making me feel ashamed or like less when their way was right and mine was wrong.

It is not yelling back when I am yelling at them...and when it isn't at them all but I'm still yelling.

It is the simple texts, "I love you. I believe in you. I am still expecting great things for you." The cards in the mail with elephant seal hugs, butterflies in the becoming, and sunshine on my face.

Sometimes it is the phone calls, and sometimes it is knowing not to call right now.

It's more than being willing to listen. It's being willing to sit in the silence...when tears burn hot...breath comes shaky...and all there is to do is hand over another kleenex.

It is the heart that holds on while letting go, stands fast while stepping away, and answers calls spoken and unspoken. This is the comfort that I take with me on this path...the comfort that while I am walking alone...I'm really not...I'm taking loving hearts with me.

For all of you lovely people that I have no words for...

Lori Freeland is a wonderful writer with a gift for putting God's healing power into words. This week she shares how God took her broken relationship with her dad and healed not only their relationship, but their broken hearts. It is powerful and beautiful.

I encourage you to stop by, read the two-part piece, and take hope for yourself or pass it on to someone you know who is praying for their own miracle.

Father's Day, Part 1

Father's Day, Part 2

I turned off the phone, curtailed the emails, and even cancelled coffee dates. The TV sat silent. Even the radio lost its glow. I sat in the quiet...listening.

The Lord was doing something. His healing touch reached deep into my heart into areas I truly thought were healed already. Gently, He opened wounds that left me breathless with pain. Mercy does not hide from pain when pain is necessary for revealing the need for healing.

In the quiet hours, we sat together, and He spoke to my spirit and mind, adjusting thoughts, addressing fears, exposing lies. He didn't try to fix the tears with cliches, nor did He try to make me above them because He was uncomfortable with the truth of them. Instead, He held on to me in unexpected ways...the perfect song at the perfect time, blogs that wrote exactly what I was feeling, human touch that did not let go but whispered, "It's okay."

We became intimate in a new way, a deeper way.

I wasn't okay, but that was okay. He didn't expect me to be. In that situation at that moment, I was exactly what I should be--hurt and confused. And instead of trying to pretend I was okay and life was rosy, I was doing exactly what I needed to be doing...

...Seeking Him.

Crying on Him.

Crying out to Him.

Being the broken, desperate me with deep needs that cliches and human advice can't fill.

Being the me He always knows I am...

...The me He adores.

...The me He longs to hold.

...The me He is always seeking.

In the quiet, He found me, and I found Him.

And He is exactly what I need.

I am not one to weight in on the Hollywood babble business. In fact, I only recall one time when I had anything to say about specific celebrity character. You can wander through my archives and see that I could empathize all too well with Michael Vick and his need for salvation, redemption, and restoration. No, I've never fought dogs, but I have sinned, and I am as much in need of God's mercy and the Holy Spirit's heart changing within me as he is.

Now, I again empathize with a celebrity that has proven too human for most folks' tastes.

Today I was on Facebook, and someone made a off-hand comment about Tiger needing to talk to a variety of other "fallen" sports figures so people who know how to spin things can deal with the media, his sponsors, and so on.

Let me put this in clear perspective for you. A Christian is saying Tiger Woods needs to find folks who can make his lie look better and get him out of hot water with folks. If that weren't enough, the focus is all about the folks that don't matter in the first place. The focus has nothing to do with his family, specifically his wife. Why not? Isn't she the one that he needs to reach at this point?

I wonder: is it that this person, and others like her, are so worldly that the world's way of thinking pervades their thoughts, or are they so hopeless that God does not pervade their thoughts?

This is the way I see it. Tiger and his family don't need spin doctors. They don't need caustic remarks or shallow attempts at humor at their expense.

Tiger Woods and his lovely wife need to know Jesus and His restorative and redeeming power. They need to be inundated with letters from people who have survived adultery, been healed from its desires and effects, and walk in God's restoration of their covenant.

Either God is sovereign--even over adultery--or He's not.

Do Tiger and Elin know that? Do people in the church? If we do, why aren't we spending our time praying for them instead of trashing them? If we don't, how can we hope they ever will?

And in case you are wondering, I know God is sovereign. It is more than a belief. It is absolute assurance to the core of my being. If you need someone to pray with you or stand with you, please contact me via my profile email. God's heart is always for healing, redemption, salvation, and restoration. Always.

If I could give you all a gift today, I would give you Christ, not as you probably know Him, but as the passionate pursuer of you, His Beloved.

I would give you Christ the Healer who desires to heal your body, mind, and spirit, who isn't afraid of your hurts or the anger and hopelessness that may go with them.

I would give you a Counselor who can help you move beyond all boundaries and prisons, preconceived ideas, small-minded lies spoken by small-minded and small-faithed people, and fear so you can live in the wildness of who He is, into the wildness of who you were created to be in Him.

I would give you the Savior who can take everything you've ever done and rip its weight from you and let you fly in Him.

I would give you the Friend who is too good to be true, the one that never leaves, the one that always understands, the one who is never afraid of being real, and who only speaks the Truth--loving, uplifting, life-giving. The one who never has alterior motives, but always leads you back where you need to go, to the real you, to the real God.

I would give you the Jesus that values you more than you value yourself, the one that knows how special you really are, the one who embraces your strengths...and weaknesses, and sees unfathomable potential in you.

I would give you the Jesus that right now is calling your name with arms open wide, hodling out all of these gifts and more, and I would give you the courage to believe everything He promises you.

In fact, I offer Him to you now.

If you have never accepted Jesus as your Savior or if there is some other aspect of Him I have described that you do not know, His gifts are only a prayer away. He is no respecter of persons, and He never turns away someone who seeks Him. All you need do is ask.

Salvation is not complicated. To receive Jesus as your Savior, you need to confess that you are a sinner, that you believe He died to save you from those sins, and that you want Him to forgive you for them. Ask Him to be all He wants to be in your life. He wants to be all I've listed and more.

If you are saved but don't know Jesus as a Counselor, Healer, Lover, Friend, or a myriad of other facets of His identity, ask Him to reveal Himself to you as such. Ask Him to open your eyes to see Him that way. If you are like me, you may need to ask Him to free you from beliefs the prevent you from seeing Him in all His fullness. He will. He is excited to share Himself with you. I have found we underestimate His passion for us far more than we overstate it.

And maybe you need the gift of seeing yourself as He sees you. If so, that is available for the asking, too. Again, you may need to ask for the courage to believe what He says and to embrace it so you can live in the Truth of you. He will give you that gift as well.

If you have questions or have accepted Jesus as your Savior and want more information, please contact me via my profile. You'll find my email there, or post a comment here. Nothing shows up without my approval, so if you want to comment with your contact information but not have it public, just let me know.

Merry Christmas, dear ones! May you find the greatest gifts of all in the only One who can give you everything you need!

Last week I told you about the amazing friends the Lord gave me and how they were right with me during this very hard season. In the past, if I had read such a story, I would have been sad and envious of someone who had such good friends, who had relationships where they could be real and not have to perform. It occurred to me, that some of you reading this might feel the same way, so I want to share with you about the three friends who have walked so closely with me the last few months.

Before I tell you about the friends I have now, let me tell you about the friends I haven’t had. Honestly, until a few years ago, I could not have identify a “good friend” for you, little less a “best friend”. There were people I did things with, people I loved and still do, people who loved me and my family. However, there was a lack of realness there. I won’t say it was their fault.

Believe it or not, I’ve never been good at being transparent. When I was growing up, I learned acceptance came from performing well. I learned to perform very well. Instead of being the road to acceptance, it became a prison. One never performs perfectly, so one is never perfectly acceptable. Being analytical in nature, I knew well what not performing meant. No one had to tell me. I simply knew. Perform well, you are acceptable, but what about days when I didn’t?

Any actor or actress knows what you do. You keep the audience at a distance and cover the imperfections with smoke and mirrors. I was very good at what I did.

Except, I wasn’t. I was good at performing but horrid at being accepted. The very thing I performed to receive eluded me. Instead of finding a place to be myself, I just kept finding more places to perform.

Friendships were based on things others liked to do, not true common interests. In fact, I had no interests I could call my own. I just sort of followed everyone else and did what they wanted. I didn’t have wild friends. Nothing they did was immoral, so it didn’t hurt anything.

And yet, it did.

When my dad died six years ago, reality slammed me in ways I don’t think I can articulate. The harshest reality of all was that I had no one I could talk to about it. I had created such a lovely façade of a life that I had no one to take behind the scenes. There was no one to talk to when I took off the mask because no one even realized I wore a mask. I was stuck in solitary confinement of my own making.

One thing I have found, though, when I am totally alone, I’m really not. In my solitary confinement cell sat Jesus.

In Isaiah 61, we are told Jesus came to set the captives free. I was a captive, and all I knew to do was pray for Jesus to set me free. I confessed what I knew held me captive—arrogance, pride, low self-esteem, fear, low self-value, rejection, lying (about who I was and having it together), and other things. I asked forgiveness, and I asked that He would do for me what the angel did for Peter in Acts 12.

In Acts 12, Peter is in prison, and an angel wakes him up. The angel says to get dressed and follow him, so Peter does. Peter assumes this is a dream until he is standing on the street, and the angel disappears. Then Peter runs to his friends, tells them the story, and escapes to freedom. I needed that kind of jailbreak.

It wasn’t enough to get out of prison. I needed to know how to walk and live outside the cell. Which way was I supposed to go mentally and emotionally so I didn’t end up in the same prison again? What was I supposed to do to remain free? What did freedom look like anyway?

I had no idea. But Jesus did, and in the next few posts, I’ll share how He set me free because He wants to do it for you, too.

Copyright Jerri Phillips 2009

This is the 100th post on my Jerri Phillips blog. How wonderfully appropriate that it would deal with healing and the fall of the enemy!!!

As some of you may remember, back in February, I had symptoms indicative of a heart attack and went through a battery of tests. Thankfully, there was no heart attack. However, we were shocked when I was diagnosed with an enlarged heart. The Lord poured peace out on us, though, and we trusted Him to handle it. I watched my blood pressure, and really, there was nothing more I could do. It was up to the Lord.

A week ago Friday, I had my repeat echocardiogram to see if there were any change. Friday I went in for the results.

In short, he said it had not changed. The echo showed my left ventricle wall was thickened. The doctor asked me about my blood pressure, which is fabulous. He asked why it was elevated at his office, and I gave my explanation (it was not done with the correct protocol, but if he wanted to use the correct protocol, it would be fine). He agreed my explanation would truly explain it. Then we got into serious discussion about why the wall was thick, and we discussed my workout routine. Rob and I play tennis 3 times a week, and I walk 20-25 minutes every morning (yes, EVERY morning), and I do toning exercises every (yes, every) day. He said that could explain the thickness.

Then I brought up my bigger concern. When the nurse called in February, she said the wall was “significantly thickened”, but when the nurse called Tuesday, she said it was “slightly thickened”. There seems to be a large difference between “significant” and “slight” in my mind, so I was disappointed that there was no change. He decided to pull up the results so I could see the numbers, and he could explain better.

For those who like numbers:
Outside wall went from 1.3 to 1.1.
Septum wall sent from 1.2 to 1.0
(stuff I don't remember) 4.3 to 4.8

Those looked good to me, but then, there was a huge jump in the next number. He was quiet a moment and then said, “Uh, I have to change what I said. Your heart is a lot better. The thickness measurements have dropped, and the volume your heart is pumping has increased. Your heart is doing great. And after comparing these, I would say had I known your exercise routine and then looked at your latest results, I would say they were normal. Your heart is what it should be for your exercise load.”

I just said, “Thank the Lord.”

I asked when I needed to drop back in or have another echo, and he said, “For what? There’s nothing to check. You’re fine.”

Isn’t God absolutely amazing???!!!!!!!

So as you celebrate the season of Christmas and God’s gift of Jesus, celebrate with us this gift of healing that the Lord has given, too.

Good morning!

I am making a quick post to let y'all know I will be mostly offline for a week or two due to a shoulder injury. Typing is extremely painful, and it is prohibiting my healing, so I need to spend as little time online as possible.

Feel free to leave comments or email me. Rob is going to help me check messages. Just know responses will be extremely short or even delayed until I can reply without pain.

As always, prayers for healing are desired!

Blessings and health to you and yours!

This election has made me realize more than ever the importance of Christians actively obeying the Lord to bring about godly results in our nation.

One of the most obvious and too often forgotten acts of obedience is prayer. How much difference can prayer make? All the difference.

Zechariah 4:6 says, "'Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,' says the LORD Almighty. " The Lord is telling a king that the battle is not determined by physical presence or ability but rather by the move of God.

2 Chronicles 7:14 says, "If my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land."

Where is the healing to be found? Not in a political platform. Not in a government program. Not in a court judment. But in the humbling of hearts before God and the outcry of need for His lordship.

"I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth. For there is one God and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all men—the testimony given in its proper time. I want men everywhere to lift up holy hands in prayer, without anger or disputing." --1 Timothy 2:1-6, 8

Notice Paul doesn't say to pray for just the godly leaders but all those in authority, every level, evey leader. Notice also that Paul never says, "It pleases God when these leaders make the right laws or form the right programs." No, Paul says God "wants all men to be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth." It is easy to pray for specific issues, but the real issue is the lordship of these leaders. If they are walking with the Lord and receiving revelation from and about Him, the symptomatic issues won't be issues.

For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you and asking God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all spiritual wisdom and understanding. -- Colossians 1:9

To help focus prayer for the United States and her leaders, I have created a new blog entitled simply Pray for America. I hope you come by often. If you want us to pray for the leaders in your area, send me an email via my profile.

We stand at an amazing point in American history. We have the opportunity to not only heal our heritage but to also reclaim our godly inheritance that previous generations either did not understand or simply did not value. We have the power to make a difference in our country.

We have the power of prayer.

Let us use that power with boldness and passion, ever seeking the Lord in praise and humility for His goodness.

This is not a test. I'm just wondering where I missed it, so I'm asking for someone to show me.

Where in the Bible does God say healing and death are the same thing? Where does it say, "And Jesus healed them by letting them die?"

I keep hearing folks say of people who died of different things, "God healed them, just not the way you wanted." No. The body dies on its own. It is the natural process of the human body to die. Healing indicates a different course of action--that the sickness has been removed and health restored. Otherwise, how do we know when Jesus healed those crowds of people it wasn't a mass killing/healing experience?

I'm not trying to split hairs. I'm not trying to judge. I haven't found where dying and healing go together, but I don't have the Bible memorized, so someone help me out. Where did I miss God's promise of healing by letting folks die?

Now, what convinced me that Jesus wants to heal? The words "all" and "every", coupled with the fact that I never see Him turn anyone down. Show me one place in the Bible where someone asks for healing, puts their faith in Jesus, and then Jesus says, "No."

I can't find it.

In fact, we are told Jesus tried to do miracles but couldn't because people refused to believe in Him (Mark 6:5).

Sounds to me like Jesus is into healing.

...that I am God.--Psalm 46:10

The whole verse says this:

"Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth."

Being still is not my forte. In fact, it isn't on my list of "sort of good at". However, God is clear. Be still and know that I am God...and watch what I do.

I will be exalted...

Exalted. Placed above.

When we were doing the house remodel, I felt like I was scrounging for time with God. I was trying to be still, but there was always some decision, some work, some demand. When the remodel frenzy was over (the outside should be painted this week), I prayed a simple prayer: "Lord, help me get still again and hear you. Help me to find focus again. Help me see the bigger picture of Your Kingdom and not the small picture of paint chips, shelf trim, and new dishes."

I prayed that prayer because I realized I had become addicted to the adrenaline rush of "have to". You know what I mean. It's the list as long as your leg reminding you of all the things that have to be done and the push to get them all done TODAY. Either that, or my handy dandy pendulum swung the other direction where I wanted to do nothing because there was so much to do that I couldn't do it all, so I did nothing.

Both are bad. Both get my focus off God and on stuff. Mostly, it gets my focus on me and my abilities. As I said, bad.

For over three weeks now, I have had bronchitis. The first two weeks were unreal. I don't think I've ever been that sick. I don't recall ever feeling like I would pass out from lack of oxygen. I truly felt like I was suffocating, and, yes, that was with the lovely steroid help I was getting. For the last week and a half, my airways have been open, but I am still draining and coughing. Talking is still a highly questionable activity, and I'm more thankful than ever for voicemail. I won't tell you I've enjoyed any of this. Quite the contrary. Had you been here one day last week, you would have heard me cursing this illness, this coughing, the aching muscles, and the whole viral thing to hell along with every demon attached to it and commanding it to stay there, never to visit upon anyone on this earth ever again. I wouldn't wish this on anyone, and God and I have discussed my thoughts on the whole issue.

However, I have to say that the Lord has not allowed the enemy to take my treasure. On the contrary, the Lord has been reminding me just what my treasure is, and I don't think I would have listened--or had the time to ponder it--unless I was too exhausted to make a body indention on the couch.

Last week, Jan Brand, a precious lady from my writing group, and I had a lovely exchange of emails. If you ever get the chance, sit with Jan awhile. Read her writing if you can, but absolutely, sit with her awhile. There is much to glean from her, and even if there isn't a large verbal exchange, you'll get stuff. Hold on to it. Let it simmer, as we say in the South. Check it periodically and see what God has cooked up through what you've learned from her.

She and I talked about a variety of things: writing, family, ministry, Truth seeking. Good stuff. I told her my philosophy on writing, speaking, and photography. I see the bigger picture. Then, she suggested that because I did, maybe I was seeing big enough.

I smiled.

The truth is I had seen that big, but it was so big. Bigger than I could believe for. At least, it was until Jan and I talked. Now, I realize I was right, and I have the faith to follow that path.

Now, you are probably thinking I'm going to leave you hanging with my metaphorical cryptic revelations, like I used to do. I'm not. I'll at least share part of it.

As many of you know, for years the Lord has put women on my heart. I am grieved at the loss of identity and value of women, not among the men, although that is frustrating. What breaks my heart is how very little value women have for themselves and other women. The enemy has done a good job of stealing identities, destinies, and hope. The Lord has given me strategies for restoring that. I believe God is outraged by the imprisonment of His daughters, and He is actively working to set them free.

Imprisonment takes many forms, and I expect over time He'll discuss them all here. For now, know He has not forgotten, and He has not abandoned. On the contrary, He is fighting ardently for every daughter of His that feels the pain of shackles or feels the cold oppression of prison walls. He won't leave you there if don't want to stay. He has given many people strategies, and they are working.

As for me, I have two main strategies I'm considering at this time.

First is a focused prayer group in which women come together and pray for their marriages and children. Satan likes to tell us we are failures as wives and moms, and since the core of our identity is that of nurturer and lover, we are easily immobilized or are easily distracted by means of escape to avoid the areas that hurt us. God doesn't want us to fail, and He doesn't want us to hurt. Instead, He wants to give us strategies to win and be victorious. He wants to kill the family curses and bring blessings on our families. I believe it is His plan to create units of warriors that fight together and keep each other focused on Truth. The question is date and frequency. I'm praying.

Second, I am presently working with several retreat centers to schedule a "semi-silent" retreat. They would last Friday through Sunday. We would come together for meals to talk, process, and pray. Otherwise, the women would be alone with their Bibles and journals and God. The idea being we all need to be still and hear God. We need to be still long enough to get beyond our prayer list and the noise of life to the point where we listen and hear His voice. It isn't just so we get direction and answers to our questions. It is to hear His heart for us and about us. The whole purpose is to be still and hear His heart.

One person asked me about worship. I have no intention of providing any form of worship music. In fact, iPods, CDs, and such are banned. Here's why. I think we should learn to worship the Lord out of our own hearts, with our own passion, in our own creatively intimate way. Sing a song in your head. Make one up, OR better yet, stop and listen to the Lord sing over you.

For too many women hoping God values them, loves them so much that He would serenade them is beyond any idea of possibility.

I guess my heart for these retreats is so simple. I want the women who go on them to have head on collision with God in all His amazing love and passion for them. I want them to be swept off their feet and enraptured by the One who is enraptured by them.

And so, I am working on two retreats a year, one in the fall and one in the spring. The retreat centers have not had anyone with this vision before, but when I shared it with them, they became very quiet, and then I heard, "Wow, that sounds amazing."

I think so. I should have the preliminary information organized by the end of the week, and I will send out the information to ladies then. If the Lord brings it to mind, pray for me, the retreat centers, and the ladies who will come.

Those are the smaller pieces of strategy the Lord has given me. As for the bigger picture, I simply want to minister to women and see them healed and equipped. Thankfully, Rob is in agreement, and we'll see what the Lord does with that desire. Just so you know, I expect it to be big.

So I've decided I'm going to live. I'm still having insane coughing fits, but I did have enough energy to do the laundry--all eight loads. Yes, EIGHT loads. You may be in awe if you would like, but before you go there, the sink again is full of dishes, and Fred Puppies--we don't have dust bunnies. We have large wads of Fred hair. If you wait more than three days to sweep, you get enough hair to make a small puppy. When we still had carpet, we used to refer to dumping the puppy out of the vacuum. Sometimes, there was a whole litter. I digress. There are still lots of free Fred Puppies to be had, and the dishes are becoming hammer and chisel projects as I type. I guess I could find the energy to go do them, but why blow all the family gratitude in one day?

In my absence things have stacked up. I have received an award from Wendy and another from Jan, and I will post those soon. They always leave me tender hearted and a bit philosophical, and my mind simply is not capable of that right now.

I decided I would take a moment to answer a few questions. Okay, it is the same question repeated multiple times that sort of culminated with a call this afternoon that started like this, "Okay, I know you've been sick, but enough already. What did you erase from you blog?"

Only tried and true friends have the guts to call you, talk to you like that, and actually expect you not to hang up. And honestly, I love those friends. They are the ones who don't just notice you're missing from the "big event" because this morning you woke up with a zit on your nose. They come hunting for you, knowing to look in the back of the closet behind the stuffed animals you aren't ready to give up despite being waaayyyy past toy age, drag you out, carefully putting the pile of animals back with your favorites on top because they know which ones your favorites are, and sit you in front of the mirror so they can apply the concealer to hide the offensive zit.

I am blessed with a few of those friends, and I love that they love me enough to talk to me like that. Course, they know if I pull a blog entry, I'm hiding, and they come hunting.

So what was this mysterious blog entry?

It was cryptic stuff about my struggle as a writer, which really when we get down to brass tacks is about my struggle with me. A lot of writers I know have them. I admire the ones who are up front, toss it all out for everyone to see, and can attack it with humor and honesty. It's like Show and Tell with a strobe light, disco music, and a dance floor. Anybody who understands the groove, jump in, and dance like you own it.

Me? I'm more like the person up on the stage with something on a table covered in a black sheet, and I give lots of generalized information. Sort of like a bad Christmas present tease. "It's sort of like this, but not exactly, and it is similar to that, but it's different." And when I'm done, the lights go down and folks are left thinking it's either shards of glass or Einstein's brain (cause both are really sharp...see the sort of but not exactly, similar but different? Anyway...)

And while everyone's partying with Show and Tell Disco Style, in my place, folks suddenly have the urge to sing "Oh, Danny Boy" and wear black, but!, it could be ZZ Top, so no one is sure how to react. (ZZ Top...sang "Sharp Dressed Man"...it's an 80s thing...sticking with the unsure sharp thing... Anyway...)

The post I removed on May 30th, left me feeling glum. It didn't start that way, but somewhere along the way, it found a bobsled on a rail, and it was all downhill from there. So, I pulled it.

Now, my beloved friends who came and hunted me down in my closet are glaring at me and pointing to the black sheet on the table because they still don't know if I've dropped a wine bottle, invested too much in a quick education, or like bearded men with guitars.

She reaches for the sheet...picks up a corner....looks around deviously...and pulls! TADAH!!!! (Oooo!!!! She even spelled 'tadah' right!!!! I checked.)

Yes, what you see is a table laiden with pens, pencils, crayons, markers, notebook paper, bound journals, and super brights. What is all that about?

A book.

I have started writing a book.

I know. Some of you are dumbfounded. Some are thinking, "It's about stinking time." If you are in the first group, I'm with you. If you are in the second group, I'm with you.

Ever since I can remember, I have loved two things: the outdoors and writing. As far back as I can recall, I wanted to do one thing: tell people about God. You can read more about that on my post Things I Learned From My First Bible.

It seems logical that I would use my love for writing (which I believe is of reasonable talent) to share God. I'm not quite sure where the nature part falls into it, but we will get back to that later. Then again, I think it is probably all intertwined, so let's throw an oak tree and picture of a lake on the table, too, and grab a glass of whatever we find right for these sorts of Show and Tells, kick back, and sort through the table scene.

I quit writing about 16 1/2 years ago. Just...quit. No, I won't explain. About 11 years ago I started writing Jerri's Munchies. Robert came along, and I didn't have time to write. Then he got older, and I had time to write again.

During this spans of time, both writing and not writing, I received several prophecies about the books I'd write. I always wanted to write a book. At one point I considered taking various Jerri's Munchies and putting them into a collection. A few friends said they would love to have them bound and on their tables or so they could give them as gifts. One friend said I was greedy for wanting to make money off what God gave me for free. No collection came about. I don't know that it was because of that one comment. It only gave me an excuse to hide and avoid the word "insecurity".

When my dad died five years ago, life got ugly. I'm not really proud of who I was in that first year. However, I know it was necessary. I needed to see facades crumble so the Lord could build solid Truth. During that time, the Lord had me write long letters to friends and journal "everything". I would sit and write thinking, "God, please promise me no one will ever read this journal when I'm dead." One night He replied, "No, they'll read it from your book when you are alive." Cough! Cough! Gag! Choke!! WHAT???!!!!

I assumed this book would be much like any other Christian living book that told what I had learned, what scripture it was based on, and so forth. Instead, God said, "Let's write a fiction book."

A FICTION BOOK???!!!! I have not written fiction in 16 1/2 years. I haven't the foggiest clue how to do this.

Not a problem. Writers' groups do. So off I went to join a writers' group. As I've shared, the feedback has really been positive. The part that has truly left me humbled are the reactions to the main character. I thought folks might find her "needy". Instead, they found her familiar. One person commented, "I wish I had read this book when I was younger. In three chapters, it has already affected me in positive ways." Another person said, "I wish you had the book done today. There are so many who will read this and say, 'That's me,' and they will be healed by what God puts in this book."

The Lord spoke the same words to me: many will be healed through your honesty in this book.

So, I sit here with all you staring at the table before us, looking for the truth, wondering how colorful to make it, what details to wrap it in, praying desperately that I have the courage to be that honest.

With the sheet pulled off the table, there is nowhere to hide. My insecurities, doubts, and nearly overwhelming desire to hide in the closet isn't about others. It has nothign to do with others' negative comments.

I know that I know I am a writer. I know I am to write this book. I know it will have an impact. I know those things because God has said those things.

Right now, I find myself bogged down in me. The stuff lying on the table, my thoughts about it. My fear of embracing it and anger at myself for being fearful.

To be more candid, the book has two possible paths. One is safe, not much to find offensive or too close to home. The other is more honest, sometimes more honest than I want to be, maybe more honest than others want to be. And even as I try to use that as an excuse, I know the bigger truth. Hiding in the back of my closet, I want to be found. I wonder about those others hiding in the back of their closets, terrified to come out, praying to be found. I have been given the gift of talking them out of their hiding places. When I'm not busy hiding myself, I realize what an honor that is.

See, those women aren't just hiding a zit. They are afraid for people to see their hearts, and God has not armed me with a mere concealer to hide the imperfections. He has given me the Truth of healing so they can see their perfection in Him.

So there you go. See how simple it looks. And I won't lie. The idea of having a published book is thrilling. Knowing how much of me will be on those pages, and how much of it won't be the flattering part of me, is also pretty scary. Maybe some of y'all understand. Maybe some you don't. If you are in the first group, I'm with you. If you are in the second group, I'm with you, too.

And now that I've ditched my sheet and you've all looked at my table, I'm sort of responsible for it all, and I really only have one choice now.

I only ask two things:

When it's done and you read it, try to think good of me for having the courage to tell it, and pray that those who get found hiding in their closets have the courage to come out.

And when others give me that look, you know the one that says I'm not at all what they thought I was and they are SO disappointed, I might need you close. We can sit around the table, color with the crayons, and wonder what to do with that tree.

OOOOHHHH!!!! We could build a treehouse, put up a strobe light, put some ZZ Top in a boom box, and dance like we own it.

But then, God might have been tell about that in the next book...

For the last six weeks or so I've been under a cloud. Actually, it's been more than a cloud. It's been a pretty steady downpour of criticism and rejection from lots of ample sized clouds that seem to never move off my radar.

I shared some of the frustrations of my homeschool loop, but that isn't all. I've struggled with some prolific criticism of my writing from a one particular person, and there have been a few potshots that have left me with some flesh wounds. :-)

I have chosen not to say anything because really, there is nothing to say. There is nothing anyone could say to make me feel better. It isn't about those people, and I know that. In a recent post to said homeschool group, I stated that others only affect us where we have a wound or something in need of healing.

I've written about healing before, and I believe it is God's desire to heal all sickness, whether that be physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual. If that is true, then I have to wonder why healing doesn't happen. One answer I have found to be true is that we sometimes do not receive the healing offered us.

I have not received the healing offered me, and thus, I have spent weeks sick at heart.

One of my recent posts asked the difference between judging and opinions and whose opinion gets to be right? A lot of people seem to have the opinion that I talk just to hear my head rattle. They feel I have nothing of importance to say, and they believe I simply talk so I can have the last word. Some feel I am too verbose, too descriptive, and too flowery in my writing. Simply put, those folks do not think too highly of me, and they don't seem to think I have much-if anything-to contribute. That is their opinion.

Their opinions hurt.

There. I said it. I don't like criticism. I don't like conflict. I don't like being told I'm unimportant and have no value. I don't like hearing people tell me that my gifts aren't treasured or worthy of value.

However, those people are entitled to their opinions, and their opinions of me aren't very high.

On the other hand, I know so many of you, not just on this blog but through personal emails and friendships, and you have your opinions, too. You've shared them through birthday cards, sympathy cards, emails, your own blog entries, and phone calls. Your opinion is that my writing makes sense, shares Truth, and impacts people. Your opinion is my gifts are treasures with great value to make a difference. You have extremely high opinions of me.

So if their low opinions hurt so much, why don't your high opinions heal so much?

Because sometimes I don't have the sense to embrace the healing held out to me. Sometimes I don't have the sense to recognize the most valuable opinions come from the people who are most valuable to me--the ones who hold my heart tenderly and speak Truth with kindness in their eyes even when I don't want to hear it, the ones that laugh with me, cry with me, listen to stories about my children and ooh and aah at the right times. The valuable people are the ones I can be real with, and they find it endearing.

So, my beloved ones, I am so sorry I did not receive the healing you've held out so faithfully. I have thankfully come to my senses. Granted, it's still raining, and there will always be a cloud around, but I think back to splashing through the puddles rather than sitting in them.

Thank you for being the opinionated bunch you are. I think you are wonderful. Granted, it's only my opinion, but I'm convinced I'm right.

This morning I’ve considered my post on opinion and judgment, and while I stand by it, I made a statement that I think needs clarification.

I said when others’ opinions turn to personal offense on my part, it is often because I have a hurt that needs a touch by the Lord. I do not think that hurt has to be some deep wound from childhood or any other time in life. Sometimes the hurt is simply from the day. It could have been that my husband hurt my feelings or my children decided they did not need to be respectful and honoring. It could be something as inane as a cashier’s attitude at the store that spilled over onto me.

My response to others typically is far more about the other people and situations or events in my life than it is the actual person. I’ll explain what I mean.

Email has no tone. They are simple words. There is no intonation, no body language. How I translate emails and electronic posts is based on my personal mental and emotional filters. I have been at a point where I took everything as rejection and criticism. Thankfully, I’m not there anymore. However, I still go through time spans in which I do, and it really has nothing to do with the post or email. I know this because I have taken some folks jokes (with smiles attached) and turned them into barbs that were most assuredly aimed at me. In my lucid moments, I know those people’s hearts. I know they are not vindictive, and I know their comments weren’t aimed at any person in particular. However, my emotional and mental state is not always lucid, and it isn’t about the person or even their comment. It really has to do with what I am dealing with personally. If I’ve had a rough day with my writing critique group, I’m more likely to take things as rejection. If I’ve had a day where folks let me in the lane of traffic I needed or people at the store were nice, I’m more likely to have grace.

On bad days, I do need a healing touch from the Lord. I need to be alone with Him for Him to speak truth and love or correction so I can repent and make peace. I need to just be still, resettle, and get perspective. I also need to leave all emails and posts that evoke negative reaction until later. I have NEVER regretted not responding with anger or sarcasm.

On the flip side of this is the reality that sometimes folks react to my emails or posts with claws out and teeth bared, and it isn’t about me. Sometimes they’ve had a bad day. Sometimes their husbands hurt their feelings or their children didn’t honor them. Sometimes they have bad cashiers, too. While my first reaction may be (and too often is) to jump back at them, I have found if I take time to pray about it, the Lord will soften my heart and remind me to see their heart, not their actions. Maybe I don’t have any prophetic insight into their lives, but I have grace to respond with a heart of reconciliation and restoration. I have seen many people do this very thing, and when they do, they are the touch from God that offers healing. And that is a tone that translates well no matter what the day has been like.

Blessings!!!

I am part of a homeschool email loop, and I find it pathetic at how often folks who share their opinions are accused of judging. It is prevalent in society, I know, but really, do we truly not have the right to dislike something without being called judgmental?

Anyway, I wrote a post for the group. I figure it'll end up with a bunch of holes from the fire it draws for the simple reason my saying I pray for Hilary Clinton got me called an "ungodly Communist". If praying for my enemy makes me a Communist, I don't know what suggesting grace makes me.

At any rate, I am posting it here. I am not longer naive enough to think everyone will agree or that my writing will alter everyone's world and make them agree with me. However, hopefully, it will make folks think, and ultimately, it will lead them to seek God on a topic. Only good things can come when folks seek God because when they seek Him, they will find Him, and then, He can do amazing things.

Feel free to share your opinions.

My post:

Okay, so someone posts on here that she can't stand when people do not use proper grammar. Some folks agreed. Some said they didn't think it mattered. I thought it was a simple exchange of opinions. Then someone responds with a personal comment about critiquing others, which to me, implies that someone was judged.

This has happened a few times in different threads, and I find it frustrating and confusing how we go from opinion to "don't judge". Why is it that if I don't agree with someone it is judging? Why am I not entitled to my own opinion? And what makes their opinion right and mine wrong? Maybe, they are the one judging me?

The only thing I can think of is when people expect a higher level of moral, academic, or behavioral behavior than we exhibit or feel is necessary, we become defensive and deem them as judgmental because we feel they are rejecting us. I say "we" because I can react defensively when I feel others reject me as well.

However, I think when I respond that way, I am as guilty of judging as I assume the other person is. I judge that person to be proud and arrogant. I judge that person's heart to be one of rejection. Sometimes I am right, but sometimes the person is simply sharing their opinion.

Frankly, I've found that even when I am right, it usually isn't about the other person. Usually, if another person's opinion bothers me, it is about me. Typically, it means there is some hurt that needs the Lord's touch. Perhaps that is the line when opinion crosses into "judgment".

Don't misunderstand. I know there are times when judgment is a clearly stated rejection of a person or group of persons and/or their behaviors, but most of the time, it is simply folks who don't like other folks' opinions and take them as a personal offense. Most folks would agree that judging is ungodly, but is taking offense at another's opinion less so? Aren't both of the enemy? Both bring divsion. Both harden people's hearts toward other people. Both are in direct opposition to what Christ taught.

I dislike Abeka or Saxon. My dislike is intense. So, are you folks who use those judging me because I don't, or do you just have a different opinion? I tend to think you just have a different opinion. I think we could have coffee and let our children play and get along fine without either of us feeling rejected or judged. Maybe I'm too idealistic, but I think we could.

That makes me wonder why opinions, which are usually just harmless statements of thought, are twisted and called judging, and I'm wondering why it is so prevalent among Christians.

I've wondered this several times before, and this time, I decided to share my wonderings. You are obviously entitled to your opinion about them.

Well, folks, we are seeing very positive change at this point. In other words, some things are coming together, and it sure feels good because frankly, we are getting tired.

Yesterday, I painted the hallway, so it is done except for the floor and base molding.

In the living room and entry way:
--the ceiling texture was fixed
--the crown molding went up
--I caulked the crown molding. A new experience, but I'm very pleased with the result.
--the ceiling, molding, and walls were painted.
--the doors (all four) were painted.

The kitchen:
We lost the wall except for two post-sets holding the roof up.

Today
--I will pick up the wood for the built in shelves for the living room. I figure we'll get those built and painted on Saturday.
--The sunroom will get sheetrocked and taped and bedded.

Our contractor plans to be done by a week from Saturday because he has a trip scheduled and wants us done before he leaves. We want us done before he leaves. :-)

As for us, we have more texturing, painting, crown molding, caulking, and shelves to build in the sunroom and kitchen before we can put in the floor and replace the base trim. We figure that will taken another week after he is done simple because we'll have to move the furniture around. Prayerfully, we'll be done with it all in 2 1/2 weeks or less. However, besides that, I have pictures to do, Anna's birthday, pictures to process and deliver, and life in general. We have a full few weeks, but we see change, and that is encouraging. We like the results.

Before I try to get more sleep, I want to respond to some questions and other blog references.

Jan, yes, I do plan on posting pictures. However, I want to do the whole story, and I have not had time.

Wendy, I did see that I was tagged on your board. I will play. Hopefully, it'll be next week. I have to have Fiddler pictures done on Tuesday, and I am shooting senior pictures on Wednesday. As soon as those are processed, I will be able to look at my computer with the idea of fun rather than work.

Wendy, I will forward you the Beautiful Women posts if you want. I do have your email, don't I?

Also, Jan was very kind and gave me two awards while I've been out of the loop. I'll share about those when I am able to give them respectable time and mental processes.

If anyone else has tagged me or commented to me on your blogs, please let me know. I have been glancing through blogs when I can, but mostly, I'm so tired that when I get still, I doze off. Right now I am awake because I ache horribly. I don't know who invented ibuprofen, but may God bless him/her and that person's family forever.

Okay, I'm goinig to try to go back to bed now.

I look forward to posting soon and showing y'all the major remodel we are being blessed with. God is so kind and good, and He has allowed us to do this. To give you a glimpse of the none visual impact, Rob and Anna were both taking the highest level antihistamine they could due to allergies. After we pulled up the carpet and 40-year old linoleum, which stunk horribly, and the leaky fireplace had been removed, within days both were off allergy medicine. My friends, this hasn't been easy, but sometimes the road to healing is messy, hard, discouraging, tiring--and altogether worth it.

May you embrace and offer thanks for the remodeling God does in your life.

Ethan Powell is a beautiful 16 month old boy who has been battling leukemia for 14 months now. Last week, the doctors gave a glorious report. Then the enemy came back like a wave. Ethan and his family are in need of intercessors to beat back the wave and defeat the enemy at the gates.

He has developed a lung problem that has put him at high risk. The doctor has said a miraculous turnaround is needed.

I'm asking you to pray for:
1. A miraculous healing.
2. For Ben and Becky's faith to stand firm despite what they see through a window.
3. For the warriors' faith to stand no matter what they read.
4. For the leukemia to be removed from Ethan's body completely never to return by way of God's healing on this side of Heaven.
5. That no one settle for losing this baby to this evil disease but that warriors would rise up to intercede on behalf of this family.
6. If need be, for your own faith to see this child healed.

Thank you for your prayers.

I have avoided posting about my daily adventures the last two weeks because I've really wanted to focus on the issue of women realizing their value. I have chosen to relate the happenings of the last two weeks with the desire to demonstrate how much God values His children.

Thursday, February 7th--Robert goes to bed with a headache. Robert wakes us up coughing and wheezing. I spend the next four nights monitoring his breathing at night and taking proper steps to avoid respiratory distress.

Monday, February 11th--Robert is better. Anna is now sick. Thankfully, her respiratory track isn't as sensitive, but she is still miserable. Sleep continues to elude me.

Thursday, February 14th--The children are better, and we adopt a Beagle/Dachshund mix. Milly loves the children but hates our dog. Lovely.
--My stepdad goes in for tests and is rushed to the hospital with congestive heart failure.

Friday, February 15th--I am now sick. Milly is still hating Fred, and my stepdad is being scheduled for tests because they believe he might have cancer.

Saturday, February 16th--The heater quits. The sunroom roof leaks with the rain, and our printer dies. Plus, Milly still hates Fred, and Wylie is looking at heart surgery.

Sunday, February 17th--I have to call Milly's foster mom because Fred and Milly have engaged in open fighting. Fred is 60 pounds; Milly is 25. This won't work. We discuss training options, and we agree to try for a few more days, but we realize Milly may not be able to live with us.
--Someone comes to our door and asks if we are interested in selling our popup camper, which we had planned to sell so we could buy an RV. I think this is of God. Rob thinks it is bad timing, but he gets her phone number so we can call in three or four weeks.

Monday, February 18th--Wylie (stepdad) is scheduled for surgery on Tuesday and Wednesday because they feel his heart will not sustain all three stints at once. His kidneys are showing signs of distress.
--I have not slept due to the pain I am in from this illness.
--HOWEVER, Milly and Fred spend the day outside, and when the day is over, they are best friends. Thank you, Lord.

Tuesday, February 19th--I am about to walk out the door when the phone rings. They can't do surgery because Wylie's kidneys are too fragile. They have to call in a specialist.
--I spend the day in bed because I'm so sick.
--The heater person finally comes. He determines we need a new heater. It's price tage? $5800.
--The bank tells us our loans for the remodel (which will get rid of the present roof) are on hold. The loan we are applying for is not possible due to technicalities, but they are willing to let us consider other avenues.

Wednesday, February 20th--I find myself in the doctor's office because my ear is infected. During our conversation, I mention chest pains I had a few weeks ago, and my doctor shares the symptoms of a heart attack in women. Bummer. They are the same. I have an EKG, and they try to do blood work, but I am dehydrated and have to have fluids before they can find blood. I am sent home to drink water and return later.
--No news on my stepdad yet.
--Rob has bought another printer, but has not had time to set it up, so my critiques for my writing group are still sitting on my computer.
--I go back to get my blood work, which works with only 5 total pokes.
--I return home to find the "second opinion" heater man leaving. I ask what the conclusion is. The heater is working. In fact, it started working immediately after being turned on. The technician had cycled through 10 times, and the heater worked each time. "Why replace a heater that works?"
--8:00 that night my mom calls. My stepdad is having surgery the next morning. It is of greater danger to wait. I make a kazillion phone calls and try to sleep, but a reaction to my decongestant keeps me awake for most of the night.

Thursday, February 21st--I am at the hospital at 6:45 am. Wylie is not being prepped.
At 7:30 we are told Wylie has been placed on the "work in" schedule. We do not know why.
At 10:30 we find out Wylie's doctor has the flu, but he has asked his partner to do the surgery. Because we are now working with the partner's schedule and the hospital's schedule, we do not know when Wylie will go in.
At noon, they wheel Wylie back.
At 2:00 we are notified surgery is done. All three stints were placed securely. There were no complications. He will be monitored on Friday as they flush the dye from his kidneys and keep an eye on them. If everything goes according to expectations, Wylie will be home Saturday.
I get home late. My ear is throbbing, and I am exhausted.

Friday, February 22nd--I am up early and try to have quiet time, but all I can think about is my stress test. I am not afraid of heart issues. I am, however, afraid of the test. My mind is filled with memories of the last stress test, being yelled at by the doctor, and being griped at by the nurse because my legs cramped and I was unable to reach their desired heart rate. I fight anxiety attacks.
--10:00 I am at the doctor's office.
--11:00 I walk out of the doctor's office and head home to work on my book chapter so I can turn it in for critique by my group.

That gives you the list of events of the week. What it does not include are the random emails people sent asking about my stepdad, asking how I am feeling, telling me prayers are being prayed. I cannot list the emails/phone calls that simply came in the form of, "Jerri, I appreciate you." I most certainly cannot convey their impact. There were comments made by peopel who had no idea what all was going on. In fact, only three people knew my doctor has concerns about the possibility that I've had a heart attack (BTW, test results should be in by Wednesday). Yet, people I do not even mentally hold as close friends randomly emailed or dropped a note to let me know I bless them in some way. I've received beautiful verses and scriptures, words that are precisely what the Lord has put in my heart. No one could have known about those. Instead, they simply responded to the promptings of the Spirit. I don't know if they realized the Lord was speaking to them or not. I only know they obeyed, and with each word, I was given peace.

In all of the last two weeks, I will tell you honestly that I have been exhausted. I am still very tired. However, emotionally and mentally, I have not felt fear. I have not felt panic. I only had one moment that really made me a bit lop-sided, for lack of a better word. I think part of that is having walked this road with my biological dad. I think part of it was choosing to focus on God's faithfulness. I KNOW a huge part of the ease with which our family walked through this was the prayer, the words, and the actions of the people God used to encourage and support us.

In my last post, I talked about the power our words have to heal. I share with you the events of the last two weeks because I want to convey the powerful use of words in my life and the lives of my family. The words spoken to us and the words prayed over us protected us and kept our hearts safe.

For those who used your words to heal and protect us, our deepest gratitude is yours. May the spoils of our victories be poured upon you and your families, and may your faith be increased to speak even more boldly so that the power of God is released in even greater ways.

God bless you.