Inspirational Story

Fearless

Martha Brehm / Big Stories, Encouraging, Inspirational Story / Breast Cancer, Fear / 17 Comments

June 23, 2020

It is way too easy in life, to look back and see all the ways we could have done things differently. But in the middle of a crisis, the flurry of emotion and exhaustion often mixes together into a massive cloud of confusion. Our ability to see things clearly seems to evaporate and we run to hide behind something or someone or even within ourselves. But hiding is never the answer; neither is fear.

Tracy and I sat outside the coffee shop talking. The weather was strange for late May, somewhat cool and intermittently misting. Some people may have thought us odd for sitting outside at the time. A national pandemic, however, makes people do somewhat crazy things. At one point, the conversation was revolving around the feeling that we could have handled some situations better in the past. Everyone knows and attests to the saying, “No one’s perfect,” yet we all expect ourselves to be. Once again, a type of craziness in which we all seem to take part.

For me, I encountered that feeling a few years ago. Dental work threw me into a major TMJ crisis without being able to talk or eat much at all for months and months. Looking back, I wish I could have handled things better. At the time, I was just trying to hang on and wasn’t doing a great job of even that.

Tracy’s encounter with “I wish I could have handled things better,” was a more current situation. It involved the difficult task of her telling others that she needed help and ultimately allowing those people to help her. We all want to be on the giving side, but nobody wants to be on the receiving side. Once again, more craziness but we all do it. It must stem from pride or maybe even fear of how people view us. Fear is a powerful enemy. Tracy knew this from experience. Twelve years ago, when we met, I watched Tracy win her first major round with fear.

I should first say, Tracy is one of the strongest people I know. I have never seen her back away from anything difficult. She is one of those people who walks in the room and appears to have everything together. Calm, collected, forthcoming, and genuine. This is someone who you would never imagine had to work to overcome fear. Perhaps that highlights the point I want to make. We all have to work to overcome fear. Some of us just have to work a little harder.

A little over 12 years ago, Tracy was diagnosed with breast cancer. When we first met, my friend had just completed chemo and was beginning radiation. Rarely did she miss our once-a-week study group. Despite having two small children, just finishing chemo, and in the midst of radiation, every week Tracy appeared on time and beautifully put together. She’d arrive with her lesson completed, a wig on, and a smile on her face. This happened week after week after week. That is, until out of the blue one Thursday Tracy arrived – on time, lesson done, but no wig. Her smile was still present and in fact, may have been a little bigger.

Practically everyone there immediately responded with the type of responses girls do. Things like, “I love your hair!”

“Your hair is so cute!”

“You look adorable!”

Things like those. And they were true. Tracy’s hair was her own, super short but hers.

Later that day, several of us ate lunch together. It was a “share your personal stuff” kind of lunch. Conversations with friends about what’s going on behind the scenes and how you really feel. It was then Tracy shared some of the things that had prompted the removal of the wig. I remember her talking about fear. Fear that the cancer might come back. Fear that she wouldn’t be there for her kids or her husband. Living with the constant fear of having to go through it all again. She didn’t want to stay where she was, but at the same time, afraid to move forward. Stuck in some limbo land, wondering if there was a future.

Tracy said she had made the decision to stop being afraid on Easter. She wasn’t going to fear the future anymore. Instead, she was going to walk straight forward into it. She felt like she had been hiding inside the wig, afraid to come out. That day, the hiding was over. The wig came off and fear went down. This isn’t to say wearing a wig is wrong. It’s not about the wig, it’s about hiding. The thing you’re hiding behind? That’s what needs to go. Fear can be defeated, it just takes courage.

Fear can paralyze us. It grows in the darkness. Permeates our thoughts. And it becomes more ominous the more we focus on what it is we fear. Fear can consume people. Perhaps that is why Jesus said over and over, “Do not fear.” He talked about it with groups, said it to individuals directly, and even covered the topic in parables. Jesus knew we would have to face things which would cause us to fear, but still he said, “Don’t be afraid.”

In his message on fear, Andy Stanley put it this way, “You don’t have to be afraid, even when there’s something to be afraid of.” It sounds crazy, but in this case it isn’t. As Franklin D. Roosevelt said, “We have nothing to fear but fear itself.” Life puts us in some pretty scary situations and being consumed by fear will only make matters worse. Whether it’s COVID19, unemployment, losing someone you love or something you have, life can be brutally scary. Jesus acknowledged we’d be in fear-provoking situations, but he also said we could still choose not to fear. And the reason He gave? “Because I am with you.”

I think it is a little like a child walking through the woods late at night. It’s dark, it’s alarming, and it’s potentially dangerous. But in the presence of a parent, the child can take hold of their hand, and make the journey without being afraid. They believe the parent can handle whatever they encounter and will get them safely through the scary woods to the other side. Jesus holds out his hand to us and makes the same offer.

The account of the disciples in the boat is always a favorite of mine. Twelve men, one small boat, middle of the night, wind buffeting, storm raging, hours of rowing – sounds eerily similar in ways to some of our own trials. When out of the darkness, they see Jesus on the water. “They were terrified,” is how the NIV reads. Jesus’ response? “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

I’m always encouraged that his response wasn’t to belittle the men and tell them to muster up some courage. Instead He says, “Take courage.” One of the definitions in Merriam-Webster for the word ‘take’ is “to transfer into one’s own keeping.” Jesus has courage and extends the offer to transfer some. We just need to take it from him. Whatever it is you are afraid of, you don’t have to be afraid any more.

So take courage. Tracy has. Even though round one in the battle of fear ended several years ago, Tracy was diagnosed with breast cancer again nine months ago. This time it is a different type of breast cancer. After the biopsy, the pathology results came back triple negative, requiring a much more difficult treatment course.

And there we sat, full circle in many ways. Just as when I first met her, Tracy was in the middle of radiation following her chemo. And there we were having lunch, the kind where you “share your personal stuff.” But this time fear didn’t get invited. I saw no fear in Tracy, although I’m certain the temptation remains. What I did see was the strong desire to never go back into hiding. The desire to live life well no matter what lies ahead. The hope is she will continually say yes to help, but always say no to fear. That, my friends, is courage. And I’m certain I know who it came from.

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I prayed to the LORD, and he answered me. He freed me from all my fears. Ps 34:4 NLT

Even when I go through the darkest valley, I fear no danger, for You are with me; Your rod and staff – they comfort me. Ps 23:4 HCSB

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10 NIV

For God has not given us a spirit of fearfulness, but one of power, love and sound judgement. 2 Tim 1:7 HCSB

So I took courage because I was strengthen by Yahweh my God. Ezra 7:28 HCSB

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete not lacking anything. James 1:2-4

When the disciples saw him walking on the water, they were terrified…… But Jesus spoke to them at once. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Take courage. I am here!” Matthew 14:26,27 NLT

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For all the great pictures of Tracy’s story, head to the Picture Page!

Check out the Pinterest Pins for Fearless too! Click here.

Messy In The Middle

Martha Brehm / Big Stories, Hope, Inspirational Story, Messy / 7 Comments

January 25, 2019

I’ve waited to do this story on Mike for quite some time. Why have I been waiting? Because I love happy endings. The nice tidy ones where everything falls into place and the underdog wins. The kind where what seems to be impossible happens and everybody walks away thinking the world is a wonderful place. So I’ve been waiting for the happy ending to come along for Mike. The problem is, it hasn’t yet. And it’s awfully messy in the middle.

My first encounter with Mike was about ten years ago. Standing in the kitchen area of a local homeless shelter, I began a conversation with a man with bright blue eyes and sandy brown hair. He told me, among other things, that his name was Michael. As the conversation came to an end, he asked, “Can I use your phone?” Taking my phone from my jacket, I gave it to the man and then watched him round the corner and head outside. After about ten minutes, I began seriously doubting that I would see my phone again. Looking back now, saying “yes” probably wasn’t the wisest thing. But in the end, there came Mike back in the door of the shelter with phone in hand. I gave him my phone number when I left that day and thus began the beautiful friendship of two very different people.

A month or two later, while watching my son’s baseball game, I received a call from Mike. His voice was stressed and erratic and I knew instantly something was terribly wrong. Mike unraveled a story about someone trying to kill him and that there was no safe place to go. In the messy chaos of the moment, one of his conclusions was that he should kill himself to avoid being caught. The odd contrast of our situations vividly stands out as I remember that moment – me at a sunny baseball park enjoying a high school game and Mike in some dark drug area of town hiding alone. The experience could be summed up as two totally separate worlds colliding on a cool spring day.

Not long after, Mike asked me to drive him to a court hearing in a town 40 minutes away. I’m not sure why I decided to take on that task, but I did. My friend Patti, who was no stranger to risky encounters, immediately chimed in that she would go as well. Later she told me she merely went for my protection. (And yes, I’m thankful to have friends who have my back when I am naive!) The road trip reminded me a bit of a scene from Thelma and Louise. Honestly, we had a “rip roaring” good time. Remembering the trip, I would judge that was probably one of the things that cemented our friendship. That and the jail visit where Mike came to the glass wearing an orange and white striped outfit three times too big. Despite the messy circumstances, we couldn’t stop laughing. I featured a snapshot of Mike, Patti and me at a roadside diner on our trip but unfortunately don’t have one of Mike in the jail jumpsuit. On second thought, that’s probably fortunate for Mike.

The last ten years have flown by and I’ve not infrequently received calls from Mike similar to his first. Typically, I tell him that no one is trying to kill him. He says they are. It’s possible he’s right. After all, Mike’s been involved on both sides of the drug scene for quite a few years and has enemies. And it’s true that the people he claims are after him actually have murdered some people. Who’s to say? At the same time, I also realize he has schizophrenia, so it’s messy and complicated. In the end, seeing truth with clarity is a pretty difficult thing for all of us. Sometimes a friend questioning why we see our situations as we do makes us examine things through a different lens and ultimately brings some clarity. A little at a time, Mike and I are both working on seeing things a little clearer.

The past has a way of coloring how we see the future. It’s true for Mike, and for all of us. His early years were filled with terrible stories caused by the actions of an abusive mom and step-dad. Trying to escape home, Mike spent quite a few days in and out of Juvie Hall. I know without a doubt, had some of his early experiences happened to me, I would not have made it through. He did. As a result, Mike is resourceful, tough and brave. In the years after that, he had six felonies, cycled in and out of jail and served some time in prison. Despite a pretty difficult road, Mike managed to keep his sense of humor and is still one of the funniest people I know.

Up until now in the story, your picture of Mike is likely jaded by my disclosure of him being a felon, an addict, and a schizophrenic. If those are the only facts you knew about my friend, you would miss the most extraordinary parts. He is able to acknowledge his faults and accept responsibility for his mistakes. In that aspect, I wish we were all a little more like Mike. He is humble and grateful; thoughtful and kind. And Mike is a great listener. In one of the most difficult periods of my life, I could call Mike and cry on the phone. There was never any judgement, no inkling that he thought my problems were trivial to his (even though they were). There was only the sympathetic ear of a great friend who was willing to hangout with me in a really dark, messy place. That’s what a true friend does. Isn’t it surprising, some of the most unlikely people and most difficult situations, lead to your most precious memories? There is no doubt in my mind, if I needed something, Mike would move heaven and earth to help me. And I would do the same for him.

One year for his birthday, Mike came over for dinner. In our conversation a few weeks later, he said something that will always stay with me. “Growing up I saw families like yours on T.V. My family wasn’t like that and none of my friends had families like that. I didn’t think they really existed. I thought they were just made up until I saw yours.” At the time Mike spoke those words, I remember being heartbroken over the number of people whose homes are filled with anger, violence and isolation. Perhaps Mike’s words are why I remain committed in reaching out to people who feel like they don’t belong. The conversation came to an end that day with Mike’s final words, which I will always treasure, “Thanks for inviting me to be part of your family.”

I too am thankful, thankful our worlds collided and I said yes to that road trip all those years ago. We’ve been on a road trip ever since. Sometimes there’s been laughter and sometimes there’s been heated discussions. The journey has been filled with sweet highs and heartbreaking lows. Most of the time, Mike is clean – but sometimes he’s not. Most of the time, he has a job – but he can lose it easily. Most of the time, he can deal with the schizophrenia – but sometimes he can’t. We just happen to still be in the messy middle right now.

One thing I know for sure – he is not the same man I met ten years ago. Michael has changed. Somewhere along the journey, he learned how to trust. Now, he actively tries to make the right decisions and do the right thing, even if he isn’t always successful in it. But who is? He learned how to love and how to be a good friend. Maybe the joy really is in the journey, because I am not the same woman either. I’m different, because he became my friend. Mike taught me that being a good friend doesn’t mean you fix someone else’s problems for them, you just love them in the messy middle.

So, perhaps this story is really for all of us who are still in the messy middle, or know someone who is. It’s good to realize we aren’t the only ones. Most of all, this is a story about celebrating progress even before there’s a nice happy ending. For Mike, I really believe there will be a happy ending. I’m sure of it. We just haven’t arrived there yet. So here’s to a new year! Let’s all celebrate the progress we have already made. And soon, may we all find ourselves in happy endings.

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Galatians 6:9 NIV

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. Romans 5:3-5 NLT

That’s why we live with such good cheer. You won’t see us drooping our heads or dragging our feet! Cramped conditions here don’t get us down. They only remind us of the spacious living conditions ahead. It’s what we trust in but don’t yet see that keeps us going. Do you suppose a few ruts in the road or rocks in the path are going to stop us? When the time comes, we’ll be plenty ready to exchange exile for homecoming. 2 Cor 5:6 Msg

Know that I’m on your side, right alongside you. You’re not in this alone. Colossians 2:1 Msg

For all the great pictures of Mike’s story, head to the picture page!

Check out the Pinterest Pins for Messy In The Middle as well! Click here.

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"All these pieces they fall in line
Because I'm forever on your side 
Take my hand when you can't see the light
Cause I'm forever on you side
Oh, I don't know
What's around the bend
Oh, all I know
Is that my love, it knows no end."   NEEDTOBREATHE

Forever On Your Side by NEEDTOBREATHE

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"And after all that we've been through. And after all we left in pieces.
I still believe the best is yet to come."    RED

Best I Yet To Come by RED

bride and her father about to walk down the aisle

A Father’s Love

Martha Brehm / Big Stories, Father, Inspirational Story, Love / 28 Comments

January 31, 2018

The closer something is to your heart, the more difficult it is to tell the story. Perhaps that is because those memories are held and treasured in a place where love guards the door. For that reason, this may be a difficult story to tell because this particular story is about someone I love very much. It is about my father. No one had a greater impact on my life then he did. Dad would be turning 97 on the 20th of January and I am turning 59 tomorrow on the 15th. Since we shared January as our birthday month, it seemed like the perfect time to share his story. It is a story about life and death and life.

LIFE – My father’s name was John Richard Smithson. His physical description would be average height, slender, with dark hair and blue eyes. He loved history, geography and politics and was the best person possible to have on your team for Trivial Pursuit. He grew up in a small town during the depression and was an only child. He didn’t invest much effort on school work, but managed to graduate from junior college. His father died when he was 19, preventing Dad from pursuing any further college courses. The finances just weren’t there. Soon after, the war broke out and he joined the Navy where he was first a navigator and then a pilot.

When the war ended, he finished college on the GI Bill, then completed pharmacy school and began working at a small pharmacy in his old hometown. Just as life seemed to be settling down, he came to the conclusion that what he really wanted to be was a doctor. So Dad took a few needed courses and mailed off his application to medical school. Back then, there was an age limit which you couldn’t exceed to be accepted to the Oklahoma College of Medicine. He was on the brink of being too old and only had one opportunity to apply.

Dad didn’t get accepted that year, but they did put him on what was called the “alternate list”. An alternate would only be able to attend medical school if another student declined their initially offered spot. No one declined, but even years later my father marveled at the hand of fate that year. For some reason, the Oklahoma State Legislators voted additional funds to enlarge the class size of the medical school. Soon after, he was notified that he would be part of the upcoming class of 1955. He never forgot or stopped appreciating the fact that he somehow managed to get into that medical school class. Even after over 50 years of general practice, that small town boy who considered himself nothing special, was amazed that he was fortunate enough to be a physician. He just thought of himself as lucky. I believe it was providence, along with some humility on my father’s part.

Funny and kind are two words that described my dad. I would also say my father was competitive, which would apply to everyone in my family. From the time I was little, we played games. Not just any games, but games where someone won and the rest lost. With brothers who were 6 and 12 years older than me, it wasn’t all that easy to win. But Dad always tried hard to level the playing field and give me the chance to not only compete, but sometimes even win. Whether he was going to my softball games in grade school or taking home-movies of my cheerleading squad at football games (which embarrassed me beyond words), he was always cheering me on from the sidelines.

As a junior in college, I decided to apply to medical school. Doing well on tests had not been difficult for me so I didn’t bother studying for the Medical College Admissions Test at all. The evening prior, I stayed out socializing till two in the morning, arose at six and went to take the test. It was not my best performance by any means. Since I had made the decision late in the year, there was no time to retake it. In fact, despite a 3.78 grade point average and numerous college honors, I received a big fat “NO” from the two medical schools I applied at. Each one asked what happened on the MCAT in the interview. I had no good answer for them other than, “I just didn’t do well that day.” That response wasn’t good enough for either one of the schools.

I am more than aware of the numerous things my parents could have said in response to my situation. But a week after my final med school rejection, I received a letter in the mail from my dad. He said he was sorry to hear of “the turn of events” but that he was proud of my college record and the numerous things I had achieved. Then he went on to recount situations in his life, as well as the lives of my two brothers, where defeat made success seem unlikely, yet they had overcome. At the bottom of his letter was a quote by Theodore Roosevelt, which he had held onto. It captured the thought of how, ultimately, the outcome of a dark disappointment could be viewed.

“It is not the critic that counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.” As I finished reading those words, a defining moment in my life took place. My father had taught me the valuable lesson that I could fail and still be valued, still be respected, and still be loved.

DEATH – One evening, I received a call from Dad. He said in a matter-of-fact way, that he had done some lab tests on himself and it looked as though his kidneys were failing. After going through my mother’s death over 15 years earlier, he didn’t want to go through any big medical workups over something that couldn’t be changed. On the following Father’s Day, I bought him a Hallmark book that asked a question on the top of each page about his life. Dad loved to read and was a wonderful writer so he happily took on the journaling request. He had elected to just start at the beginning of his life and write the things he thought were important.

The months passed and as his health deteriorated, Dad elected to do dialysis. The nurses at the dialysis unit were beyond sweet to him and I will always be thankful for their kind care. That gratitude extends to the numerous friends and patients (many were both) who brought him meals, checked on him, and included him in their lives. Once when I was home with him, I asked him how the Father’s Day book was coming. Dad’s response was a little surprising to me.

He said that it had given him insight and that the more he wrote, the clearer things became for him. As he worked on recording the events, he began to see how they all interconnected and built on each other. For the first time he said he could see God’s hand at each and every step along the way, opening one door and closing others. That was a pretty novel thing for him to say because we didn’t really talk much about God when I was growing up. We went to church mainly on Christmas and Easter and I never saw anyone reading a Bible or praying much at our house. We would have said we were Christians, but I don’t think that was accurate. He once told me years later, he had thought religion was a joke until mom died. After that, he didn’t think it was a joke anymore. And now his own death loomed close at hand. Which leads us to the heart of the story.

LIFE – Even after a golden anniversary of practicing medicine, Dad still continued to see occasional patients up until the week he died. Through good times and hard times, his office was still his favorite place to be. And I believe he gave other people life, or at least better lives.

One evening, he began sharing some of the highlights of his own life with me. We had stayed up late, which he loved to do, watching a movie. When the show ended, I was exhausted and ready to head to bed. Dad laid down on the couch and pulled a blanket up, snuggling it around his neck. His eyes were mostly closed when I went over to give him a kiss goodnight. When I sat down beside him and whispered goodnight, he began softly talking. At first I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or if he was talking in his sleep. It was like he was narrating a movie of his life that was playing in his mind. He talked about specific things that happened all through his life, very much like the Father’s Day book he was writing for me.

As he neared the end, Dad paused and a sigh passed through his lips. Then he said with sadness, “I have some regrets.” He named a few things, and at the time, I remember thinking to myself, “I’m not sure I really want to be here for this.” But I am so glad I was. Because sometimes the ugly only serves to make the good more beautiful. As he finished talking about one of his regrets, Dad immediately followed it with a statement that seemed to whisk it all away. “But I heard Reverend Scott say, that because of what Jesus did on the cross, my sins are forgiven – in the past, and the present and the future. And when he said that, it made sense to me, and I believe it to be true.” He stopped talking after that and drifted off to sleep with a calm that settled over him.

As I went up to bed, it struck me how simple and short the Gospel can really be. My father had expressed it in a few short words. Nothing fancy or difficult, but still profound. Two days later, he died. But not really. Because the life that is in him doesn’t end. Over 2,000 years ago, Jesus asked Martha a question about death. He said to her,”I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” Martha’s response was, “Yes.” My response is the same. Because of the Gospel, death is swallowed up in victory and the mortal become immortal.

As the years have moved quickly by, the appreciation for the things my father taught me has grown. Most importantly, he showed me how to love well. In fact, it was easy for me to comprehend a God who loved unconditionally because I had known what that was like. The Scripture that says, “We love because He first loved us,” makes perfect sense to me. But for those of you who didn’t grow up with a father like that, I want you to know that you really do have one. He’s always loved you. He always will. Just look up and you’ll find Him.

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Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous, it does not brag, and it is not proud. Love is not rude, is not selfish, and does not get upset with others. Love does not count up wrongs that have been done. Love takes no pleasure in evil but rejoices over the truth. Love patiently accepts all things. It always trusts, always hopes, and always endures. Love never ends. 1 Cor 13:4-8a

I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor ruling spirits, nothing now, nothing in the future, no powers, nothing above us, nothing below us, nor anything else in the whole world will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39

So this body that can be destroyed will clothe itself with that which can never be destroyed, and this body that dies will clothe itself with that which can never die. When this happens, this Scripture will be made true: “Death is destroyed forever in victory.” 1 Cor 15:54

But God shows his great love for us in this way: Christ died for us while we were still sinners. Romans 5:8

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Check out the Pinterest Pins for “A Father’s Love” by clicking here.

You can find the pictures of Dad, my family and other fun things on the Picture Page by clicking here.

A Better Tomorrow

Martha Brehm / Big Stories, Comeback, Encouraging, Hope, Inspirational Story / 6 Comments

August 13, 2017

Some days are better than others. This particular day was hectic and busy. But as I passed by the school superintendent’s office, I couldn’t help but take a left and head in to say hi. Misty, the superintendent’s secretary, was at her desk, which was covered with papers. The phone was ringing, papers were flying, and she appeared to be hard at work. Misty was one of my favorite people to visit. It is unusual in this world to find someone who both takes the time and has the ability to make you feel welcome and wanted. Misty is one of those people and I loved seeing her. Almost every morning as people came in and out of the office, she typically had something encouraging to say with a smile on her face. But on this specific morning, her usual smile wasn’t quite the same and she looked discouraged. She appeared to be someone who needed not only a better tomorrow, but a better today.

Misty’s past several years had been exceedingly difficult. She was a mom with two kids, in a marriage that was falling apart. She was separated from her husband with no home and not much income. As is so often true, the word complicated didn’t quite do the situation justice. Misty and her kids were staying temporarily at her friend, Janet’s house while looking for something permanent. The problem was that she didn’t have her own home and didn’t see much hope of getting one anytime soon. For some reason, on that particular day, the discouragement, disappointment, and darkness seemed to hang over her like a cloud. As we all know so well, when we find ourselves in the middle of a difficult, lingering, ugly mess, all it takes is just one more thing to push us over the edge….some little thing at work that doesn’t go as planned, a phone call you didn’t want or expect, a hurtful word during a conversation, …. the list goes on. Whatever had happened that day, my heart broke for my friend.

As Misty and I talked, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Behind and to the left of her desk was the door into the superintendent’s office, which was typically closed. That morning, the door was ajar and I saw Dr. Rhea’s hand motioning for me to come into his office. Dr. Rhea was the superintendent of the school as well as a wonderful friend. He appeared tall and slender with glasses and whitish grey hair. This was a man who beautifully managed the fine line of being in charge while still being warm and friendly.

When a break came in my conversation with Misty, I mentioned that I wanted to say hi to Dr. Rhea and moved toward his door. As I walked into his office, I couldn’t help but notice the huge grin on his face. In fact, even now it makes me laugh. As my mom used to say, he looked like “the cat who ate the canary!” Before I could say a word, he motioned for me to close the door and have a seat. I didn’t think the grin could get much bigger, but it did, and his eyes twinkled, making him look a little like Santa. Words started pouring out of his mouth with excitement as he described the “big surprise”.

Apparently, a couple who knew Misty’s situation, had just purchased a new house across the street from their old one. Rather than move into their new home, they decided to give it to Misty rent free, unconditionally, for as long as she needed it. They gathered together a group of friends and remodeled it, preparing it just as if they were moving in themselves. That group of friends had been spending long evenings working at the house getting the remodel complete. They sacrificed time and money and did it all with unselfish love. The plan and the work had been done in secret and Misty didn’t have a clue. One of the members of the group had confided in Dr. Rhea about the secret and now the time was at hand to reveal the surprise. The very next day, a meeting had been arranged between Misty and her friends at the remodeled house. It was then and there that Misty would be given the good news that the house was her’s — rent-free to move into whenever she wanted. That’s a pretty nice surprise and some pretty nice friends. As Dr. Rhea finished telling me the details, the last thing he said was, “But don’t let Misty know, it’s a surprise.”

Walking back out of his office, I saw Misty still sitting there in her chair. I knew how unhappy, discouraged, and hopeless she was in her situation. Misty had no idea that the house she so desperately needed today, truly would be her’s tomorrow. I longed to tell her it was going to be ok, that she didn’t need to be sad, that tomorrow really would be better, and in fact, not just better, but extraordinary. I wanted to say that she could trust me because I knew what the future held and that she just needed to hang on a little longer. It was such an odd feeling – being part of her sadness and uncertainty in that moment, but also being aware of the joy and excitement that was soon to come. It is a perspective we aren’t often able to have because we rarely know what tomorrow brings. But there is One who knows quite well what that perspective is like. He knows the end from the beginning. He sees each one of our difficulties today and at the same time knows the resolutions in our tomorrows. His heart is for each one of us to know the very things I wanted to tell Misty. And to you, and each one of us, He says, do not lose heart, never give up.

When I get to the end of my life and look back, I’m sure there will be parts I will enjoy remembering so much more because I will know how it ends. All the stress and anxiety will be gone and I will be able to see it with clarity knowing how all the pieces fit together. The difficult part of the here and now is trusting that there is a bigger picture that lends meaning and relevance to the trials we face. And in the end, I trust the Master Planner. It was Jesus himself who said, “In this world you will have trouble.” But he also knows the ending of your story and adds, “but take heart, I have overcome the world.” The following day was an overcoming day for Misty. Her friends surprised her with a beautiful rent-free home and even today, she remembers that as one of the most unforgettable days of her life. So for all of us in the midst of what seems like hopeless situations, just like Misty, your tomorrow may hold the answers to your problems today. And Jesus promises to those who follow him, he is lovingly preparing a beautiful rent-free home for us as well. So relax, because the best is yet to come.

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“So we’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace.” 2 Cor 4:16 MSG

“There are many rooms in my Father’s house. I wouldn’t tell you this, unless it was true. I am going there to prepare a place for each of you. After I have done this, I will come back and take you with me. Then we will be together.” John 14:2-4 CEV

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

“Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.” Psalms 30:5

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A few Pinterest pins for “A Better Tomorrow.”

For more “A Better Tomorrow” Pinterest Pins, click on this link.

Don’t forget to watch the videos!

Miracles Never Cease

Martha Brehm / Big Stories, Inspirational Story, Miracles, Prayer, True Charity Initiative / 2 Comments

June 24, 2017

Miracles still happen. They can happen with unexpected timing and in unexpected places. Miracles can happen on any old day.

One specific “any old day” a few years ago, I went to a weekend conference called True Charity Initiative put on by James and Marsha Whitford. During the first session Friday evening, I glanced over the dimly-lit room and thought I saw Rick. His wife Theresa was one of my friends whom I had met in a women’s group several years earlier. The man I saw that night wore a dark colored overcoat, but in the poor lighting it was difficult to tell whether or not it was Rick. As I sat studying the man, the program began and I had to shift my attention over to the speaker who had stepped up to the podium and was beginning his talk. Later that night, when I looked back across the audience, the man in the overcoat was gone. Even after the conference ended, I searched the foyer outside but there was still no sign of the man in the overcoat I had seen earlier.

On following day, I managed to arrive early (which is a miracle in itself) for the Saturday morning sessions. Coffee and snacks had been placed out in the foyer and groups of people were already conversing around them. I made my way to the food, filling a small plate and then grabbing some coffee. As I stood there with food in hand, I heard someone say hello as they placed a hand on my shoulder. Turning around, there stood before me the man in the overcoat from the previous night.

Close up and in good lighting, it was easy to tell it was Rick. He asked if I had talked to Theresa recently. I honestly admitted that I had not. Upon learning that, he smiled and said, “We have had a miracle.”

“Great!! I love miracles!!” I responded. “Tell me about it.”

Rick just continued looking at me and repeated what he had said, but in a slightly different way. This time he said, “God did a miracle.” His facial expressions told me no further information was coming so we stood there in a moment of silence.

As I looked at the man in front of me, I began to notice there was something different. At first, I wasn’t sure, but then I looked into his eyes and I knew. “You’re the miracle,” I said. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

A huge smile came over his face as he replied, “It is.” Then he added, “Theresa told me that the two of you had asked for a miracle. I thought you should know, He answered.”

Now to understand why this was so extraordinary you’ll need a little background. Several years prior, when Theresa and I were going to our group once a week, we had made the decision to stay after each meeting and pray for Rick. In John 10:10, Jesus said his purpose in coming was to “give life – life in all its fullness.” Theresa wanted Rick to have the life that Jesus offered. So, we spent four or five minutes every Thursday asking for exactly that. But when our group ended eight months later, she hadn’t see any changes in Rick. Nothing at all.

When a scenario like this occurs, there are multiple possibilities. There are some people I know who believe there is no God. They would say we were wasting our breath – no one was listening. And there are those who believe there is a God but that He doesn’t care about what we want and doesn’t bother to pay attention. To add to the confusion, there are plenty more who believe there is a God who hears and cares but wonder why prayers seem to go unanswered. So, does asking for what we want really make a difference? Well, Jesus had some pretty interesting things to say about that.

One day Jesus’ disciples asked him to teach them how to pray. Jesus did this by giving them a sample prayer and then followed it up by telling them a story. Here’s how it goes in Luke 11:5-10 in the NIV translation – “Suppose you have a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; a friend of mine on a journey has come to me, and I have no food to offer him.’ And suppose the one inside answers, ‘Don’t bother me. The door is already locked, and my children and I are in bed. I can’t get up and give you anything.’ I tell you, even though he will not get up and give you the bread because of friendship, yet because of your shameless audacity he will surely get up and give you as much as you need. So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be open to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.”

As Jesus told this story, he chose some pretty intriguing verbs when he talked about asking. They are present imperatives which indicates an ongoing action. The Amplified Bible translates it this way – “So I say to you, ask and keep on asking, and it will be given to you; seek and keep on seeking, and you will find; knock and keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who keeps on asking [persistently], receives; and he who keeps on seeking [persistently], finds; and to him who keeps on knocking [persistently], the door will be opened.

So for Theresa and me, the fact that nothing seemed to be happening didn’t keep us from continuing to ask. We just kept asking. We knew that just because we didn’t see anything happening didn’t mean that we never would. And here I was, a few years later, coming face to face with exactly the thing for which we had prayed. Life is a miracle and Rick had found it.

Now to be clear, not everything that we ask for, even persistently, is given to us. In fact, one of my children, when they were younger, used to ask why they couldn’t get a million dollars if they kept asking. Jesus’ brother James had a response for those type of questions. He said in James 4:3, “Yet even when you do pray, your prayers are not answered, because you pray just for selfish reasons.” Perhaps that’s why Jesus said we needed to seek and keep on seeking. Because if we are truly seeking God, and keep on seeking Him, then with time our hearts begin to look and think like his. His desires and plans begin to become our desires and plans. At this point, we begin to ask for the very things God wants to bring about, and that’s a place where miracles never cease.

And what is a miracle? Miriam Webster’s definition is “an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs”. Rick understood that sometimes we can be the miracle. And what brings about miracles? Perhaps for some of them, God uses the prayers of those who doesn’t give up asking.

If you’re reading this and you’ve had a miracle in your life as a result of prayer, I’d love to hear it. Just write it in the comments. There is nothing more encouraging than to know that God is still in the business of doing extraordinary things. So, share your miracle! And if you’re needing a miracle, may this give you the hope you need to just keep asking, seeking, and knocking.

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“You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:13 NIV

“Jesus replied, ‘There are some things that people cannot do, but God can do anything.'” Luke 18:27 CEV

“He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted.” Job 5:9 NIV

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In closing, a final shout out to True Charity Initiatives. Thanks for your continued passion and hard work in addressing poverty. Check out their website at truecharity.us

Here’s a few of the Pinterest Pins that go with the story.

Click here for the rest of the great Miracles Never Cease pins on my Pinterest board.

Don’t forget to watch the videos!

In this video, each of the children film a miracle they see in their own lives. Take time to share your miracle too.

The Promise of a Dance

Martha Brehm / Big Stories, Encouraging, Faith, Healing, Inspirational Story / 0 Comments

June 13, 2016

Over 2000 years ago, Aristotle said, “A promise made must be a promise kept.” All these years later, each of us still desires that to be true. When a promise is made, we want the one who made it to keep his word. This is the story of a man who lived life believing that the one who made a promise to him was trustworthy.

My encounter with this gentleman occurred on an adventure called Missions Week. It was one of the wonderful opportunities my children participated in each spring during high school. As a freshman, my son headed to a place called Youth With A Mission in a beautiful little town called Ozark, Arkansas. It is always nice to have a pediatrician around on a school outing, so I was one of the lucky people chosen to be a chaperone. My job was to be in charge of a sweet, entertaining group of young ladies which I pictured in my featured image for this story.

Upon reaching YWAM, one of the first places the entire group was scheduled to go was a local nursing home. When we arrived, the students began visiting with the residents and then promptly set up for a performance in the large main room. The kids sang several songs and entertained the group for at least 30 minutes or more. During the show, I noticed one gentleman who was particularly thrilled with the songs and actively involved with the students who were singing. He sang from his wheelchair with a bright smile on his face, often clapping his hands along with the music and cheering at the end.

When the performance was over, I walked across the room to meet him. His name was David. When compared to the other residents in the nursing home, David was young – probably somewhere in his fifties. Also, David was without a doubt the happiest person there. That alone would be a surprise to some onlookers, since David was a double amputee confined to a wheelchair. He also had a mild intellectual disability and couldn’t speak without long pauses between his words. Yet there he sat, with a smile that lit up the room and joy that was contagious.

The two of us chatted about the songs and the kids and then about the nursing home. As our conversation was coming to an end, I noticed the chain he was wearing around his neck. A simple gold cross hung on it. I pointed to it and said, “It looks like you know my best friend!”

“Jesus?” he asked.

“Yes, Jesus,” I responded.

“I……do……know…..Jesus,” David replied.

We then began a conversation about how great Jesus is and ended by agreeing that we couldn’t wait for the day when we see Him.

Then David said something that is perhaps why he could sit in a wheelchair with no legs but still have joy bubbling out of him like a fountain. “When…..I…..see…..Jesus…..face…..to…..face……I……will……have……legs!”

Of course, I could only grin from ear to ear and nod my head in agreement. Every scar erased, every wound healed, every disappointment overcome. David saw with such clarity what so many of us miss: the reality of God’s promises. He had absolute confidence that God really would do what he has said he would. There would be no compromises, no failed attempts, and no broken promises. And because David trusted the One who made the promise, he lived with confidence that one day everything would be made right.

When I asked David who introduced him to Jesus, he said, “Janie. Janie…..told…..me..…about….. Jesus.”

“Who is Janie?” I asked.

“She’s…..my……friend.” I found out from David that Janie was a woman from a local church that had been coming to see David for quite some time.

“Janie…..comes…..every…..Sunday…..to…..talk…..to…..me…..about…..Jesus.”

I don’t know who Janie is, but she has my admiration, and I’m sure all of heaven’s applause. She takes time every week to come to a nursing home and talk to David. I love this woman! And David loves her as well. His life is different because she showed up and keeps showing up. So for whoever your “David” is, keep showing up. You’re making a difference. And if you don’t have a David, find one. There are nursing homes, schools, shelters, jails, and a thousand other places full of people who need someone to care. Janie is changing the world one person at a time. So can we.

As I said goodbye to David, he promised that when I saw him in heaven he would dance with me. Standing on two legs. I’m looking forward to that dance.

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“Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.” Hebrews 11:1 NLT

“God is no mere human! He doesn’t tell lies or change his mind. God always keeps his promises.” Numbers 23:19 CEV

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or pain. All these things are gone forever. And the one sitting on the throne said, ‘Look, I am making everything new!’ And then he said to me, ‘Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.'” Revelation 21:4-5 NLT

For the pictures for The Promise of a Dance, head to the Picture Page!

Below are a few Pinterest pins for the story. To see all the pins for this story, click on this link to head to Pinterest!

And don’t forget to watch the music videos.

It Just Takes One

Martha Brehm / Addiction, Big Stories, Encouraging, Inspirational Story, Recovery / 0 Comments

October 13, 2015

How many times have we all missed the opportunity to help someone along the way? I know for me, that has happened far too often. When I begin to think I’m unable to help or I am just too busy, I remember Stephanie. She taught me that I can never really help someone else without getting back more than I gave. Love has a way of doing that.

When I first met Stephanie, I was teaching a parenting class at the Lafayette House, a place for women recovering from substance abuse and domestic violence. She seemed distracted and agitated and it was difficult for her to stay in her seat for any length of time. After class was over, Steph came up and we talked. She walked out the door and despite the fact that I had given her my number, she never called.

About a month later, I was back at the Lafayette House and there she was, sitting in the hall alone. I saw in her a sadness that wouldn’t allow me to just walk past. As we sat and talked, she told me that she had relapsed back into her addiction. Things had seemed so hopeless that she had reached the point of trying to commit suicide. Her children had been put into foster care and there she found herself – overwhelmed, discouraged and very alone. Even at her lowest point, the woman who sat before me had a smile that radiated and a heart that was warm and open to change. And, the change began.

After leaving the Lafayette House, and a few phone calls later, Steph came to a Bible study I was teaching. Over time we became good friends and I watched Steph fight each and every day to stay clean. She has been successful in battling her addiction and now has her boys back from foster care. Through the years, she has developed an inward beauty that matches the outward beauty of her smile.

As we talked on the phone one day, Steph said something that will stay with me forever. We were discussing some of our friends who were trying to break free from addictions. Our conversation was about a couple who found themselves homeless and desperate. Their situation reminded Stephanie of all the times in the past she had found herself in similar circumstances. She thought back to the times she had nowhere to go, no one to help her, and no one who she believed cared. Thinking back to her lowest moment, she shared that her family and even her friends; basically everyone she knew, had given up on her. And then she said it. The words I will never forget. The words that seem to linger in my mind and repeat over and over. “I just needed one person to believe I could make it. Just one person!”

God did send that one person for Stephanie and now her life is different because of it. She experienced something known as “hesed” in Hebrew. Hesed is a committed, faithful love that is offered not as an obligation, but given without seeking anything in return. No expectations and no demands. It’s given in grace. And the amazing thing about grace is that once you’ve encountered it and experienced what it’s like to receive, you can’t help but give it to someone else. Having said that, I’m sure you must realize what Stephanie said next. She said, “I just needed one person to believe I could make it. Just one person. And now I want to be that one person for someone else!” She did and she continues to be.

So as I go through the day-to-day walk of life, I try to keep my eyes open. To look for the opportunity to be that “one person” for someone else. I would challenge you to do the same. The world needs fewer people looking out for themselves and more people looking out for someone else. Who is in your life that just needs “one person”? Because it just takes one.

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Romans 15:1-3 Msg “Those of us who are strong and able in the faith need to step in and lend a hand to those who falter and not do what is most convenient for us. Strength is for service, not status. Each one of us needs to look after the good of the people around us, asking ourselves, ‘How can I help?’ And that’s exactly what Jesus did. He didn’t make it easy for himself by avoiding people’s troubles, but waded right in and helped out.”

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For the pictures of Steph and her family, head to the Picture Page.

For all of the great Pinterest Pin quotes that go with the story, click here!

And don’t forget to watch the video! Then go out and help somebody.