Week one of the new job is in the books. I can't believe how it has flown by. Each day I have spent time in different "rotations," working in the various departments and facilities owned and operated by the Roanoke Rescue Mission. On Day 1 I worked at the main reception desk and quickly realized how little I knew about the place, as time and again I answered phone callers' questions with "let me see if I can find someone who can answer that for you." Since then I have toured and helped out in all three of the Mission's thrift stores, it's art gallery and café, the Women's and Children's Center (homeless shelter), and it's free clinic. Last night I attended a networking dinner and today there was lunch with the Chamber of Commerce staff. The week capped off with Rally, the weekly Friday afternoon event to worship God and celebrate the accomplishments of men and women in the Mission's renowned recovery program. I What a privilege to get to work in this place, where lives are being transformed on a daily basis! Next week I will spend a full day with the Recovery program and another day split between the men's shelter and kitchen services, before finally starting in my position as Director of Development on December 1.
In each of my rotations, I have been warmly welcomed by people who are so passionate about what they do that it's contagious. Some of them are themselves success stories of the recovery program, eager to share their own stories of transformation. Others have given up more lucrative careers because they find their work in this ministry to be so rewarding.
The Roanoke Rescue Mission is an amazing place with amazing people, but it's all because of our amazing God. He made that even clearer to me on Tuesday at the Distribution Recycling Center, where I spent my afternoon. The DRC is the building which processes all the items dropped off at the donation centers. Clothing and shoes are sorted for distribution to the various thrift stores, appliances are tested and, if necessary, repaired. Kitchenware, toys, pillows and linens are cleaned and sanitized. Simply put, it is command central for making all the donated items ready for thrift store shelves.
Back to what God did. You see, I launched my career in TV news from that building when I was fresh out of college. It was Cox Cable at the time, and I reported and anchored a 5-minute local news cut-in on CNN Headline News called Roanoke Headline News. Tuesday, when I walked into the DRC's toy room, I realized it was my old news studio. As memories came flooding back, God whispered Isaiah 43:19 into my heart. "See, I am doing a new thing. Do you not perceive it?"
With that verse he reassured me yet again that just as that old abandoned building has been repurposed and brought back to life with this vital Rescue Mission ministry, God has also repurposed me and my talents for his kingdom work. Allowing me to re-launch into professional life from the very place where I got my start was a brilliant reminder of what God will do when I surrender my will to his.
I just love it when God does stuff like this, and I kind of think he takes delight in seeing his children with our minds blown when we actually connect the dots. I'm picturing him with a big ole grin on his face. He sure has put one on mine!
P.S. The Roanoke Rescue Mission operates solely through donations and with the help of about 5000 volunteers. If you would like more information, like us on Facebook and check out the website to see how you can get involved! http://rescuemission.net/
Friday, November 21, 2014
Thursday, November 13, 2014
Be Careful What You Ask For!
Inadequate. Unskilled. Old.
Just a few of the words that kept running through my mind as I prepared my resume. "Who would want me?" It was the question I lamented over and over until I eventually belittled myself into a tearful mess, and finally, at my wits' end, cried out to God.
"If you expect me to do anything meaningful at all, you're going to have to just drop it into my lap because it will never happen otherwise!"
Friends, don't dare God to do something unless you truly, sincerely mean it. Fortunately I did, because he did. Drop something into my lap. Literally, and so fast my head has not stopped spinning.
On a whim I responded to a job posting on Craigslist. A week later I was interviewed by phone. Five days after that I went for a face-to-face, where I was told before the interview even started that I was the person they wanted to hire so we would just use the interview time for me to ask whatever questions I might have. I was then invited to sit it on two meetings and meet the staff.
When, how, does that even happen?! If that's not God dropping something into your lap then I don't know what is!
Another visit ensued (which deserves a blog post of its own), references were contacted, and earlier this week a formal offer was made and accepted.
On Monday, after 17 years as a stay-at-home mom, I will re-enter the full-time work force as the Director of Development for the Roanoke Rescue Mission. I couldn't be more humbled and excited that God would allow me to combine my professional skills with my passion for ministry to lost and hurting people. I asked, and God delivered in a big way!
It's going to be a huge adjustment for our family, and to say that I'm a little scared would be quite the understatement. But because God has done this, I know he will be in the details. How blessed I have been to have had a wonderful, fulfilling career as a TV news reporter, then the opportunity to be at home to raise my family, and now this chance to finally pursue the ministry calling that God placed on my heart six years ago. I always believed it would happen some way, somehow. Suddenly, the studies, the trainings, the experiences, and the people in crisis who have "randomly" shown up in my life through the years all make sense. I am not inadequate, unskilled, old (okay maybe a little old) because God has been teaching me and preparing me all these years...for such a time as this.
Just a few of the words that kept running through my mind as I prepared my resume. "Who would want me?" It was the question I lamented over and over until I eventually belittled myself into a tearful mess, and finally, at my wits' end, cried out to God.
"If you expect me to do anything meaningful at all, you're going to have to just drop it into my lap because it will never happen otherwise!"
Friends, don't dare God to do something unless you truly, sincerely mean it. Fortunately I did, because he did. Drop something into my lap. Literally, and so fast my head has not stopped spinning.
On a whim I responded to a job posting on Craigslist. A week later I was interviewed by phone. Five days after that I went for a face-to-face, where I was told before the interview even started that I was the person they wanted to hire so we would just use the interview time for me to ask whatever questions I might have. I was then invited to sit it on two meetings and meet the staff.
When, how, does that even happen?! If that's not God dropping something into your lap then I don't know what is!
Another visit ensued (which deserves a blog post of its own), references were contacted, and earlier this week a formal offer was made and accepted.
On Monday, after 17 years as a stay-at-home mom, I will re-enter the full-time work force as the Director of Development for the Roanoke Rescue Mission. I couldn't be more humbled and excited that God would allow me to combine my professional skills with my passion for ministry to lost and hurting people. I asked, and God delivered in a big way!
It's going to be a huge adjustment for our family, and to say that I'm a little scared would be quite the understatement. But because God has done this, I know he will be in the details. How blessed I have been to have had a wonderful, fulfilling career as a TV news reporter, then the opportunity to be at home to raise my family, and now this chance to finally pursue the ministry calling that God placed on my heart six years ago. I always believed it would happen some way, somehow. Suddenly, the studies, the trainings, the experiences, and the people in crisis who have "randomly" shown up in my life through the years all make sense. I am not inadequate, unskilled, old (okay maybe a little old) because God has been teaching me and preparing me all these years...for such a time as this.
Monday, October 20, 2014
Home-goings
Like so many of my church family and community members, I find myself reeling today from the sudden death of a dear lady. After several days of feeling like she was coming down with something, she received a shocking diagnosis of acute leukemia on Friday, was admitted to the hospital that very night, and passed away on Sunday.
How does that even happen?
The blessing for Pat is she didn't have to endure prolonged suffering. Though I am sure with every fiber in my being that she would've given anything for more time with her beloved husband and children, I'm equally sure that she is now experiencing joy in Glory that is beyond anything we can fathom.
I'm praying her family will find comfort in that knowledge as well, and that God's love and peace will cover them like a warm blanket in the days to come.
Meanwhile, I'm also praying for a childhood friend who has been at the bedside of her dying father for weeks. Today she blogged that nothing has been left undone or unsaid, and though this time with him has been treasured and sweet, the agony of watching his suffering and waiting for his release to that eternal joy in Glory has become nearly unbearable.
Two special people, loved by their families and so many others and especially by God. One is taken so quickly our heads are spinning, and the other, ready and eager now to be reunited with his precious wife in Heaven, suffers and waits.
I don't understand why in either case. As I have pondered it, however, God has reminded me of two things.
"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants." Psalm 116:15. They are HIS servants, HIS children, and I fully trust that he sees them and loves them through the transition from this life to the next, no matter how fast or slow that may be.
Second, I am reminded of God's words in Isaiah 55:9, "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." God knows what he is doing, whether or not I understand it. And I take great comfort in that. How could I worship a God small enough for me to wrap my brain around? That would put God on my level, and, well, I think you can get my point.
My faith tells me that God is sovereign, so I can trust that there is a divine purpose in all he does in life and death. My faith reminds me that God loves his children, so I can trust in his promise of salvation and eternal life. My faith upholds me, so in my weakness I can rest in the sufficiency of God's grace.
For all those who are hurting, who are questioning, who are waiting, who are struggling: may you choose faith in the sovereign God who loves you, rest in his grace, and be comforted by his peace.
How does that even happen?
The blessing for Pat is she didn't have to endure prolonged suffering. Though I am sure with every fiber in my being that she would've given anything for more time with her beloved husband and children, I'm equally sure that she is now experiencing joy in Glory that is beyond anything we can fathom.
I'm praying her family will find comfort in that knowledge as well, and that God's love and peace will cover them like a warm blanket in the days to come.
Meanwhile, I'm also praying for a childhood friend who has been at the bedside of her dying father for weeks. Today she blogged that nothing has been left undone or unsaid, and though this time with him has been treasured and sweet, the agony of watching his suffering and waiting for his release to that eternal joy in Glory has become nearly unbearable.
Two special people, loved by their families and so many others and especially by God. One is taken so quickly our heads are spinning, and the other, ready and eager now to be reunited with his precious wife in Heaven, suffers and waits.
I don't understand why in either case. As I have pondered it, however, God has reminded me of two things.
"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants." Psalm 116:15. They are HIS servants, HIS children, and I fully trust that he sees them and loves them through the transition from this life to the next, no matter how fast or slow that may be.
Second, I am reminded of God's words in Isaiah 55:9, "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." God knows what he is doing, whether or not I understand it. And I take great comfort in that. How could I worship a God small enough for me to wrap my brain around? That would put God on my level, and, well, I think you can get my point.
My faith tells me that God is sovereign, so I can trust that there is a divine purpose in all he does in life and death. My faith reminds me that God loves his children, so I can trust in his promise of salvation and eternal life. My faith upholds me, so in my weakness I can rest in the sufficiency of God's grace.
For all those who are hurting, who are questioning, who are waiting, who are struggling: may you choose faith in the sovereign God who loves you, rest in his grace, and be comforted by his peace.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Unmasking Halloween
Halloween has always been stressful to me. I'm not the most creative person when it comes to putting together a costume, so even as a kid, it always felt like so much pressure. I guess that's why I don't really have many fond memories of childhood Halloweens. Of course I recall the fun of trick-or-treating, I just can't really remember a single costume I wore. When my children came along, the pressure to create the perfect costume seemed even greater. Fortunately, they always looked cute and never really seemed to care whether or not they won any costume contests.
Before the Halloween that I, dressed as Pebbles from the Flintstones, met my future husband who was donning a cowboy get-up at the time, there is really only one that sticks out in my memory. I was a recent college graduate, working in a small town and living in my own apartment for the first time. It probably sounds silly, but I remember the excitement I felt as I was buying candy to hand out to the trick-or-treaters who would be coming to the door, MY door in MY place.
That night, I settled in front of the TV with a big bowl of candy by my side. I waited eagerly for the first knock at the door, so excited to see cute little kids in their costumes.
I waited. And I waited. And I waited some more. Not. One. Knock.
I was deflated, disappointed, and depressed. Since I had only arrived in town and started my job a few weeks before, I really didn't know anyone other than a few co-workers. I took a chance and called one, and as it turns out, she was having exactly the same kind of night. She was more than happy to accept my invitation to come over. We had the best time talking and laughing and enjoying a sugar buzz together!
With another Halloween approaching, I found myself thinking about that night. That Halloween doesn't stand out because of the costumes or the trick-or-treaters. It stands out because it was the first time that I felt like I had made a friend in my new community. We bonded over loneliness and laughter, commiseration and candy. We even went on to become roommates for a while. All these years later, time and distance between us, I'm still happy to be able to call her my friend.
Relationship. That's what it's all about. I made a friend that Halloween night because I summoned up the courage to reach out. We may not be in close touch like we used to be, but we've remained friends because I think we've both been able to summon the courage through the years to be real and transparent with one another during good times and bad. I know if I saw her tomorrow, we could pick up right where we left off.
I need to do better at being real and transparent in all my relationships. Halloween may be a night for costumes and masks, but every other day should be about taking them off, sharing our real selves, building real relationships, being real friends.
Before the Halloween that I, dressed as Pebbles from the Flintstones, met my future husband who was donning a cowboy get-up at the time, there is really only one that sticks out in my memory. I was a recent college graduate, working in a small town and living in my own apartment for the first time. It probably sounds silly, but I remember the excitement I felt as I was buying candy to hand out to the trick-or-treaters who would be coming to the door, MY door in MY place.
That night, I settled in front of the TV with a big bowl of candy by my side. I waited eagerly for the first knock at the door, so excited to see cute little kids in their costumes.
I waited. And I waited. And I waited some more. Not. One. Knock.
I was deflated, disappointed, and depressed. Since I had only arrived in town and started my job a few weeks before, I really didn't know anyone other than a few co-workers. I took a chance and called one, and as it turns out, she was having exactly the same kind of night. She was more than happy to accept my invitation to come over. We had the best time talking and laughing and enjoying a sugar buzz together!
With another Halloween approaching, I found myself thinking about that night. That Halloween doesn't stand out because of the costumes or the trick-or-treaters. It stands out because it was the first time that I felt like I had made a friend in my new community. We bonded over loneliness and laughter, commiseration and candy. We even went on to become roommates for a while. All these years later, time and distance between us, I'm still happy to be able to call her my friend.
Relationship. That's what it's all about. I made a friend that Halloween night because I summoned up the courage to reach out. We may not be in close touch like we used to be, but we've remained friends because I think we've both been able to summon the courage through the years to be real and transparent with one another during good times and bad. I know if I saw her tomorrow, we could pick up right where we left off.
I need to do better at being real and transparent in all my relationships. Halloween may be a night for costumes and masks, but every other day should be about taking them off, sharing our real selves, building real relationships, being real friends.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Minding the Head and Heart
I had to get my head examined today...again. I can just hear the jokes and wisecracks, thank you very much.
It was the annual brain MRI to keep an eye on things upstairs. I really do not like those things. Fortunately I don't get claustrophobic, as some people do. It's just really not comfortable lying on that hard table, and having to keep your head in one position without moving it for an hour. And then there's the dreaded IV, for the contrasting dye they have to inject at the halfway point. Definitely not an enjoyable way to start the day!
As I lay there grumbling in my mind about it, my thoughts drifted to a childhood friend. She has fought a lengthy and courageous battle with brain cancer, which now appears to be winning. Her doctors have exhausted every treatment and clinical trial available, and now she is at home, drifting in and out of consciousness, her heartbroken family gathered around to soak up every precious moment they have left with her.
While we continue to pray for healing this side of heaven for my sweet friend, it's entirely possible that she will, soon, be entering the arms of her Savior. There is deep sorrow in that, but deep joy, for her, as well.
Suddenly I began to feel a lot more comfortable in that cold, hard, magnetic imaging machine. My grumpy attitude turned to one of thankfulness for my own life and its many blessings. I am well, my MS is stable (I think), and even if it's not, hopefully the MRI will reveal to my doctor any concerns we may need to address. For all my friend has gone through, all I have heard for so long is how amazing her attitude has been, how she has kept her infectious smile and freely shared her faith throughout the whole ordeal.
So I started singing praise songs (to myself), and promptly settled into a place of peace.
Funny how I thought I was just getting my head examined. My heart got a check-up, too.
"You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you." Isaiah 26:3
It was the annual brain MRI to keep an eye on things upstairs. I really do not like those things. Fortunately I don't get claustrophobic, as some people do. It's just really not comfortable lying on that hard table, and having to keep your head in one position without moving it for an hour. And then there's the dreaded IV, for the contrasting dye they have to inject at the halfway point. Definitely not an enjoyable way to start the day!
As I lay there grumbling in my mind about it, my thoughts drifted to a childhood friend. She has fought a lengthy and courageous battle with brain cancer, which now appears to be winning. Her doctors have exhausted every treatment and clinical trial available, and now she is at home, drifting in and out of consciousness, her heartbroken family gathered around to soak up every precious moment they have left with her.
While we continue to pray for healing this side of heaven for my sweet friend, it's entirely possible that she will, soon, be entering the arms of her Savior. There is deep sorrow in that, but deep joy, for her, as well.
Suddenly I began to feel a lot more comfortable in that cold, hard, magnetic imaging machine. My grumpy attitude turned to one of thankfulness for my own life and its many blessings. I am well, my MS is stable (I think), and even if it's not, hopefully the MRI will reveal to my doctor any concerns we may need to address. For all my friend has gone through, all I have heard for so long is how amazing her attitude has been, how she has kept her infectious smile and freely shared her faith throughout the whole ordeal.
So I started singing praise songs (to myself), and promptly settled into a place of peace.
Funny how I thought I was just getting my head examined. My heart got a check-up, too.
"You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you." Isaiah 26:3
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