Glory - Part I

As believers, we have been entrusted with the truth of God’s holy word, and Paul tells us in Romans 10:14 that "before people can ask for help, they must believe in him and before they can believe in him, they must hear about him; and for them to hear about the Lord, someone must tell them." 

After watching a video, sometime back, where Third Day performed "Show Me Your Glory, "  I began to wonder how different my turbulent days might be if I just whispered the words, "Show Me Your Glory."  Since that time, the Lord has shown me the depths of His majestic beauty, grace and splendor in a big way.  What a challenge to put down in words the extent of His Glory to share my story as Paul has instructed.

I think we can all agree that the summer has flown by like a jet airliner.  Relaxing at my dining room table, drinking hot coconut coffee, I reflect on the summer.  Summer brought many magical moments with family and friends, and I would like you to open up your souls and let the light shine in as I share these precious memories whereby God came down and shined His Glory on me. I will begin my recount of His Glory with an American summer pastime, baseball.

Early in the summer, we watched Austin and his team play baseball.  They were one of the smallest teams in the league so I wasn’t expecting much, but they gave credence to the words “dynamite comes in small packages”.  During a couple of games, they found themselves down by several runs, and then they would just fight their way back to overcome the other team.  I cannot count the number of games they run-ruled their opponents.  Whether the team was down or playing one of those run-away games, no ugliness shined on either side of the field.  They went through the season undefeated and held onto that title as they finished in 1st place in the tournament.  What a great end to Austin’s final year in the Lynnville Summer League.

I want to pause for a moment and mention that our time at the Summer League hasn’t always been one of great memories.  I witnessed bad sportsmanship through the years, and we also had to say goodbye to one teammate in the summer of 2012 as God swept up his spirit in our backyard.  Now, for some noteworthy facts about this 12U team:

• The team pitcher had the same number as the young boy from 2012, Number 7.

• Austin was the only teammate still playing from his 8U baseball team.

• The 12U baseball team chose to be the Braves; 8U team was also the Braves in 2012.

• A boy on the team, playing organized ball for the first time reminded me of Austin’s teammate I watched four years ago. (similar looks, demeanor and drive)

The baseball season went down in history as one of the most joyful and peaceful in all the years I have watched my boys playing ball.  You must know the Glory of God showed up in this summer league baseball team in a big way. A truth:  God is omnipresent.

Continuing on into the summer, I took a trip with my sister-in-law to the hills of Kentucky and Tennessee, which included an unplanned detour into North Carolina.  We visited Cumberland Falls on day one, and then we travelled into the Smokey Mountains the next day, visiting Clingmans Dome.  The majestic beauty of the mountains always leaves me standing in awe of His Glory.  Since we were less than two hours away from our property in North Carolina, we travelled down to the land later that afternoon.  We were greeted by a startling surprise; a screeching owl flew out of the tall grass at the top of the drive, leaving behind human screams.  Thank God it wasn’t a bear!  Once our hearts returned to a normal beat, we enjoyed a picnic in the quiet of the mountains.  As I listen to the sounds of the forest, a great sense of peace settles upon me, and oh how I wish I could bottle it for later times. 

The next day included a strenuous venture to the Ramsey Cascade Waterfall in the Smokey Mountains.  The path was long and treacherous, much like life, and at one point the sky turned black, thunder rolled and a few drops of rain fell to the ground.  No matter the weather, there was no turning back at that point because I had already travelled three of the four miles.  As I approached the end of the trail, a spectacular view of the cascading waterfall became my reward, worth every ounce of the strain and pain. As I sat on a huge boulder, admiring its spectacular beauty, the sky opened up and the sun shone from behind the clouds as God revealed the full extent of His Glory.  A truth:  God will show up in his timing. 

So if you find yourself searching for something more or dreading another season of life, ask God to shine down His Glory.   If you enjoyed The Glory-Part I, join me for The Glory-Part II (yet to be written).  Part II will share some God-given moments experienced with my sons and spectacular memories of our 10-day summer vacation , and who knows you may learn of some places you would like to visit someday.

Reflection of the Storm

Are the storms of life pulling you under?  Does it feel as though all hope is gone?  I recall the days of despair and brokenness, in a period of unrest, a few years back.  Many friends are facing their own storms, which has prompted me to share this story.  My prayer is this message provides hope for your weary soul and a formula for peace to carry you through the storm.     

The years brought much turmoil and chaos as she maneuvered her family through the storms of life.  The worst came in 2012 when a young boy took his last breath in the backyard, the place that had been her summer haven.  This was closely followed by a frightening micro-blast, a water-damaged home, rebellious children, car troubles, health issues, and broken relationships.

She drove home from work one night, speaking to God, and saying “You can go ahead and take me now.  I can’t take any more difficult days.”  Then, in the next breath saying, “No God, I take it back; I cannot do this to my boys.” On February 7, 2013, she recorded these words in her journal, “I am lost, and I don’t know how to keep going.  Please, please help me!  I cry out to you God!”  She yearned for peace and rest from the difficult days, and God answered, “I am the Lord your God who holds your right hand, and I say to you do not be afraid I will help you.” Isaiah 41:13.

In the storm’s reflection, one can observe a distraught wife, mother, friend, who worked diligently on her relationship with God.  She prepared a quiet space in her home where she reveled in God’s word every morning.  She sought support in a book study group, and another and another.  She experienced an intimate weekend with Jesus, on the Walk of Emmaus and read more self-help and spiritual books than she cared to count.  She subscribed to daily devotions, listened to KLove and prayed daily.

The more she worked to overcome the darkness, the more intense her struggles became.  As relationships continued to disappoint, she dug deeper into God’s word.  She began to learn that her “battle was not against the people on earth but against the rulers and authorities and the powers of this world’s darkness, against the spiritual powers of evil in the heavenly world.” Ephesians 6:12. 

One may wonder what becomes of the woman in the reflection.  Does she defeat the enemy or does she give up?

Little by little, she begins to repair the brokenness.  She starts with the renewing of her mind, as she meditates on the words written in Romans 12:2, "Do not change yourselves to be like the people of this world, but be changed within by a new way of thinking.  Then, you will be able to decide what God wants for you; you will know what is good and pleasing to him and what is perfect."  She continues to study God’s word and memorizes scripture to replace her negative thoughts during difficult days, which was a remedy she learned from Joyce Meyer’s teachings. One of her favorite verses that took her through 2013 was Philippians 4:6: “Do not worry about anything, but in everything through prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to the Lord.”

Life doesn’t magically return to normal with this new way of thinking, but God’s scripture provides her hope for tomorrow.  Slowly, she finds glimpses of peace and joy as she continues to persevere.  She seeks out many resources to battle the evil forces and learns the only way is through the saving grace of her Lord, Jesus Christ.  She knows the battle is real and turns to her Savior to dry her tears and to give her the Faith to face the challenges of each new day.

About the time she thinks the storms of life are diminishing, the powers of darkness pull her under again.  She clutches God’s hand and seeks his Presence in nature’s beauty.  He leads her to many of His mystical creations. She ravishes in the peace of the waterfall cascading over the rocks into a pool of water below.  She witnesses His mighty wonder in the mountain forestry.  She rejoices in the spectacular sounds of water flowing through creek bed rocks.  God’s radiant beauty never ceases to amaze.  It appears in the stunning rainbow after a storm, a magnificent sunset at the end of a hard day and the whisper of the wind. 

I am here to tell you that restoration after a period of intense storms is hard work.  But, I can tell you that my reflection of the storm looks amazingly different today.  The reflection proclaims God’s glory and the peace and joy that can only be found in knowing his son, Jesus Christ, as your savior.   I encourage you to listen to one of my favorite praise songs, “Show Me Your Glory” by Third Day and then to put aside your worldly possessions, if only for a day.  Search for God’s spectacular, hidden treasures in the spiritual and physical realms.  Just whisper, "God...Show me your glory."

May God bless you with his grace today, and I hope you share God's glory in your life.  God saved me in the midst of my storm, and He can save you too.  Never give up.  

By Jeanette Lytle   

The Power of a Seed

A seed is dropped and covered with rich, dark soil with a weight a million times more.  The seed lies in darkness for days or weeks, waiting patiently.  Then the day finally arrives, drops of water flow in and the sun shines through and miraculously the seed pushes through the depths of the darkness into the light.  In time, with ample nourishment, water and light, the seed emerges into a strong, hardy plant, which grows stronger and stronger by the day.  With the passage of time, the plant reaches maturity, and those who walk near witness what the light, water and nourishment accomplished from only a seed.

Likewise, God calls his people to plant spiritual seeds.  Each day affords an opportunity to sow seeds of love, peace and joy within the dark realms of this world.  I encourage you to plant a seed of love deep into the heart of a person whose circumstance has rendered them broken and afraid.  Nourish the seed with words of encouragement and daily prayer.  Tell of Jesus and how the water He gives “becomes a spring of water gushing up inside, giving eternal life.”  Continue to nurture the seed that lies deep within, and in time, miraculously the seed will push through the depths of the darkness into the light and blossom into something beautiful.

Every morning brings a new day, a new opportunity to sow seeds of hope.  A seed sowed today may save a lost soul tomorrow.  Never underestimate the power of a seed. 

By Jeanette Lytle

A Hug

According to the American Heritage Dictionary, a hug is an affectionate clasp or embrace, but a hug can be so much more.  A hug can change another person’s mood from sadness to one of happiness.  A hug can provide strength on a trying day.  I recently attended a dinner and talent show at Lynnville Elementary School (LES) with my son, Austin, and as we approached the register to pay, he stepped out of line to hug a woman who works in the kitchen at LES.  She told me how much she loved Austin’s hugs and how he has made some of her difficult days better with his hugs.  Thinking back on that moment, made me think about how a simple hug, which costs us nothing, can be such an invaluable gift.

A hug is a great way to express your love for another.  You can show the love you feel toward your spouse and children through your hugs.  Children can show their parents they care with a hug, and it doesn’t always have to be a physical embrace.  My son, Alex, crafted me a hug when he was in preschool on Valentine’s Day 2003. His construction paper hug, made with his precious hands and cut-out hearts, was scripted with this, “I know you miss me when I’m away so I made this hug for you today!  This special hug from me to you hugs all day through.”  I still have this hug on my bookshelf.   Although the bright pink and red colors have faded, I know his hug will never fade away.

I recall when one of my neighbors told me she really didn’t like to be hugged as I hugged her tight one day.  I could have decided to never hug her again, but instead I chose to hug my friend that much more.  As 1 John 4 tells us, “We should love people not only with words and talk, but by our actions and true caring.”; hugs are actions that show others we care.   I don’t know whether she would ever admit it, but I think she began enjoying hugs.  Recently, my friend lost her dad, and as I approached her at the funeral home, she walked toward me with a smile and her arms opened for my hug.  Then, I suspected my hugs meant more to her than I could ever know.  I am so glad I never stopped hugging her.  A hug can bring a smile when one is grieving, and a little joy to mask the sorrow.

When my oldest son, Adam, went off to college in the fall, I knew I would miss his big hugs the most.  Now, he didn’t always like hugs from his mom.  As a matter of fact, when he was younger he ran from my hugs, and he asked me not to hug him ever in front of his friends.  But, later in his teenage years, he came to love his mom’s hugs, and I also had the joy of passing out hugs to many of his friends.   What was once an embarrassment for him is now something we both cherish; a wealth of love is shared within our arms.  I am happy to report that over the years, Adam has become a big hugger too, and has made the day of many ladies, young and old, with his hugs. 

I have always been a hugger.  I hug my family, my friends, my students, and I have been known to even hug a complete stranger.  I know hugs can be a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day so go out and hug someone today.

By Jeanette Lytle

The Walk of Emmaus

This story begins with many worries as I was one of the biggest worriers of all time.  I worried my boys wouldn’t wake in the morning when I laid them down to sleep.  I worried about their grades. I worried my son may not make it back home safe when he left in his car.  I worried about my sons’ disappointments when they didn’t receive an award.  I worried my boys would get hurt on the football field.  I worried we may not have enough money to pay the bills.  I worried my marriage was destined to fail.  And, the list goes on and on.

One day I made a decision to leave my worries behind…so I thought.  I left home with a couple of ladies from my church one Thursday in March.  I was told to leave everything behind, including my cell phone.  I would have no contact with the outside for three full days.  My spiritual journey began when I joined 50 other women on the Walk of Emmaus.  Now, I can tell you I was somewhat worried as that was my nature.  I worried about the anger on my husband’s face as I left.  I worried about spending the next 72 hours with a group of ladies I didn’t know.  I also worried about life when I returned home, as I would be missing my husband’s birthday.

After we arrived and the staff served us a wonderful dinner, friends and family departed; the Walk of Emmaus was underway.  I never knew complete strangers could love and serve others so deeply.  They served meals, provided snacks, comforted us through the tears, and showed us the love of Jesus.  They were true pilgrims sent to us from the Lord above.  Every day we learned more and more about God’s mercy and grace; complete strangers sharing laughter and tears.  One day I hoped to love like them.

Then, the turning point came on Saturday night.  We were challenged to select a burden from our life and lay it down at the foot of the cross.  I chose to lay my “worries” down at the foot of the cross and turn this burden over to Jesus.  I prayed fiercely for relief from my worry.  As I wadded up the paper where I had written the word “worry” and laid it at the cross, a huge relief came over me.  It was as though God, himself, was lifting my burdens from my shoulders, and suddenly I knew what Jesus meant when he spoke of the gushing inside of us as we accept his “living water”.

No words could precisely describe the three day Walk of Emmaus.  The only way to truly understand what this walk encompassed would be for you to take this journey with Jesus.  The gift I received that weekend ranked right at the top with the birth of my three boys.  For years, I had burdened myself with worry, which reduced many happy moments to days of doom.  And, of course, the extreme worry and stress led to unhealthy relationships as we take our frustrations out on the people we love.  The walk gave me hope that one day my family would know the meaning of a happy home.

At last, the fourth day arrived, which is when we return home to family.  The spiritual leaders warned that we may have changed during the past 72 hours, but our life at home would still be the same.  The fourth day was up to us…to be the change regardless of our circumstances.  On that final day, I made a commitment to worship with God, to serve my family even when it hurts and to share my love with family, friends and even strangers.

By Jeanette Lytle      

The Storm Rages Onward

At the start of 2013, I prayed for a break from the struggles as 2012 had been almost more than I could bear.  Thankfully, the contractors managed to finish the house with no further damage, and activity resumed to a new normal.  Then, a few days later, the storm began to toss me here and there again.  The phone rang, and on the other end was the assistant principle from the school.  I was told my son would receive a one-day suspension for a brawl with another student in the locker area.  The irony of this incident was that he was the least likely of my three sons to rumble with anyone.  Then, mid-term grades came and my oldest son's math grade was less than satisfactory.  Consequently, I grounded him, which led to a teenage outburst resulting in the two of us not speaking for almost two weeks.  My husband and I were also at odds with one another daily.  Our household was full of anger and rage, and I was losing the battle against the evil of this world.    

On February 7, 2013, I wrote in my journal, “I am lost, and I don’t know how to keep going.  Please, please help me!  I cry out to you God!”  Thankfully, a short time later, God laid on the hearts of two women in my church the desire to sponsor me on the “Walk of Emmaus”.  When they asked me to attend the walk one Sunday morning after church, thoughts of why I couldn’t go came rushing into my brain…”I have classes to teach, my husband’s birthday is during this time, I can’t take three days off”.  Then, God quickly destroyed those thoughts, and I said, “Yes, I would love to go.”  Just as my life was forever changed on June 30, 2012, with the death of the young boy, my life would be forever changed as I set out on this walk with Jesus. 

I am so grateful Jesus invited me to his well of living water even though I am so undeserving of his love and forgiveness.  Like the Samaritan woman in the book of John, I have a flawed past and can't fathom why Jesus would want to save me.  In John 4, Jesus asked a Samaritan woman for a drink, and she replied, “I am surprised you asked me for a drink, since you are a Jewish man and I am a Samaritan woman.” John 4:9.  In those days, Jews and Samaritans were enemies so this was unheard of in Jesus’s time. 

Jesus then said, “If you only knew the free gift of God and who it is that is asking you for water, you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” John 4:10.  Then, the Samaritan woman asked him where he would get this living water.  And, Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give will become a spring of water gushing up inside that person, giving eternal life.”  John 4: 11, 13. During my Walk of Emmaus, I experienced this immense gushing when I surrendered my burdens to Jesus at the cross and said "yes" to God's will for my life.  

Casting Crowns song, The Well, provides an awesome invitation of surrender through their lyrics.  Put aside the things of this world and go to the well, accept Jesus’s living water and thirst no more.   I am forever grateful that I made the decision to leave it all behind and accept Jesus's invitation.  Stay tuned for more writings on my Walk of Emmaus.

By Jeanette Lytle

Refuge in the Storm

Are you drowning in self-pity, longing for something more, feeling completely broke in the midst of life’s struggles?  Have you longed to stay in bed rather than rise to another unpredictable day?  This was my story…as one disastrous activity after another crushed my spirit again and again.  Plunge with me into the raging waters and discover where I sought refuge in the storm.

This story begins in the summer of 2012 at an end of the season 8U baseball gathering of family and friends.  Boys and girls raced around the yard, swam in the pool, and ate much food; the atmosphere was full of laughter and joy.  Then it happened…the fun subsided as my son, Adam, screamed for help and lifted a young boy out of the waters, handing him to my husband; he would not take another breath.  I recall a feeling of deep guilt for days even though there was nothing that could change the course of that day.  The baseball party ended with many heavy hearts and a thick fog hovering over us.  Our life as we knew it had changed forever, and no one knew how we would trek through another day.

We cancelled our 4th of July family vacation in Texas that week so we could remain at home with our family and friends for the funeral services.  Much gloom filled the days to come, and we spent our 4th of July watching fireworks with the Hopkins family along the Ohio River.  The Hopkins family shared that tragic day with us, and we found some strength in one another’s company.    

Later in the month, our family left for North Carolina so our oldest son could attend a baseball camp at UNC.   After the weekend camp ended, we made it a vacation and camped in the mountains.  We were thankful for some time away from home, where on occasion we would escape the nightmare for short periods of time.  We were soon reminded of home, when our security alarm sounded, and ADT Security called.  Thankfully, we were able to contact a neighbor to check on the house and no one had entered our home.  Somehow, one of the wires in the back door had been jolted and set off the alarm.

As the week went on, we were thankful for the beauty that can only come from God…sounds from the water rolling over the creek bed rocks, beautiful forestry in the mountains and the magic of a waterfall as it cascades down into a pool below.  Tiny blue butterflies flew around us, and we were amused when one landed on Adam’s shoulder.  This place, deep in the woods, secluded from the rest of the world, was like a piece of heaven on earth.  Here amidst the beauty of the North Carolina’s mountains we sought refuge from the storm.     

Another tidal wave made landfall while my mom, two younger sons and I sat awaiting the local parade.  The sirens were blaring and the parade was just beginning when out of nowhere a storm rolled into town.  We ran to our cars for shelter, not anticipating the intensity of the storm’s rage.  The strong winds jolted my Highlander from side to side with earthquake like force and huge pellets of hail torpedoed our windows.  I screamed at my boys to stay away from the windows and to cover their heads.  I knew the fear of God that day.  Later, as we drove the streets in search of an exit, I realized how blessed we were to have survived the storm.  Massive trees had been uprooted in every direction and windows had been shattered in many homes.  We later learned a micro-blast had erupted in Oakland City that day.  My spirit had been shaken once again and much destruction remained in my wake. 

Summer soon came to an end, and I had to part with my three sons as they returned to school.  I had kept a fairly tight leash on the boys after the events of the summer so this would be a difficult transition.  The school year seemed to be going along smoothly under the circumstances, but then one day a call came from the school nurse regarding my oldest son’s mood change.  She told me he was no longer the same happy, driven boy when he worked in the office.  She said he appeared to be depressed and had lost his sense of humor and fun-loving attitude.  The nurse also told me that my youngest son was making daily trips to the nurse’s office.  My boys were suffering from the tragedy of the summer and would need some professional counseling.

The struggles were mounting, and I was in dire need of some inner strength.  I had no knowledge of the raging water that would soon leave behind more destruction, but this time in a literal sense.  One evening as we gathered outside for a fun evening around the bonfire with friends, an overflowing toilet on the second floor flowed into the ceilings and walls and escaped into the kitchen and family room below, leaving behind a water disaster.  We lived in chaos for weeks as the workers dried out the house and started the repairs.  No matter the number of attempts, they couldn’t match the soiled area of the ceiling with the texture that already existed.  After bringing in their so-called, expert with no avail, they finally completely tore out the entire ceiling and began again.  Consequently, the estimated three weeks for repairs, turned into months.

Thanksgiving dinner was moved to my mom’s house, and just before Christmas, they were still painting the walls.  They soon discovered how displeased I was with their customer service as I shared a few choice words.  Then, at last, they were finishing up the final paint job in the kitchen, soon to be out of my house, and then they broke a piece of the counter while moving the stove.  No you cannot make this stuff up.  With Christmas, just days away, I finally asked them to pack up and come back at the beginning of 2013.  I had endured all I would of their non-stop, careless mistakes.  I was having Christmas at my house. 

On Christmas, a snow blew into town; it was beautiful.  The next day, with the snow still falling, my husband had to travel to work.  On his way, he became stuck in some heavy snow.  As he tried to gun his way out of the snow, he blew up the engine in the Camry, and we were now short one vehicle.  The real kicker in all of this is we have two four-wheel drives; I have no idea why he drove the Camry that morning.  This year had been one of the worst of my life, and I had reached a new level of brokenness.  I dragged myself through days of family activities and work, running on empty.  I endured mistrusting, accusations from my husband, and my home was in disarray.  Where would I muster the strength to weather the storm?

During the Christmas season, I visited one of my dear friends, who is a God-loving, spiritual soul, and we exchanged gifts. The gift I received was Jesus Calling by Sarah Young.  As 2012 came to an end, I prayed for new beginnings filled with peace and joy.  In 2013, I made a decision to arise each day with Jesus.  The road ahead would still be rough and there were many more bumps along the way, but I now sought Jesus for my spiritual strength.  This was the beginning of something beautiful, although at the time I had no idea how my story would unfold.  I wish for you many blessings in 2016, and I hope you will return to Peace Transcends for more of my story.

By Jeanette Lytle

A Christmas Eve Miracle

God has given us the responsibility to bear witness of his love and to save lost souls before Jesus comes again.  I could tarry through the day without regard for God’s calling or I could recount the Christmas Eve blessing God bestowed upon my family.  I choose the latter and so it goes…on Christmas Eve 2015, our family attended a wonderful Christmas Eve service at church and then returned home for a magical evening of decorating Christmas cookies for Santa.

I watched as Nana and the boys prepared angels, snowmen, Santa's, stars, candy canes, stockings and elves; I even made a few creations of my own.  What a joy it was watching them make the most adorable cookies you ever did see.  As the evening came to a close, the younger boys went upstairs to bed awaiting Santa’s arrival.  My oldest son stayed behind with me to clean the counters and stash away the evidence of our cookie production magic.

As I put away the cookie cutters, I thought I heard Adam’s name in my ear.  I turned to Adam and said, “I think your Nana is hollering for you.”  With the television blaring in the next room, he thought I was just hearing things and continued to clean.  Then, I said again, “Nana is calling your name from outside.”   As the dog started to bark, he decided maybe I was right.  He headed out the door, through the garage and to the outside.  Then, as I headed outside myself, I heard him holler, “Call 911, Nana has fallen.”

I frantically ran back inside screaming, “Call 911…Nana has fallen and can’t get up.”  Joe quickly made the call and passed the phone to me so he could grab some blankets.  He headed outside to cover Nana’s cold body as we anxiously waited on the paramedics.  Meanwhile back inside, the other two boys had heard me screaming and raced down the stairs.  I quickly explained the situation and told them to return to their beds.  As I stood at the bottom of the stairs, Austin headed upstairs and then did an about face, grabbed my hands into his hands and prayed his Nana would live.

Nana had fallen on her face in the driveway and was bleeding from several areas.  She said she was feeling nauseous and couldn’t move.  Thank God, she was still conscious.  When the paramedics arrived, they lifted her from the cold ground, onto the stretcher and then checked all her vital signs.  All was fine, but they feared she had a concussion from hitting her head on the hard ground.  Nana didn’t want to go to the hospital so they stayed a little longer for observation.  She was insistent on returning back inside so they lifted her to her feet and we walked her inside.

The paramedics told us to keep her awake for 2-3 hours because it was possible she was bleeding internally.  Around midnight, we determined she was in the clear and called it a night.  I climbed into bed and thanked God for saving Nana; this was a true Christmas blessing.

The next morning, as we discussed the night before, Nana and I agreed it wasn’t humanly possible for me to have heard her still small voice calling out for Adam; this had been a Christmas miracle. I will be forever grateful for God’s still voice in my ear and his saving grace.  On Christmas Eve 2015, I came to understand the true meaning of divine intervention and the significance of God’s gift.

 “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish but have everlasting life.”    John 3:16

The Storm

On June 30, 2012, the storm reached landfall, the tidal wave surfaced with immense force, and then the water subsided leaving heavy hearts and destitution in its wake.  All of the struggles throughout the past 15 years of marriage and raising three young boys, paled in comparison to what would befall upon that day.  Many lives would be forever changed.   

Travel back in time with me to a day when the world seemed right.  The afternoon embarked as the boys from the 8U baseball team arrived to celebrate the closing of their season.  They didn’t win any trophies, but they were a close-knit team and shared many fun times.  The boys ran around the yard shooting water guns, played on the swing set and swam in the pool throughout the day.  And, now and then they surfaced to snatch a bite to eat.  I captured many photos of their fun-filled activities and witnessed many magical moments on that hot summer day. 

Then as the evening was coming to a close, shortly after 7:00pm, as parents were packing up chairs and coolers to leave, it happened.  I heard my oldest son yelling for help.   As I ran toward the pool, I saw him passing a little limp boy to my husband as I silently prayed he wasn’t mine.  I will never erase that image from my mind, and I struggle right now to write this story.  The tears just won’t stop falling.  My son handed this young boy to my husband who laid him on the ground so another could start CPR.  CPR was performed non-stop as we anxiously waited on the paramedics.  What was probably minutes, seemed like hours, while our friends tried relentlessly to breathe life back into his still body.

As people and emergency vehicles were coming up the driveway from every direction, I dropped to my knees and begged and pleaded with God to spare this little boy’s life.   We were all praying so diligently so I just knew this little boy’s life would be spared.  I recall his dad standing with the team of emergency responders as they worked on his little boy, and his mom walking to the front of the house to gain her composure.  I followed her to the front yard, placed my arms around her to provide comfort and continued to pray.  I recall reassuring her that her little boy was going to survive.  I kept saying, “he is a tough guy…he is going to be alright…we have to have faith that he will live.”  Over 30 minutes went by without any response, and our faith began to grow weary.

Then, a loud rumble sounded above, and as I looked out across the field I saw the life flight coming down for landing and thanked God for its arrival.  As I watched them carry the stretcher down the drive way, I kept repeating, “He is a fighter.  He is going to be okay.”  I just knew he would be okay because I knew that the alternative meant no one would be okay.  They took him up in the helicopter, and then several families gathered inside our home to wait.  We waited and prayed for his healing for what seemed like days.  Then, the call came, the news had arrived…he didn’t survive.

Again, life as we knew it had changed forever.  The numbness set in and none of us knew how to move from the gloom and doom of this tragic moment.  Where would we find comfort and answers?  How would we find rest and rise again to another day?  How would we help our children through this dreadful tragedy?  There were no answers, only heartache and tears in the aftermath of the storm.

By Jeanette Lytle

A Cryptic Connnection

A startling presence was nudging me.  The persistent nudge eventually led me to act, and an unexpected crossing of two lives from two different generations captivated my soul.  Two lives sharing experiences of darkness unfolded into praise and glory for our savior.

On Saturday, November 21, 2015, I responded to an email from a student who missed an exam earlier in the week.  He told me he missed his exam because he was caring for his sick mother and became sick as well.  He had mentioned earlier in the semester that he was struggling to make it to class because his license had been suspended.   I asked him to stop by my office on Monday to talk about his situation.  I sensed this young man had a deeper story, and he may need more than academic advice.

As we walked to my office together, he asked me if I knew what it was like to have one bad thing happen after another.  I said, “oh yes, I know exactly what you are going through.”  I shut the rest of the world out for a moment and allowed grace to enter the room.  We addressed his class performance and discussed action steps he must take to pass the class.  I then removed my educator hat and exchanged it for a life coach cap.

I thought there may be other circumstances obstructing his studies so I told him I was there to listen.   He told me he tries to do the right things, but bad things just keep happening.  He added that he didn’t know how to cope with death as he explained that a fatherly figure in his life was dying of a disease and given two years to live. He didn’t understand how a person so healthy one day landed on his death bed the next.  He also discussed two friends that he lost in a tragic accident last year.

Sensing his need for hope, I shared my story of my best friend who was tragically killed in an accident.  As I provided context leading up to this tragedy, he asked me what years I attended college because his dad attended too.  When he mentioned his name, I knew it rang with immense familiarity.  Therefore, I stopped and viewed a recent photo of his dad and then concluded it couldn’t possibly be the same guy.

I continued the story of how my best friend stopped by after work because I was hosting a party, and many friends we hadn’t seen during the summer were gathering for a fun evening.  He stayed a short while and said he wasn’t feeling well.  I tried to convince him to stay the night, but he said his dad was expecting him.  He then headed out for some breakfast with some friends before heading home.

 This young man then asked where this happened.  As I answered his question, he blurted out “he was my dad’s roommate and best friend too.”   Yes, his dad was the same guy I knew many years ago at ISUE, and his dad had shared this same story with him. Our best friend crashed his car into a tree on his way home in the early morning hour of June 22, 1985.

 As tears flooded my eyes and chills ran through my core, I explained how his dad was the one who knocked on my door that dreadful morning over 30 years ago and delivered me the tragic news.  At that moment, within the four walls of my office, I knew God had nudged me to cross over the line and offer this young man grace. 

We both expressed sympathy toward one another’s pain and then talked about how only God could orchestrate this unexpected crossing of our lives.  What started as a young man’s search for coping measures, ended in the joy of me recalling those fun college days before my best friend left this world.

I shared a photo of his dad and our best friend in togas and also wrote down a song, "Just Be Held", for him to listen to in the quiet of his room.  I also recommended that he read God’s word and come by the office again.  This chance encounter bestowed far more blessings upon me than the grace and advice I extended to him. When you are called, extend your hand, cross over the line and love like Jesus.  

By Jeanette Lytle

80's Flashback

Have you ever wished you could travel back to a more joyous time, before busy schedules, hectic careers, and numerous obligations?  Jet back to the 80’s, a time of great music, fun styles and total freedom.  On June 22, 2012, I shared the day with a close friend watching the Rock of Ages at Showplace East.  The songs of Bon Jovi, Journey, Poison and other artists of the 80’s played as two young lovers ventured to Hollywood to chase their dreams.  Stacee Jaxx and his band jammed out on the stage.  The diehard fans, going crazy over Stacee, brought to mind the summer nights at Kramer’s Lake.  On Sundays, my friends and I would crowd in front of the stage and head bang to the music; we were young, wild and free.  Oh how I miss big hair, great music and the Magic Power of the 80’s. 

Tears began to flood my eyes, as the songs surfaced memories of a dear friend whose life ended in a tragic accident on this date in 1985.  I loved remembering all the fun times back then…cruising the back roads, swimming in the stripper pits, partying at the TKE house, and dancing the night away.  I will never forget my forever friend and all the amazing days we shared in the 80’s.

I recall an eerie feeling as my dear friend and I drove away from the theater that day, like a premonition of some sort.

Time for a slight intermission…visited the cemetery, watched my youngest son’s baseball game and then headed to Las Vegas for a conference with one of my USI colleagues.

We attended some conference sessions the next morning, and then, took a break by the pool.  As we were leaving the pool area, I heard a familiar voice in the distance.  I turned around and hollered their name, and sure enough my voice recognition was superb.  The intriguing part of this chance meeting was that this young man and my colleague attended USI at the same time several years ago.  The three of us made dinner plans for later in the evening and parted ways.

We met up for a Mexican dinner and then ventured out in search of some 80’s music.  We listened to a few bands at various hotels and enjoyed some dancing, but no worry I didn’t live out any of my head banging days.  This night was a definite cure for all the stress and worry of the past few months.  I couldn’t believe I was granted the opportunity to relive my days of dancing to the 80’s with two friends from another decade.   We had a blast that weekend, and the stress of my busy life began to diminish.    

The 80’s weren’t over yet.  As we waited for the cab for our red-eye trip home, we chatted with some guys loading some equipment into a commercial van.  When we arrived at the airport, they were in the luggage line behind us.  I decided to ask the name of their band.  When they told me they were with Eddie Money’s band, I thought “no way”.  But, as we approached the terminal, there Eddie Money stood.  We snapped a picture with him and listened as he told us about his family back in California.

That week in 2012 was so engrained in the 80’s that I couldn’t help but wonder, as I boarded the plane, if God planned to take me home that night.  The calm came over me when I arrived safely back home with no way of knowing a storm was on the horizon.  Again, I am thankful for the Angels God has placed in my life here on Earth. 

The Setback

Would I be able to stay on my spiritual course or would the devil that was lurking around the corner, steer me into the darkness?  I strolled down a well-lit path at the start of 2012.  I posted blessings in my journal and focused on giving more.  Then, as the year went along, my life started erupting like a volcano. Hot lava started flowing on my path of righteousness.  Finances were wreaking havoc on my life, the boys demanded much of my time and money, and then the evil surfaced in my youngest son’s Nook.

I opened up my Citibank statement and was astounded by the balance.  I knew about their high interest rates so I always paid off my monthly charge.  Also, I was the only user of this card, so I thought.  There was no way this was right.  I quickly scanned the items and noticed some obscure charges by google.com.  How could this happen?  I seldom make online purchases.  Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.  I had placed my card on my son’s Nook so he could use his gift card. 

The company set up their application whereby it requires a credit card on file in order to use a gift card for purchases.  After my son used up his gift card, he just kept on purchasing every book and app he wanted.  His bill totaled over $300.00.  I was outraged and furiously screamed at him for all these charges; after all I had told him not to spend more than his $25.00 balance.  Eventually, I calmed down and thought surely the company would feel sorry for me, given my level of ignorance, and take these charges off my account…no such luck.  However, they did remove the 12 most expensive items which resulted in a credit of about $80.00.  Then, I set out to teach my son a lesson.  We drove to the bank, removed $100.00 from his savings account, and then I granted grace allowing him to work off the other $142.00 through chores.  Be aware…there is evil lurking all around.

As time went on, I made fewer posts in my journal and started worrying about all of my problems, resulting in some sleepless nights.  My days of giving, reading the Bible and writing in my journal diminished.  I didn’t stop for one moment in March to record any blessings.  The next post was almost two months later when I was feeling major anguish toward one of my son’s baseball coaches.  The coach had cornered my son in the dugout, between the trash can and wall, and began cursing and threatening him.  I sat on the other side and watched my son storm out of the dugout, through the gate, spouting “I want to kill him”.  My son loved baseball so I pondered what to do about this situation.

I knew I could just move on, but I doubt my son would be able to continue in this environment.  I turned to prayer in this dark place.  A song by Josh Wilson, “I Refuse”, played on KLOVE one day and moved me to stand up for these young boys.  They had been experiencing this type of treatment for quite some time so I scheduled a meeting.  I spoke with the coach, along with his head coach, about that dreadful day in the dugout.  I also discussed other incidents that I became aware of during this time.  At the end of the conversation, they both agreed they would work on their attitudes toward the boys.  The baseball season became more peaceful, not a perfect situation yet, but my son enjoyed the rest of his season catching on the Varsity team. Then the calm ensued before the storm.

By Jeanette Lytle

The Preparation

Have you ever found yourself in the eye of a storm with no sense of direction?  Do you ever worry yourself into a frenzy?  Countless days of managing household activities and three young boys landed me here over and over again.  Many mornings consisted of me screaming, “hurry up, eat your breakfast, put on your shoes, get in the car” and the boys yelling, “mom, he hit me.”  Some days we would arrive at school and one of the boys didn’t have their shoes or one of them forgot their books.  I raced a 100 miles an hour in every direction as a wife, mother and educator.  Most days I found a way to take care of everyone else, but myself, not so much. 

In the fall of 2011, after years of sacrifice, I decided it was time to do something for me so I signed up for an activity called “Zumba”.  As it turned out, I loved Zumba and chose to include this in my already hectic schedule.  As you can imagine, no one in the house understood what this Zumba was all about that now consumed a few hours of my time each week.  The boys didn’t like the evenings they had to wait for dinner or when I wasn’t there for homework.   My husband had a difficult time understanding how I could just up and leave my family obligations.  As the conflict and bitterness heightened, I started asking myself "is this really worth it."  Well…I decided it was worth it, and I am still enjoying Zumba today.

I had now carved out some time for myself, but I was still overwhelmed with my life and lived in utter chaos most days.  One morning, a former student, and friend, called to invite me to a Christian Women’s Conference.  I told her I would love to go, but I just didn’t have the time.  I hung up the phone, and I began to cry.  Something inside me longed to say “yes” to this invitation, but I didn’t know how I could fit one more activity in my crazy, busy schedule.  Then, as though someone had reached out and smacked some sense into me, I called back and accepted.

We attended the conference on a Friday evening, and the night was filled with spiritual music and uplifting scripture.   Then, we returned on Saturday for a full day of music, drama, and inspiring stories.  “For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper you, not to harm, plans to give you hope and a future” radiated from the mouth of Lysa Terkeurst. This scripture, Jeremiah 29:11, really spoke to me that day.  I heard heart touching stories from Lysa and other women, and I was especially moved by Laura Story's song, "Blessings".  Upon leaving the conference, I decided to purchase a journal so I could record my many blessings and release my anguish through writing.  On the shelf that day stood a journal with this exact scripture--so began my spiritual journey.

My spirit was burning inside after the conference, and in the days to come, I wrote down countless blessings.  I also thanked God for my Angels here on earth.  I was becoming more than just a wife and mother; I was becoming one of God’s children.  I began to wonder what God had planned for me.  I had been attending church for over 15 years, but I never thought of myself as much of a Jesus girl.  I continued to spend more time listening to spiritual music and reading God's holy word.  And, during the Christmas season, in the spirit of giving, a friend and I gathered our families together to make Christmas baskets to uplift people in our community during the busy, holiday season.  A change had begun…with no way of knowing where it would lead.  Later the following year, I looked back and then saw this as a time of preparation for the hard days to come.

By Jeanette Lytle