Blessed beyond measure, I have the opportunity to serve at my church as the Director of Women’s Ministry. Check out our Blog at CCVInspireWomen.com
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Recently I had the chance to be Alice in Wonderland for a few hours. I rose at dawn, slipped into the robin-blue dress and tied on the crisp white apron. I pulled on a pair of white tights, buckled my black patent leather shoes–poof–I was “Alice”.
I spun around and curtsied at myself in the mirror. I was on my way to “The UnTea”, our church’s version of a Mad Hatter’s Tea party, I made a quick stop at Starbucks. Energized from costume, I was delighted when the cashier playfully wrote “Alice” on my cup. I paid for my drink and asked for a banana. I was the hostess this morning, along with my partner in Ministry…the Queen of Hearts. There was no telling when we would get to enjoy the Queen’s Breakfast Buffet to which our guests would be treated. It was definitely a good idea to eat a banana.
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As I dig through the container, I find myself knee deep in the treasures when I come across some art work that was done by my other children through the years. As they navigated their way through their own understanding of death, their art projects often expressed the thoughts that they couldn’t always communicate with their words. I unfold a picture painted by my then six-year-old daughter, Emily, and I cannot help but gasp. It has a pink heart that says, “I love Molly” and what appears to be roses on a grave. But what stabs at my heart is what she has written in the top corner. The word, “No” is written twice. And then, each word has been crossed out with an ‘X’. How many times did I feel the same “No”? How many times did I long to say, “No. This is not what I choose.”
I’m so overwhelmed I don’t feel like I can finish what I’ve started. It doesn’t matter how far I have come, and the strides that I have made–it’s too much to complete the task. The finish line is too far away. The weights are too heavy. I’m gonna quit.
I’m not going to lie; there was time when I made judgments about the people I was serving. At the time, I worked at a well known steakhouse as a Food Server. While I did my job to the best of my ability—it didn’t stop me from being critical of the people who frequented the restaurant.
Last January, I noticed that there were a couple of rocks missing from my garden. Now, mind you, this is not a rock garden, but a flower garden—but the rocks added their own bit of character. When the rocks began to disappear, I suspected that perhaps my neighbors were stealing the mini-boulders. (I’m fairly certain they murdered my cat and hid her body, so…what’s to stop them from taking a few useless rocks?)
Last November the Local Outreach Department of my church asked my family to be the hosts for a Thanksgiving Day Outreach to our local Sheriffs Department. The Outreach Pastor wanted a few families to take a turkey dinner, with all the fixings, and share a meal with the men and women who work the holiday. Because of the shift the Deputies work, they often miss out on the chilly November day overeating tradition that many of us enjoy.
In a restless state, I woke this morning before my alarm and stared out my window at the overcast sky. The decision I needed to make was weighing on my mind. Silently, I began to pray to God, “Do I keep my blog up & running? Is blogging really worth the effort and the expense? Do You even care about this silly, little hobby of mine?”
In a recent interview I was asked to share my earliest memory. I recounted the story of when I was hospitalized at age four with pneumonia. I was sitting in a bed behind the walls of a clear plastic tent, and I was holding a doll I had received from a visitor. Through the plastic I could see the image of my Father quite clearly. He was sitting in a wheelchair and he was wearing a thick, red, terry-cloth robe. He was also a patient in the hospital. He had been working construction and had survived a remarkable fall. He fell from the fourth story window, and hit some scaffolding which knocked him back into the third story window.
XXX Church is a ministry that is highly effective in reaching women who have been pulled deep into the world of pornography, and it also is a place of recovery and accountability for people whose lives have been affected by addiction to pornography. Recently I authored a blog post entitled 
Seriously, what these women shared IS the message of the Gospel. Some of the girls who are traveling this summer still have fundraising needs. If you can help–don’t hesitate. (email 
