Category Archives: making an impact

Life Is Not Good For Me.

And, that is what prompted my Google searches on “how to start a non-profit organization.”  If you read yesterday’s post, you are aware that my son was unhappy that I have an iPad, and he doesn’t.  He was also unhappy that his sister slept with me, and he didn’t.  At the close of the evening on Tuesday night, he grumbled a little more.  I simply told him, “Life is good for you, John Henry.”

“Life is not good for me,” I heard him say as he traipsed up the stairs. 

No. He. Just. Didn’t. 

Yes. He. Did.

It was as if I had been practicing the parenting speech that would follow for years.

“Come here, son.  Let me take you to a third world country and show you children with no toys.  Let me take to you a poverty-stricken village where children sleep with no roof over their heads.  Let me take you to a place where children are hungry and wondering if they will eat that day.  Wondering if this is the day they STARVE TO DEATH.”

Notice how I emphasized the “starve to death” part for dramatic impact?

I continued to tell him how blessed he is.  Not remind him.  But, tell him.  Because, somehow, he had been completely unaware some children go without food.  But, beyond telling him about his blessings, I told him that things are just things.  I told him I could drop my fancy iPad tomorrow, and it could shatter into tiny pieces.  And, what would I have left?  Well, not a cool iPad, and probably an upset husband.  But, anyway….

I would still be a child of a King who completes me.  That, in Him, I can be content no matter where I am or what I have.  Because of HIM.

He went onto bed, and I followed up shortly after.  I noticed tears streaming down his cheeks.  Being the good parent that I am, I assumed he was crying over how “life isn’t good” for him.  Good one, Mom. 

“That’s not why I’m crying,” he responded.

“Then, why?”

“Because there are hungry children. “

I comforted him and nodded.

Then, he asked, “What can we do?”

Wow.  I wasn’t prepared for that one.  So, I gave the “we give more, and we need others to give more to help feed them” answer.

“Can I start collecting money for them?”  He asked me.

“I think so.  Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

So, we prayed, and we talked again the next day. 

Last night, he reminded me about our conversation.  I asked him to pray.  I asked him to seek God and ask Him to show him ways to raise money for those less fortunate.  Then, I told him, that when he feels like God gives him an idea, to let me know.

In the meantime, I’m researching on my end.  And, while I realize there are plenty of good solid organizations to give to, I know this is something he needs to do.  He wants to do.  And, really?  I guess we all need to want to do it.  Who knows where this will go.  Or, perhaps, what organization it might connect us to.  But, I do know John Henry desires to put hands and feet to his new awareness that hungry children exist.  And, I want to do the same.

He who is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will reward him for what he has done.”  Proverbs 19:17

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Filed under giving, gratitude, making an impact, parenting

Am I A Black Person?

John Henry checked out a book from the library called “Ron’s Big Mission.”   Before he began to read the book aloud to me, I was not quite prepared to have a discussion on America’s past history of segregation.  But, it was time.  I am sure.

The book is based on the true story of Ron McNair who, as a child, was an avid reader and loved to read books about airplanes.  Growing up in South Carolina in the 50’s and 60’s was not exactly easy for any black child.  Especially a black boy who simply wanted to check out books from his local whites only public library. 

Until one day, Ron decided he wasn’t leaving the library until he was a card holder.  His mother was called, police officers showed up, and Ron stood his ground still.  As a result, Ron changed a piece of history and became the first black person to check out books from that library.

Talk about a lion chaser.

John Henry, of course, asked a lot of questions.  A lot of surprising questions.

“Am I a black person?” he asked. 

“No, baby, you are a white person.”

At this point in the conversation, I realized he had never identified people belonging to different races.  So, I asked him what he thought when he saw someone with dark skin. 

“I just thought their skin was darker.  That is all.  I kind of have dark skin, so I am really kind of white and black.”  He told me. 

“Sure.  You are white and black,” I assured him. 

I was not about to disappoint him.  I taught him about the days of segregation.  I explained where we were as a nation during those times and where we are now.  Honestly, it was a difficult, but necessary conversation. 

We then read a little more on the life of Ron McNair.  This 9-year old hero grew up to be an even greater American hero.  This little boy who loved airplanes became a pilot.  And, on January 28, 1986, he lost his life as an astronaut during the launch of the Space Shuttle Challenger.

I hope John Henry not only learned something about the significance of civil rights.  I also hope he learned about what it means to stand up for something he believes in.  And, what it really means to be a lion chaser.


Ron McNair
October 21, 1950 – January 28, 1986

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Filed under life, making an impact, parenting

Don’t Close Up Shop.

I can let life swallow me up.  I can.  I can allow the activities and antics of three children cause me to close up shop on sharing my gifts with others.  Serving others.  Because, it seems like too much at that moment.

But, it’s not always too much.  It’s not usually as stressful as we make it out to be.  It’s just our response to those busy moments that mess with our head.  Okay, maybe it’s just my head.  Maybe, it’s just me? 

I almost let one of those moments make me close up shop yesterday afternoon.  My sweet husband had a dinner meeting with airplane-ish type folk.  I had household obligations, two children with obligations, and an infant who, well, was only obligated to let me know when he was hungry.  And, he was.  Of course, he was.   Have you seen him?  Only the cutest chunk of love in the history of chunks of love. 

You see?  I do not lie, friends.

It would have been easier to let these things – life things – consume me.  Stay home.  Pretend there was nothing or no one else besides myself and my three little people.  It really would have.  But, one thing I’ve learned (and my parents have taught me) in my thirty-five plus years on planet earth is this:

My life will be more blessed when I live beyond myself. 

Beyond me.  Beyond my kids’ homework and schedules.  Beyond the constant needs of an infant.  Beyond making sure I’ve emptied the dishwasher.  Beyond getting my hair ministered to – which by the power of the Holy Spirit, I was able to fit that in.  Can I get an amen on coverin’ them roots? 

I was responsible for teaching the youth last night.  And, for some dadgum reason, I can’t say “youth” without thinking of My Cousin Vinny.  You know the line.  “Your honor, two utes.”  I seriously can’t.  I drive myself crazy sayin’ it.  ANY. HOW.

By choosing to overcome any stress that parenting, sans my awesome husband, brings, I used one of my gifts.  More than that, I just served.  And, instead of staying home, putting my children to bed, and contemplating how hectic my day was….

I put my children to bed, and then I went to bed fulfilled.  Content.  Happy.  Blessed.

I think that’s what Paul meant in Acts 20 when he said, “it’s more blessed to give than to receive.” 

But, don’t get me wrong.  If any of y’all wanna come keep three little people and send me to the spa, I will not make you withhold those good gifts.  You know.  Since that would bless y’all and all.

Ahem.

I mean, Amen.

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Filed under giving, life, making an impact, Motherhood, parenting

She’s A Fly Girl Who Loves Her Country.

Meet Beth Ruby. 

She’s my super cool, brave friend serving in the Air Force.  Oh, and she’s pretty much the smartest chick I know, too.  She wrote this post a while back, and I asked her permission to post it here.  Want to know why I and so many others are proud to call her friend?  Well, just read why she serves our country.

Guest Blog:  Beth Ruby

“Why I Serve”

I have been asked numerous times by friends, family, and strangers why I chose military service. I always answered this question without thought; a sort of conditioned response that contained a very mediocre answer. I always thought that I wanted to serve to protect our freedoms, and because I wanted to be in the world’s greatest Air Force. While these reasons are worthwhile, they are not truly why I am called to serve. I gave these reasons because that is what everyone else says. The real reason, however simple, just became clear to me tonight as I watched footage from World War II.

In the not too distant past, America was called into a war of nations to protect the security and freedom of millions of citizens, both foreign and domestic. Fascist dictators were spreading their evil empires across continents. When America entered World War II, it was not to simply lend a hand. We knew that an outright defeat of these regimes was essential to the continued prosperity of every nation. The urgency and importance of this war was realized by almost all American citizens. Men set aside their goals and ambitions, and volunteered to fight; others were drafted to serve. Either way, these men were torn from their families, their careers, and every bit of comfort they enjoyed in America. They were thrown into one of the bloodiest and most devastating wars in history, and without hesitation, they fought and died. On the home front, every citizen gave up luxuries to support the war efforts. Items were rationed, women went to factories to work, and hundreds of families got letters each day explaining their loved one was killed in action.

The average American today has no concept of the sacrifices made by every person that was alive during those times. Only the eldest members of our society witnessed the extreme loss and suffering that took place during World War II. Sadly, the veterans that fought in World War II are nearing the end of their lives, and soon they will be only memories.

Not too long after World War II, America was forced to once again stop the spread of evil in both Korea and Vietnam. American citizens were torn from the comforts of home and whatever plans they had made for their lives. In both conflicts, these brave Americans were fighting with their hands tied. We sent them there to win, but did not give them the support they needed to do so. Thousands of Soldiers, Marines, Sailors, and Airmen died in these conflicts. Many others were taken prisoner, or were never accounted for. For hundreds of military members, returning from Vietnam was almost as difficult as fighting in country. Some have said it was even more painful. Unlike World War II, our fighters did not return to a grateful nation as heroes, they returned to quite a substantial number of protestors. Some of these protestors spat on them and called them “baby killers.”

Now that brings me to today. I am very grateful that I was born an American, and I am even more grateful for the brave men and women that came before me that made being an American so great. We are currently fighting in a very controversial war on terror, and American men and women are dying every day in service to our country. Just like in Vietnam, we are fighting a war that is not fully supported, and unlike World War II, our actions are governed more by public opinion than by public good. Americans sacrifice nothing in modern warfare. We still get to pump as much gas as we want into our Hummers, and it is completely cool to bash whatever leadership you want in the name of free speech. This is all fine, until you cross the line. In my opinion, you cross the line the moment you bash or blame the military. Remember that the San Franciscan sipping a latte has as much influence on foreign policy a the soldier in a hole in Iraq.

Finally, I have arrived at the reason why I chose to serve. Contrary to popular expression, I will not say that I serve to protect the rights of the very protestors that bash the military. This reason is very frequently used, but it carries little value to me personally. I would love to see the protestors try to hug a terrorist and use their infinite wisdom and logic to out reason a radical belief system. The real reason I chose to serve is simply to say thank you. Thank you to the millions of men and women who gave everything to give me something. No amount of words or gifts could ever convey my profound appreciation for those that fought before me. Hollywood has done a pretty good job of depicting some of the most memorable war stories. However, I do not consider my enjoyment of a movie as a sincere token of gratitude for the heroes depicted in it. Personally, the only possible way to express my thanks is by service. Although I am just one person, I am joining a great tradition, and a great symbol. The military is a group of individuals that collectively symbolize the very essence of freedom. I am about to begin a new course of training as an officer in the United States Air Force, where I will carry on and always remember the legacies of the heroes that came before me.

Thank you to all veterans, prisoners of war, those missing in action, Airmen, Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, Coasties, Reservists, Guardsmen, families of the military, civil servants, and every American that supports men and women in uniform!

Thank YOU Beth Ruby.

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I Have A Favor That Can Change Lives.

Dear Friends,

I have a favor.  It’s a small favor, but it can pay huge rewards.  If you are a Facebook member, I am asking for you to become a fan of Chase Community Giving here.  Chase is giving one charity $1 million to pursue a Big Idea.  You can learn more about this project here.

Once you become a fan of Chase Community Giving, you can cast your vote for the charity you would like to see funded by Chase.  I humbly ask that you consider voting for Ehlers Danlos Syndrome Network Cares.  Heard of EDS?  Most have not.  The EDS Network Cares writes,

“EDS is a life-threatening, painful, crippling genetic disorder caused by faulty collagen. It weakens the connective tissue causing fragile skin, joints, ligaments, organs, and blood vessels. EDS is misunderstood, grossly misdiagnosed, and some 90% never receive a proper diagnosis in their lifetime. There is no funding for research. There are no treatments. There is no cure. Today, we are at the threshold of promising research that can change all this and offer those who suffer, HOPE. It’s estimated that 1,358,640 people are affected worldwide, and thousands die. Sadly, many are diagnosed at autopsy after catastrophic internal ruptures. Yearly, 30,000 children are born with bleak futures as they struggle with lifelong consequences due to EDS. Our HOPE is to continue to fund research, increase education/awareness, find treatment options, and save/improve lives. Help us find that cure.”

You can read more about EDS and their Big Idea here.

Why is this charity so important to me?  Because, I lost a best friend in 1998 to Vascular EDS.  His name was Josh Doss.  Few have ever been as passionate about life as Josh.  He was a lover of Christ and a lover of people.   His son, Karsten, was only seven weeks old at the time of Josh’s death.  In the few short days after Josh died, his mother, Debbie learned that Karsten had the same disease. 

And, there is no cure.

Please, watch this video as a tribute to Josh and Karsten.  Then, please cast your vote for Ehlers Danlos Syndrome Network Cares so Karsten, and so many others like him, can have a chance at long life.  Vote for EDS.  Vote for hope.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

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Those Pears Can Be A Doozy.

It was a busy, emotional weekend.  Well, not too busy.  But, apparently it was emotional considering I broke down in the produce section at Super Target.  I don’t think it really matters why

It was the produce section, after all.  Kris was with me.  His expression was a silent “wow.”  He didn’t mention the tears over the tomatoes the rest of the shopping adventure. 

Until the check-out line when he pretended to cry over the jar of jalepenos, the bag of carrots, and the honey crisp apples. 

I would say, “the nerve.”  But the truth is….

He made me laugh.

My friend, Marla, made me feel better when she uncovered her sister Melanie’s pregnancy breakdown.  Poor girl cried when her person didn’t win the Showcase Showdown on the Price Is Right.  And, rightly so.  The Showcase Showdown is kind of a big deal.

It’s hard growing a person, people. 

To top it all off, I can’t even look at the devastation of Haiti.  But, I do.  Because, I refuse to be unaffected by it.  Unmoved.  Unwilling to do something.

I have to.  We all do.  Our hearts have to break over what breaks God’s heart.  Isaiah 61 says God has anointed us to bring good news to the poor and to comfort the brokenhearted.  I think it’s awesome that most of us can give something financially.  And, we should.  But, when I heard my friend, Amy Newberry, say this, it made me want to invest more than just my money:

“I really wish I could go to Haiti today and hold some of those precious women while they cry over the loss of their children.”

That’s a deeper level, friends.  It’s actually being the hands and feet of Christ.

God, please.  Break my heart for what breaks yours. 

And, bring healing to Haiti’s people.

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Filed under giving, God Stuff, making an impact, pregnancy

The Tapestry Project

I gotta tell you.  It just feels good to do something that’s not all about me or my family.  Something that even gets me out of my comfort zone.

This was just my experience last week at The Tapestry Project.  The Tapestry’s website explains it “is an organization that is revitalizing a deteriorating neighborhood through renovation, restoration, and connecting people in need to the resources that will equip them to thrive as a community. The vision is to create model for urban development and community transformation for women, children and families in crisis all across Oklahoma City.”

It’s simply AMAZING what Amy Newberry and her husband, Joshua, have birthed in this project.  They are both incredible examples of what it means to be the hands and feet of Jesus Christ.

I served Tapestry with a few of my bible study peeps.  You can see a few pictures from our day by visiting Tapestry’s blog.  I really hate that the photo Cindy Beall took of me with a broom in my hand didn’t make the post.  But, I did make sure she sent it to my husband.  You know….for the shock factor and all.

Praying over a few of the young ladies living in apartments provided by Tapestry was overwhelming but so dang fulfilling.  We prayed over specific needs they had.  I wanted to just bring one pregnant, 17 year old girl named Sarah home with me.  But, I became increasingly aware that Sarah needs my friendship and impartation of Christ more than anything.  Amy Newberry commented, “I know their needs seem overwhelming.  But they really need me to just sit on their porch steps, drink their coffee, and be a little heaven on earth to them.” 

I think, at times, we let ourselves get so overwhelmed at such large needs, that we fail to give the GREATEST gift we can give:  Christ.

I’ll never forget Amy’s words.

And, I’m very excited about serving there again. 

With my family – including my two children. 

Who will learn from a very young age that there is a world of hurting people.  And, oh what joy comes from being the hands and feet of Christ.

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Picking Up The Mantle

My dad is currently covering a series on the prophet, Elisha.  Here is a guy who had so much anointing in his dead bones that they revived another corpse that had been thrown into his tomb.  (2 Kings 13:21)   That’s kind of a big deal.  I mean, what do you have to do to die and leave this kind of anointing behind?  According to the life of Elisha, you have to serve in another man’s field – the way he did for Elijah.  You have to seek this kind of anointing with your own blood, sweat, and tears the way Elisha did.  And, you have to be willing to pick up the mantle God places on you.  Or, in some cases, pick up the mantle when it’s passed onto you. 

I emphasize “when”, because I see so many men and women in ministry itching to pick up a mantle that hasn’t even been passed to them instead of picking up a mantle that God already placed inside them long ago.  Good examples of “when” are the Joel Osteens, Ed Youngs, and Andy Stanleys of the world who had fathers to pass on their mantle. 

The fact of the matter is, God has given each of us a mantle – a calling.  We can run our entire lives and never pick it up.  God won’t give it to someone else, but He’ll certainly allow someone else to operate in your place.  Someone may wait until the latter years of his life to pick up his mantle.  Another may never pick up hers.  Others, from an early age, will pick theirs up and begin operating in it the way God intended. 

Elisha wasn’t below serving in another man’s field.  He gave his life to doing the work of the Father, even when it made sense to do otherwise.  And, when the mantle fell, he picked it up with obedience and fulfilled the call of God on his life.

What would the scriptures look like had Elisha not been obedient?  What would have that next generation looked like?  It’s a scary thought.

What will this generation look like if we don’t pick up our mantles and operate in the gifts and callings Christ has given us? 

There is a mantle lying on the ground waiting for you to pick it up.  God has given you a gift to use for His Kingdom.  So, when you leave this earth, your anointing remains and affects another generation. 

Have you picked up your mantle?

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Our Real House.

Anna:  “Mom, this isn’t our real house.  Our real house is in heaven.”

I am still baffled as to why those words were uttered by my four year old.  It’s a topic yet to be discussed between the two of us.  And, to be honest, I didn’t seize the beautiful opportunity to elaborate on the subject any further than a simple, “Yes.  You’re right.”

So, I left it at that.

Two days passed, and I replayed her verbal observation in my head.  And, these scriptures came to mind:

19 “Don’t store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal.  20 Store your treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal.  21 Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be.  Matthew 6:19-21

A good self check-up followed.  Am I investing more of my energy into my earthly, temporal home than I am into my “real house”? 

There are days I invest more generously into the Kingdom than my own material possessions.  Yet, there are days where I can become consumed with what makes Dusty happy.  And, I’m not just talking about money.  Although, finances are a big part of it.  I’m also referring to my time.  Time spent alone with my Father.  Time spent imparting Christ to my children.  Time spent serving the local church.  Time spent ministering to someone in need.  Time spent using my gifts for the Kingdom. 

I want to store up treasures in my real house.  Because, this temporal house is but a vapor. 

Isn’t it funny how God uses our children to speak to us?

Where are you storing your treasures?

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We ARE The Church.

This weekend, Pastor Craig Groeschel explained that Christ-followers looking to the church to meet all of their needs is bad theology.  This wasn’t the first time I’ve heard this said, and I’ve always agreed with the statement.  But, God decided to mess me up with it about 2:00 am Sunday morning.  Not sure why we couldn’t talk at a more decent hour, but I’m not one for arguing with the giver of life.  At least, not on Sunday. 

At first, these thoughts started sweeping through my mind:

When did we become such consumers in our faith that we sit on the edges of our seats waiting for that one song to make us engage in worshipping our Creator?  Or that one message that would solidify our spiritual journey or give us that tingling feeling to make us go home feeling good about ourselves? 

As if the transforming power of “For God so loved the world that He gave” isn’t enough? 

I do not take for granted creative ways for reaching lost people.  I believe using whatever means we have to lead people to Christ.  And, while we as Christ-followers enjoy the media driven, smoke and lights presentation, it’s not really for us.

The church is not here for us.  We are the church.  And, we exist for the world.

After I began to process all of these thoughts, God began to talk to me about how I parent my children.  I love giving to my children.  I will continue to give to my children.  But not at the cost of them translating those gifts – or their needs being met – to how they view the church.  God showed me to instruct and inspire my children so they understand that THEY are the church.  THEY exist for the world.  So, I’m praying God will put before us opportunities where we can be just that.  The Church.  And, I know those opportunities are many. 

I don’t want to just go through the motions of life.  I don’t want my children to fail to recognize who they are.  The bride of Christ. 

Pastor Bill Hybels says, “the church is the hope of the world.”

I could not agree more.

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