“It sounds like God is preparing you for something really big,” the Pastor said.

I nodded and shivered.  That declaration felt both thrilling and ominous.  “Really big” so often means “Really different” to me…and you know what? Change is hard.

My palms began to sweat and I felt the flush of heat rise that is the harbinger of spirit truth.  It resonated in me, this wise man’s statement, and I wondered where I would next hear the voice of God.

I had been telling the pastor of my experience last month on More Mountain.  Speaking of how I had gone seeking to bask in the glory of God- to be undone by His presence.  Speaking of how I did not know what to expect on that return trip to the mountain, but had traveled there with such high expectations. Speaking of how difficult it was to get over the disappointment that God just wanted me to rest.  Of how my spirit wrestled and peace eluded me.

I told him about arriving, late and frustrated, and of feeling like a woman in a desert crawling toward water.  I told him of collapsing after dinner and sleeping for 13 hours straight with the thought that I would rest and begin my journey with God the next morning.  I told him of the first scripture passage we were given and how I cried myself to sleep when I read it because I knew that this experience would not bear up under the heavy weight of the expectations I carried.

“..the LORD appeared to him from far away. I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.” – Jeremiah 31:3

A song of love from our God, right?…But all I could see was:

“the Lord appeared to me from far away.”

I’m staying far away this weekend, God whispered.  Rest here.  

I didn’t want rest. I wanted God. Up close and personal and right there- in. my. face-not far away.

So I slept that night and awoke the next morning, still exhausted, for breakfast.  I ate quickly and headed out to hike the beautiful trails around us, looking for my ‘Absalom.’  I barely made it back to the room before I was too exhausted to walk further.  I lay down to nap until my allotted time with my spiritual director, Judy.

She could see I was exhausted.  She could sense God’s plan for me already, even though I was still fighting it.  Together we prayed for a word from the Lord.  I, expecting the requisite three scripture references for our practice of Lectio Divina throughout the day, savored the idea of the spiritual work that was to come.  Judy, my wise Yoda-esque mentor, listened intently for guidance from the Lord.

She asked me what I had heard from the Lord.  I thought I might fib and say, “nothing,” but I knew she knew better.

I sighed.  “Rest.”

“I keep seeing this picture of you crawling to water. God wants you to float in the water.”

“I know.”

“Is there a scripture that comes to mind?”

“Yes, 1 Kings 19”

Judy smiled quietly. “Do you know the story? Of Elijah and the broom tree?”

We opened the Bible and began to read what God was up to:

4 But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a broom tree.And he asked that he might die, saying, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.” 5 And he lay down and slept under a broom tree. And behold, an angel touched him and said to him, “Arise and eat.” 6 And he looked, and behold, there was at his head a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water. And he ate and drank and lay down again. 7 And the angel of the Lord came again a second time and touched him and said, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you.” 8 And he arose and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mount of God.- 1 Kings 19:4-8

Judy looked at me with tender eyes….I knew that look…the “this might hurt a little” look.

“I don’t have any scripture references for you this weekend.  No lectio divina, no work.  Just rest. God wants you to rest deeply.”

My eyes filled up and I dropped my head and looked away to hide the trembling chin of deep disappointment from this woman who had become my guide.

“Do you know that after his rest under the broom tree, Elijah went to Mt Horeb where he heard from God in the still small voice?  Did you know that God told him there were others to work alongside him? There is a great journey God is preparing you for, but you don’t have the strength yet. Trust that God does not need your active participation to be at work in your life. Now go, and rest.” Judy dismissed me with a sweet prayer for peace and an even sweeter hug…one that said, ‘I know this is hard, but you and God can do it.”

I knew the truth of her words.  I felt the same flush of spirit truth that I would feel just three weeks later while I related the story the pastor.  But still, I was sad. Sad that I would miss out on the beautiful weekend and the hiking trails and the caterpillars and the long, long talks with God.  My heart understood, but spirit still struggled against the truth of it.  My body, however, overtook all that and screamed out its exhaustion at me.

I did not even make it to my room for a nap. Instead, I lay down on the porch in a chaise lounge.  The sun was shining, but the breeze was chilly and I thought that the chill in the air would jar me awake.  As I snuggled down into the comfortable lounge, I sucked my arms up into my fleece jacket and closed my eyes.

Two hours later, I awoke.  Someone had laid a heavy fleece blanket over me and started a fire in the fire pit next to me.  The love and gentleness in that gesture flooded me with peace and I felt a piece of the resistance within me break away.  I was safe…and cherished…and watched over in this place.

I gathered my Bible and my journal and headed back towards my room– for more rest.

http://www.heqigallery.com/

“The early Christians referred to death as falling asleep. It was the point of complete surrender into the loving arms of a loving God. In this experience of his weakness Elijah encounters the Lord in a different way. I propose that this encounter reveals the heart of Christian prayer, a call to surrendered love. There, under the broom tree, he is fed a hearth cake and water, a Eucharistic symbol. “He got up, ate and drank; then strengthened by that food; he walked forty days and forty nights to the mountain of God, Horeb.” (1 Kings 19:8) There he is prepared to hear the voice of God as He passed by, not in a mighty wind, an earthquake, or a fire — but in a gentle whisper — the kind that can only be heard by one who has a surrendered ear to hear. Humble — not haughty.” – Keith Fournier, Learning to Live Under the Broom Tree

For most of my life, I have been immersed in the concepts of teamwork and providing encouragement and assistance for all of God’s children.  Enabling others to attain their goals and realize their worth is so much a part of me, I wouldn’t know how not to do it.  Helping others to appreciate their value and potential is an enormous joy and I relish it.  To be able to help someone rebuild their self esteem and enjoy life in a new way is a wondrous feeling.

But what happens when that “enablement” settles in just a little too well?  What happens when the person you tried to empower suddenly feels superior to you, when you are not good enough to be seen with them, when you helped them up and over your head, when your mentor status is reduced to forgotten status?

A truly strong person would look at those results and say, “I have succeeded.”  But those of use who have our own myriad of insecurities just wonder why we are underappreciated.  I suppose the truth of the matter is I just want to be valued, too.  And there is no amount of gratitude that seems to make that desire dissipate.

I must remind myself that my perception is tainted by my belief system which includes a little tiny piece that says I am not worthy to be loved and appreciated.  If I have played a small part in lifting another up, it is as it should be.  Much like a mama bird lovingly builds a nest, feeds her chicks with diligence, trains them to fly, and watches them fly away,. . . such as it is with those we touch in life.  There is bittersweet joy in the doing.  To expect anything less is to go against the grand design of our Heavenly Father.

Blessings,

Carlene Welch is the General Manager at Home Instead Senior Care of Northwest Arkansas, and avid writer and poet, and my mom. She serves as a Stephen’s Minister at her church and is one of the wisest women I know. She writes custom poetry and prose for cards and gifts. For more information, contact us at stringsattachedministries@gmail.com.

“I must of done something wrong, Mom, I’ll try to be better….to be better. Why did they take all my food away?” He cried and said he was sorry…that he would try harder. I did what moms do- I comforted, I quieted…I told him it would all be all right.

But when he finally slept- exhaustion and the after-effects of anesthesia taking over- I wept fear.

We were traveling home from Arkansas Children’s Hospital with news that crushed my little boy’s heart.  He had been so good….he had followed all their rules…eaten only chicken and rice for six weeks, but the little section the surgeon had snuck in and stolen from his insides and the pictures they’d taken while they were there told of story of an overactive immune system that was attacking any food.  They wanted to take it all away…stick a pipeline of goopy elemental formula straight into his stomach and fingers crossed pray that would reboot his system.

Xander at Arkansas Children’s Hospital in Oct 2008

I was outraged at the words the doctor used in front of my seven year old child.  Words like “it’s clear he just can’t control himself” and “I am positive he hasn’t been sticking to the diet we prescribed” and “you are killing him with his food.” Words full of fear and shame.  It split me open and awakened the hibernating bear-ess that was inside and I fired that man on the spot.  I walked away from the appointment not knowing the ramifications of what I had done…the black stain of the doctor’s fear weighing heavily on my heart.

As Xander slept heavily in the back seat, I prayed.  Dear God, heal my son…show me what to do now.  This doctor was our hope.  And then my prayer got really real…God, why is this happening to him? Don’t you love him? Don’t you love us?

I was deep in a wrestling match with God.  Tuned out to any words of comfort He might actually have for me…the angry woman beating the chest of an embrace with her fists. Quietly, from the back seat comes my answer -

“Yellow jeep, God loves me.”

The “yellow jeep game” began as a leadership devleopment exercise my partner, Tim (bulletproofteams.com) and I were using to help demonstrate the power of “noticing.” We would go into a group and ask how many yellow jeeps they had seen that morning.  Generally, the number was low for a the group- two or three.  We would release the group for the day with the charge to count yellow jeeps. The next day the numbers would often be in the teens.  We began to notice yellow jeeps everywhere.

At the time, I was at a place in my life where I needed to be consistently reminded of God’s love for me.  So I prayed for God to send me a tangible sign of His love at the times when I most needed it…the Yellow Jeep.  When I see one, I say out loud, “Yellow Jeep, God loves me!”

There are few other times in my life when I have needed to know God’s love for me than that moment.  I looked out the driver’s side window, expecting to see a single jeep passing by on the highway….instead there, at the roadside jeep dealership, was a long row of them.

With each one we passed, Xander said “Yellow Jeep, God loves me!” Twelve times he said it….and then he said, quietly and full of grace-

“And guess what, Mom? He loves you, too.”

What’s your yellow jeep?  Do you have a sign that reminds you that you are loved?  

She stands with head tilted, blue eyes glinting over her black rimmed glasses, complete with hearts and gold filigree and diamonds that scream her personality for all the world to hear.  She is stunning- this mini version of her father with her “Mom’s instincts.”  (It is, by the way, the greatest compliment I could ever receive that this child of wonder, full of love, would identify her personality as mine.) She munches Great Value BBQ chips in my ear as she reads over my shoulder a blog post written by another dreamer about a launching place.

“Is it a dream that God gives you or is it something that you ask God for?”

Her nine years feel like they have fast-forwarded thirty and I stop reading, struck by the question I echoed just three days earlier as my new friend and I made our way up US Hwy 71 toward a sacred meeting place for dreamers.  I’ve practiced this weekend the art of asking questions as an answer and so I do this now, seeking wisdom in the faith of a child.

“What do you think a God-sized dream is?”

“I think God makes us with dreams inside and with all the things we need to live them out.  What do you say always from the Bible? ‘God created a purpose for you before he created the Earth and created you for a purpose.’ Yeah…so I think he makes us like that.”

I smile.  Ephesians 2:10.  A verse that guides every dream conversation I have.  Never fear, moms, these “littles”, they do listen and take to heart.

“I think you are right on, sweetheart.  Do you have a God-sized dream?”

“Yes.  God gives me the same dream every night.  I’ve dreamt it more times than any other dream I’ve ever had.”

I start to correct her…that the ‘dreams’ we are speaking of aren’t exactly the same kind of dream that one has every night, but before I say anything, she opens her heart and spills out the dreams of a nine year old girl that wants to use her new-found gifts to change the world for Jesus.

“I am a primary dancer for a Christian dance company like Ballet Magnifcat. We are at this big auditorium filled with people and I am dancing with such grace and beauty.  The ballet ends and I am standing in the middle of the stage taking my final bow, someone hands me roses and I step forward and tell the story of Jesus and how he laid down his life for us and how we all need Him everyday. I invite those who don’t know Christ to come to the front and lots of people come to know Him. They come to know Him through my story. They come to know Him through my dance. I bring people to Christ with what God made me to do.  That’s my God-sized dream.”

I am undone by my tiny dancer.

I think back to a late night conversation by the fireplace in Nebraska with another dancer. One older and who has walked much further through life, but who holds onto the dream of dancing for God again.  And to the woman who wished she hadn’t waited 54 years to begin believing in her dream of writing for Jesus.  And to the man who wasn’t sure that he was dreaming his dream or God’s and needed help discerning the difference. I think back on these conversations and I wonder at God’s timing.  I am in awe of the way He has prepared me for this moment through my experience with His dreamers of all shapes and sizes this past weekend.

Gratitude spills over and floods the room.  Thank you, dream sisters and brothers, for sharing your hearts and stories with me, for giving me the opportunity to practice listening and encouraging others in their God-sized dreams.  Thank you, Adonai Ballet Academy for a safe place for my daughter to hone her craft so that she has the skills to live out her dream.  Thank you, Sally for preparing my heart to hear this dream come from hers.  Thank you, Ballet Magnificat for inspiring dancers to dance for God.  Thank you Holley Gerth, for giving me the language around which to speak these hearts aloud.  But mostly, Thank you my Sweet Dreamer for sharing your heart with me and reminding me that I am living my dream of helping others to see theirs right where I am.

Photo credit: Adonai Ballet Academy

After they had been in custody for some time, each of the two men—the cupbearer and the baker of the king of Egypt, who were being held in prison—had a dream the same night, and each dream had a meaning of its own.  

When Joseph came to them the next morning, he saw that they were dejected. So he asked Pharaoh’s officials who were in custody with him in his master’s house, “Why do you look so sad today?” “We both had dreams,” they answered, “but there is no one to interpret them.” 

Then Joseph said to them, “Do not interpretations belong to God? Tell me your dreams.”

- Genesis 40:4-8

There were a hundred of us gathered in a small chapel room at the Carol Joy Holling Conference Retreat Center in Ashland, Nebraska.  We came for different reasons and at different stages in our journey. Each of us fancied ourselves writers or artists of a sort, but all of us were dreamers…and that’s really what we came for…to learn about God-sized dreams and spend time fleshing out our own.

My sweet friend and heart sister, Holley Gerth, kicked off the weekend with a challenge- put your dream on paper…and then tell someone about it.  She asked us to lay down the sword of criticism and pick up the Sword of Truth, and turn to a heart sister we hadn’t met yet, pull up our ribs and show off our beautiful, captivating, Jesus-imprinted hearts.

The room erupted in the fervent sharing of each other’s dreams and smiles and encouragement floated in the air, divine appointments were met and I had the intense sensation that this weekend would be one of openness and vulnerability, of encouragement and deep thinking, and that somewhere in that room was a heart that would help me interpret my dream.

Dreams are funny things, you know? They have life and breath and emotions. They teach us about ourselves and our world and how we view it.  They make us yearn for something more and reach beyond our lives and experiences to a bigger understanding of the mystery that is this existence.  But, if not carefully interpreted and shared, they can invite doubt and fear and anxiety and comparison to set up camp in our lives and breed together to birth resentment and bitterness.

I know that the passage above from Genesis is addressing specifically prophetic dreams, but I think there is something more in it for the dreamers of the world.  

“Why do you look so sad today?” Asked Joseph.  “We both had dreams,” they answered, “but there is no one to interpret them.”

Don’t we feel that? When we have dreams and no one to help us make sense of them? No one to hold us accountable to them. No one to go along with us on the experience?

Tandem, by definition, is the arrangement of two or more persons, or objects, behind each other. So in essence, tandem skydiving is arrangement of two skydivers, the student and the instructor, where the instructor’s harness attaches them to each other. During a tandem jump the student sits in the front of the harness and both the student and the instructor share the instructor’s parachute.

Jumping Tandem Retreat was about not going it alone.  Was about having another heart hear and interpret your dream and about making the leap together using the same big God-sized parachute.  Our “skydiving” instructors this weekend shared with us their own God-sized dreams and how God was making them happen (most often in unexpected and sometimes uncomfortable ways), they shared with us their own fears and they shared with us how they learned to jump anyway, and then they helped us suit up to take the leap.  I have never experienced anything quite like it…and I can’t wait to go back next year and hear the stories that are being written on the hearts of those who attended this year.

Reblogged from Strings Attached Ministries:

• 

I am sharing a few of my journal entries from a three day silent directed retreat held by Christview Ministries at Little Portion Retreat Center in Eureka Springs, Arkansas April 13-15, 2012.  

4/15/12

Everything seems so sensual this morning.

I slept fitfully last night and finally about3:30 am prayed that God would help me sleep.  I dreamed of running through soft grass and swimming naked crystal clear hot springs with the water wrapping around my body.

Read more… 871 more words

Kahlil Gibran wrote, “Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.”   How much more eloquently could one express the first breaths of spring?  The pastel palette set on a deep green background, the sounds of birds on their way home, the baby rabbits hopping in and out of the shrubbery, and even a family of geese wandering down the sidewalk as if it were constructed for them—all favorite moments for me, tingling my senses with the newness of another year.

Spring has always been my favorite season.  It gives me an acute sense of wanderlust.  I crave the open road and the thought of new experiences.  I love the feeling that my world has once more come to life.  The fresh sunlight brightens my spirits while it brightens my surroundings.  The moderate temperatures and the sounds of children playing outside once more inspire me to move out of my winter “bear cave” and enjoy!

In that light, my husband and I have purchased a bright yellow Thunderbird convertible in which to cruise and savor our spring.  It has headlights like “McQueen” in “Cars”, and each time I see it, the nostalgia is overwhelming.  This year, my craving for the open road will be sated, even if in small doses—and the earth will feel my bare feet and the winds will play with my hair.  Hallelujah!

Blessings,

Carlene Welch is the General Manager at Home Instead Senior Care of Northwest Arkansas, and avid writer and poet, and my mom. She serves as a Stephen’s Minister at her church and is one of the wisest women I know. She writes custom poetry and prose for cards and gifts. For more information, contact us at stringsattachedministries@gmail.com.

“ The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!”  And the Lord said, “If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” – Luke 17:5-6

I’ve got to be honest, I have always looked at this passage and thought, “if you have faith (as small as) a mustard seed-” thinking of it as Christ’s admonishment on the size of our faith, as if our faith is not even the size of a tiny grain of mustard.

Today, an entirely different meaning jumped out at me- Faith LIKE a mustard seed.  The mustard seed has faith that it will grow into a mustard plant. It knew what it was…that it was a seed of mustard, not an apple, not a grain of wheat, but of mustard.

My friend said the other day, “the full revelation of the oak tree is within the acorn.”  The acorn doesn’t go around believing that isn’t an oak tree…or that it’s a broken oak tree….or that if it wil just find a way to get far enough in the meadow it can grow into a full grown oak tree….no, the full revelation of the oak tree is held within the acorn.

We are acorns.

We are mustard seeds.

We are fully adopted sons and daughters of the King of kings and heirs to the Kingdom of God.

The full revelation of who and what we are was sealed in our hearts the day we chose to seat Christ on the throne there.

But we live unsure of that reality…

We live worried that we will not be enough…

We live performing for the favors of our Father who cries out,

“Just know who you are!”

I think that was what Christ was saying

the size of our faith is not the issue…it’s the understanding of our identity.

We live not in a state of little faith, but in one of unbelief….about who and what we are.

We must learn to be an acorn that knows it’s an oak tree.

We must learn to be a mustard seed that knows it’s a mustard plant.

We must learn to be a child of God that knows that we have already inherited the Kingdom of God.

“All of creation awaits the revelation of the sons and daughters of God.”- Stan Tyra

Walking with a loved one in her final days is a sorrowful and daunting experience which brings up age-old questions of faith and fairness.  It tests our beliefs and wrings our spirits.  But in the end, there is always a signal of God’s presence and solace in our pain.  Today, the church bells were mine.

And Then the Bells Rang

Home, surrounded by my refuge,

I prayed for comfort for my dear one,

Grateful for knowing her

And saddened at her suffering,

Pondering what new dilemmas

Would be faced in coming days.

I questioned what possible good

Could come from this horrendous pain

And why such gracious people

Should have to relinquish every

Remnant of dignity and joy

In this final stretch of the journey.

And then the bells rang

At the church down the street

And the answer was clear.

Heavenly Father says, “Welcome Home.”

© Carlene Welch, 2012

Carlene Welch is the General Manager at Home Instead Senior Care of Northwest Arkansas, and avid writer and poet, and my mom. She serves as a Stephen’s Minister at her church and is one of the wisest women I know. She writes custom poetry and prose for cards and gifts. For more information, contact us at stringsattachedministries@gmail.com.

Many of you know that is often feast or famine….and this year is no different! I will have seasons with no engagements and then times when I am speaking somewhere new every week.  Now that I am teaching family caregivers of folks with Alzheimer’s and other dementias at Home Instead Senior Care, I find myself perpetually in the preparation cycle for the next presentation.  I am currently neck deep in one of those feast seasons and speaking nearly every weekend in March and April.  I still have dates available in summer and early fall! Go to the Contact us tab to request a date!

Planning for our big conference, Captivating Heart is underway and running smoothly! You should come this year! Last year’s event was a phenomenal experience and we can’t wait to do it again! Registration is open and space is limited, so register today and don’t miss out!
Go to www.captivatingheart.com for more details.

In preparation for Captivating Heart we a couple of events coming up to raise both awareness and funds, and can’t wait to tell you about them!

Princess Warrior Games- Sunday, May 19, 2013  2 pm – 5 pm

Don’t let the name throw you, this one is open to warriors of all types, but we specifically want to celebrate the Princess Warrior in all of us daughters of the King.

Strings Attached has partnered with Modern Mission Outdoor Laser Tag (think paintball without the pain!) for a Sunday afternoon full of embracing your inner warrior! Several missions will be run with an all-Princess game at 3pm.  This event is open to the entire family and I can’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon! You must purchase your tickets in advance for this event and space will fill up quickly! Get your tickets today!

2nd Annual Ladies’ Garden Party- Saturday, June 8, 2013  10 am -12 pm

We had so much fun last year, we’re doing it again!
So maybe taking out opposing forces on the battlefield isn’t your thing….perhaps you are more dresses and tiaras kind of gal. Or maybe you are like me and like to hold your pinky up when you drink tea one week and shoot at folks another….this event is for you.

Join us for morning tea in the garden with the ladies. ..crumpets, delicate tea cups, ummm….cupcakes….a silent auction full of lovely items and an opportunity to dress in your prettiest sundress and hat and enjoy the company of other ladies.  Tickets must be purchased in advance, so get yours today!

And much more…

We have a couple of other events in the planning stages…stay tuned for more information about those, but until then, get your tickets today for these great fundraising events!

Do you want to donate to the Captivating Heart Retreat, but can’t make one of our awesome fundraisers?  No worries…you can donate through paypal just by clicking here.  Every little bit helps to make Captivating Heart better!

I hoping to be back on schedule with consistent posts coming in the next couple of weeks….this month has been NUTS! (but no worries, I’ll keep ya updated along the way!)

Grace and Peace,