Spirit Sunday

So to kick-off this new thing of "Spirit Sundays", I figured I'd start at the beginning and give my testimony.

But I can't take too long, Kevin's giving me the evil eye bc the girls are in their beds and he wants to watch a movie.  127 hours.  So I have to move this bus along.

Growing up, my family regularly attended Sunday service at a large Presbyterian church.  My dad sang in the choir and for several years, Andy and I did too -- and bell choir.  (Try not to look at me different.)  We had some friends there, and for the most part it was a positive experience for me.  The few years I did youth group was fun too, until it wasn't.  Anyway, I remember my dad telling me we were "Christians" - he was fixing the skylight in our family room, was on a ladder.  I remember looking up, and telling him so many kids at school go to CCD, and church on Saturdays, not Sundays.  They get to stay later at the sleepovers, not leave for church.  He looked down at me, and said, "We're Christians, not Catholics.  There's a difference."  But I never really did understand the difference, until I was older and realized we didn't have rosary beads, pray to anyone but God or Jesus, and we didn't talk about Mary all the time.  It was fine by me to not be Catholic as I got older - I sang for a few years on Saturday afternoons with my dad and Andy for a Latin mass at a Catholic church, got paid too!  It seemed they took church very seriously, and there was a lot of standing and sitting.  Being "Christians" seemed easier, less intense, less guilt.

As a family, we said "grace" before meals often, but that was the extent of our prayer time together.  Our family endured many difficult years, and I prayed in my room, begging God to intervene somehow.  My brother did too.  When I was young, I remember being non-impressed, as God did not seem to help us.  It made me feel small and unimportant.  I didn't not believe in Him - I just didn't trust Him, or really, love Him.

In researching colleges, I spent a weekend at a Christian college in PA, right down the street - literally - from the home my dad grew up in.  It was a beautiful campus, and it appealed to my parents because it wasn't too far away and my grandma (who really, was disinterested in me and I was not close to, but still) was right there in case I needed her.  I didn't.  But after spending the weekend, I fell in love with the school - everyone was so friendly, it was small and close-knit, it had classes I was interested in, and I loved the area.  It made me feel good.

My first day at Eastern, I was scared out of my mind.  My roommate, who ended up becoming my dearest friend, my maid-of-honor at my wedding and we roomed together all 4 years, was different than me.  As in, I think she had not one but several Bibles, and posters on the wall professing her faith.  I brought pictures of my friends from home with beers in our hands from a summer party.  I didn't know what I had gotten myself into - but after a few weeks she and I overcame our fear of each other, and started to talk.  Really talk.  And I made wonderful friends, most of whom had a strong background in faith.  We had a blast, but they taught me, too.  I listened and sought God, and during my freshman year, I asked Jesus into my heart as a believer and follower.  I have loved him ever since, and I am raising my girls to listen and seek God also.

There is still so much I don't know or understand.  I will die not knowing or understanding - and that's ok with me.  It has nothing to do with my belief.  To some this may seem ignorant or uneducated - to me it is simply faith.   That's not to say that someday I may struggle...I feel that my relationship with Jesus is still a relationship where there may be hard times.  But every day I give thanks for what I have, and pray for protection for my family, and guidance for our day.    To pray brings me great comfort, to place my day, my desires, my fears, at the feet of Jesus so I don't have to go through it by myself.   I can't watch my girls while they're in school - but He does.  I don't know what their future holds - but He does.

I understand how people don't believe in God, Jesus.  It makes me sad, but I understand.  For anyone reading this, if you are not a believer, I hope you have an experience - the sooner the better! - that changes your mind, your heart.  I pray you feel the love of God alive in your life.

That actually was the short version - hard to believe, isn't it. :)

Tatie's faith walk

Before Kevin and I even had children, there was no question we wanted to raise them IN the church.  We didn't want to just have faith, and say "grace" before meals.  We wanted to become a part of a church family, where we surrounded ourselves with other believers in Jesus, and where our children could hear the Word of God spoken by people other than just us.  When Bailey was a baby, we attended Kevin's church that he was raised in, as my FIL spoke often there as an associate pastor.  But it wasn't "home."  Then when Taylor was a baby...we didn't just want a home church, we needed it.  After schlepping the children to different churches in our area, we happened upon HOPE UMC in Voorhees.  Bailey, at a young 2 years old. had cried her precious little face off every Sunday as we were trying the other churches but at HOPE she made it through the whole service.  They had a beautiful, large nursery for toddlers, and for infants they had a cozy little room with many toys, rockers, and 2 women who took to my Tatie right away.  They are still dear friends.  Kevin and I felt welcomed and wanted there, and they had many programs for young families.  That was 5 years ago next month.

Bailey has always accepted God as her Maker, Jesus as her Savior, her whole young life.  She has never questioned us on it, she just believes it.  She has seen times when she prays to Jesus and he helps her, and she accepts that when he doesn't - although it's hard - there is a plan at work and God's timing is perfect.  She knows we don't have to understand God to believe in Him.  She hasn't questioned why she has "special lungs" and other children don't - she knows that most of us have something "special" about us that you can see or not see.  I pray this faith remains with her throughout her life.  At a young 6 yrs old, she even told me she wants to go to other countries and tell people about Jesus.  My mother-heart that skipped a beat hearing her desire to leave my side, said, (and yes, I am embarrassed about this) "Bailey, you know you can tell people about Jesus right here in NJ!!  You don't have to go anywhere...." and she said, "Mommy, if Jesus says to go, I should go, and help the people that need him."

Whoa.  Yes, I was proud.  Over-flowing-ly proud.  But scared to be honest.  I shared the conversation with Kevin and because he's not a nut-job like me, simply told Bailey he was so happy that she wants to help people learn about Jesus.

Anyway.  Taylor, on the other hand, has been much more hesitant to jump on the Bible-bandwagon.  We have many, many memories of her screaming "No Jesus!!!!" and refusing to pray or even hear our prayers.  She didn't want to learn about God, read the Bible, pray.  Nothin'.  She had several, several temper tantrums on the way to church and HOPE could hear us coming the second we got out of the car.    Now of course we know that much of what she didn't like about church -- the many people and even the eye contact that friendly faces who tried to say hello to her gave -- was part of her sensory disorder.  But all the same, we had one child who wanted to give a message every time she said grace for her Cheerios, and another who didn't even want a cross hanging in her room.

I'm not kidding about that, fyi.  A friend gave me a beautiful children's cross as a gift when Taylor was born, and Tatie would climb on her chair, to climb on her dresser, to remove the cross.  I would hang it back up, and down again it would come.

But I did not worry.  Both of our children have the right to choose what they believe.  Of course Kevin and I would encourage them to believe what is Truth to us, but they still have free will.  But I knew that Taylor was God's child...and today, at 5 years old, she accepted Christ into her heart.

For the last year and 1/2 she has fully enjoyed attending HOPE.  She loves it.  She has many friends and everyone knows her and mostly everyone "gets" her.  A Tatie-Tot fan club, really.  She prays with Kevin, Bailey and I, she participates when we read from the childrens Bible.  She talks about God and Jesus.  But until today, I didn't really know if she got it.

This morning, I attended Bible study while Taylor played in the nursery with her friends.  Coming home, we were listening to music when she said, "Mommy, I don't want to go to Heaven because I'd miss you."  I told her what I believe about Heaven, and said that she and I both won't be there for a long, long time.  We stayed in the car once we got home and talked about how people get to Heaven, and death.  It's very difficult talking to a 5 yr old about these things, I didn't want to scare her.  I also didn't want her to go up to an old person the next time she saw them and say, "Mommy says very old people close their eyes and go to Heaven if you believe in Jesus.  Are you going to die today?  You look very old."

We talked, she asked questions, and really seemed to get it.  She said, "ok, so, no pain, no crying, lots of fun stuff, everyone's there, ok.  Yes."  She even said, "you're old, and you die, but then it's like a new beginning because you start over."  I asked her, "Taylor, do you believe that Jesus died on the cross for us, so we could be with him forever in Heaven? Do you want to have Jesus with you in your heart?" This is a concept she understands, because in helping Taylor get over her separation anxiety, we talked alot about how Daddy and I are always near, and she has us in her heart if she feels lonely.  She can think about us whenever she wants to.  Anyway, she waited a minute.  Like, a full minute, thinking.  Then she said, "Yes, I believe that."

and then she asked to go inside and get a yogurt stick.