Bouquets of roses instead of ashes

She sits in a room, her heart on the floor, ears burn from the stories, her face drenched with tears, my soul aches my mind haunted with memories, our spirits bond, thou we speak different languages, our souls attach under a common knowledge of pain and fear. Hope and Love we speak here. We lead them to the well of living water, share stories of countless women who know their pain, and stories of a man who brought peace to their storm, hope to their future and love to their hearts. This is South Africa.

Four days spent listening to stories of abuse of the innocent. Generations lived in fear, the young forced to grow up too fast without parents, young girls raped, babies fall victim to AIDS, a village ruled by terror. After years of prayer, fasting and brave men in Christ standing up for what is right, the Friday night service is packed out with the young men and women of the village. Fear no more.

I recently returned from South Africa where a small team of three served local Pastor Martin in sharing the Good News of freedom in Christ. Three days Sister Sally and I held simple medical screening clinics and four nights we spend serving at the Crusade in breakout session with about 150 young girls and women of the community. The majority of these precious pearls were victims of rape, abuse, the trap of pleasing men and STD ’s. In our time with them Sister Sally shared the beauty of the body and Christ’s handy work in how unique and special he has made each and everyone of us. We had some basic education of abstinence and the disease process of STD ’s and how they spread. Before our meetings we spent time with the other leaders in prayer. It was in these times that the real battle was fought. We had no notes just the leading of the Holy Spirit, no agenda, just the mandate of Christ to love. Sally and I knew what we must share. It was so incredible to watch how the Spirit flowed. Sally would share her heart with these gals and then God would remind me of a story of a woman in the Bible that had deep pain and lived in fear, and how HE came into her life and brought peace. Each night built upon the other until Saturday night came, Jesus brought beauty from ashes. He took my pain and used it to offer hope to others. I was able to share from my own hurt and fear and show them the road I am on with Christ that leads to freedom and peace, covered with hope and Christ’s love. That was our theme, Hope and Love.
One night as Sally and I were preparing to speak, we asked the question, “what hope do we have to offer?” as we looked out into the darkness of the night and heard the local bar music, the sound of trouble brewing in the shadows and despair all around us. It was an honest question, “where is the hope in all this for these girls?” Dealing with my own pain, Satan was so eager to bring up moments before we were to speak, Christ reminded us both, He IS the Hope we bring. Our only “job” was to be willing to be used by HIM, and he would take care of the rest. If I were to cower in my own insecurities, what would we gain? Even as I write this, not knowing all who will read it, I admit I have reservations and I am skating around my own story. Isn’t it interesting what fear and shame can do to us?
There is a story I shared with my supporters just before I left and I would like to share it with you all. (Sorry if it’s redundant for some of you, yeah I’m gona copy and paste here)
In Matthew 9, Mark 5 and Luke 8, is the story of a woman who was so desperate for a miracle that she would do anything, absolutely anything to cause God to move! She had heard of this Jesus and had seen him all over town healing people and doing extraordinary miracles, and this woman knew she had to see him, she had to touch him. She had been to all the best doctors and spent all she had looking for a cure and had suffered a great deal the story tells us.
Ya see, back in those days when a woman was bleeding she was not to be in public, it was like a gross dirty thing and shame was associated with it. But this lady had been bleeding for twelve years (Matt 9:20) Twelve years, could you imagine? Talk about PMS! So anyway, Jesus and his peeps were walking to this high official dude's house to heal a little girl who was really sick, and there were like a hundred people surrounding Jesus and bumping up into him, and this lady knew this was her chance to get close to Jesus. She had this passion inside of her, this faith deep down that said “If I could only touch Him, even just the edge of his garment, I will be healed.” She was like one of these women on Friday after Thanksgiving early morning sale shoppers, ya know the one’s with the crazy look in their eyes as they are going after the last designer hand bag that’s 70% off, crazy, not gona let anyone stop her or get in her way, you know who I’m talking about. She pushed her way thru the crowd, crawls on the ground and stretched out her hand with all her might and with the tip of her fingers caught the hem of Jesus’ cloak. And BAM! Her bleeding stops and she felt in her body that she was free from her suffering (Mark 5:29) it was like the world froze, for the first time in twelve years she was healthy and whole! Just as this lady touched Jesus, he stops right there, “Who touched me?” Peter was like, ‘Jesus, do you see all these people? We all touchin each other. Come let’s keep going.” But no, Jesus kept looking around and asked again, “Who touched me? I felt power leave me someone touched me." The woman realized what happened and she buried her head and threw herself at his feet in fear and told him the whole story. Jesus, with this tender grin on his face reached down picked her up and said’ “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be free from you suffering.”
(You can read the whole thing in Matthew 9:18-26, Mark 5:21-43 or in Luke 8:40 -56)

I asked the question, How far are we willing to go to touch Jesus. When I wrote that letter, I had no idea what Jesus would ask of me in SA. That Saturday night as Sally and I were praying and honestly searching for Jesus in this dark place, He asked me, How far are you willing to go for me? I wept before his feet, broken and scared. There was a room full of girls who have been through hell, and here I am afraid to tell them what God has done in my life. It’s a hard thing to stand before strangers and bare your soul. It’s a hard thing to write about too.
Thursday afternoon I sat in a room with a 17 year old girl (to protect her, we’ll call her Jane) who in one year was raped by 11 different men after her father died. She lost the protection of her father and some bad men took advantage of her… 11 times in one year! As a result of the last rape in November of 2008 she became pregnant, and by a miracle has tested negative for HIV. Jane’s mother was against abortion, so for 9 months, Jane at 15 years old carried a physical reminder of her pain and fear. Today as she looks at her 14month old baby, she says to me, “I can’t stand to look at her.” This innocent baby is a source of her pain. What on earth could I possibly say to comfort Jane? A 15 year old “Stacie” (for her protection) sits haunted by memories of abuse from her father. A few years ago her parents split up and only months later Stacie’s father begins to molest her, knife point at times and in front of her little sister. She makes countless pleas to her mother to return, but doesn’t speak of this pain until her mother returns and the neighbors express their concerns about what has been going on in her absence. Just this past June, her father ending the night with the guys grabs a knife and crawls in bed with Stacie threading her with her life not to make a noise, her mother just in the other room is awakened and walks in to see that the commotion is caused by her husband in bed with her daughter. The mother grabs the “alert whistle” and called the neighbors to come and help. Stacie finds a defender in her mother. Her father sits in jail awaiting trial.
The next angel we speak with is a frightened little 9 year old, her eyes as big as the moon, her face frozen in fear her body stiff with terror, as we listen to her story, she is discovered to be Stacie’s little sister. Little “Marie” is troubled by the images of her father harming her sister; she is petrified with the thought that he will return and do the same to her. Marie needs a defender. What words do I have to comfort Stacie and her little sister? Countless stories of young girls forced to become slaves to sex and live in a constant fear of men. Innumerable accounts of children raising children as their parents are killed by AIDS. Babies left to fend for themselves, all at this one school we visited. The teachers in this school are my heroes! The care and concern they have for these little ones is overwhelming. The principal has a heart bigger then the sun, and shares with us her concern for the kiddies. How could I console someone with such pain?
Psalm 68:5 “A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.” Is what God impressed on my heart. He said, “Share how I protect you. Tell of my watchful eye in your life and express my love for them.”
I told them how I was betrayed by those I thought I could trust, how man used and abused me and that I could understand their pain and I knew what fear was. I told them how I questioned God and how he showed me great love. How his heart broke when we were being hurt, and how he came to our defense. Remember Jane, at the end of our time together, she smiled, and for the first time reports her teacher, she called her daughter by name, she said, “I’m going to go home now and hold my baby." Jane received a touch from Jesus that brought healing, her teacher received a renewed hope and both are committed to Jane’s healing and the raising of her daughter. Stacie and her sister are set on a long road to recovery and all our sisters who were at those meetings have been given a fresh start on a journey to wholeness. In December, LORD willing, we will return to SA and check in with these gals and continue our talks and our prayer is to start similar meetings with the young men in teaching them to be Men who protect and not boys that wound.

When we come to Jesus with a broken heart and a willing spirit, when we are willing to do whatever it takes to touch the hem of His garment, no matter how uncomfortable it may be, something beautiful happens. He “…in all things works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28
Isaiah 61:1-4 “…to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.” I believe this is God’s desire of all of us who have been hurt by the selfish desire of a man. He longs to restore us to wholeness, to give “bouquets of roses instead of ashes” as The Message words this verse. So many of us have been hurt and betrayed and the overwhelming sense of shame has kept us captive too long. I am here to tell you dear sisters; fear no more! Let not shame hold you from joy, instead stand firm in the embrace of Christ. Every tear that boy made you cry, Jesus cried with you. This may sound cheesy to you, but I tell you the truth when I say Jesus knows your pain. For a long time and even now when I am weak I question him. “God, Where were you when…?” I know you have asked that yourself, I will not sit here and pretend to have the answers. I don’t know why some of us have to face such disgrace and be trapped by fear. But what I can say with all honesty, God was there and his heart was shattered when we were violated.
I saw a painting of Jesus holding a girl in his lap. She was depicted in a way to suggest she was just raped and thrown out with the trash, and as Jesus sat there with his arms around her, the pain on his face made me cry, you could see in the girls face such hurt and her little hands wrapped around his arms, so tender. When I am having a rough day and the memories begin to creep in, when I cry out to God and close my eye’s that is the picture I see, His arms around me, holding me tight and safe. I pray that when the pain of your past comes in, that is the image of Christ you see, the great protector holding you safe.


That is my heart dear sisters. Thou pain and fear try to stop me the enemy may come full force, I will not tremble, I will not cower, for I have found my voice and shout aloud, “No more! For my Awesome God has delivered me and given me Life, I will Praise his Majesty and stand firm in Faith and be Powerful in Christ!”

Taking hope to Haiti; Part Two

The search for survivors
Part Two…Our first week in PAP held full days of mobile clinics. We would pile in the back of a flat bed truck drive for a while, sit in traffic for a bit, come to a part of town where people were waiting for… well just waiting for anyone to come and help. Along the road we would see signs that read. “We Need Help” “Water Help no food” there would be kids on the side of the road with palms up and such a distressed look in their eye’s asking for water, food or anything we would give them. As we drove around the city it was hard to keep focused as we passed piles of rubble where building once stood. Down town where all the government buildings were, it was like a western ghost town. The eerie silence, papers blowing across the street, and the smell, oh it was like a rotten dump and death with a hint of smog… if I didn’t know any better I would say it looked like a war zone.

We would head to parts of town where the people had not had medical treatment. We would set up in a fairly clear area, use bricks and wood for a bench or tables and set up a “check in” point. Get vitals if necessary and a chief complaint to Triage if you will. Then 3 or 4 stations armed with a doctor nurse and medic and a translator if available, we would start seeing patients. We had a table of supplies and medicine, mostly just used the bandages. There was one day we visited an orphanage, (“the Broken house” we called it because it was / is broken.) our non medical team members stayed with the kids and the rest of us went just down the street to a school and set up a clinic, outside of cores, part of the school had collapsed and from what we heard there were some deaths there. It was such a surreal moment, knowing were we stood, not two weeks prior children ran and played and were just being kids, their whole life changed, and now in that same spot, we were bring a hope and what healing we could. I was reminded once again how precious life truly is… that was a recurring theme in Haiti. That day I was teamed up with Kerry and Michael. I learned so much from them over that week and had the blessing of getting to know Kerry as she returned to Haiti later in February… but that’s another story.

We saw, oh about 60+ patients as a group; mostly wounds’ that needed cleaned and dressed, and some broken bones. Those were the easy cases, and then we would see stomach pain and headaches and other internal medicine complaints. Let me remind you we are set up out side on old pieces of wood and bricks with some Band-Aids and Tylenol. We had a stethoscope, a blood pressure cuff, and thermometer… that was it! We would listen to their problem, hear their story of what happened thru broken English and poor Cerole, cry with them, some times laugh and we would pray and give one of the best band-aids I know of. A hug. (I do have to tell you that at the close of that day we sat and played with the kids that had gathered there. It was such a blast playing hand claping games and teaching each other different words. We would laugh and dance a little. So refreshing…)

At he end of the day we would dive down the long drive way to New Life Children’s home it was like entering a different world. We would come thru the gates and you would see the Mango tree and green grass and kids playing. Such a place of respite. We’d go to our tents, “clean up” and meet for dinner, true camping style, under the friendly mango tree and share stories and MRE’s. Then it was off to bed, ready to do it again in the morning.

The night sounds of Haiti included but was not limited to, Roosters, airplanes (we were one field and a wall away from the runway) dogs and goats and the mating call of the gecko and the giggling of our tent… we had some story times of our own, right girls

One day I was asked to go with Joulio our team mate and local Haitian to his side of town to take care of a few people he knew. “They’ll just need some dressing changed Sarah, that’s all.”… Ok, no problem.” famous last words right. Well during the cores of preparing for this little field trip Miss Rachel (tent mate and supper hero nurse) offers to come along and lend a hand, ‘Ya know, just incase.” She says. … Oh was this an adventure!We pack a bag full of wound care supplies some Tylenol and pad of paper. Climb in the car with Bryan; videographer, Steve; prayer warrior, Joulio “the Man with a plan” and his brother, Off we go. We drive for a while, stop for an oil change, drive a little longer and turn down some random side road where we run over a mans foot, get out and Rachel and I “treat ‘em and street ‘em” if you will, hop back in the car and dive a few more yards to out destination where there are no patients. Humm we think. While there is some conspiring going on in Cerole for a plan D at this point, we walk over to this little 10x10 hole in the wall room with no windows no electricity and a small door way, there is a table and we find two chairs. “Here you go gals.” Joulio says with a big smile. “We’ll just set up shop here.” As we look around and see the crowd form outside, Rachel and I look at each other, take a breath and say, “bring it on.” Steve and Bryan attempt crowd control Joulio finds us some translators and about 50 patients, 1 transport, 1 nurse, 1 EMT and 5 hours later, we call it a day when we run out of bandages. (Little side note, I swear that bag had the blessing of the 5 loafs and 2 fish… ) Just about an hour into our “grand opening” the rest of our team stops by, “just to say hi”. Their timing was perfect. A man in his 40’s was brought in with a head and left leg injury and quite sick. The team became a big ambulance. Some of the doctors jumped in and saw a few patients while details were worked out, and from what I hear there was quite a party going on out side. Bree and some of the others were entertaining the kids while we took care of the inured. We mostly saw foot and leg injuries, and oddly noticed all on the left side of the body. We had some sick kiddos and there was a lot of prayer going on in there as well. As we were winding down, a man came in asking for some medicine and advice as to what to do for his kids who were too sick to travel to the clinic. He told us the symptoms and his family’s story of survival and with a broken heart almost begged for help for his kids. I ran thru the inventory in our little bag in my head searching for anything that would help, there was nothing that would even remotely help this mans’ family. We all gathered together and prayed. Steve and I during our prayer both thought of the centurion man who came to Jesus asking him to heal his servant. The soldier said, just say the word Master, and I know it will be done. I told this Man that I had nothing to give his children, but what I do have I give in the mane of Jesus. So we encouraged this father, blessed him and left there believing that his children were healed. I don’t know the end of that story, but I do, with all that I am believe that Jesus met that man at his home and his children made well.

Day after day we would come back to base camp beat, tired, torn and full from the day. Hearing the different stories and personal encourters from the team was the momentum I think we all needed to know that we were making a difference in the lives of those around us… and we later discovered that the greatest change was inside us.

Part 3 coming soon

Saying Good Bye... for now

Taking Hope and healing to the hurting people of Haiti –by Sarah Wimmer
A series of stories of 5 weeks spent in a broken nation, where hugs were bandaids, hands became hope and a song bonded souls. It’s not just the kids that were mending. Listen how God touched the lives of those who went and forever were changed. This is my story of Hope in Haiti.

The day the earth shook
January 12, 2010 a 7.0m earthquake rocked the nation of Haiti. The epicenter was near Leogane, about 15miles southwest of Haiti’s capital city Port Au Prince. Carrfour, Petit Goave, Grand Goave and Gressier all experienced violent shaking, severe structural damage and mass loss of life. None of the images coming from the TV could have prepared me for the shaking I was about to experience.
Thousands feared dead one report said, while that number grew by the hour CNN headlines were muffled by the crying in my heart for the lost souls of Haiti.
I was in room 58 stocking draws with supplies when I heard the news, I caught the eye of a Haitian co-worker as she swallowed the information via text message and thought to myself, “Oh God please! Save them!” I spent the next two days broken in tears and searching for a way to Haiti. Gota love facebook. I sent a message to a few friends who are, “in the know” and by Thursday night I had information about a few groups. I prayed, “God who ever will take me there, just get me there.” A good friend Jan sent this posting from TDA Africa; “TDA is presently mobilizing URGENT support for earthquake victims in Haiti- together we can make a difference!”
Friday morning the 15th I sent an email to put my name in the hat as it were with TDA and by that afternoon Melissa gave me a ring. I told her I was available to help however I can. She asked how fast I could come up with 3k. “Let me make a few calls” I replied. (Knowing all I need do is call “the Big Man”) “Great, we leave in a week.” she said.
Friday evening I got the word out and the world around me responded with open hearts. By Sunday afternoon I had reached my goal and by Wednesday evening God had just about doubled my funds. Got the time off from work with only a little bit of flak but had some awesome boss’ who know me well, go to bat for my cause to “Heal Haiti”.
January 22 the eve of my 30th birthday three beautiful children and their Mama send me out with the most precious prayer and faith. I have to tell ya, that was by far the sweetest “commission” prayers I have ever heard!
I get to LA, realize I forgot my debit card but do have my passport and underwear, somehow I get to the hotel and check in for a few hours before meeting the team at LAX in the morning. 530AM is always too early, I meet my new friends at LAX, hull I don’t know how many pounds of supplies and the airline checks it all for free! It’s off to West Palm Beach Florida. All bags accounted for, a two hour drive to the hotel, in bed by 2am up by 5am (again I say, TOO EARLY) to meet at MFI (Missionary Flight International) to catch a jet to Haiti. Yes I said Jet. Thank you Mr. Joe Gibbs for lending your jet and crew and flying us and many others to Help Haiti and thank you MFI for getting us there.
January 24 2010 12 days post quake and 52 aftershocks later we arrive in Port Au Prince.
Sitting outside waiting for our contact to pick us up we learn that there is a hospital just across the field. Our medical team sets down our bags and takes a walk to see. We round the corner and see large white tents, people running around and patients everywhere. We meet the DON and offer our assistance. “We’ve got our pediatric unit over there, ICU here and adult ward here. There are the gloves and supply table. Here’s some tape, make a name badge for yourself. We’ve got nurses working 32hr strait and their exhausted, how long can you stay?”
I don’t think I will ever forget that first look at Haiti. Cots on the floor rags for bandages’ broken bones not yet set, the look of pain in their eyes. Everyone there was after the same goal, Help. Just help them. It was the true definition of controlled chaos in action. The University of Miami; Project Medishare in the first stages of relief set up tent hospitals complete with surgery. Now I can’t vouch for the sterile environment, but as we soon learned, “this is Haiti, ya do what you can” and Project Medishare was doing just that, saving lives.
Not in country 5 hours and we were elbow deep in patients. I head to the Ped’s ward and help with a little one only a few days old and we learned only a few days maybe only hours left to live. The baby was just too sick and we did not have any of the resources to do anything about it. A few beds over was a young teenager screaming because she thought there were maggots in her wound, there wasn’t, but comfort was still needed. Just across the row of cots was another young child with no legs and a mother holding her face looking in disbelief. Their eyes all told the same story, “oh my God, what just happened?”
“Our ride has arrived, you’ve got 5minutes” David a videographer from Cali said, our hears sank, we had to leave. We gather outside and walk back across the field, “you ok?” we ask each other. With a deep sigh: “yeah… yeah. I’m good” was the only response you heard. It was quite for a few moments as we gathered our bags and loaded the van. Not sure what we just saw, not sure what we were going to see next, but we all knew that we were in the right place at the right time and I think the whole team knew at that point, we had a lot of work to do.
It’s evening now. We drive just around the corner to what would become my home for a few weeks. At first glance it looked like the city had been bombed. Down an ally we head for the New Life Children’s Home campus to meet the rest of the team setting up our tents and sorting supplies. That night we slept… well, lightly rested in our tents wondering what tomorrow would hold……….

Part two coming soon
The search for survivors

Face your Fear

Fear is only an opportunity to grow ones faith… that is if you chose to challenge it.
So there I was, 11years old, hands griping on for dear life to the side of a rock, scared to even look over the edge of a 20ft cliff. I couldn’t breath, I remember Mama standing below and Mr. King walking about as if it were no big deal, “it’s not the high, you’ll be fine. Just climb back down.”
15years old and not even two feet out of the elevator atop The World Trade Center looking at the huge window over NYC, calling for Daddy to come rescue me. I could feel the building dancing in the wind. I don’t think I took even one breath the whole ride back down. The elevator door opened and I ran for a pillar three times my size and wrapped myself around it swearing I would NEVER go that high in the air again!
In my early 20’s I visited the Grand Canyon with my sister, we looked over the edge. I stood there looking at the miles below us, how beautiful are Gods creations!
A few years later I found myself climbing up 20ft ladders, standing on roofs to get a job done. I would stretch with one foot in the highest rung to get the paint in the corner, holding my breath of cores. Sure I was a little tense, but I did it.
Age 29, I hop on a plane with a man by the name of Dusty, we have known each other for almost a full 20 minutes, we strap some harnesses on and clip together. Standing on the edge of the plane’s door 13,000 feet in the air… I take some deep breaths; look all around, “3! 2! 1!” I hear Dusty yell, and down we go. About 100sum odd MPH, and you know what I felt? The air kissing my face, the wind dancing with me and the view… amazing! And not one ounce of fear. It was more like freedom! He pulls the chute and we start to simple float for a while in the air. It was the most amazing exhilarating thing I’ve ever done in my life… so far that is :-)

Betsy, the lady who runs the drop zone at Skydive AZ in Eloy Arizona, had these words to share with me when I landed. “You stared your own mortality in the face, took a leap, and lived. Now that you’ve done this, (sky dived) know that there is nothing in this life you can’t do. Nothing in the world you can’t face, no trial you can’t get thru. You can do anything girl!” Ya know what, I think she’s right. Paul says it in Philippians, “I can do all things thru Him who gives me strength.”

I know of a young lady who was assaulted earlier this year and has only recently made the decision to report it. You see, she knows the assailant and out of fear, for the last 8 months she has lived with this dark shadow over her, always looking offer her shoulder, afraid to be in a crowd, or go to the store alone, despite the best efforts of loved ones around her, it wasn’t until she was willing to challenge that fear and face reality that she was able to “function normal” again. It was this young ladies story that inspired me to face my own fears. (you’ll hear more about her in another blog)
Ladies it’s time to take the power away from what scares us.
Another friend of mine was telling me about her daughter’s fear of the boogie man. She had watched Monsters Inc. and going to bed that night she insisted that there was a boogie man under her bed and a big blue monster in her closet. So mom standing at the door, with daughter warped around her leg, dad heads in with a flashlight, looks in the closest and shines the light around, looks under the bed and aside from the dust bunnies, nothing hiding under there. Wide eyed little girl climbs into bed with dad standing guard, a kiss goodnight and it’s off to dream land. She faced her fears with Daddy by her side, and a flashlight.
My sisters, there are boogie men out there, I won’t lie to you. If you jump out of a plane without a chute, you’re not brave, you’re a dead dummy. Walking by yourself in a dark parking lot is not the wisest decision either, but never leaving your home or not taking a risk here or there will turn you into the scary bird lady who lives on the corner and eats little children and cats. Well that’s what the neighborhood kids will think, until they are willing to challenge their own fear and discover you’re just a lonely lady who’s scared of your shadow. (Ok, that’s s bit extreme, but you get the idea) Here’s what I’m trying to say, “Only Thing We Have to Fear Is Fear Itself”: (FDR’s First Inaugural Address). Fear will prevent you from some amazing moments in life, keep you from destiny and could even kill you. It causes regret and spite and can’t be that good for your heart either. Fear will stop you, not protect you. It’s time to take that power away from our fears and turn it into trust we put in God. Yes, God! In Psalms 91 it talks about how God is our protector.
Or in Ezekiel he is JEHOVA-SHAMMAH (the LORD is There)
He IS ABHIR: 'Mighty One', ("to be strong") Gen. 49:24; Deut. 10:17; Psa. 132:2, 5; Isa. 1:24, 49:26, 60:1.
He IS our MAGEN: "Shield" Psa. 3:3, 18:30.

I am going to tell you something friends, I have seen a few things in my short 29 years, and still have A LOT to learn over the next 29+ years, I have met some people from all around the world and have some stories of my own, and here’s what I know thus far about life. I have no clue, no idea how to survive without Christ. Yes, bad things happen to good people. No, we really don’t have control. Not everyone wants the best for you. I don’t believe in fate? People will lie to get what they want. Integrity is a hard virtue to find in people these days. Good people do exist. And peanut butter with dawn dish soap will get gum out of your hair. Yeah, there are a few more lesions I’ve learned but these fit with this Blog. My friend the Garden Lady says this; “Walk as thou you are, so that you will be.” for the young lady who was assaulted it means to walk tall. For the little girl afraid of the boogie man it means trusting her daddy when he says there’s no monster under the bed. And for me, it means to take my fear (of highs in this story) stare it down and life free!
Take the power back sisters! Turn your fear into trust and live free!
What’s next for me? Scuba diving!

the search for water

So there I was, deep in the woods of Pine Arizona. Its dark, only the light of the moon and my handy-dandy flashlight to guide me thru the mountainous terrain; my quest was to find the water source. I have taken this trek many times before, however things were a little different. The path was overgrown from the spring rain and my land markers were no longer visible from the path… and it was 9 o’clock at night. So unprepared in my flip flops and shorts and little light I wonder into the night brush on a hunt for water.
I was out there for about 10minutes, had wondered into two different ditches, just about biffed it and was almost eaten alive by one monstrous spider when it occurred to me that there was another way. I remembered that there was a path by the road, it was not a short cut, but once I got up on the road and was able to look at the bank from a different angel I saw all the poison ivy I could have been wondering in and I noticed it was a little easier to see some land marks and look for the green lid in the dark and covered by green ivy (btw).
So I walked up and down the path right around the area I thought the switch was in and moving brush around… I found it! I slid down the bank and reached in to lift the spider covered lid, reached my hand into the pit, felt for the leaver and there it was. The water is now on. Success!
Trying to explain why it took me 20 min to do a 3 min job was to understand that even thou I’ve completed this task a few times before, it is always important to be prepared. Circumstances change, so even the seemingly “mundane” tasks in life we tackle, we should always be equipped for the assignments at hand, life can throw some unexpected events into our lives.
This little adventure reminded me of another lesion I learned from my friend, The Garden Lady.
One day we were walking in her garden and she was showing me all her plants and soil, we were talking about different seasons and seed and all this great garden stuff, when she handed me a knife and told me to go cut me some tomatoes. (Love tomatoes!) They were covered with bird netting, cause you got to protect fruit that is vulnerable to attack. And I gota say, man, were they the best tomato’s I’ve ever had! Then we came to her cucumber patch, it was big and growing over the pool fence. The Garden Lady said you can’t get to the cucumbers from this angel, ya see in life we are so “gun-ho” to get what we want that we approach things from the wrong angle, we miss the point and get frustrated and miss out on some good fruit in life. Sometimes you have to go at it from another direction. As she unlocked the pool gate and lead me to the other side of the cucumber plant she handed me the knife again and said here, it’s not a short cut, you’ll get a little scratched up, but you can reach them from here, the reward will be worth it.
Later that afternoon I had one of the best fresh salads in the world!

The lessons I learned are there;
1)Be prepared in and out of season for all occasions
2)Protect the “fresh fruit” in you life and allow it to grow
3)When life happens, look at all the angles and think about your approach.
And 4) When life gives you lemons, grab the vodka, a friend, two lawn chairs and enjoy the moment! (lol)
But seriously, in keeping with the theme of this blog, sharing stories about life, it is important to remember that third lesion; looking at all the angels and taking the best approach in dealing with… well, life.
Tell me friends, are you prepared and willing to take the time to respond to life rather then react? Do you have a story about some life lessons you had to learn the hard way?

What If Jesus were to spend a day here?

I had a conversation with a girlfriend the other day and we were wondering what Jesus would look like if he were to walk the earth in our day here and now.
Joan Osbourne asked the question back in 1995; “What if God was one of us, just a slob like one of us just a stranger on the bus trying to make his way home” she asks what his name would be and what would his face look like. I think this song caused a lot of people to start to ask the question, “who is he?”
Almost ten years later Todd Agnew released; “My Jesus” a song that asks the same questions Osbourne did but poses these questions to the Church. Both songs from vary different people asking the deep heart questions that are already on all of our minds.
So back to this conversation I had with my friend Dee. We were both going thru a rough time. Ya know when life just seams to jump out at ya and pulls your hair and drags you down a road you really didn’t want to walk down? Well that’s where we were. I was telling my friend about a “come to Jesus” talk I had with… Jesus. I was SO mad and had this crapy attitude and just couldn’t understand the “whys” of life, or where God was when I needed him. I yelled at the top of my lungs at God and said; “WHERE ARE YOU? I NEED YOU AND YOU’RE NOT HERE! SHOW UP, WOULD YA!” I took a deep breath and I got this vision in my head, but it ran deeper then just my minds eye, it was like I had been transported to another place in time. I was walking on a beach (I LOVE the beach) the crisp air from the ocean, I could smell it, it was so sweet and the cool breeze graced my face. As I was walking the shore line bare foot of cores, I heard my name, “Hey Ra, over here” (Rara is a family name, very special name to me) so I look up and I see these two beach chairs and there was a man sitting in one, holding a cold beer, wearing sunglasses and one of those cheesy beach hats guys ware, waving me over. I walked closer, I could smell his sweet cigar and this guy stood up, embraced me with the biggest hug EVER, and we sat there had a beer and watched the ocean wash back and forth on the sand for hours. It was the most peaceful my heart had been in a while. I look over at this man and he had the biggest grin on his face, no one said a word, words weren’t’ needed. The sun had set, and it was time to go. We got up, the man held me so tight and safe in his arms and he whispered in my ear so tenderly, “I’m always with you. Always.” Just as quick as I found myself on the beach, I was back in the deserts of Arizona, but now I had a peace that truly is beyond my understanding.
So my friend and I talked a little longer and imagined and pondered what Jesus would be like if he were to come “hang for a day” here on earth. Would he meet me for a drink after work? Would he squat down on Mill Ave and have a cigarette with the street kids? Would he meet you at Paradise Bakery for lunch or over at Starbucks for an Iced Mocha? Would he ride a Harley? Would he be down at the bar drinkin scotch, dirty with a cigar hangin with the boys? If Jesus were to come visit you for a day, what would that look like? Here’s another question for ya, how do you introduce Jesus to your friends? Is he a clean cut man who opens doors for you? Is he a little rough around the edges, but knows your heart deeply. Is he so Holy that you have to make an appointment and go visit him in his office, or does he meet you and the park and walk in the grass barefoot and no shirt?
I guess my point is this girlfriends, that vision of Jesus on the beach spoke to a need in my heart that only Jesus could speak to. I was talking with another friend the other night at the bar and the Jesus on the beach means nothing to her, she needed to know that Jesus would meet her at the bar and have a drink with her and touch her heart. There is something I have learned over the past two years about sharing and introducing Jesus to people who don’t KNOW Him. Ya gota find where Jesus can be good news to them. Listen to their brokenness, and allow Jesus to speak to their hurt. All we (believers and followers of Jesus) have to do is listen. God handles the rest.
Here are the lyrics to the two songs I mentioned.

Joan Osbourne; One of Us
If God had a name, what would it be
And would you call it to his face
If you were faced with him in all his glory
What would you ask if you had just one question
And yeah yeah God is great yeah yeah
God is goodyeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
What if God was one of us
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
If God had a face what would it look like
And would you want to see
If seeing meant that you would have to believe
In things like heaven and in jesus and the saints and all the prophets
And yeah yeah god is great
yeah yeah god is good
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
What if God was one of us
Just a slob like one of usJust a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
He's trying to make his way home
Back up to heaven all alone
Nobody calling on the phone
Except for the pope maybe in rome
And yeah yeah God is great
yeah yeah God is good
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
What if god was one of us
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
Just trying to make his way home
Like a holy rolling stoneBack up to heaven all alone
Just trying to make his way homeNobody calling on the phone
Except for the pope maybe in rome


Todd Agnew; My Jesus
Which Jesus do you follow?
Which Jesus do you serve?
If Ephesians says to imitate Christ
Then why do you look so much like the world?
Cause my Jesus bled and died
He spent His time with thieves and liars
He loved the poor and accosted the arrogant
So which one do you want to be?
Blessed are the poor in spirit
Or do we pray to be blessed with the wealth of this land
Blessed are they that hunger and thirst for righteousness
Or do we ache for another taste of this world of shifting sand
Cause my Jesus bled and died for my sins
He spent His time with thieves and sluts and liars
He loved the poor and accosted the rich
So which one do you want to be?
Who is this that you follow
This picture of the American dream
If Jesus was here would you walk right by on the other side
or fall down and worship at His holy feet
Pretty blue eyes and curly brown hair and a clear complexion
Is how you see Him as He dies for Your sins
But the Word says He was battered and scarred
Or did you miss that part
Sometimes I doubt we'd recognize Him
Cause my Jesus bled and died
He spent His time with thieves and the least of these
He loved the poor and accosted the comfortable
So which one do you want to be?
Cause my Jesus would never be accepted in my church
The blood and dirt on His feet might stain the carpet
But He reaches for the hurting and despises the proud
I think He'd prefer Beale St. to the stained glass crowd
And I know that He can hear me if I cry out loud
I want to be like my Jesus!I want to be like my Jesus!
I want to be like my Jesus!I want to be like my Jesus!
Not a posterchild for American prosperity, but like my Jesus
You see I'm tired of living for success and popularity
I want to be like my Jesus but I'm not sure what that means
to be like You JesusCause You said to live like You, love like You but then You died for me
Can I be like You Jesus?
I want to be like you Jesus!
I want to be like my Jesus!

Getting Started

Well hello Blogger world! My name is Wimmer and I am here to share stories with you from women around the world and right here in our own back yard. This Blog has been created with the intent to share the good the bad the ugly and beautiful stories of life as a woman.
It is my option that all women share these three things in common, 1) we all want to be loved and accepted, 2) we all have fear and 3) we all have a stories to tell about the first two.
So I invite you to read, comment, ponder and share your own stories of life. from how to cook up a mean pot roast, to how to raise a family on your own, from moving from victim mode into living as a survivor from the trials of life. Share with us your struggle and addiction and what side of the fence you decided to live on.
I hope to encourage you with sorties of triumph and inspire you to fight strong in defeat. I wish for you to discover with me, "who you are and whose you are". Come along with me my sisters; come join me in a journey of adventure and discovery into the heart of a woman.