I have a deep passion and commitment to the ongoing development of spiritually strong and emotionally healthy individuals, marriages, families, leaders and cultures, helping you achieve your God-designed and appointed destiny.
All in Bible truths
This past Thursday we received the long-awaited update regarding Stan’s healing and progress. Prior to the follow-up, I found myself fantasizing about how I would deliver the good news to everyone. I imagined posting a picture of Stan holding up his Life Vest, with the caption, “Thank God Almighty He’s Free at Last!”
Please be assured that this vulnerable confession isn't some pathetic attempt to evoke sympathy. I don't feel sorry for myself in the least, and I would hope you don’t either. This really is a good thing.
Obviously, to say waiting has been a life-long struggle for me, is a grand understatement. It’s as if I’ve placed myself in the position of judge and jury, determining the speed and direction in which everyone or everything around me should move - even God Himself. When non-movement is the perceived response, judgmentalism can ensue, causing me to be frustrated with the world and God alike. Although I am sure there are “groups” for people like me, please tell me I’m not the only one!
“Oh great!” I thought, as I’d never considered intercession to be one of my spiritual gifts. “I’m too ADHD for that, God! You understand, don’t You?!” Up to that point, my prayer life most often consisted of brief moments taken whenever prayer happened to came to mind. Looking back, I believe I had almost taken a stance of apathy, as I convinced myself that I should leave the really serious battle-fighting prayers to those who had been given this gift.
As I’ve watched Stan navigate through feelings of shock, disbelief, fear, ownership, determination and execution in regards to a diagnosis and all that it entails, I’ve been nothing short of amazed at the man God has given me. Stan didn’t want this challenge, nor did he ask for it with bad habits and lack of self-care.
After 25 plus years of consistently reading God’s Word, it never ceases to amaze me how you can read a particular scripture countless times, only to have it resurface in a new and powerful light, impacting you with a truth that is not only encouraging, but can sometimes shake you to your core, causing you to do some drastic re-evaluation. Such an occurrence reinforces the truth that His Word is living and active, never diminishing, and ever empowering
I’ve heard it said, by Dr. Henry Cloud, no less, that there are three types of individuals - Wise, Foolish, and Evil. In pondering this concept, I’ve come to a few conclusions.
Recently I was a bit taken back when I came across Proverbs 27:8: “Like a bird that wanders from its nest, is a man who wanders from his place,” prompting the question…What is my place, Lord? What is my place when the terrain which normally seems so predictable, yet productive, looks completely different, causing me to scratch my head in bewilderment?
But with this new information, I realized that once again we have a choice to make. Are we going to continue pressing into God, asking Him what we can learn from this challenge, or now that we have a possible culprit, are we going to allow ourselves to be distracted by focusing our energy and focus on blame?
This past week, I’ve had moments of temptation in which I’ve wanted to abandon our plan of “leaning into the pain” and discovering the lessons, growth and deeper relationship that Christ has for us. There has been a time or two when I’ve want to take a very, very long nap (maybe lasting a couple days?) in an effort to escape the challenges.
As of late, whether it be on paper, computer, or spoken, I’ve had difficulty with finding the proper words. Articulate expression of my feelings and thoughts are lacking, especially when it comes to my conversations with God. My brain has seemingly ceased producing my ability to communicate. At times, I’m at a complete loss.
When remembering pivotal moments in our lives, some are grand and earth-shaking, while others are subtle and sweet. When I think of the latter, I remember a time in my early 20's when I ventured out with my newborn son, Adam, to see MaMaw. Verna Thomas Little, my grandmother, was one of my heroes.
In addition to being a genius, Thomas Edison (most famously known as the inventor of the light bulb), was often described as an extreme optimist.
A few years back, my then 24 year old son, Adam, called to tell me about his day, which was a pretty common occurrence. His opening statement, however, was a bit uncommon. He said, “I have a story to tell you, then I need to apologize for something.”
“Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, He is the one who goes with you. He will not leave your nor forsake you. Deut. 31:6
Stan and I recently found ourselves deep discussion regarding faith and healing. Although both possessing faith, we each divulged we felt a lack as well, somewhat resembling the father of the sick boy, when he transparently admitted to Jesus, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24).
Last night both our boys called at the same time. One spoke to Stan, the other to me. Both called to tell us what was going on in their lives. Both needed to talk a few things through. In the end, both sought advice. It was nothing short of a miracle. God has brought all four of us so far over these past 10 years…leading us through what I call the Great Parental Menopause – that transition of two adults parenting two children, to two adults who happen to be the parents of two adults.
Of recent days, we've witnessed society fueled by those who display the greatest passion with the loudest voice to a greater degree than ever before. Those who storm the gates with the most powerful force appear to receive the highest level of attention and response. We’ve seen it in both the political arena, as well as world events. It seems these individuals are both admired and revered as they desperately seek to command the greatest level of attention. Whether they are brilliant, or as dumb as a doornail, we give them our attention…at least for a little while.
I killed a snake yesterday. I really did. And it felt great! No one was more shocked than me. Just a month ago, it would have been impossible for me to muster the courage to do such a thing. But yesterday…I mustered. I felt empowered! I was courageous! I was strong and fierce! “Don’t mess with me!” I boldly declared. I certainly unleashed my inner Redneck on him.
You know when you hear a word for a phrase, over and over? It seems you can’t escape it’s invasion into your space. Author Margaret Feinberg describes this as a “Sacred Echo,” when God is trying to get your attention or get a point across. This very thing happened to me this past week. The word I kept hearing? “Forgiveness.” First, I saw it in a letter someone had written. Then I heard someone say it out loud. Then I heard an analogy about forgiveness. Finally, I clearly heard God’s voice…”Cammie, you haven’t really forgiven ________.” Awesome. Just awesome. I thought this account had been cleared.
