No Future Questions

Summer camp sounds like a lot of fun to me.  Swimming, hiking, boating....all those fun things.  But then there are those things I wouldn't want to do.  Rock climbing, repelling, wrestling....I'm a little girly.  What can I say?

My middle son, Aaron, was a counselor at a Christian sport camp this summer and had a little life lesson for me when he came home.  It seems that many of the kids were constantly looking out for the next activity. All day long, they'd ask, "What's next?" or "What's the lineup for the day?"  I suppose it gets tiresome when 12 kids ask that question over and over and OVER so the counselors had a standard response.  NO FUTURE QUESTIONS.  All day long when the kids asked, they'd respond "No Future Questions....None."  Every time the future was brought up, it was shut down.  Dunzo.

He explained the reasoning.  Sometimes the kids weren't liking the activities they were doing.  Maybe it was hard, maybe it was boring, maybe they weren't good at it.  The counselors were trying to get them to focus on the here and now and do what they were trying with excellence, even if it meant a lot of attempts and a lot of hard work and perhaps very little success....and quite possibly some tears.

Am I a control freak?  I didn't think so until after Aaron shared his summer with me.  I'm all the time wanting to know what's coming next.  I don't like it when things feel out of my control.  I want to be done with this in order to get to that.  Hurry up difficult thing so we can get to the more pleasant thing.  I want to be done with the tears and get on with the laughs.  Are you like that?

Matthew 6:34 says, "Don't worry about tomorrow.  Tomorrow will worry about itself."  From the master Counselor himself, we get the word to let go.  Let ME take care of that for you.  You don't have to know because I have it all planned.  Unclench your hands, open them up, and let go of that need to know.  My dear child, No Future Questions.

Do I Really Matter?

Written with love by Kristy Babb.....

We all come into this great big world asking the same questions. Am I loved? Am I accepted? Am I secure? Do I have what it takes? Am I Significant and do I really matter?

Like you most of the answers to these questions in my life came from my parents and my early environment. In my world most of these questions were either unanswered or answered with an astounding NO. But God in his goodness revealed to me that HE alone is the only one capable of answering these questions for me.

My point in telling you this is that the questions What makes you feel significant? and what makes you significant? are two very different questions. If you are a believer you are completely and totally of great worth and value to our creator. You have great significance because God says you do. So without any hesitation to the question What makes you significant? The only answer that will ring totally true in your spirit is GOD.

I believe God allows people and relationships in our lives that allow us to feel significant and that was the question posed to me. What makes you feel significant? or Worthy or Valuable? or Important?

My answer to the question was my baby blanket that I still sleep with at night.  Not only is it the perfect temperature but it also makes me feel wrapped in love. My Mom gave me this blanket when I was very young. Through the years she has made adjustment after adjustment to make this blanket a reflection of the big life changes that have occurred for me. You will find somewhere the date December 28, 1996 and the name Chris Babb on a piece of Dallas Cowboy fabric. Obviously my wedding day. A little dog house with the name of our first born Parker. The year 1996 and the name Dawn Rose Mayer. Our beautiful niece who joined our lives in 2002.  2008 Klara Grace Babb, 2010 Aaron Alden Babb, 2012 Conlin John Babb. The three precious gifts that have been entrusted to our family. The fabrics are bright colored with butterflies and ribbons and centered throughout the entire blanket is a big red velvet cross. Whenever something new in my life happens my mom will come for a visit with her sewing kit and make the changes. If it tatters or tears she will do her magic repair work. Everyday this blanket reminds me how much my mom loves me and how significant I am to her. How very special she thinks I am and how valuable my family is to her.

I believe that my true significance is not measured by what makes me feel significant. Although an extra special blessing as much as I love my blanket if I was without it I would not think that I was insignificant. Our feelings can come and go. They are changeable often times unpredictable and can go up and down depending on the day or weather. But whether or not we are significant is unchangeable. It is a constant variable whether we feel it or not. No one or nothing will ever answer this question for you like your Father. Guess what happens when the God of the universe calls you by name and tells you that you matter? You do.

Learning How to Speak

Heat. Neon colors. That dusty, earthy smell. Dirty velvet. Cautious glances. That I-don't-quite-know-what-to-do-with-my-hands syndrome. That I-want-to-talk-to-this-kid-but-I'm-not-that-good-at-spanish anxiety. That I'm-here-to-do-God's-work-but-I-feel-inadequate mentality.

Welcome to Nicaragua.

From the moment that I stepped foot in the country until the moment I left, Nicaragua consumed me. I felt as though I was being attacked on all sides by cultural and environmental differences. Painted murals, lit trees, tethered chickens, decorated buses, crumbled buildings, rusted houses, scared faces, happy faces, tears, mangos, dirty hands. There's so much to see and hear and touch and smell that it's like being in a vortex with all of your senses spiraling out of control, but you're calm. Because time slows down in Nicaragua. No one is in a rush, no one is busy. The sun is up and the light is golden. The hot air envelops itself around you and a breeze makes your hair dance in the wind. I'm convinced that God designed Virginia's weather first because by the time He got to Nicaragua, he had perfected how to make a flawless climate.

I spent eight days with a team from UVA working at a church in the middle of a slum for a non-profit, Christian organization called Orphanetwork. Everyday, I would watch kids in the nursery, feed everyone lunch, and organize a craft for the older children while the local adults got lessons on how to tutor kids for the church's after school programs. One day we were able to clean this dusty, impoverished community with the kids, and another day took them to the pool to teach them how to swim.

The overarching impression that I received from interacting with this community was how much they were lacking. Lacking in money, food, education, clothes. Lacking in love, security, and confidence. The pastor said that people are unmotivated to take care of themselves. The majority of children drop out of school, parents struggle from drug addictions, and an overwhelming number of girls get pregnant before the age of 15. They have not learned to care for their environment or community as a whole and the truth of their value through Christ isn't known.

Hearing those words made my stomach churn. My work with these kids was intended to be relational, so while we did activities to teach them, our main objective was to make them feel significant. Sometimes the weight of that felt like a burden, as if it would've been easier to build a house or donate blood. Yet I found myself in the midst of sixty or so kids, hollering at the top of my lungs and swinging little ones around like airplanes. I could see them. I could see him. A 12 year old boy who wears a dirt-encrusted velvet hat and says that his favorite book is the Bible. I saw his sister who wears a Dora nightgown as a dress, and I saw his brother who draws with broken rubber bands because pencil and paper are too expensive. And I saw all these harsh realities spun around them like a spider's web, ensnaring them in lies of hopelessness and deceit, and I wanted to tell them that they are wonderful. That their incredible spunk and energy is intoxicating. That they can do important things because they are important, and that God has more love for them than they could ever imagine. But I hesitated. The words dried up in my mouth because I know english, not spanish. I didn't know how to translate my feelings into words that they would understand and I struggled with feeling as though I was failing in the very work I traveled there to do. But God sometimes has this funny little way of taking our smallest weaknesses and transforming them into some of our greatest strengths. He gave me other ways to speak to them.  He gave me laughter and silly faces. Hand gestures and staring contests. Salsa dancing and coloring books. He taught me that the language of communication isn't verbal, it's emotional. It's love.

When I came back to the States, Orphanetwork gave my team from UVA the challenge of raising $25,000 to launch a new education program in places like the church that I worked at. This program would provide kids with teachers, tutors, and school supplies to promote continuing their education. The goal is to reverse the negative effects of their culture and improve their quality of life.
I would be profoundly grateful if you allowed me to continue to love on these kids by reaching my personal goal of $900. You can donate online at http://www.razoo.com/story/To-Teach-The-Untaught-Support-Nicaragua. These donations are tax refundable and you can print a receipt straight off of the website. It's been nearly three weeks since I've returned from Central America, and I am still processing the things that I saw and the responsibility I feel like I have for these kids. It's been very hard for me to sum up my experiences to people because I've found that I can talk forever about Nicaragua. Despite the many things that I wish I could say, I'll end with this:

"No os olvidéis de la hospitalidad, porque por ella algunos, sin saberlo, hospedaron ángeles." Hebreos 13:2
"Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by doing so some people have entertained angels without knowing it." Hebrews 13:2

I hope I met some Nicaraguan angels.

Helping Justice

Today's post is by Kelly Wayland

Back in early November I was introduced to someone who attended an open house that I was holding for a business I have recently started. She told me about a family that lives in Gainesville, VA who is struggling financially. A single mom and her three daughters, the youngest of which is battling a rare form of cancer called Hystiocytosis. 
Hystiocytosis is found in only about 800 people in the world. Justice, who is 8 years old, has been battling this disease since she was one year old and it has since spread to her brain. She is currently a living miracle. The disease is terminal and the family has been told that there is nothing more medically that can be offered.
Justice lives with her mom, Randee, and her sister, Taylor. Taylor is 19 years old and works full time to help put food on the table every day. She is currently taking driving classes that she was unable to take when she was in school due to a lack of money. The driving classes are being paid for by some supporters of the family. Randee, is unable to keep a full time job since she has to be around to take care of Justice. 
My company donated a Christmas dinner as well as some Christmas gifts to the family back in December. We also held a fundraiser where I sold my products and donated the profits to the family. We raised almost $400!! It was enough to pay their electric bill for the month of February, have the family vehicle inspected (and pass!) and then some leftover for anything else they needed.
The family is in constant need of basic things like food, toilet paper, money to put gas in the car, etc. as well as money to pay their utilities every month. I would like to organize a food drive for the family to start now and continue until Easter Sunday (March 31). Paula has allowed me to take donations at our upcoming Ladies Craft Night. Any kind of food is welcome! I will note that Randee is not much of a cook so anything that is simple to make/prepare is best. Cereal, Instant mashed potatoes, canned soups, canned fruits & veggies, etc… Pretty much any “heat & eat” kind of thing.
The plan is to collect donations until Easter Sunday (March 31) and deliver everything to the family sometime that week. Everything helps! Thanks in advance to anyone and everyone who participates!!"

Constant Reminders

So much sickness.  So much pain.  People without jobs and seemingly without hope.  The prayer chain email  is delivered and we're asked to pray for a family who lost their home in a fire.  How can we go on and who will help us?  I don't know about you but I find myself feeling overwhelmed and I want to throw my hands up in despair.

The other day I was in such a place and felt as though a tsunami of responsibility were washing over me and I was going to be swept away.  Maybe you've felt that way too and want to give up or plop down and bawl your eyes out.  Little things and big things combine in the perfect storm of stress, fear, and anxiety and it seems like Goliath himself stands before you and you are helpless in the face of it all.


As I struggled to get my things out of the car and into the house, I looked up.  I just stopped and looked up. There in the sky, on February 15th, was a beautiful rainbow.  I'm not sure I've ever seen one in the heart of winter, but there it was and it spoke to me.  It reminded me of a few truths about God and I was immediately comforted....immediately.

In our Bible study this week, Beth Moore challenges us to "Ask God to make you aware of the constant reminders of His presence in your life so that you can have His assurance no matter your circumstances."  My reminder this week was a rainbow, symbol of God's covenant with Noah.  It reminded me of His faithfulness to another, and comforted me that He would be faithful to me as well.

What tsunami is washing over you this week?  I know you have one, or if you don't, one will probably be headed your way. Not to bring you down, but life is like that.  How are you reminding yourself of God's faithfulness in the midst of it?  Join me in being aware and in asking for reminders and I'm sure God will give us rainbows in the storms.

Psalm 121

A song of ascents.

¹ I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
    where does my help come from?
² My help comes from the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth.

³ He will not let your foot slip—
    he who watches over you will not slumber;
⁴ indeed, he who watches over Israel
    will neither slumber nor sleep.

⁵ The Lord watches over you—
    the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
⁶ the sun will not harm you by day,
    nor the moon by night.

⁷ The Lord will keep you from all harm—
    he will watch over your life;
⁸ the Lord will watch over your coming and going
    both now and forevermore.

Who Taught Me To Love?

Today's post is by Kristin Odom.

The question: Who taught me to love? The answer: My parents.

Throughout my childhood, my teenage years, and now my adulthood, I never once questioned if my parents loved me. They have never been shy about expressing their love to me, and I am so grateful for that. I watched how they loved each other and how they loved my brother and I, and have since tried to live what they taught me.

I remember realizing as a teenager that what I saw at home was very different from what many of my friends experienced at home. I learned very quickly that the loving parents I had were more the exception than the rule. They not only loved their children, but they loved each other dearly. They were the ones that always made me feel like the most popular, most beautiful girl when others might not have agreed. Yes, as a teenager, I sometimes felt like they were a bit smothering and sappy, but knew it was because they loved me. The older I got, the more I cherished what they had together. Now married, and soon to be turning 30, I find myself wanting to imitate what they have as parents and as mates.

My parents show love in very different ways, which balances out nicely. My father is the guy that still leaves my favorite candy on the kitchen counter when I go visit, and makes sure to take a day off to take me to my favorite fishing spot. I find it neat that he still wants to treat me, even if I am a grown woman with a family of my own. He takes time out of his day to make mine special and that never gets old. He now finds joy in treating my children with the same love he has shown me. We are constantly getting packages in the mail from him with an assortment of horses, which are Olivia’s current obsession. Nothing makes my heart smile more than to see my Dad make Olivia feel as loved as I have by him.

My mother is the one who gets excited when my daughter learns a new word or I find a new favorite café. She is the first person I call when Olivia learns a new skill or I need to vent about a difficult parenting day. Now as a mother, there are just some things that only she can understand. I constantly want her opinion, advice, and listening ear, and that’s because she has shown me such great love. Like everyone says, I appreciate her more and more now that I am a mother. I know that showing love as a mother means a lot of different things. Sometimes those things aren’t the most enjoyable. Diapers, meals, laundry, cleaning, middle of the night wake up calls, groceries...and the list goes on. I feel like I should tell her thank you for doing my laundry and giving me cough medicine during childhood, because I’m sure I didn’t tell her then! It’s just one of those things that make motherhood so glamorous! That, my friends, is true love.

They fill my heart in different ways, but they are equally as special.

Thirty-four years and two grandchildren later, they are still the parents and grandparents I strive to be. (Yeah, I know, that’s super cheesy..but it’s the truth).

Living, Laughing, Loving

Today's post is by Cindy Wayland.

“Would you be willing to write for the GLCC Ladies’ Blog about someone who has ‘taught you to love?’”  I immediately said, “Sure,” and considered about whom I would write.  The first person to come to my mind was my dad.  He was a police officer, but in spite of his erratic hours, he always made time for my mom, my sisters and our family.  When I was a kid and would ask if I could go with him to the hardware store, he would almost always say, “Yes.”  We played catch with a softball in our backyard on many occasions.  And although I was nearly 40 years old at the time, I saw the ultimate example of his love for my mom when she was undergoing treatment for kidney cancer.  My family and I were visiting them in Florida, and I heard her in the bathroom getting sick.  Dad dropped what he was doing to go into the bathroom and be with her.  Keep in mind that this was a man who grew up in an era when it was usually the moms who took care of the kids when they were sick, so this was not a role that my dad was accustomed to.  And the first time I ever saw my dad cry was about a month later, when Mom passed away….  True love.

But then I thought a bit further…..and my thoughts went to my mom….She was the one who WAS home with my sisters and me every day.  She told us after we were grown that she chose to be a stay-at-home mom so that she could be there in case we ever needed her.  And although we probably wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, we did need her – beginning when we were infants:  she changed our diapers, wiped our noses, tended to our skinned knees, taught us how to get along with others, nursed us back to health when we were sick, and wore her clothes until they were practically threadbare so that my sisters and I could have new clothes every once in a while.

I continued to ponder the question:  “Who taught you to love?”  My parents, as husband and wife, certainly demonstrated love to me nearly every day!  They seldom said a cross word to one another, they enjoyed spending time together, and they were the first ones to teach me about Jesus and God’s love.   After Dad retired, one of the first trips they took was to drive across the United States, from Florida to California, and back to Florida.  When someone once asked them, “What do you talk about when you spend that much time alone together in the car?”, I remembered my mom answering, “Most of the time, we don’t talk at all.”  For her, it was just enough to be with my dad and to enjoy the ride and the scenery as they drove along.  One of my favorite photographs of them (which I don’t have, but is hanging in my parents’ house), is a picture of the two of them laughing together.  They simply lived, they loved, they laughed.

I could certainly think of others in my life who have taught me to love – my husband, my grandparents, even my in-laws and children.  But I think the first people who taught me to love were my mom and dad!   And for that, I will be forever grateful!!