Fear

Fear has been on my mind a lot of late. As of this coming Sunday night, Norm will no longer be employed. He will be a full time business owner with several employees and still have a family to support. It has always been his dream to take his ideas and with God’s help make a difference in the world. As exciting as this is, fear has been on both of our minds. Will the business work? Will we be able to afford our insurance? Can we pay our bills? With the unknown looming before us, fear seems to be on the fringe of all of my thoughts.

Today, I put my youngest daughter on a plane with a man I have never met. And I was afraid. Veronika is a burn survivor—she was burned as small child before we adopted her. She is a pretty courageous kid—she has faced numerous surgeries, hours of therapy, and months of healing. And she has spent a week of every summer for the past 6 years at Camp David. Camp David is a special place—a camp for burn survivors and their siblings. Burns are a horrible injury. It is rarely a once and heal type of thing. As the child grows, her scars do not always grow with skin and most burn survivors face years of reconstruction surgeries and then have to relearn how to move the injured area over and over again. Camp David is a place where all of the kids really get each other. They know the challenges, frustrations, and triumphs. And amazing men and woman volunteer their time to build these kids up. Many of them firefighters. Fire fighters are a rare breed—where most of run in fear, they stand and face terror and save the helpless.

I put my daughter on a plane with a firefighter. He was chosen, like Veronika because they both have faced fears, overcome, and shared immense compassion for helping others. They were chosen out of all the staff and campers at Camp David to go to Washington DC for a week as guest of the International Association for Fire Fighters and tour and experience all that our nation’s capital has to offer along with 50 other survivors and fire fighters. I am proud and happy that Veronika was chosen but I have never sent one of my kids on a plane that young, that far away from me, and not knowing a single soul that she would be with. I was afraid.

In the weeks working up to today, I had talked to our firefighter friend several times, confirming details and trying to get a feel for who he was and abate my fear. Veronika wasn’t afraid. She has seen her firefighter at camp nearly every year as he comes out and helps the kids go fishing and do carnival night. She knows him and is comfortable with him.

We waited for his flight to arrive from Austin and he came out of security and met us. We had to check Veronika in for her flight and work at changing their seats so they could sit together. He was wearing a t-shirt from his fire house—a memorial shirt to never forget 9/11 and he brought an extra one for each of my girls. While we were standing in the airport checking in, more than one person noticed him as a firefighter and thanked him for his service. I felt my fear begin to dissipate. Then, just before I was to say good-bye to my girl, I asked if he minded if we prayed for their trip. So in the airport lobby, we prayed and after the prayer, he told me he was a Christian. His daughter has attended camps at the Christian University my other daughter attended.

I knew this was a once in a lifetime chance for Veronika to go on this trip. But my heart struggled with the fear of sending my child away with someone I don’t know and to a place where we cannot be with her. And God sent a Christian to escort her. He took my fear and God said ‘I have her protected and I have sent a protector.’

I don’t know what tomorrow holds. I am confident in my God. I am confident in my husband and his ability to run a business. And I am confident that my daughter is loved by a Holy God even more than I can comprehend and that she rests in His care. And I will not be afraid.

The Lord is my light and my salvation—
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life—
of whom shall I be afraid?

When the wicked advance against me
to devour me,
it is my enemies and my foes
who will stumble and fall. Though an army besiege me,
my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me,
even then I will be confident.

~Psalm 27

Homecoming and Chrysanthemums

 

Homecoming and Chrysanthemums

I have to admit that homecoming to me conjures images of warm sweaters, thick lap blankets, and warm boots.  Growing up in Alaska, we didn’t do ‘Friday Night Lights’ the way they do it Texas.

And a mum to me was always short for Chrysanthemum…a pretty yet humble flower but when compared to roses and lilacs and other complex flowers that are able to combine delicate beauty with intoxicating scents, it comes up lacking.  A ‘mum’ is sort of boring—simplistic, it reminds me of a daisy and its’ fragrance fleeting and only gratifying to the sniffer that seeks and concentrates to discern its’ aroma.  But in the hands of a Texan school student, a mum is a gigantic display that in no way resembles that from which the term originates.

Where the Mum of traditional homecoming is overly large and ostentatious, the dress that traditionally accompanies it is as diminutive as the actual flower.  Homecoming signals the shortest dresses wearable--prom dresses surpass in surplus the length of dress required.  Christian girls that manage every aspect of their life in a Christ-like fashion toss their values to the wind and wear a dress to this event that barely covers their behind.  Is this a Texas thing or a southern tradition?  I am not sure.

Texas girls, Southern girls, Moms and Dads—don’t cave to the homecoming culture that calls for your Godly and gorgeous daughter to clad herself in a skirt that barely covers her rear.  She is so much more than the length of her skirt!  Wear a dress that says: I don’t need to show you everything about me to be valuable.  Wear a dress that says “Jesus could sit right next to me tonight and He would say I am stunning!”  Wear a dress that says, I don’t have to be sexy at 14 to have self-worth because my value comes from One who sees my heart and soul.

Growing up in Alaska, I may not understand the Texan culture of short homecoming dresses.  As a homeschool mom, I may not see the need for a mum to be more lengthy than the skirt of its bearer.  But as an observer from the outside, you sweet girl are so much more than the length of your skirt.  Stand up and stand out.  When you decide how you dress, be a rose or a lilac—beauty with depth, fragrance, and confidence that comes from within.  The Mum is simple and its fragrance is fleeting, don’t settle for the bare minimum.