The Harvest IS Plentiful… You Got This!

 

Move God’s love.  You don’t need to fly across the world to make a difference. People right here, in your country, your state, your city, your hood need love and prayer and someone to really see them.

 

Looking forward to to hearing your stories on MONDAY about how God used YOU –yes YOU– to love someone this weekend!

 

Read this fantastic post by a fellow blogger…be inspired! Do something with your life!!!

The Harvest IS Plentiful

 

LG | LP

Tiff

How To Not Be Like Your Parents

“You look just like your mother!”

“The two of you are just a couple of bookends.”

“You and your mom even sound so much alike.”

Every corner I have turned, I have stumbled upon someone who is shocked at the uncanny resemblance I have to my mom. We look the same, although I am much taller. My eyes are blue, and hers green. But we have similar mannerisms, and often say the same phrases at the exact same moment. My brother said once during high school that being in our house is like living with two of the exact same people, who speak in stereo.

Then there is this guy.

Zak ebrahaim

When his uncle uttered the words, “Like father, like son,” an entirely different curse was spoken into existence. But he took a stand, and decided to NOT be like his father. It will take ten whole minutes of your life, but take a watch:

Zak Ebrahim is the author of the book The Terrorist’s Son. He grew up in Pittsburgh with a school teacher mom and an Islamic extremist father who was on of the men responsible for the 1993 World Trade Center bombing. A National Youth Convention, Busch Gardens and Jon Stewart challenged Zak to change his worldview. Although he grew up in a house of hatred, Zak has committed to living and spreading the message of peace. Zak has professed that he is not his father.

Even though we may look, sound and sometimes even act like our parents, we have the power to say no to carrying on any destructive habits they may have inadvertently passed on to us. Parents aren’t out to pass on their junk. In fact, most of them spend their entire lives trying to protect us from the very things that negatively affected them. But here is a TRUTH: Curses are a part of our history, whether we like it or not. VICTORY: We can choose what we do with that.

This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. now choose life, so that you adn your children may life and that you may love the LORD your God, listen to his voice and hold fast to him. For the LORD is your life, and he will give you many years in the land he swore to give to your fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Deut 30:19-20

No matter how fantastic your mom is or how horrible our father is, make a choice to let go of anything that chains your heart, digs up the hurt from your childhood, or allows you to soak in unforgiveness. Like Zak who was doomed for a life of violence and instead chose peace, you have permission to not be like your parent. You can be a curse breaker. Choose life, choose blessing…there is freedom awaiting for you, and that freedom will allow you to love… and my friend, love is what it is all about!

Who do you look more like, your mom or your dad? Comment and share with me your story of breaking curses!

LG | LP

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I Need Your Help

I want to start a movement.

I want you to help me.

It's simple, really. But at the same time it is so against what the world has, what the world offers.

It won't take much, just a little switch in thinking on our parts. A different window in which to gaze at the world.

I like the idea that we control our thoughts, and not the other way around. It's true, ya know?

All we have to do is believe in what we are called to do, and then act on our beliefs.

Jesus said to love God with everything.

Jesus said to love others.

So that's the movement I want us to start.

I want us to move God's love into the lives of anyone and everyone within our reach.

How? You ask.

By holding open doors.

By putting your phone away when you are checking out at the grocery store and talking to your cashier. Ask him how his day is going. Tell her that you like her earrings.

Smile at people.

Say thiank you.

Let people ahead of you in traffic, and wave a friendly hello.

Act with love.

Stop acting with impatience, selfishness and discontent.

Move God's love.

To anyone who crosses your path.

We are starting it. And we are starting it now. We are doing it together… and we are going to share our stories about how commiting to moving God's love makes a difference, not just in other's lives, but in ours.

Are you in? Comment and join the movement!

LG|LP

Raising a Kid with a Peanut Allergy

All it took was these words, “It could cause death”

I seriously wanted to punch the doctor in the face. My child was sitting right there, terror in his eyes. I did everything I could to stay calm for me, and for him. It wasn’t easy.

We talked about what it meant for us on the drive home. Later that night I chattered incessantly to my husband about all the life changes for our family, all because of

PEANUTS!

My son has a peanut allergy. And grass and trees, and almonds, mustard, peas, sesame, cats, and a partridge in a pear tree.

At first, I took it all with a grain of salt. He had peanut butter before, I was queen of peanut butter sandwiches. He would be fine. Then I started seeing all these stories in the news. This girl died after eating something she’s eaten before, after two Epi-pen inections, and a doctor for a dad. Then this other guy died. He had a peanut allergy his whole life. He ate a cookie! Bam! 22 years old, dead.

I decided it was time to take Zac’s peanut allergy seriously. He had to start carrying a small backpack with his Epi-pens, and he wears a medical bracelet. These are minor inconveniences. So is not being able to eat at Chik-Fil-A or Logan’s (yummm!). I have to read labels of every snack, food and drink. It has become a way of life.

The absolute hardest part of Zac having a peanut allergy is the constant state of fear that my child lives in. If you have ever met Zac, you can attest that he is a child who loves life. He is 5’4 at 9 years old, can slam dunk on an 8 foot goal. He loves to skateboard, and can consume his 120 lbs in chocolate if you would let him, if it’s not made in a factory where other products with peanuts are manufactured.

Every restaurant, every food, he wonders, “Is this going to hurt me?”

Every football game, he has to steer clear of anyone who eats peanuts, or throws shells on the floor.

Every celebration at school, when kids bring cupcakes for the class, Zac gets nothing. He sits and watches.

Every family gathering, he asks, “Are you sure mom?” “Did you check?”

Every day, my child wonders if he is going to die.

That may sound dramatic, but no, it’s just his reality.

We do our best to be cautious without over reacting.

But he’s nine.

And it’s heartbreaking to watch him, and to be so out of control, and to bury my own fears of what a small little peanut could do to my child.

Peanuts are what we call my son’s cryptonite. I pray daily that his Superman, supernatural spirit in Christ will sustain him all the days of his life.

Does your kid have a peanut allergy? What has it done to your life? Share with me!