The Bravest Person I Know

brave/brāv/

Adjective:

Ready to face and endure danger or pain; showing courage.

Often when we hear this word, we think of soldiers, law enforcement officers, firemen. Maybe we think of Christians who are persecuted, or Rosa Parks, for taking a stand for equal rights.  In this modern day, few of us probably get to meet someone that is really, truly brave.  I have met such a someone.  She isn't a fearless soldier, although she is fearless.  She is not a courageous fireman or law enforcement officer, although she is truly courageous.  She is not a persecuted Christian in a foreign land, although she is certainly persecuted.  She is a not quite 17 year old, just a couple inches over 4 feet tall, who has had to endure much more in her short life than nearly all of us will in all of our years. 

She is my niece, Sarah. 

Sarah has Eczema.  Now, most of you are thinking "Well, that's just dry skin.  Hardly anything to be brave over."  No, for Sarah, it isn't just dry skin.  It is dry skin over every inch of her body. Skin so dry it flakes constantly, cracks open, and leaves sores and scars.  Her skin can be so dry that the backs of her knees crack open to the point she cannot walk.  Even the creases around her eyes can and do crack open.  Look down at your body.  Imagine that every crease in your skin is now an open wound.  Think about a mosquito bite or the worst case of poison ivy you have ever had.  Multiply it to COVERING YOUR ENTIRE BODY.  That is what Sarah endures EVERY DAY.  Now, imagine you are a 16 year old high school girl, who has to go to school every day with flakey skin, a bottle of moisturizer to be applied every hour in order to make it through, and a stature that is extra small due to the many medications she has had to take over the years.  Hmmm...think about YOUR high school days.  Do you think that your peers would be loving and accepting of you?  Do you think they would see your sweet smile or be too distracted by your mottled appearance?

THAT is why Sarah is the bravest person I know.  Brave because she gets up every morning, even when she hasn't been able to sleep because the itching is so bad, spends MUCH MUCH longer trying to look "normal" just so people will not stare and she goes to school.  Brave because her whole life she has had to defend her illness.  "No it isn't chicken pox , or scabies, or anything else that is contagious.  It's just Eczema, and I have it really really bad."  Brave because her whole life people have stared at her, wondering what is wrong with her but not really being compassionate. Brave because last week at lunch, her "regular" crowd wasn't there, and when she went to sit at another table, all of the kids got up and left.  And most of all, she is brave because tomorrow night, Sarah will go to her Junior prom, BY HERSELF.  A date would have been too much to ask for, even though Sarah is such a delightful companion.  Smiling, giggly, silly, fun.  But Sarah couldn't even find one of her friends to go with her.  So tomorrow, Sarah will have a facial to hopefully smooth out some of the uneven tones.  She will have a hairdresser put her long, thick hair in a beautiful updo.  She will get dressed in her beautiful pint sized dress, and go to the prom, alone. 

I wish I could change it for her.  I wish that someone would have compassion on her and accompany her to the prom.  I wish....SO MUCH for Sarah because the world has been so cruel to her.  Wishes don't do anything, but I wanted to share why...

Sarah Lindsay Houston is, by far, THE BRAVEST PERSON I KNOW.  And I could not be prouder to be her aunt.

God provides even the littlest of things...

8 years ago this month, God provided us with a lovely home in a rather miraculous way.  It has been a blessing to us and to anyone else we could bring into it, and we are very thankful.  The trying economy, our decreasing income, our first children heading off to college in a few years, and the expense of running this household have prompted us to (once again) place this home up for sale.  We had only planned to stay here a few years, and now it has been 8.  Our finances are incredibly tight, and we have been faithful to let God know that we are willing to do whatever He asks.  That has caused us some dramatic cutbacks in many areas.  Recently Truett asked for new cleats for baseball.  He is almost out of his size 9s, and after all, the older boys wear the cleats with spikes in them instead of rubber.  I told him that our budget really did not allow for new cleats until absolutely necessary, but I would continue to look for a bargain.  So far, visiting Good Will and thrift stores had proved unfruitful.

Since we have taken the Dave Ramsey statement to heart,"Sell so much the kids think they're next!", we held a yard sale over the weekend.  This yard sale was to help our ailing budget, but also to set aside at least half of the money for four of the kids to go to church camp this summer, and for three of them to go to Child Evangelism Traning.  This training will enable them to teach 5-day Bible Clubs throughout our community the rest of the summer. While it is a wonderful mission endeavor, which equips them in ways for Christ far beyond this summer, it is over $300 per child to attend.  When we opened up our yard sale on Saturday, I simply asked God to replace the grocery money I had spent this week, which was roughly $200.  I labeled envelopes for each of the children to set aside the extra money for camp.  Five hours later, we had nearly $600.  How exciting for our family to see Him provide above and beyond what we had asked!

Even more amazing, my friend and neighbor stopped by our sale.  She had picked up several things and asked what I wanted for them.  She is our favorite for giving hand-me-downs, leftovers, and miscellaneous, the most recent being a dorm room refrigerator which will come in handy in another year or so.  I refused money on the basis of all of the blessings she has given me!  She left and a few minutes later came back with an armload of sporting equipment.  Her son, she explained, had given up BASEBALL for Lacrosse, and didn't need them anymore.  In addition to some uniforms (2 sizes up from Truett!) and 2 very nice gloves, guess what was in that pile?  Size 9.5 cleats. With spikes.  In great condition.  Furthermore, as my friend was walking away, shaking the now empty duffel bag to get out the leftover dirt, she found a gold chain that her son thought had been stolen long ago!  Her kindness to me revealed another blessing to her!

We have said often it will take a miracle to sell our house.  I have a God in the miracle business!  If he can provide baseball cleats to my son from a friend that didn't even know I needed them, then I am confident He will sell this house when He seems fit, and will be glorified all the more. How marvelous is it that our God knows exactly what we need? And even when there is guilt that we cannot provide a reasonable want to our children, He chooses to bless us with it anyway? I have a faith that is so very small!  I am thankful that God loves me in spite of it.  And loves me enough to provide my son with baseball cleats, in just the right size. I hope my faith continues to grow to be just the right size, too.

Seasons...

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
Ecclesiastes 3:1

Seasons!  Yesterday Truett played his last baseball game as a member of a Carrigan team.  He played in three tournaments in All Stars, giving it his all every time.  He played so well behind the plate in one game, that the coach from the opposing team came over and congratulated both him and our coaches on his performance.  Wow.  And to think when he started catching in Rookies it was only because he wanted to play the infield!  As catcher, he played every inning of every game in All Stars.  His team would have most certainly been in trouble without him as Truett was the wall blocking home plate.  I was so proud of his heart.  He finished his Carrigan career with 3 RBIs, a triple and a run scored of his own, as well as another aggressive game behind the plate.  We finished 5th...just out of the finals, but I am so thankful that Truett did his job well.  He is glad baseball is over to make way for some low pressure summer fun! As this season comes to an end, I am thankful for all of the character growth he has experienced, the wonderful friends I have made (and will miss!), and the hours spent as a baseball mom.  Carrigan Park has been a blessing to us and will be greatly missed as we move up to Rotary Sportsplex and the next age division.  So I have washed my last Carrigan uniform...good bye baseball season!

And another season comes to pass...

Since Bradlee was about 8, she has been asking about going on a mission trip. Obviously, that was a desire that needed to be placed on hold.  Last year she began asking again so we looked for mission opportunities. Even though God closed several doors, He opened one that was such an amazingly perfect fit that it could only be attributed to Him.  A friend once told me that having children was like having pieces of your heart running around outside of your body.  So a piece of my heart got on an airplane to go to Haiti this morning.  As I write this, my girl is on the mission field, following the plan God has laid for her.  We dropped her team off at the airport at 5:30 this morning where they were full of hope and excitement for their adventure, covered in prayer by their friends and family.  Riding home I was thinking of all of the planning that resulted in a quick goodbye on an airport curb.  I was thinking about her safety, even though I trusted God with everything, knowing He loves her more than I.  I thought about all she will learn this week.  And then I thought what a big step she had just taken towards adulthood.  It is hard not to be sad when I think of my children growing up, but I remember, this is what our job is!  We are to raise them up in Christ, teach them His word, equip them with all they need to do great things.  We aren't raising them to stay at home forever being children.  They are to be productive adults, good people, ideally living with an eternal perspective. I pray we have done our job, through the grace of God, to equip her to do what she needs to do this week.  I am so proud of my girl and all that God has in store for her!

Toothless grins and Homeruns...

It seems that every time a milestone passes in our lives, no matter how big or small, I am prompted to write at least a little about it. After 2 years of T-Ball starting in 2004, Truett moved to playing baseball at Carrigan Park in Spring of 2006.    I was reading in Truett's scrapbook a memory that was long ago, yet seems like yesterday: "Our rookie season ended with a grand finale.  We played in the city tournament and had a great time.  Truett's team played very well.  The fourth game we played was against the team that had beaten us in the regular season and had finished first in our league. At this point, the tournament took second place to all other events, because during this game, TRUETT HIT A HOMERUN.  Anything else was just a bonus."   Now he is beginning his final season at Carrigan, one I face with mixed emotions. My son is no longer a toothless little boy but a tall 12 year old young man.  Last night, however, he achieved a long time goal:  he hit a ball out of the park.  His first at bat of the season, in his home park.  It wasn't a make it around the bases as little rookies committed error after error for an in the park home run, but rather a long, soaring hit that landed solidly on the other side of the fence.  One hit by a handsome 12 year old.  One thing that hasn't changed, though, is the winning smile stretching across his face.  That grin of shock and surprise as he rounded second and realized it was truly OVER THE FENCE was just as priceless as that toothless grin that crossed homeplate to the arms of a screaming mother in the dugout.  Now, last night I was still screaming, but I didn't scoop him up in my arms like I did all those years ago.  I subdued myself to a substantial high five and a hug.  I am blessed with a son that loves his family.  He is not embarrassed when I hug him, and he still hugs me every day and kisses me good night.  I hope he never outgrows that.  So, Truett will finish his final year at Carrigan, anxious to earn the "Iron Man" award, an award reserved for players that complete all six years (2 rookie, 2 minor, 2 major) at the park.  What happens after that, we're not sure.  What I do know, is that my oldest son has started his season off with a bang.  And everything after this, is just a bonus.

Memories!

Our story is a story of God ordained meetings and occurences.  It's a lot longer than I can post here at this time, but in honor of Valentine's Day, I will give an overview :)

Spring 1989, I was dating a Resident Advisor at Liberty University, where I was a student.  It was Youth Ministry focus week, and I attended a seminar with him in another class.  I was often being introduced to the guys in his dorm, so when a couple of fellas came up after the seminar, I didn't think much of it.  I remember the introduction, but nothing about the guys.  One of them whispered in hia ear and he laughed.  I asked what was said and he said he'd tell me later.  After we left, he said "That was one of my guys.  He said 'Please tell me that girl is your sister.' "  I thought it was funny.  Later that night, the "guy", Ben, went to the RA's dorm room and told him "One of these days, you're going to be without that girl.  And I'm going to take her out."  My guy thought that was funny, too.  Those are the only details I remember about our first meeting.  I couldn't have picked Ben out of a lineup if my life depended on it.  I guess you could say I was a loyal girlfriend, only having eyes for the guy I was with, but in reality, I'm just kind of oblivious that way.  I'm not really good about remembering people if I don't make a conscious effort!

Months pass...we are now in August.  My fella had gone home for the summer, and we weren't really serious to begin with.  It was no surprise to either of us when we decided to stop dating.  I was working at Winn Dixie, where I had been working since high school.  Several times people in the store would tell me that a guy had been asking about me.  They would describe him and I would be clueless as to who it was.  One evening I was working in the office and this guy comes in the store.  He asks one of our cashiers a question (a dumb question, I might add) and thankfully, the cashier he asked was busy, so she referred him to me, the bookkeeper working up in the "box."  The question?  "How do you make pink icing?"  I had to come down out of the office to help this poor fellow.  We went to the baking aisle and I handed him a bottle of red food coloring.  I explained that you add the red food coloring to white icing and that will make it pink.  I walked away.  He then asks "So, you just dump the whole bottle in?"  I remember thinking: "This guy is seriously domestically challenged."  "No, you add a little bit at a time until you get the color you want."  He tells me some ridiculous story about making a cake for a friend, wanting it to be as embarrassing and feminine as possible.  I smiled and walked away.  He calls again "Can I ask you another question?"  I at this point really just wanted to get back to work.  I turned and responded "Sure.  What is it?"  "Do you have a boyfriend?"  "Uh...no."  "Would you like to go out sometime?"  Keep in mind I had worked at this store for 4.5 years.  I had been asked out by a variety of interesting and not-so-interesting people who shopped there.  I had NEVER, EVER said yes to ANY of them.  So, why did I say yes this time?  Call it God.  I felt safe, secure, and confident that this guy was a good one.  Obviously, that guy was Ben.  Even funnier, he did not realize that the girl he met on campus that was dating his RA and the girl in the grocery store were the same person.  At least his taste was consistent!  And, he had to write a check for the food coloring.  I think it was 97 cents.  I still have the bottle, because, after all, Ben is a VERY smart guy.  His little story was all just to get my phone number.  It turns out, I was the one that wasn't very bright...it took me YEARS to figure out it was just a very creative pickup line!

There is more to our love story than that, but this was the beginning.  We got married in May of 1991...7 children and 20 years later, here we are.  I am thankful to God for the man he brought into my life all of those years ago.  Thankful for my children.  And thankful for red food coloring :)

Drawing Moments...

A friend's recent loss has left me compelled to write about the most difficult trial I have ever walked through.  6 years ago, Ben and I were expecting our fifth baby.  Having had 4 uneventful pregnancies, I expected this one to be no different.  We were full of excitement, hope and love for this new little one.  She was to be greeted by 3 sisters and 1 brother, all of whom loved her and could not wait for the months to pass so she would be with us.  This baby was very real and very much a part of our lives, even though she was still months away from us being able to touch her and hold her.  I had been sicker with this pregnancy than my others, but I was also older.  I didn't think much of it.  I was 18 weeks along, and was certain I had felt movement.  Having heard the heartbeat at 10 weeks, I had no reason to believe anything was wrong.  I went to see my doctor for a regular appointment, and since Ben was in California leaving me with no babysitters, I had 3 of the children with me.  That appointment led to a whirlwind of activity and devastating emotions.  Measurements, weight, blood pressure...all fine.  Doppler...not fine.  The nurse tried unsuccessfully to find the heartbeat.  Then the doctor.  Then the portable ultrasound machine confirms every pregnant woman's nightmare "There is no heartbeat."  What do you mean "no heartbeat" my own heart cried.  Of course there is a heartbeat...right next to mine!  I have loved and cared for this baby.  I have been careful, I have cut down caffeine, been drinking water, increased protein, taken my vitamins.  I have had 4 healthy pregnancies and no miscarriages.  HOW CAN THERE BE NO HEARTBEAT?  Coupled with the confused looks of three young children, ages 9, 8 and 5, it was all I could do to get out of the doctor's office without complete hysteria.  I do not remember leaving...I do remember the car being so low on fuel that in the midst of this horrible pain, I had to go to the gas station and from there began trying to call Ben.  Even now, I can still hear my voice gasping for breath as I sobbed the words "They couldn't find a heartbeat."  Home.  Calming my children.  Finding myself surrounded by this circle of friends who have been there for me always, none of them knowing what to say, but more than willing to cry with me.  Finally, Ben arrives home the next morning.  We pray for a miracle, but it doesn't come.  A more detailed ultrasound confirms that our baby was a little girl, and that while all appeared perfect, her little heart had stopped beating at some point around 16 weeks.  The next few days and weeks remain the most horrible I have ever known.  For weeks, maybe months, I would wake up in a panic, my heart crying out for the baby I had lost.  Ben was patient and loving, never critical, never telling me to move on.  He was in pain because I was in pain, but he didn't fully understand.  My biggest fear was that I would walk through all of this and still miss what God was trying to tell me.


Miscarriage is something that a woman must walk through alone.  It is painful and difficult.  Husbands love us, but do not really understand what we are going through.  A friend who has had a miscarriage or stillbirth may certainly relate to your pain, but since everyone's grief is different, it is still a lonely place.  The most lonely place, I believe.  It is in this place that we must rest in God's sovereignty.  KNOW it is HE that has made us, and HE made that little one, too.  He loves us and sheds tears for us in our pain.  It is a journey of reflection and evaluation, and we need to rest in Christ so that we may hear the message that God has for us.  Don't think that I walked through this with grace, because I didn't.  I was frustrated and angry.  I was mad at God and questioned what I could have done differently.  I am just thankful that I did not rest in THAT place, but rather in the one of God's love for me.  Had I chosen to be angry, bitter, and continually mourn, I would be a different person than I am today.  I chose to seek out what God wanted to teach me. I needed to know why God was drawing me close and what He was going to whisper in my ear.


For me, the message was CHERISH.  There may be more to it as I grow older and have opportunities to minister to others, but for now, this is my note from God.  I am a busy mom.  I am easily distracted.  Treasuring my children needs to be a priority!  For now, the most important thing that I can do is to bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.  To be distracted by "stuff" is certainly not what God wants for me.  This experience taught me to cherish my moments with my children.  


I found out I was pregnant on what would have been the due date for our baby.  I had mixed emotions of fear and joy.  Our joy was complete when Emmett arrived September 10, 2005, right at a year after our miscarriage.  He is a precious delight and adored by his siblings.  They lived with a mixture of fear and excitement, as I did throughout my pregnancy, that Emmett would not make it to meet us face to face.  The first year of Emmett's life, I told him every day "I'm so glad you are here."  I never took his birth, babyhood or very presence forgranted.  I marvel even now.  Birth is such a miracle.  Such wondrous development takes place in utero...so many things happening so fast and so many that can go wrong!  It is an amazement and wonder that any of our children are here.  What a gift from God!   


There is only one thing that can ease the pain of a miscarriage along with resting in Christ, and that is time.  6 years have passed, and while I can recall the pain, I no longer mourn our baby.  She is a point on our timeline, an important period that shaped the lives of myself and my children.  She will never be forgotten and is forever remembered as "the baby we lost."  I am thankful she is not truly lost, but FOUND.  Found to be in heaven with Jesus, resting with Him. Thankful that one day I will truly meet her.  


Miscarriage is not for the faint of heart.  I do know that walking through it made me a different, better person.  I would not wish it on anyone, but recognize the blessings that have come from my grief.  So if you have a friend walking this lonely road, do not try to fix them.  Respect their grief.  Pray for them.  Cry with them.  Know that in Christ, they will come through it as refined silver, with character that only deep pain can give.  If you are walking through this pain yourself, know that time will heal the rawness of the wound, but that baby that you lost will forever be a part of who you are.  Embracing that and remembering that God is SOVEREIGN will allow your heart to heal.

Fleeting Treasures...

August 16, 2010


Everyone had eaten dinner except for me, and Wyatt and Emmett were finishing. Wyatt asked me for something and I replied “No Wyatt, I am sitting down to eat dinner. I will get that for you later.” Emmett: “Then I am going to sit with you and talk to you while you eat.” Wyatt: “I want to sit ‘side you, too.” So I pulled both of their chairs up on either side of me and they chatted while I ate. Emmett finished and left. Wyatt looks at me and says, “You’re not sitting ‘side me, Mommy.” “Of course I am!” “Come closer, Mommy.” I slid my chair closer to his. “Touch me, Mommy.” I touched his sticky little rice covered hand. “I just want to talk to you for a minute,” he said. Precious little boy.


And to think, I almost went to eat my dinner in front of the television.