16 years ago today a beautiful blue eyed, blonde haired angel was sent to this earth, and I was totally unaware.  Michael was not born to me, in fact he was about four years old the first time I saw him and he made quite and impression. I was walking out of a bible study class on a Tuesday morning and I was nearly plowed over by a flash of a yellow t-shirt and bright blonde hair. In an effort in avoid knocking me over at the last second, I watched in amazement as this child defied gravity, it was like a scene from Matrix. To this day I am not sure how he did it, but he was side ways on the wall, feet off the ground, and laughing the whole time, as if time stood still for him, and gravity was not real in his world.
    Fast forward 2 years, and I was becoming the step-mother to that little blonde boy with "super-powers". When we first began to blend my "all girl" family with Gary Blacks "all boy" family it was surprisingly a BLAST. We brought the balance to each others tribe that we desperately needed. The "chick family" needed some protection and fun, and the "fella family" needed some stabitily and calmness in their lives. We all got along brilliantly, and despite the outside attacks against us, and the people that wanted to destroy us; the seven of us just got closer and tighter all the time.    

               Every weekend when we were becoming a family we would load up all the kids, the tents, and the boat, head up to the mountains just to  have some fun and get away from the madnes and the craziness.  One particular weekend in a small western town, Michael was set on buying this wooden gun. He worked and saved...and he was so excited when we drove to the same shop the next weekend to buy his desired gun. We took all the kids to a near by park to play and let Michael shoot the rubber bands from his gun into the air (and not at his siblings). Gary and I walked hand in hand and stumbled upon a fabulous tiny white historic Church, and went to get a closer look.  Knowing I love history, Gary pretended to be interested as I read the placard aloud, "Historical monument, over 150 years old, protected and preserved by the historical society of...' BAM, BAM, BAM! What the????.....Gary and I both started running to the sound of wood, hitting wood with great force....I could see Michael...but my legs felt like they were stuck in mud and I could not move them fast enough. There was nothing sweet or angelic on Michaels face; his eyes were somehow not even blue, but dark. He had more physical strength than he should have been able to possess in his little body as he was slamming the end of his new gun into the fragile aged wood of the beautiful church. Hitting it, over and over, with everything he had, destroying them both, the look on his face was one of absence, as if in a trance. I was horrified, on every level. When I saw Gary s face I was even more horrified.... "Go sit in the car"....Gary said with a stern "dad" voice and took the gun from Michael. No longer was Michael in any trance, but snapped quickly back into a dire reality. He was fully awake now, and fully aware of the consequences.

Only quiet sad sounds came from the inside of the car, as we drove back to the cabin. Little whimpers and tears streamed down Michaels face, his little head hanging low, dreading the spanking to come. There was Gary's heavy breathing, anger mixed with disappointment. Tyler, Alexis, and Emily were staring out the window, afraid to say anything; sad for Michael, and always a little relieved they were not in trouble them selves....even baby Caleb didn't make a sound....and that was a miracle in itself, since he had at least 4 times the amount of words to use in a day for an average 3 year old.

I was quiet as well, taking it all in, and I was praying. And feeling very heavy. It did not take long for me to hear the voice, the whisper, the One I have known since I was a child. I prayed, "Lord, there has to be punishment for this, Michael is out of control, he has to understand that he has to control him self no matter how he feels, we can't let him keep acting like this, especially as an example to the other kids, but God, I cant let Gary spank him....Look at him God...Look at him, my baby boy is hurting.....what do I do Lord....."

Many times in my life those prayers have been met with silence, but this answer came instantly, " You are right Lisa, someone has to pay for what was done, but NOT Michael"...and I knew......

When we got back to the cabin Gary called all five little ones into the bedroom, (all our kids were 8 years old and under at the time) and asked them to sit on the bed. Gary explained the salvation story about how Jesus Christ had not committed any sin in his life, but someone had to pay for all the sins we had committed as his children. It was a sacrifice of love that Jesus gave him self for us to die on the cross and take our sins, paying the price for what we had done and setting us free. The eyes of our little ones were larger than normal, and Gary continued..."Mommy feels like the Lord has told her that Michael has sinned, and he knows that what he did was wrong, but Mommy wants to take Michaels sin for him this time." Michaels jaw, literally dropped open, and with that Gary took his belt off and proceeded to hit me with it, not once, but three times....I fell to my knees with the pain off it. I am certain that Gary laid it on extra thick for the dramatic effect, but the pain was intense. Gary and the other kids left the room, and Michael and I sat in silence for a moment....."Why did you do that for me?"  His watery blue eyes asked looking up at me. "Because I love you more than I love me"....and with that his little arms wrapped around my neck, and we held each other and cried for what seemed like hours. After that day, Michael was different, he was still wild, like little boys should be, he was still full of energy and life...but so much of the hurt and the anger evaporated that day, we were both healed as God molded our hearts together in our tears. there was a trust and a bond that grew between us that day that nothing could ever destroy, no one could every take away.  When God molds hearts together, blood or distance does not matter.   Ten years later Michael continues to be one of the greatest joys of my life. Every morning when we are getting our coffee, and he hands me the creamer, he puts his arms around me, and tells me he loves me, he is so tall now, my head rests exactly where his heart is. He often hugs me for a while, and sometimes even strokes my hair.  I always tell him that is heart beats so fast, he says "It's because I have such a high metabolism mom"....but I think it's because there is a ridiculous amount of love rushing through that heart of his, every second of everyday, and it is just always struggling to keep up....

Happy 16th birthday Michael, Hope it is the best one yet,

 I certainly love you, way more than I love me, and it is so easy!

Mommy

Two of my favorite spiritual son's are serving the women of Africa - I am so proud of both of you! Thank you, momma

 I started really thinking about who I am today, and started thinking about what it would take to be who I really want to be tomorrow. I need to make some changes, some big, some small....but I realized the only one who can change my mind, my thoughts, my speech, my LIFE, is me. I have the power, and I know the power Source.

 It has seemed that God has been so quiet this last year, or maybe He just isn't saying what I want to hear, or maybe I am just not listening at all....but one thing I do know, I am still here, I still have a job to do, I still have a lot of children to raise, and a man that needs a lot of love, support and prayer,  and I am the only one that can do it. All my strength still comes from Him, I definitely can not do this alone, and I don't WANT to.

I have no idea why today was the day for me to finally GET a concept I have known all my life. Maybe it is maturity, or brokenness, or maybe, it is just TIME.  Suddenly, I feel empowered instead of intimidated. Suddenly, the things I have been dreading, I am now excited about, because I know God is in all of it, and somehow it will all work together for good, for those that love Him. My children will not only survive their teenage years, they will thrive, the word of God is living and alive in them, they HAVE been brought up in the way they should go, that much I know for sure. Gary and I are embarking on the most exciting time of our lives, even though so much is unknown to us, even though it looks different than we thought it would. Together, stronger than ever, facing one day at a time, armed with truth, and falling even deeper in love....

I think of all the things I have made my gods, and all the ways I have been disappointed by them, always left empty, always left wanting the real thing. And there He is, ever-present, ever-loving, able to heal, and willing to forgive. It is time for the cloud of doubt and oppression to lift, and time for us to walk in our true destiny....a life of freedom and joy, a life of forgiveness and understanding. A life different than we thought, and better in everyway...it feels so good, to no longer be afraid....

I have thought recently that Satan was trying to kill me....I have been in the emergency room a few times, and the doctors office more than I would like. I have shook with uncontrollable chills and fever in the heat of Africa this past month....I have wept in my husbands' arms because I was in so much pain....I have avoided the phone calls from my mother and my best friends'.  I knew I could not hide the truth from them, and if they heard my voice they would worry.  I did not want anyone to know my dirty little secret, how depressed, how discouraged, how overwhelmed, and how sick I truly was....I didn't want anyone to know that for the first time in my life, I had lost HOPE.....I confess to you now that I have recently felt and said these words out loud "Surely God has forgotten me, He does NOT see Me and HE DOES NOT care!"....I am so far from perfect, but since I can remember as a very small child, I had always loved, known, and trusted God...

These are words that I did not even think, let alone speak when my first husband died, I did not say those words when my precious nieces were ripped from our family and handed over to a demon disguised as a human to be abused however he choose to abuse them....I did not say those words the two times that I started bleeding days after the pregnancy test was positive and Gary and I started to think of names for our unborn yet already loved baby, a baby, that was not to be.......

No, every time hardship hit my life, I STILL KNEW!  I knew, no matter how deep my own pain, God was still on the throne, and all would make sense in time, somehow, I KNEW God would not only heal my heart, but use it for His Glory. This past year, for the first time in my life, I started to doubt His faithfulness, His love, His provision, and His power to heal, not just my mind and emotions, but my soul and my body....

This last six months I have been rendered helpless to BE Lisa-Marie Black, as I saw her, a wife, a mommy, a comforter and encourager.....many days it was all I could do to bathe myself, let alone cook, clean, check homework, disciple, teach, travel, speak and write...there have been days, visitors and conversations I have been told of, but I have NO memory of. 

I still do not know the name of the mysterious disease that has stolen my life, my identity, my joy and my hope for nearly a year now.....I know the day it started, I was working out with Gary (in Swaziland)  when a pain in my lower abdomen doubled me in half...I brushed it off and "pressed through", and then pressed through some more like a good little solider...until I had nothing left......depleted in everyway, back in my own country a year later.....laying on my bed today telling God, as if He didn't know how miserable I was....tears soaking my pillow, alone, I asked Him one last time.....
"God, are you going to let Satan kill me, is this how my journey ends, I hate this, I hate my life, I can't stand the pain, I can't stand being this weak....I CAN"T DO ANYTHING!!!!! I CAN'T DO ANYTHING!

All I heard Him say was, "serve your kids" (I was looking for something more like "take a nap honey, It will all be better when you wake up)...My children are sick and exhausted, sports, school, exams, projects and jobs have worn them out.....I have been embarrassed and ashamed of how much help I have needed to keep this house running...Gary is working night and day, never stopping to provide for our growing expenses. All that combined has filled our normally peaceful home with anger and resentment.....the "perfect storm" for everything we DON'T want it to be. I have not been loving them or serving them they way they have always known me to, I had just been distant, short, snippy, and not very nice.

       So, I cleaned their rooms and bathrooms, did their laundry and left them all love notes on their fresh beds, telling them I wish I could do more to serve them, how much I loved them, begged for forgiveness for being less than pleasant in my pain, and left the rest up to the Lord. Strangely, I had energy to do it all, with...dare I say JOY.....still unsure of the point of all this, I was just happy to hear SOMETHING from God, seeing as He has been annoyingly quiet this past year!

Only Caleb and Noah were home, so we ate our chicken in the "fancy" dinning room, and put apple juice in wine glasses to have our own little dinner party on an ordinary night. And that is when God showed up....Caleb, (almost 12) and often over looked in a house full of loud and demanding teenagers and I started to talk....I mean really honestly talk, about the past, about our hurts, about the people that had abandoned him, how hard it has been on him to have the only Mommy he remembers to be sick, and not "present" like before.  Tears of deep pain streamed down both our faces...and I COULD NOT DO ANYTHING,

But hold him, pray with him, beg him to forgive me, show him my true heart.....and trust that God was healing us both....and He did. In less than an hour He healed almost 10 years of pain and hurt and confusion in my beautiful little boy.....because, I COULD NOT DO ANYTHING, but let Him be God.....Now, I realize, Satan has not been trying to kill me, GOD HAS BEEN KILLING ME....all my pride, all my knowledge, all my performance....I am a dead woman, and somehow I know when I wake up tomorrow I will have more life to give than I have ever had before......This whole being DEAD thing may very well save my life, and my family!

To be completely honest, our time since we have returned from Swaziland nine months ago has been one of our most difficult seasons as a family. Mind you our Tribe has faced death, divorce, harassment, loss, and devastation in our nine years together....Dare I say moving home to the most amazing country in the world from one of the most devastated countries in the world, has nearly killed me? That does not make much sense now, does it? Our parents live here, and we are very close to them and love them deeply, we also love Colorado and call it "home"....so what is the deal? 

One difficult thing has been the judgment that shocked and hurt us deeply upon our return. We all have found we just don't fit in anymore. We feel like outsiders, regardless of what people do, or don't do. When we left for Swaziland our kids were young, and our teenagers where still dependant on us for everything. In Swaziland we had dinner, breakfast, and many times even lunch together as a family. Now, everyone is working, playing sports or just running. Friends and activities have taken precedence over family time. We got sucked back into the whirlwind of America in 15 seconds flat. The spiritual funk that covers this great country covered our minds and blinded our eyes in no time at all...

Attending Church is another conflict we have dealt with. Worshiping with passionate believers that are desperate and hungry for the power and presence of God is a vast contrast to most of our local mega churches. We have a hard time sitting still and listening to ear tickling messages, flashing lights, disco balls and entertainment.

If I sound pessimistic, I apologize, if I sound like a victim, forgive me....I do not feel like one. If I sound like I want to leave this Country, or do not love it, nothing could be further than the truth....I would gladly lay down my life to serve this Land.  The only way I can explain it is this; for 14 months we saw life through the eyes of the sick, the poor, the orphan and the widow. Now, our eyes can not see life any other way. This does not make us special, blessed, or better than, in fact I would not wish how I feel on anyone....it is painful, very painful. At the same time, I welcome the pain, and I wouldn't remove this pain from my children even if I could, it is making them who they are. I am thankful for the pain, and I want to use it for the Kingdom, for His Glory. 

 

Despite the war, our family is still very close, if not closer because we are all in this together. We gather in our home several times a week with other "messy" believers who crave relationship over religion, and most of the people that fill our home are broken in the same way we are. Most of them, like us, just want Kingdom, but feel a little lost, and sometimes confused as to what that looks like in America. No, I do not think the grass is greener, I just know this Tribe is different now; we have been changed and will never be the same..... I think that is what is supposed to happen when you breathe the stench of death into your lungs, when you hold the forgotten in your arms. You realize how helpless you really are, and cry out for Mercy from the Throne of Grace to save those who can't save themselves.....no, I guess I wouldn't change a thing, after all...

Thirteen years ago on a cold gray day in November I stood in a cemetery with my brother-in- law Chuck, his son Tyler and my two tiny daughters. We stood there bracing ourselves against the wind, and physically holding each other up. The tears streamed down the faces of my brother and I, the children just shy of 5, 4, and 3 looked up at us, confused, and a little frightened to see us so upset. We watched in disbelief and horror as they lowered the body of our beloved John into the frozen ground....we stayed until they filled in the dirt, slowly we walked to our cars, and drove to our own houses, that no longer seemed like homes. The shock of the sudden and tragic death of a perfectly healthy 30 year old man, full of the spirit of God, and overflowing with abundance of life and joy.....literally destroyed us all. John's parents, his sister (Rhonda), his twin brother and I could not look past our grief enough to lean on each other for support a healing. Instead, the pain turned us against each other, and within a year I picked up what was left of myself, my life and my dreams, packed up my babies and headed west.

 Over the next five years I cried, grieved, wailed and broke things. I ran and hiked, I fasted and I prayed, I literally ate scripture in desperation, and slowly God healed parts of my heart I did not even know were broken. I loved my job, my family, my mountains and my LIFE again; however, I was always saddened by the loss of not just my young husband, but his entire family as well. John's family held the keys to his story, a story I did not join until he was 23 years old. They had a piece of the history for Alexis and Emilie; a piece I could not give them, no matter how much I loved them.

Over the past year communication with Johns family started, forgiveness was given and received, emails were exchanged, slowly relationships were restored.

Then last weekend, Rhonda called in the early morning, their mother Shelby Hunt had lost a long battle with Parkinson's disease, and went home to be with the Lord. The moment I heard the message, the Holy Spirit whispered, "you are to take the girls and go to Michigan for the funeral". It is December, not my favorite time to go North, and every extra penny goes to Christmas gifts for my kids, not to mention the girls had finals. I was sure Gary would think I was crazy, but he was fully supportive. He agreed this was important and spent hours on the phone cashing in air-miles, and securing a rental car, I called schools, talked to teachers, and this last Saturday we were off to Detroit. Rhonda wept when she hugged the girls now young ladies, the last time she saw them they where preschoolers with "mushroom" haircuts. I cried when I hugged her as well, we both whispered, "I love you"....and we both knew it was more true than it had ever been. The reunion with Alexis and Emilie and their grandfather was by far the most emotional for all of us, not a dry eye in the house. Ron, just losing his wife of 50 years was holding his grand-daughters for the first time in over 10 years. I had always deeply loved my father in law, he was a proud, hard working man, yet faithful and strong like few men I have ever known. Few people knew the cross that Ron had carried tending to his wife the last 14 years; he is a hero to me in a much deeper way now. Ron fed, bathed, carried, and dressed his wife, he honored his covenant and wedding vows to the very end, and I wish him much rest and peace as he heals from yet another great loss.

 The girls loved their time with their "new-old" family; they were truly celebrated, just for being Alexis and Emilie. Any shame or confusion over the death of their birth father was dispelled, and for the first time in their lives they heard over and over what a great man their dad was, and how deeply he loved them, from so many others, not just their mother. We didn't just get our family back, but their wonderful spouses, and beautiful cousins, Kara, Tyler and now Chuck's three year old son.....little John!
I stood again in the freezing snow in a dark cemetery, staring at the grave of my first love, with a new mound of dirt next to him; Shelby was buried next to her sweet son. I think she would be proud, this time Chuck, his wife Angel, Tyler (now much taller than me), Alexis, Emilie and baby John stood together, united against the snow and the wind as a family, now and always....