How to REALLY Fight For Your Kids

I caught her expression out of the corner of my eye. I was rushing to pile stuff on tables, and convince every person that my stuff was worth the $5 bucks I was selling it for. We were moving to Texas–suddenly. My three kids were in shock, but with some happiness. Except my daughter.

She would be leaving behind her friends.

She wouldn't be a varsity cheerleader anymore.

She sat there, in the chair, huddled with her friends, on her 16th birthday, watching me sell our stuff.

I will never, ever forget the look on her face. I tried my hardest to be positive. I had conversations with God and told him that I trusted him. But inside, as a mom, I was dying. I felt like a failure. I felt the worse sense of shame that somehow I was causing harm to my kids. I hated myself.

From that moment forward I hated everything about life and everything about how utterly helpless I was to change our circumstances. We moved to Texas and did our best to settle, temporarily at my brother's and then soon after into our own place. No matter what I have done, being in San Antonio just hasn't felt like home. I hated this place. And I convinced myself that if I chose to like it, then I chose my daughter's pain, and I couldn't own up to that.

Her depression was ruining her. Daily tears, hating her school, feeling utterly alone, feeling like she just didn't fit in. Our pain was unified, she hurt, and I hurt…I hated and she hated. I couldn't take it anymore. What happened to my independent,sassy, life-loving, joy-filled, fisher of men? She was slowly fading, with every tweet: I hate school, I hate my life, I hate people.

I told her counseling was inevitable, she was stuck without perspective and I could only encourage her so much. She refused, with all the stubbornness inside her. It only made sense to fast for her. I had to.

As a mom, I have certain control over my children's spiritual life. She is flesh of my flesh, and I have every right to approach the throne on her behalf. I have every authority over the principalities of darkness to fight on her behalf. And I did!

With every bite I denied myself, every Coke I passed up, my prayer was this: My daughter needs freedom more than I need this piece of bread. The pangs in my stomach are my spirit crying to you Lord to free my daughter and give her vision for her life.

And He did.

Her depression is lifted.

She can be sad about missing her friends without it controlling her life.

God has given her a clear vision for her immediate future. And she has been favored already as she starts her own business and blog. She no longer cries everyday. She no longer hates people. (However, she still very much hates her school).

She is seeking God's word, and has once again embraced her desire to conquer the world.

Although nothing has changed, everything has changed.

As parents we must go head to head with the enemy, refusing to allow anything to overcome our children. God entrusted them to us and it is our job to protect them, not just physically, but emotionally and especially spiritually.

A group of us are fasting

JULY 1

JULY 2

JULY 3

Join us if you have a child who:

  • Is overcome with depression
  • Needs a relationship with Christ
  • Is lost or alone
  • Is being bullied
  • Struggles with Addiction
  • Has a broken relationship with you
  • Just needs some breakthrough.

FAST WITH US!

FIGHT FOR THEM!

A leader of the local synagogue, who name was Jairus, came and fell down before him, pleading with him to heal his little daughter. “She is about to die,” he said in desperation. “Please come and place your hands on her; heal her so she can live.” Mark 5:22-23

Right away a woman came to him whose little girl was possessed by an evil spirit. She had heard about jesus, and now she came and fell at his feet. She begged him to release her child from the demon's control. Mark 7:25-26

One of the men in the crowd spoke up and said, “Teacher, I brought my son for you to heal him…” Mark 9:17

One day some parents brought their children to Jesus so he could touch them and bless them….He said to them, “Let the children come to me.” Mark 10:13&14

Parents! Bring your children to Jesus…they will be blessed and healed, And you will have a grateful heart, an overwhelming spirit of thankfulness whenever you look at our child. You will have evidence of God's present day miracles in the eyes of your very own child!

Comment your YES! and stay tuned as we prepare our hearts!

Share this with 3 people who can fast with you!

And for those of you who are already committed, I am praying for you!!

LIVE RECKLESS

 

 

When Life Gets Complicated, Eat an Egg

Every year I have this tradition.  One I don’t think my husband even knows about.  At Easter time, when I’m called by the chocolate bunnies to the candy aisle, I spend way too much time walking up and down each row picking up little candy chicks and convincing myself that I don’t need to buy all the PEZ dispensers. But when I stumble across one of these babies, I buy it.

cadbury egg

After spending all my money on juice and mac and cheese, and my Cadbury Creme Egg, I load it all up. As I leave the parking lot I unwrap the pile of sugar, brace myself and take a bite.  I can handle the chocolate.  One more bite, and now the creamy sugary egg-like center.  I choke it down, then roll down my window and chunk it.

It’s pretty much disgusting.

I pretty much hate them.

But every year, I buy one, take a bite and then gift it to the birds.

Easter has always been my favorite.  I love the spring, I love the flowers, the bunnies, and oh the chocolate.  When I was younger these little hunks of sugar were a staple in our house for the season.  My brother could inhale them.  I always enjoyed one or maybe two.  They were never really my favorite, but they just remind me.

They remind me of a simple day of being with family.

They remind me of the sunrise services where we would place fresh flowers in a chicken-wired cover cross, bringing it to life.

They remind me of new Easter dresses and patent leather shoes.

They remind me of the smell of the grass as I would hunt for eggs.

They remind me of one of the most influential days of my childhood.

They remind me of being a child.

Life gets so complicated.  We pay our taxes and try not to worry about what we owe while our kids are hunting eggs that we dyed the night before because we didn’t have time during the week.  We hope our kids embed their own memories of family and carry on tradition someday in the far away future.  We pray, just pray, that our kids really grasp the meaning of what happened on the cross…and what it means that Jesus got off of it.

But nothing brings back those moments of being a child. Not even a bite of those nasty eggs.  In fact, every year with the toss out the window, those little eggs show me how to embrace the beautiful life God has given me…the life with hopeful children, and fresh mercies and new life, every single day.

So blessed.

What is one of your favorite childhood Easter memories?

LG|LP

Tiff  

 

Christmas: It’s Not About Jesus

I was nineteen when I got pregnant with my first little lovie. I was living at home, but going to college and working, trying to find my way. I was terrified to tell my family I was pregnant. I knew how upset my mom would be. Not because our family didn't love kids, but because I was young, and she knew my life would never be the same.

Countless times I tried to find the courage. I wrote notes, rehearsed in the mirror, prayed. I knew I had to say something, I would get my bump soon enough. Somehow I found the courage. Only to be revisited by the same fear two years later when I was pregnant again.

I wonder how much of that fear overcame Mary when, at 15 and a virgin, had to tell her parents she was pregnant. I was at least a little older, and of course, not a virgin. But she was. I wonder how she handled the disappointment in their eyes. The disbelief in their voices. The shaking of the heads. How was her confidence in God's plan for her life? Did she doubt what she had accepted for her life? Even regret it. Sometimes I have no confidence. Sometimes I have disbelief in my own voice, and dooubt God's plan and what he's doing in my life.

Imagine, being Mary, and at fifteen digging deep within to find every amount of faith to trust that God would pave her way, and literallly save her life. She could've have been stoned. I just didn't want my mom to be mad at me.

Christmas isn't just about Jesus. It's about every person who had the faith to believe, the faith to let God use them and change their lives. Including you.

How confident are you in God's plan for your life?

Are you filled with faith in your purpose and trust every step God directs for you?