Kourtney’s Blog

My dear friend Kelly shared her cardboard testimony in October.  She’s towards the end…She’s my hero!!!

http://www.yourchurch.com/article/cardboard-testimonies/

I thought that I would share 2 creative prayer ideas that have really blessed me.  I can’t take credit for either, but I hope that you will enjoy them as much as I have.

1.  Prayer candle.  My mom’s idea. My mom’s dear neighbor, Kathy, has been valiantly battling cancer.  Mom lit a candle and literally kept it going in the kitchen window all the time as an ongoing reminder to pray for Kathy.  She uses the tall, glass, inexpensive ones.  She uses white.  Since I have a few special friends (Kathy included) who are fighting similar battles, I decided to light my own candle.  My house is accented in red, so I found a red one.  It’s right next to my kitchen sink, in the middle of our house, where I spend the majority of my time.  It’s a sweet reminder to pray for the women that I am standing with in prayer.

2. Year-round Christmas Card Basket. Bishop Cox and Betty’s idea.  My precious mentor, Bishop William Cox, and his dear wife Betty put their Christmas cards in a basket that stays in the middle of their kitchen table year-round.  Each meal they pull out a card and pray for the family on the card.  My kids (especially Joseph) have loved doing this at our house.  Joseph frequently reminds us to grab a card when we’ve forgotten.

I’ve been in full-time ministry for almost 13 years, but throughout that time I have really wrestled with trusting that God is good on a deep, heart level.  It’s always bothered me that I doubt God’s goodness like I do, but I think that I resigned myself to the fact that this would always be a struggle.  However, the battle intensified this summer while Rich and I were in Mexico City on a 5 week summer project with the boys, fellow Campus Crusade Staff, and 70 + Missionary Kids.  As I walked through some really challenging circumstances with some of the students who were dealing with unbelievable things like incest, a faith crisis, and struggles with friends, I was also facing my own grief with the daily reality of life amidst deep suffering.  Mexico City has 1 million street children aged 4-12, and that is just the tip of the iceberg in terms of their poverty.  As the summer marched on, my heart stopped and did an about face.  It was like I stuck out my arm to the Lord to go no further.  It was just too painful and scary to be close to Him.  When were the bad things going to happen to me and my family?

I have always been a deep feeler with my heart and brain on overdrive.  As a small child, I used to pray that Satan would become a Christian.  When we ate dinner out at Luby’s Cafeteria, I would burst into tears if I saw a Senior Citizen who was eating alone.  As an adult, the way this battle plays out is in my heart and thought life.  When I see a struggling homeless person, I immediately wonder why it’s not me.  As I’ve been walking through life with my dear friend Kelly, a widow with 2 small boys, I cry out to God on her behalf while simultaneously wrestling with God as to why He would allow this to happen. 

One of my life values is that my insides match my outsides.  I have become increasingly aware of the disconnect in this part of my life.  On the outside, I move forward in courageous obedience, but on the inside I am hiding under the bed afraid of God as if He is the boogy man.  The analogy I’ve made is that I am hanging on tightly, hands shaking, waiting for the next bad thing to happen.  Recently, I started really looking at the struggle up close, and I asked a dear, trusted mentor if she thought that this was the thorn in my flesh or if it was something that I needed to unpack more.  We agreed that it was more, but that ultimately God was the one who had to heal my heart.  I honestly didn’t even know where to start, but thankfully, God was already pursuing me in a life-changing way.

The team that Rich and I serve on within Campus Crusade is so wonderful.  Last month we had our annual team retreat.  We were required to present a Life Map that outlined the major events in our life journey, ranking them from -10 to 10.  I’ve done many life maps over the years, so I didn’t really even think much of it.  It was just something that we were going to do to get to know our team better.  But filling in the blanks was like shining a floodlight into the darkest, scariest parts of my heart.  For the first time I really saw why I feel like I am hanging on and waiting for the next tragedy.

When I was 9, my sister was sexually abused by a neighbor.  When I was 10, my mother, sister, and I were involved in an armed robbery.  When I was 12 we moved.  That same year, my mom suffered from a stroke.  When I was 13, I was in a school bus accident.  That same year my Dad lost his job twice.  We went from living a comfortable middle class lifestyle to being unable to make ends meet.  At 14, my parents filed bankruptcy, and we lost ‘everything.’ 

I know that many of you have probably suffered more than I did, and I definitely don’t want to paint a totally bleak picture.  During those same years, I became a Christian, had more incredible opportunities to thrive in my small Texas town than any child deserves, and I watched my parents’ love deepen through unbelievable struggles.  The point I want to make, is that as I was writing my life map, I saw the pattern of hanging on terrified of what was around the corner, while going on with normal daily life.  That is what 10 of my most formative years were like. 

However, it was time to break the pattern.  I knew that God showed me this because He wanted to heal me.

I long to be the kind of woman who lives in freedom.  I want my internal posture to be a woman totally surrendered to God and deeply in love with him.  I long to be able to face trials when they come with a deep and abiding faith—not hanging on for dear life all the time as if life is like a walk across a tightrope.  I long to live without fear and worry being the true songs of my heart.  God had some major work to do, and it’s begun.

At our team retreat in addition to presenting our life maps, our wonderful team leader Ken led us in a two day study of Servant Leadership.  A few things really stuck out to me.  One was “growth in character by the servant leader must always be kept in view.  The two biggest things that harm the opportunity for character growth are pride (self-promotion) and fear (self-protection).  He went on to ask the question “what flesh patterns did you see repeated in your childhood?”  It was a huge “ah-ha” as I recounted my mantra of trusting no one but myself.  I also started the pattern of wanting to know ‘why’ for everything that God has done.  As you know, this just isn’t how God works.

As Ken continued sharing about Servant Leadership, I took a scary step and shared my struggle with our team.  I felt stupid and naked.  I wished that I could take the words back.  However, a few of our teammates initiated great conversations throughout the retreat and promised to pray for me.  During our last meal, one friend shared Psalm 131 with me.  God used this beautiful scripture to speak to me.

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high.

I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me.

But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me. 

O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore.

It’s really hard to describe what happens when God moves in your heart, but I’ll take a stab at it.  As I read this Psalm, I felt as if the Lord was speaking directly to me.  For starters, I need to not occupy myself with understanding every mystery of God—the whys and what ifs are not for me to know right now.  The second thing that literally quieted my soul was the picture of a weaned child with its mother.  After nursing three boys, I know what the clamoring of a hungry nursing baby is like, and I know what the satisfaction of a weaned child is like.  God was asking me to calm and quiet my soul and He was leading out.

I have not been miraculously healed in a one-time event, but I am humbled to share that God is working in me each day.  As I have scary, fearful thoughts, I am learning to take them captive and talk to God about them.  I’ve also noticed a different kind of thought creeping in. I’ll have a scary thought, and I follow it to its logical conclusion in a fearless way.  It looks something like this: yesterday I had a thought pop into my head about getting breast cancer.  I actually followed the thought to the scary parts and changed the ending with my family being o.k., God being glorified, sharing Christ with the people in the hospital, and rejoicing at the opportunity to take a nap in my hospital bed, which rarely ever happens at this stage of my life.  Like a typical mom, this internal dialogue all happened in a matter of seconds while I was making peanut butter sandwiches for the kids.  But I experienced peace instead of incredible fear that my kids would grow up without a mother, that God is mean to let people get cancer, and that it was inevitable that I would be one of them.  Can you see the difference?

In this mental ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’, I chose to respond in a way that honored God and matched up with my life calling and purpose which is “to walk closely and fearlessly with God, loving him with my heart, soul, mind and strength, and inviting others to do the same while loving them well.” 

It was a HUGE victory for me!

I share this with you today because maybe, just maybe, in light of our country’s political and economic crisis, many of you might be battling fear too.  Thoughts of what if, how are we going to pay for this, and why Lord, are plaguing the average citizen from Joe the plumber to Suzy the working mom, to Kourtney the missionary (feel free to insert your own name into the equation).  We women are masters of smiling and engaging in daily life while we are internally fighting World War III with our fearful thoughts.

Today I want to encourage you to take some time away with the Lord and raise a white flag—a time of intentional surrender to His special story for your life—the good as well as the painful.  The second thing I want to encourage you to do is to surrender your rights.  Only you know what you are hanging onto with clenched fists—a house, someone’s health, a challenging child, your spouse’s addiction, a sick parent, your retirement account.  I want to encourage you to give up your rights to these things and give them back to the Lord.  It might be painful.  You might even have to symbolically pry open your fingers like my friend Karalee does when she gives something back to the Lord, but I encourage you to be courageous and bold—making as Alcoholics Anonymous would say “a fearless moral inventory” of what you are clinging to.

Finally, I encourage you to write a formal prayer of commitment that you will choose to be a herald of the Lord during this season of our world’s history.  You are called to be a herald, or a missionary, just like me.  But your scope is your own personal sphere of influence—only you know who that is.

In conclusion, I pray that we would all continue in this pattern of surrender.  In the beginning, it might be 20 times of surrendering the first day.  But my prayer is that the discipline of surrendering our rights to the Lord would become a habit—that eventually our internal dialogue would automatically go to trusting God first. 

On the back of our retreat notebook was this beautiful poem.  When I spoke in Phoenix, I had everyone close their eyes while I read it.  You obviously can’t do that right now, but maybe you can say it as a prayer back to the Lord as you read it today.

He Had No Rights

Mabel Williamson, former OMF Missionary to China

He had no rights:

No right to a soft bed, and a well-laid table;

No right to a home of His own, a place where His own pleasure might be sought;

No right to choose pleasant, congenial companions, those who could understand him and sympathize with him;

No right to shrink away from filth and sin, to pull His garments closer around Him and turn aside to walk cleaner paths;

No right to be understood and appreciated; no, not by those upon whom He had poured out a double portion of His love;

No right even never to be forsaken by His Father, the One who meant more than all to Him.

His only right was silently to endure shame, spitting, blows; to take His place as a sinner at the dock; to bear my sins in anguish on the cross.

He had no rights.  And I?

A right to the comforts of life?  No, but a right to the love of God for my pillow.

A right to physical safety?  No, but a right to the security of being in His will.

A right to love and sympathy from those around me?  No but a right to the friendship of the One to whom I have given my all, led as is a little child, with its hand in the hand of its father.

A right to a home and dear ones?  No, not necessarily; but a right to dwell in the heart of God. 

A right to myself?  No, but oh, I have a right to Christ.

All that He takes I will give;

All that He gives I will take;

He, my only right!

He, the one right before which all other rights fade into nothingness.

I have full right to Him;

Oh, may He have full right to me!

Amen…

I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed my French laundry detergent. As I’ve unpacked various boxes of linens and children’s clothes over the last two years, I’ve remarked about how much I miss the smell of our clothes and our home in France. I’ve been on a psycho mission here in the USA to find something that smells even remotely similar to my Ariel. Today was like Christmas as Rich just returned home from Egypt with a huge (literally) surprise–two jumbo bags of Ariel. My house already smells like ‘home’ on rue des Epis.

I love Buzz Lightyear. The Buzz Ride is my favorite ride at Disney. I feel satisfied at the end when the high score on my laser gun proves that I’ve defeated the evil Zurg–all while encouraging a four year old, holding a toddler and smiling for a camera in the dark. Like Buzz, I can relate to wanting to save the world. “To infinity and beyond” doesn’t seem so far fetched and unrealistic. I was like this as a child too.

Besides wanting to save the world, I feel so endeared to good old Buzz because he is a Space Ranger. I have always been in awe of the Space Program. I remember exactly where I was when the Challenger exploded–in the cafeteria in 6th grade eating lunch. I can see Mrs. Corn’s face and smell the smells when she announced the tragedy. I loved visiting the Johnson Space Center in Houston. Until I realized how nauseous I might really get, I actually considered what it would take to be an astronaut.

But my favorite reason by far for loving space is that two of my favorite spiritual mentors are Apollo astronaut, Charlie Duke and his dear wife, Dottie (please see www.charlieduke.net). Growing up in our little Episcopal church in Texas, Dottie and Charlie prayed me through my teenage angst and were always so loving and encouraging of me…and still are. I just loved Charlie and Dottie so much that although I knew that it was a big deal that Charlie was an astronaut, I didn’t really get it until I had three little boys (and one big boy).

My boys are totally into space. They have astronaut outfits for dress up, and when they were included in our lunch with Grand Duke and Dottie in January, they fought over who got to sit next to them. So imagine my joy today (enough to finally sit down and add to my blog after four months) when after almost exactly two years of living in Florida, we finally saw a Space Shuttle launch. We’ve made numerous attempts that were foiled by weather and other acts of God. But thankfully, today at 5:02 pm surrounded by a huge crowd of people, the Streets heard the countdown, felt the trembling rumble, and saw the shooting fire. Even little David knew that something was special. He kept pointing to the sky and “talking.” I couldn’t help but cry.

I think it will take me a while to process what I experienced today. I am not gifted in science and all things mechanical and technical. What I saw today was mind blowing. I just can’t comprehend what it takes to launch people into space. It’s all wrapped up for me in Buzz’s mantra “To infinity and beyond” which has such radical spiritual implications. The launch and subsequent space adventure has illuminated for me that it is all so big out there. I can’t get my finite mind around my infinite heavenly father. Thankfully, I’ll have “infinity and beyond” to ponder…

We had a birthday party for Jesus on Christmas night. I’d forgotten to purchase birthday candles, so we used real candles–big candles–in the cake. Surrounded by my parents and sister, we cracked up as the boys used their new air cannons to blow out the candles after we sang Happy Birthday to Jesus. While we were eating cake, my sister asked Joseph if Jesus was living in his heart. He said, “No. I’ll ask him when you leave.” Joseph has been asking a lot of questions about Christ lately, and we’ve made it really clear that it’s his choice. He knows that we can’t choose Christ for him, but when he’s ready, he can ask him to live in his heart. He’s told us several times that he wants to ask Jesus to be with him forever, but he always has a funny time in the future that he’s planning to do it. Imagine our utter SHOCK when my sister says, “Why don’t you ask him right now?” to which Joseph replies, “O.K.”

Rich asked him a few clarifying questions to make sure that he was really serious and that he really knew what he was doing. Joseph was definitely serious and asked if I would be the one to pray with him. So, my sweet Joseph prayed with me, in the middle of Jesus’ Birthday Party, and asked the God of the Universe to live in his little heart. I couldn’t have scripted it better.

That night he called Rich’s parents and told them the wonderful story. They were fantastic. I wish that I had a tape recorder to remember forever the sweet things that they said, rejoicing with him. The following Sunday, I brought special cookies to his Sunday School class. His teachers made a really big deal about his decision, and the whole class sang Happy Birthday to Joseph while munching on their Wal-Mart Bakery fudge and snickerdoodle cookies. It was truly a sight to behold. Our Christian Education director sent him a wonderful card. We’re still excited, and it’s been a fun celebration all around.

I’ve already noticed a special change in him. Prior to December 25th, he would not tell people that he loved them. Now, he’s told his brothers several times, “Rich, I love you. Sharky, I love you.” I point to his heart and ask who is living there. He beams and says, “Jesus.” We’ve told him that this year, he gave Jesus his favorite birthday present. I think we’re right.

This is my blog. So many of my friends have gotten the “blog bug” that I wanted to give it a try. I am busy raising 3 boys, homeschooling and leading a small group with 25 returning missionary kids. I hope that this blog will be a great place to share some of my adventures.

This picture was taken this summer at our Staff Conference with the big boys and my dear friend, Amy Petersen. Amy is one of the first Missionary Kids that I ever met. She grew up in France and just moved to the USA where she is a Freshman at Michigan State. I met Amy at her Baptism Celebration when she was 12 years old. Starting the next year, she came to our home weekly for our Girl’s Group Bible Study. Amy’s entire family is dear to us, and we miss them terribly.

I’ve been privileged to watch Amy grow up the last six years. Last month, I used frequent flier miles to visit Amy at school for a long weekend. Her transition to the life in the US is remarkable. She is involved in Campus Crusade and working at a coffee shop in addition to making great friends and grades. We spent the weekend talking, watching lots of movies, drinking lots of coffee, going on long walks around campus and decorating her dorm room.

Besides being with Amy, it was wonderful to experience Fall. The leaves were beautiful, and I loved wearing sweaters and my jacket. The first afternoon, Amy was in class, and I had 5 hours to kill. I scoped out an antique mall that I thought was about 15 minutes away. I ended up lost in the country with a great Christian radio station. I rolled down the windows, sang out loud, and was overcome with thankfulness for my life. I finally ran into a policeman who pointed me back to the antique mall, which was actually only about 5 minutes from where I ended up. I piddled for the rest of the afternoon, and then headed back to campus to find Amy.

It was definitely a weekend to remember, and I’ve decided that as long as we live in Orlando, I’ve got to have an annual long weekend of Fall.