Friday, December 26, 2003
Non-war wounds
One of my customers came back from Iraq wounded. He was not hit by hostile fire, but rather was wounded as a result of a careless action of one of his own troops. Naturally, he is angry about that, partly because he doesn't have the privilege of of being wounded by the enemy, and partly because he will never recover from the burns or the rod near his spine that keeps him completely inflexible.
What I learned about him was that he was wounded before he ever left. He was abandoned by both parents; first one, then the other, before he was two years old. He grew up with a hole in his heart bigger than what could ever have been created by a rocket propelled grenade. The shrapnel of neglect, of apathy, of parental irresponsibility was continually being removed by his maternal grandparents as they tried to make up the difference. The difficulty was that the shots kept getting fired whenever kids would ask the normal questions they do; "Where does your dad work," and "Is your Mom home when you get home from school?"
His mother has been trying to participate in his life in the last few years. She even went to Germany to be with him while he was in intensive care, but it didn't count for anything with my young friend. He wanted to know where she was when he brought home his first A on his report card, hit his first home run, got into a fight because someone called his grandparents "old."
No amount of medical help cures this Non-War type of wound; only patient, unconditional, and unswerving love. That comes only from Jesus. Pray that my friend will turn around and seek His face.
Walk in Compassion,
Marti
One of my customers came back from Iraq wounded. He was not hit by hostile fire, but rather was wounded as a result of a careless action of one of his own troops. Naturally, he is angry about that, partly because he doesn't have the privilege of of being wounded by the enemy, and partly because he will never recover from the burns or the rod near his spine that keeps him completely inflexible.
What I learned about him was that he was wounded before he ever left. He was abandoned by both parents; first one, then the other, before he was two years old. He grew up with a hole in his heart bigger than what could ever have been created by a rocket propelled grenade. The shrapnel of neglect, of apathy, of parental irresponsibility was continually being removed by his maternal grandparents as they tried to make up the difference. The difficulty was that the shots kept getting fired whenever kids would ask the normal questions they do; "Where does your dad work," and "Is your Mom home when you get home from school?"
His mother has been trying to participate in his life in the last few years. She even went to Germany to be with him while he was in intensive care, but it didn't count for anything with my young friend. He wanted to know where she was when he brought home his first A on his report card, hit his first home run, got into a fight because someone called his grandparents "old."
No amount of medical help cures this Non-War type of wound; only patient, unconditional, and unswerving love. That comes only from Jesus. Pray that my friend will turn around and seek His face.
Walk in Compassion,
Marti
Tuesday, December 09, 2003
When God does something unexpected...
I just finished starting a brand new group of seekers here at Alexander Auto; studying "The Purpose Driven Life" by Rick Warren of Saddleback Church. Just me and four other women...
These women are remarkable.
I will not break their confidence, even though you cannot possibly know who they are. Suffice it to say that each has endured enough hardship and pain to last four lifetimes, and they are all so young. I pray that God will meet each of them where they are and help them to reframe their pain (past and present). I also pray that they will begin to care for and pray for each other.
I could scarcely believe how vulnerable they all were. They entered with such walls. I began by quickly sharing my own junk and how God has changed my life. From there they went down to level 77 of verbal intimacy and shared things that were amazingly personal.
God was there. Each woman made a commitment to 40 days of Purpose and agreed to partner with the others. I am honored to be part of what God is doing here.
Walk in Compassion...there are plenty of people out there hurting worse than me...
Love,
Marti
I just finished starting a brand new group of seekers here at Alexander Auto; studying "The Purpose Driven Life" by Rick Warren of Saddleback Church. Just me and four other women...
These women are remarkable.
I will not break their confidence, even though you cannot possibly know who they are. Suffice it to say that each has endured enough hardship and pain to last four lifetimes, and they are all so young. I pray that God will meet each of them where they are and help them to reframe their pain (past and present). I also pray that they will begin to care for and pray for each other.
I could scarcely believe how vulnerable they all were. They entered with such walls. I began by quickly sharing my own junk and how God has changed my life. From there they went down to level 77 of verbal intimacy and shared things that were amazingly personal.
God was there. Each woman made a commitment to 40 days of Purpose and agreed to partner with the others. I am honored to be part of what God is doing here.
Walk in Compassion...there are plenty of people out there hurting worse than me...
Love,
Marti
Monday, December 01, 2003
I LOVE YOU MIECES TO PIECES!
We have a lovely new home...great to look at, a joy to live in. When we built on this extraordinary piece of land, we apparently displaced a few field mice who have become quite brazen at taking back their territory.
I tried a few traps, but my visitors were a little experienced and were able to take the peanut butter bait without tripping the trap. I tried packets of mouse bait, but they kept me up all night gnawing on the packages. The last straw was waking up and stumbling to the kitchen, only to find evidence of sharing our friend's home made granola with our nocturnal visitors. The evidence? Needless to say it was both the leftovers and the already digested granola...ick.
I began to get really desperate as neither my son nor I wanted to eat at the table that day, even after disinfecting it. Of course, we put everything we had in Tupperware. In addition, I bought a different brand of mouse bait in a block form and set it on one side of the kitchen; two on one side of the table and one on another side.
When I woke up early in the morning, and as Dave Barry says, 'I am not making this up;'' I discovered that my tiny rodent friends had taken three of the four blocks and had apparently played soccer with them, using our trash compactor as a goal!
The list of their adventures goes on, but they have been very quiet recently and I am guessing that perhaps, just maybe, they have found our home just a little inhospitable.
I'd close with my usual "Walk in Compassion" except that today I am (drum roll please)
Marti, the mouse killer
We have a lovely new home...great to look at, a joy to live in. When we built on this extraordinary piece of land, we apparently displaced a few field mice who have become quite brazen at taking back their territory.
I tried a few traps, but my visitors were a little experienced and were able to take the peanut butter bait without tripping the trap. I tried packets of mouse bait, but they kept me up all night gnawing on the packages. The last straw was waking up and stumbling to the kitchen, only to find evidence of sharing our friend's home made granola with our nocturnal visitors. The evidence? Needless to say it was both the leftovers and the already digested granola...ick.
I began to get really desperate as neither my son nor I wanted to eat at the table that day, even after disinfecting it. Of course, we put everything we had in Tupperware. In addition, I bought a different brand of mouse bait in a block form and set it on one side of the kitchen; two on one side of the table and one on another side.
When I woke up early in the morning, and as Dave Barry says, 'I am not making this up;'' I discovered that my tiny rodent friends had taken three of the four blocks and had apparently played soccer with them, using our trash compactor as a goal!
The list of their adventures goes on, but they have been very quiet recently and I am guessing that perhaps, just maybe, they have found our home just a little inhospitable.
I'd close with my usual "Walk in Compassion" except that today I am (drum roll please)
Marti, the mouse killer
