Tag Archives: Mothers of Preschoolers

Tackling fears . . .

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This past week has been one where I have really felt God molding and shaping me.  None of what that first sentence entailed was easy.  A week ago, I travelled and spoke to a M.O.P.S. (Mothers of Preschoolers) group.  During the talk, I shared that sometimes I call my friends whom I know utilize the same devotional books as me to ask them what the words were on their pages.  I just need reassurance that God had the same words written for everyone because they seem to be uniquely tailored to my needs.   Just one place where I have heard God’s whisper this week. . .

Next came the book I was reading.  Beyond Tuesday Morning written by Karen Kingsbury was one that I desired to read but have had sitting at my house for seven years.  I am a little ashamed to admit that because it just shows how easily my day is shifted away from doing something I enjoy like reading.  In the story, the main character comes face-to-face with dealing with her life and her reliance on fear in every decision she has made since a tragic loss in her life.  The ensuing words were as if the floor of my bedroom opened up and I began to fall, tumbling into the abyss.  I sat and cried for what seemed like hours.  God whispered again . . .

Even though God whispered, I did a lot of talking . . . to him.  I realized that since the bus crash I had fallen into patterns of fear that were, at times, keeping me from living.  My fears are real (to me), and they have kept me catching my breath for years.  I am the mother of seven children, but only three of them live with me.  I have survived the deaths of four of my children, but I do not wish to endure that agonizing pain again.  While I don’t want to smother life out of my kids, their every move in the world sometimes paralyzes me.  I shared with God my deeply rooted fear of failure.  I am not sure where that comes from, but I do have a strong desire to succeed in God’s plans, (and I am my worst obstacle).  There are other fears that God (and others) knows about that have kept me from fully engaging in life.

During our quiet time together, I realized what my fears really said about my faith.  My fears said I didn’t quite believe that God was who he said he was and is.  That was a sobering fact to face. Thankfully as I shed tears and handed over control, I felt like a rock was lifted from my soul. I literally felt lighter – almost buoyant.  God collected my tears in his bottle and lifted me up. . .

My "Reed's" graduation gift last year. A bottle symbolizing my beloved Bible verse Psalm 56:8 and that God will replace my tears with stars in the skies.

My “Reed’s” graduation gift last year. A bottle symbolizing my beloved Bible verse Psalm 56:8 and that God will replace my tears with stars in the skies.

Apparently, I have the most the routine behaviors, because that cathartic afternoon was a topic of unexpected conversations with two of my friends.

Daily I get a text message from one in the inner circle asking for my prayer requests for the day.  Usually I respond with the one intercession most pressing on my heart, but that day I listed “a prayer of thanks for a lesson about fear”.   Although her phone call was not immediate, it did come ringing the alarm bells that afternoon.

“What in the mayonnaise is going on?  Are you okay? What has happened? I am worried.”

I assured her I was just fine. Giddy, actually! I simply wanted to relish in praise and thanksgiving for God completely changing my thinking.  I shared how I felt like a new person, and that I was finally ready to ‘fess up my fears to God, letting him take control of those things holding me back.

A few days later I ran into another circle friend whose words caught me by surprise.  Right there in the cracker aisle at Mecca of the South, she exclaimed, “What has happened to you?  Something’s different! Even the color has come back to your face!”

Wow!  That was a glowing review!  I am choosing to focus on the positive (And NO! I don’t want to know what I looked like before.)  In just a few words I summed up what she clearly saw, “I’m letting go of fear”.

Today as I was completing my devotions which I was woefully behind, again I was humbled by the message reverberating for my soul.

[The next step is to introduce them to Me (insert: Jesus), enabling me to embrace them in My loving Presence.] (Jesus Calling by Sarah Young)

Although I didn’t weep this time, I was much lighter in spirit when I said, “Hello fear.  Let me introduce you to my Jesus.”

I don’t think that I will be fear free ever in my life, but I am choosing this day to live mindful that I can turn my fears, doubts, worries, and insecurities over to God and his Son.  I think this is the beginning of something amazing in my life, and it is my heart’s desire that is for you as well.  Here’s hoping God is whispering into your world today!

Author’s note:  I have heard this song a few times on Christian radio.  Music often stirs my soul.  If you watch the video, it gives a good visual of what control I have allowed fear in my life.  Even better yet, you will see how God has plans to restore or in the case of the video reverse that pattern.  I may always be a wistful optimist, but I truly believe that our heart’s songs rise straight to God’s ears!

Tears of Joy

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photo found at buzzle.com

photo found at buzzle.com

Two months ago, I had the opportunity to speak at a church not far from my hometown.  I spoke on the topic of forgiveness – which is a draining conversation we all need to hear. So moved by the experience, it has taken me this long to be able to put into words the transformation that took place in my life that day.

I did write about my experience with God in the Wal-mart bathroom that afternoon (http://kandynolesstevens.com/2013/04/17/just-when-i-thought-i-was-safe/) but something much larger occurred that I have kept hidden in my heart until now.  Something I didn’t know would ever be possible again.

I will confess that I did not ask one important question prior to the talk.  I had spoken at several MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) groups previously, and each had the same format.  I spoke for about forty-five minutes, after which the mommas broke into small groups for discussion and prayer.  (The old adage about assuming applied here because this group expected me to talk for about an hour and half.)

I shared my talk on forgiveness, and it is an exhausting story.  Being an innate hugger, I often want to stop and hug the women in the audience when they are crying at my retelling of events.  They are crying with me and for me because my life story has touched something deep in their soul.

I know my story is powerful  . . . even I am moved to tears at times when I speak because it is a challenge to look out and see no dry eyes.  It is at those moments I realize that, “Wow God!  I really did live this, and with your help we survived.”

When I realized that they desired for me to keep talking, I politely asked if I could share where my family was today and about how God was using our story.  I shared about my children’s progress emotionally and physically. Then, I revealed snippets of my upcoming book, Notes from a Grieving Momma.

At the end, I opened the floor to questions.  After hearing my story of forgiveness, I knew there would be many (why at the other MOPS events, I linger to answer, to hug, and to offer encouragement).  It is difficult to describe that you could feel like you were catching-up with old friends whom you haven’t seen in a while when I was talking to strangers, but in God’s family the bonds grow strongly and quickly.  We have a common Father, and we can sometimes skip over the small talk.

Then came the question that caused my knees to buckle.  “You will let us know when we can pick up a copy of that book, right?” Followed by, “Please make sure that we can get a copy easily – this is a small town after all.” When I looked around the room every face was now smiling and nodding.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

As if on cue, immediately following my talk, my cell phone rang.  The caller was the other person who could give these talks if he at all cared to speak in front of others – he does not – but his perspective would be equally life changing.  My sweet husband waited patiently, timing when to call and ask, “So how did it go?”

I told him about the wonderful food, the engaged audience of mommas, meeting their adorable babes, the gift of love they gave me . . .

and then,  I burst into tears.

I could hear in his voice concern.  He knows the story having walked alongside me each step of the way.  Was I crying because it was such a hard topic? Was I crying because I once again went back and relived it? What brought on the torrential downpour of salinated drops?

It took me a few moments before I could put it into one word.

Joy!

Joy? I could tell from his voice that he had bigger concerns like had I lost my mind.

You know when God tells us that he wants – NO!  he YEARNS – to give us the desires of our hearts, He MEANS IT.  That day I knew what that felt like.  Every synapse in my brain, every cell in my body, and every stirring of my soul was alive with God’s message for my life.

He allowed my faux pas to be used in a way that spoke loudly and clearly to my heart.  I knew from early on that God does not give void to those whom he loves, and I knew that some way somehow God was going to use the pain of our lives’ stories to help others.   How else would any of this make sense?

I knew never that it would come in the form of my desire to be a blessing to others.  I never knew how deeply I needed the affirmations of strangers (now sisters) to tell me that God wants my (well, our) book and ministry to touch the lives of others.

I sat in my van, sobbing, confessing to my husband that flood gates to my heart had been opened – because even I didn’t know if I would ever truly be able to cry tears of joy again.

It was an amazing feeling!