A God Story

1. Read Psalm 66 together and then focus on verse 16. Why do you think it is important for believers to share their stories of faith with others? How can personal testimonies impact the faith of those who hear them?
2. What stood out the most to your from Melissa's story?
3. What is a significant moment in your life where you felt God's presence or intervention? How did this experience affect your faith?
4. What is one way God is working in your life right now and who else might God want you to share it with?
5. Listening to Others: Can you recall a time when someone's testimony significantly impacted or changed your perspective? What was it about their story that was so compelling?

Prayer + Practice: Practice telling your story. Click the link below and share where God has been moving in your life. Where have you seen him at work this year? After writing it out, ask God who else he might want you to share it with.

Tell Your Story

I'm so grateful for the opportunity to be here with you today. Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there and those that are celebrating the moms in their lives. This is a very special one for me. My mom, who is 82, is now living here in Texas. This is the first Mother's Day in 30 years that we'll spend together.

Today is also a very special first Mother's Day for my daughter-in-law and my son, Brian. As they gave us our first grand baby back in November. I couldn't be more thankful that God made me a mom and for all the ways he's blessing me today to give you a little background. Our family has been a part of Hillside since we moved to Texas in 2007. My boys were in first and third grade at the time.

I feel like Mother's Day is the perfect opportunity to say thank you and recognize Hillside student ministry as a pivotal part in their spiritual journeys. It is said it takes a village and it's us teachers, coaches, and neighbors. But it also takes a church family. We couldn't be more grateful for Josh Moore and Mike Bream and countless others for coming alongside our boys and mentoring them. They're grown now and are living out their faith, one involved as a youth leader at his new church in Utah and the other a baseball coach and area rep for fellowship christian athletes.

Parents, let me encourage you all those littles getting dedicated today. Your children are in amazing, wonderful hands here at Hillside. When I learned I'd be given this opportunity to speak to you today, I was so open to it because I knew I had a story to tell. A God's story. My uncle Tennessee says, aren't they all God stories?

Well, I guess they are. Even though it may not feel like it at the time, it seems often the tales we get to tell come about through hardship and in weathering a storm. I'd like to share with you what God showed in mine. In fairness, I must warn you, I can't remember ever hearing or telling a good God story without one of the following reactions from my family. Their response? "Wow, that's really cool."

This is about the pinnacle of emotion that you'll get from the male species at our house. That's when you know they've heard it, processed it, and given it the God-merit it deserves. They also usually have one or two expressions on their faces: Oh, gosh, mom is crying. Or here we go, mom's about to cry.

No matter how hard I try and I want to be a tough guy so bad I'm usually teetering right there between the two. Maybe some of you can relate. Maybe you have a crier in your family, too.

I loved when I read recently in Before You Open Your Bible by Matt Smethurst. For all of eternity, Father, son, and Holy Spirit, one God in three persons, delighted to share in the joy of divinity with one another. And then they decided to create the universe.

Why? To create more joy. The creation of the world was a spilling out, not just a filling up of joy to share with us. Well, then, what good God story wouldn't cause you to spill out a tear or two? I call that joy.

I'm going to share with you a story of a storm, some emotions I experienced, and people I encountered along the way. It's a piece of a bigger story, a lot involving my mom and a recent health struggle. That personal side belongs to her, but what I can tell you is I've witnessed a great deal of courage, fight, and determination, and I'm very proud of her. It hasn't been an easy road, but she's traveled it well. Last year at this time, the school year was winding down and I had just accepted a new position with an amazing campus.

I was also wrapping up a book project that I began in the early spring with a very talented high school graphics student as my illustrator. I was anticipating an upcoming five day trip to my hometown, Buffalo, New York, to visit family and friends. Pretty much every second of that trip was planned out as five days flies by rather quickly. My suitcase was packed for my short stay, and I was taking my book manuscript along to share for the first time. I said goodbye to my new work team.

Famous last words. I'll see you in five days. As I was landing that evening, I learned that my mom had been admitted to the hospital with double pneumonia. She'd been sick for over a week and had progressively gotten worse. The hospital wouldn't allow me to see her that night, but when I did the next day, it was very apparent she was really sick.

The doctor explained to me the seriousness of her condition and that they were doing all that they could. That Friday afternoon, I was to meet my cousin for lunch. She was my cousin by marriage and had lost her husband to cancer five years back. The last three years, she was now facing a cancer battle of her own, and she was in the final stages of a terminal diagnosis when I text her, prior to the trip, asking to go to lunch.

I got the immediate response, I would love to family. Since I was a teen, we stayed in touch periodically over the years. Ours was one of those sweet relationships that was easy, comfortable, and felt like no time had passed between visits. I always told her, you're just plain cool. And she would say, yeah, I know.

Throughout the duration of her husband's illness, I would reach out with texts and cards to let them know they were prayed for. It was a difficult road for both of them. Seeing her again was wonderful and she looked fabulous. You wouldn't even know that she was sick. She shared she was feeling tired and getting weaker and that she had just moved in with her daughter and son in law.

We talked lots about memories and I explained about my new job and the new book I had just written. I asked her if she'd like to read it. She agreed and lit up with excitement for me. I handed it to her. I went to the ladies room to give her a few minutes to read.

When I returned, she looked me in the eye and said, how did you come to know this? I don't remember you growing up or ever knowing God. This way I was able to share my testimony how real God had become in my life and the hope there is in knowing him. She said, I would love to believe in that hope, but I just don't know.

Saturday came and went and my mom's condition wasn't improving. We were scheduled to fly back to Dallas in just two days and this started weighing on me heavily. Lots of unknowns and lots of prayer. Late Sunday evening, I received a call from the night nurse at the hospital. She recognized how sick my mom was and arranged for me to sneak in through the emergency room at midnight.

When I arrived at my mom's room, the nurse said, she's been asking for you. The funny thing is, once the nurse left, my mom thought I was there to bust her out. She said, I thought you'd never get here. Let's go. That's my mom, sick and still initiating a Thelma and Louise moment.

Needless to say, it was an interesting night. The nurse stayed with me for a long while after her twelve hour shift ended. I learned about her family and her faith. Her presence was a divinely timed comfort to me. That night, I didn't see her again for the duration of my mom's stay.

As an only child living 1200 miles away, it was apparent we were going to need to stay in Buffalo longer. We were staying at a hotel nearby and we knew financially that wasn't going to work. I received a text from my cousin asking if we were planning to go back to Dallas. I told her no and immediately received this message back, "I want to give you this gift."

The rent to my apartment is paid up through the end of August. It is yours for as long as you need to stay. Kind of like an Airbnb, only free. Please let me do this for you. The next several days were spent talking with doctors and hospital personnel about palliative care.

For those of you who are unfamiliar, this term is used just prior to hospice, my mom was stable and then I received news from her doctor. We didn't expect this, but results of a chest x-ray show the pneumonia is gone. I was told she was still in a very weakened state, but there was hope. Since I know this story, I can tell you now. This was the beginning of a very long recovery process.

Throughout our stories and storms, God paves the way to what I believe are divine encounters. During the hospital stay, I learned that my first friend ever was a patient just on the other side of the wall. We met riding our big wheels prior to kindergarten and had been friends throughout high school. We lost touch when I married 30 years ago and moved away. I had heard she faced many tough situations over the years and had lost several loved ones to very difficult illnesses.

When I walked into her room, it was as if 30 years peeled away. It was great to see her. I told her I was sorry she was sick and she didn't share details. When I said I'd be praying for her, she said, I heard that you do that. I saw that on Facebook.

I asked her if she talked to God and teary eyed, she said no, not in a very long time. I asked if she wanted to talk about it and she said no. Leaving the hospital that evening, I popped in to see how she was doing. I told her I had just finished a book project and asked if she'd like something to read. We visited the next day and unsure of how many more meetings we'd have, I told her, God sees you and he loves you very much.

She said, your book is beautiful.

Once stabilized and clear of pneumonia, my mom was transferred to a rehab facility where she would spend the next several weeks. I chose that location because it is where my grandmother spent the final years of her life and I knew it would be a comfortable place for my mom. I learned the sister of a close friend from high school was a resident there in long term care. Diagnosed with MS in her early adult years, I knew she had married and had children on the day of my mom's transfer. No coincidence she'd be the first person I would see on the outside terrace just beside the entrance door.

She was sitting in her wheelchair with her eyes closed and her face turned toward the sun. She didn't recognize me at first, but as we spoke, she lit up. Her brother and my husband were really good friends in high school. We talked a while and she shared a bit about her life. There was a peace in her eyes and a contentment in her voice.

She had made the decision to be where she was. She was a light, one that I really needed at the doorway of a place not easy to enter. We talked often over those weeks, and I look forward to seeing her. I'm thankful that I get to carry that sweet vision of her smile in my heart. She continues to be an inspiration to me because in a difficult circumstance, she intentionally chooses joy.

I occasionally come across devotionals and books that remind me of her, and I send them her way. I look forward to that publishing day. When it's my book, I get to send. The part of my story you've heard thus far is what I like to call in the daylight, but the nighttime is a piece much harder to tell. Maybe some of you can relate.

The days were busy, filled with complex life rearranging options. For my mom, I was in work mode most of the time. This was helpful in a way, because it kept me distracted from fear. My husband could see I was not myself, and he was great about insisting we take time out to detach. I'm sure he was telling my boys, pray for mom because.

Because the phone calls I received were ones of great concern for their grandmother and for me. I remember waking with my heart racing and finding it hard to breathe. Many nights I would pace and try to pray, but even that was difficult. I was so overwhelmed, and I felt so responsible to do everything right. It's so hard when you can't see an inch in front of your face.

There's no question, though, that God was providing all things through my storm. In those dark nights, I was embraced by the peaceful surroundings of my cousin's apartment. What a precious gift she so graciously gave me in the final months of her life. Even within her storm, our conversations became more filled with the hope of heaven than despaired. It doesn't always feel like it, but in our chaos, God's sovereign order still remains.

He is faithful, and he will deliver you. I've had this conversation more than once with friends in the heat of their own "I can't breathe" moments when I look at them, I can feel their pain. It's almost as if looking in a mirror to how I felt months ago. But I can tell them he is faithful and he will deliver you a very timely revelation.

I learned in these weeks that the Bible says "fear not" 365 times, one for each day. Just knowing this was, for me, daily manna. Fear can be paralyzing, unhealthy, and breeds hopelessness, but we do not have a hopeless God. Romans 15:4 tells us, "For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us so that through the endurance taught in the scriptures and the encouragement they provide, we might have hope." Maybe you have known and carried heavy weight on your shoulders. In our humanness, we naturally analyze and act upon what we can see.

But in the deepest of storms, darkest of night, it is faith and fixation on the Lord that navigates us through. This is when you truly realize he is in control. Jesus words in Matthew 11:28-30, "take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." We were not created, nor are we equipped to do any part of this life without him.

In her book Embracing Trust, Joanna Weaver says, When it comes down to it, unshakable faith cannot be fully formed until it is shaken. Absolute trust in God appears only when everything else has been stripped away. God allows our lives to be shaken, according to Hebrews 12:27, so that only unshakable things will remain. On a recent hike with my son in the mountains of Utah, I couldn't help but think of all the trust parallels this experience shared with the past months. He told me, bring shoes you don't mind ruining.

So I threw an old pair of running shoes in the suitcase. We reached the base of the trail. Shawn parked, and he put on special hiking shoes. It had rained several days prior, and he explained it wasn't a difficult trail. About a mile and a half to the top.

We started out with me leading and Shawn behind making small talk. I admit I had a little trouble focusing on conversation. The trail was muddy and narrow, so my brain was just trying to figure out where my feet should go. As we continued on, it got a little steeper and I found myself getting out of breath. He did mention that the increased elevation would be a challenge.

I was struggling quite a bit, sliding in the mud, and I'd occasionally grab onto whatever I could find. There was a notable drop off to one side, so I pretended it wasn't there. Finally, Shawn said, how about I go ahead of you, watch my feet and follow my footsteps? That was an easy yes. What a huge difference it made having someone to follow.

Every now and then, I'd say, let's stop a second. The interesting thing is, if you just keep going, you never get a chance to see where you are or how far you've come. Sometimes in the most difficult of treks, there is beauty there waiting to be seen. But continuous work mode robs us of that blessing. When we made it to the top, the view was absolutely breathtaking.

It was early morning, so the air was crisp and still. It was the most calming feeling I could remember having in a long time. Almost as if I could inhale the peace surrounding me. Having someone to guide me to the top changed everything. Two simple words, "Follow me," changed everything, too. Amazing how those words, the words Jesus offers to us, can change our lives. I love this verse in Deuteronomy 31:8, "It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you. He will not fail or abandon you. Do not fear or be dismayed."

I can't imagine the story I'd be telling without the amazing gift of community. Three main things stood out to me. You need people to pray you through, to walk you through, and to push you through.

So, in a nutshell, we need God and we need others. Words can't express how much it meant to get phone calls and text messages from friends. So timely and always encouraging. I'm blessed beyond measure to have friends that constantly reached out. Please know if you feel the Holy Spirit nudging you, reach out to a person who is struggling. I've been guilty at times of thinking I don't want to bother them with all that they're going through. Remember, kindness is never a bother. It is a blessing. Some of the sweetest words I received were simply, how was today?

Ask the question. The response they give you will tell you how to pray for them. And in getting to answer, it gives them an opportunity to express their pain. Navigating a crisis anywhere is difficult in your hometown. A little more helpful? Navigating a crisis in Buffalo is. Well, let's just say Bill's mafia goes way beyond football. I learned early in my stay that a friend that I grew up with was taking care of his elderly dad, just two doors down from my mom's home. We talked over the fence, just like we did as kids. It was a little surreal.

He let me know he was there for me for whatever I needed. Help and assistance was exponential. Over those weeks, each day brought new needs for a senior nurse, a realtor, a landscaper, a locksmith, an attorney, a Medicare specialist. And the list goes on. All friends and friends of friends showing up just because it's humbling to know such unconditional love.

And for the record, many a cowboy fan sent love from afar, too.

My husband is that guy who has the ability to, as he calls it, compartmentalize. I call it detaching. Sometimes that's a good thing, but I admit I get frustrated when I'm falling apart and he's over in the corner polishing his golf clubs. In reality, I couldn't be more thankful for the offset and personalities. I needed to detach. And he made me do it.

So often when we're facing a challenging situation, our instinct tells us to just keep barreling through. While in the eye of the storm, we were able to spend some very special moments with friends at some wonderful places. We became regulars at a little Italian restaurant where we got to know the staff by name. If you're navigating a tough situation now, I encourage you, don't lose touch with those you enjoy spending time with. They are your sunshine and medicine for your soul.

On Christmas Eve several years ago, I wrote a poem, and that has now become my book. In closing, I'd like to share those words with you, My Color Friend.

A friend one day said to me, if you come in color, I will help you to see. He handed me yellow bright, happy, free. I took it with joy. I was only three sunshine, dandelions, fairy dust two sparkling, shining what little girls pursue. He gave me another, the other retired. I was eager to press on this new I admired fresh, healthy, vibrant green. I took it with gladness. The youth of a teenage sights of summer leaves in bloom barefoot in grass such sweet perfume. He takes my hand the next in my touch a majestic violet royalty blush a young lady twirls in a long satin gown she colors herself with a princess crown dreaming one day to be happily wed. Time for another, my color friend said. Blue for water for the sky just in reach for broken hearts each delicate piece he watches me color his heart feels my pace. His eyes lock with mine and he studies my face the next he gives a vibrant red for a heart that is full and a savior that bled. She is graced with a husband and a family to love an abundance of blessings from heaven above. For she never knew from the depths of her soul how time would be cherished as children grow old. He hands her the next and she shades in a road where worlds are expanded and dreams are bestowed, new families built by the carpenter's hand, their foundation on rock. On the cross they will stand brown as earth, colored and true. He hands her the sunset, a breathtaking hue, brilliant orange, touching all that is seen, her lifetime lit up with encompassing sheen. The fullness surrounds. She smiles, and he waits, for she knows of the color to enter the gates. In faith she reaches, but he stops her hand. That one stays in the box, for that is not the plan. It is my turn to color, he says, hands aglow. With my radiant light, you're made pure as the snow. You are my treasure in these pictures. You see, I have colored through you the image of me.

So you see, God is in the colors. He's in all the seasons of your life. And he's in the gray, too.

Even in the hard times. He is writing a unique and personal story, a God story of your life. Jeremiah 31:3, "I have loved you with an everlasting love. I have drawn you with unfailing kindness."

Let's pray.

Father God, we thank you for today. We thank you for the opportunity to worship and to celebrate you together. And we thank you, Lord, for the gift of moms in your holy name. Amen.