The Doctor

I sat in the surgical waiting area of a hospital on Tuesday the 8th of May. I was there to support a very dear friend who was going through back surgery. The long hours turned into people watching of the deepest kind. I watched as the surgical nurse would come for her patient, call out the name and ask the inevitable question "are you ready?" to which almost every patient would answer "i guess so". I walked out and about the room picking up pieces of conversations and watching nervous family members and friends crumble at the words of a doctor who would try to reassure the person in waiting they did their very best and a full recovery was expected...or hoped for.

I started thinking about how so many of us are patients in the hospital of life, we move about unsuspecting of the time when our name is called up. A whisper is spoken across our world and suddenly we are being prepped for surgery. Our once perceived whole bodies are readied and laid out in preparation for the Doctors handiwork. What once was an unblemished canvas of skin (or life) is now cut into and bleeding. We tremble at the sight of the suffering blood and without knowing we are there to be healed, we cry out in pain because the cut is not restoration to us, only damage. Silently the Doctor works His way into our Spiritual bodies, cutting deeper to remove the cancer of sin or to mend the cause of our pain. Only as we begin to recover do we see the handiwork of the Doctor. We slowly begin to feel the added strength of restoration our Spirit has (unbeknownst to us) been longing for. Suddenly, we are out of the hospital, mended from the brokenness, or the sin, or the deep rooted transgression that was silently killing us...and we gently touch the emotional scar where the Doctor cut so deep and thankfully bow to the sweet grace of a saved life.

For my friend, her call for healing had been sweeping across the clouds of heaven for a time. Isaiah 65:24 says this: Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking I will hear. The Doctor had listened, and without us knowing had planned healing for her beyond our comprehension or understanding and at 33, her restoration would be evident in death.

You see if we consistently cry out for healing and redemption, we should not be so surprised when the whisper is spoken and the Doctor without asking removes the pain from which our bones have been so burdened. So often we lament to our Savior without faith that He hears us. All the while the Doctor, the Creator of Healing Himself is waiting in the wings, listening to our every pained cry. We say we have faith, we believe in the One true God, but we never expect Him to really heal us. We might unrealistically dream to be given a magic pill that takes the burden away, but the idea we may have to be cut and bleed for the change to take place never occurs to us. The thought we might hurt in the process of changing is not an option. The possibility we don't even know we are sick before we end up on the Doctors table has never crossed our minds. I'm confident we may never fully understand His way of healing us. We may cry out in prayer, never expecting to be heard, but this I can assure you of: He hears us and before we call, He is ready to answer.

Psalm 10:17 You hear, O LORD, the desire of the afflicted;
you encourage them, and you listen to their cry

Psalm 34:5-7 Those who look to him are radiant;
their faces are never covered with shame. This poor man called, and the LORD heard him;
he saved him out of all his troubles. The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them.

I am not one to boast the Doctor has never cut deep into my flesh. I have scars I will cherish forever, some small, some so large they will never or should ever be disguised. I was not anticipating the decision of my Father to take my friend home, but I rest peacefully in His judgment, His wisdom, His skillful touch and His sovereignty. Even in this loss I can feel the scalpel cutting deep into my flesh, digging for whatever He sees needs out of me. So I will praise Him as He works, cling to Him when the pain is too much, and rest in His arms as I heal from His cuts all the while knowing the scar it leaves behind is the change I need.

What Matters

Yesterday we attended the funeral for fallen soldier Matthew R. Vandegrift. The testimony of how he lived his life and the life of the parents who raised him echoed in my ears as I climbed into our car for a very quiet drive home. The morning was sad, but so filled with God. I was so humbled and grateful from the front seat of my car to have been a part of such an amazing ceremony where the main event of the day was Jesus saves, not a soldier is dead. The whole idea of the morning struck a question of how many people in that room really got what matters. This family did a tremendous job of sharing the risen Savior with the crowd and that matters. The idea of it brought me to my mental knees of how to live a life that shows what matters. Catch that…I don’t want to live a life that matters, because then it is about me…I want to live a life that SHOWS what and who matters.

In front of us a brand new white Audi TT moved in position to lead the way up the street. Temporary plates hung in the back window as my eyes rested on the sleek vehicle gliding up the way. It was a brilliant white and the leather seemed so perfect I could almost smell it from the front seat of my beat up Bonneville. Then as my eyes fell to the back of the car I was struck by something unexpected; the brilliant, silver Audi symbol on the back of the car was perfectly in place and underneath it…barely visible, unless you were very close an Ichthys (fish symbol). The air escaped my lungs, but I could barely take another breath in. Don’t get me wrong, the fact the person who owned this car was willing to stand out for what they believed in was admirable. But I couldn’t help wonder if they knew how they had just minimized the body of Christ by using a symbol of modern day Babylon to denigrate the representation of Christ. Then it dawned on me as a society we have so minimized God that He is just that, a symbol of something we believe in, but not big enough to stand out as something we would die for. We live in a society where we could scarcely believe someone would die for our freedom, because the gesture is not viewed as a grand one, but something that just doesn’t make sense. We have so minimized the God we serve that we can’t even fathom Him being bigger than what is right in front of our eyes. We can’t comprehend the sacrifice of God’s only son for our freedom, but what really matters is how shiny the car is, not the One who blessed us enough to buy the car in the first place. Whether the point was not to mess the backside of the car up with TWO big symbols, or to make sure everyone knew it really was an Audi seemed pointless to me. Why even put the symbol on there if you couldn’t see it? If God can’t be a bigger symbol on your car than the car symbol itself, what was the point?

What really matters? The life of Matthew matters and still does. I could go on forever regarding the ignorance of people who were bold enough to post messages under news articles about the loss of his life and how senseless it was, but what really matters is this: it isn’t about the price Matthew paid for our freedom today, but the price that was paid for his freedom for eternity. Whether YOU believe it as useless or senseless that your freedom has already been paid for doesn’t matter. It has, and there is no changing it. Leave your comments wherever you must. Spread your ignorance across the globe, but guess what…it doesn’t matter. Someday your comments as well as your useless perspective will be obliterated from the face of this earth and when you stand before the throne of the ONE WHO MATTERS, truth will arise. He is bigger and will remain bigger than anything you can imagine…yes even bigger than the Audi symbol on the back of a brand new beautiful car.

So tomorrow is the BIG day. Our final test for baby and mommy and we get to find out what we are having. How amazing our Father is and how crazy this road He has us on. This weekend I had the opportunity to minister to some women at a conference where we spoke on the 4th man in the fire and I was able to share our walk through the fire. I was just about paralyzed by a stupid migraine the whole weekend and was so frustrated that my first speaking engagement on such a sensitive subject would have the added pain of feeling like I couldn't keep my right eye open from the pain.

I don't have much to say other than I am blessed. Out of the million things I wanted to speak on, I left out my life motto that we believe God is good even if....and even when.

So before tomorrow I wanted to publicly tell my Father you are good even if...tomorrow is held in your hands and we will praise you no matter what.

You are good even if and even when and I am still so blessed to be in your care and in your grace.

I love you.

On December 24th, 2006 my best friend and another sweet friend gave me a gift. Bigger than normal gifts, it was not merely a gift found in a perfect package, but one of self sacrifice. I had been praying I would make it through Christmas and the end of the year before Isaac came. In silence the two joined me by fasting without my knowledge to pray that we would make it. To commemorate my journey they also gave me a charm bracelet with two sets of baby booties: one for a girl, and one for a boy. Both charms had my sweet little ones name engraved on them...but only one so far had a birth date. Not much time needed to pass before we had the date January 2nd, 2007 engraved on Isaac's charm and that bracelet became my link to him. I would wake up feeling like I'd climbed a mountain and just the touch of my baby charms made me feel reconnected with life. I hung on to it and held it close to me at all times because it was so so precious, yet somehow...in the summer of 2007...my bracelet disappeared. Up until a few weeks ago, I would still tear the house apart and cry all the while for God to bring it back. It had been almost a year, and it had been such a hard year. I thought for sure God was going to deliver us out of the pit we had ended up in. That my husband would find a new job, that business would be good, that everything around me would be glorious ALL because I had been obedient. Talk about some shame. January 2nd 2008 rolled around and I could not lift my eyes up to heaven for fear of being called out as a total fraud. I stood in the shower adding more tears to the water than the pipes where asking our Father to please forgive me, please heal my unbelief, that I really did trust Him and I would follow Him "Even if..." and "Even when".

As the words rolled off my tongue my phone rang. Wet arms grabbed the call as my husband was trying to reach me to give me the news that he had been offered a new job...minutes away from home...and more money...and he was so happy. The later was all I cared about. The tone of his voice was relieved and peaceful...and he quietly said to me "baby, it's all going to be ok...2008 is really going to be our year". Only moments before I had felt so defeated, I felt like nothing would change and now...NOW...I was carrying another baby and what would that mean for this little one. What if beyond Isaac's purpose in Heaven, it was also a test for my faith and life. Had I passed? Would I have to take the test again? What would prove me authentic? Would God ever really have all of me...ALL the time? You see, I know He has me, but like so many of us, I fall short of the consistency of ALL the time. I so desperately want to give Him ALL of me ALL the time. He is not here for crisis management. He's the creator of the day timer for Pete's sake! He is our every second, of every day. All of me....

So between January 2nd and January 18th, things started to change, but an upset started in the Pipkin house I was not prepared for. I found out a few days before Isaac's birthday that the cemetery had never delivered and placed Isaac's headstone. To make a very long story short, the DA was called to be involved, attorneys' were alerted, the media was contacted and my husband turned into a Lion...and the manager of the cemetery quickly promised my husband the headstone would be in place no later than the 20th of January. So now the 18th rolled around. Hallie was with Grandma and Grandpa Pipkin while Jason and I goofed off and eventually met the greatest friends we have ever been blessed with at the Melting Pot for a beautiful dinner. Dessert rolled around and our waiter came over after passing the plates around and said to me "let me go ahead and change out that plate for you" and placed a new plate with a gift on it in front of me. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what was going on, but I looked at Joni and realized the shape of the box and started crying right away. The box contained a bracelet...a new one...and new charms were on their way. It was a new beginning. A new bracelet...a new start...God's timing was as usual perfect.

This week has a lot. Let me break down what I believe is truly the beginning for us:
Saturday - new bracelet
Sunday - Isaac's headstone was confirmed in place, and Hallie...the big sister got to finally see where her brother was laid to rest
Sunday afternoon - my Bible study so appropriately was on Abraham and the test of sacrificing Isaac - I cried all the way through as I remembered it's not the test but our obedience that is important - Will we give Him all of us...ALL the time
Tuesday - Jason starts his new job
Thursday - the test to know if our new baby is ok.
Friday - just breath and praise Him "even if...and even when..."

6 Days...& Trying NOT To Count

I had a fantastic closing today where God granted me the opportunity to share His recent moment of glory in my life. As I spoke the words I could feel myself checking that balance of belief vs. forced comments. It is so hard to not make the words a routine. The battle rages on in my heart to become as authentic as He wants me to be and I just fail time and time again. In any case...it just dawned on me one year ago this time I was sitting with my family around me waiting for the days to roll past with great anticipation of what was to come. Terrified my heart would not survive it, already broken by the uncertain future, but most of all...resigned that God is good...even if.

Faith in the midst of tragedy. Standing firm for who God called you to be even if you don't like the road you just ended up on. Actually...forget the word like...it's more like crawling out of your skin, wish you were a different person, want to run away from all of it, forget this road I'm on... You get the point. You face the waves of life daily, but this is the monsoon. You wake up in the morning and pull the covers over your head when you realize it really wasn't a dream and this is reality.

Somehow...somewhere in the midst of the pain and agony resonating through your body (a very physical pain) you steal moments with the Father that bring inexplicable joy. You pour over the book of Isaiah filled with the promise of redemption and life everlasting, allowing your tears to spill onto the words of the page, marking them forever with the memory of that moment...and He holds you and whispers "Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." In the sobs of the greatest pain of your life you breath in His joy...because He is peace in the midst of trials, joy in the pain of agony, love in the world love lost, comfort in the place that can't be comforted...He is God...and He is there...and He is good...even if.

So as the days approach and the sadness of what was lost grows, the joy of what was gained increases more. The day should not be filled with shadows or grieving. Tears will flow, but so will His mercy...and I will remember the words so sweetly spoken to my heart "Do you not know? Have you not heard? I AM the everlasting God..."

anger...

There are a few things that really get me. Not a lot makes me mad, some things irratate me, but overall...I rarely get angry...right now I'm angry. There are two things I've learned to hate. The first is this: Don't tell me God doesn't give me things I can't handle...so I should be just fine. As far as I'm concerned that is a load of crap. Daily...DAILY He allows things to plague our lives that level us, bring us to our knees, flat on our faces only to be there begging Him to pick us up. Who ever said that? Did you think it was scriptural? Because it's not. When Jesus was tempted in the desert He said that God does not allow us to be tempted beyond what we can handle. That is nothing compared to getting the worse blow of our lives and wondering how on earth we are going to survive this one. Well...we don't. I think that's the whole point. Knowing when we can not, without the Fathers power, make it one more day. We submit to total devistation and we pray, and we cry and we scream and we expect for God to pick us up. Why? Because He said He would. Now THAT is scriptural.

Psalm 34:17
The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles

Psalm 55:17
Evening, morning and noon I cry out in distress, and he hears my voice

My second thing: there is not a nerve in my body that would ever begin to compare our losing Isaac with a parent to who has lost a child they have had at home with them for 5 years. What is that? Do you honestly think they are comprable? How is it you could tell someone who just lost their child that you know how they feel because you lost your baby when you were 8 weeks pregnant? Yes, it was probably horrible, it was difficult, yes you loved that baby too...but don't think for a second it is the same. Life is painful. But there are measures of pain. Burning your finger hurts a heck of a lot less than getting third degree burns all over you body. Don't minimize what a friend has just experienced by labeling your story to it thinking you have a margin of a clue about how they feel.

I know I sound angry today. This is not the voice of the woman who is usually full of reason and understanding. I lost that at some point this evening when I read a comment that sent me through the roof. I remember how that felt to have someone compare their tragedy to mine...it's not right. Let the person grieve and understand...you don't know how they feel unless you too...just lost a 5 year old boy to brain cancer.

On another note...I'm so ready for Him to take us home. I'm so weary fo this world we live in and this is the promise I'm holding on to today:

Isaiah 65:20
"Never again will there be in it an infant who lives but a few days, or an old man who does not live out his years"

A brave boy...

Yesterday, through streams of tears and shaking hands, I tried so hard to remember God has a purpose for our lives that does not end on this earth.

It is so easy for us to get caught up in this 'here and now' and we forget our lives aren't random happenings that just are. God wove our spirit into our little bodies and knew from the beginning of time what our purpose would be. I knew when we lost Isaac, when those words were spoken, his life had a purpose, even in death.

Alex, you have a purpose still. We will miss you and will always remember your bright smilling face that would light up any room and we will dedicate every pancake we eat from this day forward to your memory.