My Greatest Memory From Mongolia

It began in Sant, a very poor village about 100 kilometers away from Darkhan. I had never seen poverty like this. Not even on TV. It's different when you are actually there. Gary, Janna, and I delivered food to five families. Each of them had very different but very emotional responses. Two of them cried the whole time we were there. Two of them smiled and told us they would never forget this day. One was bedridden but insisted on sitting up when we offered to pray for him. They all thanked us over and over for bringing this food.

I cannot accept this thanks, I thought. It's not my food to give. I didn't pay for it. It cost me nothing to bring it. I was overcome with unworthiness. I can't accept it. Yet I couldn't tell them that - even with a translator - so I said, "You're welcome."

But I couldn't get over my feelings. All night long, it bothered me that I accepted their thanks. All night long I wondered how long that bag of soup would last. How many muffins would their mix make? And how many servings of beans were in that can? Did they even own a can-opener? Would someone else come and give them more food before it ran out? Would they be worthy to receive thanks?

It was then, in my most broken-hearted state, that God was able to teach me. "It is OK to feel like this. Actually this is exactly how you should feel everyday that you carry My Name around. You are completely unworthy. It cost you nothing to become my child. Yet it cost Me everything."

Unworthy - that is me. Unworthy to receive thanks. Unworthy to be called a Christian. Unworthy to have been born into a two-parent family. Unworthy to have all of my needs met every day of my life. Unworthy to have been born in America. Unworthy.

Before Mongolia, I was proud. Now, I realize I was never worthy to begin with. Now I am just grateful. Overwhelmingly grateful. And I cannot forget how I learned this. And I cannot forget the people of Mongolia. I cannot forget that they still don't have all of their needs met - and that God can use me, unworthy as I am, to make a difference in their lives.

Be Bold... because God said so!

"Carla, I think they need a piano player. Go tell them you'll play!"

...but I'm just a participant here.
...I don't even know them.
...I don't want them to think I'm a show-off.
...they didn't ask me.

I have a million reasons to say 'no' to my husband. There's just one problem. That's the very thing God has been teaching me this year - to follow my husband. He has given Mark the vision for our family, not me. I am to listen to him and follow him as if he were my lord. (Ephesians 5.22) But that's another blog for another day.

So, I say 'yes' and I am the one to receive the incredible blessing of getting to praise my Lord on the keyboard and with my voice at our 2005 AIM Staff Conference. Then, to my surprise, I hear comments from my new AIM family saying that I blessed them. Incredible. How can God orchestrate something just for me and just for someone else at the same time? He is simply amazing. I love how intricately He has woven our lives together and how, at the same time, our lives may have nothing to do with one another.... It's really quite perplexing how it's all about me even though it's really all about Him.

Well, that's when the best part came. George, the worship leader that night, gave me the most brilliant insight. He gave me the freedom to become bold. No, the command to be bold. Here is what he told me:

When God annoints me to do something, He gives me the authority to do it. But I must do it with confidence. Take, for example, the worst sinner in the world. If he does the worst sins in the world, but he does them with confidence, people will follow him. So if God has annointed me and given me the authority in a situation, I must do it with confidence!

When looking for confirmation, I found the phrase, "Be strong and courageous" eleven times in the Bible. Wow!! How did I miss a thing so important that God said it not once, not twice, but eleven times?!

Now I know how to respond to God's daily guidance - with strength and confidence! (Unlike Moses' first example in Exodus 4.10-13.) I can already hear you asking, "Yea, but how do you know if it's God's guidance and not your own idea, or worse yet, the enemy's idea?" Well, that's where the ATL (Ask The Lord) and asking for confirmation comes in. But that blog will have to wait until tomorrow!

The Story of Tori

All day Tuesday, Tori had a low-grade fever and a sore on her gum. The bump grew larger and more painful and her face began to swell. By Wednesday morning, I knew something was wrong since the entire left side of her face was swollen and her temperature was finally over 100. Not knowing whether to go to the dentist or pediatrician, I called the nurse who said to come on now. We got in at our doctor at 1030 and by 1130, we were headed to the hospital (talk about shock!... you mean I'm going to the hospital? now?). My doctor said that infections can be life-threatening, so this was nothing to mess with. He told me he believed it was an abcess and that it would have to be drained (surgically) and that we would be at the hospital for a few days.

Mark met us as we were filling out papers at admissions. Good timing as Tori was starting to get REALLY scared. She had heard the words 'surgery' and 'drain the abcess' and was starting to really freak out. Daddys make great comforters!

At 1230 she got her IV. This was very scary for both of us. It was pretty hard - but she got through it and they even said she was very tough. She thought she was pretty wimpy, but they assured her that sometimes even grown men cry and that most boys/men are overall more wimpy than girls. (sorry guys...)

Next came a visit from friends and then a flower/stuffed animal delivery which both made Tori's day!!! I promise to go visit any of you if you end up in a hospital room! It makes all the difference in the world!! Thanks to all of you who did this for us :)

After that Mark left to get things ready to spend a few days and Tori and I began waiting for the CAT scan. After several books and a movie, they came for her at 330. I called Mark to let him know we were going in and he told Tori this would be a piece of cake. It was - and even Fuzzy got to do it with her!

After a few more books (530), the doctor came in to say that the films looked normal, so there was no abcess and there would be no surgery, but we would be staying for several more days, maybe til Monday for IV antibiotics. We rejoiced over the no surgery part and started calling people.

Then, at 630, the 2 ENT specialists came in and told us that it IS an abcess and she DOES need surgery, so it was scheduled for 715. (they said it was just small on the films... kinda fuzzie)

Well, later, after eating ice cream, Tori's bump started to bleed a little. I noticed that it wasn't just blood and her face lit up at the realization that it was draining itself! She immediately said she was praying it would drain completely by 715am so they could just cancel the surgery. But I told her that wasn't likely. And we all went to bed. (my brother took Kaylie home so Mark got to stay too - yippee!)

At 7am this morning, they wheeled Tori to the holding room with all the other 'bodies' - it was a strange experience. Just before Tori woke up, I had been trying to think of something profound to say to her before she would go in the OR - like on Madeline when Ms. Clavell said, 'you can do anything.' Now, we were wheeling her down the hall and I had forgotten about being profound - I was only thinking that my baby girl might be afraid. Then Mark said, "You know what to do" and Tori said "Yep". Clueless me said, "What?" and Tori answered, "Cast your cares upon Him for He cares for you." I Peter 5:7. Thank you God for caring for my baby. and for me. and for Mark. and for Kaylie. Thank you that we have a place to throw down these heavy weights.

After meeting the anesthesiologist and nurses and doing prep stuff, the doctor came in and we all said our good mornings. He asked how Tori was and she told him it had been draining. He suddenly got excited and took a quick look and said "Then let's cancel this! We don't need to spend this money."

All I'm thinking is - No Way!!!! That was just a childish idea, nothing but a hope, a prayer.... But you know what? It was an ANSWERED CHILDISH PRAYER!!

The doctor wrote in her chart as we all stood amazed - then he even wrote discharge orders. Mark bent over Tori and we all thanked God together. We were back in the room by 730 - who can we call this early???!! We were excited! Of course we didn't really get to leave until 10 - but what did we care - NO SURGERY!!!!

After Mark went to work, we just had to wait to actually be discharged. At one point, Tori and I were just sitting together on the bed and Tori broke out into song - 'Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice'. And then, in a little while, 'God is So Good', being sure to sing the 'He answers prayer' verse, and 'I love Him so'. What a precious time.

After visiting the room where Tori was born, we headed home for a short while. She had a dentist appointment at 130. My dentist doesn't let mommies go back, so this was very hard for the two of us who had spent the last 24 hours together - through theinitial shock, the IV, the CAT scan, down the long hallway to surgery - and now I have to wait with the other mothers... the one's whose kids are just getting their teeth cleaned.

I was worried as ever now. What were they doing to her? Were they pulling the tooth? Were they being careful around her sore? Was she OK? Did she need me? Was she in pain? I was about to go nuts and for some strange reason (this never happens), I didn't have a book. I eventually succumbed to reading an article about the superbowl halftime show. I almost puked - even though the article was agreeing that it was planned and wrong.

I couldn't take it anymore and asked the next hygenist I saw if she would check on Tori. A few minutes later, now 230, they called me back. When Tori saw me, she came running to me crying. I couldn't help it, I started crying too. She said, "He pulled my tooth and it wasn't even numb!!" At that moment, I remembered the ENT's telling me that the pus inside an abcess is so acidic that it somehow keeps the nerves from accepting a local anesthetic. OH MY -- SHE TRULY FELT THE WHOLE THING!!!!!!! We were both crumpled heaps crying in the middle of the dentist's work area. I was a little embarrassed that I'm the mother, supposed to be helping my child and here I am crying with her. I explained to the hygenists and the dentist that we had had a hard day! We got out of there as fast as possible and headed home. We planned our rehabilitation: an Oreo Shake from Jack-in-the-Box and a trip to her cousin Kimberly's house to play and then take Kaylie home!

But before we could start rehab, we were still falling apart inside, both just needing to cry. As we were gathering things to take on the trip, I realized this and called Tori over to my lap and we just rocked and prayed. We reminded ourselves and God that although we felt terrible and weak, we had NOT forgotten what He had done for us that morning. We STILL rejoice!! We STILL sing God is So Good. And we STILL know where our help comes from - even when we just want to cry.

And then we were off - at 345 - we left our heavy weights and began our rehab. And it was perfect. And I watched my baby play and smile and run around with her cousins. And now we're home. And all is well.

I told my sister-in-law that I feel like a new mommy with a new baby... kinda hard to let her out of my sight. I want to know she's ok. no fever. no pain. no swelling. Guess I've got some more weights to lay down....

Thank You God for holding us in Your hands. Thank You for friends that lift us up in prayer and make such a hard thing not as unbearable as we think. Thank You God for caring for Tori.

The Lindberg Saga

It all started early last year, January 2002. Mark began telling me about his desire to get back into teaching. I hoped this would pass. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that God had something different for him, so he began praying for that. I didn’t really hear more about it until June of 2003, when Mark told me he had been begging God to steer us. God said it’s hard to steer if the car is in park. That day, Mark came home saying it’s time to put it in gear and let God direct our paths (Proverb 3:5-6). He felt the first step God was leading us to take was to put our house on the market. He also told me that he believed that God had told him that his future was not at DART. We began to get excited, dreaming about the new house God was planning for us. Would it be big? have a pool? have room for a horse? be in the country? be in Texas? What about a new job? would it just fall in our laps as DART had? We were dreaming big!

Next, we met with our realator to take the first step. The first step, it appears, is getting the house ready to be put on the market. That means cleaning it up. “But it’s as clean as it’s going to get!!” I said, “there’s no where to put all of this stuff - hence the need for a bigger house.” His advice was to begin packing, since we’re moving anyway. So, the packing began...

Then, the overwhelming waves began crashing all around. I’m no good at cleaning, at organizing a home, at teaching my children to clean and organize. I’ll be the only one cleaning, organizing, sorting, packing, moving... This will NEVER get done!! We’ll NEVER get it clean. We’ll NEVER put it on the market. We’ll NEVER sell it. We’ll NEVER move. We’ll have to live here FOREVER and DIE in this little house!! Then, God spoke to me so clearly - “I didn’t call you to the future, but only to the present. And all I’ve asked you to do today is clean it up and pack it up.” Oh.... ok. (Obedience is better than sacrifice.)

Of course, around the same time (July 2003), God was calling me to a closer walk with him. It all started with Beth Moore talking about her passionate love for Jesus. I was intrigued with her words. I had known Jesus for 30 years and didn’t talk about him the way she did. I asked our Bible study group if any of them felt the way she did. Only one said yes. Later, she shared with me that her relationship with God changed dramatically when she separated her Bible study from her quiet time. The thought had never really occurred to me. Every Bible study I did was another notch in my belt. Bible study is a real passion of mine. I love getting lost in His Word and finding little jewels and treasures hidden in the text for any who would pursue them. (I’m just realizing that I talked about Bible study the way Beth Moore talked about Jesus.) So, no changes in my ‘quiet time’ - yet.

By early-August, I was fed up with life. What’s the point? I secretly wondered. We get up, do the same things every day, nothing ever changes, and it needs to!! Life of earth is ‘crap’. Sin abounds, even in our churches, even in our own ‘holy’ lives. I had all I wanted of this world. Then Mark and I went to a marriage retreat on August 9 and 10 where I confessed this to him and found that he, too, was struggling with what we both decided was depression. We came to the conclusion that this was because we had reached all of our goals. We had achieved everything we had ever striven for. We were married, built a house, bought 2 cars, a computer, a grand piano, had 2 successful teaching careers (Mark’s dream job), and now an even better job (Mark’s fantasy job), had 2 beautiful daughters, who were turning out perfectly.... So now what? I wondered to Mark. He said, we set new goals - but not the kind that man can say we’ve reached. He wants the goals that only God can say, well done. Enter into my rest you good and faithful servant.

So we began brainstorming. We listed every goal we could think of. Every goal we could ever aspire to. Things like - knowing and being exactly where God wants us to be at all times and being a missionary family (not missionaries, but a family whose goal is to share Jesus with everyone we encounter). At the end of our brainstorming, our list was quite big - too overwhelming for me to keep them all, so we narrowed them down into two pots, just as Jesus boiled down the 10 commandments into 2 main ones. And ironically, ours sound very much like Jesus’. Family goal #1 - Serve God and family goal #2 - Serve others.

Right away, I set out to run for the prize. I was going to serve God. And that meant making Him the very ‘air I breathe’. What does that mean? I wondered. And that was the day I made the commitment to spend time on my knees every morning in a quiet time - separate from my Bible study time. I told God that if He wasn’t going to be the air I breathe, then I don’t want air.

The Day

It's now Thursday morning, the day after "The Day." You won't believe what I am about to write, so let me begin by stealing Dave Barry's line, "and I am not making this up!" Honest!

So, yesterday, we went to the zoo with our friends. On our way home, we saw a wreck literally right in front of us. I watched in horror as a truck went from the far left lane across my lane and then across the other 4 lanes of traffic, attempting not to miss his exit, I suppose. I pointed him out to the girls, who, by the way were being perfect, thank goodness - so I was really concentrating on my driving - , "Look at that guy, he's going to get somebody in a wreck." And sure enough he did.

On his last lane, he bumped a little white car which then started careening left across all 6 lanes of the freeway. By now, I had slowed down, watching it all and remembering how my daddy taught me to drive defensively (which basically to me means, "See that car, what would you do if he was going to run into you?") So now, this little car is crossing in front of me and hits the car in the lane to the left of me. This is a red jeep or something. Those 2 cars are sliding down the freeway against the rail right next to me. Of course I am really going slow now, and then the jeep starts going "up and down and up and down" in Kaylie's words. It rolled at least 2 and 1/2 times and landed in my lane on the roof. And while it's rolling, I am watching stuffed animals and a stroller come pouring out of the windows.

When I was sure all traffic was stopped, I told the girls to pray and not to be scared, we were perfectly safe, but I had to go see if I could help the baby in that car. I watched the mom crawl out of the passenger window and run around the car (to get her child) and I also saw 5 men running to her car to help and at least 2 people standing out of their cars on their cell phones. I picked up the stuffed animals and the stroller and started towards the car. One of the men came towards me to get the stroller. "Is the baby okay?" I asked. "Yes, he's fine."

Now, I'm almost bawling, but I continue on and give the boy his animals. He's standing with a chicken nugget in his hand by his mother who's on the phone. He was crying and I was trying hard not to. They were fine and suddenly I noticed my van sitting in the middle of a freeway that was now moving. And my girls are in there!!!

Deciding that they had plenty of help, I went back to move my van. I never found out how anyone else was.

We were really shaken, but grateful that the mother and baby were not hurt, and also grateful that we were not involved - as we certainly could have been! The girls wanted to call their daddy and tell him all about it. After he heard the story, he said when he got home, he would take us out to dinner and I didn't have to worry about getting anything ready. So, when he came home, we headed to Chik-fil-a. After eating, the girls were playing outside on their playground. When Mark and I came out to see them, I saw them and said, "Run to your daddy," which they did. Unfortunately, a boy was running the opposite direction and ran right into Kaylie, knocking her down into the window ledge - which has a very sharp metal edge. As I was holding her, I noticed the blood on her head and then saw the cut. It was about 1 inch long and was opened pretty bad (we thought).

So, we called our doctor's office (this was about 7 at night) and he sent us to the emergency room. On our way there, (and let me remind you I am NOT making this up), we got a flat tire. We could see the hospital and Mark thought we would just drive on it until I assured him that a few minutes wouldn't matter that much. I was keeping ice on it and she was crying, but not because it hurt. She was crying because she did not want to go to the hospital. At one point, she even tried to convince me, "my boo-boo is all better, Mommy."

Eventually we made it to the hospital. We were seen immediately and told that she would definately need staples (that's easier for wiggley kids, he said.) Then we waited a long time for them to take us back. They numbed the wound and the surrounding area with a blue liquid and wrapped up her head like a little indian girl. Then, we had to wait 30 minutes for it to get very numb.

While we were waiting, Tori and Kaylie played doctor/patient. Each taking turns at each role. It was fun watching Kaylie lying on the bed (which she didn't even do for the doctor) and Tori asking her what was wrong. Kaylie would tell the same story we did just minutes before and Tori would tell her the same diagnosis we had just heard. It was funny! Then, when it was Tori's turn to be the patient, Kaylie would ask her what's wrong and Tori would say, "I have pink eye." (She really does - she got it in California - that and an ear infection. She's all better, but still has to take her antibiotic, which she loves because it is bubblegum flavor.) So anyway, they would go through the same dialogue and we were amazed to see the accuracy of their diagnoses and treatments!

Finally, the doctor came in (actually a nurse practitioner, but we didn't care, he was great with Kaylie) and won her over. Then he told us we would have to hold her down and she would probably scream and kick, because all kids did, even the calm ones. He asked if she was a calm one. We laughed.

So, I sat on the bed and held her in my lap. Mark held her hand and I wrapped my arms around her and watched. (Why did I do that?) He had to push down on her head with the stapler and that is the part that scared her and hurt her a little. The wound was numb, so she wasn't feeling that, but the pressure and her nervousness made her cry. She did not scream or kick, or even move for that matter. She just whimpered. We were so proud of her for being so brave! When I told her how brave she was, she said "No I wasn't, I cried." I tried to convince her that even brave girls cry a little and she certainly was brave!

We got home at 9:30 and The Day was finally over. I had to wake her at 3am, per doctor's instructions. That was a hard task. I finally sat her up and she said, "I want to go to sleep." So I asked her her name and she replied "Kaylie." Then I asked her my name and as sarcastically as she could, she said "Carla." So I tucked her in and went to bed in peace!

Now, she is tap-dancing in the front hall with Tori and asking me to play the piano for them, so I must go......