This morning God asked me tough question. He didn’t ask me, “What do you have?” He knows what I have. He’s given me everything I have, from my personal possessions to my talents to my dreams. God asked me, “What are you using?”

What am I using? God has given me a beautiful home. Am I opening it up and welcoming others in? Am I hosting Bible studies in it? Is it a warm and inviting place for friends to visit? Is it a safe haven for my husband and children? Am I using it for God?

God has given me a safe, reliable vehicle. Am I using it? Am I running errands in it for a sick friend? Am I picking up my children’s friends to take them to church? Am I using our family car rides as an opportunity to have chats with my kids? Am I filling it with Christian music? Am I taking advantage of those car rides alone to talk with God?

God has given me the ability and creativity to make and decorate cakes. Am I blessing others with my talent? Am I donating cakes to children in foster care? Am I welcoming new neighbors with a baked treat? Am I using my talent to show my family that I love them?

God has given me the dream of adopting more children. Am I educating myself on the process of adoption? Am I getting involved with organizations that provide foster care and adoption services? Am I sharing my dream with others? Am I doing anything to see that dream come true.

My list could go on and on and so could yours. What are you using? What do you have that you God wants to use? I guarantee if you ask Him, He’ll show you. And you won’t be disappointed.

I’m so thankful for ministries and organizations like the Missouri Baptist Children’s Home that take on the mission of reaching and helping teenage girls. The MBCH has a “transition home” that will help six teenage girls between the ages of 16 & 21 learn how to become independent young ladies. But they need help in preparing this home for the girls. They have 5 bedrooms (6 beds) and 3 bathrooms in this home that need a little TLC and lots of furnishings. You can help impact their lives in a BIG way. Here are the items we are collecting:

new twin sheets sets, pillows, pillow cases, bath towels, hand towels, wash cloths, bathroom rugs, bathroom trash cans, toothbrush holders, and shower curtains.

Items must be received by Sunday, April 22. I know this isn’t alot of time, but I also know WE CAN DO IT. Gift cards to Walmart or Target are also welcome- I’ll finish up the shopping with those cards. Please bring your items to the Sister 2 Sister table at church next Sunday. Questions? Find me on facebook: Heather Tabers or just call the church office at 636-327-8696. THANKS!

You will need:

9 hard boiled eggs, peeled and diced
1/2 cup mayo
2 tbsp mustard
1/2 tsp salt
1-2 dashes of worchesteshire sauce
1/4 cup sugar

I never measure anything, so these amounts aren’t exactly precise. Adjust more or less for your own taste. Mix all ingredients together and serve on your favorite sandwich bread or dollar rolls.

My husband left. He’s in the Army and he’s been sent on a 16 day mission for Homeland Security. And I hate being alone. I’m a pretty transparent person. I wear my heart on my sleeve and my life is an open book. But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t still things that people don’t know about me. For example, you probably had no idea that in the past I’ve battled depression, anxiety and abandonment in a MAJOR way. You probably don’t know that when my ex-husband (who was also in the Army) left on missions, I fell completely apart. In fact, you probably don’t know that one time when he left on a 2 week mission similar to the one my husband is currently on now, I had a major panic attack, shipped my kids off to my mom’s, and stayed in bed for 3 days, getting out of bed only long enough to run to the bathroom with dry heaves. You don’t know that about me because that’s the part of me that I don’t want people to know. I’m an Army wife. I’m supposed to be this pillar of strength. I’m a Christian. I’m supposed to trust God in every situation, and show the world that greater is He who is in me than he that is in the world. But I’m not that girl. I’m the girl that cries herself to sleep at night because she hates so badly to be alone. The day he left I held it together pretty well throughout the day. Getting up at 4am left me exhausted all day so when I started to get emotional, I blamed it on the fatigue. Throughout the day I mentally applauded myself for holding it together, for being stronger than I’ve been in the past, for finding the good in our time apart, for staying positive… for not crawling into bed and dry heaving. Later that evening, just before bedtime, I heard a mouse in our cabinet and I had a meltdown. It took everything in me not to call Bob and beg him to come home. Not that he could. But that’s what I wanted to do. I put the kids to bed, crawled into my bed, turned the TV on so I wouldn’t feel so alone, and I cried myself to sleep. Sunday morning I couldn’t wait to get to church so I wouldn’t feel so alone. But I got to Sunday School and my sister in law wasn’t there…. so I sat “alone,” feeling as if I didn’t “belong” to anyone, grateful at least for the friendly conversation of others. I dreaded the walk to the sanctuary. I hate sitting in worship alone. I reminded myself that God’s blessed me with my beautiful children and that I should thank Him for the opportunity to pay more attention to them and more deeply cultivate my relationships with them. And then Jayne walked in. Jayne, my sweet friend who usually goes to the first service let her kids sleep and came to the second service instead…. and found her way to the pew I was sititng in. I bawled my eyes out during the worship service because YES, I love Jesus… I love that He knows my insecurities when nobody else does and that He loves me enough to rearrange Jayne’s Sunday morning routine. I was so overwhelmed by that.  Of all the people in the sanctuary that she knows and loves, for whatever reason God led her to sit down next to me. What a reassurance it was for me that God loves me and will take care of me. I’ve been overwhelmed since the night before Bob left – overwhelmed with God’s goodness. Overwhelmed by His love. Even overwhelmed by how much God has given me the capacity to love Bob. Loving a soldier with PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) and TBI (traumatic brain injury) is a difficult task. Tender moments are rare, and yet God allowed us a period of raw vulnerability with each other the night before he left. Each day that He is gone, God gives me “just what I need” to make it through that day. Day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment. He gave me Jayne.  He gave me a smile from my daughter. He gave me a reminder of the night before Bob left. He gave me a random text message from Bob. My point is, it doesn’t matter where you are. It doesn’t matter where you’ve been. God’s grace is enough.

Yesterday morning I sat in Sunday School and I opened my Bible. A french fry fell out. It made me giggle. A few weeks ago we had eaten White Castles in the car after church, and apparently half of a french fry had fallen down to the floor board and into my Bible. Somehow, it had managed to be go undetected until yesterday morning. It made me laugh and I thought this is surely what a mom’s Bible looks like. As I turned the pages in my Bible, I saw my own selection of highlighted, starred, underlined and dated verses. I saw book marks. I saw a selection that I had drawn a box around in green crayon. I remembered the night I had done that. It was deep in the middle of the night when God had woke me up to pray for my husband while he was away. I found this particular passage of Scripture and, searching through my desk in the dark, all I was able to find was a green crayon. These verses always make me smile when I see them outlined in green. My heart and mind always go back to remembering God’s goodness and mercy when I remember that night.

What will my Bible say about me someday when my children read through it? Will they want it? Will it be something they treasure? Is my Bible (therefore also my relationship with Christ) something so beloved that it tells the story of who I am? I pray that you and I will draw closer to God and deeper into His Word, so that we may leave a legacy of love for God to all those who come in future generations. “May all who come behind us find us faithful.”

Sunday morning, our large family filed into a pew in the back of the church, got ourselves situated among our piles of coats, Bibles and drawings made in Sunday School, and settled in for the worship service. As the music started and the congregation began singing, I immediately felt my heart stirring. The words coming out of my mouth humbled me and I felt my hand raise in adoration to the One I was singing to. As tears welled up in my eyes, I felt the confused stare of my husband. I quickly blinked back the tears and put my arm back down. We’ve had this conversation before. Why am I  crying? What’s wrong? Why am I so emotional? As a former marine and an actively serving soldier with PTSD and TBI, my husband is completely foreign to the world of emotions that I live in. He says he’s the “conservative, quiet, kneal-when-you-pray Christian” and I’m the “crawl-up-on-his-shoulders-so-I-can-beat-you-in-the-head-with-my-Bible-better Baptist.” I reigned myself back in and sang along with the congregation, blending in with the crowd. In my mind, I was dancing before my King, and bowing before His throne. But in the back of that sanctuary, I was much more reserved.

As the music ended and the pastor came forward, I prayed that God would speak to my heart. I carefully took notes, citing all the verses our pastor made reference to. I laughed at his jokes. I nodded along in agreement. I clapped. I AMEN’ed. I shushed my kids. I nuzzled in closer to my husband in the pew. And then he said it. As if the pastor had been in my home and in my mind and in my heart, he said, “You have to keep your life centered around Christ! What is it that you think about all day? Who or what do you think about the most? Who or what are you concerned with more than anything or anyone else? Wherever your focus is, that is what your life is centered on.” I almost fell out of the pew. I knew my answer and it wasn’t Christ. It was my husband. My husband is a wounded warrior who is no longer working. We spend every day together. E-V-E-R-Y. D-A-Y.  We’re together 24/7. I spend my day trying to make him happy, worrying that I’m falling short. I’m always asking him what I can do to help, how I can make things better, if I did something to offend him, or how I can be a better wife. I think it drives him crazy. I’m so thankful to God for the gift that He gave me in my husband. After previously having a marriage that ended in the abandonment of me and my four children, I’ve come to hold on so tight to my new husband and our marriage, never taking it for granted for a minute. Loving my husband is a good thing. Honoring him is a vow I made to him before God and my friends and family. But when did I allow him to become the center of my heart? When did I let the gift become more important than the Gift-Giver.

Convicted, I sat there in my seat, trying hard to follow the rest of the sermon, but my heart continued to ache. My mind continued to search for truth. Then, out of no where, I received the final word that I needed to hear… “Do you hold someone else’s opinion of you higher than you hold God’s opinion of you?” I wanted to run to the altar right then. Without thinking, I pulled my hair forward on one side so my husband couldn’t see the tears streaming down my cheeks. Pretending to be studying a passage of Scripture, I bowed my head and pleaded with God to help me. I begged His forgiveness for allowing someone else to sit on the throne of my heart. I thanked Him for loving me more than I’ve ever deserved to be loved. I told Him that I knew I was His daughter, His princess, a daughter of the King. And I asked Him to help me remember that when I felt like so much less.

The entire focus of my pastor’s sermon was finding balance in our lives, by centering our lives on Christ. I got that message. The Holy Spirit gave me another message that morning, too. I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote the words, “Tender hearts in a Hooah world”. I knew that I needed to share this with someone that might be going through the same thing. Many of us live in a “hooah world”- married to a military man that we love and want to please. They don’t understand our emotions, our vulnerability, or our tenderness. Sometimes, quite honestly, they may be a little afraid of it. But that doesn’t mean that we need to hide that side of ourselves.  We don’t need to try to pretend we’re less than who we are. We shouldn’t hide our sensitivity and our emotions, especially when they are emotions toward our God, out of fear of rejection from our spouse or anyone else. God gave many of us a tender heart for a reason. He lavishes His love upon us and is so pleased when we lavish our love upon Him in return. He doesn’t care what others think about the gifts of our tears or our praise to Him. In fact, when others mock, question and ridicule us for our outpouring of love towards our King, our love becomes a sacrifice of praise and becomes that much more beautiful in His sight. He doesn’t view our emotions and vulnerability as a weakness but rather as a strength that He designed in us for a purpose- to bring Him glory.

One acquaintance I’ve made on facebook is a military wife that lives in another state. I don’t know her personally. We’ve never met. I don’t even know her last name. But she commented on a post I made about a national abortion provider. She’s pro-choice. Pro-women’s-rights. Pro-abortion. She shared her views on a woman’s right to choose. I replied by sharing my conviction on the sanctity of human life. We discussed alternatives. We discussed life. We discussed other services offered by the abortion provider. We didn’t fight. We discussed. Then she posted the following words that hit me hard:

“I’m pro choice, woman’s body woman’s choice. I guess the way I see it I wouldn’t like anyone telling me what to do with my life choices. Only God can judge me But thank you for being respectful. Nice when you can have a mature conversation instead of a bunch of name calling!”

What hit me so hard was not her stance on the issues, but rather her stance on US. You know, us Christians. Us, who defend God, defend life, defend the unborn. Us, who so often in the spirit of standing up for God, unintentionally bow to name callling, blame pointing and trash talking. Us, who more often allow our righteous anger to turn into self-righteous anger.

What are we doing?

My facebook friend taught me something last week that I pray will stick with me for a long time. God’s been teaching me alot about what it truly means to glorify Him in the last few weeks and this one instance was my wake-up call. Girlfriends, I urge you to stop and remember who it is that you represent. Let’s ban together and share our Father’s love with a lost and dying world. Let’s give Christians a new reputation. Let’s be the heart, hands and feet of Christ. When people hear you’re a Christian, don’t let them think you’re “one of them.” Let them see Christ shining in you!

I grew up in a Baptist church and was part of a youth group that was taught the sanctity of human life. I knew at a young age that abortion was wrong and as a teenager I was vocal about God’s love for all babies – born and unborn. I never expected that at the young age of 21 I would find myself right in the middle of the biggest choice I would ever have to make – life or death for me and my unborn child. I was married and expecting my first child and excited about our future. A fatal disease was not part of my plan. Being told that I only had a 50% chance of surviving (and that was only if I aborted my child) was not part of the life I’d dreamed about. Saving my life or my baby’s was not a choice I wanted to make, but it was a choice I was faced with. It was a choice I made unwaveringly, having been so rooted in God’s truth.  Deuteronomy 30:19 says, “I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live.” God makes it clear. The choice is ours.

I chose to trust God that day. I chose to carry a child that the best perinatologist in St Louis swore would kill me. I chose to believe God had a plan. I chose life. And God showed up. God kept His Word. God delivered with huge blessings. God removed my life-ending disease. God spared my life and my daughter’s. God gave me the most beautiful, perfect, healthy, red-headed baby girl the world has ever seen. God even gave me four short, easy hours of delivery! God gave us life.

We named that little girl “Miracle.” Her birth story is published in a book with others like hers in the hope of encouraging other women to chose life when faced with similar, frightening circumstances. I’ve had the opportunity to share her story with Congressmen and young girls facing unplanned pregnancies. Her life brings hope to many. Her name opens up doors of opportunities to share Christ with others. Her life is a testimony of God’s goodness. Her legacy will be a legacy of life.

“Choose life, so that you and your children may live.”

The command is clear. The choice is easy. Trust God. Choose Life.

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What you’ll need:

1/4 cup cocoa
3 tbsp flour
3/4 cup white sugar
2 cups milk
1 tbsp softened butter
2 tsp vanilla

Here’s how to make the magic:
Whisk the cocoa, flour and sugar together, whisking away any lumps that form. Add milk and whisk well. Pour mixture into a saucepan and heat over medium heat until mixture reaches a consistency similar to gravy (7-10 min, stirring frequently). Remove from heat. Add butter and vanilla. Stir until butter is melted. Serve over biscuits. Enjoy the “ooooohs and ahhhhhhs”!