"I Don't Believe In God."

"I don't believe in God." That was the result of our first spiritual conversation with Sasha when we brought her home in May of 2011. Here I was, the worship pastor of a Christian church, and I just adopted a teenager who doesn't even believe in God. Thanks God. No pressure. Well, at least she was honest.
It's been quite a journey- a quiet journey. What do I mean by quiet? I mean we really haven't said much. Keeping my mouth shut has been the hardest part. We've had countless deep, meaningful conversations with Sasha in the past year, but very few of them about God.
When Sasha told us she didn't believe in God, we responded by telling her that was fine. She was free to believe whatever she wanted. A deal was struck. We would sit through her gymnastics class for an hour each week to support her. In return, she would sit through a church service for an hour each week to support me. It also helped when we pointed out she could make friends at church. In closing the conversation, I challenged her to ask God to prove to her that he is real.  And that's pretty much where we left it.
A question here, a question there. Worship music. Could I download some songs to her iPod? Why yes, yes I can. Youth Group. Would I drive her to youth group? Why yes, yes I can. A deeper question here, a deeper question there. Over the spring there were questions such as, "How do you hear God's voice?" "How do you pray?" And then came summer and youth camp.
Now, a normal person might just simply ask God to reveal himself to them. But not Sasha. She had literally drawn a line in the sand and dared him to cross it. Her fists were up and she was ready for a fight. But she arrived home from camp to tell us that she heard God's voice for the first time. She was deeply moved and clearly shaken- in a good way. She also said she worshiped for the first time in the services because she now knows that God is real.
Last weekend we took her to a Night Of Worship at Christ For the Nations in Dallas. We weren't sure what her reaction would be. She clapped and sang along with the first couple of songs. Then the band started to play a song titled "Great I Am." Sasha leaned over and said, "Ooh, this is my favorite song." She closed her eyes, bowed her head, and lifted her hands in worship. And me? Well, I melted into a puddle of tears on the floor.
I'm glad I kept my mouth shut and let God do his thing in his time. 

You Know Me

I have many "favorite" verses in the Bible but this is definitely one of them.

The Lord replied to Moses, "I will indeed do what you have asked, for I look favorably on you, and I know you by name."- Exodus 33:17

It's where God says he knows Moses by name that really gets me. I love that. I love the thought of being on a first-name-basis with God.

Although I spend time with God each day, I did not have a nice size chunk of time carved out in my week to really process, listen to his voice, and journal my thoughts and feelings and what I felt he was saying to me. That's always an important thing to have, but it's especially important in this season of my life. My husband Dan is currently going through a major career change. He has taken a sabbatical from corporate America to seek God for direction for the next season of his life. Will we move? Will we stay? Will God have something new for me in this season as well? It's all very unsettling and can become overwhelming to me if I allow it. And so I carved out the needed space to decompress and process.

I didn't expect much out of the first night of carved space. I thought I'd be happy if I just had some quiet time to myself to think.  So there I was with my iPod, journal and pen. I listened to a favorite song and then turned my iPod off. I sat there in the quiet for a few moments and out of nowhere I heard him- such a sweet voice. "Kerri, I know you don't know where you're going. And I know you don't know what you'll be doing. But you do know me. You know me well enough to know that you can trust me." 

Well, that's enough for me. He knows my name. He even confirmed that I know him. I know him well enough to really trust him. I just needed that reassurance that I do know him and am capable of hearing his voice. I needed to be be reminded that he's walking this out with me.

The Bride

A couple of weeks ago I had the privilege of attending the wedding of a very special young bride named Jill. It was a bitter sweet experience for Dan and I. You see, Jill had once been the "girlfriend" of our son Alex. He was 12, she was 11. I'm not sure what it really means to be boyfriend and girlfriend when you're 11 and 12 years old but, whatever it means, that is what they were. Alex died in a tragic ski accident over Christmas break that year. Jill was his "girlfriend" at the time and it left her with a broken heart to say the least.
We've watched Jill grow into a beautiful young woman over the years. I knew she would grow up and get married one day, and yet, it caught me off guard. The wedding invitation arrived in the mail. I stood there holding it in a bit of shock and disbelief. When did she grow up? She's getting married? To someone else?
Alex died at 12, therefore, Alex is eternally 12 years old in our memory. It felt a bit like Jill was getting married at 12 years old- an odd feeling. And although I know it's highly unlikely that Alex would have ever married Jill even if he had lived, it was still a bit unsettling. It's unsettling because it just proves again that life goes on. Her life goes on and his does not. She got to walk down the aisle and into her future. He will never walk down the aisle and I will never share that joy with him. That's a hard pill for a mom to swallow.
I will say that once I was able to wrap my mind around the fact that Jill is not 12 and is not marrying Alex, I had a wonderful time celebrating her wedding day. Such a beautiful bride, Jill will be a wonderful wife and mother. I'm privileged to be even a small part of her life.