Denny's booths are Comfortable

I just had the most amazing weekend.  I have so many thoughts, feelings, and emotions that I want to share about this past weekend but some of that is going to have to wait.  First of all, I need to process.  Second...it's just too much.

I did want to take a minute to share a story that some of you may not know.  The reason I am going to share it is because Pam told me to.  Pam is a new Legacy Collective friend that I met this past weekend.  We were touring Community First Village (which will need a whole blog post of its own), and we came upon another couple looking at one of the canvas houses.  Pam and Dr. Pam (or Tom..but you know...whatever) and Leanna and I struck up a conversation about the homeless population.  We talked about how there are so many assumptions that are made about the homeless population.  How a lot of Americans assume that drug addiction is the reason everyone is homeless.

Then for some crazy reason...I decided to share about the season of my life that I lived on the streets.
When I was 19-20ish, There was a short period of time where I was homeless.  In an attempt to run from the hurts and pains of my past, I had turned to alcohol.  I wanted to live life as numb as I could.  I was struggling to maintain my sanity.  I was full of anger at the world and I felt lost. I wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere which meant I was making bad decisions and hanging out with other people who were full of anger and felt lost.

I had been living in an apartment with a co-worker who was taking the rent money and paying her car payment instead and eventually we lost our apartment.  I began bouncing from friend's couch to friend's couch.  Never really staying anywhere too long.  I couldn't stand being around people but I also couldn't stand to be alone.  It was a pretty tough time.  Eventually, my friends were tired of me sleeping on their couches and spending any money I had on alcohol.  Before too long...I had nothing left but my car.

I had a few friends who needed rides from time to time so I would trade rides to work for a hot shower or a pack of cigarettes. Some would let me park in their parents' driveway for the night so I would have a safe place to put my seat back and rest.  I eventually discovered that the Denny's parking lot was a super safe place to park at night.  They were open 24 hours and the parking lot was well lit.  My brother and his girlfriend both worked there.  Just to be clear, they had no clue that I was homeless.  I was too embarrassed to tell them.  Anyway....it gets SUPER COLD in Kansas City in the dead of winter.  I would pull into the Denny's parking lot about midnight and run the heater on full blast to get the car as warm as possible.  Then I would shut off the car, to conserve gas, and crawl into the hatchback and go to sleep.  When I woke up cold, I would climb in the front and warm the car up again.  I had been doing this for quite a few weeks.  Every night, warm up the car, sleep, warm up the car, sleep.

One night, I was in the back of the car sound asleep when someone started pounding on the window.  I was terrified.  When I opened my eyes, the Denny's Manager was telling me to get out of the car.  I was so sure that he was going to tell me that I had to leave.  He just smiled at me and said, "It is entirely too cold for you to be out here.  Please come inside."  I followed him inside and he took me through the restaurant to the banquet area in the back room.  He let me know that the booths were really comfortable and that I should lay down and get some rest.  He would shut the door to the banquet room and no one would know I was in there.  I half-slept that night, listening to every noise, thinking that someone was going to find me in there and wonder what I was doing.  About 6am, he came into the room and brought me some hot chocolate, pancakes, and bacon.  He said that I needed to be out by 6:30 before the day shift came in but I was welcome back at midnight on any night that he worked.

I only needed that room for a few more weeks.  This man ended up giving me a job at Denny's and I eventually asked my brother if I could stay with him for a while while I got back on my feet.  I don't remember his name, but I will never ever forget his kindness.

This man taking the time to let me know that I mattered, changed something deep inside of me.  Did his actions heal the brokenness in my spirit?  No...I would find out later that I would need Jesus for that. I believe that the manager probably didn't think much of what he did for me.  It was just in his character to love on people.

So here I was, standing at the door of this canvas house sharing this story with my new friend Pam.  Standing there as a person that God had redeemed.  Standing there as living proof that sometimes all someone needs is to know that they matter and that there are people that are FOR them.  Standing there feeling overwhelmed with the knowledge that God has made beauty from the ashes of my life  and provided a way for me to pour that love back into the world.  Pam told me, "You need to share this story today and share it a lot".  I didn't get the opportunity to share it again on Saturday but here it is.  The manager could have easily asked me to leave the property, but instead, he let me know that he was FOR me.  May we be those who are FOR and not against those who just need to know that they matter.  I will leave you with this song from Jason Gray - If You Want To Love Someone.

The Truth....In Love

This concept of speaking the truth, in love has really been on my mind lately.

Ephesians 4:15-16 says "Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow, so that it builds itself up in love."

In the past few months, heck, really, in all of the years I've been a Christian, I've seen this phrase used by Christians to justify their condemnation of other people and their actions.  I have found in my own experience that most people who have "spoken the truth, in love" have actually just defended their beliefs and shouted from the rooftops that they are right and the other person is wrong.  End of Story.

There is a time and place for needing to speak some hard truths to a friend who you see heading in a wrong direction.  Guess what??  You need to earn that right.  Guess what else??  This is where the IN LOVE part comes in.  You CANNOT speak the truth "in love" to someone that you have no love for..and I am not talking about "love the sinner, hate the sin" kind of love.  I'm talking about the "rejoice when you rejoice, weep when you weep" type of love.  The kind of love where you know their story and they know yours and they know that your words are coming from a place of care and concern and NOT condemnation.

1 Corinthians 13:1 says, "If I speak human or angelic languages but do not have love, I am a sounding gong or a clanging cymbal."

Think about a sounding gong or a clanging cymbal.  ANNOYING right....they might be tolerated the first couple of times but then the noise gets old.  We should be a beautiful melody to those who God has allowed to cross our paths.  Love is the note that we need to play.  

1 John 3:18 says, "Little children, we must not love with word or speech, but with truth and action."

Notice how John points out that we don't show love by our words and speech. We have to be love.  We have to be the one that shows up when someone is moving and is asking for help.  We need to show up when someone is experiencing loss.  We need to show up when those we love are headed down a path of destruction.  We need to show up when someone just needs to know you are FOR them and not against them.

Did you know that God works out salvation for different people in different ways?  I know...shocking right.  God made us all different.  We all have different stories, different scars, different life experiences, so God must work on us all differently.  Do you think that if someone hasn't acknowledged God's existence that God isn't working in them just the same?  If your "truth, in love" is pushing someone further from God, it isn't love.

It is Finished....for now

I just submitted my very last assignment for my Bachelor's degree in Business Leadership and I wanted to take a moment to reflect on this accomplishment.  I have been in school since August 22, 2011.  I had a million reasons for going back to school, but mainly just to prove to myself that I could.  Part of me wanted to prove to the kids that anything was possible if they were willing to put their mind to it.  When I started school, I had a pretty stressful job that required a little bit of travel.  That job turned into a very stressful job with a whole LOT of travel.  I persevered though.  Sometimes it was setting an alarm at 2am in the UK so that I could meet with the learning team at 8pm their time.  Sometimes it was attempting for 3 hours to get an internet connection while working in Sao Paulo, Brazil just so I could submit an assignment.

 I couldn't have done it without a lot of help.  Sarah Carter reviewing my Algebra homework when I thought I was lost. Christa talking me through every single ounce of my Accounting - even from a long distance.   Jean and Lynn talking me through financial questions - the only thing that I know about margins are that they run down the edge of the paper and also for writing recommendation letters that got me into school in the first place (can you say Academic Probation).  Numerous people calling in favors to get me someone to interview.  Vivian letting me drill her about how she leads her team.  Theresa spelling out how she leads her team and for telling me that Beautiful should always have a capital B.  Tom and Mark who wrote me letters verifying my learning so I could get credit for a class. Rachelle, who was one of my biggest champions and always made me feel like it was a done deal.   Millie and Sarah who had to listen to me complain incessantly about this teacher or that teacher or school in general every day at lunch (or at least the days I was in town).  My mama for letting me know that she believed I could do it.  My friends at DC who encouraged and supported me and understood when I had to beg out of something because I had homework.  To the mafia, the majority of which have been battling school right along side of me, I could never have done it without each and every one of you cheering loudly for me.  To my boys..who have had to put up with a Papa Holly who is overworked and overwhelmed.  Thank you for putting up with me and loving me anyway.  Leanna, there are no words for the undying love and support that you have given me every step of the way. Watching you start and finish your Master's degree was inspiring.  Thank you for allowing me the space and freedom that I needed to be successful, even if it meant that I didn't pick up my stuff laying around the house.  Thank you for all of the work that you did getting us ready for Florida so that moving 1200 miles from home didn't get in the way of my ability to complete my assignments.  Thank you for always being willing to talk through my assignments when I was so stuck that tears were running down my face.

My biggest thanks goes to God.  Thank you for dragging me out of the pit that I was living in and giving me new life.  Thank you for giving me a renewed spirit and a refreshing of my mind that allowed me to believe that even a college degree was possible for me.  You allowed me to see that if I let You, You will stretch and grow me in ways that I couldn't fathom.   You have taught me to dream bigger than I ever thought possible.  You have given me clarity that all of this learning is going to be used to further your kingdom and not just to further my career.  That makes it all worth it.

For anyone I missed, just know that I thank you.  If you've ever stopped and said a prayer for me, or sent me a note of encouragement on Facebook, or celebrated my accomplishments...it has meant the world to me.  Now...I must go hold my breath until my final grade comes out. :)  oh...and take a nap.

You Just Have to Ask Him

With Father's day just behind us, thoughts of my Dad have been on my heart the past few weeks.  I kept feeling like I needed to share the story of how God healed my heart and my "Daddy" issues in ways I couldn't have imagined.  I am finishing up my last weeks of school, trying to running a direct sales business, investing with a group of like minded folks to point a big gun at social issues...generally super busy as usual.  The other day, this popped up in my time hop, and I was reminded that I needed to share the story.

I couldn't believe that it has been four years already.  I had a chance to reflect last night on the work that God has done in my heart in those past four years.  Let me start by sharing parts of a letter I sent out to "my people" asking for prayer in Nov. 2011.  It tells the first part of the story.

"Somewhere around June of 2010, God started working on knocking down the wall around my heart labeled 'Dad'.  My Mom and Dad were divorced when I was 10 months old.  I didn't know my Dad growing up and didn't meet him until I was 21.  I didn't really talk to him at that point though, as the walls were up and I was full of anger.  Over the past 2 years, God would slowly reveal things to me that caused me to look at my Dad differently than I previously had.  Nothing too profound, just an awareness that what I thought was the truth, probably wasn't.  I felt like God was asking me to reach out to my Dad.  I am stubborn, and don't often do what God tells me to right up front.  I have to fight with Him for a while.  My Grandpa had abdominal surgery in Nov. 2010 where it was discovered that he had colon cancer.  The night of his surgery, I stayed with him, by myself, at the hospital all night.  That was the best and most healing night I'd ever spent with my Grandpa.  We talked A LOT about my childhood and my family.  He revealed things to me that I had never known.  My Grandpa talked quite a bit about my Dad.  I could feel God nudging me that night, reminding me that He wanted me to reach out to my Dad.  I ignored Him.  I wasn't ready to face that demon just yet.  The next few months were spent holding my Grandpa's hand while he passed away.  

That was a life changing time in my life.  God kept working on my heart and I kept telling Him to leave me alone.  In mid-May, I was sitting outside at the picnic table having lunch with my lunch friends.  A friend who rarely comes to lunch joined us.  On the way back to the building, she says, "You've really been on my heart lately, Holly Waugh".  I don't think I have many friends who can just say my first name.  Now, when she said this, my heart just seized up.  That is because God consistently uses this friend to speak into my life when I am trying my best to ignore Him.  I like to pretend that I am not really hearing God and that I am just making up the things He wants me to do.  So here she is, getting ready to tell me about myself, so I just hold my breath.  She turns to me and says, "God want to heal your Daddy issues, all you have to do is ask Him."  Why it still surprises me every time she is dead on, I will never know.  She said a lot of other wise things and I just kept trying to play stupid.  I kept asking her which Daddy.  I have had 2 step-dads so I wanted to be sure.  Eventually I pressed her and she said that it had to do with a sense of loss and absence.  So now I knew that I knew that God wanted me to reach out to my Dad.  I didn't want to..so I didn't...and it ate at me.  It's one thing to be disobedient to God when you can convince yourself it's not Him and it's a whole other thing to KNOW that it's God and choose not to obey.  Towards the end of June, I was at church worshipping my face off.  That's when God likes to convict me and talk to me.  The next thing I know, I am sitting with my head in my hands bawling my eyes out.  I finally said, "Alright God, I surrender...Your will...not mine.  I have to believe that good will come of this or You wouldn't have me do it..so Okay!!"  I felt God say, "See...you've been worrying about this promotion that you want and I won't give it to you because if you can't be obedient in the things I ask of you, why would I give you more responsibility."  I felt such conviction and I apologized to God and promised that I would be obedient in what I felt He was calling me to do.  As I walked out of church that night, I received a text from my boss letting me know he'd secured the final approval to move me into my new position.  I just smiled, knowing that God was in control.   

I wrote a letter to my Dad and put it in the mail the first week of July.  I basically just told him about myself and apologized to him for the anger I'd felt towards him.  I let him know that I forgave him for making the decisions he did regarding his involvement in my life.  That I realized that there were circumstances that I didn't know about and that in the end, it didn't really matter.  I set no expectations but provided him a way to contact me if he felt like wanted to.  I sent the letter, and then I waited...and I waited...and then the devil started attacking me.  The devil beat me down and said things like "see, you aren't even worth him contacting you", "you really ARE worth nothing", "see, God doesn't care about you".  

I kept thinking about the story Pastor Michael told us one day about how lions take the oldest broken down lion with the loudest roar and have him get on one side of his prey while the rest of the pride crouch down on the other side.  The old broken down lion is like the devil, whose job it is to just roar really loud and scare you away from where you are trying to go and as you run away, you run right into the rest of the pride who are waiting to eat you.  So I kept thinking about how PMC told me that when that stupid old lion is roaring at me....I should run right at him because he's broken down and can't hurt me.  So that's what I did...I ran right at the devil.  I kept telling him that I did matter to God, and that God WAS in control..and I surrounded myself with some wise people.  Poor Leanna had to help me tackle the devil.  She told me, "Perhaps, this isn't about you..perhaps your Dad needed the letter more than you needed to write it."  Profound, I say.  When I could get the focus off me and realize that maybe my Dad had been living with the guilt that he needed to be released from, it made it easier.

Out of the blue, I got a message from my cousin on FB asking if I wanted to go have dinner with her and her sister and my Aunt.  This Aunt would be my Dad's sister.  I hadn't seen them for 15 years but I knew God wanted me to go meet with them.  I was super nervous but that dinner was exactly what I needed.  I found out that my Dad had some mental illness and was in an assisted living apartment.  I heard a lot of stories that contradicted things I had been told my whole life.  My immediate reaction was to be angry at my Mom.  I had to pray hard about that as I didn't want my forgiveness and healing for my father to transfer to anger at my Mom.  God got me through it as He always does.  He helped me to see that my Aunt's truth and my Mom's truth are different than God's truth.  So that brings me to today.

I apologize for the length of this e-mail as I rarely spill my heart out.  My cousin contacted me last week and let me know that my Dad would like to have dinner with me.  My Aunt Betty is hosting dinner at her house and my cousins and my Dad will be there.  Angie, (my cousin) let me know that I didn't have to come and there wasn't any pressure at all, she just wanted to put the invitation out there if it was something I felt comfortable with.  My immediate reaction was "NO..I can't do this right now."  Then God ever so gently let me know that I need to go.  So on Tuesday of this week, I am going to have dinner with my Dad...and I am scared.  I don't quite know what I am scared of..but my stomach has been flopping ever since I told my Aunt I was coming.  I need prayer...lots and lots of prayer.  I think this is the next step in the healing process for me.  I am so grateful for the healing that God has already provided to me and I am equally grateful that He uses the experiences and the healing from my childhood to speak into the lives of other hurting people.  My specific prayers are as follows: 1.  That I would have peace throughout dinner.  2.  That conversation wouldn't be strained. 3.  That I would say what God would have me say to bring healing to my Dad as well. 4.  That nothing I hear causes bitterness and anger towards others. 5.  Prayer of thanks for my Aunt and cousins who love me and are willing to facilitate dinner...and for making dinner gluten-free..and prayer for anything else you are lead to pray for."

The dinner happened...and it was good.  There were a couple of rough bits that took my breath away..but more on that later.

I could tell you that my obedience (however reluctant) was rewarded with total restoration in my relationship with Dad...but that would be a lie.  We only talked one more time after this picture was taken.  He died in September of last year.

You may be asking yourself why you have wasted your time reading through this super long blog post just to find out that my story didn't have a happy ending.  Well...my friends...that's why I decided to share it...it does have a happy ending..just not the one I had expected.

When you grow up without knowing who your Dad is...you come up with a million questions that you would ask him if you could.  I was lucky enough to finally get the opportunity to ask some of those questions to him.  I didn't always get the answer that I wanted and I'm not sure that any of the answers that I received were the truth but I got the opportunity to ask.  I got to learn a little about his life.  I got to learn a little about his marriage to my Mom (from His perspective only, of course).  I got a lot of things...but do you know best thing I got??  I got the realization and awareness that my Dad walking out on us had absolutely nothing to do with me.

God had given me the greatest gift.  I realized that, for whatever reason, my father was incapable of taking ownership of his own actions.  I realized that my father had paid the price for his decisions.  I realized that the little girl inside of me who had been longing to be loved by her father, was pretty okay now and didn't really need him.  I realized that the healing inside of me had only happened because I had a heavenly Father who loved me so unconditionally that He would let me hurt if it meant I would heal.  I allowed myself to feel all of the feelings, and having brought all of the hurt and bitterness out into the light, God was able to heal it all.

I am not sure why God is having me share this story.  It's a repeat for some of you, but I have to believe that someone out there needed to hear it.  Needed to know that healing can come to those hurting places deep in your spirit.  Those hurts that you keep to yourself because no one would understand it anyway.  God understands.  In the words of my very wise friend, "God wants to heal your "fill in the blank" issues, all you have to do is ask Him."
 

Wrestle It Out

Haven't had a lot to say in the past six weeks or so.  I've had a lot on my mind though.  As I was mowing the yard yesterday....yes..I said MOWING in March!!!  As I was mowing the yard yesterday, I was thinking back to something that a dear friend said to me about six months ago.  We had been talking about how hard the transition had been for me to move to Florida and I how nothing had turned out like I had expected it would.  We talked about how lonely I was and how much I'd been missing "home". I told her that I was really wrestling with God, trying to figure out His purpose behind everything.  Do you know what my friend and mentor said to me??  She said, that she envied the position that I was in.  What?!?!?!?  She explained that God had forced me into a position where I had no choice but to wrestle it out with Him.  I didn't have a friend nearby where I could go and cry on their shoulder about how unfair it all was.  I didn't have church commitments to keep me busy so that I could avoid dealing with the emotion of it all.  I had no choice but to work it out with Him.

I don't think I truly appreciated the blessing of the solitude.  As a matter of fact, at the time,  I was pretty irritated that she didn't just agree with me that it was all unfair.  So yesterday, I was reflecting on how absolutely right she was.  She generally is :)  I can look back on the past six months with a grateful heart.  I HAVE been able to wrestle it out with God.  He has given me a focus on Him unlike anything I've experienced before.

I am running a race..His race.  He is asking me to keep my eyes fixed solely on Him.  I'm used to looking for the finish line.  The target that I need to hit.  I keep running towards the finish line of a particular thing that I've felt God has asked me to do, and just when I think I am almost there, He moves the finish line.  He is teaching me to trust Him.  To stop focusing on what I think He wants...to stop trying to achieve success based on my own warped version of what that means.  He is teaching me to chase the desires of His heart.  I need to stay in my lane and keep moving forward looking only to Him for guidance.  No need to look to my left or my right as then I might feel like I need to compete with others running the race.  Their race is not my race.

Is there something in your life that is keeping you from fixing your eyes solely on Him? Do you feel like the finish line keeps getting moved on you?  I encourage you to get some quiet time and wrestle it out with Him.

 "Therefore, since we have such a large cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that so easily ensnares us.  Let us run with endurance the race that lies before us, keeping our eyes on Jesus, the source and perfecter of our faith...."  Heb. 12:1-2 HCSB