“Who touched Me?”

Luke 8:45

“Jesus traveled through all the cities and villages of that area, teaching in the synagogues and announcing the Good News about the Kingdom.

And wherever He went, He healed people of every sort of disease and illness. He felt great pity for the crowds that came, because their problems were so great and they didn’t know where to go for help. They were like sheep without a shepherd.”

Matthew 9:35-36

Meaning of His Name:

As Jesus and His disciples pushed their way through a crowd of insistent well-wishers, one woman reached out to Him to brush the hem of His coat with her fingers. A whisper of desperation in a life gone wrong. Her ailment eluded the experts and alienated her family.

Do you know how she felt?  Alone, desolate, on the edge of despair?

Maybe its time you did something about it.  You see, Jesus did go about healing people overwhelmed by sin sickness, and He hasn’t stopped.  Sure, their bodies presented the problem upfront; deafness, blindness, people paralyzed, and lame.  He healed diseases that ate away at bodies and illnesses that devoured minds. And somehow, in every encounter, He got to the heart of the problem.  He asked if they really wanted to be healed.

Do you?  Are you sure?

Freedom from sin and healing from debilitating disease comes at a cost. Jesus didn’t just randomly go around healing folks.  He studied His subjects carefully before He allowed His power to penetrate their lives.  He knew the price they would pay for wholeness.  And He knows that most of us get mighty comfortable propped up in our bed of weakness.  Our identity, our energy, our attention, our reason to connect gets all wrapped up in the throbbing pain that defines our existence. Without that what is left? Without my problem, who am I?

So I echo the words of the Great Physician: What do you want?

If you are absolutely certain that you want out from that sin-disease that entangles you, then by all means, go to Him.

Push through every obstacle,

get up as close as you can,

and grab hold of the hem of His garment.

And then never, ever let Him go.

For He is….the great Physician.

From a heart that knows,

Diane

Luke 8:40-56

Matthew 10:34-39

Luke 7:1-9

Luke 7:10-17

Luke 7:22-23

James 5:13-16

Matthew 20:32, Mark 10:51,52, Luke 18:41-43

I’d like to introduce you all to a very dear friend of mine. We met at the awkward age of 14 in the Middle of Nowhere, British Columbia.  Well, technically there was a town (Houston) within driving distance of Rock Nest Ranch, the camp my youth group was working at, and Melinda grew up there.

We bonded scrubbing outhouses and cleaning dishes and spent the next three school years writing long epistles to each other and sending them to each other via snail mail.  We lived for the summers when my youth group would traverse the 1,000 miles north into British Columbia to spend six weeks working at camp.  Melinda and a handful of Houston residents would come out to work at the camp too and we vowed to remain “friends forever.”

(Melinda and I at camp when we first met)

“Forever” ended up being a year or two before we lost track of each other.  Seventeen years passed before we found each other on Facebook and we giggled as we exchanged long epistles, this time over email, catching each other up on our lives.  Melinda, like me, felt the big city calling her.  She fled from her small town and embraced life as a city girl.  Fancy coffee, shopping, and fine dining…  she was in heaven.  She swore there were three things she would never do: move back to Houston, get married, and have children.

But God has a sense of humor and she fell in love with a high school classmate who makes his living logging the remote land surrounding Houston.  Love triumphed over city life and she found herself packing up, moving back to Houston, and marrying Ron.  Neither of them planned for children, but God gave them two sons in rapid-fire succession and they fell helplessly head-over-heels in love with Lucas (3 ½ years) and Ryan (1 ¾ years).

(Melinda, Ron, Lucus and Ryan)

The lesson here is “Never say never.”

In July 2010 one of the deepest fears of every mother became a reality for Melinda.  She was diagnosed with thyroid cancer.  It brings tears to my eyes just to write this, but Melinda has accepted this diagnosis with more grace and dignity than I knew was possible.  She has used the cancer as a chance to count her blessings and in the past nine months has been intentional about finding God’s blessing in even the simplest things.

She wrote me today to tell me she’s been following the posts on He Speaks in the Silence and was inspired to join us on our quest to better health.  I’ll let her share her heart with you.

“So… I am horribly out of shape.  I haven’t run since I was 7 months along with my FIRST child and he’s 3 ½ years old now.  I have spondylitis, arthritis and my core is so out of whack that if I lay down on my tummy, I stay there for hours.  And now I have cancer.

But after reading your blog, I got out and started moving.  I haven’t been able to run a lot, but have speed walked/jogged slow 19km total this week and will have 13 more before the week is done. I am going to run 10km by June 11^th, the way you girls are, I’ll just be doing it up here with the bears and deer instead of people.

I have lots of excuses.

• My husband is literally gone from 1 a.m. to 6 p.m. and when he is home, he wants to sleep.  I have very limited time without my kids to go out and run.
• The snow is still above my knees here and the highest temp we’ve had so far has been 41°F, but I am so excited to get on this.
• I am going to be sick and in treatment for a good two weeks before June.
• I have never been an athlete.  I am as uncoordinated as it comes.

Excuses schmexcuses…

A number of years ago I discovered I can jog and that God uses jogging to keep my body healthy.  But it also keeps my mind and soul healthy and I need that now more than ever.  In four years I’ll be 40.  I told Ron last night that maybe I’ll aim for a marathon at 40.  Who knows?

I am telling you, I WILL run 10 km on June 11^th with you girls.  Will you pray for me if you think of it?  I don’t want excuses to stop me.”

Girls, will you commit to pray that Melinda will feel our fellowship as she runs her 10K in the rugged mountains of northern British Columbia while we run the rolling hills outside Portland?  Since you’re before the throne of the Almighty God, will you also ask Him to rid her body of cancer and restore her to perfect health?

If Melinda can do it, so can you.  She’s extending her hand to you, from her couch to yours.  Won’t you grab it?

Persevering with You,

Jodi

Don’t Forget:

1. Join Diane and I at the new runner’s clinic this Tuesday night at 7pm at Portland Running Company (read more about it here)

2. Click the Join Us icon to the right of this post and let us know you are with us!

3. Register for the Helvetia 10k or half marathon (click here to register)

The beauty of this name of God is unsurpassed.

Literally rendered, with us is God, the name echoes both the longing of God’s heart towards us and our aching emptiness without Him.

One of Satan’s most effective ploys seems to be to make use feel isolated— like nobody knows what’s going on with us, nobody understands, nobody really cares.

Alone.

Jacob’s solitary flight from his raging brother took him away from all that was safe and familiar. After several days of traveling along the ridge road through the hill country, watching his back in fear of Esau, Jacob fell exhausted to the ground near the town of Luz. Finding no shelter, he lay down to sleep with a stone for a pillow. There he slept the sleep of one exhausted from anxiety, tormented by regrets and feelings of failure. He had sinned, and that sin left him alone and afraid, his future uncertain.

Sometime during the night, Jacob had a dream. He saw a stairway between heaven and the earth he lay on. Coming up and down through that portal, Jacob saw angels busy about their task of bringing messages to the sons of men and help to the people of God.

And that’s when he heard this astonishing news that God was with him.

“I will be with you and will protect you wherever you go.

I will someday bring you safely back to this land.

I will be with you constantly until

I have finished giving you everything I have promised.”

(Gen.28:15)

Jacob woke with a start! Could it be? Had he heard right? Was God really promising to be with him no matter what? In spite of his mistakes, regardless of his failures?

The very idea scared him to death! For him to realize that God was with him changed everything.  “Surely”, Jacob remonstrated, “God is in this place and I wasn’t even aware of it.”

From the beginning of Creation, God has made His presence known to His people.  With Adam and Eve as they strolled together through the garden during the cool morning hours, with Abraham as he dreamed of a better life, even with Paul as he fiercely fought against His plan.

God was with each of them.  And God is with you.

Do you believe that?  Really?  Do you believe that God is with you in the good times and the bad, no matter what?  It’s easy to believe that God is with us when we’re surrounded by raised hands, swaying to the sounds of worship.  But what about when you’re afraid? Or alone?  Or ashamed?

Hold on to the hope of His presence.  Cling to Him when you’ve sinned and when you’ve failed.  Run to Him when no one else understands.

He is… God with us.

From My Heart,

Diane

Isaiah 7:14

Matthew 1:22,23

Genesis 28:15

Matthew 28:20

Psalm 139

Joshua 1:5

Joshua 1:9

John 14:3

Hebrews 13:5

Isaiah 43:2-5

C’mon Ladies. You know you want to get on this bandwagon…  You had a night to sleep on it.  Have you lost your resolve?  Or are you more excited this morning than when you went to bed last night?  Either way, let’s get you moving forward before you change your mind.  We’ve got some sweating to do.

1. Tell someone of your commitment to fitness. We need the accountability and encouragement that comes from voicing our commitment out-loud.  If you’re single, tell a bunch of your girlfriends and rope them into this journey with you.  If you’re married, get your spouse on board.  See if he is willing to schedule a fitness plan that allows both of you to exercise consistently.  This worked really well for Curt and I. Use your spouse or your friends to encourage you to get back at it when you fall off your training routine and celebrate each victory you have.  Don’t worry.  There will be a lot to celebrate.

2. Let us know you’re on board. Please take the time to “Sign Up” by going to the Not Your Own web page (http://www.hespeaksinthesilence.com/category/not-your-own/), clicking the hyperlink in the right hand corner under “Sign Up,” and giving us your contact information.

3. Get familiar with the Not Your Own webpage, a one-stop spot for all our Solid Rock athletes. Elizabeth Mosser has worked really hard to design an easy-to-use web page with all the info you need.  You’ll get encouraging blog posts, find a countdown to race day, a place to sign up, and a toolbox filled with helpful links for all your training needs.  There’s even a subscription box where you can sign up to have each Not Your Own blog post show up in your mailbox.

4. Gear Up. Ladies, please don’t miss this. If you want to avoid injury, it’s imperative that you get proper footwear. Please do not go to a department store, pick the cutest pair of tennis shoes, and start running.  This is a recipe for disaster.  You need to go to a running specific store and work with trained salespeople for an individualized shoe fitting.  A good store will analyze your gait by watching you run either on a treadmill or outside and then fit you with a shoe specific to your fitness goals and your running stride.  Check out the Toolbox for a list of local running stores that offer this service. More →

I have always been a tomboy.  My poor mom would send me to school all prim and proper and I’d emerge hours later a bedraggled mess – socks around my ankles, hair in tangles, uniform askew.  I tried to be a lady.  Really I did.  But being the recess tetherball champion carried more clout than being ladylike and my mom resigned herself to mending holey tights and slapping band-aids on perpetually skinned knees.

I was exposed to team sports in 7^th grade and athletics became my passion.  I was no super star, but quickly realized that discipline and consistent hard work result in improvement.  Quitting was never an option.  I took pride in being part of a team, sharing both the pain of defeat and the glory of victory.  It was as an athlete that I felt the beauty of encouragement, embraced the spirit of competition, and learned the power of endurance… pushing myself harder and faster. It was empowering.

Being an athlete became a large piece of my identity and played a significant role in my life through high school, college, and early adulthood.  I met my husband, Curt, on the softball field.  We got engaged on roller blades.  I wore white tennis shoes under my fancy wedding dress.

(Curt and I when we first met)

When Curt started graduate school, we learned to run together.  Those after-dinner hours running the Lake Michigan neighborhood around our apartment were the only concentrated time we had together during the week.  Curt, true to his personality, methodically added milage over time.  I ran in fits and starts.  Some days I felt like I could run forever and I’d run fast and furious.  Other days, it was all I could do to make it out of the parking lot without feeling like I might keel over and die.

Our flirtation with running didn’t last.  Curt graduated and we fell headfirst into babies.  They came in rapid-fire succession (1-2-3-4) and my life consisted of diapers, nursing, trips to the park and years of interrupted sleep.  I tried to get back into some form of regular exercise but motivation was as hard to come by as sleep.   When our youngest daughter was 15 months, I had an epiphany.  I still thought of myself as an athlete but in reality I was an exhausted, overweight, out-of-shape mom who got winded walking up the stairs.

(all of us 4 years ago)

Curt and I determined to reclaim our health.  A gym membership didn’t fit our budget, but we could afford to buy new running shoes and start pounding the pavement again.  We set a goal that was attainable with our life stage and committed to run two mornings a week and once on the weekend.

In the beginning, it was miserable.  The first morning when I looked at the twenty degree temp on the thermometer, I almost scrapped the whole plan. Thankfully, my husband wouldn’t let me quit and forced me out of my nice warm bed and out the door.  I was painfully slow and my endurance was shot.  But I was running.  Slowly but surely the weeks ticked by, the pounds melted off and my self-esteem soared.  The athlete in me resurrected and on those days when I felt like I could run forever I dreamed of what it would be like to run a marathon. But who in their right mind can run 26.2 miles?

Four months after we started running, we attended a family reunion centered around a weekend of races.  Curt and I had toyed with the idea of running the 10K (6.2 miles) but we had only worked up to three miles in our training.  Doubling the distance seemed ridiculously far and slightly stupid.  Two nights before the 10K, my aunt pulled me aside and said, “Your uncle and I know you can run the half-marathon tomorrow.  You can do whatever you set your mind to.  We want to pay for your entry fee and we’ll be there to celebrate with you when you cross the finish line.”

(after the half-marathon in Sunriver)

I stared at her in disbelief.  A 10K was a major stretch for me and she wanted me to run 13.1 miles?  I wasn’t even sure I’d packed my running shoes.  I was convinced she was crazy, but her confidence in me was infectious.  If she thought I could do it, then maybe, just maybe I really could.

Sleep evaded me all night.  As dawn broke, I kissed Curt and our four kiddos goodbye and started the long walk to the athlete’s village.  My hands trembled as I timidly paid my registration fee.  What on earth was I doing? This was pure insanity.

The gun went off and my anxiety melted away as I let the reality of what I was doing soak in.  I was running a half-marathon!  At each mile marker, I threw myself a little party, no pity involved.  When I hit the halfway point, I decided that unless I got hurt, I would run every step.  No walking for this athlete.  Mile by mile, one foot in front of the other, all the way to the finish line where my family waited.  They screamed their heads off as I crossed the finish line weeping. I will never forget that day.

Finishing that race upright and alive gave me the confidence to pursue my dream of running an entire marathon.  Three months later I hesitantly took my place at the starting line of what ended up being the hottest marathon in Chicago’s history.  Temps topped out at 88°F with heat indexes soaring into the high 90’s.  Athletes collapsed by the hundreds causing race officials to do the unthinkable – shut a race down with thousands of runners still on the course.  Runners who hadn’t reached the halfway point were diverted to the start and finish area, while those on the second half of the course were advised to drop out, walk or board cooling buses.  I was ahead of the buses so my family continued the pursuit to the finish with me, chasing me around the marathon course and providing encouragement to finish what I started when quitting seemed like the only sane option.  Stumbling across the finish line of that race was fantastic!

(Curt and I after the Chicago Marathon)

It’s been four years since Curt and I sat down at our kitchen table and committed ourselves to fitness.  In those four years, I’ve learned yoga, pilates, strength training, cross training, and cycling.  I had knee surgery and couldn’t run for six months so I took swimming lessons.  In my first lesson I discovered a paralyzing fear of being under the water.  For the next year I forced myself into the pool twice a week. When the panic would attack fast and furious, I chanted over and over, “God did not give me a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” (II Timothy 1:7) For good measure I’d add, “Just keep swimming.” By the grace of God (and a lot of help from Curt), I finished my first triathlon last summer and lived to tell about it.

(Curt and I at my first triathlon)

What’s your story?  Have you buried your inner athlete?  Are you ready to dust her off, tie on some new running shoes, and get out there?

Does reading this get your palms sweaty, your heart racing and your pulse pounding?  Are you thinking, “Maybe, just maybe I could do that too…”  Let me assure you, YOU CAN. You can do whatever you set your mind to.  Remember, “God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”

Won’t you join me, Diane, and the women of Solid Rock at Hillsboro Stadium on June 11^th and write your own story to fitness?  I’m excited to walk this journey with you and I’ll be there to celebrate with you at the finish line.

Check back tomorrow for details on how to get started. I can’t wait to see you on race day!

Persevering with You,

Jodi

“And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you,

for power is perfected in weakness.”

Therefore I am well content with

weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties,

for Christ’s sake;

for when I am weak, then I am strong.”

2 Corinthians 12:9,10

Paul had a problem. Some sort of sickness had settled into his eyes that caused people to be repulsed by him. And this for a man who spent every moment of every day dealing with people—before Facebook and email and twitter and blogs made talking face-to-face obsolete.

“A messanger from Satan”, he called it, “a thorn in the flesh”.

It nagged him constantly, interrupted his whole life.

He wanted it away.

I can just imagine how people tried not to stare. You know that thing people do when they don’t want to look at you but they can’t help it? It happens to me every summer when the weather gets hot and I sweep my hair off my neck into a ponytail.  There, for the whole world to see, is this big ugly computer thingy stuck to my head with a magnet.

Not exactly a fashion statement.

And people wonder what is that thing? And they try to look at me without looking at it. I hate that.

Paul knew exactly what to do with his problem. He decided to pray it away.

The first time Paul prayed must have been really dramatic. I mean this was Paul! The preacher who’d raised a teenager from the dead when the poor guy fell asleep during the sermon and fell out the window. Must have fallen right on his noggin, cuz he died right then and there. Which, of course, didn’t deter preacher Paul at all. He just went outside, put his praying hands on the guy and healed him. Told him to get back upstairs and listen to the rest of his message. Which he did.[1]

So can you imagine how confident Paul must have felt when he first prayed for healing?

But nothing happened. Nothing.

His eyes still seeped ugliness and people still stared.

He tried again, a little quieter this time. Please? Nothing.

By this time Paul was desperate… and perplexed. Wasn’t God listening? Didn’t He care? Couldn’t He see how this disease was affecting Paul’s life and ministry? He reminded God how much glory He’d get by healing up this mess which couldn’t possibly be God’s wonderful plan for best his life.[2]

By now Paul was not simply asking God to heal him, he’d upped the intensity to entreating.

I entreated the Lord three times that it might depart from me.

That’s when Paul got his answer: NO.

No, I’m not going to heal you. No, I’m not going to make this messy thing go away. Not even if you are serving Me and sacrificing for Me. My answer is still NO. And furthermore, My grace is sufficient for you Paul. Even with seeping eyes and staring friends. You are weak. But I am strong and that’s the point. I’m strong and I’m enough.

So I’m going to leave you with this disgusting eye thing and you’re going to get stronger and mightier because of it.

Because of Me.

And you know what is amazing to me about this story? Paul simply said, Okay. He didn’t whine, or pout, or even share how he felt about the No.

Gosh.

Sometimes God says No.

We don’t have to understand it or agree with it or like it. But if we’re going to have half a chance at happiness in the midst of it, we are going to have to do what Paul did and say okay.

That is the only possible way we’re going to be, deep down in our souls, content with all the weaknesses, distresses, and difficulties that go along with the thing you wish you didn’t have. And when some misguided soul pats your hand and says, well, I’m sure its for the best dearie, you’re going to have to restrain yourself from biting her dear sweet head off.

Sometimes that okay is the toughest thing you’ll ever say.

Okay to that thing you really think you ought to have but He says no to. Okay without the reason and wherefores and whys. Just okay.

But when you say it…if you’ll say it… something magical and mystical begins to happen.

He makes it okay.

I know because…

When I finally stopped all my frantic ranting and raving and demanding that God give me back my hearing…

When I quieted enough to realize the audacity of my anger at God for not giving me what I wanted…

When, in a heap of feminine drama, I surrendered my dread of deafness and just said…

okay God, Your will, not mine…

That’s when He stepped in and gathered me close and whispered sweet wisdom into my brokenness.

That thing I didn’t want.  That thing I feared. That word I can hardly utter.

Became okay.

And here’s a bit of wisdom I’d never known ‘til now:

Before you know it, content creeps in. Then after a while you wonder what all that fuss was about anyway.

Because it really is okay.

From my heart,

Diane

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[1] Acts 20

[2] I’m ad libbing here.

Q: My child seems so quick to anger.  Is this just a stage that will go away with time and patience? His temper tantrums seem to be getting more intense and out of control. What is going on?

A: In the very beginning of God’s story of mankind, we read the terrible affects of anger when Adam and Eve’s firstborn son murdered his brother in a fit of jealous rage. From that point on, the Bible is filled with stories and warnings and wisdom about how to deal with anger in others and ourselves.

Anger, according to the Bible, starts in the heart. It festers and grows there like the blackberry bush in my backyard, popping up in unexpected places, threatening to choke the life out of all who are pricked by its thorns. In fact, anger follows a clear progression that every parent must be aware of early on in a child’s life.

Anger often starts with with a wounded spirit.

Someone denies him something he earnestly desires and he feels a sense of hurt. Sometimes that sense of woundedness is simply willfulness. I want what I want and I want it now! At other times, this involves sin on someone’s part- an offense that genuinely causes pain. Both can lead to sinful anger.

Anger left unchecked then leads to bitterness.

If a child does not respond biblically to the offense, he will cultivate the seed of hurt by reviewing it over and over in his mind. This leads to a root of bitterness that has a defiling affect on those close to him.

1. Anger that continues down this path of destruction leads to characterological anger. This is what the Bible terms “an angry man”, or one who is “easily angered” and “hot tempered”. (Proverbs 22:24) Notice that anger does not start here, but this is where most parents realize that they have a problem.
2. Stubbornness is the next step along the escalation of anger in a child’s heart. I Samuel 15:23 uses this word that “paints a picture of a heifer pushing her front hooves into the ground to counteract her master who is trying to push or pull her forward.”[1] This child is fighting hard to become the ruler of his own destiny, rather than submitting his will to his parents.
3. Finally, the Scriptures speak of a rebellious child. This stage takes the child way beyond angry outbursts to a lifestyle of foolish behavior. (Eccl. 7:9) Rebellion rarely starts in high school. It begins with the first hint of hurt feelings and slowly escalates if left unanswered. A rebellious teenager is seething with angry feelings that have led to an angry way of thinking.

As you can see, your child’s anger is not going to go away all by itself. No child really out grows his anger, though his ways of expressing it may become less in-your-face than a two year old having a full blown temper tantrum. One wise woman gave me this advice many years ago:

Ask yourself how this behavior might play itself out in 10 years, and then decide whether you want to deal with it now-

A door slammed in anger now may turn into a teenager peeling out of the driveway in his car ten years from now.

A toy thrown across the room now may result in a fist in the face ten years from now.

Yelling in anger now may well lead to fierce intimidation and abusive speech ten years from now.

Frightening isn’t it?

That is why I believe that one of the most important things we parents can do is to teach AND train our children how to deal with the very real problem of anger in their lives.

This is not a quick fix. There is no magic pill to take or technique to master that will eliminate anger from their lives. But there are guidelines, which God gives us in His Word, that we can teach our children (and ourselves!) to follow.

I’ll write more next week about what the Bible teaches us about dealing with anger and how to train our children in those words of wisdom.

From My Heart,

Diane

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[1] The Heart of Anger by Lou Priolo, pg 22. This is a book well worth reading for every parent.