Tag / Grace

by lesliedanielle87

Window Seat

Today I am with mom at UCI for her 5th cycle of chemotherapy. Chemo days always make for early mornings. Once she was all checked in and one of the nurses guided us to where she would be spending the next few hours, it just so happened we were sitting by a window. Most of the seats here in the infusion center are near windows, but most of them face the sides of other buildings. Today, our window directly faces the hospital.

Throughout our lives we grow, evolve, and progress, but not often do we get a clear picture of just how far we have come. This morning as I look across the courtyard to the hospital, the picture is so clear. Mom and I spent days, weeks, and months in that hospital. It’s where she nearly lost her battle with cancer. It’s where she lost her ability to walk. It’s where she learned to walk again. It’s where doctors turned into family. Its where all limits were tested. It’s where we learned just how strong we could be.

We come to UCI at least once a week, I see it often, but today when I looked out the window, I was overwhelmed…I really saw it today.

I saw how far we have come. It’s not a long distance between where we are and where the hospital is…but looking at it today, it’s the longest distance. It’s a space filled with painful memories, fear filled days and nights, doubt, and tears. But that’s not all that fills that space…mixed in to all the difficulties are all the “small wins” along the way. Each step taken, each day we made it through, the relationships that were formed, and all the beautiful souls that have joined our team and mom’s fight.

My heart is full. My heart is grateful. My heart is humbled.

We have been met by grace at every twist and turn along this path.
We’ve come a long way.

I see all that is behind us and I anxiously look forward to all that is ahead.
A future we almost didn’t have.
IMG_0180.JPG

by lesliedanielle87

Confessions of a Recovering Church Kid

Hi, my name is Leslie and I’m a recovering church kid. Okay, I’ll confess, I wasn’t just a church kid…I was a PK. Not only did I spend most of my childhood as a “Pastor’s Kid” but I come from a long line of ministry. It’s the family business. My almost 75 year old grandpa is still pastoring.

As a kid I didn’t harbor unexpressed hatred for the ministry, but as a silent sufferer of significant social anxiety, I was uncomfortable a lot of the time. And for years, that was my biggest complaint. I knew that it was what my dad was called to, and by default, our family as well, to some degree. I understood that there were a lot of other people that needed my dad and that he was always “on-call”. I didn’t resent the fact that people lined up to talk to him after service and that we were always the last ones to leave. It was my normal. I had been in church quite literally since I was brought home from the hospital as a baby. It was my life.

Church was a second home…
Until it wasn’t.

One of the greatest things about being in a ministry family is you have a front row seat to see God work in the lives of people all the time.
One of the hardest things about being in a ministry family is that you have a front row seat to see…well, people.

We are all imperfect beings in need of a Savior. That is true whether you come from a long line of ministry or not. As a result of this “front row seat” I saw some things that really altered the way I viewed church. It was not a home anymore. It wasn’t a safe place. It wasn’t looking a whole lot like the church Jesus talked about.

Now, I am not referring to any one church, or one particular experience. This disillusionment came as a result of a combination of multiple experiences. Sure, I had seen some really wonderful things that God had done. But I had also seen so many terrible things that “His” people had done and after a while, I couldn’t see past it.

I had seen church politics tear families apart. I had seen a hunger for power and control break friendships. I had seen broken people become more broken as a result of being judged rather than accepted. I had seen Scripture twisted so that it spoke more of fear and judgement instead of love and grace. I had seen people hurt other people without hesitation in the name of Jesus. Some of the people closest to me were deeply hurt by some of these things and I was hurt in the crossfire. After the dust began to settle I found that one of my deepest hurts was from the disappointment. I grew up with a dad who passionately believed in the kind of church Jesus talked about in the New Testament. He believed in the kind of church that gravitated towards the broken and unloved rather than turn away from them. He dedicated his life to trying to be that kind of person; to love that way.

About 7 years ago I reached the point where I loved Jesus, but couldn’t stand to be in church. A few years later when I moved away, I didn’t try and find a church. I was happy to further my spirituality and relationship with God without having to deal with church. During these years I had some of the greatest conversations with my dad about religion, spirituality and life. I was free of the negativity that came with attending a church. I had no intention of ever going back to church life. As life would unfold a couple of years after that, I would learn that my plans or intentions really didn’t matter much.

In June 2012 my dad passed away unexpectedly and in an instant it felt as though my whole world came crashing down in pieces all around me. Shortly after, I moved back home to be with my family. Devastated, broken hearted and lost, I gravitated toward familiar people and places. Church was one of those places. My mom and I visited some of the churches we had once attended with my dad. We were always welcomed with open arms, but the memories of time spent there with my dad proved to be too much.

In December 2012 my mom and I were invited to the Christmas program at Eastside Christian Church. I was blown away by the production quality but I was more impacted by the pastor. At the end of the program he got up on stage and sort of recapped the Christmas story. I quickly gathered that he was a great communicator and he seemed like a nice guy. He closed in prayer and that was that. As I sat there and waited for the room to clear out a bit it hit me…in the most non-threatening, conversational way, Gene gave a mini-sermon and invitation to salvation and I didn’t cringe once. There was no threat of hell, judgement, or guilt trips. It was all so genuine, grace-filled, and easy. I told my mom that we needed to come back and visit after the holiday…I needed to know if this place was for-real.

The next time we went back, it was a particularly hard day. The grief of losing my dad was hitting hard, reaching out for hope, we managed to get ourselves there. The worship team came out and Joel Johns was leading. He began to speak of his own struggles and brokenness. He spoke honestly about where he was at that day. And led us in the song his needed to sing. It happened to “Blessed Be Your Name”. He really emphasized the importance for him to sing “You give and take away. You give and take away. My heart will choose to say: Lord blessed be your name.” It turned out that it was what my heart needed to sing too. I never would have guessed that a church that had each service so well planned would have allowed for something like that. Clearly, Eastside was a place that not only welcomed, but embraced and supported people going through difficult seasons.

At the end of that service my cousin Isaac took us to meet Gene. I would have never guessed that one of the main pastors of a church this size would be so easily accessible…or real. As Isaac introduced us he made mention of the fact that we were all facing the loss of a loved one.I lost my dad in the summer, Isaac lost his mom that fall. Without hesitation, without knowing us, Gene asked if he could pray with us…and then he did. (I would later find out that Gene lost his dad early in his life and could truly relate to what I was going through.) I was speechless. All of this was real. Eastside was the real deal. These were real people. They had pain and struggles just like me and I didn’t have to hide them. It’s almost as though they like broken people more than fixed people. On the outside, everything about Eastside was different than anything I had experienced before, but on the inside there was something familiar. I couldn’t quite figure out what was so familiar, and then it finally hit me. That familiar thing I felt was the feeling of being home.
Why did I share all of this? Because last week at Eastside they were painting messages on car windows and even I couldn’t believe which message I chose…

IMG_0162

It took a long time and a lot of grace to get here and it wasn’t easy. But not only do I still love Jesus…I love my church too.

Thank you Gene and the entire Eastside community for creating a place that I could call home.

by lesliedanielle87

If I Ever Needed Grace

This morning on my way to work I heard a Jimmy Needham song called “If I Ever Needed Grace” that talks about the various moments in his life that he was aware of just how much he needed God’s grace. The chorus says: “If I ever needed grace it’s now, you are strong when I am weak somehow. And I am weak enough to see that I need you to cover me. If I ever needed grace it’s now.” And the bridge states: “In every joy and pain, whatever comes my way, God I need your grace.”

On this night, just one year ago, was one of the biggest moments where I found myself in desperate need of grace…

It was March 1st, 2013 and it was a Friday just like any other; I woke up, went to work and came home between 9:30-10 that night. My usual routine once I got home was to catch up with the family and then go to bed, but this wasn’t any other night. I remember walking into the bedroom and seeing mom sitting on the edge of the bed. Immediately, I knew something was wrong. After a brief discussion we had determined that mom needed to be taken to the Emergency Room. If I ever needed grace, it’s now.

Fear doesn’t seem strong enough to describe what I felt as we got in the car and drove to the hospital. Just 9 months earlier, my dad was rushed to the Emergency Room…he never returned home. Terror might be more accurate. I remember thinking/praying/pleading, “God, please, not another one.”  If I ever needed grace, it’s now

Somewhere between 10:00-11 we had arrived and signed into the ER at AnaheimRegionalMedicalCenter. We waited a while before they took us back. They started their work up; vitals, blood work, a thousand questions, and a CT scan. Then, we waited some more. A couple hours later the ER doctor came to speak with us. She started discussing some of the test results, and then she made the statement that I can still hear so clearly: “The scan also shows a large mass on your ovary that could be indicative of Ovarian Cancer.” I know that she said other stuff but my memory of everything gets a little foggy after that. Somewhere in the early hours of the morning mom was admitted so that further tests could be done. If I ever needed grace, it’s now

A year ago, cancer was a word that I didn’t even want to think, let alone say, because it scared me so much. Over the course of the last year, for several months, it became a part of my daily vocabulary. It is my intention and heart’s desire to write our whole story of all that happened since March 1st of last year and begin sharing it, but for tonight, what I really want to share with you is this:

A year ago, my life was intact. In one night, with one word, all of that changed. This last year had so many days and nights that were complete hell and I didn’t think I’d ever see the light of day again. It also had so many days that brought successes and miracles I’d never thought I’d see with my own eyes. I don’t ever want to live in fear of all that could happen. And I have to be honest with you, after losing my dad and my mom getting sick, sometimes I’m tempted to live in that fear, but what I know now that I didn’t know a year ago is that whatever may come God’s grace really is sufficient. Those used to be just words to me; something nice people say when you’re going through a difficult time. It’s a nice idea, but now I have experienced its truth. It’s not that I don’t have fear, because I do, but I do have the understanding of how little there really is to fear when you have the unconditional love and unending grace of the Creator of the universe. None of us know what tomorrow will bring or when that night that changes everything will come. I want to encourage you, don’t live in fear of those moments, instead be present in the one you have right now, whatever it is. Be present with the ones you love, tell them that you love them, don’t be too busy to stop and hug them. Don’t let busyness be the reason you miss all the little moments.

I really wish I had the words to describe the gratitude I feel tonight. It’s hard to look back at some of the things that have happened because those wounds are still fresh and tender, but if I’m completely honest with myself, and with you, the truth is this: A year ago, I really feared, and often believed that my mom wouldn’t be here right now. And while I would much rather be sitting with her talking or watching a movie, I did just get off the phone with her a little bit ago. While I can’t describe so many things that I feel right now, I can choose one word to describe the last year… miracle.

It’s a miracle my mom is alive.

It’s a miracle that Stage IV Cancer didn’t kill her.

It’s a miracle that we all still have [most] of our sanity..

It’s a miracle that rather than bitterness over the bad things that have happened…

We choose joy.

We choose gratitude.

We choose life.

We choose to embrace our miracle.

It’s been quite a year. A year that we would not have survived had it not been for the generous, infinite supply of God’s grace in our lives. Mom ended up with some of the best doctors in their field, despite not working, there was never a physical or financial need that was not met, regardless of how lonely it felt that was not a single moment we were without the constant love, prayers, and support of countless friends and family. Every moment we needed grace, it was there. Most of the last year was spent in hospitals. It had a lot of sleepless nights. In one year my mom was diagnosed, hospitalized, lost her ability to walk, regained her ability to walk, underwent chemotherapy and major surgery, and is now cancer free! And so much more…

Quite a year indeed.

We’ve come a long way 😉

Image