1-2-3 JUMP

I have been given 24 hours to complete the “Coldwater for Missions“  Challenge. 

                          (thanks Abigail!) J

     If you know me at all, then you know that I will not pass up a challenge!

    The Challenge is simple: 

Find cold water and jump in it. 

“Call Out" 3 of your friends and tell them that they have been given 24 hours to do the same.

               It is supposed to be for Missions awareness, and for the life of me I couldn't see why anyone would do this.

     I mean, how does this help Missions?  How does jumping into freezing water do anything for the Kingdom of God? 

     I have tried hard this weekend to figure this out. 

  “a cup of cold water”…. “Go into all  the world?”

something…. anything… right?

     I mean seriously, if I am going to jump into a freezing body of water at least I would like to understand why. Does someone get money for this?  Is it a new “witnessing tool?”  

                       Where IS my t-shirt? 

Or.... is it supposed to be about something else?

      You have to make a conscience decision to jump into that freezing, cold, water.  You have to conquer your fear.  

You know it could be less than pleasant, probably painful…..and it will rock your world.  Your shocked system will go from scared, to numb, to exhilarated in a matter of minutes.

You must do it in front of the world (camera).

You must then get 3 other people to do it too.

               Uncanny  huh?     

Sounds a whole lot like what we have all been 
"Called Out" to do.

  Some people go to Africa to share the gospel and some do it at Wal-mart.  Some people adopt orphans, others feed the homeless. One man feels called to build houses, while the other man cooks supper for his family because his wife has had a long day.

The only common denominator in showing Jesus to the people of this world is...

It is not a request.

          The Great Commission is not optional. It is purposeful, and intentional... and sometimes I forget that.  I get busy doing life and forget about the LIFE that was given to me. 

        So, today I will jump.  I will do it on purpose and with full knowledge of what lies ahead of me.  I will make a decision to commit to my challenge.

Because today it is about a swimming pool… tomorrow it is about something much, much more.

               1-2-3 JUMP!

1826 days

          “What makes you think this is the greatest moment, 
the biggest thing that God is going to do with you?”

 My sister Cindy's words still echo as I replay those days.

           I had come through some absolutely, incredibly, wonderful, gut- wrenching days and we were all still here.

 Massive aneurysm, brain surgery, life and death stuff…. pretty scary stuff.

  I was satisfied that I had been given my miracle, my moment.  God had shown up, and shown out, and that was just going to be enough for me. 

God was not dead.  I had always believed it,  and now I had first hand proof! 

         HE had chosen to show me so much about Himself  and HE loved me and wanted to continue to work in my life.

    I learned during those days that God chooses to communicate with HIS children in different ways.  For me, it has always been with music. I don't know why, but it just seems like He gets my attention with songs.  

  It was around that time I heard the song, “God of this City."  I sat there just allowing it to sink in . I played it over and over again.  There was a message for me there.  It wasn’t the whole song, but just the part about “Greater things are still to be done here.”

 I took this as a timely reminder to me that God wasn't finished with me.  As long as I have breath,  HE will still act.

 There is always  more from the hands of my Jesus.

                     ( Hang on to that a minute, you will need it later!) 

 Fast forward 1826 days… 5 years.

          Yesterday marked 5 years of my journey.   5 years of lesson plans, supper, softball, dance, cleaning, 5 years of really good days, and 5 years of some really terrifying days.

          All the while, life happened.   So much life happened that most people who weren't involved in the story, will never even know it.

 Being human, I found myself wondering if anyone would even remember that it had been 5 years. 

  Should it even matter to anyone except me? 

          Have you ever had a moment where all you could do is experience God?  No words are needed, no words are adequate.  Only silent tears in the presence of your Savior? 

          I opened up my devotional, and my heart simply stopped.  There on the page was the date:

 March 9, 2014

and the scripture for the day was Psalm 139:15-16

          I couldn't even see the words through my tears.  You see, that is the scripture on my tattoo that is on my foot.  The  daily reminder that God knows me, God sees me, and loves me.

       I will never forget the night before surgery telling my family that if I survived this, I would get a tattoo to remind me. We joked about it for  a while, but in the back of my mind it was always there. I wanted the scripture that God had played over and over in my mind to comfort me.

  The one I literally clung to for dear life.

      On the one year anniversary of my brain surgery, Gary took me to finally get my tattoo.  A mark to serve as a forever reminder of the sovereignty of my God in MY life.   The Scripture is Psalm 139, and the flower is a Japanese Cherry Blossom.   

Both representing the "fragility of life"  and the presence of a CREATOR.

….and here I was 5 years to the day opening up my Bible, being reminded once again that God knows my heart. HE cares about what I care about!  That while life happened and time moved on- He simply didn't.  He is still the same…. and HE knows my name and HE remembers.

          I spent the rest of the day in celebration of my “special gift.”  His acknowledgement of me was enough.  I needed nothing more. How dare I even ask?  My God had gently reminded me that HE was still involved in my thoughts, heart and life.  

  I went to church and sat in the back.  I don't normally do that.  I am the minister's wife and have been on the front row for 20 years.  It was just that night wanted to be quiet and worship privately.  My blessed heart had cried all day and  simply wanted to thank God for remembering me on my "special day".  

Normally I go to church to get something, but this night I just wanted to thank HIM and tell HIM that HIS work in my heart was all I needed.

The praise and worship team began leading in worship and I stood there in awe.  Replaying my day and thanking HIM for all HE had done- not just that day but the last 5 years of this journey.  

And I guess you have figured out the rest of the story..... 

The last song.... of the last set.....  I heard the first note, and my heart just knew. 

The song was, “God of this City."

     I uttered whatever pitiful attempt I could through my tears.  I wouldn't even really call it singing, but I tried.

There I was, standing in the middle of hundreds, with one realization. While I was worshiping the God of the Universe, HE was remembering me....


.....and  Greater things are yet to come.....  ( that's pretty awesome!)     
  

Village People

          I always knew that one day I would meet her.  I just never thought it would be today.

 She is young, hip, cool…. and she plays a guitar.

            A Sunday afternoon meeting to hang out at Starbucks.  The excitement in my daughter's voice when the text came in was cute.  Her making sure I wasn’t late was even cuter.  I agreed, I drove her there and then it hit me…

 This was it, and I wasn’t ready.

You see, I know as well as you do that we can’t raise these kiddos all alone,  Lindsey will require quite a "Village" so years ago I began praying for..... her. 

Who is  “HER?”

The one that Lindsey will listen to, when she won’t listen to me.  The one that will get the “dirt” when all I get is “fine.”   The answerer of the late night dinging of the text messages with a 12 year old’s prayer request because she just got into trouble again.

……and no I am not jealous, more like thankful.

Because, I have been "her."  You can’t be the other half of “Gary and Niki” and not have a few of these precious charges under your belt.

          I even remember saying once to a dear friend, “ You think there will be a Niki for my girls?”

           To Lindsey, I am mother.  Killer of all fun.  I have specific tasks and roles and this isn’t it.

Every girl needs one.  The person that will listen to your heart and listen to you rant and rave about your mother, then tell you – “ Your mom, she might be right.” The one that is just a little farther along in the journey, yet close enough to remember what it is like.

Oh- and most importantly….  she will point you to Jesus.

Hold on to Jesus......my dear Jessie,

 because Lindsey needs you....

and I need you more!

Happy New Year 2014

 Happy New Year!  2014

            It was after midnight in downtown  Atlanta.    A friend’s mother was in ICU and we had ventured out to check on them.

After midnight tends to make me reflective...

 After midnight, in a hospital, sitting with some friends whose mother is fighting for her life, makes me want to scream!

             “Wait!  Stop, Hold it! This chic needs a do over!

            I always begin my year with a word.   A mantra of sorts.  Not a resolution, but just an awareness.  Driving home, leaving that hospital, it occurred to me that I  had found my word for 2014……Enough

Enough:

·       With the excuses.

You and I both know that if you really want something badly enough, you will make it happen.   I am coming to the realization that it is time to quit justifying my decisions.  It is time for action.   Do it, don’t do it, but quit excusing it. 

·       taking my health and my future for granted. 

This year marks 5 years  since my aneurysm.  What have I done to make the world a better place, or to make Niki a better person? I still eat like I am 20 and that whole exercise thing is a farse.  I was given a second chance, why do I get to waste it?

·       of living every moment for social media…

     Posing for pics, retakes, and just the right shot, Instagramming and Facebooking everything to show the world how fabulous we all are.    We are fabulous, but not because the world clicks a   “like “ button.  

       Now, I am not saying that I am going to close accounts or get crazy and start deleting stuff….just  a conscious effort being more aware that the moment is always more important than the photo or post about it.

·       bullying…

Even in my own home, with my own little girls.  Somehow I got the idea that mom and sergeant were interchangeable.  Barking orders, issuing decrees all for the sake of “Parenting.”   When, in all honesty, it is more about my being proud... than them doing the right thing.

·       with what’s next…

 Why is there validation in martyrdom? Overdone schedules seem to be a badge of honor.  Talking about all we have to do in the name of “ life” seems to be the topic of the day.  Let’s face it- Everything we do or skip, we choose to do so.  I choose to do. Saying there is not enough time is just not true.  There is time for exactly what I make time for.

                         I am tired of living and still missing life. 

       The cruise control is set on such a high speed we don’t seem to know what to do when we slow down.    We had a rare day recently where we chose to just do nothing.  Do you know how hard it is to just do nothing?  For people who define success with activity, the participation in a slow day can be terrifying.

·       of beating myself up over unrealistic expectations. 

 So, the house isn’t perfect,   the papers took longer to get graded than originally thought,  I forgot something ( which is a really big deal for me) , the kids make mistakes,  they are not perfect-  I am not perfect either. I can be the enemy or perfection can be the enemy .   Not both....   I don’t really want to be an enemy.

·       Excess...

       It is astounding.  I guess I figured this one out in all of our travels.  I no longer even pack in suitcases, but more often in huge storage containers.  I said it is just easier, but the truth is, they hold more stuff, and we like stuff.

·       With caring more about what others think...

        than God.   I think we can honestly say that time seeking other’s approval is far greater than most of us spend seeking God’s approval.  My boss, my husband, my family, my friends, and these kids, all determine worth and value instead of the ONE who created worth and value.  This must change.

             I do not have a handle on how this is going to look just yet. I am not sure what to do about all these areas.  I can only take it one day at a time.  I guess I am going to just have to depend of God daily to show me the changes needed to make.

             Let me challenge you to search yourself and find your word this year.  Keep it as you focus on the daily.  Write it somewhere where you will be reminded.

  Because…..

                                     This year, my word is ENOUGH

I have enough,  I am enough,  because HE is enough for me.

Thanksliving

My name is Niki, 

                     and I admit I am a “Black Friday Shopper”.

          My sister and I get up long before the sun.   We trudge through the masses in search of treasures, we laugh at the idiots who fight over Furbie  ( actually saw someone go down once over that one!), and we love it.

         I have listened for days on the protest over shopping and Thanksgiving… and for the life of me I just don’t see it.  I don’t even see why it is a point of discussion.

         I have read the rebuttals about how it takes “thanks” out of Thanksgiving Day.   Personally, I think that is a wonderful concept.  

We take a DAY and say “Thanks God”...  read that again

                 We take a DAY and say  “Thanks  God”

There are over  70 + other verses that talk about a thankful life style.

         What happened to Thanksliving?  What happened to daily acknowledging of what God has provided?  What happens on Saturday or Monday?  Why is that supposed to be different than Thursday?

I want to grab the “nay sayers” and ask them all,   “So, you don’t plan on buying or shopping?”   If you are going to be gluttonous, irresponsible, excessive, or over the top, then why does the day you do it on matter? 
            

          Are those who scream “excess” on Thursday are sitting at the computers on Monday fighting for the Cyberdeals?

Most people I know who preach about the evils of Black Friday shopping, still do it.  They just feel better about it on Dec. 1.

         Now, we do Thanksgiving like everyone else.  We eat and spend the day with family. We are genuinely reflective and thankful for what we have as a family, but that also happens EVERY other time we eat or come together. 

         I used to think that we were missing something because our Thanksgiving dinner was just like every other dinner, then I realized the blessing that is.   Being raised in a family of faith whose PRACTICE it is to recognize God and his goodness daily, did kinda makes Thanksgiving…. just a little bigger meal.

                   I guess, at Thanksgiving we need to remember that the beauty of our country… is in choice.     The choice has never been about what day you are to be Thankful, but just to be thankful.

         I wonder sometimes if the people yelling the loudest  about Thanksgiving are the ones who would miss it altogether…..if it were interrupted on that ONE day.

        

.

The Beauty of Imperfection

“Sadly folks, Summer ended at 4 o’clock today.” 

               What a sad thought for this girl.  We sat at a local restaurant right off of the beach I love,  and listened to a waiter usher this depressing blow.  I love everything about the lazy days between May and September.  Always have.  If you know me at all, then you know there is only one place I really want to be when the season comes to an end.

               If my girls have inherited anything from me, it has to be our love of the waves.  Lindsey has grown up in the sand.  She is that child with the bucket, the one hunting shells. She will begin her relentless pursuit of finding treasures.

                Now, understand her quest is not for what you or I would deem worthy.  I have seen her throw back shells that could be sold in the store.  She just smiles and says, “Not that one.”

               I had a few hours to kill, so one afternoon I joined her on her adventure.  I sat by the shore with my daughter, and asked her to tell me about her newest additions.

               She proceeded with the utmost care in unfolding their splendor to me.  Honestly, I tried, but all I could see was a bunch of misshapen, broken, ugly shells. 

Not one would I have chosen as my prize.

               Like a proud parent, she recounted each one’s story.  She spoke of their adventures in the sea.  She told me where they might have come from and some….. how they may have been broken.

She shared with me their journey, evidence of a trial.  Storms, waves, ultimately ending up on the shore ….. in pieces.

 Not at all how they started, but here they are….. Stranded,  waiting for someone to pick them up and point out their beauty.

               As I sat there and listened to the wisdom of this 11 year- old child, it occurred to me that she has vision that the world doesn’t grasp.  

The beauty of imperfection.

This was not the plan,   but it is also not the end.

             We are all touched by it.  Victims of dreams deferred.  Everything from life careening off course,  to unfulfilled desires of family, or love (or both).

“God, what are YOU going to do with this?   Where is the beauty?

….. cause I just don’t see it.”

There was a plan,  but now what?

 

               I have a heart that hangs in my kitchen that was given to me during our first year of marriage.  I was so proud of that heart.  A dear friend gave it to me as a symbol of the work that God was doing in me at that time. 

….then the storms came, life got hard,  and I was at the end ( of everything).

               One day I came home frustrated and in a hurry, I knocked the heart off of the wall and it broke.

 I picked up the pieces, and I cried. 

               I called the heart giver.  I asked her to give me another heart.  In her wisdom, she said that she wouldn’t give me a new one, but we could still use mine.

               We put the pieces back together and she said,   “Sometimes, the beauty can be found in the scars”.  

                I still look at that heart every day.  A constant reminder that broken …doesn’t mean worthless.   That imperfection can still have purpose.

There is redemption to be found among the broken.

               My heart, Lindsey’s  shells......

  Beauty is not found in what is missing, but what remains.

I wonder if  God sometimes looks on His creation and His heart breaks a little.  We see all that we aren't, all that we missed, and  all the broken pieces that we use to define us.

and HE sees the beauty in what we are.

The world may not see it, but we are HIS prize.

 Redeemed, ready to be picked up and put on display....broken pieces, scars and all.

I Hate Burpees!

I HATE Burpees…

      It's true.  They may very well be the death of me.  I also hate those stupid  double under thingys. I REALLY can't stand toes to bar.

 

BUT I am loving Crossfit.

      I have learned some new terminology this summer.  …Things like W.O.D. (Workout Of the Day) and “sweat angels.” (…like snow angels just made out of sweat). These things, once foreign to me, are now a part of my everyday life.

 Gary and I have promised each other to get healthier this summer.  He started this craziness and then looked at me and said "Now…You too!"

 So we Crossfit.

      I must admit that it is the hardest thing I have EVER done.  You see, I am the girl on the couch WATCHING the exercise video with a Dr. Pepper and a Krispy Kreme Hot Fresh Glazed Doughnut.  I can yell "Looking good, doing fine!” with the best of them.

But for me to get involved, well...

   I am not going to lie to you, it is hardcore.  It is like none other I have tried.  The instruction is top of the line.  The people are great.  They are in it solely to help me and everyone else. 

                               …and probably most important...nobody cares if I cry. 

     My excuses don't work.  My sad little stories don't cut it.  NO, is not a viable option.  Just suck it up and do it.  …Quit whining, complaining, and slacking.  If you want results, you must do the work.  No one can do it for you.

But, when you succeed, no one will get the reward but YOU.

Did I mention it is hard?

     It is not an uncommon sight to witness bodies sprawled out on the ground everywhere after a workout.  The room looks more like a battlefield than a workout facility.  As I was lying on the floor gasping for air after a recent workout, the strangest thought occurred to me. 

 “This is my life?”  

                              …or more importantly ...What if This WAS my life?

 

       I guess the reason I haven't blogged in a while is that I had nothing really to write.  The pen(computer) won't go where the heart hasn't been. 

                                             And my heart has been lazy.

      What IF my spiritual workout everyday left me gasping for breath at the presence of the HOLY God in front of me?  What if I was laid flat on the floor by HIS Word? 

 There was a moment a few weeks ago where things started to come together for me.  I was attempting to lift weight for the first time…

 …and it well, hurt.

 I looked at my coach (Jimmy, who is also the owner) and said, "Uhm, I think I might need to stop.  This hurts."  He looked at me and smiled and said.  "It is supposed to." 

Then he just walked off...the nerve!

 

I, then  heard a conversation between another coach and a participant. "You’re not really serious yet.  You didn't even come in here dressed to give it your all." She was talking physical, all I heard was Spiritual.

      How many times have I just gone through motions, when I can hear..."Niki, you know what to do, YOU have so much more inside you.  Face it kid, you are not even trying.”

      But, I think the most profound moment in the gym happend on my dreaded nemesis...the pull-up bar.  

 I was getting some one-on-one training (i.e. Special Ed. Crossfit) doing pull-ups. There I was, dangling in the air, being told to pull myself up.  HA!  Like that could EVER happen!

I actually laughed in her face(the owner’s wife) and said "Uhm…No!"

She told me a few things to help me and made it seemed doable.  I was doing ok, but frustrated because I could never really get it.  I had decided I was finished.  I had done a little work and thought I would quit before things got too intense.

When I had no strength left…She said. "Do one more."

 I thought she was crazy!  I had struggled, but never came close to getting my chin to the bar, now exhausted from the struggle; she thinks I can do it?

     She explained to me. "Sometimes it's not the first 9, it is number 10 that you will be able to do." Those 9 attempts are getting you ready for the challenge.  Your muscles will remember what to do when your strength is gone."

Whoa!

What if that were true in my “other” life?  The day to day battle we are all in.

What if the next time something comes at me, I was ready?  I had done the “work” and I was prepared.   

                                   What would that “life” look like?

 So many times I see in Scripture that this life is a race.  Something for which we must train.  We are warned that it is going to be a battle, but the abundant life is out there.  Peace through any storm is out there.

 

                             But we have to put forth the effort to know HIM.

  “The Prize” is ours for the taking.

 

Oh---did I tell you…I REALLY hate Burpees!