I write for several reasons.
I write to express myself, mostly.
I feel like I can truly say how I feel through my writing more than I
can through speaking- probably because of emotions. Emotions come out in my writing as real, raw,
truthful words- and often times emotions come out when I’m speaking as tears
rolling down my face, which usually leads to blubbering. So, many times, I choose to write. I also write so that I don’t forget. There are a lot of things in my life that I
think I’ll never forget and I truly do have a really good memory for the most
part, but as I’m getting older, I’m learning to write things down. There are details of things that I don’t want
to ever forget, and the way that I’ve found to keep these memories more alive
is to put them in writing, while the details are fresh on my mind.
So I write. I don’t
write for praise- I write to put God centerstage and give Him the praise that
He so rightly deserves. He is the main
character in everything that I write.
He’s the hero of all of my stories.
And before the details start to fade, I want to write about something so
big and so cool that only that Hero could have done it.
(Our Home)
It all started about three years ago, I guess. But let’s even back up a year before
that. Four years ago, Justin and I and
our three small kids moved to Symsonia.
We bought a house in a subdivision.
We could throw rocks and hit our neighbors houses, and neither of us
were used to that. We were both used to
living in the country with big yards and no super close neighbors. But Justin, especially, felt like this house
was where God wanted us. We had no idea
whether we would like living in a subdivision, but decided to give it a try.
A couple of nights after we moved in we received a visit and
a box of cookies for our neighbors.
These were the first neighbors we met.
I don’t remember much about it other than feeling a little embarrassed
that they were seeing our mess of half unpacked boxes and stuff laying around
everywhere as we were trying to find a place for everything- and I remember how
sweet and happy (and tiny) the woman was.
They also had three kids, like us, and I remember how adorable I thought
their kids were. So we met them, our
first neighbors. But moving in to the
neighborhood in November didn’t really allow much time to be outside and meet
anyone else.
Aretta, the tiny, cute first neighbor (that is totally
normal sized now that I know her, and isn’t nearly as tiny as my memories of
her from that first night are) and I became facebook friends. Let’s fast forward about a month. It snowed.
A lot. And sure enough I woke up
that morning and, well let’s just say, my “monthly friend” came for a visit and
I couldn’t find anything in my new still half unpacked house to accommodate
this unexpected visitor. This is the first
time that having close neighbors had seemed quite beneficial. Since then we have all exchanged eggs, and
ketchup, and sour cream, and milk, and toothpaste, and toilet paper, and even
birthday candles. I’ve even asked my
neighbor to fix my little girl’s hair from time to time because that is not my
expertise. But the first time that I
reached out for “help” from a neighbor was for feminine hygiene products. (If there are any men reading this, I
apologize). I messaged Aretta and asked
if there was any way I could borrow some tampons (Trust me, I know that’s
embarrassing, but I’m just keeping it real here). She told me that she didn’t have any, but
that Nathan (her husband), was about to take her best friend’s little boy home
and that she would have some and she would have Nathan pick them up for
me. So the first time that I ever
officially spoke to my neighbors husband was when he walked through the snow to
deliver me tampons. And the rest, as
they say, is history.
I had a neighbor and now I had a friend. Our children quickly became the best of
friends and as spring rolled in they began playing together daily. Our husbands became friends, too. And I smile as I remember the day I realized
that this “neighborhood” thing was actually a really neat thing. I started meeting more of our neighbors as
the days became warmer and made way for much more time outside playing and many
more walks and bike rides around the block.
The kids became friends with the other kids in the neighborhood, and
there were a TON of little boys Knox’s age.
At one point, there were five little five year old boys in our
subdivision. Our kids have been blessed
to never be without a friend, because they have each other, and they have all
the other kids in our neighborhood.
Throughout that first year our relationships with different neighbors
were established and began to grow.
Our first summer here we spent in a hotel (a different story
for a different day), but our second summer here, my sweet husband had an idea. He asked how I would feel about doing a
“neighborhood bible study.” He would
meet at a neighbors house with the men, and I would meet at our home with the
women, and we would provide childcare for all of the kids. Without hesitating, I agreed. I loved the idea. And couldn’t wait to get to know my neighbors
even more. So the last six weeks of the
summer in 2016, we had our very first neighborhood bible study. And God began to grow a passion in mine and
Justin’s hearts for our neighborhood.
The next summer, Justin said, “let’s do it again.” So
without hesitation, we did it again. He
taught the men, I taught the women, there were teenagers here to entertain the
kids- and that summer I taught through a book that literally changed my life
and the way I viewed God. (Side note: If
you’ve never read “None Like Him” by Jen Wilkin, do it- and then do it again,
because it’s that good.) My love for my
neighbors only grew that summer and I became so grateful to God that He placed
us here.
So now we are caught up to now- 2018. The summer neighborhood bible study has
pretty much just become an annual thing by now, so we had no doubts that we
were going to be doing it again. But
around the end of June, Justin reminded me that I needed to be deciding what
book I was going to use because we were going to start the study on July
19. I messaged some of my closest
neighborhood friends who had participated the last two years and asked them if
they had any ideas about what book would be good to do. No one really felt strongly about anything so
I haphazardly searched for things here and there for the next week or so. Then on July 8, Justin reminded me again that
I needed to make a decision because it was less than two weeks away. So that night I really started
searching. I read reviews on several
different books, but when I read the introduction of the book “Uninvited” by
Lysa TeurKeurst, I thought “wow, this is it.”
The book was written about living loved when you feel less than, left
out, and lonely…. What woman has never felt less than, left out, and
lonely? I texted Aretta, my first
neighbor friend, and asked her what she thought about doing the “uninvited”
bible study. She said it sounded great
to her… so I went with it. I went to bed
but I couldn’t go to sleep because I couldn’t get this whole theme of
“uninvited” out of my head. The message
of the book was so powerful and already had such a strong pull on my heart and
I wrestled with it and prayed for several hours that night as I tried to fall
asleep. By the time I woke up the next
morning, I knew in my heart what God was wanting me to do.
Justin asked me to go on a lunch date with him that day, so
I got up, messed around the house for a while and then got ready to meet him
for lunch. All the way there I practiced
how I was going to tell him what I felt like God had laid on my heart, because
for some reason I was afraid he might think it was either silly or maybe not
even worth it. We got to O’Charley’s,
were seated, and ordered our food. And
then I told him all of the things that I felt like God put so heavily on my
heart. I told him that I thought the
message behind this book was so powerful and something that I believed that
every woman in my life needed to read and hear.
I asked him how he felt about me opening this study up to more women
than just the ones that live in our neighborhood. I actually worded it as “how would you feel
about me maybe just creating a status on facebook and telling what bible study
I’m going to be doing and the dates, and just telling people that if they felt
led in any way to join us, that they were welcome- and to please contact me and
I would give them more details?”
His reply was, I kid you not, “yea, you can do that. I don’t feel like anyone is going to be
beating the door down to join you, but if you want to open it up, then that’ll
be good.”
So I did it. Sitting
there at my table in O’Charley’s, I made a facebook status that read, “I’ll be doing a Bible Study in my home on
July 19th that will take place every Thursday night for 6 weeks at
6:30. This is the 3rd summer
that I’ll have the blessing of getting to study God’s Word with women from my
neighborhood… this year we will be reading Lysa TerKeurst’s “Uninvited”
together and digging deep into what God has to teach us about the concepts of
feeling left out, lonely, or less than.
Justin will also be doing a Bible Study with the men at our neighbor’s
home. They will be studying Johnny
Hunt’s “The Leader I Want to Be.” We
would love for you to join us, if you feel led, even if you do not necessarily
live in our neighborhood… Childcare will be provided. Please contact me if you want to be
included.”
And just like that- that’s when the door started to get
“beaten down.” By 6:00 that very same
evening, I had received messages from 17 women that wanted to be a part of
this. By lunchtime the next day the
total was up to 21. There were twenty
three by the next day, then twenty five by the day after that. I was more excited about what God was doing
than I could explain, but I was also getting a tiny bit anxious about where I
was going to put everyone. How were
twenty-five women going to fit in my living room? Where on earth were they all going to
park? And how could I possibly tell
anyone that they couldn’t come to a bible study called “UNINVITED”? It didn’t matter if I had 200 people, I was
going to have to find a place to put them!
I texted Aretta, and her best friend Monique, who has, through Aretta,
also become one of my closest friends.
Monique isn’t exactly in our neighborhood. She lives on the road across from us, but
she’s been a vital, encouraging, significant part of each of the neighborhood
bible studies (and was also the woman that sent the feminine hygiene products
in the snow). So I texted Aretta and
Monique and asked where we were going to possibly stick everyone… Monique replied “think about when people gathered to hear Jesus. They didn’t care where they sat, they were
just hungry for His words. Not that
you’re Jesus, but you get it. It just
won’t matter.” And that’s honestly
when I realized, like she said, that it just didn’t matter. This was 100% God, and He was big enough to
take care of it. I remember crying
thinking about how each of these women were simply hungry for His words. I didn’t approach a single one of them and
ask them to come, but they came because they desired more of Him. And I saw God in a clearer light than I had
in a long time, and I desired to know Him on an even deeper level as I
recognized His finger prints all over this.
I literally couldn’t wait to see what He was going to do.
By July 18, the day before the study began, we were up to 33
women. That night, the Eve of our study,
was a special night that I don’t want to forget either. It was a Wednesday night, and I was actually
also leading a women’s bible study at church.
It was three days before my birthday, and my sweet husband brought a
cake to church that night for the women to enjoy together. They sang “happy birthday” to me and then
they all ate cake as I began our study.
After the lesson was over, I asked a friend to dismiss us in prayer, but
before she could begin praying, another friend interrupted and said, “actually
can we just all gather around Kendra and pray for her before she begins this
bible study in her home?” So, I got in
the middle, and all of the women of Rosebower Baptist Church gathered around me
and put their hands on me and they prayed.
They prayed that God would prepare the hearts of every woman that would
come into my home… for the hearts of every man that would be a part of Justin’s
study… for the teenagers that would be babysitting and for all the children
that would be playing in the yard. They
prayed for me- that God would take away my nerves and give me the words to say
that these hearts that were hungry for Him so desperately needed to hear. They prayed for my home- that people would
feel welcome and like they belong, and even that God would expand the walls so
that there would be room for however many people showed up. Tears streamed down my face. I was so aware of God’s presence. And also so thankful for Rosebower and the
women there that love me so much. Each
week, for six weeks, they brought snacks for me to feed the women in my
home. Some gave me money to go buy
drinks and snacks. They offered to come
help me pick up my house if I needed help getting things ready, and some even
actually did come and help me clean on some Thursdays that were hectic and
crazy and I just needed a couple of extra hands to help get everything
done. God used the women of Rosebower
Baptist Church mightily throughout this bible study, even though they were not
actually present in my living room each Thursday.
(The beautiful cake that my amazing friend Lisa made for our Bible Study)
Then came Thursday, the day of the first bible study and our
total was up to 35. My friend, Lisa, and
I cleaned my house and pulled together every seating option that we could come
up with to try to make sure there would be a spot for everyone that showed up. The clock slowly ticked away all day… up
until 6:30. And people started rolling
in… the first night twenty five women
sat in my living room and talked about what it meant to “live loved.” Please realize that these were not twenty
five friends that had grown up together.
Some women in this room were complete strangers. The first night there were two women that I
had personally never even met. But from
the first night, it felt like family. I
know that sounds cliché. But it’s
truth. Ask any of them. The presence of God was thick and He had
orchestrated something amazing. And my
favorite part was that He was allowing me to be a small part of it.
Thursday became my favorite day of the week. Life is busy and with summer vacations and
jobs and back to school obligations with kids, I knew that each woman would not
likely be there every Thursday night.
However, of the 35 women, five of them never missed one week. We discussed how our lives would look
different if we lived convinced, deep down that we are loved. We learned to deal with our rejections but
not to dwell on them. We talked about
how we had the choice to either bring our emptiness or God’s fullness into any
situation we faced- and that we had to be so full of God’s love that we aren’t
left grasping for the scraps of everyone else’s love. We aren’t set aside. We are set apart. And we learned the difference in this. We learned that resting in God’s promises
helps us to remember His presence. And
we dug into God’s Word and talked about the significance of the olive trees in
the garden of Gethsemane.
Each woman had a story.
And each woman, in their own way, was desperate for healing, for
purpose, and for more of Him.
One woman was in the middle of a possible job change. She showed up one Thursday night and before
we ever began our study she asked us to pray for her. She had to make a decision about her job and basically,
the decision needed to be made by 8:00.
Ironically, that’s also the time our bible study ends each night. So, we set the book aside for a few minutes
and cried out to God on behalf of this friend.
That He would give her answers and wisdom and strength. That He would make His will clear to her. Many women in the room barely even knew this
friend, but they cried out to God on her behalf, and cried real tears for her
as they prayed for God’s direction on her life.
We prayed and cried over toxic friendships and broken
relationships and hurts that even happen within the church. We learned to fight for people that had hurt
us deeply. Women told stories of battles
with infertility, divorce, and without a doubt the most heartbreaking situation
of actually losing and burying two children.
This is something that most of us have never experienced and can’t even
begin to wrap our hearts and minds around having to experience, but it’s real
life and something that one of our friends deals with daily.
One friend’s husband beat cancer once and now is having
biopsies done next week because scans have indicated that there’s a big chance
that the cancer has returned. We got to
pray over that and cry over that and plead with God over that.
One friend has entered the season of life when they are
having to physically start taking care of their parents more. This friend missed one week as she helped
prepare her mothers house to be auctioned and, even though, we laughed through
her funny stories about Mr Bing, her daddy’s dog that died back in 1948, there
is always pain when you have to clean out a lifetime of memories and begin a
new season.
Two different friends were dealing with the rejection that
comes from a husband who had committed adultery. Their hearts were both on a path of healing
that only God Himself could accomplish.
One was witnessing the amazing power of God as He answered prayers that
only He could answer and opened doors that only He could open. But the hurt was still there. You could see it in her eyes, even though the
majority of the women in the room never knew what she was dealing with inside
of her heart. The other woman was
actually walking through the dark days of divorce- divorce from the only man
she had ever been with- the man she started dating in high school, the father
of her children. She was learning a new
normal. She was learning to trust God in
a way that she had never had to trust Him before. And she was being reminded that God still had
a marvelous plan for her life.
Two friends had lost their fathers only months before and
you could still see their pain as the tears streamed down their face when they
spoke of it. Two women lost mothers years
ago, but their pain was still as fresh as it was then when they would speak of
that pain and how God brought them through that time.
We cried together about worrying about our children and
prayed together that God would protect them physically and protect their hearts
as they started a new school year. There
were friends that were dealing with and walking through seasons of trouble with
their parents and they prayed that God would change hearts. But ultimately we learned to pray above all
else, like Jesus prayed under those olive trees over two thousand years ago,
“Lord, not my will, but yours be done.”
There were two other preachers wives in our group besides
myself. One was in a different place
than she’s ever been, because the church that her husband pastored had to close
the doors. Her family was struggling
through trying to find a new church home.
The other pastor’s wife was someone that I had never even met before
this study, and she didn’t miss one week.
She expressed to us the loneliness that often comes with being a
pastor’s wife, and that she longed for a community of women that she could just
be real with. Her husband is actually
facebook friends with my husband, and the day that I made that facebook post
inviting people to join us, Justin shared it.
When Justin shared it, her husband saw it and told her that she should
come. She told him no. She thought it would be weird to show up at a
bible study at someone’s house that she had never even met. But two days later, her sister, whose son
plays baseball and basketball with my son, called her and asked her to go with
her to a bible study. And lo and behold,
it was the same one her husband had told her she should come to. Yall… if that’s not God…
We laughed. We
cried. A few times we even laughed until
we cried.
One night we were reading from 2 Samuel and a lady was being
a little bit distracting whispering to the women on each side of her. I tried to talk over her for a few minutes
and then realized that wasn’t working so I stopped and asked what was going
on. We laughed so hard together as that
friend shared that apparently she was missing like 150 pages out of her
Bible. They just weren’t there!! I made fun of her a little bit and told her
that either it was a new Bible, or she hadn’t been reading in the Old Testament
much!
We went through three boxes of tissues in six weeks, and we
learned that the Puffs plus lotion with the scent of Vicks are really good for clogged
up or runny noses, but can be really painful when you use them to wipe away
your tears.
We drank fermented lemonade one night because it had set out
on my kitchen counter for about three days without me remembering to put it
back into the refrigerator. It was so
bad that it burnt your throat going down, but one friend drank like four
glasses of it. She might have some wild
stories about the night that she got tipsy at bible study.
Let me tell you, the past six weeks went fast. Too fast.
As the women walked through my door last night for the last time,
carrying their bible study books and food, my heart felt sad that it was the
last night. We had a potluck, because
you know, what good Baptist Pastor’s wife wouldn’t suggest a potluck? We had enough dip and desserts in this place
to feed an army. My home was full of
laughter and food and my heart was full.
The kids and the teenagers had a pizza party on my back patio and the
men had a grill out at the neighbors.
And I think God was smiling…
I’ll never get over God being so gracious by allowing me to
see Him so clearly the past six weeks. I
truly mean that. I’m humbled- but even
more than that, I’m amazed at how good He is.
He has spoken to my heart so clearly about things I need to pay more
attention to in my own life and ways that I can serve Him better. He has begun healing some of the broken
places in my heart and He has let me watch as He’s started healing some of my
people. God did this. And I just got to be a tiny little part of
it.
This summer 26 women ended up joining me to study God’s
Word. 9 others bought the book and read
it with us but 26 women, at one time or another, were here in my home. 11 different men joined Justin and his study
at the neighbors house. 7 different
teenagers gave of their time to help babysit 33 different children so that
their moms or dads or moms and dads could learn more about the word of God.
26 women.
11 men.
7 teenagers.
33 children.
So, 77 different people’s lives were impacted this summer
over something that began in a neighborhood. He commands us to love our neighbor and I think
that means more than smiling and waving and sharing sugar and ketchup and toothpaste
and toilet paper. I think it’s more like
sharing laughter and tears and burdens and the hope of the gospel. It’s about community. It’s about eternity. It’s about intentionally investing in people
for the glory of God, because investing in people is literally the only thing
that we can do that will have an everlasting impact.
I can see it now. There’s
this little seventy year old woman named Kendra, her gray hair pulled back in a
bun. The laugh lines on her face have
turned to deep wrinkles and the years spent out in the sun has made her skin
look a little leathery. She’s sitting in her rocking chair on her front porch
with her daughter and her granddaughters, as they listen intently to her tell
of days gone by. One of those little
blonde haired girls crawls up in her lap, and she can’t help but think about
how much she looks just like her momma did at the age. She begins to rock in her chair and she
begins singing “God is so good. God is
so good… God is so good, He’s so good to me…” And her eyes well up with tears as she
remembers back to that summer that God did what only He could do by gathering a
group of women into a room and showed Himself to them so clearly. That summer that a group of acquaintances
became a group of friends that became bonded by the very best thing and the
only thing that will last for all of eternity- God. That summer that God healed her heart in a
way that she had longed for Him to heal it for years. And as she speaks through tear filled eyes
remembering the reality of His presence, she will speak with gratitude of the
Hero of the story and the amazing way she got to see His love swoop in and save
the day.
I write. I write so I
won’t forget.
(The Men)
(The Cars)
(The People)
(Thank YOU, sweet Lord, for these amazing women.)
