My Achilles' Heel

The highly anticipated trip to Disney World was underway. Exactly one year ago, Eric, myself, our two little boys (2 and 4 at the time), and both sets of grandparents were having the time of our lives. Our first day of our trip was spent exploring the Magic Kingdom, and it was most definitely magical. Beautiful sunshine (in February), thrilling rides on the Buzz Lightyear Space Ranger Spin and Thunder Mountain Railroad, glorious parades with high fives from Mickey and Mr. Incredible, and dazzling fireworks were a few of the components to a perfect day. We expected nothing less as we woke up the next morning and ventured over to Hollywood Studios. We began the day dancing in Spanish mode with Buzz and Woody, and enjoyed the thrills of seeing some of our favorite Disney characters every where we turned. As we stepped out of the Voyage of the Little Mermaid theater, into the brilliant and blinding light of the sun, our day took an unexpected turn.

As was to be expected, we were used to it by now, the strollers were not left where we had parked them. Eric noticed this right away. The theater faced a courtyard (for lack of better terms) with another theater occupying the left side of the square, another theater across from the one we had just exited, and then a large arch that opened up to the Sorcerer's Hat - with a huge area of space in between these four structures. A loud parade was making its way through the crowded streets near the Sorcerer's Hat. Eric took off across the square, angling towards the arches, where we had parked the strollers. It was a bit of a walk from the exit of the theater. With Gabe on my hip, I followed behind Eric. As we turned a corner behind a building, there were our strollers, hidden from plain view. It was at this point when we were standing there that someone said, "Where's Jack?" As I turned around, the other five adults all turned as well. No Jack. Anywhere.

I passed Gabe to Grandma and bee lined for the theater. I remembered seeing Jack jumping on a spotlight just outside the theater as we had exited. As I ran, I heard Grandpa exclaim that he would stand near the arches, where slews of people were standing trying to get glimpses of the show in front of the big blue hat. At this point I was calm. Jack was probably just in the gift shop, which was right there as we exited the theater. I reached the spotlight. No Jack. I wasn't the only one calling his name as I ran through the gift shop. No Jack. My mom said she'd check the theater again. I turned and looked out across the square. Lord, give me the eyes to see what he saw. That's when I noticed Jake from Neverland back over in the direction towards our strollers, taking pictures. I sprinted back over that way, calling my precious son's name. No Jack. My heart was racing, adrenaline coursing through my body. This was getting scary. I turned around to face the same courtyard I had just ran across three times. I could not see him. In my peripheral vision I saw Eric, my mom, my dad, all running... nowhere. Coming up empty. Lord, Jack is a special boy. I don't know how he will handle strangers. Did somebody take him? Lord, help me see him!! At least 6 or 7 minutes had passed by now (which could have been an hour for all I care). As I looked back across the courtyard I saw a park "cast" member standing in front of the entrance to the theater we had exited, so I ran over to her.

"What do you do when you lose a kid?" I blurted it out in a panic, my voice high and shrill, ready to break at any moment. Her eyes bulged, reaching for her walkie-talkie. "What was he wearing?" she asked. The question hit me like a Mack truck. What was he wearing? I had carefully planned out every outfit for my children for the whole week, so they could be wearing their favorite characters on their shirts as they met them in real life. What was he wearing? I had no idea! The tears came quickly. "Umm.. I don't know... wait, Buzz. He had Buzz and Woody on his shirt!" "What was the color of the shirt?" I couldn't think! I had no idea what the color of the shirt was. The park employee put the walkie talkie up to her mouth... then paused.

She was looking out past me, towards the building to the far left of the square. "Ma'am? That woman is walking with a little boy who looks pretty upset. Is that him?" I turned to look, far across the square in the opposite direction of where I had been looking, and spotted another park employee walking and holding hands with a little boy wearing a gray shirt with Buzz and Woody on it. Carl Lewis would have had nothing on me as I sprinted top-speed across the seemingly five mile wide courtyard that separated me from my child. When he locked eyes on his momma running towards him, he broke into a run towards me, we collided in tears and just held each other for a long time. I could hear our other family members arrive on the scene, tension fading into sheer joy and relief.



I was constantly looking over my shoulder for the remainder of the trip, making sure both kids were never farther than two feet away from me. We had a wonderful vacation, and made many fun memories while journeying through the magical world of Disney. But it was hard for me to relax after that experience of losing Jack. The fear of losing one of the boys again had settled in to stay (which, in fairness, I should add that just two hours after we found Jack, we lost him again in the Honey I Shrunk the Kids playground. He was found a little quicker that time.)

Fear. It has the power to grip you, take control, consume and destroy. It devours hope, breeds panic and paralyzes our faith. I recently had another encounter with fear, that left me completely incapacitated.

A few weeks ago Eric was leading a 9 day mission trip to Haiti. In the past, when Eric has been away on trips, very bad things have happened (one of which was an F5 tornado that leveled houses less than a 1/2 mile away from our home, and later became known as part of the deadliest tornado outbreak in history, so I'm not exaggerating when I say that very bad things happen when he is gone.) The first five days of Eric's absence weren't too bad at all. The boys and I were having fun. I was attempting to fill Daddy's shoes with wrestling matches and tickle fights. I sustained minor injuries. But all week long, I had that sense of foreboding... I knew something was going to happen while Eric was away. I just knew it. As the week progressed, I noticed an increasing discomfort in my upper back, under my arm, down my arm... and in one of my breasts. I tried not to think about it because when I allowed myself to go "there" I felt pangs of panic and fear jab me in the gut. I hosted a dinner for all the moms and their kiddos that were "left behind" that week, as means of drawing on each other for support. A conversation about one of the women's friends who was recently diagnosed with cancer left me feeling very uneasy. I went to bed that night, with pain in my breast and back, and anxiety everywhere else.

The following night, after a day of extreme discomfort, I decided to do a self exam. I put the boys down for the night, walked into my room, lay down on my bed and with my arm overhead, I began nervously feeling for lumps. And I found one. My heart may have stopped beating. Lord, am I feeling this correctly? Is this really a LUMP? I kept circling my fingers, around and around. There was no mistaking it. Yes. I had found a lump.

I couldn't move. I lay on the bed, sobbing into my hand that was clamped over my mouth. So THIS is the bad thing that is going to happen while Eric is gone? I find out that I have CANCER? Lord, this is what you want for me? I couldn't stop the paralyzing thoughts. They came full force, taking me through my future and what my short life would be like. My mind was an out of control freight train headed for a cliff. And then it turned on me. The thoughts in my head were accusatory, full of blame and despair. That is when the shame came. SHAME.

Now, I need to interject, that in my honesty here, I am disclosing how fear had completely taken over my thought life. This pattern of thinking was unhealthy and honestly in hindsight, just plain ridiculous. But I was alone - my husband was gone and unreachable except through text message and the last thing I wanted to do was cause him to worry when he was focusing on serving the poor in another country - and left to only the lies that Fear was hurdling at me. For four days I was stuck in my head, assuming the worst. When my husband came home, I shared my news with him. He held me and prayed for me, but he wasn't worried. It actually angered me that he wasn't worried. Didn't he care that I might only have six months to live? I was a broken mess. I couldn't last much longer like this.

I began to fervently pray for peace. Jesus, just hold me. Wrap me in peace. Please, I just need your peace. I had scheduled a doctor's appointment for a few days after Eric's return. Every morning since I had found the lump I had awoken to an upset stomach and pangs of anxiety rippling through me. The day before my scheduled appointment, I woke up calm. How can I feel this calm? Jesus, is this your peace? Peace that passes understanding? In this moment, a Bible verse came to mind that I had learned way back in the Sunday school days... "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding." (Proverbs 3:5). For the remainder of the day, every time I felt a pang of fear rising up within me, I prayed. Lean not on your own understanding. I repeated those words over and over again. I didn't know what was happening. But God did.

The next day included a doctor's visit, quickly followed with a mammogram and ultrasound. The radiologist quickly determined that it was a cyst. A CYST. I lay on the table taking in the very good news. After he left the room, I just lay there for a few minutes. I was so relieved, but so heart broken as well. Some women don't get the news I just received. This could have gone in a completely different direction.

Fear. It's my Achilles' heel. My biggest personal point of weakness. With one swift shot fear can take me down to the ground, rendering me paralyzed and blind. I leaned on my own understanding, which is so very, very limited. When fear had a grip on me that day in Disney World, I couldn't even remember what my child was wearing. In precious moments when that information was vital, I was rendered useless. For 6 days after I discovered the lump I was a hot mess, unable to focus on anything but myself and the potential for what was to come. My focus shifted from praying for my husband who was overseas, to begging for a miracle. In an instant, I went from trusting God with my husband's life as he put himself in potential danger, to doubting His sovereignty over my own life.

I have learned a lot from this experience. The first, is that when I pray for peace, God will grant it. I have no doubt that He governed my thoughts that day before my appointment. God spoke through my husband in his prayers, and He calmed my spirit. I had become a wild horse... and He began a new work in me, training me and making me usable all over again.

The second thing I learned is that there are very good reasons for going through these hardships. Just last week I received an emergency alert on my phone - an Amber Alert had been issued for my area. I immediately was brought back to the fear I felt on that sunny day in Orlando. I dropped to my knees and prayed for the child and family who were concerned in the matter at hand. I knew exactly what to pray for, for I knew what it felt like to not know if your child was safe. After I received the news that I was physically ok, and that everything I had imagined was not actually going to come to pass at this time, my heart broke for my friend's friend who has just recently received the news of cancer in her body. Ever since, I have been praying and weeping for a woman whom I have never even met, for I got a glimpse of the fear that accompanies such uncertainty.

I recall a Beth Moore study I did on Daniel years ago. She described three scenarios when we face trials - we can be delivered from the fire, we can be delivered through the fire, or we can be delivered by the fire into God's arms. I firmly believe God gives us these circumstances where we are standing so close to a blazing fire that has the capability to consume us - and then He rescues and delivers us for a crucial reason. We are given an up close and personal glimpse of the fire so that it will grow our compassion for those who actually have to walk through it. Trusting God through these terrifying moments not only delivers us from fear of the unknown, but builds our faith for moments when we do have to walk through the fire - still trusting that He is with us every step of the way.

The Cost of Obedience

Hello. My name is Heather. And I'm a mom.

My three and five year olds are the two most rambunctious, inquisitive, smart, perceptive, and beautiful little boys I have ever laid eyes on. They willingly embrace me throughout the day, nuzzling their little heads into my belly as they wrap their arms around my hips, looking up at me with their innocent sparkling blue eyes, with smiles sprawled across their faces. The highlights of my day, every day. So precious.

The following is a common conversation that my husband and I have as he walks in the door after a long day at work.

The husband - "Hey honey, how was your day?"
The momma (as she is stirring the pasta sauce at the stove) - "Pretty good, how was yours?"
The husband - "Good! What was the highlight of your day?"
The momma (her heart swelling at the thought of those warm and fuzzy moments) - "Gabe fell asleep in my arms today, so we snuggled for a long time." OR "We spent a while reading and snuggling in the pillow fort we made in the playroom." OR "The boys were extra lovey and silly today, so we just had fun laughing about everything."
The husband - "So... they were good for you today?"
The momma (still at the stove but now turning and looking at her husband in the eyes) - "Oh, just wait until you hear this... you may want to grab a beer first."

The frigid winter months do not aid in the development of peaceful interactions between preschoolers. When the wind chill is -50 and school is repeatedly cancelled, it is next to impossible to keep coming up with ideas (and energy) to keep these boys entertained. I regularly feel like I am a referee at a never ending jiu-jitsu match. "Stop screaming!" "Don't hit your brother!" "Give him his toy back!" "That was NOT a nice thing to say!" "It is NOT ok for you to throw your food on the floor!" This is my dialogue. Every day.

As the mother of these two little boys whom I love with an indescribable adoration, I am not simply scolding them when they do something wrong. I am lovingly coaching them through life, attempting to teach them how to make better choices, how to appropriately resolve conflict, and most importantly - how to obey. As parents, teaching our children how to obey is probably THE most important life skill we can offer them.

There is always a standard in place, a set of expectations, and laws that require obedience. A small child is not only required to obey his parents but also his teachers and his babysitters - and rules established by these figures of authority. At 16 our kids become law-abiding citizens with every turn of the steering wheel (I think my blood pressure just went up as I typed that). As we send our kids off to college (gulp) we hope and pray that our children still hold themselves to the same moral standard we instilled in them for 18 years. And after that... they are held accountable by their bosses, landlords, credit card companies, banks, churches... We are ALWAYS going to have to serve somebody. There is always someone that will hold us accountable to something. The most powerful man in the world and the most lawless one will still have to answer to someone.

I recently put Jack in a time out for disobeying me. After his time out had ended, he came up to me and angrily said, "I am going to turn you into a boy!" "Why?" I asked. "Actually, I am going to turn EVERY girl into a boy! Because girls are always taking my control away!" At this I laughed, but it really got me thinking. Isn't that what obedience is all about? Submitting control to a greater authority? I think its easy to view the consequences of disobedience as motivators for obedience. And, if I am being honest, my moral code holds me accountable in most situations where simple obedience is required. But Jack's comment prompted me to think about obedience in a different way. There is a definite consequence for disobedience. But obedience also has a cost.

The stage was set. March 28, 2003. 6:00 pm. Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. I was standing in a heart-shaped circle of lit candles, in the center of a boathouse overlooking a quiet lake. The sun was setting and light rain was dancing on the roof. Christmas lights twinkled in the rafters. Eric Clapton's Wonderful Tonight was softly playing. My sweet boyfriend was before me on one knee, his arm extended, holding out a beautiful shiny promise in his hand.

That was an easy YES. I didn't have to think about it. It was one of the most life-changing decisions I have ever made, and the answer was a no-brainer. As one who has a history of extreme indecisiveness, this was a huge feat. I have faced many life-altering decisions since then, and my answers have been harder to discern. These days, saying YES to God as an act of obedience is a lot more difficult.

YES to being a stay at home mom.
YES to moving to Illinois and becoming a farmer's wife.
YES to accepting difficult circumstances and walking through them knowing that God's design and timing of all things are perfect, planned and meant to prosper me.

The cost of the YES - leaving a job that I loved. Moving far away from my family. Leaving my comforts of Starbucks, Super Target, and outdoor shopping centers with splash pads, P.F. Chang's, and Maggie Moo's. Changes in the dynamics of my relationships. A shift in my expectations of what I thought was to come. Shake-ups in my reality. Unanticipated hardships, obstacles and set backs.

In Luke 9:23, Jesus tells us, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me." Flash forward to John 19:17 - John tells us that Jesus carried his own cross to the place of the Skull, where he was crucified. Before his death, Jesus instructed his followers to take up their own crosses. He warned us that a life following him would be anything but a cake walk. We are to pick up our crosses DAILY. Daily we will meet hardships, difficult choices and feel the heavy weight of the cross we bear. BUT.

"As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete."  John 15:9-11

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."  John 16:33

There is a definite cost when we choose obedience to God's calling - the cost being control over our own lives. When we say YES to God, we ultimately say NO to ourselves and allow Him the right and authority to mold us, use us, tune us, humble us, and teach us however He sees fit. But I rest on His Word in Jeremiah 29:11, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." The cost of obedience is NOTHING compared to the promise He has for me. The benefits of His never ending love, complete joy and peace that passes understanding are rewards I don't want to miss out on!

As I think back on the image of Eric on one knee, extending his hand to me, with a ring and a promise, I can easily see God doing the same with me every day of my life. Every morning, He extends me His right hand, holding it out for me to grab hold of. He whispers, "I love you, Heather. Choose Me today." He waits patiently for an answer, never wavering in His proposal, the promise of new mercies, hope, love, joy and peace ready for me to embrace for all the days of my life.

All I have to do is say YES.