When Sacrifice Means Letting Go, Not Giving Up

I can't recall when I actually started participating in the observation of Lent, and to be honest I don't believe that I was actually active in any church at the time. But somewhere along the road I did, and I shared the activity with my children. But as the years have passed, it gets harder to find something that is truly a sacrifice to give up or you just end up repeating what you have done a year or two before and it just really doesn't have the same meaning. Especially when I did get involved in a church, and did truly understand the true sacrifice Jesus Christ paid for me. It was then that giving up coffee, chocolate or even Facebook just didn't seem as worthy. Please don't think that I believe doing any of these things is unworthy, I just am feeling led in a new direction. And until just last year, I did each of these things I have mentioned, and I am hopeful that God smiled down on my attempts. However, it has been the past couple years where I have changed my focus and am following a new approach to this time of year. 

I started trying to give more of my time to the Lord, for example; by reading more of His word. Spending real time attempting to study and understand this wonderful letter of love He has given to us.  I also wanted to be giving more of my time and making efforts to be truly kind to others, to go beyond the surface and perhaps look for someone who is in emotional or spiritual need. I didn't fail miserably last year, but I knew I could do better. This year I wanted and needed to do better, my heart was aching for change. 

It was just one day into the Lenten season when I wrote my last entry. What a change nearly 28 days has been and where God is leading my heart. This year is not so much the number of who's I might be able to reach out to but a singular who that I really need to be doing just that to, and more. I have often spoke of my dysfunctional upbringing and that left me with a lot of unwanted and ultimately damaged baggage. Some of that baggage can be left along the way, some of it is still necessary and you merely have to repair it and continue carrying it along life's path. Some relationships are just that sort of baggage. You can set them down and walk away at a moment when you feel it is the best thing to do, the healthy thing to do. And in most cases, that's where it all ends. You move forward a little lighter than before, experienced, but life goes on. I have recently discovered though, that I may have tried to discard one of those pieces that merely just needed/needs repair.

Please don't think I'm cold and heartless for calling a relationship, a person,  a piece of baggage. But I believe a tangible object is sometimes necessary when trying to understand certain types of relationships, and how they function (or sometimes, not function). There are a good number of people in my life I have had to walk away from,  just like leaving behind a piece of unwanted baggage or box of unwanted things. Most of those time, what was left behind needs to be just that, left behind. God gives us the strength to move forward and leads us to places where new relationships can be formed and sometimes those new relationships can ease the pain from the past, allowing the healing process to begin. On occasion you not only miss that familiar and tattered bag, but you realize it also contains something you need, perhaps you thought it was lost and then realized not at all, it's just back there in that place you walked away from. 

As I mentioned, I was the one who walked away, closed the door, severed the ties in the relationship with my mom. It was what I truly believed to be in the best interest of all involved at the time, and looking back I would still do the same thing. In that moment, it was the only sane and safe choice I knew how to make. It was the second hardest choice I have made to date, in my life. I am learning that even a choice made partially out of anger, but mostly from fear and uncertainty, can be changed. I have learned that time may not heal all wounds, but that God heals all hearts, if we let Him. I learned that life is too short to still be angry about things that can't be changed and most often occurred out of our personal control. I have learned, that there are moments in life, moments meant to be shared by everyone and we can't let ourselves be blinded by the ugliness of emotions that only the Evil one is responsible for placing in our line of sight.

I'm hoping that I didn't realize this all too late, that I didn't blow the chance to be able to duct tape the heck out of a bag that I helped to kick around, contributing to it arriving in the battered condition it is in. That my gestures are perceived as true and hopeful, perhaps even hope-filled. My wish would be that we can move forward, without looking back. Acknowledge things yes, but to not dwell on that beat up and battered bag that represents a handful of moments in time. To know that we still want to have it around, to repair it so that we can add new memories to store inside it. Possibly even replacing the ones that may have been missed. But knowing (and praising the fact) that God loves us just as we are, after all He made us; in His likeness for that matter. We can't be all that bad, even at our worse, especially if we truly know Him and believe in Him, and trust in what His Son did for us on the cross.

Sacrifice. True Sacrifice. Christ didn't give up. Yes, He did ask for a different path, a different cup. But then, He said, "Thy will, not mine" and then He let go, let go of this life on earth, and  in doing so, taking on all our pain and suffering; most often self inflicted by the sinful nature of who we are as mere humans. He just did, He bore our sins, the ultimate sacrifice. The spotless and perfect lamb, dying for us. Even His last words, "Father, forgive them". How do we deserve that, how do I deserve that? I hope that on that day when I meet Him face to face, I am not so overwhelmed by the glory of it all that I fail to say Thank You Lord, I didn't deserve it. Thank you for your sacrifice and forgiveness. Thank you for teaching me, guiding me to do the same, forgive.

Ephesians 4:31-31 Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ, God forgave you.

A post Valentines thought...

Isn't it funny how one certain voice, or a simple sentence can turn a seemingly ordinary day, upside down?  Can take you from joyful to despair in mere seconds? I received a phone call last night that sent me into a just such a situation. After a quiet and somewhat uneventful Valentine's day, I couldn't imagine it ending on such a chaotic and heart-breaking note. Yet, it most certainly did.

Actually, there were two calls, the first coming earlier in the evening, but I didn't answer because It had been such a long time since I spoke with this person, that I didn't know where to expect the conversation to go. My youngest was still up and I didn't want to spoil her day or upset her. A phone call with this person can get quiet emotional and my scars are deep, not to mention there was a fresh wound I was still trying to heal. So I waited, and after I tucked my daughter in and we said our prayers, with some hesitation I called my mother back.

The call started simply enough with a thank you for my gesture. I had sent a New Years Card (LATE) (mind you this one along with three or four others got buried on the mass of papers on my table-top.) with wonderful pics of my family from this summer's wedding. I thought it would be a nice Valentines card as well. However, I was reminded that the wedding was months ago and they certainly would have liked to seen pictures sooner. I apologized, but really didn't know how to express the disappointment I felt because she and my stepfather had been invited the the wedding and that they had chosen not to come. My mother then shared with me a piece of unrelated and wonderful news, well, it should have been wonderful. However it was tainted with the fact that the original news had been omitted.

It was in this moment that my mother told me she was cancer free. Cancer Free!  And had been so for just over a year. I immediately felt sick to my stomach, the tears came uncontrollably because I was just now learning that my mom had cancer! Praise God, she was healed and healthy and doing well, but she had been diagnosed with cancer and this was the first moment she thought about giving me this information. I asked her, why she hadn't told me before. She said she knew I had a lot going on, with Carrie having been so ill and then the wedding, she didn't want to bother me with it. She explained that she had her first surgery just after the wedding, and in my head it made sense why they had not been there. I even said, so that makes sense why you didn't come to the wedding. I was quickly informed that that was not the reason, they felt they received the invite late, that they were an afterthought and that we really didn't want them there. Another crushing blow! I reminded her that Carrie had been ill, and that all the invites were sent later than planned. But that we sent it because we realized life is too short and that all of our family should be a part of this wonderful day. 

Keep in mind, this is a part of the dysfunctional family I grew up in. I also have to reveal that a little over two years ago, because of a volatile phone conversation, I severed all ties and stopped communicating with my mom, asking her to respect my wishes as our relationship was just too toxic and unhealthy, not only for myself but for my children as well.  And she did, she has sent cards at Christmas and birthdays (which we did not respond to, right or wrong), but she respected my wishes and things hurt a lot less because no one was disappointed by broken promises or wishful thinking. Old wounds began to heal, instead of salt being poured into them over and over again. Maybe I was being an overprotective mother, but I was not about to allow that old dysfunctional cycle to creep its way back into our existence. It was not going to happen. 

So for the next hour, through 3 mirrored conversations, we hashed and rehashed what has been going on between us. I tried to answer her questions, I don't know that she really truly heard me. I don't think anything was ever really answered, let alone resolved; a part of me doesn't know if it ever will. She thinks I blame her for all of our differences. I repeatedly told her I do not blame her, that I have made the choices I have made, both good and bad, on my own, for myself and my children. Without it being too hurtful, I tried to explain that most of often, our visits or time spent together are toxic, that I actually become physically ill after spending time together because it is generally spent arguing or pretending everything is OK. I grew up hiding my feelings, hiding all the ugliness and dysfunction. It made me ill then and it is something I will no longer do. I can't. So, for my health and sanity and that of my children, I have chosen the path I am on.  A path that separates us from what is more often than not. From what is not patient,  but is sometimes unkind, not humble, is often hopeless, and can be untruthful and not endearing. Instead that path is something that is only hurtful, angry, toxic and unforgiving.  

I know the God who breathed the words of 1 Corinthians 13 wants those words to be truth for the both of us, and that hopefully we can find the truth of those words, together. Verse 13 states: 
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

For me, I will cling to the hope and hold firm to my faith that God's love will indeed save us all. I pray for my family, for my distanced family. That we might find God's love, and the greatness of its power to heal all things, to bring peace and comfort to a place where it has never really been known. To have victory over the darkness that once was our lives. To shine like the Son.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no records of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves.

Breaking the Cycle - Out of the Darkness into His Light

I was talking with my oldest daughter this evening, she was writing a paper about drugs and alcohol and the behaviors that are often acted upon or associated with in such situations. She asked me a few questions about my own past, my abusive childhood, including the circumstances that most certainly led up to my own battle with addiction. I have to smile because as she would ask me a question, she would immediately say she was sorry and that I didn't have to answer if I didn't want to, if it was too hard. I told her it was OK, that it didn't bother me any more, to talk about it that is. In fact I want to talk about it, whenever someone asks, because if I can tell my story and help someone, even just one person, then I have done the right thing. 

In recent years as I have watched my oldest children continue to move forward in their lives, and doing so in a good and positive manner. I am pleased to see them excelling at school, activities, and at life itself, I am blessed to know that with God, change has finally occurred. The cycle has been broken. Even before I trusted my daily life to God, the one thing I always told myself is that I would not raise my children in the manner in which I was raised, that I would give them different, and hopefully better. I am here to tell you that until I asked for God's daily guidance I was not doing a very good job of what I professed my parenting goal to be. But I can also tell you that I tried.

I understand now that it is hard to give better, when you don't believe you deserve better. My self worth was in the toilet and as I continued bad habits and a sometimes harmful lifestyle I was doing nothing but running around in circles; occasionally falling on my butt and at the worst of times into the darkness of some proverbial pit. I kept replaying the same old scenario over and over again like a broken record.  They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result. I lived in such insanity, you could even say I was it's queen. 

During all that craziness, I remembered God, but I had never understood that I could depend on Him, ask Him for help, guidance, comfort, any of that. The God I thought I knew let horrific things happen to me, He couldn't possibly care about me if He had allowed my life to have been what it was to that point. I would eventually learn and understand that He was there through it all, protecting me from much worse. He kept me alive, even though I thought I could never amount to anything, He had bigger plans for me. I often state when I share my testimony; my story, that I should have been dead on more than one occasion because of my reckless actions and behavior. Yet, here I am, alive and well and raising a family, on my own but with a strength I could not have ever imagined myself having. God is pretty awesome that way. Here I was, this angry, bitter woman, a single mom, who He still wanted to use for something bigger than myself.

My three oldest children were 5, 7 and 8 when I discovered I was pregnant with my youngest child. I cried, sat there in the doctors office and wept. I had no clue what I was going to do, I was barely able to raise the three children I had, how on earth was I going to raise four! This pregnancy had occurred due to what would be my last drinking binge, 4 days of "partying" that included a one night stand. I knew abortion was not an option for me, but I was so unsure. So I contemplated adoption, He had other plans. I started having some complications and ended up having to cut back at work which gave me more time at home, more time to think, and listen to the wee small voice of God.

As those of you who know me know, I have four beautiful children and can't imagine my life, our lives without my youngest daughter. It was still rough, but by this time God and I were finally on better terms and I started looking to Him more and more. Even though I wasn't actively drinking,I was a mess and what people in 12-Step circles call a "dry drunk". I was miserable and made everyone around me the same. I was still in nursing, and earned a supervisor position on the graveyard shift. My disrupted sleep pattern didn't help my mental state and I lived in a very dark place for a long time. I severely injured my back and fell into a deeper depression. God still had better plans for me.

On Jan 10, 2004 I walked into my first AA meeting, spoke those ever faithful words, "Hi, my name is Laurie and I am an alcoholic". That truly was the first day of the rest of my life. On that night, finally, my life started to change. I did more than the 90 meetings in 90 days that is recommended as I became intoxicated over how I felt when I was in those rooms. I finally found a place where I fit in, where I wasn't the outcast; somewhere I actually belonged. A place I could just be myself, no masks, no make believe. It's hard for me to remember if it was before or just after my 90 day mark, but I knew I needed more than what the meetings were doing for me, so I looked into treatment. I knew I couldn't bare the thought of being away from my kids for 30 days, let alone who would have cared for them. So I enrolled in an Out-Patient program that would end up lasting 15 months. It was through treatment and a counselor I almost asked to be replaced that I started healing. It was through treatment that I realized how much I needed God, wanted God and when I started making room for Him in my daily life.

It was also in those last couple months of treatment that God led me to my church family. I don't know if I will ever be able to truly express what so many of these people really mean to me. From the moment I walked in to their church with my four kids, they showed unconditional love. Through trials they supported and encouraged, and just loved me. Something I was not at all accustomed to. They invited me in, to be a part of something different, something bigger than anything I had ever been a part of before. They celebrated with me, cried with me and helped me to continue raising my children, always showing such Christ-like love and understanding. They gave me a place to fit in, to be involved. Today my family's schedule often revolves around activities at our church. 

All of my children have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and that is truly one of the biggest accomplishments I want know as their parent. That I led them to Him, that I taught them, with the help of others, through God Himself; the seeds were not only planted but fed and watered and encouraged to grow. One of my most favorite things is when we are all in the van together and listening to Christian radio and we can all sing, I mean really SING together, just praising our Lord with song. Sometimes when we are in church it gives me goose bumps and often causes tears to swell up in my eyes, as I hear their voices really speaking the words that they know to be true. To see His light in each of my children by their actions and deeds, is another wonderful blessing.

So yes, the cycle has been broken. The pain is over, it has ended, it is finished. It is all of those things and more, because He took it from me, He bore my pain; both self-inflicted and not. He bore it all on the cross, all those years ago. And then He died and rose again that we might know peace, the kind of peace we will only find in eternity with Him. I used to read Job a lot, as I struggled and felt like God kept throwing all the crappy stuff my way. And I hope like Job, that even through the trials, even through the things that make me ask "What are you trying to teach me now Lord" that I never again loose faith. That I trust, that I believe just as it says in His word, "I can do all things".

Job 42:2  I know that you can do all things, no plan of yours can be thwarted.

Philippians 4:13 I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.

Narrow Path

I wrote this a few years ago, I was really struggling but I wanted God to know that I wasn't going to give up. I would trust, I would have faith. Because it was by this time He had really shown me what a loving and caring God He truly was. I couldn't go back to any of my old ways of being or thinking for that matter.

It sat in a notebook for a very long time and then somewhere along the way, it evolved from a poem to a song that I would just lift up to Him at times of trial and misunderstanding. I needed Him to hear my heart, so I gave Him this psalm, my gift of faith and trust to Him.

Two or three years ago, with the help of a very talented young woman, it finally had music to go with it. I still remember the first time she played the accompaniment, I was shocked, in utter disbelief! Even though I never knew what the music was supposed to sound like, when she played it; I knew it was what the music was supposed to sound like. It was perfect! We soon shared it one morning at church and it was such a wonderful feeling to lift praises to Him and share it with other believers, especially my very own church family.

Tonight, as the election winds to an end, and after seeing what seems to be inevitable - reading so many post on facebook about how its all over and we are basically (pardon me) screwed... I just felt a sense of sadness. A quiet sadness that I used to get and is a lot of what stirred me to write this poem, this psalm.

For those of us who are God fearing - know the end of the story, Christians; what's wrong with us?
Myself included, I can get caught up in all the ugly the next four years most likely will hold, but I would rather get caught up in what comes after that, or during it for that matter. I would rather set might eyes on what His Word tells me to be true, He knows the end of the story. He knew the outcome of this story before a single vote was cast. Remember, it is HIStory. He holds it all in His mighty hands. He holds us all in those same mighty, yet loving hands. I have faith and trust in that. I will praise Him for that, until He takes me home.



I will praise You in the morning,
As the sun reaches across the sky.
I will praise You in the evening,
As the stars fill that same sky.
I will praise You - down on my knees.
I will praise You standing tall.
You are King of Kings,
You are Lord of Lords,
You are Jesus, my One in All.

And you saved my soul, Oh Jesus.
You are the only way.
And you healed my heart, Oh Jesus.
And this is where I want to stay.
Right beside You, on this narrow path.
That You made for me.

I will praise You in my sorrow time,
When darkness closes in.
I will praise You when I'm happy Lord,
Yes I will praise You with this song that I sing.
I will praise You till the end of time.
Yes, I will praise until eternity.
You are King of Kings,
You are Lord of Lords,
Here I am, have all of me.

And you saved my soul, Oh Jesus.
You are the only way.
And you healed my heart, Oh Jesus.
And this is where I want to stay.
Right beside You, on this narrow path.
That You made for me.

The road may be long,
The path makes me weary,
But still I will stay.
Though I seem alone,
I know You are with me,
You are guiding my way

And you saved my soul, Oh Jesus.
You are the only way.
And you healed my heart, Oh Jesus.
And this is where I want to stay.
Right beside You, on this narrow path.
Right beside You, on this narrow path.
That You made, for me.

16 Candles

The above title is oddly deceiving, because it actually represents what has not been seen. 

16 birthday cakes (times 3) 16 jack-o-lanterns (give or take) 16 Christmas trees. 
16 New Years Eves, staying up just late enough to utter those infamous words and bring in another new year that doesn't include you. More than 16 dozen valentines for a house filled with 3 little broken hearts. 
16 Easters and the only thing holding be together is that it didn't take God 16 days to raise His Son from the grave. 16 last days of school, followed by 16 summers of not camping because it hurts too much to be in that environment without you. 16 Fourth of Julys that I push myself through for my kids, because its still exciting and fun for them. It only reminds me of times with you that are no more, causing much more than 16 minutes of tears.

Now lets look at the smaller numbers.
3 talented athletes, with numerous achievements
3 talented musicians, again more accolades
1 Graduation, another on the horizon. And yet another to follow close behind.
1 Wedding, where you should have been the one at her side. 

And for nearly the first time in 16 years, I am angry at you. Truly angry, because your absence has caused so much silent anger and pain. So much turmoil, regret. Tonight I am once again reminded of 16 years of choices I have been  forced to make on my own, with more than 16 bad choices being made, I'm sure.  16 years of wondering why?

16,000 times I cried myself to sleep because I missed you so much my heart didn't just ache, it felt like it was closing in on itself and I could barley breathe. 16,000 times I wanted everything to just stop, all the noise, the pain, everything. 
16,001 times I found the strength to keep going, to move forward and live my life for and with my children. 16,001 times God remind me He is my husband, my lover and the Father of my children. 16,001 times I felt a sense of comfort I know is only found through Him and His Spirit being a part of me.

Im done counting candles for you, and I can't even stay angry for too long. All this - all 16 years of this, is a part of God's plan for me; already written and He knows where he is leading me, where He needs me to be, and He will take me there step by step. 

I have trust and faith in that.

Psalm 139:16 All the days ordained for me, were written in your book, before one of them came to be.

I Know Your Face

It has been months, seems like forever really since I have written. Every time I thought about it, had the desire to write, I was pulled away by someone or something; weather it be the kids, work, or my own sheer laziness - I just didn't allow myself to sit down and write. I did not allow myself opportunity to let the words escape from my brain and fall onto the keyboard and be transformed into the thoughts you now read on this page. Allowing for there to be a build-up of clutter and wandering thoughts with in the walls of my mind. There has been so much to write about these past few months and God has taught me some big and valuable lessons this summer - in fact He still is; and it is the most current of lessons that leads me to write tonight. 


We often say we know someone, know who they really are. But do we? Just what is it that we think we really know? Is anyone truly capable of knowing someone the way I believe only God does know us? As parents we hope we know our children, I hope and think that I do; but do I? Do I know what I want to know or see? Or do I merely know what they want me to know or see? What do their friends see when they look at them? What do their parents see when they watch, as they make choices both good and bad in their lives? What do they see in us? Especially when the choices are more on the bad side of things. The kind of choices that bring pain and suffering to those around them. Do they see a good kid making a bad choice? Or do they see a bad kid? How do they see us as parents? Do they think we didn't try hard enough, lacked authority, or just lost control? Or worse yet, just don't care? What do they see? Do they think they know us?


As I have shared many times before, I grew up in a very dysfunctional household and when all hell broke loose and everything hit the fan - I often wondered what people really thought? What did they say within the walls of their homes, behind the closed front door. Did they talk about thinking they knew me? Or my family for that matter? Did they try to solve the destruction that had become our lives? I doubt it, and from what my own mind allows me to recall, not too many people said much of anything. There were instead the occasional whispers, but most often there was a lack of eye contact; if people thought they knew me, they certainly didn't act like they wanted to know me.


I know what your going through. Or better yet, I know how you feel. These are great sentiments, but often they are said by someone who doesn't have a clue, who couldn't possibly know you, or your situation. I don't know how many times people in my life have said something similar to one of these phrases. My own mother said to me once when our wounds were still so very fresh; she said "We are all hurting, you need to remember that you are not the only one who is hurting here" (this is of coarse to the best of my memory) 
This made me so very angry and for one of the very few times as a teen, I yelled at my mother. " I know we are all hurting, but no one is hurting the way that I am hurting, no one knows what it feels like to be me." She didn't know me then and sadly she still doesn't today. I would learn years later, that she actually did know my pain, which made it all the harder to understand why she didn't know what I needed to feel better, to feel even a little bit whole after all I had been through.

Often when people don't know you, it is because you don't know yourself. And when you struggle to know you, you make it harder for them to see the you whom you really are. Some of us, then turn to anything and everything to try and find what were are looking for. To be able to look in the mirror and like what we see; to look in the mirror and be able to say  "I know you. I know your face" It is in the moments that we can do that, to recognize ourselves that others will recognize us too. That will allow them to see past the "I'm fine" and to instead ask what they can pray about for us, pray with us for that matter. My own children proved that they have learned this themselves, that they indeed know me, their mother.
Recently I had had an off day, an old ghost was heavy in my thoughts and I just couldn't shake it. I tried to put on face, to be OK, to do what needed to be done. (It was a happy time for crying out loud, I didn't need to be feeling sorry for myself) Within an hour of each other, with next to no interaction with me or each other - two of my kids asked me if I was OK. Weather it was my face or my body language that had betrayed me, they knew. They knew something was wrong, because they knew me, they knew my face.


I just heard the phrase "I know your face" tonight. I was having a good conversation with a dear friend and she mentioned it towards the end of our evening. She shared a moment from the movie it was from and we both agreed it means so much more than the obvious, its not just about knowing someones "face" per-say, but knowing them, about knowing their soul, truly knowing their inner most being. It's about knowing when something is wrong with that certain someone. And then its about understanding what your supposed to do about it. Prayers for wisdom to know such answers never come in the time or fashion we would hope for. But instead are hidden in the linings of conversations, packed away in a lost box that is not meant to be found until; well until its meant to be found. God is kind of funny that way. 
He knows our face, and each and every hair on our head.  


Jeremiah 1:5a  Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,


Psalm 139:13-14  For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I will praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful I know that full well.


He knows your face, He knows your inner most being, the depths of your very soul. Will you allow Him to not only know you, but to teach you to know you too?

The Power of Three

Once again, it is my pull to an old TV show that inspires me to write a new entry. Netflix is great, and over the coarse of the summer I found another show to begin re-watching; the show Charmed. In the beginning it was fun, catching up on episodes I missed the first time around, remembering things that I had forgotten about. But as I progressed, I remembered why it had been so long since I had seen much of the show. It wasn't just the fact that we have not had cable in years, but that somewhere along the way things began disturbing me (especially my sleep) and I abruptly stopped watching the show. Now here I am, years have passed, and once again I have done just that; stopped watching. Finding it quite significant that I am practically in the same spot where I stopped watching all those years ago. 


In the past I had rationalized that it was an OK show because it was about good and evil.  Yet, it is not just a show about good and evil, where primarily (at least thru the 4 -4 1/2 years that I watched it) good prevails. But it became a program where someone was pushing the envelope on the evil side of things, seeing just how creepy and demonic they could make the bad guys.  I did however, always like the idea of the three good 'witches' working together to protect and serve those in need, the innocents. I was a bit frustrated, even disturbed when one of those sisters was so easily replaced, so that the "Power of Three" could carry on and continue fulfilling their "destiny". It's a catchy phrase, the 'power of three', and as I have once again stopped watching and been directing my mind and thoughts towards other things, I am reminded of a much more powerful 'Three".


The Trinity defines God as three divine persons — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — distinctly coexisting in unity as co-equal, co-eternal, and con-substantial, or of one being. 
We had a guest pastor this past Sunday at church and he taught from the book of Romans, including being separated "to" righteousness. He stated that through surrender we need to be dead to sin, married to Christ and to walk in the Spirit. As he spoke about this position of righteousness, as he called it;  I scribbled down the words "the power of three" on the side of the handout we had been given to go along with the sermon. 


Each one of us, as Christians who truly believe; contains a part of that 'power of three' within us, via the Holy Spirit. So with that given fact, we have the power and ability to protect and serve, to help the innocent. How many of us do that? Look within ourselves, for that said power. Then look outside ourselves and ask to be directed to those more needy than ourselves and make efforts to make a difference. To protect, to reach out, to lift up someone other than ourselves. Something other than what might be beneficial to us on a personal level. Random Acts of Kindness, Pay it Forward, those are both led of the Spirit, the power of three in action. 


As a single parent, I can not count how many times I have been the reciprocate of some sort of kindness or generosity. As in the past 15 years I have been surrounded by the body of Christ in one place or another and members of that body did (from their hearts) what the word (God breathed) instructs us to do, look after the fatherless, the widows, those in need. I am blessed because of those gifts, not for their monetary value, but for their heart value. Each time I was reached out to, I felt a part of, included, cared about; loved. Often these were friends, my church family who said "here, let us help you" More often than not, it was anonymous and only God Himself knows those who reached outside of their own, to help someone more in need than the reflection in the mirror.  These ordinary people who on a daily basis try to live His Word and "walk the walk" not just "talk the talk".


On occasion, I too have been able to reach out, give back, pay it forward myself. 
Those moments I treasure, and I look forward to the times in the future when I can do it more and more; giving back as it has been given to me.  Allowing the Spirit within me, my own power of three to guide me to the next person in need, the lost and hurting soul. When we feel that guiding, when we hear the wee small voice of God; knowing the truth of the Spirit, allowing it to be a part of us. We then have the power to defeat anything satan is allowed to throw our way. 


Evil is real, and unlike being able to stop watching a TV show because it disturbs me, I can not control the evil around me, let alone make it go away. I can however, with the power of God Himself, via the Holy Spirit, fight it. I can fight all of it; financial struggles, relationship difficulties, worry and depression. None of these 'demons' are bigger than my God, or the strength that He gives me, I am a part of the mightiest power of three.


I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.  
Philippians 4:13