Over due thoughts from the summer

Story about Jenniah better known as "our girl, 'Niah"

I had the distinct privilege of working alongside Hannah Livingston aka “Droodle Face” or as I believe she’s best been called, “Noodle Head” for the first 6 weeks of the summer. She wrote a blog or two about base camps and so details about the work we did or shared experiences can be read on her site Art of the Heart. But there is an event we shared that we didn’t revisit and relive as much as the others though in reflection I’m not sure why. Most of the summer I read my counselors stories out of other people’s books and biographies, they were simple and big ways the Lord had revealed himself in their lives and it gave us all hope that He would do the same with our campers and the same with us. And towards the end of my time shepherding my girls for the summer I realized over and over the Lord has allowed me to witness my own big and simple moving of my Savior in my ‘ordinary’ life and the powerful ways He has moved in our campers as well. I was broken and realized I needed to quit reading others words and speak what I’ve seen the Lord do. *

So if it’s alright I’d like to share an encounter now:

Week 4 was the last full week in June for this summer and our traveling camp found itself in Tuscaloosa, AL. Maybe not a thriving metropolis, but not the smallest town we had been to either. It was hot like Texas which the locals assured us was unusual and premature for this year’s weather. I tolerated the tour of the University of Alabama (go Aggies) and was shown true southern hospitality by my beautiful host family and got to drive the 15 passenger van to carpool everyone to the church in the morning.  It was truly a great week.

Working at camp we measure our summers by weeks, skit characters, campers, and the mishaps or schedule shifts that make each day as unique and eventful as gold fish’s memory. This week for me was marked by a specific family of campers. And sadly I don’t even know their last names. There were roughly 14 kids in this family or so I was told, some siblings and some cousins. The family are tornado victims, the moms are sisters living in a trailer with all their kids. No dad is present in the home. A young woman from the church some how crossed paths with the kids and got involved in their lives, her and her mom carpooled the 10 who were within base camp age range to the church everyday. There were 6 boys who came and 4 girls, the 3 oldest girls were handfuls in their own right but some how they had wrapped all of us around their finger especially the baby of the girls- Jenniah. Jenniah is going into first grade, she is so tiny it was hard to believe and so joyful you would never imagine her hardship. All week it was my favorite thing to visit the youngest girls cabins just to see sweet ‘Niah, as we lovingly nicknamed her, interact with her counselors, cabin mates, and siblings. On the last day I noticed ‘Niah and her counselor having a hang time during sock wrestling and soon after that her counselor, Droodle Face, came to find me. Fighting back tears, Hannah told me what Jenniah had just shared with her about her life. Apparently her mom kicked out her dad at some point because he used to hit Jenniah. I was angry and upset. I went to talk to our director about what to do and sadly there wasn’t much we could do. The dad isn’t in the home anymore, and if he’s moved our or kicked out CPS has no one to stop if he isn’t there.

I was afraid and mad by my lack of control. I could not protect our precious baby ‘Niah and I couldn’t help her. I trapsed back to the sock wrestling room defeated and now on the verge of tears, I peaked my head in and called Hannah out. As I explained the helplessness to her she nodded her head and then called for Jenniah to come out to the hallway. I picked up the sweet child and squeezed her close to me as I hugged her and held her, knowing this is the last day of camp, probably the last time I’d see her and the last time I would know I was making her safe. And in that moment Droodle said, “Tell spirit stick about your dream” taken aback but still holding her I leaned away from her and said, “Oooh what dream ‘Niah?” “Tell me, please”

Last night I went to bed and I had a dream I left my house and went away

R: Where’d you go?

N: To heaven

R: To heaven?

N: Yes, And I was there a loooong time.

R: What did you do there?

N: I saw God.

R: You saw God?

N: Yes, and He gave me a rock.

R: A rock!

N: And He told me pray with this rock and accept me.

R: So Jesus is your rock?

N: Yes.

H:Last night you asked Jesus into your heart, huh?

N:Yes.

(Tears are rolling down my face)

N: Uh oh your eyes

R: I know they’re watering like yours (Niah had a bacterial eye infection from living in a dirty and unsanitary environment, she took eye drops twice a day at camp)

N: Lets go to the nurse

R: No, no, I’m ok I’ll be ok.

R: That’s so wonderful about God, though, so wonderful

(She smiles, slides down from me holding her up at face level and walks back in)

I look at Hannah press my hand to my heart and let her follow Jenniah back into sock wrestling. I know what Hannah and ‘Niah had figured out way before me hearing about the dream was that her circumstances are uncontrollable and her future is uncertain. And is much as I would like to move to Alabama, I can’t. But God has her. Boy does he have her. He revealed himself in a dream to this precious 5 year old.

So much of what the Lord revealed to me this summer was a greater sense of urgency for His gospel to be met with a greater boldness in His calling on my life. I worked to press that on to the hearts of my counselors and fellow staffers, I would ask about missed opportunities and the root of our personal issues/ sin that kept us from sharing the Gospel. Good things to think through and process through, to get to a deeper understanding of what God has for us here on earth. But yet again He shows me and reminds me that He does not in fact need me. The pressure is not on, the burden is light, and my failures covered. He will reveal Himself to His people and sometimes if I am willing and anticipating He will choose to loose me as vessel.

.

*(Not that others words are bad, heaven knows I will keep referencing Bob Goff and Shauna Niequist as long as they keep writing about Jesus.)

In loving memory of Poppa John

Dear Jennifer, Rebe and Clark

Poppa would have been 90 today.  It has been almost five years since he died, yet I think about him  quite a bit. On his birthday,  oddly,  I really do not remember birthdays that he celebrated for himself.  He was so modest; his own birthdays were just another day on the calendar.  I really cannot remember him making his own birthday any sort of event. To celebrate his birthday, I thought I would pass on a few lessons that I remember. First, he always had time for us.  I remember him pulling into the driveway when he came in from a trip or from the office.  From the moment that he arrived, he was at our disposal.  He taught me to throw a football, throw a baseball and shoot a basketball.  He probably did all of these "sporting events"  while still in his work clothes.  Although some Dads (including me) want time to decompress or adjust to life outside work, I recall that he made time for us.  I cannot remember him being too busy or needing to carve out time for himself or his events.  It didn't occur to me until I was older that he really liked being around his own kids more than anything. Second, his "yes was Yes and his no was No".  The truth was not optional.  His word was his bond.  I have tried to live by such an example and I know that I have failed miserably at times.  If I have failed, it is not for lack of an example of a good and upright man.  I do not recall him stretching the truth or telling little white lies.  I do not remember any wink and a nod and "this is between us" type of moment.  People like this are fewer and fewer today.  In fact, it seems like with folks like Poppa  there are not many layers to peel back as the top layer is what you get : honesty. Third, the beauty of the earth enthralled him.  He could be flying to another state or driving over the flattest part of Texas,  but he always seemed to be seduced by the grandeur of what God had made out of nothing.  I know that I have had a love affair with beaches;, but my Dad love affair with what God made extended to all sorts of places.  He wanted us to see all sorts of places in America and Canada because they were worth seeing.  We took long car trips, not because Dad needed to spend 12 hours a day in a station wagon with  4 kids and his wife.  We took the car trips because there was something special about everyplace that we went and everything that we saw.  As I think about it more and more, he still had a boyish sense of awe.  Every time we went up in his plane, he had a sense that "I can't believe that I get to fly" all over again.   Any time we went on a long car trip, we got to go someplace that we had not seen before and might not see again.  He seemed to remember every small town in Texas.  I read something once that said with God there are no little people and no little places.  I often forget  (shame on me) one or both parts of that statement.  My dad set a pretty good example of the fact that every place that you go is unique: breathe it in. I love you guys so much.  I knew Poppa John well enough to know how proud he would be of his grandchildren. On a less serious note, Ranger is 2 today. 

-Dad

The Gospel

A Challenge was issued by my friend, Courtney, in an email a few weeks back:
"A coworker and I have tasked ourselves with presenting the Gospel to each other this week.

My coworker is not a believer, but has recently committed herself to studying the Word

We assigned each other the homework on Thursday afternoon after reading through the first chapter of John (we have started studying a chapter/week of John after recently finishing James together before Christmas).

She wrote down the assignment in her journal Thursday.

Then handed me a page & a half of typed Gospel explanation on Friday...

I was asked not to read it until finishing my own assignment -- which I have now completed. 

I have yet to read her thoughts but plan on doing so as soon as I get home.

It's been a ride going through the Word together.

I'm embarrassed to say that I believe she has retained more than I.

I've realized that, most of the time, I serve as a sounding board for her thoughts on the scripture and her questions regarding seeking wisdom, finding joy amidst trials, and humbling ourselves with a teachable spirit.

Her questions have been answered by the text 100% of the time.

Shocking, huh?

Realizing I've never asked most of you this, I'd like to learn from my best friends.

What is the Gospel?

Do we need pages and pages to explain it?

Or half a page?

No clue.

But I think we need to explain it.

I know life is busy and crazy and full of other things to do.

Apparently I've been doing all those other things for awhile because I can't remember the last time I outlined this part of my soul.

Thoughts appreciated."

.... Heavy, huh. Ok so write out your respond, seize this time to put "all those other things" aside and really do this, it took me over a week to finish mine, but once you finish yours you can read mine.

(Its below) Don't cheat yourself.

My Response:

"I must tell you that this charge you gave us is in large part my emotional life raft right now because as I write you back I reflect on the past few weeks. And I praise God that he orchestrated your words to come just at the time they did! 
My dad’s cancer is back. Courtney, I wish I had told you sooner (So I’m sorry for dropping this all in the same letter) but no time like the present, huh... Anyway it was so divine placement because I got your email about the Gospel the night before his surgery on the 17th. The week prior to getting your email I fell into an emotional pit. Tears were hard to squeeze out but yet all I wanted to do was cry and I ate every meal but I had little desires or cravings or taste and I considered throwing something but I knew I would not feel any better or any release. So I sat on my bed a lot and aimlessly ran errands with my mom (which I really do enjoy but had no joy at the time). All that to say I know I fell into this pit because the enemy so easily robs me of my hope and he wins when I quit clinging to the promises I know to be true. We knew for sure dad’s cancer came back the 28th of Dec but the doctors wanted more scans besides his usual MRI to verify this, then after more meetings with his oncologist, internist, and surgeons he took a week off chemo and scheduled one surgery for the liver on the 17th and another surgery for the lung on the 23rd. And on the eve of my dad’s first surgery your email was the Lord’s reminder and invitation for me to cling to His truth and promise and LOVE for me. Isn’t that just SO like our GOD?! To invite me to proclaim his mercy and grace in a time when I need most to do that for myself. So I stayed up until 2am and tried to write out the gospel and I think I wrote maybe three rough drafts and they just weren’t it. I had a track, God’s story (like history of Abraham to David to Jesus) and some verses. But I kept wondering what’s the essential?
God made us in his perfect and pleasing image so that we might be like Him and so that we might 
. But here’s the thing- I have prayed and asked the Lord to bring suffering in our lives. In the same breath I ask him to heal my dad and please use another mean in our life then to continue to shake us to our knees, but if not I trust the Lord and his will be done. Because I know that suffering produces hope and hope perseverance. Because in suffering I know the Lord as my sole provider. And in suffering I often fall into a pit where only the Lord can pull me out and in this kind of suffering I see that’s all I want and need is for Him to rescue me. 
So I think that’s the Gospel that GOD has rescued us. Essentially.
Ephesians spells out the gospel so wonderfully in my opinion-
Chpt 2:1-10
As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. All of us lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our sinful nature and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature objects of wrath. BUT because of His great love for us, GOD, who is RICH IN MERCY, made us alive in CHRIST, even when we were dead in our transgressions- IT IS BY GRACE YOU HAVE BEEN SAVED. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might share the incomparable riches of His grace, expressed in His kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith- and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God- not by works so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship created in Christ Jesus to do good works which he has prepared in advance for us to do.
I read an article by Kathy and Dr. Tim Keller in relevant magazine by and in their article they’re talking about how marriage is so painful and wonderful at the same time because simply put it was designed to reflect the gospel.
“The Gospel is—we are more sinful and flawed in ourselves than we ever dared to believe, and at the very same time we are more loved and accepted in Jesus Christ than we ever dared hope.” 
http://www.relevantmagazine.com/life/relationship/features/27749-you-never-marry-the-right-person
Preach it Kellers! - I am more desperate and desolate and destitute then I could ever want to really believe and accept. BUT CHRIST ALONE has made me clean, worthy, and an heir to His heavenly throne and kingdom-, which is more than I could have ever wildly hoped for. What a beautiful contrast, what hope!
I think that is the Gospel.
To digress for a moment, I’m going back to a little of my current situation. So in between my dad’s surgeries I went back to school, went to a few classes and then went back to Dallas for the second surgery. And flew back to college station for good for the semester on the night of the 23rd. And when I started debriefing with friends and roommates in between the two surgeries and after his most recent here is what I proclaimed- Romans 8:18-29 and most loudly vs 28. 
I may not always feel this happiness in my heart, I may feel like I’m in an emotional pit, but my God is not a God of feeling. My God is however author of time and He will say what happens in my family’s life. My God is my sole provider and He is the one who gives me breath. My God is my savior and with out Him I am forever trapped and lost. My God is my redeemer and with no sacrifice or price paid by me he rescued me from wrath. 1Timothy 1:12-17. 
This is of no glory to me but all to the Lord- I seriously pray that God continually bring suffering on my life. I ask that if the Lord wills that he will heal my dad of cancer, but to then use another means to bring trials in my life because it is only through this that I have gotten the JOY and PRIVELEGE of knowing God as my healer, provider, father, all the things above. When I look down the road of my life I don’t have a want for my dad to die before I’m old, nor do I have a want to struggle in marriage or struggle with children or experience loss. But I know that in all of those things the Lord draws me, draws us into Him. So I pray that he never lets up. It is pure joy and honor to face trials of many kinds because of the hope we gain. Matt Chandler said it would be so cruel if God withheld these struggles that draw us to more of him just for the sake that we could remain healthy and happy but never know the depths of his love. 
So it’s now the 24th and I am halfway through your assignment and coincidentally without a lesson plan or game plan for 2015 bible study. I think over what to do for this week, maybe share what God’s doing in my life or maybe wing something… And 30 min before the girls get there I see that you and Kelly have commented on the bstud status so what do I take that as? - Another invitation from the Lord for us to proclaim his Truth. 
So I took the laptop to bible study, read your email to them and said, “alright, lets do it, tell me the gospel”. So we sat there as they each chimed in and tossed around what is the gospel.
The Lord moved that night and used these girls as vessels of righteousness to speak His truth over me so that I just got to hear the Gospel over and over. And then see too who needed more clarity in the Gospel. And another divine thing happened at bible study. One of the girls asked- “Is it just the Gospel?” Does knowing the gospel = salvation? Does believing the gospel = salvation or accepting the gospel= salvation or is there more? Is salvation accepting and following or can it stop somewhere and if so where because heaven knows I don’t want to add to it, right?

So I have some ideas on an answer to that but I left my girls with a passage to read. And I want to know your thoughts on that question.
So how do we mark salvation, both in our lives and another? How is our friend saved?
I want your initial thoughts and then also thoughts on the chapter-
I had the girls read Mark 10:17-end of chpt 10."

The namesake

Why the blog name?

In my sophomore year of college I bought a yellow dress. I bought the dress because yellow is one of my favorite colors to wear and I loved the frilly neckline. To get my bang for the buck and mainly because I felt like a million bucks in it I wore the dress to 2 weddings, 2 date parties, and to church in that spring/ summer season. After that year I felt could've created a picture book entitled tales of the girl in the yellow dress since it was sort of like my signature, but I started a blog instead.

I realize that when blogs first came out I rolled my eyes at them, mainly because I pictured them to be something like zenga diaries for hyper emotional people or they might be something where web enthusiasts share the latest cheat codes for dragons and dungeons, and then something happened. I read a blog. I don’t know who’s blog I read first but I remember seeing that Courtney Mcrea wrote a blog and then Mary Grace started a blog, just for a class, but she let me read it after reading hers and then finding other author’s blogs I started to see how wonderful they were.                     

Eye roll retracted.

I am not profound, or a writer, or even the best communicator. I am however a daughter of the Living God who is the lover of my soul. I am also a college student not necessarily trying to figure it out but just seeking what He has for me. I don’t blog a lot but sometimes I do and it’s purely because I sometimes just need to put words to my thoughts and experiences and send them out there. 

A Christmas Confession

Below is a facebook message I sent out to the freshman girls in our 2014 Bible Study. It felt right to be a christmas post:

Sweet Girls,

My prayer for all of you has been that your break might be peaceful, restful, and restoring.

Today Brie and I had over an hour-long phone call discussing life and everything we needed to get caught up on since we departed ways before finals. During our chat I made some very real confessions to Brie of inadequacies I feel in my everyday life/ who I am… I saying things like “how well I ever be this” or “how will I ever do that”. First thing Brie encouraged me to do is throw those ideas away. She said “Rebe, put those lies in the trash.” Second thing was she challenged me to memorize a bible verse to replace those lies. For example mine was ‘I am going to be a horrible counselor this summer’ and the verse I am memorizing for that is 2Corinthians 12:9 “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

The reason I share this story with all of you is because I want to challenge you all to do the same thing. I don’t know what the lies you might believe right now are, but I think I can take a swing at one of them that I think we may all be fighting this time of year, and that’s the lies the world tells us about Christmas. See I opened this message with my prayer for you girls, and that was for a peaceful break, but I think what I hope the most for you lovelies is that you find the truth in Christmas this year.

If your break has been anything like mine then it has not been restful or restorative. I have been running around getting Christmas gifts for family members and running errands for my mom and neighbors that I’ve almost had all I can take of the mall and the grocery store, that I would love to stay away from both of those locations for a year. I believed I have coined the term “I love Christmas, but hate the holidays”. And here is how this came about. I believe I was so stuck in mall parking garage traffic the other day and 30 minutes late for meeting my aunt that I found myself on the verge of yelling in my car to myself “I hate Christmas”… But I didn’t, one because I know I really don’t and two because it feels like taking the Lord’s name in vain. So that is when I admitted allowed to the Lord in my car (in the parking lot of Northpark) that I love Christmas and the fact that He sent us His only begotten Son and everything this day means. But I told them that I hate what we, what I, have distorted it to become. I realized in that moment that I made Christmas a season of looking for the right gift to give instead of remembering the greatest gift of all. Its cheesey but I believed the lies that commercialism sells me, that its all about finding the best scarf for my sister, and newest game for my brother. And all this holiday PC mombo jumbo… So I’ve decided I needed to memorize a few truths about Christmas this year and I just wanted to share them with ya’ll.

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. 
And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. “ Isaiah 9:6


“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel (which means, God with us).” Matthew 1:23

So if I may I am going to pray a new prayer over you girls right here in this message:

Father, thank you that you have chosen us and that while we were still sinners you sent to our world a baby boy, your Son to come and live a life of perfection to one day bare all of our sins and pay our debts. God what a time of waiting Christmas was and is, and then it was your people waiting on this baby to be born, waiting on their deliverer. And now here we are still thousands of years later we are waiting for you to come back. I pray for each of these girls that you would take out the lies of “the world’s holiday” and remind each of us that unto us a son has been given. He is wonderful counselor, mighty God, everlasting Father, Prince of peace and we eagerly await and expect his return. I pray you would bless and keep our sweet girls this Christmas. Let them live this Christmas eagerly and courageously. Amen.

I speak not only for myself, but for all the leaders when I say we love each of you so much (even if you never come to bible study and are just in the facebook group- we love you!) and we care about you. Have a very Merry Christmas.

~Rebe & 2014 Leaders {Brie, Chloe, Hannah, Kelly, & Lauren}

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z75tEiGet3Q&feature=related

Some news, family reunion, and a whole lotta grace

I’m on the flight home and I can’t help but sing Bethany Dillon’s “Waking up” song in my head as I peer out my air plane window and realize that I’ve been chasing the sunset across the south for the past hour home. The view is a beautiful sight- its like someone turned the flame from a gas stove upside down so that a magenta orange blends to a light tangerine that perfectly fades into a pale yellow meeting baby blue to the hottest part of the flame- a true indigo blue. On the plane I’m sitting next to my two best friends- my mom and dad. My mom sits on the isle and has been flipping through the September issue of Instyle magazine holding it up to show me cute fall coats and to have my dad smell and comment on every perfume scratch and sniff ad. My sweet dad has been sitting in the middle currently reading “Radical” by David Platt in between testing fragrances and serving as my pillow. In the past 48 hours my parents and I have watched my younger brother come in 42^nd in his cross country meet in Dallas, flown to Jackson, MS to celebrate the 70^th Birthday of my cousin Johnny, and drove to Memphis, TN to see my older sister’s new house and roommates. Now the three of us are flying back to DFW airport where we will part ways and I will go back to College station and they will go back to our home in Dallas. As I stare out the plane window I start to think about saying goodbye to my parents and warm tears pour down my face, so I close my eyes and pretend like I’m falling back asleep for a nap on my dad’s arm. As he feels my head hit his shoulder he reaches his hand around to pat my head, which at this point makes the tears worse so I pull my scarf up to my face to soak up the tears. I’ve been a private basket case all weekend and really all week, which I didn’t want him to know about since I know it only makes him feel worse. On Tuesday of this past week we got a call from his doctor that one of his scans showed spots, spots in new places on his liver and lung. My dad has had cancer before in his colon and this will be the second time its come up in his lung and the fourth time its come up in his liver. He has undergone countless rounds of chemo totaling up to 18 months, three surgeries, and countless hospital visits, MRIs, and CT scans. But three times prior to this he’s been pronounced “in remission”. I remember in June I gave him a hug after his last round of chemo and with tears in my eyes I said, “I feel like I’m hugging a miracle”.

Today when I press my face into my scarf and nuzzle my head to his shoulder it feels like no less of a miracle. I think I cry a little in part because I am scared to loose my dad and don’t want to know what life with out him is like. I think I cry a little in part because I do remember that his presence is such a miracle and such a gift I know of several kids who have parents die with little notice or warning. And so I can’t help but feel overwhelmed with grace and mercy. Who am I and who are we as a family that the God of the universe would hear our cries. We are but broken and unclean sinners. So who is God that he would shower love upon us?

Man! Our God is Creator and Power! He is Faithful and Compassionate. We are a lowly people so indebted to a God who owes us absolutely nothing, and yet he gives us His son. He saves us, and adopts us. In Him we are new and in Him we find redemption.

Sometimes things so wonderful and so undeserved make me cry. Like a sweet gift or an ‘I love you’ after a big fight or an ‘I’m still proud of you’ after a big disappointment. Those things just make me well up inside, probably because grace and the math of grace I will never fully comprehend. And probably because grace is such a beautiful picture of the Lord that when we see it demonstrated I feel like I’m being shown a little more of his face.

Miracles while lifeguarding

The last Sunday in April I was back in Dallas where I was finishing up lifeguard certification course for one of my jobs this summer. It just so happens the class was at Tom Landry Fitness center, which is connected to Baylor hospitals. The indoor pool where I was being trained backed up to a beautiful park filled with statues of children and fountains and all sorts of lush green flowers and plants. And on Saturday most of my classmates and I took their lunch break out there, but on Sunday we noticed the park was occupied.

There were all sorts of bounce houses and slides set up, there were big tents filled with cute tables and chairs and lots and lots of food. I would have attempted to casually crash the party outside and snag some free munchies but I noticed that most everyone at the picnic was wearing either a green or white shirt. And I'm pretty sure I'd stick out like a sore thumb in my navy blue swimsuit and hot pink shorts. So I asked one of my instructors what was going on out there and they told me it was the Transplant reunion picnic.

The words transplant reunion replayed softly in my head, as I watched through the window I could see so many people's stories unfolding. Some families had both white and green shirts in the family (I'm thinking green was recipient and white was for donors), I saw what I made out to be two sisters both in their 40s with their husbands and children standing there for a picture one in green the other in white and both families beaming. I also saw a dad and his teenage daughter wearing a white and green shirt and him holding his daughter's hand. For some people today they were maybe meeting their bone marrow donor for the first time. Another family there may have lost their college age daughter in a car crash last year but they were coming to the picnic today to meet the sweet 10 yr old girl who now has a second chance in life since receiving a heart transplant. Whole families came together to mark another year of life a new organ had given one of their loved ones. It was poetic. God's glory and grace was made alive in that park. As I looked on I began to cry and not just misty eyed but the kind of streaming shaking tears that won't stop till you turn away. I wasn't crying because I thought of how long each transplant recipient must've waited for a new organ, and I wasn't crying because I was thinking about the pain it must've caused the donors or their family. I was crying because God was revealing to me His utter goodness and compassion. How perfect is our God that he knew before he formed all of us in the womb what struggles in our life we would face but not only that he knew how he would hold us and keep us through those troughs. How majestic is he that he would reveal to us medical breakthroughs so that a little boy born 7 yrs ago who got leukemia would survive thanks to someone else’s bone marrow. My mind cannot comprehend how loving our God is that while we live in a fallen world and while we are still sinners he never forsakes us. He rescues us out of darkness and showers his love upon us. He heals us. God brought me to that lifeguarding class that weekend to show me one of his modern day miracles. As I composed myself and jumped back in the pool to hide my tears I felt the Lord just reminding me- Rebe, I am healer. I will deliver my people. Rebe, I hold the world in my hands. Nothing is too great for me. Remember.

IF you want to check out more about the picnic the Dallas Morning News wrote an article about it : http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/latestnews/stories/042610dnmetdonorwall.3786.html

Also Kari Jobe wrote a great song called Healer that is definitely worth downloading