When God’s Love is Fierce {Fierce Friday}

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There isn’t a doubt in my mind that many of you can identify with Crystal’s story, and you suffer in hurt alone. Crystal bravely and vulnerably shares how the fierce love of God was more than she ever thought it could be. Lean in, friends!

God’s love is fierce, and sometimes we’re not fully aware of how fierce it is for us until we look back and see all that it saved us from…especially ourselves.

Brutal memories stuffed for the sake of survival began to surface throughout all three of my pregnancies, but most intensely with my last child, my only girl. With the memories of trauma and abuse came great fear. Fear that I didn’t have what it took to raise one child let alone three.  Fear that I would never be able to escape my past.

And most importantly, fear that I would repeat the same destructive cycle with my own children.

Growing up the only girl with 4 brothers, life for me was anything but that of a princess. Being raised by a violent, abusive mother and a passive, “don’t rock the boat” father left me wounded both inside and out.  And living with the truth that the abuse was reserved for me alone screamed that I was unloved, unworthy and most certainly unwanted. Most days I answered to the title of “girl” so any sense of a healthy identity alluded me for years, even well into my adult life.

By the time I found myself a pastor’s wife and pregnant with surprise number 3, I was already experiencing battles with shame, anger and an overwhelming sense of self-imposed perfection.  The combination of fear and insecurity left me spiraling at the slightest failure. The mess inside was beginning to seep outside.

But God’s intervention seems to always arrive just in time.

God's intervention in our lives always happen just in time! #fierceFriday #fiercelyHis Click To Tweet

A few months after my daughter was born He caught my attention long enough to show me that he had a plan to free me and show me a different way to love and live.  But before He could free me, He had to plant the depths of his love into the depths of my broken and tattered heart.

In order to do this, He began calling me to trust in a way I had never trusted anyone before.  He showed me that simply remembering the pain and misery wasn’t enough.  I needed to invite Him in to do surgery.  To open up and expose the wounds and surgically remove the dead scar tissue which was clogging my filter and hindering me from embracing the very love that I so desperately needed. Before I could ever hope to pass it on to and through my children.

It meant letting God show me all the ways I saw Him as a relentless, unpleasable tyrant who was quick to punish and unwilling to love me, protect me or fight for me. It meant identifying all the lies born out of each and every difficult act of abuse and trusting enough let Him extract them, one by one and replace them with truth.

The journey was long and grueling at times.

Most days I thought the remembering alone would break me. But throughout the process, God made it clear that He was the process.

It wasn’t about me; it was all about Him.  I simply had to yield to the One who never intended to leave me in my broken and exposed state.  With the skill of a master surgeon, he placed a group of counselors in my life who weren’t surprised or overwhelmed by my pain and a group of prayer warriors from all over the world who prayed for me throughout my soul surgery.

Knowing what my heart needed, He began to show me the times He was there before I ever knew who He was.

God is with us even when we don't know who He is! #fierceFriday #fiercelyHis Click To Tweet

I emerged from that surgery with a new heart and vibrant, fresh truth circulating through my veins. An accepting and unwavering love emanated from my soul and washed over me. For the first time, the knowledge that I was deeply loved and fiercely His spanned the 18” gap between my head and my heart. And the path became clearly visible for how to parent my children from a place of grace, hope and unconditional love instead of from a place of fear and insecurity.

It didn’t happen overnight, and it didn’t happen without a few more follow-up procedures, but it happened.

Today, I’m so profoundly blessed to be the mother of 3 fiercely loved adult children; a son who is a History Professor in China, a second son who is a Worship Pastor and a daughter who is soon to graduate as the Biologist of the family.  To be here, now, is a testimony of a love too fierce to fully comprehend. That this love chooses to save even one soul from disaster would be enough, but that God also chooses to heal and restore all that was taken and right what was wrong is simply astounding.

God’s fierce love is the kind of love that breaks every cycle and calls us to forever hope in Him.

Gods fierce love breaks every cycle and calls us to forever hope in Him. #fierceFriday… Click To Tweet

Crystal is a warrior, and she is #fiercelyHis!

Crystal is an advocate of living outside of comfort zones as a means to unlocking hidden potential and experiencing God’s wild and uncontainable love.  She writes on combining a little bit of intention with a lot of passion to create an overwhelming legacy of hope.  She’s also a lover of fresh markets, lattes and all things French.

You can connect with Crystal through her Blog and also on Facebook , Twitter and Pinterest.

 

Hey you! I love hearing from you! Please take a minute to say ‘hi’ and share your thoughts below.

Also, would you do me a favor —if you resonate with this article or it has helped you today— would you share it with someone else? Maybe a friend, coworker, or family member…?

When God is Silent | Fiercely His {Fierce Friday}

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Oh my friends, what a treat I have for you today. The author of today’s post inspires me to no end. I have never met Sarah face to face, yet this woman I love so dearly. As I was putting the finishing touches on her post, tears streamed down my face. It’s my honor to share others’ stories. It’s not my blog, but His; and your’s. This is why I share so many stories here.

At one point I had to stop and just weep and ask God to bless her life and give her favor over her health. She has such a sweetness about her, and I know you’ll be touched by her words. Can I ask something of you? As you read her words will you just pray for her? I feel so strongly about this. Will you visit her blog (link is at the end) and consider supporting her in some way, whether it be following her on social media, subscribing to her blog, or just simply committing to praying for her over the next several days?

When God is silent, He is simply working on our behalf the most.

When God is Silent

“I don’t think God would allow the same thing to happen twice. Why would He allow you to get so seriously sick again when you’ve already endured that testing once?”

That was the response of my husband, then brand new boyfriend when I warned him about my health condition and how serious it had been in the past while we were sitting outside of a coffee shop, tucked away in a private moment away from the bustle inside.

He had that dreamy glow in his turquoise eyes, and I guess I must have as well because I said, “Maybe you’re right.”

He was right and wrong at the same time.

He was wrong because God still did allow me to become seriously ill again, but he was very right in that God didn’t test me the same way twice.

Where Is God in the Silence?

My head involuntarily slumped to my left shoulder as my mom brushed my hair just three days after the assault to my body that landed me in a wheelchair- without my consent.

My husband was at my side as I said the words half-jokingly, half-serious, “Would you still love me if I looked like Stephen Hawking?”

I had never experienced the involuntarily slumped head, drool pooling at my chin or that nagging question within me, “Would he seriously still love me if he was wrong that day and God did allow a serious testing of my health?”

“Sarah, you’re way cuter than Stephen Hawking, no worries.” He said it with a smile curved to his lip as he was trying to place me at ease.

Even though my husband was there during this long stretch, I couldn’t help but feel like God was absent. You remember how I mentioned that my husband was correct in saying that things would never happen the same way twice?

While I was enduring what felt like a splash over of hell in my first trial of a serious illness, I also had such a surge of comfort from God.

But now, God seemed strangely silent except for the briefest interlude of comfort.

When God is silent, He is simply working on our behalf the most.

There Is a Time For Everything, Sometimes Even Silence

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” -Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NIV)

I couldn’t help but think this was all just a  terrible mistake. Every morning I would wake up, trying to jar myself awake from this nightmare. And every morning, I would attempt to thrust myself forward to walk, but my legs would buckle and send my body with a thud to the ground.

I really tried to take the situation in stride at first, but then, the pressing question came, “Where is God and that warm blanket of comfort everyone says you feel from Him when you face a crisis situation?

“Did I do something wrong?”

I tried to tick off the usual reasons for feeling silence from God, unconfessed sin, not seeking after God in Word and in prayer, and then that last one, a season of testing.

But then I remembered Esther, the Jewish beauty of humble origins turned queen who may have faced her own season of silence from God as there is no mention of “God” anywhere in her story. Yet, He was so there, guys! You can see His hand in her story, the way He nudged King Xerxes to take Esther as his bride. The way after Haman intended to enact the first Jewish Holocaust, his plan fell through because of Esther’s providential placement in a story that never uttered God but yet, He was there.

God is nowhere mentioned in Queen Esther's story yet He was there! #fierceFriday Click To Tweet

I knew God was pressing me to still remain faithful to Him when everything around me seemed to be falling apart like my buckling legs.

When God is silent, He is simply working on our behalf the most.Sometimes, I’ll admit, I was afraid to trust God because I was so afraid of the domino effect that was happening in my life, knocking down all of my dreams, my abilities, my finances which shriveled up because long-term serious illness will usually do just that.

But I also had to remember that these things were never mine in the first place.

They were given to me by God Himself. Even in what seemed like silence, I was tracing back the hand of God and the continuous times He had come through for me by using His hands and feet- people, through my husband the caregiver, who was only a shadow of Christ as the ultimate Caregiver, through my medical progress that although has been slow, has nevertheless been present.

God’s hand has been in my story, even in the silence.

God's hand is in our story, even in the silence. #fiercelyHis #fierceFriday Click To Tweet

And I know that even in what seems like random chaos in your own life, He is still present wanting you to still remain fiercely His.

Sarah is a warrior, that’s for sure, and she is #fiercelyHis!

Sarah Chardavoyne drinks too much tea for her own good and loves to read anything from C.S. Lewis to Francine Rivers. She is trying to keep the hope alive in the Author of life in spite of her life’s interruptions. She blogs regularly at Ink Blots of Hope.

 

You can also connect with Sarah on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter

I hope you were blessed by today’s #fierceFriday post as much as I was!  If you resonated with this article or it has helped you today— would you share it with someone else? Maybe a friend, coworker, or family member …?

 

You might also enjoy:

To all the Terrible Mama’s

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Welcome to the terrible Mama club! So, you’re a terrible Mama too, huh?

Yeah, I get you. We were married 6 years before we had our first child, Alex Elizabeth. She came out looking just like her daddy. Uggh. Can I be honest? I was SUPER frustrated that this child looked nothing like me. I carried her for 9 months, 6 of which I threw up half the day. It was kinda nice when our second born Averee Grace looked just like me, and believe me, I totally stuck my tongue out at John that day:-) Thank you Lord.

But that’s not what this is about. I was a terrible Mama, and I just wanted to make all the other terrible Mama’s feel better.

I nursed both my babies past 12 months.

Exclusively. {gasp}

Not that I didn’t try to introduce Alex to baby food at the appropriate age; I did. She just wouldn’t have any of it. Alex is a stubborn one, that girl. She hated veggies and fruits of all kinds. And come to think of it, right after she was born I struggled even getting her to nurse…I remember being laid up in the fetal position in my bed for several days afraid to death that my first-born was going to starve, and the Dr telling me that she would eat eventually, and that she would be fine, (how could she be fine?!?! she wouldn’t eat!!!)and I remember my Mother consoling me telling me that she would be fine. Stubborn much, Alex Elizabeth?

The struggle was real y’all.

By the time she was 2 1/2 Averee Grace had entered the family. Averee was different in that she would eat fruits and veggies. How crazy is that two kids from the same parents can be so different!?

Having two babies under the age of 3 isn’t a walk in the park. I hear you, Mama of 4. I get it. 2 is easy peasy, right? Well, tell that to the young mama of 2 who feels like she’s at her wit’s end. Whether you have 2 kids or 5, being a Mama can be hard. Especially if you take it seriously, which I did, and I bet you do, too.

We’d go to Chick-file and I’d let both my girls run around in the play area barefoot because I forgot to put socks in their bags on the day they wore sandals. YesI was that Mama. 

I never really made either of my girls stick to a regular “chore” schedule. It just wasn’t something that was important for me to teach them, and if I were honest I’d say that I’m a bit obsessive-compulsive. I wanted the house cleaned a certain way, ok? Yeah, huge fault of mine, I get it. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t the Mama who let my girls do whatever they wanted. They had rules and boundaries that they had to stick too. They got spankings. {gasp} Yes people, I spanked my children.

To all the terrible Mama's: you're not so terrible

I just wanted to be a good Mama.

But who doesn’t? I mean, right? I wished and prayed that Alex would eat fruit and vegetables but she just wouldn’t. I remember telling her that she couldn’t get out of her high chair until she ate her veggies; yet what would she do? She’d sit there all day. She’d even fall asleep in her chair. Heck, it was comfortable, why not?

As she grew into a middle schooler nothing changed. We’d sit at the dinner table and Alex rarely liked anything I made. Her Dad would make her sit in her chair until she ate just a couple more bites and 3 hours later she was still sitting there not phased one bit. Eventually, I stopped cooking as much because it was just a battle we chose not to fight.

Alex had me pulling my hair out like a child steals a toy from another. Honestly I look back and think to myself; how in the world did I make it? And while now at almost 19 she’s far from perfect, that stubborn girl today is independent and loyal and kind. She’s a girl who thinks for herself and is the most giving and patient soul I know.

I’ve always picked my battles as a Mama. I’ve always just done my best and done what I could to survive; all the while hoping I didn’t traumatize my two little ones.

Can I just say something? Never EVER judge someone because of the way they raise their children. You have no idea what they go through at home or what they face as a family. 

Here’s what I know. We’ve been given general guidelines by seemingly supposed experts who say what is right and wrong to do as a parent. And while that’s all well and good, each family is different. Each child is different. What may work for one child doesn’t work for another, and I believe it’s a good thing to raise children based on their unique differences.

Motherhood is about picking your battles.

Don’t give up, because here’s a #truthbomb for ya- you will reap a harvest of blessing if you’ll just hang in there!

So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up. Galatians 6:9
Dear Terrible Mama: don't grow weary for doing good, you WILL reap a harvest! #fiercelyHis Click To Tweet Today my girls are almost 19 and 16, and I’ve reaped so many blessings I can’t count them all. I am one proud Mama and I don’t say that lightly. I’ve never really been the type to brag on my girls and today I’m taking the opportunity!

To all the terrible Mama's: You're not so terrible!They are smart, caring and loyal. They will fight for you until the end. They exude honor and respect for others. Both so strong, independent and wise beyond their years.

Both have had a very tough year. Alex has dealt with heartbreak and confusion, and Averee has dealt with change and loss of friends, yet both are coming through it with flying colors. They are two beautiful women who love Jesus and let His light shine through them.

And while they’re certainly not perfect, they’re beautifully flawed in every way imaginable.

So, maybe I’m not so terrible after all? Maybe I was just a Mama who chose her battles. One who took each day as it came, did the best I could, and loved them dearly.

To all the terrible Mama's: #truthbomb>>you're not so terrible. #fiercelyHis Click To Tweet

Guess what?

You’re not a terrible Mama either.

Chin-up buttercup- you got this. You’re doing your best. Do not grow weary for doing good- for you WILL reap a harvest of benefits when the time comes.

I love hearing from you! Please take a minute to say ‘hi’ and share your thoughts below. 

Also, would you do me a favor —if you resonate with this article or it has helped you today— would you share it with someone else? If you know a struggling Mama; maybe a friend, coworker, or family member…?

 

 

Fiercely Fighting for my Marriage {Fierce Friday}

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Today’s #fierceFriday post comes from Sarah Geringer. Sarah is strong and brave and fiercely fought for her marriage when it was crumbling. I highly respect Sarah for doing exactly what it took to transform her marriage! I’m honored to have her today and I KNOW you’ll be blessed by her story.

Fiercely Fighting for my Marriage

One night in April 2015, my husband moved out, leaving me and my three children alone in our home.

I had sensed a separation brewing for many years, especially in the past six months.  After consoling our heartbroken children and dealing with my own pain that awful night, I was surprised to feel relieved. We had finally hit bottom, and the looming question of “When will he leave us?” had been answered with a date and time.

Yet many new questions loomed.  Will he do what it takes to address our problems? Will he finally agree to healthy changes? Will he ever come back home?  Will we become destitute? Will our children ever recover from this loss?  I wondered in the loneliness of our king-sized bed.

Fiercely Fighting for my Marriage

Fiercely Fighting | Getting to the root of the issue:

In the year 2000, we were drawn to each other in a whirlwind romance.  Both from divorced homes, we possessed a keen awareness of one another’s hurts and sorrows.  Both starved for love, we rushed to the altar eight months after our first date.  Our problems began only two weeks after our wedding since each of us came into our marriage with a bushel basket full of unresolved issues.

During our frequent arguments, I withdrew in hurt while he lashed out in anger.  The more I withdrew, the angrier he became.  The only way to stop the bitter descent was to appease him.  I became an expert pleaser, unconsciously granting him myriad avenues for taking advantage.  But he lost respect for me when I appeased him and the cycle of hurt and anger reignited.  We were both toxic for each other’s mental, emotional, and spiritual health.

When our first child was born in 2004, I felt a new, powerful sense of self-worth.  Our baby depended on me for everything. I had the power to give him life through feeding, attention, and care.  For the first time ever, I felt needed and valued.  I joined a mother’s Bible study group at my church and began connecting with godly friends.  I steeped myself in God’s word and began reading Christian self-help books. My goal was to become emotionally whole.

The stronger and healthier I became, the more my husband resisted.  He was used to being in control and didn’t like being challenged.  He pushed back with emotional abuse, having not learned healthy relationship styles in his childhood.  God granted me special insight into my husband’s past, which gave me compassion for him.  Yet I realized I couldn’t fix his problems.  He needed to choose to get healthy all by himself; I couldn’t make his choice for him.  After years of abuse, I doubted he would make a good choice.

Fiercely Fighting for my Marriage | Sarah GeringerFiercely Fighting:

So, I cried rivers of tears.  I attended counseling for four years.  I read scores of helpful Christian books.  I sought wise advice from trusted friends.  I wrote out my pain in my journals.  I uttered thousands of prayers for healing in our marriage. As a result, my faith grew exponentially and became as strong as steel.  But my marriage problems seemed to multiply as the years passed.

No matter how difficult our marriage became, I never gave up on my belief in God’s great plan for marriage, instituted in the Garden of Eden.  I thought God’s plan for intimate union between a husband and wife was beautiful and within reach for every married couple, even though we hadn’t attained it yet.  

On the morning after my husband left, I sent the kids to my mom’s house while I called an army of supporters.  I asked them to pray fiercely that God would not allow anyone or anything to permanently break the bond we had sealed on our wedding day.  

Fiercely praying myself, I asked that God would soften my husband’s heart and speak to my heart too.  Again and again, I prayed Psalm 139:23-24 out loud:

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.  See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. (NIV)

I did not know what would happen next. But I put all my hope in God, who moves mountains. I knew God’s will was for us to stay married, but I also knew God had given both us free will to choose our own paths, whether wayward or righteous.

Fiercely Fighting | Marriage transformed:

As April turned into May, we made progress.  When he came over and visited on Sunday afternoons, he showed clear signs of regret.  I needed proof he would repent from emotional abuse, and I fiercely set boundaries against old behaviors.  As the spring flowers and trees bloomed in an unfolding parade, I saw my husband’s heart transform from week to week.  His resistance toward me began to fade, and his regret changed to repentance.  My own heart softened toward him and opened toward hope for lasting change.

Boundaries in marriage are a must if healing is to take place. #fiercelyHis #fierceFriday Click To Tweet

The weekend before Memorial Day, my husband and I had a special meeting.  He wrote me a letter, crying openly while he read it out loud to me.  The Holy Spirit spoke to me while he read, saying, “It’s time to welcome him back home.”  We embraced a new tenderness, willing to accept each other.  We were a new couple in a new marriage, working hard to turn our backs on the past.

Our five weeks of separation were over.  New life slowly came back into our marriage.  We had both been transformed by God’s miraculous intervention.  If I had not fiercely fought for our marriage with prayer and boundaries, our marriage would have never survived.  God prepared me over the years to fiercely fight for our marriage.  

Now I tell our story to others who feel trapped in painful marriages.  Healing and hope is possible with God’s help.  If my story helps just one woman fight more fiercely for her marriage, it is worth the telling.

Healing and hope IS possible with God! #fiercelyHis #fierceFriday Click To Tweet

Sarah is a warrior! And she is #fiercelyHis

Sarah Geringer is a wife and mother of three. She lives in her beloved home state of Missouri. On her blog, she focuses on helping women find peace in God’s word. She enjoys reading, baking, gardening, and walking in nature. Her theme verse for 2017 is:

“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, for they trust in you.” Isaiah 26:3 NIV

Keep up with Sarah on her blog, Facebook  Twitter  and Pinterest 

I love hearing from you! Please take a minute to say ‘hi’ and share your thoughts below. 

Also, would you do me a favor —if you resonate with this article or it has helped you today— would you share it with someone else? Maybe a friend, coworker, or family member…?

 

 

 

The Testimony Tour | Why I Believe

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The Testimony Tour | Why I believe

The Testimony Tour | Why I Believe

I’m so very excited you’re here today because you’re in for a treat! I’m so honored to be a part of “The Testimony Tour” in the blogosphere with 9 other amazing bloggers who I admire greatly. We will each be sharing how we came to know Jesus.  Each of our stories are so different yet they each reveal just how amazing the love is that He has for us. Each day this week we will share our stories, and today happens to be my day. Veronica is on the tour with me today and she is AMAZING, so be sure and check her story out here! If you’re new here, welcome! I’m so glad you stopped by. If you’ve got a minute, grab a cup of coffee and look around!

The Story of Why I Believe

As I swept up the shards of glass that were all over the floor, I couldn’t help but see tiny pieces of my life scattered about. There were sharp edges all around me; their soul desire to expose my jugular and drain every ounce of life from me.

Pain and devastation surrounded me.

What had I done, and what would my future look like? At the time, it looked just like all of those tiny pieces of glass all over my floor that had no hope of being put back together.

Everything I held dear and believed in was stripped away. Everything that I had become up to this point in my life was now mute. My life no longer mattered.

There was no hope.

The daughter that I had become was nothing but a disgrace to her parents. The mother that had kissed her babies boo-boo’s and wiped the tears away had fallen so hard that nothing could heal. The wife that honored and loved her husband had disrespected and disgraced him in every possible way.

For he has rescued us from the kingdom of darkness and transferred us into the Kingdom of his dear Son, who purchased our freedom and forgave our sins. Colossians 1:13,14

I thought I knew.

I’ve known about and loved Jesus for as long as I can remember. Some might look at my life and call me the good little church girl because honestly, that’s what I had always been.

We went to church every Sunday. I remember the frilly dresses, ruffle socks and little-colored barrettes that my Mom so perfectly placed in my hair as a pre-schooler. I remember the untucked, haphazard shirts and messy hair walking out of elementary children’s church after mightily singing actions songs like Father Abraham, Deep and Wide, and Castle of my Heart. I’m certain I was the loudest singer in the room. I remember the floral dresses and big puffy sleeves; the pantyhose and heels; and the aqua net hairspray that held my bangs up 6 inches high as I walked down the aisle to find a seat in the pew at “big church.”

I am so grateful to parents who raised me in a church; who taught me how to love and know Jesus, and how to have an authentic relationship with Him.

So, how is it that I didn’t really find that authentic relationship with him until years later? How is it that it took a devastating trial in my marriage to bring me to my knees and dependence on an Almighty God; that I thought I already knew?

I believe.

I’ve been saved practically my whole life yet I didn’t experience real, true salvation until I was 36 years old. That was 9 years ago.

After 15 years of marriage, I did the never of all never’s. You know… that one thing you say you’ll never do? My “never” was betraying my husband. It’s the thing I said I’d never do.

But at the age of 36, I found myself smack dab in the middle of devastation and heartache from the never.

I had done the unthinkable and had committed the ultimate sin (in my eyes).

There was no way out and certainly no redemption for me.

Oh, but I was wrong…

There was a way out.

And His name was Jesus.

My story is a scandalous although beautiful one; but only because He made it beautiful. His thumbprint’s are everywhere. Looking back it’s hard to believe I made it.

It’s hard to believe we made it.

Through all the devastation and heartbreak, when we didn’t know if either one of us would make it to the next day; we did. We made it. We made it because of Jesus. Today our family is healthy. We are happy, and we are thriving.

Because of Him.

You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. Jeremiah 29:13

The Testimony Tour | Why I Believe

This is why I believe.

How many marriages do you know that have survived an extra-marital affair? You may know some, but I bet not many. Not only is it biblical to walk away from a marriage after infidelity, it’s expected.

Infidelity wrecks a marriage in every way possible and it’s hard…really hard, to get through it; although we are proof that it can be done.

The only way our’s survived and the only way I survived personally was because of faith in Jesus Christ. There’s just no other explanation.

Sometimes, your heart has to break completely in two before it can become whole again.

Sometimes, your heart has to break completely in two before it can become whole… Click To Tweet

My husband was the ultimate picture of love and forgiveness to me. I finally learned what I had been taught after so many years; that Jesus Christ was real.

I finally understood what true love looked like.

Through my husband, I learned just how much Christ loves us. He forgave me even though I broke his heart into a million tiny pieces. He didn’t turn me away even though he had every right to do so. Just like Jesus Christ does for each one of us.

The Testimony Tour | Why I believe, Fiercely His

“By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us” 1 John 3:16 

Instead of leaving, my husband decided to fight. He decided to fight through the hurt.

What is more; Jesus knew everything about me, but He loved me anyway. He knew every vile thing I had done yet He still wanted me. I was still His (#fiercelyHis); and He had finally become mine.

Jesus knows everything about us, yet He loves us anyway; unconditionally. #TheTestimonyTour… Click To Tweet

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.” Isaiah 43:1

So, this Jesus thing… this Jesus thing is REAL.

Jesus Christ is REAL.

He literally SAVED me. He picked me up and dusted off all the guilt and shame. He made me clean. He made me whole.

And I am worthy; not because of anything that I did, but because of everything that HE did.

“He has paid a full ransom for His people. He has guaranteed His covenant with them forever. What a holy, awe-inspiring name He has!” Psalm 111:9

This is why I believe and this is why I call myself a Christian.

I get it. Sharing my story is risky. I only do so to let others know that there is truth and light.
There is peace.
There is happiness.

I am a living miracle. My marriage is a living miracle. And I just can’t keep it to myself.

I believe and am a Christ-follower (Christian) because Jesus loved me when I was unlovable. No one will ever be able to convince me that He isn’t real. He changed me, and I will never be the same.

For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard. Yet God, in his grace, freely makes us right in his sight. He did this through Christ Jesus when he freed us from the penalty for our sins. For God presented Jesus as the sacrifice for sin. People are made right with God when they believe that Jesus sacrificed his life, shedding his blood. This sacrifice shows that God was being fair when he held back and did not punish those who sinned in times past.. Romans 3:23-25

The Testimony Tour | Why I BelieveI hope you’ll join the rest of the tour!

There are some amazing stories that you don’t want to miss! The next stop on the tour  is the amazing Lauren! Be sure and check it out! You will LOVE her!

I love hearing from you! Please take a minute to say ‘hi’ and share your thoughts below.

Also, would you do me a favor —if you resonate with this article or it has helped you today— would you share it with someone else? Maybe a friend, coworker, or family member…?

 

You can also visit the rest of the Tour by visiting the links

below!

Day One

Milk and Honey FaithMarried By His Grace

Day Two

Searching For MomentsSeeking God with Jaime Wiebel

Day Three

Simply For OneCord of 6

Day Four

VeronicaAnneShannon

Geurin

Day Five

Friends With GodFlourishing Today

 

 

 

 

 

How to Fight Your Fear with Prayer {Fierce Friday}

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I am so honored today to bring you Rachel Britton. I love Rachel’s blog because she is so very wise. And, she’s Brittish! I love her story of how she fought fear with prayer..it’s something we all need to do!

Fear.

My doctor seemed to hesitate, before pressing on the area again. Fear kept me from saying anything. When he moved on I breathed a sigh of relief. The lump I’d felt must be nothing.

Yet, I didn’t feel at peace about it.

A few months later, I sat on my bed chatting to my sister-in-law on the phone.

“I’m not sure if I’ve got a lump in my breast,” I said. “Go and get it checked immediately,” she replied.

So I did.

Fight your fear with prayer!

I called my doctor first thing on the Monday morning. He sent me for a mammogram the next day.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” I told my husband about to fly across the country to California. “You go on your business trip.”

So as I slipped my arm back into the hospital gown after the technologist had finished taking pictures, I wasn’t too worried. So far, everything seemed routine.

Then she came back. “We’re going to do an ultrasound,” she explained, “down the corridor to the left.”

I clutched my clothes tightly to my chest as I walked into a waiting room crowded with men and women, trying not to feel self conscious about my half-naked body under the gown.

As I lay on the bed in the small room and wiped the gel off my skin with a towel, waiting for the doctor.

The only words I heard her say, as she sat down beside me, were: “no biopsy, you must have surgery straightaway.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. “I need to call my husband,” I said, my voice shaking. Yet when I heard him speak, I couldn’t get any words out. “Can you tell him,” I sobbed, handing the phone to the doctor.

In the sanctuary of my car, I broke down.

I let tears flow as shock from the news and fear of the unknown covered me like a cold blanket.

I had cancer. What kind of surgery would I need? How long would I have to live? Who would care for my three children?

I felt so alone. My husband was 3,000 miles away to the west and my family was 3,000 miles in the opposite direction across the Atlantic in England.

Yet, I had a spiritual family who could help me.

When I got home, I called my pastor and asked her to pray for me, along with the women’s prayer team.

When we feel unable to fight for ourselves, we need other people to be strong for us.

And, I had a Heavenly Father.

Fight your fear with PRAYER! Here's how>>#fierceFriday #fiercelyHis Click To Tweet

How to fight fear with prayer.

I had learned to spend time with him during the mundane moments. I regularly went to the track in my town to walk and talk with God. It had been a habit for a long time.

So, it was natural to turn to him in a crisis and believe He was still by my side.

We need to put down roots when the sun shines so we can stand when the storms come. It’s easier then.

Not that I now found it easy to endure or to pray eloquently, but I tried.

Throughout my treatment, I kept up the practice of going to the track when I could.

When butterflies agitated my stomach because of another hospital visit, I’d walk and whisper to God: “I’m scared.”

Fight your fear with prayer!

When worry was my constant companion, during those early weeks of multiple biopsies, I’d remember scripture promises if we pray our anxiety will be replaced by peace.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7

When I heard the birds chirping cheerfully in the bushes beside the track, I’d be reminded: Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? (Matthew 6:26-27) Although this thought had difficulty finding its way from my head to my heart.

When my breathing and footfalls were heavy, I’d think about how Jesus prayed when He was burdened. His anguish poured out like drops of blood to the ground.

When my anxiety did not subside, I realized Jesus experienced the same. When He was deeply distressed and troubled, He returned to prayer three times.

It’s comforting to know that in His humanness, Jesus experienced the same anxiety and fear as we do.

In His humanness, Jesus experienced the same anxiety and fear as we do. #fierceFriday #fiercelyHis Click To Tweet

When I thought about family, friends, and people at my church—even those I didn’t know well—who had surged into action and poured out prayers I could not express, I recalled how Jesus wanted his friends to pray, but they fell asleep.

So, like Jesus, I fought my fear by channeling my despair into prayer. I invite you to do the same.

Rachel is a British-born writer and speaker. She is passionate about helping women know their true worth so they can live boldly. Raised on the east coast of England, she now lives in New England with her husband. They have three college-aged children. Rachel cannot live without English tea and chocolate. She has been cancer-free for four years.  You can connect with Rachel at rachelbritton.com, on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram 

Got a #fierceFriday story to share? I’d love to hear it!

I love hearing from you! Please take a minute to say ‘hi’ and share your thoughts below.

Also, would you do me a favor —if you resonate with this article or it has helped you today— would you share it with someone else? Maybe a friend, coworker, or family member…?

To the girl struggling to see her self-worth {FREE DOWNLOAD}

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I was voluntarily trapped inside the shame box, hiding and hoping that no one would find me. Self-worth was something completely void in my life. I wasn’t good. I was unworthy; unlovable. Being inside the shame box felt safe but when the lid was opened, my sins were exposed; out in the open for the world to see.

I walked towards the restaurant, every step feeling like I was wading through quick sand. My husband opened the door for me as he always does, but I motioned for him to go ahead of me. Wanting to hide, I walked behind him through the foyer into the crowded and busy restaurant. Immediately I felt heads turning in judgement. I heard voices saying, “She’s the one!”, “Get her out of here!” “I don’t want her near me!” I hung my head in shame wondering why in the world I had agreed to go out to eat. Every deserved dart came at me, threatening to cripple me.

Every where I went I felt the same struggles; walking through Target, strolling the mall, shopping for groceries. Every one there was throwing insults my way; telling me that I was no good; questioning the kind of mother I was; wondering how my husband was still married to me.

Although the shame box was safe, I needed out.

Every day I had to physically force myself to be some kind of normal. I had to physically drag myself out of bed and help my daughters get ready for school. I didn’t have a choice.

Every day I had to fight.

I tried opening my bible but it felt like I was reading a book that was written in a foreign language. At the time, I didn’t have the strength to re-learn it and I didn’t feel I was worthy, anyway.

That was a long time ago, and I’m happy to say things have changed dramatically for me. Although there are times when shame tries to creep back in, I am happy and whole. I know my worth. I know my value. And I know I am loved.

To the Girl struggling to see her self-worth -God sees you!

 

To the girl struggling to see her self-worth:

I get you girl, and you aren’t alone.

Because of past mistakes or past hurts, you can’t seem to get one foot in front of the other; and when you do, you’re dragging.

Oh how I get you.

I know how it feels to stand in front of the mirror, not being able to put your foundation on because of the tears running down your face.

I know.

Self-worth: The Fight.

Please listen to me: There is something out there that wants to literally destroy you and me. He slivers around inside our heads and shouts profanities at us. He hates us and everything about us. He is fighting to bring us down. And it isn’t a petty little playground fight. This is legit. This is the fight of all fights. 

The fight for your selfworth isnt a petty little playground fight-it's legit, & can destroy… Click To Tweet

Can I be a little (alot) bit bold with you?

How dare we allow this to happen?! Right? How dare we allow something like this to grab hold of us and tell us who we are and who we are not.

I mean, we are daughters of the most high King for goodness sakes!? Put those gloves on girl, and fight!

We have a heavenly Father who is so in love with us that He gave His Son as a sacrifice so that you and I would never have to feel this way!

God made YOU. He FORMED you while you were in your momma’s belly. You were made in HIS image. So, just knowing this alone means that our worth is not in ourselves but in God, because He made us!

“You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb.” Psalm 139:14

And here lies the issue: knowing it and believing it are two very different things. So, how do we BELIEVE? How do we believe and know that we have worth; that we are worthy?

It’s an every day fight. We have to fight to know and believe it because the devil is going to do everything he can to bring us down. So let’s punch him in the face! Wanna?

He (Satan) is fighting and we MUST FIGHT BACK. Ephesians 6:10-18

Self-worth: The Lies vs The Truth.

I’m sure you’re a great momma and wife, but that isn’t where your worth is found.
Whether you get 123 likes or 4 likes on your latest Facebook picture that isn’t where your worth is found.
Whether you’re a teacher, musician or politician, that’s not where your worth is found.

Your worth is found in Jesus Christ and Jesus Christ alone. Period.

To the Girl struggling to see her self-worth -God sees you!

Self-worth: Gold and Silver.

You’re valuable! So valuable that you were worth God sacrificing His only Son. And he may be the only person that will ever really and truly love you unconditionally. Let this truth-bomb soak in; because when it does, it will be the only opinion that really matters.

God is the only person that will ever really love you unconditionally. #selfworth #fiercelyHis Click To Tweet

You are loved, girl! You are valuable! You are worthy! Now, lift that head up. As I always say to my girls: chin up, buttercup.

Several weeks ago I offered you a #SheIsFierce Fighter Journal for when you need to fight for your marriage, and this week I’m offering another one!

To the Girl struggling to see her self-worth -God sees you!#SheIsFierce Fighter Journal/Fighting to Know Your Self-worth

In this journal you will find 6 steps to knowing your self-worth with 6 truths and 6 actions steps. And an added bonus with 24 verses for when you need a self-worth boost!

And how can you get this journal??

I’m so glad you asked! It’s easy- all you have to do is join the #fiercelyHis community!

I love hearing from you! Honestly it makes me giddy. (no lie)Please take a minute to say ‘hi’ and share your thoughts below. 

Also, would you do me a favor —if you resonate with this article or it has helped you today— would you share it with someone else? Maybe a friend, coworker, or family member…?

You might also enjoy:

 

 

From Pain to Promise {Fierce Friday}

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I’m thrilled to have my friend Regan Frizzelle share her powerful story with us today, and how God did not waste her pain! Regan is proof that no matter what our past looks like, there is always hope for us!

Pain to Promise

I remember the day that Jesus invaded my life so well.

I came home from school instead of going to my Mom’s nail salon. She worked 14 hours a day in order to put food on the table for the four of us. She was on her 5th marriage to a man who was a mirror to her. She treated all the men before, the way he was treating her now; manipulative and mean. And it was a wake-up call for her about who she had become.

My mom drank to go to sleep and she drank to wake up. She kept a little pink glass at her nail station at all times that was full of Wild Turkey or Tequila.

When I got home from school one day the phone rang. It was one of my Mom’s clients. She was super anxious  and asked if I had gone to see my Mom at her shop; which I told her, no. She urged me to head to her shop because she had received an alarming call from my mom saying, “goodbye.”

When I got there, the doors were locked. This was rare, because my Mom always said, “we can’t make money if my doors are shut.” She was always working.

I peaked through the huge glass window in the front. She wasn’t at her desk. All I could see was a note. The words written on that little note were devastating.

Dear Mark,

I’m so sorry that I’m not enough for you. I can’t seem to make you happy.
Kids, I love you so much. Please forgive me.

Love, Mom

From Pain to Promise- God will never waste our pain!I took a step back from the glass window and thought to myself, “What is going on? My mom does not give up?!”

The police arrived and busted the door open. I rushed in front of the officer, not knowing what I was going to find. I was screaming and crying so hard with a mixture of emotions from hurt to anger. When I found her she was sitting cross-legged; beside her an almost empty bottle of Wild Turkey and a gun. She was conscious, but because of all she drank she was totally unaware.

My mom’s pain had taken her to the rock bottom and I felt like I was right there with her.

The ambulance came and took her to the psychiatric ward while I stayed behind to close up her shop.

Destiny Changed.

God stepped into the cold psychiatric ward that night. A doctor came in, rolled up in his chair knee to knee with my intoxicated Mom and gave her hope. He said, “You know I don’t think you are a bad lady at all. I don’t think you want to hurt yourself. I think you need hope. Do you have a church or a Bible?”

This changed the course of all our lives.

Just hours later they released her. She met a Pastor who gave her a bible in the middle of a parking lot and prayed with her. 

I was at my Grandparents for a couple of weeks because I wasn’t sure I wanted to come home. When I did, my Mom greeted me with a hug at the door. We sat down and she told me how she wanted to read the Bible and go to church. I love my mom and was always so close with her. I laid on her shoulder and just cried. She had a hope that I wanted and I could see change in her eyes. Something was so different!

These next few months my mom devoured the word of God. She began to transform right before our very eyes. My life has never been the same.

Oh, we tried to find the Doctor from the Psychiatric ward years later and there was no record of him having ever worked there. We think he was our angel!

Hope Renewed.

From Pain to Promise- God will never waste our pain!

 

My Mom’s transformation was radical. She quit drinking almost immediately and began to pray for each of her kids.

When I caught hold of hope in Jesus, I never looked back. I went to Bible school and met my husband Aaron. We have been in ministry almost 17 years together. 15 of those years I spent reaching students in Lawton, and Tulsa, Ok. Working with students was an honor for me because I got to give them hope; which is something I never had. 

Jeanne Mayo, a mentor of mine says, “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.”

People don't care how much you know until they know how much you care.-Jeannie Mayo #fierceFriday Click To Tweet

The students that we spent years reaching only wanted to be loved, seen and heard. God was the one who changed their behavior. Our goal was to just love consistently. I think of serving the local church as my opportunity and not my obligation. I know the desperation of extreme hopelessness and my mandate is to make my pain pay me back through the investment of others. I want to see those that are lost, found; just as I was.

I pray that no matter how hard your road is or has been that you would know and understand your value. Value is not something we are all born with. It is invested and sought after and most of all it’s placed.

Your greatest tool to fight in life could very well be your JOY!

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex. Psalm 139:13 (NLT)

The Lord is my strength and my song; He has given me victory. Psalm 118:14

Regan is a fighter and she is #fiercelyHis

Regan serves alongside her husband at Hope Fellowship, in Frisco Tx. She has three kids; Jaxon, Jada, and Ivy. She enjoys serving the church in every way. Regan loves to share her story and gift of comedy to bring encouragement and make people laugh. She wants to give people the permission to relax and not take everything so serious. 

I always enjoy hearing from you! Please take a minute to say ‘hi’ and share your thoughts below. 

Also, would you do me a favor —if you resonate with this article or it has helped you today— would you share it with someone else? Maybe a friend, coworker, or family member…?

You might also enjoy:

When Gods Plan Exceeds our Dreams

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Sometimes our dreams aren’t His plans. I’m so excited to have Ally as a guest today! Ally is just a down-to-earth girl who isn’t afraid to follow God’s leading. She’s bold. She’s courageous.  And I admire her! 

I pull the door shut and lock it, feeling the now-familiar clink of the bolt finding its mark. The faint smell of marijuana thanks to the other tenants of the building our company rents- lingers despite the pine scented candles I have burning all the time.

Covering each candle, I extinguish their small flames before turning off the lights, locking the cash drawer. I check the time on my phone, and look past those digital numbers, focusing on a picture of my home… some 800 miles and two more months away.

We can close our fists around our dreams and plans and to surrender them to the One who knows everything. Or, we can keep our hands open, palms up, waiting for the adventure He has in store.
An unexpected life.

I really never expected a life like this one.

Let’s be honest- we all have expectations for how our lives are going to go. Those expectations can be casual assumptions, wild fantasies, things we’ve planned and worked toward. Sometimes, those expectations are met… sometimes not.

My life reads like a series of expectation obituaries. Most of my plans, most of the things I just assumed would be part of my life, all those expectations have died.

Killed by reality.

I could list them all for you, all the things I never expected- a nomadic lifestyle of six months in one place, six in another; this job that chose me; infertility stealing my dreams of a big family; more.

So many more.

We’ve all got our lists of the unexpected. You have one, too.

But the list of unmet expectations matters much less than what we do with that list.

See, I’m learning that it’s so easy for me to hold up my unexpected life to God in anger.

It’s so easy.

Expectations are tricky that way.

Especially on days when I’m overwhelmed, when I grieve, when I’m tired or hungry, it’s so easy to allow my expectations to harden our hearts. I do it all the time. I wanted my life to look a certain way, and it doesn’t, and so I’m inclined to believe that God is withholding and I shake my fists at Him.

Sometimes our dreams aren't His plans. #fiercelyHis #fierceFriday Click To Tweet

I lift up my hands full of complaints and grumbling and ask, How is this better than my plans? and Why is this what You’ve given me? and sometimes, Why can’t I have a life like hers?

But there’s another way.

It’s harder.

It’s a fight.

And in the end, He wins.

I pry my fingers loose one by one, open palms, open heart. I hold my hands open to receive what’s given, not what’s expected.

Open palms, open heart.

And I remember that contentment is a struggle and retraining my mind to the truths of God’s goodness to me is a process, slow and painstaking. I can give in to the sore spots of the way I thought it should be rather than the way it is. I can give in to the whispers of the evil one telling me who I am.

Or I can keep trying.

You can let discontent cloud your vision & make life miserable or you can keep trying.… Click To Tweet

I’m trying to keep asking, What do You have for me here?

Because ultimately, my life is like dust the wind blows away, and what He has ordained lasts forever.

So what does He have for me here?

For some of my unexpected life, there are answers.

My high-school-self had life turned upside down when my family moved, but I met my husband there.

This crazy job (at a snowmobile touring company, of all things) is the last place I expected to be, but here I am, breathing a small bit of Life into these scruffy young men and showing them a small taste of God’s love.

For some of my life, there are no answers to the questions; yet.

But I can do one of two things- I get the choice. I can close my fists around my dreams and my plans and refuse- refuse to surrender them to the One who knows everything.

Or, I can keep my hands open, palms up, waiting for the adventure He has in store for me.

Ally Vermeer is an accidental country girl who splits her time between the cornfields of Iowa and the snowy mountain passes of Colorado. She strives to find beauty in the everyday, find God’s gifts in the unexpected, and find her phone (where’d she leave it this time?). Ally writes about faith, her family, her farmhouse, and counts her blessings (even the speckled ones) at The Speckled Goat. You can also connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheSpeckledGoat/

Blog: http://thespeckledgoatblog.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/thespkldgoat

See what I mean? Isn’t she admirable? I applaud you Ally, for following His leading even when it feels uncomfortable!

Ally is a fighter. And she is #fiercelyHis

I always enjoy hearing from you! Please take a minute to say ‘hi’ and share your thoughts about Ally’s story below. Can you relate? 

Also, would you do me a favor —if you resonate with this article or it has helped you today— would you share it with someone else? Maybe a friend, coworker, or family member…?

You might also enjoy these related articles:

How I Learned to Fiercely Trust During a Time of Doubt {Fierce Friday}

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I’m so excted to have Natalie as a guest today! I know you’ll fall in love with her just as I did several months ago. Natalie has such wisdom and I’m honored to know her! Her Momma’s heart in this story shines through. Enjoy!

Thanksgiving of 2016 is one that I’ll remember for the rest of my life.  It’s the day that our “normal” was forever changed…

Life Altered.

I remember that as I sat next to my son in the dark, all I could hear was the bleep of the heart monitor.  The overwhelming concern I felt was sending chills down my spine.  My nineteen year old son Alex lay sleeping in the hospital bed with his body in a weakened and fragile state.

I watched as he breathed in and out, wondering how did we get here?  How was it that my son (who was young and healthy) ended up in the Intensive Care Unit on Thanksgiving Day? 

Was he going to pull through?

I prayed.  I prayed hard about the unknown that was set before us.

The Diagnosis.

My son was suffering from Ketoacidosis which causes the body to accumulate keto acids in the blood.  It was something that could have been fatal had we not taken him to the Emergency Room.  As the lab results started coming in Alex was officially diagnosed as a Type 1 diabetic.

This floored me.

First off, I had no idea what the difference between a Type 1 and Type 2 diabetic was.  I was under the preconceived notion that they were both conditions that occurred when someone was consuming too much sugar.

Not true.

I was informed that my son had a pancreas that produced either very little or no insulin at all.  He was now going to be insulin dependent for the rest of his life.  I slowly began to realize that his life was no longer in danger, but that this wasn’t something that was just going to go away. 

He was receiving a life sentence. 

I was assured that this would be the first of many visits to the ICU and that blindness and limb amputation were a reality he’d might one day have to face.

As I sat going over the flood of information I was receiving, my flesh wanted to cry out and ask God why He had added this onto my already toppling pile of burdens.

My heart already knew why. 

All this was actually an answer to my prayers.

A Hard Year.

2016 had been a particularly rough year.  It seemed almost like our family had been getting hit from the right and the left.  Our children had been giving us a hard time by testing their boundaries and doing what teenagers do.

Us being slammed with a hospital visit on a holiday fit right in with the vibe of recent circumstances.

The most challenging of my two kids throughout the year had definitely been my son.  The nicest way I could put the amount of pain and destruction he was causing is by comparing him to the prodigal son.

I had been spending countless days and night in prayer that my son would give his heart to Jesus.  That he would live a life for Him and stop buying into the lie that this world has something more to offer.  The more I prayed, it seemed like the further away he got.

That’s when my prayers turned desperate and tearful.

“Give him a wake up call God.  Make him live a life for you and realize that there is nothing else out there that compares to you.  Rattle him Lord.  I pray that he no longer gets pleasure from his bad choices but that they actually make him sick.”

God hears our fierce prayers, and answers them as He sees fit.God hears our #fierce prayers! #fiercelyHis #fierce trust @milkandhoneyfth Click To Tweet

His way, not my way.

Jesus and the ICU.

Just like that, Jesus had reminded me how He was in the midst of it all and overwhelming peace flooded my heart.

I felt some guilt, but mostly peace because I knew that God was using this to move my son’s heart toward him.  It was necessary.

My fear of a new medical diagnosis was then trumped by the comfort of an all-knowing God.  His sovereign will took over and I was going to let it. 

Extreme doubt was replaced by fierce trust. 

How I learned to fiercely trust God during a season of extreme doubt.

I was trusting to leave the unknown up to our God whose master plan was bigger than I could even conceive of.

For truly, God loves my son even more than I do.

We prayed healing over my son.  We thanked the Lord for giving Him a chance.  We thanked God for saving his life.  That room in the ICU was flooded with praise.

I found myself being so grateful that we live in a day in age where the medical field is as advanced as it is.  Had this been a hundred years ago, my son wouldn’t have survived.

I thanked God that this happened while my son was still living in my home and was covered under my insurance.

A situation that started off as sinister was turning into a reason for praise!

That is only possible with a God as good as ours.

He is Trustworthy.

I learned that in life’s bleakest moments God still shines through. God's promise of being the Rock we can stand on is there for the taking. @milkandhoneyfth… Click To TweetYet, some of us still choose the shifting sand.  He taught me that I could lean on Him and that He would sustain me during whatever life would throw at me.  Up until then, nothing had been life threatening but He showed me that sooner or later those moments show up for us all.

Who will you trust?

Who can we trust?

Him.

Our Savior Jesus Christ.

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.  For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. James 1: 2-3

How I learned to fiercely trust God during a season of extreme doubt.Natalie Venegas is a Christian creative and California native that now resides in Las Vegas, NV.  Her passion is community and her heart is for the Lord.  When she isn’t writing for Milk & Honey Faith she can be found spending quality time with her husband Anthony and her two children.  Natalie also serves alongside her Husband in ministry in the hopes of reaching many with the Gospel of Jesus and furthering His Kingdom. You can also connect with Natalie 

https://www.pinterest.com/milkandhoneyfth/

https://twitter.com/milkandhoneyfth

https://www.instagram.com/milkandhoneyfaith/

Natalie is a fighter, and she is #fiercelyHis

I love hearing from you! Please take a minute to say ‘hi’ and share your thoughts about Natalie’s story below. Also, if you have a story you’d like to share, click here for more info.

Also, would you do me a favor —if you resonate with this article or it has helped you today— would you share it with someone else? Maybe a friend, coworker, or family member…?

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