Connect with the PCA Women's Ministry:
FacebookInstagramEmail

Hope in Hindsight: Navigating Unexpected Journeys

KIM BARNES | CONTRIBUTOR Have you ever felt like your life was heading in a clear direction, only to have things take a sharp turn? Maybe you felt called to a new job or ministry, only to have it fall apart. Perhaps you envisioned your empty nest years filled with one thing, but reality brought something entirely different. A little over five years ago, my husband and I felt confident that God was calling us to a new place and ministry. It was a significant change, and there was trepidation as we embarked on this journey. However, the path seemed wide and clear, and we sensed God’s leading. So, we set off for my husband to pastor a church 800 miles away from Central Florida, where I had spent most of my life. We embraced our new home and hoped that we’d spend the next couple of decades serving this church and community that we quickly grew to love. That’s not what happened. My husband lost his job after two years. It was a gut-punch, and we were devastated. A path that initially seemed so welcoming, one that we thought would lead to joy and life-giving ministry, became a road filled with grief, betrayal, and despair. Along the way, we saw God’s hand at work, nevertheless it was a season where we questioned God’s calling on our lives and felt uncertainty about the future. Life wasn’t turning out the way I thought it would. The Bible is filled with stories where journeys lead to unexpected places...

Hope in Hindsight: Navigating Unexpected Journeys2024-07-26T14:16:29+00:00

Five Things I Learned From My Husband’s Life-Threatening Illness

LEAH FARISH|GUEST “Inoperable.” “Stage 4.”  “Radiation won’t help.” “Aggressive cancer.” These are things I was told about my husband Kent’s sudden, alarming condition two months ago. But I was also told important things from the Word of God. Since those are the things that apply to everyone, those are what I want to tell you. When we thought he had mere weeks to live, we sat together in awe as he sipped bone broth, the only thing he could stomach. He had started chemotherapy the very day he first saw an oncologist, who admitted him straight to the hospital. We murmured in disbelief to see my husband, a physician himself and a dynamo of energy, quickly declining to a wraith who couldn’t walk across the street. I started asking him his passwords, and hired a yard man. Calls and texts started to pour in to my phone with questions and offers of help. One thing we resolved to do was not to criticize or minimize any attempt to comfort or assist us.  I learned not to second-guess messages or gestures of concern, no matter how brilliant or clumsy. We agreed we would take everything that people brought to our situation, no matter how big or small, as straight from God’s hand. We had no desire to use what we thought were Kent’s last days in critiquing ways that others tried to express their love. Love doesn’t keep count of wrongs suffered, so if we had had expectations of what someone should do for us, we gladly dropped them. Since when one member of the Body hurts, we all hurt, maybe wisdom from the pain might come to us through another who was not technically suffering. Kent even started habitually opening his hands upward whenever someone would proffer a prayer or encouraging word. Soon we felt the surrounding cloud of loving support sent by the Body of Christ...

Five Things I Learned From My Husband’s Life-Threatening Illness2024-07-04T15:43:41+00:00

Four Reasons to Study Theology

JULIANNE ATKINSON |GUEST When I lived in Alaska, my friends and I went on several 30-mile treks. There was one trek where we hiked the first ten miles and went to sleep that night to expansive mountain views as far as the eye could see. We woke up the next morning after a cold night on a hard floor to a completely opaque cloud cover. We couldn’t see three feet in front of us. We wandered the Alaskan wilderness searching for trail cairns to take us to the next point on the bald faces of the mountainside. The rain wasn’t as much falling, as we were walking IN it. We decided to finish the hike a day early and with our soaked-through waterproof boots we traversed 20 miles through a wet cloud. We saw the boggy ground. We saw the great dark shapes slowly take form on the horizon as we went up and down, up and down, up and down. We bonded over trying to make sense of where we were on the elevation map. We felt joy in the accomplishment and relief when we made it to our cars and subsequently, pizza on the other side. We finished the journey, but we missed what we came to see. On the last weekend of the summer, we took on the Kesugi Ridge trail in Denali State Park. Denali, the famed highest peak in North America, is seen only 30% of the time. You never know how clear your weather will be, but there’s always the hope it will be clear enough to see. That weekend we hiked the first ten miles up Kesugi Ridge and set up camp opposing the crystal-clear Alaskan sunset over the snowy, awe-inspiring mountain towering over the entire Alaska Range in the distance. We hydrated our hot meals and couldn’t believe the glory of God revealed before our eyes. We could see what God had made and it turned our eyes and hearts to Him. In a similar way, when we don’t study theology, we might complete the journey we set out on. We might even love what we see of God through the misty ups and downs of life. But what we see on the clouded journey is nowhere near the satisfaction we COULD experience with the rich and beautiful full picture of who He is. So, what is it that we’re missing out on if we don’t pursue the study of theology?...

Four Reasons to Study Theology2024-05-09T18:57:11+00:00

Terribly Beautiful

LAURA PATTERSON | GUEST “Mom, why did I have a brain injury?” The dinner-table inquiry of my eight-year-old hit me like a ton of bricks. The heaviness wasn’t due to the novelty of the question but to its repetition. The ‘why’ has become a recurrent question for a child who is becoming increasingly aware of his differences. And the question is one that necessitates answers that come in deepening layers over the years. My son knows that he has cerebral palsy. He knows it was caused by damage to his brain. And he knows a developmentally appropriate medical explanation for what happened in my pregnancy and his earliest days of life. Yet his question still remains: why? The conversation around the dinner table labored on as my husband and I both grappled out loud, before our children, with what we know of the God in whom we profess faith. Of his sovereignty. Of His good purposes. Of the glory He can receive in all things. Answering Hard Questions Our ten-year-old, listening and processing from the seat to my left, interrupted, “…but why would God’s plan include something bad?” It’s easier to talk about suffering and disability when it isn’t sitting right next to me. But it’s another thing to apply what I know to be true in the very present reality of pain, tears, weariness, and grief. In that holy moment around the dinner table, the heart of what we could share with our three boys is that we really don’t know why God does all that He does. We don’t know why God has seen fit for life to include unending therapy appointments, specialist doctor visits, special education, surgery, orthotics, and the list could go on...

Terribly Beautiful2024-05-01T15:55:05+00:00

Moms: Trust God to Care For You

MARISSA BONDURANT | CONTRIBUTOR The world tells us that self-care is the key to living a balanced, happy, successful life. We are encouraged to take time for ourselves, to rest, and to care for our bodies. After all, if we aren’t caring for ourselves, then how can we care for others? There is wisdom in that, but the reality is that sometimes we have intense mothering seasons where our needs must take a back seat. Any mom who has had the flu, alongside the rest of the family knows this. Yet even in those seasons, when self-care isn’t possible, the gospel offers us tremendous hope and encouragement.   Let God and others care for you. Two of my girls have needed surgeries and a variety of procedures and tests to address serious medical issues.  I handed a daughter to an anesthesiologist almost 20 times in just five years. Each time we’ve gone through one of these ordeals, people reminded me to take care of myself. But, when you have a young child suffering, and only mommy can soothe her, taking care of yourself becomes impossible. In these seasons I’ve found encouragement in remembering how I was made.   In the Garden, the first thing God says that is not good about his creation is when Adam is alone (Gen. 2:18). We were made to be cared for by God and by others. It’s part of our good design. I’d argue that “self-care” is necessary, but not sufficient in meeting the very real, and very valid needs that we have as moms. Being cared for by others requires that we practice vulnerability. We must allow others to see us when we are weak and then allow them (and sometimes outright ask them) to help us. I’ve learned that even if we are nervous about burdening our friends, it is actually a joy for them to care for us. God wants to care for us too. His Word nourishes our souls like food nourishes our bodies (Jer. 15:16). He cares for us by convicting us of sin (John 16:8), comforting us when we’re hurting (2 Cor. 1:3-4), providing wisdom in abundance (James 1:5), and interceding when we need prayer (Rom. 8:26)...

Moms: Trust God to Care For You2024-05-01T15:51:28+00:00

On Suffering and Hope in Romans 5

EDEN FLORA | GUEST I vividly remember being 22, a new college graduate, and feeling very alone. I felt overwhelmed at the life that lay ahead of me. I wondered, how do I get from where I am to where I want to go? And where do I even want to go? Being 22 was rather scary, not at all like what Taylor Swift sings, “everything will be alright if we just keep dancing like we’re twenty-two.”  The next paragraph you will read is difficult. I always feel apologetic as I head into my story. I think because it’s shocking and people often find it difficult to know how to respond. In the last semester of my college career, my reality was turned upside down. My wonderful, kind, lovely, but not dainty mother died by suicide. Though she had struggled with mental illness for years, quite obviously, it completely changed my life.  When I think about my younger self, I long to comfort her and speak God’s truth to her. I was so scared. I couldn’t imagine anything other than that season. It felt so heavy and unmovable. I wish almost 40-year-old Eden could just sit with her and keep her company. In the months and years following, I just tried to get by. I had no clear goals, no solid plans, and not many ideas. It was painful and lonely. Gratefully, I knew God and felt His presence. I had people that cared about me. I had access to gifted therapists. But I couldn’t get past my sorrow, though I desperately felt like I should. I kept thinking that it was time for me to not be so sad. I think it was because I didn’t want to feel sad any more. I was afraid I would remain in that place forever. I remember reading Romans 5:3-5: “...we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” I didn’t understand how I could rejoice in my suffering...

On Suffering and Hope in Romans 52024-04-09T20:51:36+00:00

The Body of Christ Makes All the Difference

SHARON ROCKWELL | CONTRIBUTOR My friend was not handling life very well. Emotions overwhelmed her as she felt the disappointment and pain of an adult child who was making bad choices, grief for a parent in hospice, and the sting of anger when relatives inappropriately demanded a share of the inheritance. She was already battling cancer, exhausted from chemotherapy and frustrated that she could not deal with all that was on her plate. Darkness invaded her world more than was visible to the eye. She had Christian friends at church who were praying for her. She had good-intentioned family members always ready with words of advice. And she had plenty of books and podcast lectures on dealing with her specific issues. But it was a wise, older Christian woman who encouraged her and imparted truth without judgement that changed everything. This woman met with my friend twice a week for months. She told me the main premise of their discussions was that the only thing you can control is yourself. My friend kept a diary of their Bible searches for God’s truth about her life versus her own self-deception. Here are a few of the key take-aways that she recounted put her back on a healthy path. She learned to guard her heart. Proverbs 4:23 says “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it. Guarding your heart means choosing godly thoughts (Col. 3:2; Phil. 4:8) as well as seeking wisdom and guidance from God. My friend had spent months in anger, self-pity, and dwelling on how life is unfair. She had raised her children with Christian values, only to watch a prodigal flaunt an ungodly lifestyle in her face. Why? She had always taken care of her body—good food and exercise—only to face a cancer diagnosis. Why? Betrayal had fractured her family over money issues. Why? It was a while before my friend would admit that her heart was bitter. Only she could control her thoughts, choosing godly thoughts over the evil that plagued her to the point of giving up on life. But once this realization became clear, it was a turning point...

The Body of Christ Makes All the Difference2024-03-19T13:29:44+00:00

Jesus Loves Me, This I Know

STEPHANIE HUBACH | CONTRIBUTOR Does the Guinness Book of World Records have a category for “longest period of time for keeping the same item magnetized to a refrigerator?” I sincerely doubt it. However, since the first all-steel home refrigerator was introduced by General Electric in 1929, that’s only a 95-year record to contend with. So, I’d say I’m doing pretty well. My magnetized item is actually a piece of newsprint (stuck in a magnetic frame), that says in large letters, “Jesus Loves Me, This I Know.” It’s been on my various refrigerators for 32 years. How do I know the exact amount of time? I know because my son Tim, who has Down syndrome, was born 32 years ago. 32 Years Ago—Jesus Loves Me, This I Know: My Sheer Act of Faith Five days after New Year’s Day of 1992, I gave birth to my second son. That evening, I heard the words that changed my family’s life forever. “We believe your son has a chromosomal abnormality.” As it turns out, a little piece of extra genetic material can influence a whole host of changes in a human body. Some of those changes create authentic challenges (to the point of being life-threatening, such as severe cardiac conditions). Some of those changes bring forth wonderful qualities in a “super-abundance” not as fully experienced by those of us with a typical collection of 46 chromosomes. In those early days, my heart was understandably caught up with the former: the weight of the authentic challenges and the practical nature of addressing those difficulties. By choice, we did not know in advance that Tim had Down syndrome. (That’s a conversation for another day.) Nor did we know that he would have a tumultuous ride of health issues in his first year, culminating in open heart surgery at seven months old. The tsunami of new responsibilities in terms of medical care and therapies, accompanied by grief at the loss of my expectations for what I thought Tim’s life (and ours) would look like, made our infant and toddler days with our oldest son, Freddy, feel other-worldly. Sometime, early in this journey, is when the newspaper clipping became attached to my refrigerator. “Jesus Loves Me, This I Know.” Christmas vacation occurred the weeks just prior to Tim’s birth. We were all home together, as my husband had time off from work. And I specifically remember intentionally enjoying that time with Freddy—knowing (but not how much) it would change soon, with the addition of a new baby. I also distinctly recall singing a particular song with him—one that I remember God bringing to mind (from my own childhood) during that time. It was this: There is a name I love to hear I love to sing its worth It sounds like music in my ear The sweetest name on earth O how I love Jesus O how I love Jesus O how I love Jesus Because he first loved me...

Jesus Loves Me, This I Know2024-03-05T17:52:13+00:00

He Knows Our Every Trouble

CLAIRE STREBECK | GUEST Christ identifies with all our weaknesses.  Christ understands our every sorrow. Do you weep? Do you mourn? If there were one characteristic that marked Jesus' earthly ministry, it would be compassion. Over and over, he was moved with deep pity for those weeping, especially those who were disadvantaged: the widow from Nain; Mary at the death of Lazarus; the sinner-woman who wailed as she washed Christ's feet with her expensive perfume and her tears.  Yet, it was not only their circumstances that provoked Jesus' emotion. Certainly, any of their conditions could have been sufficient to prompt anyone to sympathy. Still, with Jesus, each emotional response included more than mere circumstantial pity. Every time Christ was moved in his emotions, it was in response to the battle he waged with death.  Jesus’ Emotional Response to Our Fallen World When Christ saw Mary and the other Jews weeping over Lazarus' death, he felt more than sorrow. John 11:33 tells us that He was "deeply moved." I was surprised to discover that the text signifies more than Jesus' sadness and sympathy–John also communicates Jesus' rage. The original Greek word used is embrimaomai, which literally translates to "being very angry or moved with indignation." Was Christ angry at Mary or those with her? Was he angry over their grief? Absolutely not. In fact, we see that he was stirred in response to their mourning, with his own shedding of tears only two verses later. It was death itself that prompted our Lord to anger. ...

He Knows Our Every Trouble2024-03-05T18:10:48+00:00

The Beautiful Burden of Caregiving

KATIE POLSKI | CONTRIBUTOR While in my early thirties, my mom was diagnosed with a debilitating brain disease. I was told by the doctor that she would lose every ability “from her head to her toes.” Within months of the diagnosis, mom lost the ability to form words. Shouts, groans, and tears became her agonizing way of communicating. Not long after, she lost the use of her legs and hands. My father passed away years before mom’s diagnosis, and since I was the only sibling who lived in the same town, I quit my job and assumed the role as primary caretaker. She lived for two years after the diagnosis, so between caring for my young children and keeping up with life’s ongoing demands, caring for mom often felt burdensome. As I’ve watched friends face the inevitable challenges that accompany aging or ill parents, it’s become clear that my sentiment was not unique. But what I discovered amid the challenging journey, by the grace of God, is that the burdensome call of caregiving is also one that is profoundly and incomparably beautiful. The Burdensome Exhortation Scripture makes abundantly clear that we are to honor our parents (Deut. 5:16; Ex. 20:12; Eph. 6:2). Though short, these verses are layered with meaning, and it is easy to apply them in the way we see fit. It’s important, however, to take care to not interpret these words from God based on our own feelings or agendas. The Pharisees did this, and Jesus rebuked them (Matt. 15:3-6). For us to obey this command, trust in God’s perfect Word is required. There are times when honoring parents is confusing, challenging, and difficult. And while honoring may look different from one situation to the next, there are no caveats given with these verses, though we sometimes wish there were. One of the many ways we honor our parents is by caring for them in their time of need, and not because of what they have or have not done for us, but because sacrificial love has been demonstrated for us in the gospel...

The Beautiful Burden of Caregiving2024-01-21T14:50:48+00:00
Go to Top