identity

Its been a while since I have posted anything other than pictures and things to do with Camden. And while I love that boy more that anything in this world, he does not define me. 

I have struggled for the past few months with figuring out who I am. I thought and thought and couldn't place my finger on my identity. "Who is Whitney?" I asked myself daily. Was I a teacher? A wife? A mother? A housekeeper? A youth minister's wife? 

Who was I?

And then something happened in our family and my life was turned upside down. (I know I have mentioned this mysterious thing several times and have not explained myself. I promise that one day I will tell you all about it but my feelings aren't healed and I am still praying for forgiveness toward others and until I find that, I have to keep it private-without outside influences.) I was not just upside down but inside out and every which-a-way possible. I had nothing to cling to. I could control nothing. And it was in that moment that I realized that I needed to cling to the Lord. The one who had been holding me waiting on me to realize who I was. I was a child of God. 

I was His daughter. Who cared if I was good at being a mother or a wife in that moment. All I could focus on was being known as His. Because He was the only one who could take care of all my needs. He didn't care if I was good enough at what I did. He didn't care if I made the bed or taught the correct material. He only cared that I was His and He was mine. 

What a feeling it was to know who I was. Who I am. 

Where is your identity found. In whom is it found in?

K.N and M

When I was in college, some friends and I went on a trip to Jackson to see a band by the name of Shane and Shane play. I thought I was just going to hear some good music, worship my Lord, and leave the same. I was wrong. You see, before the intermission, Shane and Shane spoke of an organization by the name of World Vision. World Vision is a sponsorship organization in which they find children from all around the world who don't have the necessary things that they need to have a life of meaning, and they search out sponsors to pay some money each month in order that these kiddos can have:

clean water to drink instead of sharing a trough with donkies.
shoes to protect their feet from rock and thorns.
medicine to help them fight the HIV virus that their mothers passed on after careless affairs with men.
school paid for so maybe, just maybe, they can learn enough to get out of the endless cycle they are in.
the love of Christ shared with them by missionaries.
a new article of clothing at Christmas. Thats right I said a new article. Now some new clothes. Just one.

I didn't even make it through the speech trying to convince my peers in the room to shell out a small amount of money a month before I was a puddle of emotions. I don't handle stories of children without shoes, without water, and without health care very lightly. I knew that I was called to do something.

The concert people (is that the official term) passed out packets that held the faces of the individual children that needed to be sponsored. They asked us to pray over the child in our hands and then pray about sponsoring that child. It didn't take much prayer on my part. I knew what I had to do. I had to make a very small sacrifice each month in order to provide the child staring up at me a better life. And it was the sweetest face in the picture. The child that sat in my hands was 2 years old. His dirty face and clothes begged to be shown some love. There was no denying that ache and heartache was all this baby has known. And I was going to change that.

I ran as fast as I could to the concert people (its official, this is their name) and made my first payment for the sweet child, M. I was a mother. A sponsor mother. But the love that I felt was like none that I had never felt before.

For 3 years now I have written letters, received letters, and gotten pictures of a healthy. happy, growing boy. M is now 5.

When I got married, the Mister brought K.N. with him. He sponsored K.N. sometime ago and loved and wrote him just as I was doing with M. I was so proud to be a step-sponsor mom. Well, more like adopted sponsor mom. I have grown to love K.N. just as much as my own M.

Before we found out about Baby R we were tossing around the idea of sponsoring a little girl. 2 boys and a girl. The perfect sponsorship family. Not that Baby R has changed our heart about the little girl, it hasn't. I still have a longing in my heart of hearts for the girl in Ethopia or Ghana or Swaziland or, well anywhere, that belongs with my family. And I won't stop praying for her wherever, whoever she is, but until the time is right I will pray. And ask.

I will ask you to consider sponsoring a sweet child who is less fortunate than you. Maybe you can sponsor a little girl to make my heart beat easier. I may never touch, see, or hug these children in this lifetime, but by golly I can't wait to see them in heaven. In their own little way they help to complete our family. Invite a child into your home and watch the changes that take place.

Until I can sponsor our little girl, maybe you can sponsor one for me.

Our First Valentine's Day + Memory Verse

This past Monday was our first Valentine's Day together. And I must say that it was wonderful. Though, I have not always been a fan of February 14 throughout the years.

There were the years in which: 

*I was dating a high school lame-o.

*My best girlfriend was my date. Mi Pueblo cheese 

dip and Sonic slushes can cure any heartbreak.

*I spent the day with my parents...the best Valentine's of all.

 They don't buy goobie "I love you" stuff and they get you the 

expensive chocolates. 

* I was miles away from my future husband and cried my way through the horrific day.

But I digress. 

But this year was way different. I have to say that I think that marriage is the best experience ever. (Bear with me single ladies...). I have been falling more and more in love with my man daily. We have ironed out a few wrinkles in our lives and have received several answers to prayers that we have been singing into the Lord's ear. I know that life won't always be dandy, but with this man, I would walk through fire. 

I think I really liked Valentine's Day because for the first time I could be myself. There was no expectation to get all dolled up, go to some fancy restaurant, and buy big fancy gifts. Nope. I wore the same teacher clothes that I wore all day, ate at a local Chinese restaurant, and traded Dinner for Schmucks for a Victoria's Secret gift card. And I fell more in love. Is that even possible? I keep asking myself. 

And as we enjoyed our first Valentine's Day as a married couple, I meditated on my past memory verse. 

Love is patient. Love is kind. 

It is not jealous, boastful, proud, or rude. 

It does not demand it's own way and it keeps no record of wrong doing. 

It does not rejoice about injustice, but rejoiced whenever the truth wins out. 

Love never gives up, never loses faith, 

is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. 

1 Corinthians 13: 4-7

Love is so many good things. My prayer through my marriage is that others will come to know the Lord just from seeing mine and N's love for each other. 

People, I am just crazy about that man! 

But the better end of the deal is that two men are crazy about me. The man who helps me put meaning to that verse, and the Man who wrote that verse into existence. 

Could I be any more blessed? Be still my beating heart! 

Verse 2

Its time for verse #2 people! I am reaping only good by memorizing scripture (and all the Lord's people say, of cousre) and its just number 2 for this year. I am anxious to see what the year will bring, and how the Lord will remind me of His word. On to my new verse (while the other is tucked away safely in my heart, not to be forgotten).

Psalm 46: 10 (NLT) says:

Be still and know that I am God. 

I will be honored by every nation.

I will be honored throughout the world. 

I pray that this radiates through me daily. So many times I just need to sit back and just know. Know that He is God. Everything is pointless without that realization. 

Tonight, Be still. Because He is God. 

Hello 2011...

So I have so many posts to write in the "Our First Christmas" series, but for right now I wanted to share with you this wonderful opportunity of scripture memorization, accountability, and spiritual growth. Over at Beth Moore's blog, she does a bi-monthly scripture memorization. I have never before participated in it, although I have sat passively by and watched her host this many times before. I have finally grown sick of my apathy and decided that I am going to kick my sorry self in the rear and do something to impress the Lord. After searching and not finding the verse I wanted to memorize, I asked the hubs (who just returned from a youth retreat with a 101 degree temp) his favorite verse and he gave me this one:

"For it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith-and this is not from yourselves, it is a gift from God-not by works so that one can boast. For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." Ephesians 2: 8-10

This verse should be the basis of all things Christian. Faith, grace, gift, handiwork...I mean I could sop this up with a biscuit and eat it right up, y'all. Yeow. It makes me want to squeal with excitement and joy that my Savior chose me to receive this gift-that I am his handiwork. He made me exactly the way that he wanted me. I am perfect. To Him at least. And he is the only one that matters. Amen? Amen.

So I invite you to join in on this awesome opportunity. If we (I mean me) continue to make excuses to not memorize scripture then we will never have sword of the spirit that we are told about.

Nudge. Prodding. Whisper.

I have been thinking a lot lately about helping others. Not just anybody (although I do feel that I am called to be help anyone who needs help) but homeless anybodies. Living in the land of blues and the home of rock and roll, I learned that I was going to have to get used to seeing people wandering the streets on a regular basis. It broke my heart the first time that I consciously saw it. I grew up not far from where we live now, and I have been to the homeless mission and served before but I wasn't convicted about my duty to the solution then.

Recently, I can't get that out of my mind. That being the solution. Including my role in that solution. And everytime me and N have been out and see a person with tattered clothes and holey pants, I wait. I wait to see if the Lord is going to nudge me. Prodd me. Whisper to me to do something about it. But is that how it has to be? Should I really have to be nudged by the Holy Spirit everytime I see someone in need? Am I wrong in waiting to see if I will feel that prodding in my heart? Waiting to feel my heart beat faster? Waiting to see conviction written in bold?

Lets take last night for example.

Me and N were leaving a NBA game and immediatly as we exited the door, there was a short man with a white styrofoam cup in his hand. Thats what I saw first. Then I saw him pushed and knocked side to side by passers-by while he held out a steady hand to collect whatever money he could. We were in that group. We continued walking. But I couldn't not say something to N. I told him how bad I felt for the guy and how I wish we could have atleast bought him supper. He asked if I wanted to go back. Yes. Yes, I did. So we went.

100 yds. later we found him.

Me: (Taps homeless man on the shoulder) "Hi, Are you hungry?"
Man: "I am just trying to get enough money to go to the mission."
Me: "Do you want to eat?" (Nodding in the directions of resturaunts)
N: "We want to buy you supper." (Moves his arm to offer a gentle nudge towards food)
Man: (seemingly angry) "LISTEN! I just want to get in the mission. Help me get in the mission!"
N: "We don't have any cash but we want to buy you supper. Come with us and eat."
Man: "Can you buy me some ribs?" (Still holding out his cup and insisting that he stay put, on his terms, until he filled his cup with money even more.
Me: "Sure."
Man: "Meet me at the Blues City Cafe. I will be there I promise."

Me and N walked off and headed to the cafe. I was a little preturbed at how forceful the man had been and how unappreciative he had acted towards two people offering to buy him a hot meal. He wanted ribs and he wanted them when he wanted them. I figured that if I were homeless and hungry and somone was offering me a free hot meal on a freezing cold night, I would accept it. But I walked anyways. We got to the resturaunt and waited for a bit. After thinking the same thing, we began to head to the car. We looked for him but never saw him. So we left the city and returned home.

That's where I began thinking this thought. I knew the right thing Christian thing to do would have been to wait for him to show up, forgive him for his snarky remark, and feed him dinner. But I didn't because I rationalized with myself that I didn't feel the Lord telling me to stay. I didn't feel that nudge. I couldn't sense a prodding in my direction. And I didn't hear a whisper. But should I have had to? Am I being the best follower I can be while only acting upon the Lord's gracious leadings? Or should I do it whenever I see a need. Regardless.

I think I know the answer.

Rescue

Today I sat in church and in front of me was this little girl sitting with her 4 member family. It was no time before she did what all little kids do in church when they have sat still long enough...

She mosied on down to the ground and pulled out some toys from her bag. Among the books and crayons she took out, 2 toys were her focus the whole service. A princess doll and a boy doll. It was so sweet. I am intrigued as to how girls as young as she know that boys and girls belong together. But not just that...

She played and played and played and then I tuned in to what she was actually doing- she was making the girl fall off the edge of her chair and then that dashing young plastic man came to her rescue. The little girl would hold the fair maiden in limbo with one hand while she outstretched the guys arms out to be ready to catch his beloved with her other. I was over come with emotions.

I wanted so badly to crawl down on the floor with her and whisper to her this...

Sweet girl...there is a man who loves you as much as this plastic prince charming loves his molded maiden. His name is Jesus and he did the same thing for you as the boy did for the girl on the edge of your chair. You see, we all mess up. You are so young you have lots of mistakes to make, but the glorious thing about it is that man named Jesus covered them. Instead of you falling off of a chair edge time and time again, you sin. And instead of him jumping off to save you in a heroic bound, He did something different. With arms outstretched still, He was nailed to a tree and took all of the bad that you will ever do and swallowed it. So you keep playing with these two dolls. Continue to send that boy after the girl each and every time she falls. But always remember, the same feat has already been performed for you. You are rescued. And you are loved. You are held in outstretched hands. And every time you fall you will be caught.

What a beautiful story. I am so glad that i have a Savior who saves me daily. I rest in the fact that I am loved by the only man with outstretched arms who will never fail. Won't you be a part of this fairy tale love story too?

Milk

This week me and N both got paid so we decided to take ourselves out to eat. We never do anything really special so we went downtown to see if anything hit our fancy.

We were driving into the metropolis and for once in my life I was not applying lip gloss in the visor mirror or changing the station. Nope. My eyes were free to see a man. A homeless man.

Digging. In. A. Garbage. Can.

We happened to be stopped at a red light so I had approximately 2 minutes to jump out of the car and help him. Instead, I just watched. I watched him stick the whole length of his arm into a filthy Memphis garbage can and pull something out. The something was a pint of milk. He looked at it and then he shook it and then he set it down on the rim.

He shuttered before going back in to see what else the garbage can had to offer and then he stopped. He went back to the milk. He grabbed it in his aged, weary hands and proceeded to take the top off.

Next, he smelled the milk.

He made a sour face as would anyone if they smelled milk that had come from a garbage can. I can only image how long it had been there. He capped the milk but he was thirsty. So thirsty that he removed the cap one more time and raised the jug to his lips.

The light turned green and N pulled away. I was on a date with the man who holds my heart but at that moment my heart with on a street corner with a man holding a glass of rotten milk.

I couldn't contain myself and began weeping for the man. Why was he there for me to see? What did God want to teach me from that? What is my duty as a Christian to aid the situation.

After I composed myself and apologized to N 1,000 times for crying over spilt rotten milk, I fell in love with him all over again. He said to me, "Do you want to go find him and invite him to dinner?" The tears returned as I said yes. So the search for the barren man began.

It still haunts to say it, but we did not find him. I kept praying over and over that the Lord would guide my footsteps straight to him. Or him to me. He had my heart and  I wanted it back just wanted to get to know the man who captured it while digging in filthy trash. But no such luck. So me and N continued on with our original plans...to have dinner. With each other. And while it was wonderful to spend time with my own prince charming, I wanted to share the story of a Prince of Peace to another man.

I am not sure why I experienced what we did that evening but I haven't been able to forget about it. I have prayed constantly for the man. I want to know that he didn't drink that milk. I want to know if he has received compassion from another Christian.

If I never understand that particular experience, I do understand the lesson that it taught me.

From today until my very last, I will pounce on every opportunity I am offered to help someone out. No matter what it takes. Especially if it means jumping out of a car door at a red light to offer to replace a jug of spoiled milk with the Gospel of Grace.

There is so much to say...

And I don't even know where to begin.

So I will start with the only thing I do know,
and that is that I have one amazing husband. In a world that is ever changing, he is my one constant.

Where we were, we will call it 'O', some things happened in a church that should never happen. The leadership was wavering and hypocritical. It was hard to see God work in a church when the right people wanted the wrong things.

So me and N began to look for a way out. We forced some things and spent all our energy on wasted desires.

But we knew all along that without God's blessing and will we would get no where.
So we surrendered. We threw our hands up and said, "Ok God. We will stay here. We will do our best to mend the issues here, and we will be joyful about it. I said joyful-not happy."

And thats when it happened. God opened every single door that we were trying to open ourselves. It was amazing to see. He wanted the same things for us that we wanted-He just wanted to be the One to make it happen.

You see, if we had succeeded with OUR plan then we would have failed. We would have given ourselves the credit and somewhere down deep we would have forgotten to rely on Him. But the instant that we gave the reigns back to him, He provided all. Man, we serve a good good God.

So His plan for our lives right now involved moving to a city we will call 'M'. Its in Tennessee and its the home of all things Elvis.

N is still a youth minister but in a totally different venue than we left.

And I, I am a teacher. I teach high schoolers and I teach them math and english. Its a joy.

So that is where we are. We are doing our best to navigate life as newlyweds in an everchanging world. But praise sweet Jesus that He gave me a man that is constant. Never swerving. Focused on His will. And patient and forgiving.

He, N, is the second thing that has kept me happy during all this. And because my sweet savior decided to show us His will for us, He is the first thing.