This may sound downright morbid but more often than not I wonder, “What if this is my last?”

When my youngest makes sure to hold my hand as tightly as possible while we walk through the aisles of a grocery store, I take notice of the softness, the smallness, and choke at the thought that this could be my last moment with her.

When I watch and listen to my oldest reading out loud in her pj’s, freshly showered, ready for bed, I take notice of the way she tucks a lock of blond hair behind her ear, the way she slightly tilts her head, and when I tell her how proud I am, she smiles from ear to ear and I pretty much come undone.

For I absolutely cannot process the idea of how this quiet night with her is all I get.

To hear her voice. To watch her beam.

We all know the classic saying, right? Tomorrow isn’t promised.

We all quote it like we know what we’re talking about.

However, let’s be honest.

While we toss profound passages and excerpts left and right about how life is a gift, our heads are way too buried in piles of stuff to even genuinely grasp the fact that we are a vapor!

In a way, it has all become cheap talk . . . . . . .

I want to share with you a dream I had about a month ago.

A nightmare of epic proportions that injected a good dose of awareness into my heart.

Even now, just thinking about it, it gets me all emotional.

I was in charge of some kind of event. Basically, running all over the place.

At a beautiful home by the water with a long dock that led straight to the lake.

My girls and many other children were swimming.

And I remember having this feeling to go check on them.

As I was walking, I noticed my oldest swimming towards the dock.

When I got closer, I saw my youngest floating face down, right beside her.

At that point, I started running and it seemed like my legs couldn’t carry me fast enough.

Questions like “How did this happen?!” and “How long has she been floating?!” were escaping my mouth as I frantically tried to pull my 4 year old out of the water.

My mind couldn’t wrap around what was before me.

She was wearing floaters!

What went wrong?! Where was my husband?! He said he was going to keep an eye!

A part of me was hoping she simply fell asleep but as I laid her lifeless body on the dock and saw her blue lips, a horrid pain struck my gut and oh how it hurt!

With my whole body shaking, I pumped her chest, I breathed air into that tiny, cold mouth of hers, all the while wailing “no God, no, no! Please don’t let this be!”

I kept pumping. I kept breathing in. I kept begging God to intervene!

I heard footsteps ricocheting off the dock. I heard shouting in the distance. I felt someone try to pull me away.

Then paramedics cut in.

A blur of people were asking questions, were trying to get my attention.

Yet all I wanted to hear was that my baby was breathing, that my baby was alive.

I wanted one of the paramedics to look at me and utter those precious words.

She is ALIVE!

But their heads dropped. One of them looked away.

And I completely lost it!

I literally roared! Like a lioness.

I released a turbulent roar, again and again, full of anguish and despair.

It had the ground shaking, had the people stand back and gape.

Then my eyes opened and for a moment I couldn’t understand where I was.

I was trying to catch my breath.

When it dawned on me that I was in my bed, I went to check on my little girl.

She was there. In sweet, deep sleep. Snuggled like a little cuddle bear.

So I knelt beside her, placed her silky little hand in mine and it felt like a second chance.

The feeling was indescribable.

All I could do was weep!

I mean . . . . what else was there to do?

Unfortunately, for many out there, a story like this is a real-life nightmare.

I read and I hear about the tragedies.

Mothers and fathers losing their precious angels.

From accidents. Disasters.

From cancer.

Abduction.

Or murder.

A reminder that we are not invincible, that we are not exempt from pain.

And it brings out the loud cry in me.

Because I fear losing my daughters.

I terribly ache for the parents who are suffering a loss right this very moment, who are roaring with anguish.

A part of me, in a weird way, can understand what that would feel like . . . . .

Even though I am well aware of just how instantly everything can change, I also quickly forget.

In the midst of packing lunches, looking for missing socks, and stepping on a pink lego, I forget.

I run my mouth like a fool or get upset about meaningless stuff and wound my children with my ugliness.

I think that’s the problem. Is that each and every one of us forgets.

Thing is, I want the truth of James 4:14 weaved into every fiber of my being.

I want nothing to do with cheap talk.

I really do want to live out each day with stark awareness of who I am.

Who my husband is. Who our daughters are.

A vapor!

Here for only a little while . . . .

And that nightmare shook me! I needed that shaking!

We all need it here and there.

It snaps us out of our foolishness, our arrogance, our self-reliance, our ingratitude.

Fuels us with a desire to not only pursue and love on those who matter to us but also on those who are facing battles we can’t even imagine.

I’m telling you, I’m telling myself, may the truth of James 4:14 keep us in check at all times.

Not too long ago, I was walking through the aisles of Whole Foods, carefully checking items off my grocery list.

Frustration bounced back and forth inside my head over how tight our budget was, over the reality that I didn’t have the luxury of getting whatever I laid my eyes on.

Yet, I reminded myself to give thanks.

As I placed a pack of organic eggs or Ezekiel bread into the cart, I gave thanks.

And surprises would pop up here and there.

10 mangoes for $5?! Score!

Gluten free waffles: 2 boxes for $4?! Thank you, Jesus!

Organic Coconut Milk. $2.99?! Yes!

My heart rejoiced at how God always managed to stretch the dollar.

When I walked out of the store with a full cart and began loading my trunk, a woman approached me.

She was holding a bag of bread, rice cakes, and a jar of peanut butter.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” her voice wobbled, “but do you have any spare change?“

Then she poured out her story as I continued loading.

A mom. Zero money for groceries. With a job that barely paid anything.

She is embarrassed to even be standing here, asking me for money.

She just doesn’t know what else to do. She doesn’t want to resort to stealing.

She’s desperate.

My first instinct was to say no. My mind was skeptical.

What if she was lying?

I almost rolled my eyes as I slid the last heavy pack of bottled water into the trunk and slammed it shut.

I had a little money left and was going to make one more stop.

But then I felt the tug.

You’ve been asking God to help you seize every opportunity to give to others. So give!

With that, I looked at her and told her that God loved her, that I understood fully well the feeling of desperation, that I have also had my share of moments in trying to figure out how to fill a fridge with food.

And I handed her the money.

I didn’t care if she was telling the truth or not.

It didn’t matter.

Because for all I knew, she could have been Jesus in disguise, I could have been entertaining an angel . . . . .

The point is, I’m not sharing this story with you to get some kind of pat on the back for giving what I had.

I’ve been talking a lot about how hard life can be at times, how there is so much suffering everywhere we look.

And this story is simply an example of the need that is out there and how God has commanded us to see it as ours and be ready to serve.

However, what does it mean to serve?

Where do we start?

And if some of us fall into that category where we are also trying to make ends meet, what does this “ready to serve” mean for us specifically?

When I started asking God last year to give me eyes that would see the need around me and to give me a passion that would do something about it, I decided to keep a list.

It was a list of things, ideas, little somethings that I wanted to do for others.

Whatever tugged at my heart about a certain someone during prayer or worship or even while waiting at a red light, I would write it down.

I didn’t have the resources to do any of it. It seemed like I could barely help myself.

Still, I continued, prayerfully, writing stuff down with the mindset that I would eventually get to cross all the items off.

Maybe someday?

Maybe when I had enough money?

But God had a better idea.

Start now!

Start with one!

Instead of feeling overwhelmed, unqualified, and limited over this long list, God was telling me that I could still do something.

He was telling me to start with one. To pick one need and pour into it.

That I had more than enough funds to do so.

That I didn’t need to wait for my circumstances to change in order to do this one thing for someone else.

My list became my reminder to serve others.

Because here is the truth.

We are all busy. We are all so focused on living our own lives.

There is laundry to do.

Dinner to cook.

Bills to pay.

Kids to raise.

A marriage to tend to.

A goal to accomplish.

A degree to earn.

And when we tell someone we will pray for them, we forget to actually do it.

We seriously forget!!!

So here is an idea on how to be ready to serve at all times . . . .

Open up a blank journal and start a list.

Start being a radar. Looking for ways on how you can serve.

Start being genuinely attentive when others are expressing their struggles and write down ideas on how to help:

1. Put a $20 gas card in Samantha’s mailbox. She’s a struggling student.

2. Take Megan out for a mani/pedi. She’s a stressed out mommy.

3. Order that book for Becky. She’s facing a hard season in her marriage.

Whatever pulls at your heart, JOT it down! Then take action.

Pick one and get it done.

Do this once a month, twice a month, or once a week – however much God asks of you.

Make it a priority to ask yourself on a monthly, bi-weekly, or weekly basis, “who can I serve today?”

As the list grows, as you check things off, intercede over those names and their battles!

Pray for them like you would want to be prayed for!

Open up that journal again, and again, and again.

Because once we write it down, once we become aware of the struggle someone is facing, we are automatically held accountable to do something, to reach out and lift up in some kind of way.

The list enables us to be intentional. It reminds us to take action.

So if you have been looking for ways to serve or you have had the tug here and there to do something for a friend, a neighbor, or that mom you always see at the park or you’ve been wanting to volunteer at a shelter center or mentor a child, BUT you keep being consumed with the day to day craziness of life, then maybe starting and keeping a list is the answer.

Start now. Start with one.

Love,

Z

I’m sitting here this morning, staring at a blank screen and knowing full well that what is on my heart is nothing new.

The words which have been occupying my mind for quite some time now consist of a message that most people have already read or heard.

Still . . . I feel a strong pull to dive into the topic.

Because we tend to forget the harsh reality and need to be reminded.

There is a vast variety of struggle everywhere we look.

There are needs upon needs that are waiting to be met.

And I’m wondering just how many of us – Christ followers – are doing our part.

We read in Galatians 6:2 that we must bear each others burdens.

We hear sermons and read books on how we must be the hands and feet of Jesus.

But what does any of that really mean?

After watching this video of Katie numerous times, I have been thinking a lot about what she said.

You are to love your neighbor as yourself and “myself” does NOT want to be starving!

So I don’t want other people in the world to be starving!”

It begs the question . . . . . .

Are we looking at the need around us as if it is our own?

What Katie did is beyond inspiring.

It’s actually incredibly convicting!

She went on a missions trip. Saw a need. And realized that turning her back on it was NOT an option.

And I want to live with that exact mindset!

Year 2012 was the toughest year my husband and I ever had financially.

At times it honestly felt like the walls were caving in on us.

We were seriously backed into a corner. Completely and fully dependent on God for everything.

The beautiful thing about it all is that we were exactly where He needed us to be.

In the midst of the battle, we fell head over heels in love with Him, we became hungry for His word, and . . . . we learned empathy.

We can all be sympathetic with someones struggles.

We can tell them to stay strong. We can give them a hug and pray for them.

Empathy, on the other hand, has deep, emotional understanding of the pain one is facing.

Empathy goes above and beyond.

It takes action.

It is constantly ready to serve.

And that became my prayer last year.

I started praying for a heart that would always be ready to serve. A heart that would see needs and do something about them.

For I know what it’s like to have no money for groceries.

I know what it’s like to have that ache in the pit of your stomach when the electricity is turned off.

So I told God, “I want to be a radar! I want to see that woman who has no money for gas. I want to see that family who can’t put food on the table.”

There is a lot of hurt out there. In all shapes and sizes.

And I am learning more and more that as I cover people in prayer, I should also try to see if there is anything else I can do.

Because helping out in practical ways is the definition of being God’s hands and feet.

Looking at a need as our own is the true meaning of bearing each others burdens.

The bottom line . . . .

We can all do something.

Yes. We can.

It can be a little, or a lot, or we know of someone who has the resources to contribute.

Every drop makes a difference.

And next week I will share a few ideas on what this something looks like, on being ready to serve at all times.

Love,

Z

Well, the month long series on words that fortify the soul has come to an end.

And I am having one of those days where it’s all just kind of falling flat in my heart, where I am pushing myself to believe any of it.

All of us are facing something.

We’ve all got prayer requests.

We’re all waiting on God.

And it’s the waiting that is the hardest. Especially when it feels like the roof is caving in.

I know that I serve a mighty God but I have moments where I question Him.

At times I sit there with my giant mug of boiling hot tea on my right side and His word, wide open, on my left side, and wonder  . . .

Have I not asked?

I stare at Luke 11:9.

“Ask and it shall be given to you,” I read out loud and the words stir me to tears and frustration pounds inside of me because I don’t get it.

I just don’t understand!

I have asked.

Specifically.

With relentless faith I have pressed in . . . . .

On New Year’s Eve of 2012, my best friend and I, with our husbands, huddled around a coffee table and cried out to God.

Everything that we were hoping for 2013, we laid it at His feet believing that He WILL answer.

As the clock struck midnight, we declared that the new year was going to be filled with provision, favor, wisdom and abundance.

We stood in agreement for each other because we knew there was power in that.

Two weeks ago she called me.

“My mom is gone.” she stammered.

Then she cried like I had never heard her cry before.

There are no words to describe how hard it was to process such news.

I couldn’t sleep that night.

I wedged myself into the corner of my living room couch and remembered her saying, “It’s going to be a good year.”

We had shared our dreams and goals on that couch.

She had sat there, eyes glimmering with anticipation and expectation.

And the memory of it all had me almost lose my mind.

“Did we not believe? Did we not stand together in agreement?”

It’s undeniable. Life can cut real deep at times.

And we can get very angry towards God when there is silence, when there is unanswered prayer, when the unexpected happens.

But what good will it do? What good will the anger bring?

The reality is that we are nothing without Him. We need Him far more than we need anything else.

One morning I jogged around the lake with my earphones on.

As I was telling myself to keep believing that God works all things for our good, a Phil Wickham tune flooded my ears about how he was standing at God’s door, “making all that noise.”

Suddenly, I couldn’t run anymore.

I stopped dead at my tracks and became a puddle of tears in the middle of a sidewalk.

There was anger. There was frustration. There was this sense of feeling forsaken. Feeling alone amidst the body of Christ.

More or less there was a lot of hurt. Just plain ol’ hurt.

And I’m sure many can attest to this mixture of emotions in their season of waiting.

However, when I happened to look up while wiping my face, I noticed something.

The high reaching pine trees. Beautifully contrasting against the clear, blue sky.

God’s fine art work. Stirring up wonder and awe.

All I could think was “You are good.”

“You are so mighty and good!”

That is another thing about life. It can also uplift in the most simplest ways.

Where long, exhausting days, with everything going wrong from every angle, quickly dissipate into oblivion when you wrap a warm towel around your toddler after bed-time bath.

You take notice of this marvelous glory smiling at you with chubby cheeks and royal blue eyes and you feel your heart mend bit by bit . . . . .

As I am pushing myself today to keep holding onto who God is, that He is good no matter what, I am also reminding myself to look into the lives of others.

A lot of people are hurting.

And even though prayer is powerful and yes, we must pray for the hurting, I feel that God is calling His people to do more.

Galatians 6:2 is a perfect example and has been on my mind since we rang in the new year.

What does it really mean to bear each others burdens?

It’s something I will be talking more about in the coming weeks . . . .

Love,

Z