He Loves Us - A Father's Day Tribute

Everyone was screaming, "RUN!" I was doing everything I could to get my 10 year old roly-poly body to move as fast as it could. I was running from 3rd base to Home plate. The outfielder from the other team was throwing the ball home. I just had to beat the ball. I heard my Daddy yell, "GET DOWN! SLIDE!" Intensity filled me up inside, and I ran as fast as I could and slid (or more like crashed) into Home plate. Lying on my back with the catcher holding the ball the entire ballpark fell silent as the Umpire yelled, "SAFE." Woo Hoo!!! An uproar came from the stands, and I had a huge smile on my face. I made it Home safe. I scored for my team.

I have a really awesome Dad whom I call "Daddy". I don't call him "Pops", "Dad", "Pa", or "Father"...I am 27 years old, and I still call him "Daddy". There have been many times in my life that I had no clue what he was doing or why I had to do something, but he always had a purpose(well most of the time). My Daddy took my brother, my sister and I out in the front yard one Saturday. He laid down a blue tarp and got out the water hose. My Mama was smart enough to grab the video camera. The purpose of the day...He was going to teach us how to slide.
My siblings and I had to take turns running as fast as we could and then sliding into this blue tarp. There were many times that my sister and I would just keep running passing the tarp because we were too afraid to slide. Then there were times where we would run, stop at the blue tarp and just sit down really fast instead of sliding. I don't know why, but I have a fear of throwing myself down on the ground...others call it sliding. My brother was a natural and loved every minute of it, but I am pretty sure this is what my sister and I were thinking..."Why do we have to do this? I just want to go inside and play. This hurts. I'm getting dirty. UGH!" My Daddy took the time to teach us how to slide. He even gave us an example by sliding on the tarp himself. No matter how scared I was or ready to go in, my Daddy made me learn how to slide (the best I could) because he knew that one day I would need it. Why did he torture me? Because he loves me.

I go through periods of my life where I start treating God like a College Professor. I feel like I am in an auditorium of 500 students and there is a professor barking orders and giving out assignments. Sometimes the Professor is funny and cool, and other times he is really strict. When I get an "A" on an assignment, I am very thankful. When I miss an assignment or fail an assignment, I beg and plead for extra credit. Or sometimes I give every excuse I can hoping the Professor will change my grade. I have been feeling like this off and on for about 3 years now. I felt God calling me to be a Special Education Teacher, but nothing I did was working. I felt like God (The Professor) was closing every door that I tried to open. He kept failing me. I got mad at Him so many times. I kept saying, "Why are you putting me through this?" I tried everything and nothing was working.

Last night, I went to my Belmont Orientation. I sat through 2 hours of exciting information about the program I will begin soon. It hit me. I will be teaching Special Education in the fall, and earning my Masters. Out of all the programs I have applied for, this program is by far the best. I will be earning my Masters pretty much for FREE. After the orientation, I started the long walk to my car thanking God the whole time for this opportunity. "Professor, I am beginning to pass this assignment." I got in my car and when I started the engine, the radio was blaring, "Oh How He love us so, oh how He loves, How He loves us so." This is such a powerful song. My eyes began to tear up as soon as I heard the words.

God is NOT a College Professor. Sometimes I forget that God loves me. After 3 years of going through struggles of ups and downs, sometimes it would slip my mind that God loves me. When this song came on in the car I felt God saying, "Dana, I did not just give you extra credit. I am giving you this opportunity because I care about you and I love you. You are my child." It does take work to keep a relationship going, but I've been letting my relationship with God become work. So, whenever you're going through struggles, try not to forget the most important thing. God IS love, and He loves YOU. So remember this the next time you ask, "God, Why are you torturing me?" Because He loves you.

To hear this powerful song... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2FxaUYjRtkc&feature=related

Just Claim It!

I farted in front of a boy...and that's not the worse part!

It was 7th grade English class, and we were watching the movie "The Outsiders." We had just finished the book as a class, and then we got the privilege of taking a couple of days off of work to watch the movie. I wouldn't say that I was popular in middle school, but everyone knew of me. I was the chubby redheaded cheerleader that the squad kept around to help lift the little girls and tell them whether we were on defense or offense in the moment of the game. The lights had been turned off for the movie, and I found myself in the center of boys. I have always had guys as friends (which is another story all in itself...always the best friend.)So here I am surrounded by all of these guys. Amongst these boys, was my 7th grade crush. Pause for the hallelujah chorus and the wind slightly blowing open his buttoned shirt. So dreamy.

Do you know those moments where you have held in gas so long that your stomach is beginning to hurt? I was beginning to have gas pains. My dreamy 7th grade crush was sitting right beside me, and it took every muscle I had to squeeze my buns together. Oh...oh...oh...My strength was giving out. I was trying to act normal. I would giggle at all the right moments, and comment at all the right spots, but inside I was about to explode. My buns finally lost all strength, and it happened. "pbtpbtpbtpbt!" Yep, that's right. It was the motor boat kind. The one that was so loud it made a clapping noise against the chair. Suddenly, the look of shock came on each guys' face, but they had no clue where it came from. I quickly slumped to a level that I had never slumped to before. I pointed straight in front of me to the boy who could not speak a lick of English. He quickly started shaking his head saying, "No. No me. No me." The guys did not care what the boy had to say. They started picking on him and laughing at him. I felt so horrible. The poor kid just moved here from some little country far away, he can't speak our language, and now these guys were picking on him all because of me.

This memory has haunted me my whole life. Although it might be funny, I so wish I would have claimed it. To know that I blamed something on someone else for a guy that ended up in drugs and with many Baby's Mamas, makes me so sad. This got me thinking...

There is nothing I can do about this now. I must move on from it, but sometimes that is the hardest thing to do. We do this with sin as well. Many times we continue to live in the past and live in our failure. This is also where Satan likes for us to dwell. Many times our past sins and lifestyle are holding us back from moving forward. From doing God's work. From living for Him. We are not suppose to forget, but maybe we should just claim it, learn from it and move on. Claiming something does not mean that there will not be any aftermath. If I had claimed my "toot", there would have been jokes made at me, fingers pointed, laughter and a fowl odor to live through. But soon enough, the people forget, the embarrassment goes away, and the odor is no more.

I started wondering what I needed to claim to God. What sins or parts of my past am I not claiming? What am I holding on to? What am I blaming on others?

Whatever it is, I must claim it to Him. I must let Him have it. Only then will I be able to serve Him wholeheartedly.

So I tell you, "Just Claim it!"

Blessed

This morning I was driving in my car, crying and listening to a beautiful story of a mother and a son on the radio. I wasn't sure if it was the Holy Spirit grabbing a hold of my heart or my fragile emotions awaiting the arrival of "Aunt Flo", but my heart was touched. It was as if my heart was filled with water. Someone grabbed it and squeezed as hard as they could, and the water had no choice, but to flow out through my eyes as tears. The mother spoke about the life of her son, and how he passed at a young age. It automatically made me think of a dear friend of mine who has recently lost her son. Sadness filled me up instantly. The mother kept saying how "blessed" she was to have had him in her life. The word "blessed" came flowing out of her mouth over and over again like a wave that keeps crashing onto the shore. Blessed. Blessed. Blessed. I dried my eyes, parked the car and headed in for work.

The past few weeks or more, I have been stressed to the max. I have been trying to control my life, and I have been telling God what my plans should be. I've been mapping my life out trying to make things perfect. You know God won't allow that. I have NOT been using the word "blessed". My words have been more like "why", "how", "what", and "it's not fair". I have been mad. I have been complaining. I have been a spoiled little brat. Wow. How ungrateful I have been!

I am always amazed when people who are going through rough times can say that they are blessed. I am reminded of a precious lady in Mexico. I used to call her "My Mexican Grandma". She was always at the church working so hard for the Lord. Sometimes I was not able to understand a word she spoke to me, but I could feel her love that she had for me. One Sunday she invited me to her house for lunch. I arrived to her door and saw chickens pecking around the yard and a goat tied to a tree. I walked into her house and saw four make-shift beds in the first room. The floor was made of dirt and patches of concrete. There were four more make-shift beds in the second room. Eight beds in two very small rooms with ten people living there. It seemed there was no privacy. She led me to the kitchen which was about as big as my bathroom. We sat down at a small plastic table. She made me sit down in the only chair in the house while she used a bucket to sit on. The roof was a hand-me-down tin roof with holes all over it. You can tell where it was used on another house because the holes were where nails used to be. Many buckets were sitting around in case it were to rain. She fed me a delicious lunch of gorditas. I remember that we had good conversation, but I learned a new word that day. I lied to her in politeness and said, "I like your place." She looked around and said, "Bendito." Bendito means blessed. I was forever changed that day. What happened to me? How could I forget this moment? How could I be so absorbed with "the world" and act like a spoiled brat?

Romans 10:12 "For there is no difference between Jew and Gentile -- Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him."

This has been me lately...
Lord, I'm calling on You!!! I call on You day and night!!! Can you hear me?!? Do I have the wrong number?!? You are not blessing me like I want You to!!!

Throughout the day, I pondered the story of the mother and son, My Mexican Grandma and the way I've been acting here lately. My family was getting together for dinner for my Mama's Birthday. Before we left, I decided to say a little prayer...
Lord, Please open my eyes to see You in my life. Help me to see You work in my life. Help me to see the blessings You have given me. Please change my attitude.

I looked up the definition for "Blessed" before we left because I am weird like that.
Blessed - highly favored, fortunate, or enjoying the bliss of heaven.

We arrived at Famous Dave's and started enjoying each others' company. Before I knew it, I felt the waves of blessings beating up against the shore. My heart was overjoyed. Each wave would come in faster, bigger and strong. My eyes were open, and I saw the waves...Food - Blessed. Laughter - Blessed. Family - Blessed. Love - Blessed. I looked around and thought, "I AM highly favored with God. I AM fortunate. I AM enjoying the bliss of heaven. I AM Blessed."

Please don't be like me and get caught up in "the world." Open your eyes...You too are Blessed.