a: the people with common interests living in a particular area
b: a group of people with a common characteristic or interest living together within a larger society
c: a body of persons of common and especially professional interests scattered through a larger society
d: a body of persons or nations having a common history or common social, economic, and political interests
e: a group linked by a common policy
f: an interacting population of various kinds of individuals (such as species) in a common location
I love my community!
I love it!
Where is my community? It’s Clarksville, TN and it.is.awesome!
My heart grows deeper and wider for it every single day.
There are so many people here. We are right next to Fort Campbell, KY (a military installation) which means that we are a very transient community. That also allows us to have many different cultures, languages, ethnicities, religions, socioeconomic statuses, and family dynamics. The diversity of our community is part of the reason that I love it so much!
I will never forget when Larry and I talked about moving to Clarksville with his job. I was all for it, that was until the day we went to move and then I wanted to back out. I didn’t want to move up here. I had this feeling that something was going to happen and anytime I get a feeling like that I want to run.
I mean like run like the wind run.
That feeling was so overwhelming that I couldn’t shake it.
That feeling scared me. I didn’t know what was going to happen, I just knew that I didn’t like it. It was uncomfortable. It was not normal. It was eerie.
Obviously, we did move to Clarksville.
Now instead of being a short walk from his parents and a 15-minute drive from my parents, we were an hour drive away. Now instead of being a 20-minute drive to the office, I had a 45-minute drive if traffic wasn’t bad.
I was intimidated by all of that. I was uncertain of what the future was going to hold for us here.
That was 23 years ago.
Clarksville has been a place of ups and downs, happiness and sadness, depression and anxiety, joy and amazement. A place where my marriage fell completely apart and was brought back together by God. It has been a place where my family has grown from a small family of 3 to a family of 5. A place where Larry and I went from being lost to leading a church.
Clarksville went from being my foe to being my friend. I didn’t enjoy the beginning very much and felt very much like an outsider. I no longer feel that way. I feel more connected now than ever before.
My heart beats for Clarksville.
It is my mission field. It is where I am called to serve. It is where the rubber meets the road with my faith.
I love the fact that I get to live in this community. A community of approximately 185,000 people and growing exponentially, where nearly 85% of them are unchurch and unsaved. A community where the harvest is plentiful, and the workers are few.
This mission field is not for everyone. It is a hot mess of a place, just like your mission fields.
It is a mission field that is riddled with crime, domestic violence, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, drugs, prostitution, sex trafficking, abuse, homelessness, and traffic accidents galore. A place where PTSD, anxiety, depression, and loneliness consume people. It’s a place where fear has taken over.
One that is full of hopeless people who need hope.
One that is full of faithless people that need faith.
One that is full of people feeling unloved that need to know they are loved.
God called me to this mission field 23 years ago, before I was even saved. God has used Clarksville, TN to bring me to Him, to open my heart to the calling He has placed on my life, and to see the world around me as He sees it.
I do not see Clarksville as a hopeless mission field. I see it as a place that needs Jesus more than anything. I see it as a place that God has given me hope and is wanting me to share the hope that I have in Him with those around me. I see it as a place where God is moving in so many ways! Clarksville has many amazing organizations that are Christ-centered as well as many, many churches. With that being said, it takes us all working together for the Glory of God to accomplish His will!
That is true of each and every mission field out there!
So, where is your mission field? What has God called you to? What are you doing to serve your community? Is there an organization in your area that God is tugging at your heart to serve in? Is there a need that you see in your area that is going unmet that you have a passion for? These are all legit questions to ask yourself. If you don’t have answers for them, pray and ask God to answer them.
I love football! I have my favorite NFL team. I have my favorite SEC team. I also have my favorite high school team.
My favorite high school football team is the West Creek High Coyotes. Why? Well, all 3 of my kiddos have attended that school and Peyton, my middle child, is an Education Aide there. Our church, Crossroads Fellowship, is also partners in education with them. I love that school. We like to show our support to them by attending sporting events and other activities.
Friday night, August 19, 2022, was the home opener for the school. It was a white out game, you wear white team shirts rather than black team shirts. We got to the field a little early so that we could participate in the tailgate party for the different grades and talk to the teachers that were there as well. Let me tell you, there was a crowd there, over 900 people. The morale of the students, parents, and teachers was so high! It was such a blessing to see so many smiles, hear so much laughter, and to see so many students with face paint.
When it came time for the game to start, the game ball was flown in via the Austin Peay State University Helicopter by the professor of aviation. It was given to the last 6 remaining original staff from the opening of the school. The teams took the field and started playing. It was a good game. Lots of action. Lots of fun. We were losing but it was still amazing to be there in the stands.
Fast forward to half-time. The marching band took the field and performed part of their show. I loved it! I marched in high school and I always look forward to seeing the bands perform.
Time for the 3rd quarter. The teams take the field and start playing again. I was in the stands sitting with Larry, Peyton, Zenas, Amanda, and Kurt. We were talking and laughing and just having a good old time. I look up at the end zone and a herd of kids was on the move. My immediate thought was “where’s the fight?”. Nothing came of it so we went back to watching the game.
All of a sudden I’m watching the visiting team hurdle the fence and run for the buses.
Then the gunshots.
Then the orders to lay flat in the bleachers.
I am laying flat on my stomach facing Peyton. Zenas was covering her with his body. She is starting to have a panic attack. I wanted her to focus to help calm her so I had her look in my eyes. Her beautiful brown eyes were so full of fear and I could tell that she was thinking back to the first shooting she ever experienced. The whole time I’m telling her to focus on my eyes and in my head was praying like I have never prayed before. Stay focused. Keep looking in my eyes. She eventually calmed down and we were able to focus on our surroundings.
We were told to remain flat for what seemed like an eternity.
Finally the scene was secured. They came over the loud speaker and announced what was going to happen next. They ordered us to stay in the stands. Then started calling the names of students, they were instructed to go to the tennis courts to meet their parents. It was controlled chaos that was beautifully executed. Eventually they allowed the rest of us to exit the stands and head to our cars.
We, Larry and I, stayed around for a while. We talked to some of the teachers. We talked to some of the administrators. We talked to some of the teachers kids that were there.
When we finally got in our cars and left the parking lot, they were routing all of the game traffic through the adjacent neighborhood. There were so many blue lights. When we got onto the main road to head to the house, there were more blue lights. There was also a white car on the side of the road. The car that was used by the perpetrators. The car that carried the 18-year old, the 17-year old, and the 16-year old along with the weapon that was used.
Praise Jesus that no one was hurt or killed.
Praise Jesus for the way that the School Resource Officers were so attentive that they were able to catch them so quickly.
Praise Jesus for the Clarksville Police Department.
Praise Jesus for the Clarksville-Montgomery County Sherriff’s office.
The story of that night doesn’t end here. It hasn’t ended yet. I am still processing it. I am still trying to wrap my head around the events of that night.
This Friday night, September 16, 2022, will be the first home game since that happened. It also happens to be the homecoming game. I don’t know what the night will look like. I don’t know what will happen. I do know that I am going to attend the game. I am not going to allow fear to overcome me and hold me back.
Don’t get me wrong, I am anxious about it, as are so many others.
However, God did not give me a spirit of fear and I will not live in fear. God is bigger that the trauma suffered. God is good and He is faithful! I can’t wait to see how God shows up!
I am more than just the Earn As You Learn program director for the center.
I was first a client. Not a pregnancy test and counseling client, but a post-abortion woman who needed to find the healing that God has to offer and to know that I had not committed the one unpardonable sin. That even though I chose to have an abortion that I was still loved, valued, important, and deserving to live.
Friday, June 24th, 2022 was a day in history that many are saddened, angered, frustrated by while others are rejoicing and declaring that it is an answer to prayer.
I found myself with such an insane amount of emotion that day. I was happy, sad, terrified, mortified, frustrated, confused, and burdened all at the same time. I was taken back to before my abortion and the emotions that I felt finding out that I was pregnant and not knowing what to do. I had a boyfriend who was telling me that he was not ready for a baby and to abort. I had a mom who was supportive of that decision. I had brought shame to my family for getting pregnant before marriage. There was so much going on at that time and it was so confusing. I remember the thoughts going through my head of “if I just commit suicide now everything will go away. No one will know that I was pregnant, and I wouldn’t bring any further shame to my family. I won’t be missed anyway.” Then my mind went to “well what if I just runaway and have the baby. My boyfriend won’t have to know where I am or what happened with the baby. I could just raise her on my own.” It then drifted to “I’ll just give the baby up for adoption. I’ll have her, send her on her way with an adoptive family and never think of her again.” I poked holes in each one of these theories. If I committed suicide I would leave behind my brother, my nieces, and the few friends I had. I would miss out on so much that I truly wasn’t ready to miss out on. Running away wasn’t an option because I didn’t know any where I could run to. I was only 19 and the only job I had held at that point was Wal-Mart. I couldn’t support myself and a baby working at Wal-Mart! I was “adopted” by my great aunt and uncle. I knew the things that I had gone through, and I didn’t want my child to go through those same things and when you give a child up for adoption you don’t know what they are headed into.
I was so against abortion. I truly didn’t want to have one. I also didn’t want to be dumped by the man I loved. I didn’t want to be know as the child that brought shame on the family. So, against all of my heart, I decided to have an abortion.
I called Planned Parenthood in Nashville and set up an appointment. At the time there was a 48-hour waiting period for an abortion. You went in for your initial appointment, then you scheduled the appointment for the abortion 48 hours later.
I went in for the initial appointment. My heart was already hardened, and my mind was already made up. At that point, nothing said to me would change my mind. I completed the intake paperwork and was called back to a room. I sat across the desk from the “counselor” and the only thing that I heard was Charlie Brown’s teacher. You know what I’m talking about, the wah-wahwahwah-wah. That is all I heard. I knew how far along I was in the pregnancy, and I knew that time was running out. I was 11 weeks 4 days along. I only had 3 more days to have the abortion before I would no longer be eligible.
Let that sink in, 11 weeks 4 days along all because I was in such a desperate state that I couldn’t even think straight.
I went home that morning and tried everything to get my mind off of what was going to happen in 48 hours. I watched movies, worked, and played video games. I didn’t sleep. I cried. I got angry at everyone around me and myself. I tried to rationalize my decision. Nothing worked. Nothing could get my mind off of what I was fixing to do.
October 22, 1992. A day that is burned into my mind. A day I will never forget. My mom and I stopped at the ATM and got the money. I drove her to the clinic. She came in and waited in the waiting room with me. I waited for my name to be called. When they called my name, I was walked back to the changing area. There was a locker for my belongings to go in while the procedure was taking place. I changed into the gown that was given to me and waited for them to take me to the procedure room.
While I was waiting, I remember hearing “get down, get dressed, and leave.”
I didn’t.
They came and got me. We walked a short distance to the procedure room. Here I was instructed to lay down on the table and wait for the doctor. I laid down and immediately heard, “get down, get dressed, and leave.”
I didn’t.
The nurse came in the room and stood by my head. There was a poster of Hawaii on the ceiling that she told me to focus on, so I did. Again I heard “get down, get dressed, and leave.”
I didn’t.
Next the doctor came in. He came in through a door at my feet. He never said a word. The nurse was the one who spoke. She told me when he was going to give me the shot on my cervix (this was the only pain blocker made available to me). She then told me when he would insert the tool used to dilate my cervix enough for the instruments to be inserted. She said it wouldn’t hurt.
She lied.
The nurse kept telling me that I was doing a good job. To keep looking at the poster and breathe, that it would all be over soon.
She lied.
The doctor inserted the instruments and turned the machine on. Oh, that machine and the awful sound it made. I will never forget that sound. I will never forget that smell. I will never forget the stupid Hawaii poster.
She continued to tell me that I was doing a good job.
She lied.
The doctor turned the machine off, got up off of the stool, and walked right back out the door he came through. The nurse had me sit up on the side of the bed for a moment. In that moment I was sights that I should have never seen. I saw the bloodied instruments and the ultrasound machine he used. I will never forget those images. Ever. When I was ready the nurse led me to a room that had several recliners in it. There were lots of women there. We all had just had abortions. However, we were all handling it differently. There was one woman talking about what she was going to do after she left there. There was another woman giggling. Some of us were sitting silently. Some of us were crying. We sat there for a designated time then we were allowed to change and leave.
I got my mom and we went home. She drove. We didn’t say a word.
It was over and done with. No biggie. Problem solved.
Biggest lie ever told! Problem solved.
The amount of collateral damage that happened following my abortion is insane. I can’t even begin to explain to you the depths of my depression, the amount of regret, shame and secrecy I had to live with. All while trying to process through what had happened, trying to hold it together for my boyfriend and family. Relationships suffered. Mental health declined. Fear set in. I was just a shell of a person following these events.
Let’s not even talk about the due date or Mother’s Day.
Fast forward 7 months and I find myself in the same shoes. Pregnant again by the same boyfriend. This time things happened differently. He proposed. We got married in July of 1993 and in February 1994 we welcomed our son. Six years go by and in July of 1999, we welcome our daughter. Then another 3 and a half years go by, and we found out we were expecting again. However, this pregnancy was not like my others.
My husband and I went in for a dating ultrasound. The tech started the ultrasound and not too far into it her face changed. She was now solemn and said that she needed to get a doctor. They would not let us see the monitor nor would they tell us what was going on. They said that they would send the results to my doctor and that his office would call me. A day later, the doctor himself called me and said that they did not find a heartbeat. There was an embryonic sac, but no heartbeat was detected. He informed me that I would need to come to his office the next day for lab work and then 48 hours after that appointment, for more lab work. I went to his office, and he explained to me that they were checking my HCG levels. The HCG levels of a viable pregnancy should steadily be going up. If the pregnancy was not viable my HCG levels would go down in those 48 hours. They got my numbers from the first test and then they got the numbers from my second test. Unfortunately, my HCG levels plummeted. I had what was called a blighted ovum. For those of you who do not know what that is, here is the definition: A condition that occurs when a gestational sac develops without an embryo. Our world was shattered. He said that he could do a D&C to remove the sac and clean up the uterus. We scheduled it for a few days later. For those that do not know, a D&C is essentially a surgical abortion (remember my abortion story). For the second time in my life, I had a D&C. The difference this time was that there was never a baby formed in my womb. This time I would be put to sleep and would feel no physical pain. Only the pain of the loss when I woke up.
Had I not had the D&C when I did, I would have eventually miscarried that pregnancy. I would have had to of gone through the physical pain and suffering of knowing that my body failed me, that it had teased me with a pregnancy that was never viable. It had made us think that we would be welcoming another sweet soul into our family. The thing with a pregnancy like that is that you never know when you will miscarry. It could be early on, or it could be later. I did not want to go through that pain if I did not have to.
It took a very long time for me to get over that loss. A very long time.
Three years later, we decided to try to have another baby. (There is a great story behind that, but I will save it for another time.) We were blessed with a pregnancy pretty quickly, but I was petrified. What if the same thing happened? What if something happens to the baby? What if something happens to me? There were so many what ifs with that pregnancy that I was a hot mess the entire pregnancy. However, in March of 2006 we welcomed our last child, another daughter.
I share all of these experiences with you all to let you know that I have been in the same shoes many of you have been or are in at the moment. Our circumstances and stories are different but similar. I do what I do because I love everyone.
I want to see the brokenhearted healed.
I want to see the captive set free.
I want to see those that are lost saved.
I want you to know that you are more than a decision that was made.
I want you to know that you are more that a law that was put into place or reversed.
No matter what your decision is in your life, your life matters.
I am pro
I am more than just the Earn As You Learn program director for the center. I was first a client. Not a pregnancy test and counseling client, but a post-abortion woman client who needed to find the healing that God has to offer and to know that I had not committed the one unpardonable sin. That even though I chose to have an abortion that I was still loved, valued, important, and deserving to live.
Friday, June 24th, 2022 was a day in history that many are saddened, angered, frustrated by while others are rejoicing and declaring that it is an answer to prayer.
I found myself with such an insane amount of emotion that day. I was happy, sad, mortified, frustrated, confused, and burdened all at the same time. I was taken back to before my abortion and the emotions that I felt finding out that I was pregnant and not knowing what to do. I had a boyfriend who was telling me that he was not ready for a baby and to abort. I had a mom who was supportive of that decision. I had brought shame to my family for getting pregnant before marriage. There was so much going on at that time and it was so confusing. I remember the thoughts going through my head of “if I just commit suicide now everything will go away. No one will know that I was pregnant, and I wouldn’t bring any further shame to my family. I won’t be missed anyway.” Then my mind went to “well what if I just runaway and have the baby. My boyfriend won’t have to know where I am or what happened with the baby. I could just raise her on my own.” It then drifted to “I’ll just give the baby up for adoption. I’ll have her, send her on her way with an adoptive family and never think of her again.” I poked holes in each one of these theories. If I committed suicide I would leave behind my brother, my nieces, and the few friends I had. I would miss out on so much that I truly wasn’t ready to miss out on. Running away wasn’t an option because I didn’t know any where I could run to. I was only 19 and the only job I had held at that point was Wal-Mart. I couldn’t support myself and a baby working at Wal-Mart! I was “adopted” by my great aunt and uncle. I knew the things that I had gone through, and I didn’t want my child to go through those same things and when you give a child up for adoption you don’t know what they are headed into.
I was so against abortion. I truly didn’t want to have one. I also didn’t want to be dumped by the man I loved. I didn’t want to be know as the child that brought shame on the family. So, against all of my heart, I decided to have an abortion.
I called Planned Parenthood in Nashville and set up an appointment. At the time there was a 48-hour waiting period for an abortion. You went in for your initial appointment, then you scheduled the appointment for the abortion 48 hours later.
I went in for the initial appointment. My heart was already hardened, and my mind was already made up. At that point, nothing said to me would change my mind. I completed the intake paperwork and was called back to a room. I sat across the desk from the “counselor” and the only thing that I heard was Charlie Brown’s teacher. You know what I’m talking about, the wah-wahwahwah-wah. That is all I heard. I knew how far along I was in the pregnancy, and I knew that time was running out. I was 11 weeks 4 days along. I only had 3 more days to have the abortion before I would no longer be eligible.
Let that sink in, 11 weeks 4 days along all because I was in such a desperate state that I couldn’t even think straight.
I went home that morning and tried everything to get my mind off of what was going to happen in 48 hours. I watched movies, worked, and played video games. I didn’t sleep. I cried. I got angry at everyone around me and myself. I tried to rationalize my decision. Nothing worked. Nothing could get my mind off of what I was fixing to do.
October 22, 1992. A day that is burned into my mind. A day I will never forget. My mom and I stopped at the ATM and got the money. I drove her to the clinic. She came in and waited in the waiting room with me. I waited for my name to be called. When they called my name, I was walked back to the changing area. There was a locker for my belongings to go in while the procedure was taking place. I changed into the gown that was given to me and waited for them to take me to the procedure room.
While I was waiting, I remember hearing “get down, get dressed, and leave.”
I didn’t.
They came and got me. We walked a short distance to the procedure room. Here I was instructed to lay down on the table and wait for the doctor. I laid down and immediately heard, “get down, get dressed, and leave.”
I didn’t.
The nurse came in the room and stood by my head. There was a poster of Hawaii on the ceiling that she told me to focus on, so I did. Again I heard “get down, get dressed, and leave.”
I didn’t.
Next the doctor came in. He came in through a door at my feet. He never said a word. The nurse was the one who spoke. She told me when he was going to give me the shot on my cervix (this was the only pain blocker made available to me). She then told me when he would insert the tool used to dilate my cervix enough for the instruments to be inserted. She said it wouldn’t hurt.
She lied.
The nurse kept telling me that I was doing a good job. To keep looking at the poster and breathe, that it would all be over soon.
She lied.
The doctor inserted the instruments and turned the machine on. Oh, that machine and the awful sound it made. I will never forget that sound. I will never forget that smell. I will never forget the stupid Hawaii poster.
She continued to tell me that I was doing a good job.
She lied.
The doctor turned the machine off, got up off of the stool, and walked right back out the door he came through. The nurse had me sit up on the side of the bed for a moment. In that moment I was sights that I should have never seen. I saw the bloodied instruments and the ultrasound machine he used. I will never forget those images. Ever. When I was ready the nurse led me to a room that had several recliners in it. There were lots of women there. We all had just had abortions. However, we were all handling it differently. There was one woman talking about what she was going to do after she left there. There was another woman giggling. Some of us were sitting silently. Some of us were crying. We sat there for a designated time then we were allowed to change and leave.
I got my mom and we went home. She drove. We didn’t say a word.
It was over and done with. No biggie. Problem solved.
Biggest lie ever told! Problem solved.
The amount of collateral damage that happened following my abortion is insane. I can’t even begin to explain to you the depths of my depression, the amount of regret, shame and secrecy I had to live with. All while trying to process through what had happened, trying to hold it together for my boyfriend and family. Relationships suffered. Mental health declined. Fear set in. I was just a shell of a person following these events.
Let’s not even talk about the due date or Mother’s Day.
Fast forward 7 months and I find myself in the same shoes. Pregnant again by the same boyfriend. This time things happened differently. He proposed. We got married in July of 1993 and in February 1994 we welcomed our son. Six years go by and in July of 1999, we welcome our daughter. Then another 3 and a half years go by, and we found out we were expecting again. However, this pregnancy was not like my others.
My husband and I went in for a dating ultrasound. The tech started the ultrasound and not too far into it her face changed. She was now solemn and said that she needed to get a doctor. They would not let us see the monitor nor would they tell us what was going on. They said that they would send the results to my doctor and that his office would call me. A day later, the doctor himself called me and said that they did not find a heartbeat. There was an embryonic sac, but no heartbeat was detected. He informed me that I would need to come to his office the next day for lab work and then 48 hours after that appointment, for more lab work. I went to his office, and he explained to me that they were checking my HCG levels. The HCG levels of a viable pregnancy should steadily be going up. If the pregnancy was not viable my HCG levels would go down in those 48 hours. They got my numbers from the first test and then they got the numbers from my second test. Unfortunately, my HCG levels plummeted. I had what was called a blighted ovum. For those of you who do not know what that is, here is the definition: A condition that occurs when a gestational sac develops without an embryo. Our world was shattered. He said that he could do a D&C to remove the sac and clean up the uterus. We scheduled it for a few days later. For those that do not know, a D&C is essentially a surgical abortion (remember my abortion story). For the second time in my life, I had a D&C. The difference this time was that there was never a baby formed in my womb. This time I would be put to sleep and would feel no physical pain. Only the pain of the loss when I woke up.
Had I not had the D&C when I did, I would have eventually miscarried that pregnancy. I would have had to of gone through the physical pain and suffering of knowing that my body failed me, that it had teased me with a pregnancy that was never viable. It had made us think that we would be welcoming another sweet soul into our family. The thing with a pregnancy like that is that you never know when you will miscarry. It could be early on, or it could be later. I did not want to go through that pain if I did not have to.
It took a very long time for me to get over that loss. A very long time.
Three years later, we decided to try to have another baby. (There is a great story behind that, but I will save it for another time.) We were blessed with a pregnancy pretty quickly, but I was petrified. What if the same thing happened? What if something happens to the baby? What if something happens to me? There were so many what ifs with that pregnancy that I was a hot mess the entire pregnancy. However, in March of 2006 we welcomed our last child, another daughter.
I share all of these experiences with you all to let you know that I have been in the same shoes many of you have been or are in at the moment. Our circumstances and stories are different but similar. I do what I do because I love everyone.
I want to see the brokenhearted healed.
I want to see the captive set free.
I want to see those that are lost saved.
I want you to know that you are more than a decision that was made.
I want you to know that you are more that a law that was put into place or reversed.
No matter what your decision is in your life, your life matters.
Give me a minute. Let me explain myself to you guys.
I am pro-life, with pro-life not being limited to simply saying don’t have an abortion.
I am pro-life, meaning that EVERY life is valuable. Every.single.one.
Many of you know that I work for a pro-life, Christ-centered, crisis pregnancy center. This place has my heart! I love working there. I love serving my community in this capacity.
What do you think of when it comes to a crisis pregnancy center? For some, you may think that we are there to perform abortions. For others, you may think that we are there to shove Jesus down their throats and shun them for being in the situation that they are in. Reality is that we do not perform, nor do we refer out women for, abortions. We do not shove Jesus down women’s throats, nor do we shun them. We are there to meet our clients where they are. If they are there because of an unwanted crisis pregnancy or just to find out they are pregnant, we give them a pregnancy test (for free) and, if they qualify, we give them an ultrasound (for free). If their pregnancy test comes back positive, we go over all options with them. While we do not refer out for abortions, we do inform them of what the procedure is for surgical abortion and the steps that it takes for a chemical abortion. We give them information about adoption should they choose that route. The one step that people really do not realize that we do is that we are there for these women that do choose life and choose to keep their babies. We do not simply tell them they are pregnant, and they need to keep the baby then send them on their way. We offer them support. We connect them with resources in the community that can help better their lives. We have physical items to help them. We stand beside them not just for the first little bit, but we have the ability to walk alongside of them for at least the first two years of life.
What does that support look like? Well, for starters, we give them free maternity clothes. We offer prenatal and parenting classes, which include car seat safety training. At the end of those classes, they are given a baby shower to celebrate them. For some, this is the only baby shower they will have. They are given gifts and a car seat at the shower. They are also offered the chance to be in one of our amazing programs. They can participate in our Mom 2 Mom program or our Earn As You Learn program. Each of these programs are amazing in their own way but both of them reward our ladies with Mommy Money. With the Mommy Money that they earn, they get to shop in our on-site store, Josephine’s Closet.
Our Mom 2 Mom program is an amazing program in which a client from our center is paired up with a seasoned mom from the community that has gone through our training. Then they attend workshops, meet up with one another and simply do life together. This helps our clients to learn how to parent, ask a seasoned mom questions about parenting, and it builds community, all while earning points to go shopping in Josephine’s Closet.
The Earn As You Learn program is a program that rewards moms for doing what they are already doing, such as going to the OB, taking baby to the well-baby check-ups, getting on WIC, going to the prenatal classes at the hospitals, participating in classes offered by local agencies to help better their lives, and by taking online courses about pregnancy, parenting, what to expect, and even fatherhood! We like to connect our clients with others in the community as well, so we share with them about MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) and MomLife. We also encourage and offer help for trauma recovery. There is even a free financial workshop that they can attend that helps them with budgeting, raising their credit score, teaching them what it takes to purchase a house, and how to give back with dignity.
So, what is in Josephine’s Closet? Pretty much everything that is needed for baby for the first couple of years. We have formula, baby food, blankets, sheets, diapers, wipes, toiletries, clothes, bottles, socks, hats, burp cloths, sleep sacks, swaddlers, shoes, jackets, holiday and seasonal items. We also have everything a breastfeeding mom needs, such as, breast pumps, coverups, nursing pads, nursing bras and shirts, breast milk storage bags and bottles. All of these items are available to families that participate in our programs.
But we still offer more! We have an on-site counselor that is there for our clients who need a counselor. We have our Hope for Healing program as well. This program covers miscarriage, pregnancy and infant loss, and post-abortion healing. Yes, you read that right, post-abortion healing. We even love on the mothers who have had an abortion in their past.
You see, being pro-life is much more than simply saying “don’t have an abortion”. Being pro-life is loving every single life, fetus to elderly. No matter what race, religion, identity, or sexual orientation. We are to love all! I am much, much more than pro-life.
July 4th, birthdays, vacation, and our anniversary.
This July we celebrate our middle child’s 21st birthday.
What the heck?!?!? 21 years old.
It has been a crazy, emotional, terrifying, joyful, hopeful journey.
From the moment she was conceived to this day, she has always been special. There has always been something about her that has stuck out and it has been hard to pinpoint what it is.
Until now.
Here is my story as her mom. I am not going to air out her stuff because it is not my place. She has an amazing testimony that, when it comes time for her to share with the world, will change the lives of those that hear it.
So here goes.
22 years ago, we had a series of events that changed our lives.
22 years ago, we discovered in November that we were pregnant with our second child. I was ecstatic. Our oldest was 4 ½ and I had wanted another baby for a while. When I found out I was pregnant I was overjoyed.
January 21 years ago, shook our world. Larry had gotten a phone call telling him that the next day the company that he was working for was going to announce that they were closing the branch that he worked at. Panic set in as he was the insurance carrier and we were trying to figure everything out with all of that. We were up until 2am the next morning. Then, a little after 4am we awoke to the growl of our power going out and realizing that Clarksville was being hit by a devastating F3 tornado.
Those months were emotionally crazy for us. But the craziness was not over. You see when we went to have our anatomy scan with her, they discovered something wrong on the ultrasound. They saw “pockets of air” around her skull. When we asked what that meant they told us that the doctor would call us and talk to us. A day or so later he called and said that he was going to send us to a specialist for a better ultrasound because what they saw on the ultrasound could be a symptom of congestive heart failure.
Wait. What?
We did not really process through that before we went to the specialist. When we got to our appointment, we went back for the ultrasound and she looked perfect. Her hair was flowing in the amniotic fluid, her face was beautiful. Then she spit. LOL!! Anyway, the specialist looked at the ultrasound then called us into his office to discuss the results. He introduced himself then proceeded to ask us why we thought we were there. We told him. Then he said well she does not have congestive heart failure; she is just fat!
Those words have stuck with me these past 21 years because they were the most comforting words I had ever heard!!! Time would prove that the doctor was right!
We thought that the craziness with the pregnancy were over then, at 7 months, the doctor went to listen to her heartbeat and found it much higher than it should have been for a baby that is in the proper birthing position. Because of this, we had to have an ultrasound at every appointment to check her positioning. She was heads down on every ultrasound, but we were hearing the heartbeat way too high. Anyway, this went on until the day of delivery, when they finally discovered that she was in the right position, her head was just stuck on my pelvis.
Wait. What?
I will spare you the gruesome details of her delivery just needless to say it was even more eventful than the pregnancy. She has heard it many times. If you really want to hear it, I will share it with you. 🙂
It has been an adventure to say the least, but I would not change it for the world.
She has had her ups and downs. She has lived well, and she has lived not so well. She is loved deeply by those who love her, and she has been hurt deeply by them as well. She loves fiercely and, like her momma, she also protects fiercely.
She, like most 21-year old’s, is writing her testimony. She is fighting her own demons and you know what? She is winning!
She is an amazing daughter and one that is a force to be reckoned with.
God has great plans for her, and I cannot wait to see what they are.
I am ever so thankful that He chose me to be her mom.
Happy Birthday Princess! You are loved more than you will ever know.
July 4th this year was AMAZING and I am ever so thankful for that.
My sweet family was able to be together all day. Keith and Kyndal and Jaxon came up, Peyton and Carson brought 2 sweet little guys with them, and Larry, Sami, Grandma (Larry’s mom), and I hosted them.
It was a day unlike any other and for that I am extremely thankful.
I knew that there was a high probability that the day was going to get overwhelming for me.
I was anticipating high emotions for me. I haven’t done well with crowds for the last few years due to anxiety so I was worried that I would do well with that. I knew that we were going to have 3 kids under the age of 3 here as well and we all know how that could go.
But God!
God was faithful and answered prayers for the day.
No tears were shed. The babies all got along amazingly well. My kids were all in good moods. I remained calm throughout the day and was able to enjoy everyone. Conversations were good.
We shot fireworks and the babies all did great with them.
We had a fire to roast marshmallows and have some smores.
I could not have planned it any better had I tried.
Thank God that He planned it and He executed His plan and we didn’t get in His way.
My heart went into the day dreading and it came out of the day overflowing with a joy that can only be explained as God.
I love when God does His thing.
I love being able to share with others the testimonies that we have of how God has answered prayers, watched over us, allowed us to experience Him in a way that we can share with others.
The best part is when others see it too.
So today, July 5th, 2020, I am praising God for His faithfulness, His mercy and grace, and His love for us. am praising Him for everything!
I do not know all that much about my ancestry and to be frank, I truly do not care to. It would not change who I am anyway.
I do know this though:
July 3rd, 1952.
This date is an important date in my life.
July 4th, 2005.
Another important date in my life.
If it were not for the first date, I would not be here. You see, that is the day that my biological dad was born.
If it were not for the second date, I would not be typing this.
I did not have the privilege of being raised by him. I do not know the details as to why. I have heard stories but must take them with a grain of salt. I do not know what to believe and frankly I do not care. Again, if I knew why it would not change who I am.
I do know this. I did get to see my dad growing up. I do know that I loved going to his house and spending time with him. I know that cared for me greatly and treated me like a princess. Being his only daughter, I truly felt his love for me. Like an indescribable love that I have never felt since. One that I will never feel again.
You see July 4th, 2005, around 9:00 in the morning, the phone rang, and I answered it. It was my brother, Jeremy. I heard his voice simply say the words “He’s gone, daddy’s gone.” I remember screaming a scream I have never screamed before or since. One that I hope I will never do again. At that very instance my life came to a standstill. My mind was racing, what do you mean he’s gone? I just saw him. We just celebrated his 53rd birthday. He cannot be gone!! He just cannot be.
My.world.was.shattered.
Here I sit, July 3rd, 2020 missing my dad just as much as I missed him that day. I type this with tears in my eyes. They sting just as hard now as they did then.
I dread waking up in the morning. I dread the emotions that come with tomorrow. I struggle with July 4th just as hard today as I have the previous 14 years.
I try to put on a good front. I try to carry on like everything is fine. But it is not. It simply is not. I wish it were, but it is not.
I miss my dad. I miss him so freakin much. I miss his hugs. I miss the butterfly kisses. I miss everything about him.
I am so extremely thankful that he was a believer. That helps to dull the pain, but it does not take it away.
One day it will not hurt as bad. One day. However today is not that day.
Tomorrow, I have the privilege to be with my family. I have the privilege to hang out with Keith and Kyndal and Jaxon and meet her parents. I get to hang out with Peyton, Carson and 2 amazing little guys that Carson’s mom has custody of. I get to hang out with my mother in law, Larry, and Sami. Tomorrow, I get to watch as my family shoots fireworks and eats until their hearts content!
Life goes on, no matter how hard I want it to stand still.
Do not get me wrong, I love my life. I just miss my dad.
2020 has been such an insane year. I am praying that July 4th, 2020 will not be. I am praying that tomorrow remains calm, that nothing big happens, and that I make it through the day with no tears or crazy out of hand emotions.
Reset is defined as “to set again or differently”.
God has given me the word reset for this season, and I am extremely thankful for that.
I needed the reset for myself.
I have had time to sit back and relax. I have had time to do things that bring me joy and peace, that calm me. I’ve had time to color and craft and organize and catch up on things that needed to be caught up on. I have even had time to do a Bible study with a friend!
In this season of reset God has allowed my focus to be more on Him rather than the junk going on around me. He has allowed me to get some much-needed rest. In this season He has also allowed me to become surrounded by people who I otherwise would not have been surrounded by.
I must say that this season of reset has been good for my mind, spirit, and soul. This is the calmest I have been in years. These past few weeks have been good for so much! My prayer is that I don’t forget this season and what it has shown me, that I don’t forget the ways that I have experienced God and the ways that He has comforted me.
This is how 2020 has gone for me so far.
The first couple of months I was working my typical 3 days a week, carrying my youngest daughter to school, having our missional community on Tuesdays here at the house, staff meeting for the church on Thursdays, and church on Sundays. There were many things thrown in the midst of those days as well that made it feel as if I was always on the go. There were crises that had to be handled and things that would just pop up that had to be handled that moment. You know, the norm.
Then in mid-March things made a change. Schools closed. I no longer had to leave the house at 6:40am to drop her off. Then my job put protective measures in place to keep us and our clients safe, then we cut back on being at the center, then we had to close. Churches closed. It originally started as gatherings of 100 or more couldn’t happen, then no more than 50 could gather, then no more than 10, then no public gatherings period. This included our missional community as well.
You know what happened then? My schedule was no longer full. I went from being busy all the time to not busy at all. I no longer had a schedule to follow. I could sleep as late as I wanted. I could do whatever I wanted to around the house. I didn’t have to worry about being somewhere at a certain time.
And you know what I have learned during this time? I have learned to let God do His thing and stop trying to do my thing.
Just before all of this went down, I had received an email from David C. Cook books that included a free Bible study. I find it funny that the study was on Nehemiah. Why do I find it funny? Because God knew that I needed it during this time. He knew that this down time would allow me to connect with Him more and that this study would be exactly what I needed at exactly this time and that He would use it to keep me connected with an amazing friend and to grow me more as a leader.
You see, aside from Jesus, Nehemiah is my all-time favorite leader! He was an amazing prayer warrior first and foremost. He was a leader that looked to God first. He was always waiting on God. Nehemiah loved the Lord, and he knew that he was loved by the Lord. This allowed him to love his people and his land with the love of God. He was a servant leader, one that led the people by doing what they were doing and not just barking orders at them. He seemed to be kind and courageous, compassionate and obedient. He knew the calling that the Lord had placed on his life and was not afraid to do it.
I want to be a leader like Nehemiah. I want to lead like he led. I want to be a leader that prays first, waits on the Lord to direct my footsteps, and walks in obedience. I want to be a leader that doesn’t care what people say about me. One that remains obedient to the calling on my life no matter what. I want the boldness of Nehemiah.
A question that was posed at our youth group zoom this past Sunday as one that really got me thinking. You know how some of us say when I get to heaven, I’m going to ask so and so a particular question? Well the question that was posed to us was, if God were to ask you one question what would it be? For me it was why do you allow things not of Me to hold you back? Talk about a smack in the face! I’ve been pondering that question for the last several days. Why do I? Why do I let fear hold me back? Would I rather please man than the Lord? I want nothing more than to walk wholly and faithfully in my calling. I want nothing more than for God to look at me at the end of my time and say well done my good and faithful servant.
Again, I am very thankful for this time of reset. For this time to sit back and ponder on the things of the Lord. For this time to remember who I am in Him rather than what the world is telling me I am.
So, for whatever time we have left in this season of reset, I challenge you to sit back and ask the Lord what your calling is, how your supposed to walk it out.
We are headed into a season of a new norm. While we don’t know what that will look like, we do know that God is in charge. Remember this time that we have had to sit back and relax and get away from the busyness of this crazy world. My prayer is that we don’t go back to the old norm but create a new norm that is more focused on Christ than the world. One that is calmer, more peaceful.
I have never been so thankful for this season in life. I am thankful for this reset. I pray that it has been an amazing season for you all as well.
The word loss has several different meanings. For some of us, loss is as simple as losing our favorite pen or as big as losing a vehicle to a wreck. For others, loss is losing a job. Others, losing a limb in an accident. And yet for others, it is as hard as losing a parent, spouse, child, or friend.
To be frank, loss sucks!
Today is the second day of February 2020. And yesterday was the 2nd death that has affected my family this year. 1 week ago, Larry and I were in Princeton, Ky for the funeral for his best friend for more than 20 years. Yesterday, I got the call that my stepmom had passed away. Both of them were sick for a short period of time and both of them were labeled as “the sickest person” in their respective hospitals.
These deaths have affected us in different ways. Larry hasn’t lost many people in his life. This was his first long time friend he lost. It affected him differently than other deaths that have happened. I, on the other hand, have suffered from an unusually unfair amount of losses.
However, yesterday’s death hit me in a totally different way than others have. You see, I was blessed to have a number of parents in my life. 5 to be exact. Many of you may know that my mother passed away in April of 1977 following the birth of her 3rd child. I wasn’t raised by my biological dad however; I did have a great relationship with him. I went on to be raised by my great aunt and uncle. My biological dad passed away on July 4th, 2005, 1 day after his 53rd birthday. My great aunt passed away in October of 2010 following complications from a surgery and my great uncle passed away from old age in October of 2016. Yesterday, my stepmom passed away from a short battle with cancer.
Having multiple dads and moms, was cool in a sense, yet frustrating and hard at the same time. Cool, simply because it made my story different from others. Frustrating, well, because none of them got along. And hard because I have had to handle the death of 5 parents.
Other losses I have dealt with have been the same as you all, loss of friends due to loss of trust or moving or just drifting apart and loss of family members due to the same reasons. Some losses have been easy to deal with however, other losses have been extremely hard to deal with.
Loss due to death is hard to deal with but also easy to deal with at the same time. I say this because when it comes to death you know that you will never see that person again. There is no wondering. Loss due to moving is hard at the moment but you have the hope that you will eventually get to see that person again. To me, loss due to drifting apart is not as hard as loss due to losing trust. When it comes to drifting apart, its because of both parties have not put much effort into the relationship. When it comes loss of trust it is typically one-sided. I am the side that once trust is loss, I will cut you off. It is a defense mechanism for me. I have been hurt so much that I will not allow myself to be put in that position again to be hurt. God is working on me in this.
I have hurt people in the past because they have hurt me. Does that make it right? No, absolutely not. Unfortunately, this is a learned behavior. That doesn’t excuse it. It explains part of what makes me tick but doesn’t excuse it. What makes me sad is that I have inadvertently taught this behavior to my kids. I have taught them to treat other people like this.
I bring all of this up to share where I am in life at this moment. The month of February is a bittersweet month. 26 years ago on the 10th I gave birth to my first born, my baby boy. This year is the first time in 26 years that I will not be able to celebrate with him. And it breaks my heart in a way that I never thought would be possible.
He is a great kid. One that is loved dearly and that loves hard. He is one that would do anything for any of us but one that also suffers from mental illness, hard-heartedness, and is running as hard as he can from the calling that has been placed on his life. He is tough, he is fierce, and he is explosive. He has had to deal with some pretty intense situations, some major heartbreaks, and deaths that no 26-year-old should have to deal with.
When he moved out when he was 19 it was tough. He left in a way that was highly confusing for me. When he left, he had absolutely no contact with us from the moment he closed the door until 1 month later. The moment he walked out of the door I felt like my world was coming to a halt. Each day that went by my heart broke a little more and a little more. Then he called and all was good in the world again.
Fast forward a few years. Our relationship was still good. He needed to move home for a bit, and we welcomed it. Things were really great for a while. Then we had a few blowups and things would simmer down. Things would be good for a while. Things started getting a little intense but were still good. Then on the Monday following Easter of 2019, he came home from work angry, I mean really angry. He came in the door, didn’t say a word to us, packed what he could into the cab of his truck and left. The last thing he said to his dad was “you all will never hear from me again”.
And we haven’t.
Not.a.peep.
No Mother’s Day phone call or text.
No birthday call or text.
No thanksgiving call or text.
No Christmas call or text.
Nothing.
To say that I am hurting is to say the least. There is no description for the level of hurt that I, and the rest of the family, is feeling. There is no description for what is going on in my mind on the daily. There is no way to express the intense emotions that I am feeling as we approach his birthday.
I know that he is hurting. I know that hurting people hurt people. I know all of that crap. Knowing that doesn’t lessen the pain. It doesn’t make it easier. My heart longs to hear from him. My heart longs for him to return to the family. My heart longs for the moment that he returns to Christ. I can’t wait for him to finish writing this part of his testimony. My prayer is that we will hear from him, that he will come back to the family, and that he will return to Christ in my lifetime.
So, if you are reading this blog and feel so led, please pray for me and my family. Please pray for him.
Being a pastor’s family is tough. Satan likes to attack us. He likes to hit us where it hurts the most. We can’t make it without prayer. We know that the Lord hears our cries and knows our hearts. He knows what we need and when we need it.
If you are a congregant in a church, pray for your pastor and his family. They need it. For those who are already praying, don’t stop.
I simply cannot believe that it is 2020! It feels like just yesterday I was getting married and having my kiddos! Obviously that is not the case, considering that my husband and I will be celebrating our 27th anniversary this year and my oldest will be turning 26. Time has a tendency to fly by.
When I looked back at my blog I discovered that it had been an extremely long time since I had an entry. 5 months ago to be exact! What the heck?!?!?! So I caught myself racking my brain, trying to think of why it had been so long since I blogged. Well, life has been just a little crazy to say the least. About the time I thought I would have time to sit down and do it, something happened and I didn’t get it done. This is a vicious cycle that I am intending to break!
So here I sit, at my computer, with my fireplace and the National Championship Game on, typing away. Then it hits me. Fear and anxiety. Fear of what the reaction to my post will be or if there will even be a reaction. Anxiety of what to write about to draw in my readers. Of why people would even be interested in what a crazy, 46 year old, pastors wife, who is not known by anyone, would write.
I’m going out on a limb and praying that God will give me the right words for the audience that He is drawing to read it. Here goes!
So in my earlier blogs you may have read about my anxiety and depression and how I haven’t been enjoying life much over the past few years. At the beginning of 2019, God laid the word “loved” on my heart. That was the word that He gave me for 2019. I was skeptical. I remember thinking “yeah right, 2019 will be the year that I feel loved”. Then as the year went on I did feel loved, more and more as the year went on. I hadn’t felt that kind of love in a very long time. Not only did I feel loved but He also restored my joy! I finally felt joyful going to church and hanging out with people! I could finally enjoy worship at the church again! God had healed me from the junk that was holding me back! He healed me from the hurt I had experienced. He had shown Himself to me in a fresh, new way. I am forever thankful for Him giving me the word “loved” to hang on to. I definitely needed to feel that way to make it through the year.
Moment of honesty
I had a few times throughout the year when I did not feel loved, that I felt abandoned, that I felt hopeless. Those times were nothing compared to what I had just come out of.
But God, being God, knew exactly what I would be going through, when I would be going through it, and provided the right people, at the right time, with the right words, for me. And I am forever thankful for that!
The year was a whirlwind with lots of travel, births, deaths, and people leaving. It was also a year of catching up with old friends. It was a year of challenges, of change and of new things.
The best part about the year is that it was different. It was a year that God helped me to overcome those things that would normally trip me up. He helped me to embrace my place in my family, my church, my job, and my life in a way I never would have thought would be possible.
Looking back on 2019, the good outweighed the bad and for that I am extremely thankful.
I haven’t gotten my word for 2020 yet. God may not have a word for me to cling to and I’m ok with that. I don’t have to have a word to cling to because I have Him!
Not Your Typical Pastors Wife 