Rainy Seasons

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Welcome to our Orlando garden.

We’ve had a couple of weeks of very hot, dry days, and like a toddler looking for Santa in the night sky, I’ve looked for storm clouds anticipating our rainy season to start. Rainy season is a blessing in Florida during the summertime. It makes for a cozy afternoon when that shadow settles over my house. I tend to light candles and brew a cup of Joe while trying not to trip over my shivering Poodle-Bichon, Rudy. The rains leave behind a greener garden and cooler sidewalks.

Yesterday, Bella watched her brother Colin dart out to play in the rain with his best friend Deven. She glanced up at me with her look. I nodded. “Go on.”

A few seconds later, she ran into the house. Her upper lip quivering. “Colin told me I’m not allowed to play in the rain.”

I took her hand and led her back outside. I nudged her into the downpour. She took a few steps out before running back to the cover of the garage.

“What’s wrong?” I said.

“It’s cold!”

“Go. You’ll get used to it.”

Colin, seeing I was encouraging her, ducked into the garage, grabbed her hand, and together they ran across the street to play. He helped her through the rain.

 

 

 

There are times the skies fall out on us, when life begins to feel cold and uncomfortable, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s this…a garden needs rain and light to grow. So don’t be scared of the rain, even if you feel your standing in a torrential downpour because you have two survival tools to help you.

The first is a God who sees. Seek God daily and whole heartedly. If you spend time reading the Bible and in prayer God will give you peace, no matter what your circumstances. The other survival tool is the people God has placed into your life to help you through it. Accept the love and help from others.

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This is our Orlando garden that wraps around our home.

In the last few months with breast cancer, I’ve felt an outpouring of love from friends, neighbors, and family. Many prayed for us, made us meals for over four weeks (!), a friend sat in the waiting room during my surgery for hours. There were flowers, gifts, cards, and girlfriends willing to rush over and give me a hug whenever I needed it. All of them…all of you… were the weed pickers in my garden. The outpouring of love overrode the fear and sadness that tends to creep up when dealing with cancer.

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This is our spring sister in our garden. We have a sister representing each of the seasons.

 

Experiencing the rainy season alongside Jesus will increase your faith in a good God. As I teach Bella, God is good all the time, in the rain and in the shine.God never wastes a good rainy season in a believer’s life. He allows the rain so He can later produce a harvest.

Paul writes in Hebrews 6:7 and 8,  “For land that has drunk the rain that often falls on it, and produces a crop useful to those for whose sake it is cultivated, receives a blessing from God. But if it bears thorns and thistles, it is worthless and near to being cursed, and its end is to be burned.” (English Standard Version)

 

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer. We called our friend Richard Case. Richard and his wife Linda have taught Abiding in Christ studies to couples at the farm to help them learn how to hear from God. Richard advised us to immediately go to God and pray for a verse to cling to during this season in our lives. Jay and I were sitting in my office. I spun around and glanced at a verse that I’d posted on my bulletin board a few weeks before. If I know anything about God it’s this, if He keeps putting a verse in your face, you better post it somewhere prominent because in the near future you’re going to need it, if you haven’t needed it already.

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You see, God always tills the land ahead of you. He’s churned up the soil ahead of your pain, sorrows, frustrations, even breast cancer. He had already spoken into my spirit for the months ahead, but we did what Richard Case instructed. After, both of us agreed Romans 8:28 was the verse to cling to. “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for those who are called according to His purpose.” (ESV)

Throughout those difficult months, Jay began to notice this verse popping up everywhere. He’d say, “There’s our breast cancer verse again.” And each time I felt discouraged or beaten either I’d remember it, or Jay would remind me of it.

 

What’s your storm today? Do you feel you are being pounded by a hard rain? You have a choice to make, you can either grow a harvest that will grow your faith and one day nourish someone else, or you can grow your thorny weeds. Keep in mind…nobody likes a prickly person.

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This is Winter Sister

My advice? Don’t waste a good rain.

Till we meet again under sunnier circumstances.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seeds of Love…Seeds that Change

 

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“Love is a fruit in season at all times, and within reach of every hand.” Mother Teresa

            We’ve been supporting Abilaisha through Compassion International since she was wee thing, now she’s fifteen. What happens to a ripe, innocent girl in India when Christian funding is forced out? Those that sleep on the concrete, untouchable floor of the Caste system are often sold, used, and abused. I didn’t get to say goodbye to a girl who called me Momma in her letters. Abilaisha was abandoned.

Compassion International has been serving the poor children of India for 48 years through an American sponsorship program. According to Guardian, since the election of Prime Minister Modi and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) who ran on a promise to rid the country of corruption and to promote Hinduism as the National religion, twenty-five, foreign-funded charities have been forced out. There is a fear by Modi and the BJP, India will lose its Hindu culture, and Compassion International is setting out to convert Hindus to Christianity. Compassion President and CEO Jimmy Mellado denies this accusation, for Compassion International has only worked with already established Christian churches to help them feed, clothe, and educate their needy. Undoubtedly, this shut down is allowing India’s Christian impoverished to slip through the geysers created by its political climate.

According to Open Doors an organization that raises awareness of Christian persecution around the world, since Modi’s election there is also a rise of Christian persecution in India.  Churches are being burned, pastors beaten, and out of the 64 million Christians, approximately 39 million have reported suffering direct persecution.

What will happen to my Christian daughter Abilaisha?

One ordinary day, I was complaining about laundry and dishes and boys dirty socks scattered about, when a letter arrived. I recognized Abilaisha’s foreign script and turned over for the translator’s version. Inside, I read the words carefully printed in pencil.

A typhoon hit her village, wiped out everything. Both her parents had Typhoid Fever and she was caring for them in a small tent. Then, as if nothing in her world was falling apart, she asked about me and told me she prays blessings on me every single day. Me, her spoiled American Momma. No complaining or pity party splattered her page. You see, she’s used to this life, used to the struggle, the hunger, the fraying of her hem, the holes in her shoes, but being used to it doesn’t make it okay.

I tracked down her village on goggle, tons of trees doted with small dwellings. I thought it would make me feel closer, but as I stalked her like a hawk from above, it had the opposite effect. She’s there, somewhere in a tiny hut, and I’m here in a palace. Our worlds lie far apart and I am humbled by my blessings and helplessness.

I stressed my concern to Prem my Indian sister-in-law with indignation, “Why doesn’t India do something to help their poor?”

“Honestly Tammy, the problem is so big. There is so much corruption and so many poor,” She shrugged, “where would you even start?”

I suppose the disciple Thomas felt that way. He was naturally a doubter, wanting to place his fingers in the holes of Christ’s hands to believe His resurrection. When Thomas reached the vast land of India, I imagine he felt a bit overwhelmed. Eventually, he died there, speared in a village like Abilaisha’s, but not before converting many for the gospel. If he hadn’t started Abilaisha may never have received the good news of a God who loves her unconditionally.

Heres where I find my starting point, planting seeds of love.

Although, she’ll probably never read this, this is my love letter for a little Indian girl named Abilaisha, which I’ve lost to a government that doesn’t want me to help her. I ask everyone who reads this to pray for Abilaisha and all the Indian children,  for their safety, their needs to be met, and their unfaltering faith. We have to start somewhere.

 

Note: In order to protect Abilaisha, her last name and village has not been included in this post.

There is a great need for the sponsorship of children around the world. If you would like to become a spiritual momma or daddy to those less fortunate, please consider sponsoring a child by contacting www.compassioninternational.com.

For more information on Christian persecution: www.opendoors.org