My Atheist friend vs. my Christian friend

So I already know that I'm gonna get blasted for this, but this blog is called What's On My Mind, and this has been on my mind for several weeks.

Now, before I start, I know the fundamental difference between my two friends based on my beliefs as a Christian. Belief in Jesus Christ is the only way to Heaven. God's Word is true from In the beginning to Amen. But I want this to make a point about how, as Christians, we don't show the true Jesus, and we will be accountable one day to Him for our actions. And if we as Christians don't show the true Jesus, how will the world really know Who He is?

I have two friends (well, I have more, but I am using these two today to make my point): friend A is a Christian. Friend B is an atheist. Let me tell you about them in relation to my recent illness, without being too specific as I don't want to reveal names and such...just how I felt related to what my friends profess.

Friend A was sporadic with texts, visits and support during my hospital stay. There were several things that Friend A did during this time that I thank them for, but felt like they did out of obligation rather than true concern or care. Once I was home, the texts remained few and sporadic. One text even said how important our friendship was. But I called this person (they didn't answer), in tears, left messages and texts saying how much I needed someone to talk to and how depressed I was. Two days later I got a text stating "Hope you found someone to talk to". Friend A lives 5 miles from me and in the 10 weeks I was out of commission, I got a 10 minute visit to drop off something. Every time I asked (and I hated to ask) them to come visit, I got "I'll catch up with you soon". Soon has never come.

Friend B was at the hospital with me several days for several hours, waiting on me and my mom hand and foot. Friend B kept in touch with me daily when they were working through phone calls, texts and Facebook. When they weren't working, they came and spent time with me, allowing me to talk, to cry, and to share the God portions of my experience. This is a person who doesn't even believe in God, but they listened. Friend B is an amazing person with a huge heart and does amazing things for the people that they care about. They freely say I love you, and love without boundaries.

Friend A told me on multiple occasions that I didn't have enough faith, and when I quit my job on faith because I clearly heard God speak, looked at me and said, "Are you crazy? You got fired, didn't you?".

Friend B once told me that I was one of the few Christians that they would listen to because I am honest about who I am in my faith, and I am not a hypocrite.

Friend A often treats me like I am headed to Hell in a handbasket because I'm not perfect.

Friend B loves me because I'm not perfect and don't try to act like I am.

So you see why this is on my mind? Fortunately, I chose to talk to Jesus about my depression and sadness during my illness. But as the Church, we are supposed to support each other, lift each other up, and encourage each other. And as the Church, we are supposed to show Jesus to the world. If we are too busy judging them, how can we show them Jesus?

This has been repeated to me many times over the past few months in many ways and in many messages: Jesus came to Earth the first time as Saviour; He will come back as Judge. In the meantime, as Christians, we should be showing the Saviour to people, not acting as judge. Jesus hung out with whores, drunks, thieves, the "undesirables" so to speak. When questioned, He said it was the sick that needed a doctor, not the healthy.

When did we as Christians decide to go ahead and start judging for Jesus, and keeping record? What are we gonna do, hand Him a notebook when He returns and say "Just FYI, here's what all these 'sinners' have been up to while you were gone."?

No, when Jesus returns as judge, I will not be concerned about the "sinners". I will be face to face with my Saviour, and I will have my own life to account for. I will be in complete awe and reverence. I won't be pointing the finger at my neighbor saying, "Yeah, well wait till you hear what she did...".

I ramble, I know...but it hurts my heart to know that I have been friend A at times in my life. Professing Christ and having no love for anyone, only judgement.

How can the world see Jesus in us if we are acting like the world? If we don't care about each other? If we are too busy to care?

I know I've learned a lot during this time, and I want to care about people, regardless of their situation. Cause that's what Jesus did.

And that's what's on my mind today.

Well, Hey Clyde!

The last posting left us at the hospital with me heading back to my room. I have to admit, once I woke up, I don't remember a whole lot else about that day or night. I have been told that I said some pretty funny things, though.

One thing that I do remember is that as they were rolling me back into my room, I looked up and saw my associate pastor, Clyde, standing there. My mom told me that I waved at him and said, "Well, hey Clyde!" and Clyde said, "Well, she knows who I am, so she's okay".

It's amazing to me that I don't remember a lot of things about the hospital after surgery. Maybe it was the meds they had me on...maybe it was just so much going on that I couldn't process it all...but maybe it was God's amazing grace that allowed me to rest not only my body but my mind those few days.

It makes me think about my past and my sin, and how Jesus sees those things. I heard a story once about a nun who told a priest that Jesus spoke to her, audibly, as if in a conversation. Of course, the priest did not believe her and told her that the next time Jesus spoke to her, to ask Him one question. The priest said to her, "Ask Jesus what sins I confessed in my last confession". She told the priest that she would.

The next day, she came back to the priest and told him that she had spoken with Jesus again. The priest, still doubting, said to her,"Did you ask Jesus was sins I confessed?" She said, "Yes, I did". The priest said, "And what did He say?" The nun looked at the priest warmly, smiled, and said, "He said 'I can't remember'."

Sweet forgiveness...Jesus doesn't remember our sins once we are forgiven. He doesn't remember our past before we came to Him.

But we're not that way with each other, are we? Just like my mom and my friends had to remind me of the things I said and did in the hospital, we can take this to a different level in our Christian lives. We want to measure our sin against other people's sin...we want to remind each other how bad we are...we want to hold people in the past...

The things that Jesus doesn't remember, we don't want to let people forget. Why? To make us feel better about ourselves. I am struggling right now with someone who insists on reminding me of everything that I have ever done wrong. And every time I think we are okay and we've settled things between us, he shows up and dredges it all up again. Every time I think I can trust him again, he shows up and proves that I can't. I personally don't have time for that kind of drama in my life - it reminds me of the Pharisees.

I choose to live in the mercy and grace of Jesus, whose death on the cross covered all my sins. If mercy and grace don't exist, then neither does Jesus. The Gospel is the mercy and grace of a loving God who sacrificed His only Son for a world that didn't deserve it. Not letting each other out of our past and our sin just cheapens that grace.

It's just what's on my mind today.

Where Do I Start?

This picture was taken by a friend of mine at probably my favorite place on Earth, Camp Little Crossroads (aka Crossroads Camp and Conference Center; I prefer to remain old school LOL). One thing that always calms me is water - whether it's at Crossroads, or sitting by the Rockfish River, or being overwhelmed by the vastness of the ocean and it's waves. No matter where I am watching the water, one thing is for sure. Each wave brings something new.


My life this year has been like the waves in the water - each moment is bringing something new, something uncertain. As I mentioned in my last post, we have dealt with many deaths in my family this year, which brings about a special kind of grief - the loss of someone we love. Death also brings about changes - our loved ones being gone change things, like where we might live, where we celebrate holidays, who we go to when we hurt...we also face our own mortality when the family seems to be getting smaller and smaller.


Before August 7, 2012, I had never faced a personal health crisis. But on that day, I took my first ride in an ambulance to the ER at Martha Jefferson Hospital. I was diagnosed with diverticulitis that had abscessed. God sent me the best surgeon ever, Dr. Andrew Bailey, and he explained the treatment options, with worse case scenario being major surgery and a colostomy. I was admitted to MJH and started on antibiotics. Two days later, after some different kind of pain, it was discovered that my bowel had perforated. I was rushed into the worst case scenario - major surgery and a colostomy.

There were so many God moments during the hospitalization, and over the next postings, I want to share with you how God showed up and showed off; today, I want to share my OR experience.

Everything happened so fast, but when I went into the operating room, I was completely calm, completely at peace. See, people were praying for me and with me. Prior to surgery, I had a phone call from my friend, Laverne, who prayed with me, a visit from my friend, Billie, who prayed with me, and my friend and colleague, Ruby, who not only prayed, but helped them roll me to the OR.

People were rushing around me, and I remember saying to God, "If I wake up in Heaven with You, that's ok. If I wake up upstairs with my family and friends, that's ok, too. I'm good either way". Complete peace. Then, in the midst of this chaos going on around me, someone walked over to me and took my hand. I didn't know if she was an angel, a nurse, a doctor or what. She had the kindest eyes, and even though she had on a surgical mask, I could see her smile. She said, "I'm here, and I'm going to be here with you through this." Again, complete peace. I remember looking up at a man standing next to me, then sleep.

It seemed almost immediately (although it was a few hours later) that I opened my eyes, and I saw a three headed woman standing over me. I joked and told my pastor that I had read in the Bible that some of the cheribim and seraphim have multiple faces, so I didn't know immediately if I was in Heaven or still at the hospital. But I blinked a few times, and she had one face, and she checked me and then sent me back to my room where my family and friends were waiting for me.

You know the cool thing? If I was in Heaven when I woke up, I still would have had a group of family and friends waiting for me...grandparents, Dad, and those who had recently gone on ahead of me.

The doctor in the ER told me that he couldn't believe that I was smiling and laughing as sick as I was. The 10 days in the hospital, people said, "You seem so happy...how can you be that happy being this sick?" One of my friends who was there when they took me to surgery said, "You just walked over to that gurney and got on, like a brave soldier."

I have one answer for that, friends...it's called Jesus Christ.

I can't say I wasn't scared. I feared many things that I might have had to endure and may still have to endure as I face more surgery. But I know that God is with me, and that either way, I'm going to be okay. My faith in Jesus will allow me to endure what I have to endure while here on this Earth, and my faith in Jesus will allow me to live for eternity with Him when I leave this Earth.

God gave me this verse during my recovery:

2 Corinthians 4: 16-18: Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward [man] is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding [and] eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen [are] temporary, but the things which are not seen [are] eternal.


So as the waves come, and I experience my "light afflictions", I will praise Him through it all.

God's got this. God's got me. And He's not gonna let me go.

What happened?

Well, I guess you guys wonder where I have been since June and my last post. Sometimes I have to stop and think about where I have been since my last post in June. 2012 has been a crazy year for my family. It started in March and it continues, and will continue into next year. In March, my aunt died. The night she died, Steven followed me in the kitchen as I talked with the Hospice nurse on the phone, and when I hung up, he looked up at me with his hands out like a little Italian man, and said, "Wissa, what happened?" I find myself looking up at God in a fog, not asking why, but "What happened"?

It's been non-stop since then. My aunt died on March 5, her daughter in law committed suicide on March 28, and my uncle died on July 24. One family. My aunt and uncle dying caused my cousins to have to find a new place to live after being raised in that house since 1993. At my uncle's graveside service on July 31, I looked at everyone remaining in my family and said, "No one else is allowed to get sick or die in this family for the rest of this year".

Two weeks to the day, I was in the emergency room with diverticulitis that had abscessed. Two days later, I was rushed to surgery with a perforated bowel. 10 days in the hospital. Another week of IV antibiotics when I got home. 9 weeks out of work. Colostomy.

All this time, my mom was struggling with an issue that we came to find out was misdiagnosed by her doctor (PS - don't let your doctor or nurse tell you they don't have time. You know your body. Make them listen. If they don't, find a new doctor.), and we learned last week that she has cancer. It is a rare form but completely treatable with 6 weeks of radiation every day of the week, and chemo in addition to the radiation.

So, where am I in all of this? Trusting God even more than I did before, and loving Him even more than I did before. Even though I said I was starting to feel like Job, I know my God is faithful, I know He is still on His throne, and I know He is in complete control.

My friend Lori posted this to my Facebook wall on Sunday: This was from our scripture reading this morning and I thought about you... Job 23:10: "But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold." Tell Patty Cakes that you two are gonna be the Golden Girls! ♥ you both!

There will be many stories to come about my hospitalization and recovery, and how God has been in every step...so I'm changing my focus right now to giving God the glory in all that is happening...stay tuned for more...

I Want To Have A Godly Message....

I want to have a Godly message. James 3:5-9 "Likewise the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell. but no man can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God's likeness." My tongue gets me into a lot of trouble - my mouth runs about 10 minutes ahead of my brain. That's why in the past year, I have been hesitant to post a lot of the things that have been on my mind. God has had me on a roller coaster ride and I want to share my experiences with you all, in hopes that it will help someone else who is dealing with what I have been through. However, I do not want to do this in a spirit of anger or criticism, or really, in a sinful way. So over the next few weeks, with much prayer, I am going to share the story of my past year with you; the good, the bad, and the ugly. I am going to share with you when God told me to move and I refused to, how He moved me. I am going to share with you the pride, the fear, and the relationships that kept me from moving. And I am going to share with you where He has placed me today. I hope you will come along for the ride, and I hope that God will use my experiences to somehow give you a clearer sight of Him, regardless of what is clouding your vision right now. I want you to see the Jesus that has revealed Himself to me. And I pray that if you don't have a true relationship with Him now, you will. Let's get this journey started.

Potato Chip Fingerprints

My guitar is sitting at home right now with a bazillion greasy potato chip fingerprints on it.

And that's okay with me.

Let me tell you how they got there. I was privileged last week to go on a mission outreach visit to a women's shelter. And I'm gonna be honest. I was scared. I have seen domestic violence in the branches of my family tree, but it was never something that affected me at home. I didn't know what to expect. And I can tell you this much - a year ago, I wouldn't have gone on the trip.

Why? A year ago, I would have judged instead of loved, I would have condemned instead of showing compassion. My preconceived notions and stereotypical narrow mindedness would have kept me in my box I built all on my own with tools given to me by narrow minded people.

But the person I am now wants to be the hands and feet of Jesus to the lost, to the hurting, to the forgotten...to carry Him into the lives of everyone I meet.

So I threw away the remaining scraps from my broken box that I have escaped from and joined my group of friends to go on this visit. We took dinner, a craft for the kids, and I took my guitar to play some songs for them. I unpacked the guitar when I got there, then stepped outside to see what was going on. One of the ladies let me know that some of the kids were strumming on it so I went back inside to check on things. There was a little boy, shorter than the guitar that was leaning in the corner, steadily strumming the open strings. I knelt down beside him and that's when I heard him singing:

"The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout...."

I listened intently and applauded when he was done. He looked at me and said, "I know another one".

(Steadily strumming again) "A, B, C, D, E, F, G...."

Again I listened intently and gave him applause.

This got the attention of the other kids and we spent some time talking about the guitar and how to be easy with it while playing it, and I listened to them sing like children do. After they ate their dinner, they came back over again and continued to play. Potato chips were part of the meal, and not everybody washed their hands before touching the guitar again (and I think I fall right into this category), so this is where the bazillion potato chip fingerprints came into play. And I was so caught up in the innocence of these children, it didn't even occur to me to care that their hands might be dirty.

What I saw through the eyes of my heart were women and children of all walks of life who needed help, not a hand out, but a hand up. I watched them interact with each other and saw how they had become family to each other.

And I saw a group of women sing children's worship songs with a joy in their hearts that I would love to see in the hearts of the people in our churches...that I would love to see in my own heart.

We closed with Amazing Grace. One of the verses says:

"Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come;
Tis Grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home"

I have a whole new picture of grace.

I have a bazillion little greasy potato chip fingerprints on my guitar. And it doesn't bother me.

Because I also have a bazillion little greasy potato chip fingerprints on my heart.

Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for your Amazing Grace.

It's just what's on my mind.

Inside Out

I was recently having a conversation with someone in the sanctuary of our ministry center. The ministry center is located in what used to be a Methodist church. There were red cushions on the benches in the sanctuary there that have been there for quite awhile. This person said to me that someone had taken some of the cushions home in hopes to repair or re-cover them. Some looked pretty ok to me, but some were in need of new coverings, and some had areas that needed to be repaired.


When they took the covers off of the cushions, there was nothing but dust inside.

I quickly looked at my friend and said, “I hope if you cut me open, there would be more than dust inside”.

Then it made sense.

We all have our “covers” - what we look like on the outside. Some of us work very hard to make that outside look good, and it does. Some of us have lots of “patches” - areas that need work. And some of us are worn completely out.

And if someone wanted to fix that “cover” on us, and attempted to remove it, what would they find? They break through that cover and find….

Dust.

That’s where I feel like I have been lately. Someone cut my cover off and found only dust. I have been doing “ministry” work because it is what we are supposed to do…but what I forgot was that I needed to be doing the things God has called me to do, and doing them because I love Him; not doing things that other people think God has called me to do because I fear their opinions if I say no.

Was I serving God or serving man?

Most of my “works” kept me inside the church building and had me doing nothing to bring lost souls to Christ. I sat in judgment of people I didn’t understand, instead of having compassion on them.

And saying that I love Jesus Christ with all my heart and soul; yet, I do not know Him. I know what other people have told me about Him, but I have not taken the time in 6 years to KNOW Him.

If you cut me open, you would find dust.

If you open the doors of most churches, you would find dust.
We have become lukewarm, and we have forgotten our first Love.

We judge others for things that God has forgiven us for. But somehow we think we are “better” than the lost. Hear me, Jesus died for all. And I was lost, and the only thing that makes me different now is I have accepted the grace and mercy that God showed me when Jesus died on the Cross for my sins.

But it doesn’t make me better than anyone else.

We have made the church a club instead of the house of God.

We have turned the sanctuary into a concert hall.

The altar has become a stage.

We go to church to be entertained instead of forgiven.

We eat and socialize, when we should be fasting and praying.

The words “prayer” and “Jesus” are almost like a foreign language.

We sit back and wait for the lost to come to us, instead of going out and sharing the Gospel with them.

I have recently been reading a book about Mother Teresa and in reading of her call to the slums of Calcutta, she reminded her superiors that we should not sit back and wait for the lost to crawl out of their holes and come searching for Jesus, that we should be crawling into their holes to them and taking Jesus with us when we go.

I am full of dust.

And I was reminded of the following song by Keith Green:

“Rushing wind, blow through this temple

Blowing out the dust within

Come and breathe Your breath upon me

For I’ve been born again

Holy Spirit I surrender; take me where You want to go

Plant me by Your living waters

Plant me deep so I can grow

Jesus, You’re the One who set my spirit free

Use me, Lord; glorify Your Holy Name through Me

Separate me from this world, Lord

Sanctify my life for You

Daily change me to Your image

Help me bear good fruit

Every day You’re drawing closer

Trials come to test my faith

But when all is said and done, Lord

It’s been worth the wait.”



I’m praying for that rushing wind to cleanse my heart.

It’s just what’s on my mind.