When You Leap!

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Feet planted, toes push close to the edge but not over. Knees bent, a slight bounce as my body sways first forward then back. Jump or no?  That is the question.

In April, my husband and I stuttered through conversations, one after another, that waited for the other to say “go.”

A series of God ordained events led us to the edge of a cliff. God spoke. We obeyed. 

Deep breath! “Jump!”

We made a leap. 

Long story shortened, we decided to place our 17 year old adopted son in a treatment facility for boys in hope that he would get specialized help needed to overcome some deep issues and unhealthy brain patterns. In truth, it was our last hope to save his life. (and we have a long history of suicide attempts, hospital visits and therapists to confirm what may sound like an overdramatized statement.)

The leap was in part the group home but  in full it was the price; a hefty sum ALL out of pocket. 

A recent summer day found me, mid-air, with wavering faith. Won’t ask for money, but friends made a point to do it for me by way of a You Caring Crowdfunding site. Pride made me resistant to the idea, but love of my friends made me cave.

“God, this is hard and humbling and somewhat embarrassing to accept money from people who I know struggle with their own finances. Forgive me, though, for not embracing what seems to be your will. If it is your will, then please let money come from those who won’t have to sacrifice to give.”

No more than 5 minutes passed after those words left my lips before an email popped up. I cried at every word. Here’s the nutshell version.

“Teresa, I have a trust account set aside for donations. Right now we are sending $2500. No need to thank me.  It’s from God and my parents, who left me the money.”

I sat stunned. Ecstatic at the evidence of God’s involvement yet a bit ashamed at my surprise of it.

Q: At what point in our decisions process should the possibility of success outweigh the possibility of defeat or humiliation or failure?

A: The moment God says “jump!”

Faith is to believe God’s faithfulness, provision and omnipotence will meet us at the same mid-air moment a skydiver pulls the cord and releases the parachute. Then and only then, does He take us higher and further than possible to imagine.

Psalm 3:4 “I call out to the LORD, and he answers me from his holy mountain.”

The Lord’s work began when our human effort ended.

On a more remarkable note, our son is thriving. His therapist wrote, “Good news! [Your son] continues to do very well! We are very proud of him. We have not had any issues of defiance, has been a GREAT leader and peer and has been very productive in therapy.”  

Six years of therapy and hospitals and our unconditional love could not do what this home has done in 4 months. 

God had a plan for healing that involved a leap of faith on our part. We are still hovering with wind below but are confident that God, who called us to jump, will be faithful to sustain us and complete what He started.

At what cliff do you find yourself paralyzed? Is God saying “jump?”
cliff-diving

Lessons from my 15 Year Old Daughter!

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Frayed edges, stained center (outdated by American standards,) the throw rug beneath displayed the wear of many feet that had paced before me. Arms crossed and tucked in close, not for the chill in the enclosed concrete room, but an effort to contain the emotions with in me. My third child, escorted by a dark haired woman in a floral smock, was delivered.

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A Painful Kind of Love.

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Depleted of vices to hide behind, raw and real are all that remain.  Perhaps it is where He wants me.  My true authentic self, helpless before God. I’m okay with that.  For a long period of seasons, I was anything but. Yet now, even a midst the ruins of my soul, the chaos of my existence, there is peace and it is Him others see, not myself. Grateful for that as life seems to be in shambles.

Twenty-five days ago, a moment of anguish that towers above all others crushed my soul.  The drive over the pass was non-eventful, even quite pleasant.  Which made the endeavor that much more unbearable.

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Subtle Lies that Haunt Us!

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The tone of the tall grass merges with the dirty yellow of his mane. No movement, no sound. None are aware of his presence. He observes.  A moment of weakness rises as one prey lets his guard down. Predator edges closer. No cracking of dry grass beneath his feet warns imminent danger lurks. The prey, oblivious to his surroundings, is hit as predator leaps to attack.  He never saw it coming.

I relate to the prey, often unaware that a beast hides in the shadows. He detects, more than I, my vulnerability and my doubt. He waits for it, then feeds on it.

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When they can’t Love you Back!

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“What do you think my love language is, Mom?” he asked.

“Well, there is a test you can take on line,” I said.

“Yeah, David was telling me I should take it. Will you help, in case I don’t understand the questions?”

“Of course!”

We were late for church but when my son asks for emotional help or growth, I refuse to brush aside the rare occurrence.

A quick search and the window popped up. We read…
“For each set of statements, select the one you prefer the most,”

No awareness on his part but I was all but ignorant of the sadness each question built on, not his, but my own.
An ache clinched my heart as truth was revealed; love is a foreign concept for him.

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Joy Comes in the Mourning!

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Deeply grieved today, I am forced to choose. Stay fixated on the circumstances that plague our family and the sorrow of my journey or find a different angle.

No story this time, that would be fixating, but I trust you have your own. Loss, wounds, frustrations; impossible situations as parents, coworkers, friends, or children weigh us all. Insert your heavy-hearted situation here.

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Laughter Through Tears is my Favorite Emotion!

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Secret struggles plant hidden seeds of anguish and distress that, when never faced with the light, remain grounded in a darkness and spread and infect the rest of our soul.  Laughter is to this bruising, as light is to dark; the latter always succumbs to the presence of the former.

Lights flash, people stare, their imagination fills in the story from their 10 second exposure as they drive by the 911 scene.  Being in the middle of this reoccurring scenario has made me numb to the onlookers.

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Battling Alone is Never His Plan

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The house was quiet and Dave and I drifted off to sleep with a plan to take the next morning slow and easy. A rare treat as our middle child had been on suicide watch for some time, causing shifts in our sleep habits. All three kids were at a church camp retreat. REM sleep had settled in when a sudden surge penetrated my body and shot me to a straight up position in bed while the words “in Jesus name” left my mouth loud enough to wake Dave.

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An Ahrendt Christmas Story…by God!

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This Christmas story, composed not from my own creativity, is absent the tinsel, twinkling lights or cookie baking, yet, a version worth sharing, none the less.

December, 1996, our first Christmas bearing the weight of infertility, oblivious that we were about to embark on years of anguish and endless tears coupled with uncertainty and empty womb. Yet, unbeknownst to us, God was scripting a beautiful Christmas story, interweaving his promises with each chapter.

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