by Barb Roose | Apr 7, 2014 | Uncategorized
Hi friends, I usually like to post something inspirational or encouraging. But, not today. Today, I just want to share four things that gross me out. Here they are:
1. Hotdog chunks with spaghetti
This is the photo that started it all. I saw this on Facebook tonight and gagged. I didn’t almost gag. I gagged.
The only reason I’m posting this photo is just so that you can see what I am talking about. My apologies to every mother whose pinned this culinary fail, but you can do better than this. Com’on, Mom, resist.
First of all, hot dogs and spaghetti don’t go together. I’m not sure why I even need to explain this. There’s no amount of ketchup that can overcome this ill-conceived combination. Look at this picture – it looks like the hotdogs are hemorrhaging noodles like some kind of alien birth. Or worms. Aaggghhh!!! Hot dogs and spaghetti don’t go together, people. Yikes!
2. Touching raw meat with my hands
I’m a wimp. I’ll admit it. As a fan of historical literature, I give thanks to God that He allowed me to be born in the 1970’s. And in the suburbs. If I would have been born 100 years before, I would have been beaten or sold the first time they sent me out to kill a chicken for dinner. “Com’ on Barb, you would’ve killed that chicken and plucked its feathers to survive.” Nope. I can tell you that I wouldn’t have. Post-Civil War Barbie would have died of starvation by the side of the road. I know it doesn’t make sense. (Remember, I’m the same girl who jumped out of an airplane to avoid touching a tarantula.)
Here are the two tools I can’t cook dinner without…
I love meat. Clarification: I love most kinds of meat. But, I HATE touching it. Just the thought of ground beef squishing around my fingers gives me the willies. The though of touching slithery, cold chicken flesh tempts me to go vegetarian every single time I cook. But, I lose interest in the meat-free lifestyle once dinner hits the table.
Since my family is fond of eating and I like feeding them, tongs and forks are my friends. I can use the tongs to pick up and flip the meat. Forks can be used to spear the meat and stabilize it for slicing or chunking.
We had baked chicken tonight for dinner. Those tongs came in handy. But I made sure to wash them before taking the photo.
3. Food in the bathroom
Last week was April Fools’ Day. A clever person in our office posted “Watch out for the Leak” signs in our bathroom. At first, I tiptoed around the stalls, hoping to avoid whatever might be seeping across the floor. When I swung open the bathroom stall, I found the “leak”:
I laughed at the pun. It was funny and I appreciated the chuckle.
But, I couldn’t use the bathroom.
Food in the bathroom freaks me out.
Sure, I’ve finished a piece of toast as I’ve crossed into the bathroom to brush my teeth, but that’s all I can stomach. I’m a firm believer that invisible super-power poop particles are suspended in our bathroom air just waiting to land atop anything edible. I shudder to think that one of those microscopic particles could float down from the air and land on my morning yogurt or atop my buttery spread.
4. Finally, Tapioca…
It’s just gross. Looks like the backs of eyeballs clustered in a bowl. And, I’m not going to show you a picture of it. Yuck.
So, that’s it for the things that gross me out. If you were looking for something uber spiritual, stay tuned for another post this week (which means I probably need to write something). For now, I hope this post makes you smile on a Monday morning. Of course, feel free to leave a comment or share this post if you think it will make your friends smile, too.
See you soon, friends!
by Barb Roose | Mar 21, 2014 | Christian Living/Discipleship, Uncategorized
Bad news always feels like a punch in the gut, right?
This morning, I logged onto Facebook and saw that a young mother had lost her 2 1/2 year old little girl last night. This sweet baby suffered from a congenital disease and while her family knew that the precious one’s life would be short, nonetheless, the news came as a shock. By now, hundreds of people have posted their sympathies on her wall, including me.
Earlier this week, our senior pastor and my boss announced that he has Parkinson’s Disease. Many of you read Lee’s eblast on Wednesday night to the church. I’m not sure about you, but all kinds of emotions charged through my body. Shock. Sadness. Shock. These are sensations that we’ve experienced in our own lives as well as felt them for others.
One of the hardest facts of our human existence is that we cannot take away another’s pain. We want to. But, we can’t. And frankly, that sucks.
So, what do we do when tragedy or crisis strikes those that we care about?
What I’m about to say isn’t rocket-science, in fact it’s pretty simple. It might even be so simple that some of you might be offended because this advice seems too trite. Maybe, but sometimes, less really is more.
When it comes to talking to friends and acquaintances going through tough times, follow the “KISS” rule – keep it simple – by sticking with these three phrases:
1. “I’m sorry that you have to go through this.” STOP. This sentence is the exact right length to let someone know that you empathize with what he or she is going through.
Believe it or not, “I’m so sorry” is self-explanatory. It’s your expression of concern that the other person will value, not the amount of words that you use.
If the person wants to talk, they’ll keep talking – but let them make the call. If you feel that you want to say more, one great suggestion is to send a card. Cards are great way to express how you feel, yet give the person in need time to truly absorb your heartfelt sentiment.
2. “Is there anything I can do to help?” STOP. The best thing about humanity is our drive to rally in when tragedy strikes. It’s the part of us that digs deep to bring dishes to wakes, contribute to funds for fallen firefighters or provide resources to families whose loved ones are in a missing plane somewhere on our planet. However, bombarding the person in need with help can make them feel less in control than they already do. Yes, I know you’ve got great intentions! But, there is a time and place for everything.
The most respectful thing that we can do is let the person ask for help. (This is different if the one in need is a young child or an immediate family member, then the conversation is somewhat different.) Here, I’m talking about friends or acquaintances that have suffered a crisis or tragic situation.
Yes, there are people who struggle to ask for help, but most people will reach out. If you see a glaring need that must be addressed, offer specific suggestions like, “Can I make dinner for your family and drop it off next week?” or “Can I pick you up for your doctor’s appointment tomorrow?” If the person in need declines, accept it. Please don’t be offended and don’t badger them into saying “yes” to something he or she doesn’t want to accept in the moment. They may call later on after reflecting on your offer.
3. I’m praying for you. STOP. Prayer is powerful. Too often, we underestimate the amazing strength that comes from petitioning God on behalf of someone in need. Now, if you tell someone you will pray for them, they will be counting on your prayers! My tip: As soon as I say that I will pray for someone, I pray for them as soon as possible. Why? Because I’m likely to forget!
Here’s the thing about prayer…sometimes, God allows difficult or tragic circumstances to drive us to pray. Notice I didn’t say that God causes bad things to happen. In our fallen world, bad things do happen to good people. Yet, God can use hard things in life to help us – and strengthen our faiths. So, our prayers aren’t just for the person in need, but prayer strengthens our faith as well.
One tip…if someone you know is dealing with a long-term illness or difficult situation, send them a card every few weeks to let them know you are still praying for them. I know that God will use those cards and have them arrive at the times that person will need some extra encouragement.
Conclusion…
When we run into someone who is going through a hard time, don’t worry about being eloquent or a super-fixers, just keep it simple. Stick to those three statements and you’re concern and love for them will shine through.
TALK BACK TIME! What did you think of this post? Too simple? If you disagree, then what should people say when others experience difficult times in life?
By the way, if this post was helpful, please share it with others.
by Barb Roose | Mar 10, 2014 | Uncategorized
Here’s a portion of an email that I received from a woman about my “Trust Fall” message this past weekend:
“For me, I have a hard time trusting God with uncertainty. I like to know when, where, and how all things are going to happen. Over the past 6 months I have had everything that I had thought was for certain turned upside down.”
Can you relate to her story?
After this weekend’s message, I met a woman who told me about her benign brain tumor. It was discovered while the doctors were running tests after a simple dental surgery gone wrong.
“I’m so thankful that this tumor is benign. But, this tumor now serves as my reminder that I have to trust God, because I don’t know the future. I just have to trust Him.”
It’s interesting that this woman considers her brain tumor a gift that helps her to remember to trust God. Sometimes, I think that we all might benefit from something that makes it necessary for us to depend on God daily rather than think that we’ve got it all under control. Because we don’t. There’s so much of life that is outside of our control.
from inspirably.com
Here’s a tidbit that I didn’t have time to share this weekend…
It’s one of the writings that speaks into my heart so deeply because as a reforming control-freak, I struggle to navigate the uncertainties of life. I like to prepare for bad times – sounds silly, but I do. In fact, I have a “tornado box” in my basement filled with food, blankets, tools and water. Every few year, I update the box. You should know that I am big believer in life insurance and we own a 20′ fire ladder that we’ve (thankfully) never used. I like to prepare for uncertain times. (Did I mention I’m a reforming control-freak?)
Yet, we can’t prepare for everything, can we? Bad things happen to bad people. Bad things happen to good people, too.
Let me introduce you to a guy named Habbakuk. (Say it like this: “Ha-bac-kuk”…good job!)
Habbakuk was one of God’s prophets living in ancient times and his homeland was going to be invaded. Things were going to be bad. In his writings, Habbakuk talks about an enemy that would come in and hold his countrymen captive. This enemy would kill their crops and animals and destroy the fruit-bearing trees in their land. Like a storm in the distance, Habbakuk saw devastation was coming and he couldn’t stop it. What was he going to do? Here is his decision written in Habbakuk 3:17-19:
Even though the fig trees have no blossoms,
and there are no grapes on the vines;
even though the olive crop fails,
and the fields lie empty and barren;
even though the flocks die in the fields,
and the cattle barns are empty,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord!
I will be joyful in the God of my salvation!
The Sovereign Lord is my strength!
He makes me as surefooted as a deer,
able to tread upon the heights.
Here’s what one author said about this passage of scripture: “Habbakuk found peace in knowing that the presence of God is the bounty found in scarcity. God’s presence makes all the difference. He therefore had resolved to be joyful, not superficially with his eyes closed to the problems and injustices, but by looking difficult circumstances and hard truth in the face and then accepting that in it all God would fulfill His good purposes.”*
Here’s a tough question: Are you able to say “…yet, I will rejoice in the Lord” even though you face uncertain times today?
Yes, those words are difficult to say when there is not end in sight to your problems or your suffering. Those words are tough when we see your loved ones around you suffering.
I wanted to share Habakkuk’s words with those of you who are in that “free-fall” space that I talked about this weekend – that place where you have no control, yet there is no outcome. I’ve heard from those of you who’ve suffered from lifelong illnesses, children who’ve been on drugs for years as well as wives or husbands who’ve prayed and prayed for their spouses to come to faith in Christ. I can’t imagine how difficult life is for you, but I know that God’s promises are true for you, too. God cannot lie and He won’t go back on His promise to help.
My friends, we’ve got to remember that God’s goodness, love and power can help us endure through any circumstance! Don’t underestimate God’s ability to help once you give over control of the uncontrollable and trust Him instead. Here’s a great way to sum up today’s post with some great wisdom:
“As you walk through the valley of the unknown, you will find the footprints of Jesus both in front of and beside you.” Charles Stanley
One more thing… If you enjoyed the “Trust Fall” illustrations, here’s another great video about trusting Christ from the Skit Guys. Let me know what you think about this and today’s blog post. Feel free to share your story in the comments or on my Facebook page!
* –http://www.sermoncentral.com/sermons/the-peace-of-faith-dennis-davidson-sermon-on-faith-134359.asp
by Barb Roose | Feb 22, 2014 | Uncategorized
This is what my life feels like sometimes…
It took me two hours to get home on Wednesday afternoon. Two. Hours.
For my friends in big cities, I know that two hours doesn’t mean much to you. However, for the rest of us in mom-and-pop cities, we’re not built for that kind of windshield time. You big city folks got the patience, cool sports teams and great night life to put up with that kind of drama on the highway.
I do not.
I needed to pick up the kids at 4:30pm. Naturally, I left the office at 4:25pm to make the 16-minute drive to school. As I merged onto the expressway that carries me halfway to my destination, I could see the traffic back-up almost immediately. And I heard a voice that always comes out whenever I see a traffic back-up:
“Barb, it’s time to ‘call the ball.'”
Don’t let the picture distract you. Keep reading. But, it is a nice picture, right?
Remember Tom Cruise’s character in Top Gun? He had to “call the ball” when bringing his plane in for landing on the aircraft carrier. The phrase meant that he acknowledged the path and committed to it. So, when I saw the traffic backing up in front of me, I had two choices. It was time for me to “call the ball.”
There was an exit about 1/4 of a mile away. I did a quick calculation. If I exit now, then I can detour down and around in less time than crawling through this mess at -2mph.
I called it wrong.
When I exited the expressway, the new path carried an entirely new set of challenges. I totally forgot that thousands of other cars already exited the expressway parking lot creating a new parking lot along my new path. Not only that, but the road conditions on the alternative route were even worse! I saw some potholes that really should be considered sinkholes…
As I snaked through my new route, I had lots of time to evaluate my failed strategy. Lots o’ time. And, I saw many new things. Let me just say this: Some of y’all doing some weird stuff in your cars when you think no one is looking. You should stop, okay?
About an hour into my trip, I was furious. Okay, I was more than furious, but since I’m a pastor I can’t say what I was because then you’ll be like “Ooohhh, did you see what Barb said?” and then Kyle would Facebook the link to my blog so more people could see it and then — wait. Hey, this could work…
Why was I so angry? It was just a traffic back-up. Yet, I gripped that wheel and fumed.
I ended someplace I didn’t want to be.
I tried to fix it.
But, things weren’t working out as I’d planned.
No matter how hard I tried, I was stuck in a situation that I tried to get around it, but it didn’t work. I still had to go through it anyways.
A metaphor about life these days…
Enough about me, what about you?
What hasn’t been working out as planned for you lately? What have you been trying to get through, get around or get over?
A relationship that goes two steps forward and 200 back…
A job that you’ve been working hard at but not getting anywhere…
Kids – both big and small – that can’t or won’t straighten up and fly right…
Dealing with bills, bills, bills and you can’t ever seem to get ahead…
Maybe even trying to figure out what you believe about God, but too many voices telling you what you should believe…
Life Interruptus
This winter seems to be a metaphor for my life. I developed a case of Life Interruptus. You know, that disease that makes you upset, angry, fearful, worried, irritable and grumpy. When you suffer from it, you say things like: “I can’t believe THIS HAPPENED!, “What NOW?” or “I DON’T UNDERSTAND THIS!!! One of the hallmark symptoms of Life Interruptus is the that your thoughts tend to feel like they are in ALL CAPS. Raise your hand if you’ve had Life Interruptus at some point this winter. Mine’s up, too.
What to do, what to do?
After I made the two-hour trip home, picked up the kids and apologized to my dogs for making them wait waaaay too long to go out, I went to bed early. I was drained from the inconvenience and frustration of the afternoon.
After a few days of reflection, I realized I didn’t handle myself well on Wednesday. I needed a reminders about dealing with Life Interruptus:
1. Life ALWAYS interrupts our plans. Promise yourself to stop getting grumpy about Life’s small unexpected changes. School might get canceled, so prepare in advance for it. Tires might blow out, so be ready for it. Lanes and exits will close, so (Barb) leave the house earlier!
Also, embrace interruptions as opportunities. You never know what good can come from an unexpected phone call, unexpected diagnosis or unexpected job loss. Now, the “good” in that situation might not happen until later, but you’ve got to be on the look out for it.
2. It’s usually best to go through things, than try to get around them. If you’ve got some problem or issue in life, stop avoiding it and stop trying to skirt around it. By all means, if you know you’ve got a problem or if people are telling you that you’ve got a problem, snap out of denial! Deal with it! If you’re not handling your finances, health, anger, addiction, perpetual crankiness – get help. You can’t get over what you’re trying to avoid.
3. HOW you get through life’s interruptions is important. How do two people face the same set circumstances and one come out better for it and one come out worse? It’s about attitude. So, here’s the Jesus-part of my story: I believe that in all things, God is in control and He will take care of IT. This doesn’t mean that I’m not going to do my part, it just means that I know that I’m not alone in going THROUGH my stuff. This means that I can get through Life Interruptus without melting down every five minutes because I can find strength and hope in Christ. I’m smart enough to know that too often, Life hands out more than I can handle. So, yes, I lean on Christ. And, I’m much better for it.
My hope and prayer for you today is that if you’ve got a case of Life Interruptus, that you’re sick enough of it to get rid of it. God is in control and He will take care of IT…and you.
by Barb Roose | Dec 24, 2013 | Uncategorized
‘Twas the night before Christmas and I was nine years old,
settled deep in my blankets, shielded from the cold…
All I wanted that year for Christmas was a round, yellow, handheld Pacman game. Handheld games were new and I salivated at the notion I hold my favorite game in the palm of my hand and play it on-demand. It would be a dream come true for a small, quiet brown-skinned girl with a competitive heart, but not enough quarters for the bowling alley video arcade.
On that Christmas Eve, my parents hustled my younger brother, sister and me to bed and warned us to stay put until they came to get us the next morning. “If you come out,” warned my mother, “Santa might see you and throw pepper in your eyes. And, He won’t leave you any toys.” (Anyone else get threatened with the “old pepper in eyes” line?)
As our bedroom door clicked shut for the endless night, I began the task of forcing myself to sleep. After all, I prayed to God for weeks before that He would tell Santa to bring me that PacMan game. My childhood theology dictated that Santa would do anything that God told him to do.
The night dripped along and I was wide awake. I tried to sleep. My parents were having a grand ‘ole time out in our living room. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but grand times were happening right outside our door. Then, there was a knock at our front door and a voice entered proclaiming: “HO-HO-HO! Merrrr-rrry Christmas!” It was Santa!
Oh no! Of all the little kids on the planet, I believed that Santa had just showed up at my house – err, apartment. And we didn’t even have a fireplace! Santa just walked through our front door. I remember thinking it was my fault because I invited Santa to come over a few weeks before at KMart when we where getting our pictures taken with him. I really wanted that game.
Now, Santa was in MY living room. And unfortunately, I was wide awake. Then, I heard a deep, bellowing voice say: “I wonder if those Neal children are asleep?” I kid you not.
Santa’s footsteps were coming down the hallway to my room and I was still awake. My little heart beat so loudly in my chest, I thought Santa could hear it. Not only was I going to get pepper tossed in my eyes, he was going to take my beloved PacMan game and give it to some other kid.
The doorknob started to turn, so I did the only thing I could – I screwed my eyes shut and pretended to be asleep. As the door swished open across the carpet, I could sense the light streaming across my face as Santa stepped in. I willed my body to lay stark still.
Santa’s footsteps crunched across the carpet toward my bunk bed. My 6-year old sister was sound asleep on the bottom and I was faux-asleep on the top. This must have made it easier for Santa to see my not-so-sound-asleep face. I should have won an Emmy Award for that acting job – and I don’t know how Santa kept from laughing.
After a few interminable moments, I heard Santa step away and our door closed again. I nearly cried with relief. I didn’t care that I had a chance to see Santa. I was just thrilled that my eyes weren’t burning from pepper. Hope still abound that I just might have fooled Santa enough to get that handheld game.
A few moments later, I heard Santa and my parents laughing and talking in the living room. Eventually, I fell asleep from exhaustion, but not before I heard the glorious sound of my parents playing a PacMan video game. My Smallbrownbarbie heart soared as I drifted off…
To this day, I still don’t know who was Santa. I could ask my parents and they would tell me, but I really don’t ever want to know. There are some memories that should just be allowed to remain untouched and this is blessedly one of them.
Now it’s your turn to share! What’s your favorite childhood Christmas memory?
by Barb Roose | Dec 14, 2013 | Uncategorized
When I was 13, I sang in the youth choir at my small Baptist church. My grandmother was the pianist and director. There were a dozen or so of us kids aged 10-15 and Grandma taught and fussed at us each week during choir practice until we got the songs prepared just right for Sunday.
One Sunday afternoon, our church was hosting another church for an afternoon program. It was a big deal to host another church from out of town, so we had to be on our best behavior. Grandma wanted our little youth choir to look good and she wanted us to sound good.
Of course, Grandma wanted to look good, too.
Earlier that morning, however, Grandma had an accident with one of her eyebrows. Her eyebrows were always plucked very thin and usually, she would fill them in with a pencil. However, on that particular morning, Grandma couldn’t find her tweezers, but there was a razor handy. I’m not sure how everything went down, but the bottom line was this: Grandma accidently shaved off one of her eyebrows. Then, she shaved off the other because she didn’t want to have only one eyebrow. (No, it’s not logical. Just keep reading…)
My girlfriends and I were in the choir room putting our choir robes over our summer Sunday dresses when Grandma rushed in with a frazzled look on her face.
“Girls, do any of you have a black eyebrow pencil?”
We’re 13 years old. None of us plucked our eyebrows yet. “No.”
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Grandma. She rushed over to the mirror on the sidewall. “I need a black eyebrow pencil, girls. My brows are gone.”
I stepped across the room toward my grandma as she looked in the mirror. Yes, indeedy, Grandma’s brows were gone.
One of my friends spoke up: “Miss Magnolia, I’ve got a navy blue eyeliner. Will that help?”
It was the late 80’s and blue eye shadow and blue eye pencils were all the rage, even for us brown-skinned kids. Looking back at photos, brown and blue weren’t a great color combination. At that moment, Grandma didn’t care. “Quick, give it to me.”
Grandma took that blue eyeliner pencil and drew on a set of new eyebrows. They were navy blue eyebrows, but since Grandma would be wearing a navy blue choir robe, so it seemed that things had worked out. Almost…
An hour later, our little youth choir took the choir stand and we were singing away. It was a really hot afternoon, so we kids were starting to sweat. So, was Grandma. She jammed those fingers over the piano keys like her life depended on it. Every now and then, she would raise one hand while playing in order to emphasize a note we were singing. I remember that day. We sounded great!
As we moved into the second song, we sweat even more. Grandma was sweating so much we would see the perspiration running over her new navy blue eye brows and down her face.
That’s when it happened. As I clapped in time with the music, I looked down in time to see my grandmother raise her hand toward her face. Noooooo!!!!
Yep. Grandma pulled her hand across the top of her forehead wiping away the sweat. And one of those blue eyebrows.
I don’t remember if I kept singing or what. My girlfriends also saw it happen and they started to giggle between breaths while singing. I remember looking at my beloved grandma, who didn’t know that she was pouring her heart out on that piano with only one eyebrow.
Yet, Grandma played on. Her one blue eyebrow raised, then crinkled, when she saw the other kids giggling, but that only made them snicker more.
A few minutes later, I saw more beads of sweat rolling down her face. Then, I saw her other hand go up toward the other side of her face. Oh no! Not again!
Um, yes. Grandma pulled her other hand across the other side of her forehead, wiping away the remaining blue eyebrow. I was horrified. Then, I laughed.
And Grandma got mad. Really mad. When we finished that final song, we exited the choir stand and Grandma ushered us back into the choir room to bless us out for our behavior. At one point, we got her to look in the mirror to see why we were laughing.
Then, it was Grandma’s turn to laugh.
by Barb Roose | Nov 27, 2013 | Uncategorized
GIVING THANKS WHEN I DON’T FEEL LIKE IT
By Rick Warren
Thanksgiving is a difficult holiday for many.
How can you be thankful when your doctor says it’s cancer? How can you feel grateful when the one you love just walked out of your life? Or when you’ve been fired . . . or your dream has collapsed . . . or an economic tsunami has wiped out all you’ve worked for?
This year became the worst year of my life when my youngest son, who’d struggled since childhood with mental illness, took his own life. How am I supposed be thankful this Thanksgiving? When your heart’s been ripped apart, you feel numb, not grateful.
And yet the Bible tells us “Give thanks IN ALL circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” The key is the word “in.” God doesn’t expect me to be thankful FOR all circumstances, but IN all circumstances. There’s a huge difference. The first attitude is masochism. The second shows maturity. We’re not supposed to be thankful for evil or sin, or the innocent suffering caused by these things. But even in heartache and grief and disappointment, there are still good things that I can be thankful for.
I used to think that life was a series of mountain highs and valley lows, but actually we get both at the same time. In our world broken by sin, the good and the bad come together. On the cover of my wife’s book, Choose Joy, is a photo of a railroad track heading into the horizon. Like that photo, our lives are always running on two parallel rails simultaneously. No matter how good things are in my life, there are always problems I must deal with, and no matter how bad things are in my life, there are always blessings I can be grateful for.
So what am I thankful for this Thanksgiving?
I’m thankful that, although not everything that happens is good, God is a good God. Having had a close friendship with him for nearly 50 years, I know without a doubt that God sees all I go through, he cares, he grieves with me, he is close, and his strength is available at all times.
I’m thankful that, even though I don’t have all the answers, God does. In tragedy we seek explanations, but explanations never comfort. It is God’s presence that eases our pain.
I’m thankful that this life is not all there is. It’s not the end of the story. One day God will right all wrongs, even the odds, and settle all accounts. Justice will be served. Evil will not win.
I’m thankful for the hope of heaven. I won’t have to live with pain forever. In heaven, there are no broken relationships, broken minds, broken bodies, broken dreams, or broken promises. The Bible tells us “God will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain.”
I’m thankful for my church family. For 33 years, I’ve had the privilege of loving, serving, and leading the people of Saddleback Church. But in our darkest hour as a family, they gave all that love back in a split-second, the moment Kay and I returned to speak after a 16-week grief sabbatical. We can handle anything with prayers and support like that.
I’m thankful that God can bring good even out of the bad in my life, when I give him the pieces. It’s his specialty. God loves to turn crucifixions into resurrections, and then benefit the whole world. God never wastes a hurt if we give it to him.
Itzhak Pearlman once broke a string at the start of a Lincoln Center recital. Rather than replacing it, he played the entire concert with a broken instrument. At the end he said, “Sometimes it is the artist’s task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left.” That kind of humility honors God. This Thanksgiving, don’t dwell on what’s lost, but on what’s left.
Pastor Rick
by Barb Roose | Nov 9, 2013 | Uncategorized
I must admit, sometimes I am surprised when God answers my prayers.
This is a tough ‘fess up from someone who has been a Christ-follower for pretty much her entire life and works in ministry. I believe that God hears and answers my prayers, but I also know that God’s answers to my prayers can vary. Like you, I’ve prayed and God honored my request for a particular outcome or blessing. And we’ve all prayed and experienced the moment when we realized that God’s answer to our heart-felt cryout for rescue or healing was a divine “no” or a frustrating “just wait.”
Yet, there are times when God answers a prayer and I am straight-up blown away.
Like this morning.
I’m working on a chapter that is central to why I am writing this book. This difficult chapter is an exploration of God’s beautiful nature. My challenge is to collapse the qualities of an infinite God into 2,675 words or less. So, after a week of reading, thinking, processing, I’ve written a total of three words. Only 2,672 more to go. (sigh)
During my team meeting last Monday, I mentioned this struggle. My co-worker, Jim, mentioned something off-handedly and that random comment reminded me of a free Kindle download I acquired a couple of years ago, but never read.
I started reading the book yesterday. Things were starting to come together in my mind, but not on paper. (Which is a problem since publishers tend to like it when things are written down…)
This morning, I hopped in the car to spend the morning writing at Panera. My daughter, Samantha, had a gift card so I bought her with me to supply the free coffee. I also took time to pray. Here is a portion of that prayer: “God, I absolutely can’t do this by myself. I need Your help.”
I gripped my cinnamon cream-laced cup of coffee and began reading the book again. My brain began to organize the arms and legs of my research and things started to gel. After an hour, I tapped the screen to advance from chapter seven to chapter eight and my breath caught.
On the page, the author unfolded a framework that began to untie the knots in my cerebral struggle. My eyes welled with tears and Samantha looked at me with alarm. She pulled out her earbuds and asked if I was okay.
“Yes. God just answered my prayer.”
Aren’t you more valuable to him?
We forget how often God answers our prayers, don’t we? We forget because we tend to focus on the prayers that God hasn’t answered, not the ones that He has.
God is a detailed God. Nothing escapes His eye – even when I think He is not paying attention. Sometimes we ask, “Does God even care about me?” We know He does, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it.
“Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your Heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are?” (Matthew 6:26)
Yet, the best part of this morning wasn’t just my answered prayer, but the reminder of just how valuable I am in God’s eyes. He sees me and He hears me. Sometimes, I forget that. Sometimes, the cacophony of my life obscures the fact that as His child, I am never far from His heart. And neither are you.
I don’t know what you’ve been praying about lately. Maybe, you’ve stopped talking to God because in your experience prayer hasn’t made a difference or you haven’t liked the answers you’ve received.
Don’t stop praying.
Prayer gives you and I an opportunity to invite God into our struggle with being human. When we connect to an Almighty God, He infuses us with His perspective and in turn, that brings us hope.
At times, God surprises us with lavish “yes” to our request. Like today. But, getting what we want from God should never be the goal of prayer. We get God when we pray. We get His truth, His strength and His wisdom. And that is always enough to gird us and guide us through life’s challenges.
Has God blown you away by an answer to prayer? How has prayer strengthened you to handle challenges? Share what you’ve experienced either in the comments or on my Facebook page. Trust me, your words will encourage someone else today.
Okay, I’ve got to wrap this baby up because this book’s not going to write itself. Only 2,672 words to go for today!
by Barb Roose | Oct 29, 2013 | Uncategorized
Luke and Sara’s infant son, Jackson in 2009 at St. V’s Hospital
This weekend, I had a chance to talk about peace as the pathway to surrender. One of the stories I shared was about two CedarCreek.tv staff members, Luke and Sara Shortridge. In August 2009, their infant son, Jackson, was suffering from a rare pancreatic disorder that caused poisonous enzymes to leak into his body. Luke and Sara spent many months in the hospital with Jackson and even endured a child abuse investigation (they were cleared once tests revealed the defect.)
Yesterday, Sara sent me a note about this weekend’s message. It blessed me so much that I asked if I could share it with all of you, especially for those who are struggling with circumstances that are out of your control…
Sara holding a miserable baby Jackson close to her heart.
Hi Barb!
I’m humbled that once again our story could be used to reach more hearts for Christ. Yet, every point you mentioned was something I had to struggle through, or accept as truth through the Jackson saga. I can’t tell you how many times I felt like I was in a “fake it till I make it” stage. I would leave the hospital, where I had countless conversations with God basically me saying “If one more bad thing happens, I don’t think I can believe in you”…and then I’d head into church to teach elementary kids about how much God loves them!
Thanks, too, for sharing that it’s ok to keep on doing “normal” life things. I remember when it was still in the thick of things, and the women at Shamas in Perrysburg donated their talents so I could have a spa day. Hair, makeup, massage, the whole deal. I felt so guilty…like it was so wrong to be pampered while my son was still suffering. But, Luke (and others) reminded me that it’s ok to take care of myself. I think that’s such a valuable thing for people to hear.
I remember clinging to the truth of Scripture…and the saving knowledge that this life is not the end of the story. That the struggle we were facing was only a blink of the eye in light of eternity. It gave me much hope to remember that God had so much waiting for us. I really like the analogy you used with Eric Ward’s pictures. Being a visual learner, that really helped me to understand God’s perspective even more.
Luke and Sara with their children, Jackson, Asa and Atalaya
A practice I started during the Jackson journey was to listen to worship music, even when it was the LAST thing I FELT like doing. I can remember leaving the hospital, just to take a break from the madness, and being in such a crappy place emotionally and spiritually. I’d turn on KLove and hear lyrics like “You give and take away” and “Our God is Healer, Awesome in Power”. And I’d force myself to sing along. Boy, God sure does know how to wreck our hearts. But, focusing on God…and who HE is…makes our struggles so much smaller.
Life is so much different now, but every day brings struggles of its own. I will definitely be filing away the notes from your message to pull out when I feel like my struggles are bigger than I can handle…bigger than God can handle.
Thanks again for sharing your heart.
Love, Sara
(If you missed this weekend’s message, CLICK HERE and you can watch.)
by Barb Roose | Oct 18, 2013 | Women's Topics
What is it about a mirror that brings out some (or all) of our insecurities?
I wake up pretty raw in the morning. Getting out of the bed is one of the hardest things that I do all day long, mainly because Night Barb is a creative party animal. In fact, she’s working out this blog post right now. I love her…
Anywho, the first stop each morning includes a trip to the bathroom and ends with a few minutes in front of the bathroom mirror.
Over 525 women (at least I hope its all been women…) around the world participated in my October 2013 “Created with Curves” survey. I was looking for data to include in the book because beauty is a topic that is so subjective. Yet. what I received was so much more than just data. Those survey responses changed my perspective about the power and impact of the topic of beauty.
So many of us think that beauty is a shallow topic, but the memories, scars and wounds run deep under our skin and bleed into our souls. After the survey, many women sent me emails or Facebook messages with their personal stories because they had more to say after filling out the survey. I was humbled by how so many women cared more about a safe place to share their experience over anonymity. Some stories have made me laugh. There were lots of stories that I could totally related! Other times, I had to get up and walk way from the computer because the stories were just too much.
Here’s one of those stories:
I struggled with insecurity for much of my childhood and adolescent years. “Duck Face” was a constant phrase used to define me throughout elementary. Relationships were hard for me to form, not only for my never-ending awkward stage, but also my love for Jesus and telling every single person I could about Him. I entered junior high and decided that I didn’t want to be different anymore, so I followed the grunge trend – like wearing black lipstick and my dad’s old clothes.
In high school I consumed a daily regimen of Pepto-Bismal and club crackers to maintain my anorexic, size 0 frame. Craziest effort I ever made, not only to lose weight, but most importantly to feel like I had some sort of control over myself, both on the outside and inside, too.
Despite my relentless search to discover myself, God chose to use my screw ups for Hos glory…He led me to start a support group for those struggling w ith eating disorders at Bible school that is still impacting lives to this day…He turned my ashes into beauty unlike anything I could have ever imagined.
For all of her struggles, the need of her story inspires me!
As a Christian woman, I know that God sees me as special and beautiful, but that reality doesn’t always translate when I look in the mirror. Here’s some Friday truth, ladies: We are too hard on ourselves. You don’t need to read a book or take a $300 survey to recognize that fact.
The results of the survey are printed in chapter 4, titled “Flaw Finding.” Not only do we share the data from the survey, but readers also have the opportunity to do their own assessment.
More initial data insights…Okay, we seem to mostly love our eyes. No controversy there. Personally, I have issues with my feet. Which is crazy ironic since most people think I am obsessed with shoes. Which I am totally not – kinda. But, I have ugly feet. And I wear a size 11. (Obviously, I will be the first person to buy this book when I’m done writing it because clearly, I have some issues myself.)
by Barb Roose | Sep 23, 2013 | Reflections
Hello friends, There are a few words that describe the second half of my trip to Honduras: shock, awe, guns and beauty. It was an extraordinary Honduran Barbie adventure. I’ll explain…
Shock…
Last Sunday, I truly almost peed my pants when my friend, Karen and I were seated in the grandstand section of San Pedro Sula soccer stadium for the city’s televised Independence Day celebration. There we were -Americans and sitting in the Honduran VIP section. And might I add, we were dressed less-than-fabulously for the occasion…
Our hostess, Flor, picked us up at the airport earlier that morning. One of her friends was the Independence Day event organizer, hence our fancy seats. The celebration extravaganza featured dozens of public and private high school students playing musical performances, dancing and costume displays.
Here is the view from the a grandstand section of the parade. Karen was brave enough to take photos…I was not.
While Karen and I were shocked at our seating accommodations, we were more stunned by those sharing our space. To our immediate left were two high-ranking Honduran Military brass with lots of stars and stripes down their sleeves. Flanking the men and us were uniform soldiers hefting M4 rifles – I’m sure they were present for the higher-ups and not us gringos. Politeness – okay, fear – kept me from counting how many armed soldiers were in the grandstand section with us, but there were enough gun-toting soldiers to set my suburban heart a-flutter.
Karen and I were loved seeing all of the traditional costumes that depicted the story of Honduras’ 192-year history.
We watched the parade in near 100 degree heat for about four hours. Flor let me borrow her fan because I was glistening in the most unlady-like of ways. As I was fanning myself and Flor’s darling five-year old, I noticed that one of the guards kept moving closer to us, until he was standing close enough to feel the effects of the fan. So, I discreetly fanned the dude with the big gun. Never know when one might need a friend with a gun, right?
At one point, there was a huge rifle blast that went off while we were standing. Karen yelled and I fell back into my seat. #embarassing
During the parade, we saw remarkable performances from dozens of schools. The costumes were beautiful and the students were tremendously talented. Like the States, important events are always punctuated by a few intense moments – like a fight that broke out on the opposite side of the stadium. As we watched people running from the center of the action, Karen and I clasped hands in case we needed to make a run for it. But, police apprehended the guilty parties and the crowd cheered. We also were fascinated by a guy who might have been angling for YouTube stardom – he was dancing by himself in the middle of the bleachers and gathered quite a crowd around him. He managed to captivate the stadium’s attention for about 15 minutes while he danced his heart out for us and the television audience.
We were at the parade to see the students from Flor’s church be in the last group to take the field. It was cool to see those students a boldly stand up for their faith in a venue where they would have been threatened, harassed or even beaten – yet, they stood proud and delivered a creative, impactful presentation to the audience.
Awe…
Karen and I were exhausted after leaving the parade. We had been up since 4:30am and so our long morning, plus no food and thick heat made for tired gringos. Flor dropped us off at the home we were staying with a hug and some Wendy’s.
About the house…this was the nicest home I had ever stayed in. Once we were behind an exquisitely-designed gate, the front door opened and our jaws dropped. Just gorgeous. The homeowners are brilliant business owners and members of the SPS church? We were so grateful that they graciously opened their home for our stay in SPS.
Here is the first floor entry of the home we stayed in while visiting San Pedro Sula. The only thing more impressive than the home, was the hospitality shown to us while we were there.
Not only did our surroundings infuse us with awe, but so did the hospitality of our hostess and everyone we met from the church. At home, we pride ourselves on how well we serve others, but waves of humility washed over Karen and I as our hosts treated us like honored guests – it was truly a blessing.
Guns…
Yeah, there lots of guns. I should be used to guns. Shoot, I live in an urban area so I hear gun shots from time to time. But, on this trip, I really struggled to get used to seeing the over-abundance and omnipresence of guns. Hear me on this: I didn’t disagree with their presence. I knew that the good guys I was with had to be armed because the bad guys, with selfish purposes would also have guns. And if I was going to be unarmed, I wanted to be with the good guys with guns.
The kidnapping of husbands and sons is a real threat in Honduras, so affluent families must have protection. Imagine working hard, doing well in life and then, knowing that unless you have protection that someone will kidnap you or your son for ransom? How would your life change? How would you protect your family? This is the reality for many Hondurans.
In the States – at least in my corner of the world – we don’t have to think about life in the context of what our friends in Honduras must deal with. We might have angry debates about gun safety and law enforcement funding, but we have an infrastructure where our police officers and federal authorities are keeping the streets safe enough to keep the majority of regular citizens from taking up arms. Do I always think this will change one day? Yes. Unfortunately, our individual selfishness is quickly outpacing the now-unpopular moral fibers that our country was built upon.
While I managed my fear of constantly being around guns (our SPS home had numerous armed guards), I thought about our SPS friends and how they lived in spite of the ever present threat of violence. They boldly lived and thrived in spite of the threat.
In the States, we always act surprised when outbursts of violence penetrate our safety bubble, as if a quiet town or a suburban address insulates us against another’s selfish outburst of hate or destruction. Yet, SPS residents are proud of their city. They acknowledge their country’s economic and political weaknesses, but they never lose sight of the heart of the people and the physical landscape.
Beauty…
There were so much beauty observed during my trip to SPS. The hearts of the people and the love shown to us, but the beauty of the mountains surrounding the large city – just breathtaking.
Karen and I were inspired by the beauty of the home of our new friends. They allowed us to take pictures – I now know what my new kitchen will look like – ha! While I worked on my tasks for the conference, I enjoyed the glorious artwork and the new and vintage decor that surrounded me and fed my creativity. Yum!
We experienced the beauty that comes from establishing relationships with new friends in SPS – those experiences were rich and fulfilling. I am always amazed at how God blesses me when I say ‘yes’ to life off the beaten path.
On of my favorite places in Honduras at the Palma Real Hotel in La Ceiba.
So, this was a long post, but if you are still with me, thanks for coming along for the ride. I wish you could have come along and experienced the hundreds of other ways I was blessed during this trip for yourself.
Now, it’s Monday morning. I’ve got to wrap this up and head into the office after two weeks away. Hard to believe that life will go back to ‘normal’…at least until the next adventure!
by Barb Roose | Sep 13, 2013 | Reflections
Today, I got to see two lives changed right before my eyes. Steve is the gringo (aka young white guy) in the photo.
Young Manuel shaking hands and thanking Tim (left) and Steve (right). Our missions team host, Vilma, is also in the photo.
He’s a young buck who decided in February to go on a missions trip. All he knew was that he wanted to come to Honduras and help people. but, once he met the people he came to help, Steve’s view of the world was radically changed.
For three days, Steve and his construction partner, Tim (a missions veteran) sawed, sanded and built bunkbeds in a workshop in the heat and stifling humidity. This afternoon, some of our team went along as Steve and Tim delivered the beds.
Meet Manuel. He is in the seventh grade and lives with his mother. His dad took off for the United States years ago and hasn’t been heard from since. Manuel’s home is adjoined to his aunt’s home. Both women was single mothers trying to raise their children in conditions that we cannot imagine – and probably could not endure.
After the bed was placed, Manuel, his aunt and our team stood around the front steps for the dedication. The CDI director, Heather, and our missions team host, Vilma, explained to Manuel that our team raised the money for the beds. They also explained that Steve and Tim were responsible for building the beds. Our eyes welled as Manuel made his way over to Steve to give him a big hug. Then, young Manuel made his way around our group hugging us and thanking us for raising the money for his bed. It was an epic humbling moment. In fact, we didn’t feel we deserved to be thanked. Afterall, it was just a bunk bed, right? Why should this young man thank us for something we gringos take for granted?
Except this young man didn’t have a bed of his own before today. And his gratitude gently reminded us that the smallest gestures of kindness can have tremendous, life-changing impact.
Here are the bunkbeds that Steve and Tim built.
The expression on Steve’s face touched my heart as he looked into the face of the young man who would no longer need to share a sleeping space with two, three or more family members. Steve was working hard to be a dude about the emotional situation, but some moments are just too big not to let a man-tear drop. Manuel now had a bed because Steve showed up and built it. Two lives were changed and if our prayers are answered, both of these young men’s lives will never be the same.
Our next stop was to Claudia and Evelyn’s home. I’ve met Claudia on my first trip to Honduras. She’s a bright, kind, young girl, now in the seventh grade. By the time kids finish elementary school, continuing to high school is an expensive pursuit – especially for families that make less than $300 a month. High school isn’t free. And over 80% of the kids at the center are from families that make waaayyyy less than $300 a month.
Yet, Claudia has a monthly sponsor to help cover the cost of her high school tuition and supplies. Other girls in her neighborhood don’t get such a chance. Semi-educated girls have woefully few opportunities and most end up pregnant before 18 years old.
Vilma is telling us about Claudia and Evelyn during our visit to deliver their bunkbeds. Claudia was stunned when she realized how high in the air her top bunk was.
I have hope for Claudia. I pray that she keeps coming to the center so she can keep her sponsor. I hope that one day, she will come back to her neighborhood and tell a different storyline to the young girls – that they can have hope – and that God (not the government) will send someone to help them along the way.
After driving around a large neighborhood called “Buffalo,” we drove up a big hill. Heather pointed out that a political party paved one lane of just about 100ft of rocky hill road and bragged to the community about capital improvements. IMO, I think they should have paved the other lane before tooting their own horn…
Anywho…our final home visit was to Adrianna and Dunia’s home. Their mother, Carmen, had just moved into this home on the hill after leaving a physically abusive marriage. An uneducated, Honduran woman has literally no options in such a situation, but Carmen did have a twin sister. Carmen snuck away for her home with nothing, but her life and her children.
At one point, her husband showed up at her sister while drunk and swinging a machete, but thankfully, he did not get into the home. Vilma shared Carmen’s story. we could see the evidence of Carmen’s battered wife’s syndrome – withdrawn, fearful, depressed, anxious… Yet, the folks at the church invited her to volunteer with the kids at the center. Over the past three months, Carmen has started to speak a little more and Vilma reports that Carmen has even smiled once or twice.
In the US, we have lots of debates about what poverty really looks like. Folks, this is poverty. We might have high unemployment and declining tax revenues, but let’s not confuse that for poverty.
This was the entrance to the neighborhood where our team worked on a new cement block home with a concrete floor for a deserving family.
Yet, while those we visited in pressboard homes with dirt floors may have not had much in the way of material wealth, they possessed an enduring spirit in the face of great challenge. When asked how they are doing, their universal response is a smile and the word ‘bien,’ which means ‘good.’
Could we say the same? Could we wake up in homes with dirt floors made muddy after winter rainstorms and still say we are going good? Could we toil for hours each day in oppressive sun and humidity for a few dollars each day and say we are doing good? Probably not.
Every time I come to Honduras, God teaches me life lessons that I could NEVER learn at home. The language of love is spoken here and through our Honduran friends, we experience tremendous generosity, kindness, hospitality and we witness their unshakeable faith that transcends language barriers and cultural differences. Even though I come to serve, I always leave much richer in heart and spirit than I ever deserve.
The only reason I’m posting this photo is just so that you can see what I am talking about. My apologies to every mother whose pinned this culinary fail, but you can do better than this. Com’on, Mom, resist.
I laughed at the pun. It was funny and I appreciated the chuckle.
