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On November 6, 2011, I posted this on Facebook.

“YES! I have been carrying a huge burden of STUFF for a few years now. Tired of managing stuff, too much stuff, especially burdened seeing our unused kids stuff. As we were cleaning out the basement yesterday, I just told my husband again how I would LOVE to be able to send off some of this kids stuff DIRECTLY to kids far away that have nothing and would appreciate and use it so much. Today, I see a post from Jillian on Facebook who is adopting two children from Haiti, requesting specific Chistmas gifts for children at the orphanage. She tells me they are bringing 12-15 suitcases next visit & lists specific needs of children. LOVE how God has provided me with the opportunity to serve others in the exact way I have been yearning for.”

Jillian responded later that day.

“I love how God works like that! His timing is perfect!”

I couldn’t agree more. His timing is perfect.

Jillian & kids

I’d watched the TV commercials about child sponsorship. I’d committed to reading every post from Compassion International, Help One Now, and World Help blogging trips from all over the world. And I’d been a loyal follower of my brother’s friend, Jillian, on Facebook as she and her husband have been in the process of adopting two children from Haiti. But the rubber had never hit the road for me until that day, November 6, 2011, when Jillian reached out on Facebook, indicating help was needed to purchase Christmas gifts for children at the orphanage in Haiti.

I felt strongly that this was the best opportunity I’d ever had to jump in and make a difference in the life of a real child in need, so I sent Jillian a message asking for gift ideas and “anything else [she] thought might be helpful at the orphanage.” She sent me a list of five children who still needed a gift for Christmas. Djondarly wanted a Transformer. And Valencia wanted rise-and-shine breakfast play set. Jillian included pictures of the little ones who still needed a Christmas gift. Who could resist these sweet faces? Wouldn’t we all be more generous if we could see the faces impacted by our giving?

Djondarly

Valencia

So Djondarly and Valencia it was!

I ordered the Transformer and rise-and-shine breakfast set online and packed two apple boxes with clothing, shoes, receiving blankets, toys, and books. I sent the boxes with my mom who brought them to Jillian, and Jillian packed all of my stuff in suitcases she brought to the orphanage later that month.

It was a blessing to provide for children in need. The rubber met the road that November 2011. And for that, I am forever grateful.

God’s timing was and is truly perfect. Everything that happened between then and now? It came together like clockwork. It’s hard to deny God’s hand in every step.

Because Jillian diligently posted updates about their soon-to-be adopted children, I developed a special heart for the people of Haiti.

Because Jillian reached out for help, indicating there were still children who needed a Christmas gift at the orphanage, I had the opportunity to set my childhood dreams into action. The rubber had finally hit the road.

Because of Jillian, I’d developed such a love for Haiti, that when we began planning a family vacation five months later, we had no hesitation considering and booking a cruise that stopped at Haiti for one single day – even if it wasn’t your typical cruise destination.

Because of Jillian, I thought just maybe we’d get the chance to spend our one day in Haiti visiting the orphanage, including her two adoptive children-to-be. And when I discovered there was no way that was going to happen, we thought maybe we’d sponsor a child and spend our one day in Haiti visiting him or her. But when I discovered there was no way that was going to happen either, we decided we’d sponsor a child anyway.

So we did.

My daughter and I chose little Bethchaida from the Compassion International website that August 2012. She was sweet with her mint green dress and white ribboned hair. The longings of my little girl heart had finally been fulfilled.

I didn’t know then, that I’d be visiting Bethchaida and another little boy now. But Jillian? She had a hunch way back in November 2011 that I’d want to Go.

I was pregnant, in fact, about to deliver, when I purchased those Christmas gifts and packed the apple boxes for Haiti. When I sent my final message to Jillian letting her know my mom had the gifts and apple boxes and would be delivering them to her house, she responded with this, just days before she was scheduled to leave for Haiti.

“Awesome!!! Thank you so much! If you weren’t having a baby I would say you should come with us!”

My response?

“That would be awesome!!!”

Yep. God’s timing is perfect.

I wasn’t able to travel then, but later this month, I’ll be making my way to Haiti for a trip that’s bound to be life altering. So today, I’m grateful for Jillian, for the transparency of her life, for sharing, for reaching out, for inviting me to serve and give in a way that fit perfectly with who I am and who I want to be.

The rubber hit the road. In order for any of our dreams to become reality, the rubber always has to hit the road at some point. So thank you, Jillian. God used you as a catalyst to set my dreams and His plans for me into motion.

Amy

*This is part of a month-long series about my journey to Haiti. Click here to read all the posts in the series.

Jillian's kids

In The QuietOn Saturday afternoon, I found my 8-year-old playing with my iPhone. I got a little irritated when I discovered she was fooling around with the alarms. She’d set one to ON, so I turned it OFF. I scrolled through the alarms and when I thought they were all turned off, I took the phone and put it back in my purse.

I woke up at 3:15 a.m. Sunday morning to the alarm going off on my phone.

I literally jumped out of bed. My heart was beating fast and hard. I couldn’t tell where the ring was coming from, so I stumbled in a racing sort of way around the room searching for the phone.

You see, in that moment waking from deep sleep, I didn’t remember my daughter had been fooling around with the alarms. I thought the phone was ringing, and I thought it was my sister calling to say she was in labor.

I finally found my phone and realized it wasn’t my sister calling, but one of those pesty alarms that got by me somehow.

And then I got to thinking, perhaps it was God that woke me this night.

In the middle of the night, woken by an alarm, the one thing that sat in my subconscious sleep-state was my sister. Her life has been the backdrop, the dramatic and always unfolding sub-plot to my life for the past 9 1/2 years. She’s pregnant with her second, due to deliver in five days. And I can’t help but think the story’s still being written.

In the pitch black room, in the dark of the night, in my barely awake state, my heart still racing, the reason I’d been woken was as clear as day.

It’s time to write, Amy. It’s time to write.

WRITE!

I’ve been thinking about those words I wrote about my sister’s journey in 2004-2010. 201 pages, single spaced. 94,271 words. 402,099 characters. And that’s not all. There’s more content in a separate document, more content I’ve published on this blog, a whole host of things that have gone undocumented since I last wrote in October 2010.

Looking back, it seems miraculous I was able to write all that. Surely a coping mechanism, surely the best way for me to process the traumatic events, surely therapeutic. Surely and only written by the grace of God.

I always knew those words were book worthy. But the “book” didn’t have an ending. And to be honest, the thought of reliving those events and getting them in any sort of manuscript form has been overwhelming on all fronts.

But God says….

It’s time to write. The story is still being written.

So I need to write. This week, whether I have time or not, whether it’s convenient or not, I need to open up the document and begin again, on page 202.

Because things have happened, because things are going to happen, because the end of the story has yet to be written.

The scary, the ugly, the completely unknown, the beautiful parts in-between are still unfolding. I’ve recently realized – what if this chapter is the turning point? Do I really want to miss His hand? Would I really want to let the details be forgotten, go untold? My answer has been a reluctant no – the writing of the story is a double living it out. It’s lived in real life, and then it’s lived again on the screen. Sometimes that’s painful and not so pretty. And let’s be real – it’s also a lot of work – and might ultimately serve no purpose except my own release.

But He woke me to say…

It’s time to write. The story is still being written.

Sometimes beautiful, definitely mysterious, and at times utterly confusing, this is just a tidbit of the chapter immediately prior to second baby’s arrival.

Tiffany and Stewart

I sat at the table in TGI Friday’s, waiting. Tiffany and Stewart were about to arrive. We’d watched my niece, Raegan, for the past day so she’d have experienced sleeping away from her mom when the baby arrives. I looked out the window and there they were. I’d never met Stewart before. They just started dating and I knew very little about this man that came into the life of my 7 1/2-months-pregnant sister. But in an instant, my heart knew everything it needed to know when I looked out the window and caught a glimpse of him opening the door for her.

As the night progressed, my instincts told me – this man is good at his core. He has the potential to be an incredible Godly husband someday. And I felt a possible laying of God’s hands all over this set of circumstances. Because it was SO untimely, SO unlikely, SO seemingly impossible on all levels.

You see, Stewart has a significant history of his own.* His story, much like my sister’s. Stewart has overcome. He’s found healing, grace and forgiveness, yet still finds himself “failing forward” in battle with the enemy. But in my heart of hearts, I’m choosing to believe Stewart is fundamentally a good man who CAN overcome once and for all through the power and strength of Jesus, our Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. 

I’m choosing to let God lead. Because He’s writing the story. He’s writing every word.

Stewart brought a smile to my sister’s face that I don’t remember seeing since 1998.

And He smiled. Well done, good and faithful servant. 

Stewart got my sister laughing in a way I hadn’t heard for years. I didn’t even remember she could laugh like that until I heard it.

And He laughed. Well done, good and faithful servant.

There’s no making up smiles, and there’s no making up laughter either. It’s genuine, or it’s not. When you’ve come from the depths of hell on earth, you recognize real joy when you see it, real joy when you hear it. 

There’s no guarantee for any of us except the promise of heaven. It’s the living between now and then that’s packed-full of possibility.

Stewart’s come on the scene at the most unlikely of times. It doesn’t make sense. It’s hard to believe there could be anything good to come of this relationship. And truth be told, pain has already popped its ugly head.

But I’m believing that there’s something to this, there’s a reason and purpose for these developments. Because anyone who’s able to make my sister smile in a way I haven’t seen in years, and laugh in a way I didn’t even remember was possible – has done something very special in my book. They’ve given me a glimpse of hope.

Even if for one day. One day of hoping, one day of believing, one day of seeing the possible.

For ALL things are possible – in Him.

So I believe.

I believe God is working in my sister.

And I believe God’s working in Stewart as well.

As far as human hearts can tell, their lives lie in the unknown. But a God who’s bigger, greater, stronger – a God who sent his Son to save us from ourselves – is in control.

My planful, controlled, always analyzing spirit wants to know why. Why complicate an already complicated situation, God? Why bring them together when they clearly need to focus on themselves right now, God? Why not later, God, when they’re both healed and whole and wholly yours?

And He says in the quiet…

Don’t ask. You don’t need to know now. The story will unfold. It will take its course. I AM working. Lean not on your own understanding, but Mine. Keep your visions, your dreams, your hopes alive. Tuck them away for safe keeping. And trust in Me.

But in the meantime…

It’s time to write. The story is still being written.

Amy

*Stewart granted me permission to share his story in hopes that it will help even one, but for the protection of my sister and because I’d like to leave room for Stewart to share his testimony on this blog someday, I choose to keep the details private for now.

If you’d like to read more about my sister’s story, click here.

The story is still being written.

It’s the sentence that’s been ringing true in my heart for months.

It’s true, you know.

My story? It’s still being written.

Your story? It’s still being written.

I want answers. I want clarity. I want direction. I want to know what’s next. I want to go this way or that. I don’t want the in-between. Whatever it is, it would be awfully nice to have it now. I don’t want to think, overanalyze or wonder what if. There are moments I don’t even want to believe. Because sometimes believing leaves me feeling like I’m grasping onto pieces of dandelions I just blew off in a wide open field. I just want to know. Forget the wishing. Forget the story between here and there, God. Couldn’t you make it clearer, faster, easier? Couldn’t you just get to the best part of my story and leave it at that?

And you. You want to give up, throw in the towel. It’s just too much. You’ve been through enough, had enough of this, done enough of that. It seems there’s no hope. Really, it truly does. Things couldn’t get much worse. You’ve done it all and it all’s left you with nothing. Rock bottom defines you. Heck, it’s defined you for weeks, months, maybe years. Everyone else’s “what in the world was she thinking,” “why in the world would he do thats” take hold of your heart. The weight of hopelessness settles in. There’s nowhere to go but down. Or at best, stay the same. Forever. In a moment of raw honesty between you and God, you ask – are you for real? After all this, is there any chance my life will have a happy chapter again?

But the God I know? He’s not done, He’s not finished with you yet.

Because the story is still being written.

My story is still being written.

Your story is still being written.

This, I know for sure.

If you’re a believer, if you’re not a believer, whether you’ve turned away from God or never known Him at all, whether you’ve felt or denied His presence in your life – it doesn’t matter.

Because the story is still being written.

We’re made in the image of God. His fingerprints are all over us. So He’ll keep fighting and He’ll keep writing till the end!

Trust the sound mind you’ve been given.

Trust the beat of your heart, your soul.

Have faith strong enough to withstand ALL doubt, ALL fear.

BELIEVE that God can enter your story at any second and BLOW you away – just when you think the story’s already been written, just when you think the story’s at a dead standstill, just when you think it’s going to have to be this way forever.

With His truth, His power, His presence, He’ll blow you away, just like that.

He’ll take my story, he’ll take your story, and when you’re least expecting it, he’ll show up. You’ll wake up and realize He’s creating a turning point for you, right now. You’ll wake from your deep slumber and realize He’s performing the miracle you never expected. And suddenly you’ll see there’s a lot more hope today than there was yesterday.

So believe it. It’s true.

My story is still being written.

Your story is still being written.

Because the God of the universe is still working on you. He always has hope, He knows there’s always a way, and He wants to light your way. If you’ll let him.

Amy

Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.  Psalm 139:16

It’s a true honor to introduce you to Eva Piper, author of recently released A Walk Through The Dark. Eva is the wife of Don Piper who authored New York Times bestseller 90 Minutes In Heaven. In 1989, Don was in a significant head-on crash with an 18 wheeler. He was proclaimed dead on the scene, spent 90 minutes in heaven, and miraculously survived to share his account with millions worldwide.

Anyone who has experienced trauma knows it has a life-changing impact not just on the individual, but on family members as well. In her book, A Walk Through The Dark, Eva courageously shares her faith-filled journey as wife and caregiver following Don’s accident. Don had the privilege of spending 90 glorious minutes in heaven, but returned to find himself in excruciating pain, stuck in a hospital bed for months, and Eva was by his side every step of the way.

I read Don’s book, 90 Minutes In Heaven, and Eva’s book, A Walk Through The Dark, back to back, which I highly recommend as the books complement each other perfectly. One thing that struck me as I read each book was the powerful presence of a man named David Gentiles. David played a significant role in Don’s recovery after the accident, and was ultimately the one who convinced Don to share his story about heaven. I asked Eva to share more about David in this guest post, and consider it an absolute honor that she entrusted me with the sharing of this miraculous story today.

My husband had miraculously survived being hit head-on by an 18 wheeler on a rural Texas highway on January 18, 1989. It had taken 5 1/2 hours for him to finally arrive at Hermann Memorial Hospital in Houston. His right kneecap was shattered, his left arm had been lying on the back seat, four inches of femur from his left leg had been ejected from his body and thrown out of the car never to be found.

Those injuries were catastrophic themselves but now 17 days later we faced an even more dangerous situation. Following what was suppose to be a minor surgery he developed double pneumonia. Due to the massive injuries to his legs there was no way to elevate him in order to provide the needed breathing treatments. Don got worse and worse each day. The ICU staff, his doctors, and I tried our best to get him to attempt to breathe.

I found myself begging, pleading, yelling at him “Breathe, breathe you have to breathe.” Each time he would respond, “Hurts too much.” By the third day doctors were talking about putting him on a respirator. They told me that once he was on that his chances of survival were slim. I couldn’t believe God had brought him through the accident, the long trip to Houston, an all night surgery just to have him die from pneumonia.

I was exhausted from being at the hospital non stop. I kept questioning myself “Why can’t I get through to him? Why won’t he listen to me about how important it is to try and breathe?” In complete despair I took my fears to God. I began to pray, asking for God to help me know what to say to Don. I begged Him to give me the right words. I claimed His promise never to leave me. In the midst of the prayer I realized God had a different plan from the one I was seeking. I raised my head, walked over to the phone and called Don’s closest friend.

David Gentiles was living in Austin about 160 miles away. When David picked up the phone I told him all that was going on with Don. Before I could even form the question asking him to come to the hospital, David said “I’m on my way.” I thanked him and hung up the phone. Instead of praying for Don I began to pray for David and his safe travel.

Three hours later I looked up to see David walking down the hall towards me. His strong embrace said more than any words he could have uttered. Since David was a minister he was allowed into the ICU to see Don. I didn’t go in with him so I didn’t hear their conversation in person. I do know Don told David he didn’t have it in him to fight to survive to which David replied, “That’s alright. You don’t have to do a thing. We are going to pray you through this. We are going to pray all night.”

True to his word David gathered a group of believers who began an all night prayer vigil for my husband. The following morning Don’s breathing had improved. His doctors were thrilled with his progress and began to make plans to move his healing process along. It would require 34 surgeries to repair the damage to Don’s legs and arm. But they would not have been possible if his breathing had not improved.

Throughout the ordeal of Don’s wreck and recovery I was shown over and over that God always answers prayer. He answered my prayer that night not as I had asked but in His bigger and better plan. Because I was led to call David, and because David called others who prayed many had the experience of seeing our prayers answered. I’m so very thankful I didn’t try to do things my way but instead followed God’s guidance. His way is always best.

David continued to be an important part of our lives. It was David who realized Don had experienced something while lying dead in that crushed car and through his patient questioning helped Don share his remarkable experience. It was David who convinced Don to share his story of seeing heaven. It was David who co-officiated with Don at our daughter Nicole’s wedding. It was David who served as president of the board of Don Piper Ministries. It was David who prayed for my mom when she suffered a stroke. It was David who Don would call to talk baseball, football, ministry, life. David brought much joy, happiness, and love to all who had the privilege of knowing him. We miss him terribly. At times we still want to pick up the phone and call him. There is a big hole in our heart but we know one day he’ll greet us in heaven with that same big smile and huge hug.

Eva Piper

 

Eva’s book, A Walk Through The Dark, is available for purchase through many outlets listed on her website www.evapiper.com. Don’s book, 90 Minutes In Heaven, is available for purchase through Amazon and on his website Don Piper Ministries.

 

In February 2007, long before Pinterest boards existed, I created a vision board as part of a Whole-Life Coaching course offered at Lifetime Fitness which you can see has since been punched through and written on with pens by one of my kids. In case you’ve never heard of a vision board, it’s a way to vision your best, most ideal life through a collage of pictures. In other words, if all of your God-Sized Dreams came true, this is what your life would look like.

On one side of my vision board I pasted fanciful visions of cruise ships, mission trips, nightly family dinners, Pottery Barn bedrooms, and extraordinary health and wellness. On the other side, a God-Sized Dream bigger than life. And in the center of that vision? A  woman smiling kindly and genuinely, captioned We’ve never chatted at the grocery store, but I’ll help save your life.

While I don’t believe there was anything magical about pasting cut-out magazine pictures on a piece of foam board six and a half years ago, I do believe God creates us uniquely and places purposes in each of our hearts. If we follow His promptings one by one, our dreams can become reality.

We’ve never chatted at the grocery store, but I’ll help save your life.

That picture in the center of my vision was big and bold and it meant something to me in February 2007, but I didn’t know why. In August 2010 I joined Twitter, and three years later as I look at that board, I know without a doubt that part of the vision has been fulfilled, is being fulfilled, daily. That photograph represents the family of soul sisters and brothers I have found through Twitter – a family of bloggers, authors, and all kinds of extraordinarily ordinary people that have become my special place, my hiding place, the place where my heart feels known. Where facades are stripped and souls remain, speaking truths of reality and beauty from pain. We understand each other completely through the sharing and baring of words. And this place where words connect the world – is where I belong.

You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everyone. You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.  2 Corinthians 3:2-3

Amy

*This was originally written as a Five Minute Friday post on July 19, 2013, but not published until today. The word of the week was belong.

  1. Amy B. Pederson says:

    Idelette, thanks for stopping by and for your encouragement!

  2. Idelette McVicker says:

    This is beautiful, Amy. I still love vision boards…

    Btw, I got to listen in on some of the 143 Voxer messages that awaited me and I LOVE your voice… I haven’t made my way through enough of the conversation to comment–seriously!–but I will get there.

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