Volunteering Done Well

During our lifetimes, there are plenty of opportunities to volunteer for things. It is likely that you can count, with ease, several occasions when you have volunteered for something...or two somethings...or fifteen. Perhaps all at one time. Or maybe you've been more methodical in your approach to volunteerism (is that a word?) and only volunteered for one thing at a time. If that's you, high five to you! 

One of the things that I have noticed about some people who volunteer is that they sometimes are not very happy about what they are doing. This is evidenced by the amount of grumbling they may do when they talk about the said volunteered-for efforts. 

To be clear, I am absolutely, 100%, full on, without a doubt, guilty of this myself. Seriously - like, to a fault. In fact, I remember talking (complaining) about all the things on my plate at one time in my life that included being a single mom of two younger children, working full time, going to school part time, and volunteering for a number of things - yes, all at the same time. I felt overwhelmed, rightfully so. But a friend who patiently listened to all my woes quietly suggested to me that maybe there was too much going on and perhaps it was a good time to cut back on some of those things so life would be a little less stressful. (I'm looking at you, RF...) 

That comment stung but it was the truth. In a really big way. But, it was really great advice which I eventually did take though it took time. 

Were the things I was volunteering for good causes? Yes! 

Were they things I was interested in? Of course! 

Did my participation make a difference? Mmmm...maybe. 

Should I have politely turned down those opportunities to volunteer? Most likely. 

Now (slightly) older, the decision to invest in a particular event, program, or organization is made with a bit more thought and consideration. I want to be a productive member and bring value to the table...and I want to do it because, well, I WANT to. I now know that I CAN say no. And so can YOU.  

Volunteering? Here are a few things to consider: 

1) Not interested? Just say no. (PS: don't feel obligated to explain why you are saying no but if you do explain, do it with the intention of helping the other person understand what you might be interested in helping with if it applies in the future.) 

2) If it interests you and promises to be challenging, consider saying yes despite the challenge because getting a bit out of your comfort zone can be helpful in building character. (Or building some other attribute, skill, or value that you hadn't considered before.)  

3) If you aren't sure, ask questions until you can make the decision with confidence. 

4) If you know you are already overtasked and have zero or very little margin in your life, please say no. Say no for you, for your people, and for the cause. When you overcommit, besides the high stress and anxiety you produce for yourself and possibly your family, you likely aren't able to bring your best to the table for this which can create its own issues. 

5) If you say yes, say yes with a smile and have fun with it! It's not always going to be "fun" but then again, it might be. Why not make the best of it? 

6) Interested but haven't been asked yet? Seek out the opportunity and let the committee / team know of your interest. Don't be shy! 

A quick rant: when did it become required, or the "norm", to complain, grumble, gossip, and/or act irritated or mad about something that you volunteered for? In talking to some friends recently about a volunteer opportunity, we talked about how the people desired for those positions were those who actually WANTED to volunteer and be involved, not those that just say yes out of obligation. 

Still not sure? Try this...

If your answer sounds something like this: "I'd love to", or "Oh! That sounds like fun, count me in!", or "I'm in!" - then you're in the right place. 

If your answer sounds something like this: "I can if you need the help", "Yeah. I can probably make that work.", or "I guess so" - then just say no. 

Please. 

For the love of everything good...just say no. 

For those looking for volunteers, a word of advice if I may: 

1) Stop trying to fill a need with "a body", any body. Instead, think about those who might connect more deeply to the need and/or have a particular skillset that may be needed. 

2) Be intentional in who you reach out to. And by the way, be able to verbally communicate why they were asked. ("We thought of you for this because of ________" sounds a lot better than "we are trying to get 6 people to help with ____.") 

3) Be inclusive, not exclusive. Having a diverse group of people at the table with different experiences and different skills can be incredibly helpful in making the outcome something that is more well-rounded and complete. 

4) Think outside the box. Stop asking the same people over and over and over and over again. 

5) Don't ask for volunteers like it's a blanket statement...or put out a piece of paper for people to sign up for it. Just don't. 

6) Extend a personal ask! This is a big one. Literally walk up to the person, call them, write an email or a hand written letter (a forgotten art!), DM them on social media...whatever it takes. Just ask them personally if they would consider participating (and specifically why you are asking them.) 

One final thought...in case you need a good reason to actually volunteer, below is a link to a Harvard Medical School blog explaining how volunteering may be good for your body and for your mind - a great read! :-) 

Harvard Medical School on Volunteering

Thinking of something that might have been missed here? Leave it in the chat below. We can be better together. 

May your next (or current) volunteer effort be meaningful, impactful, productive, and fun! 

Celeste

Happy New Year!

Happiest of New Years to you! Hopefully everyone had an opportunity to take a break over the holidays to rest and reflect on the past year, enjoy loved ones, and set your sights on your next adventure. 

It seems nearly impossible that we are already in 2023. How can that be? Growing up people often were heard saying that time goes by so fast. The older I get, the more truer that becomes. For you too? 

For me, it is also true that I increasingly cherish the excitement of a new year. Like, giddy excitement. Literally. In fact, as an avid bullet journaler, the journal for the new year is often purchased in November or early December. The official opening of the bullet journal usually happens after Christmas. That remains true this time too! 

So, how did you prepare for this new year? Or is your plan to not plan?

Did you make note of the things that are carryovers from last year (or the year before for those of us who are still working on longer-term projects) that need to be completed? "Longer-term projects" is a nice way to say something is taking too long or is the victim of procrastination.😁 

Did you wipe the slate clean for everything else? 

Have you penciled in the vision for your new year? Or maybe penned it in? Perhaps you used a permanent marker instead? (High five to you!)

Do you have a plan in place? 

Did you identify your word-of-the-year and / or a verse-of-the-year to help guide you and keep you focused? 

All organized? 

Ready to jump right in? 

Yeah, me too. 

Let's go! 

It's worth repeating: Happy New Year! 

CMN

Finding Joy in Grief

"Grief is a reminder of the depth of our love. Without love, there is no grief. So when we feel our grief, uncomfortable and aching as it may be, it is actually a reminder of the beauty of that love, now lost." (Gordon Wheeler)

Each year on the anniversary of Mario's death, and the day following it which happens to be his birthday, out of self-preservation perhaps, my calendar has been blocked off. Doing so allows for much needed flexibility in the day to make room for the raw emotions that flow. This year is no exception.

There is a excerpt from The Book of Joy that I love and speaks to this: "To linger in the longing, the loss, the yearning is a way of feeling the rich and embroidered texture of life, the torn cloth of our world that is endlessly being ripped and rewoven."

It seems nearly impossible that today marks five years since Mario was stripped from our lives. In some ways it feels much longer but in other ways, it has gone too quickly. As I look back over the last five years, there have been a few things that stand out about the grieving process:

1. The vapors of his life still exist: As many of you have reached out with a note of encouragement, sharing a memory of Mario, or simply offered prayers for our family, we have been touched. In doing this, we are comforted that he is not forgotten and that you also think about him and remember him. 
2. Parental duties don't stop: I can't adequately explain this but as Mario's mother, I feel a sense of responsibility (sometimes this equates to desperation) to ensure he is not forgotten. It feels somewhat as though in doing so I am still protecting him. Still looking out for him in a way. Still caring for him and taking care of him. 
3. Sharing about him is just that, about him: sometimes when I come across a memory, a picture, something from the past, it gets shared in a variety of ways. When that happens, it is not a cry for attention or for sympathy as some may think. My son existed and for those of you who knew him personally, you know that he lived a "loud" life. He was vibrant, gregarious, chatty, funny, compassionate and was that "in your face" (in a good way) kind of guy. Before Mario's death there was a pretty constant flow of sharing funny stories, precious moments, etc. and that doesn't just stop because his heart stopped beating. 
4. Life (and death) are full of life lessons: as I continue to reflect on Mario's life and death, they serve as reminders to me that life is short; there truly isn't much in life to stress about ("Ain't Stressin" was Mario's final tweet); that relationships matter; to always say goodbye; to live life in a way that is purposeful and driven even when under pressure to do something different. 
5. Be grateful: we truly have so much to be thankful for in life. We also have so much to be thankful for in death. Verbalizing the things that we are thankful for is a healthy way to keep a good balance in life and helps avoid the mental trap of focusing on the negative. Is dealing with a death, especially a death of a child difficult? You bet. But when I begin to think about all the things there are to be thankful for (my children, the privilege of being a mom, the memories that make me literally laugh out loud still today.......the list is long), I am reminded of how much there is to be grateful for and it is uplifting. 

Each person's grieving process is different. It looks different. It feels different. It does not come in a box with a pretty little bow. It is messy. It has no timetable. It has no end. To expect a person to "just get over it" is unrealistic. In case you aren't aware, time does not heal all wounds. However, the grieving process is just that - a process. And through the process, there is joy to be found. Joy in the memories, joy in the love, joy in the life once lived, joy in your life lived today. 

May you find it too. 

"Grief is a reminder of the depth of our love. Without love, there is no grief. So when we feel our grief, uncomfortable and aching as it may be, it is actually a reminder of the beauty of that love, now lost." (Gordon Wheeler) 

Rejoice!

As my family and I go through the holidays this year with an obvious hole in our home, our celebrations, and our hearts, we'd like to thank all of your for your prayers of comfort, peace and for your continued support of us in various ways.

Admittedly, I have been walking cautiously through Thanksgiving and in preparing for Christmas under the name of "good self-care"; protecting my heart, attempting to stay in a "safe" place for me, and frankly, dreading the holidays to some degree. There is a part of me that has wanted to just close my eyes and not open them again until after it is all over just to avoid going through it. The thought of Mario not being with us this year, and in the years to come, brings with it a great deal of heartache - and it is in that spirit that I have been preparing my heart and my emotions. Read that, I have been solely focused on me.

That brings me to the sermon from this morning given by our Pastor Jason Braaten. (A link to read or listen to the whole sermon is provided below if you are interested - it is well worth your time.) The focus of the message this morning was around Philippians 4:4 - 7.

"⁴ Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! ⁵ Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. ⁶ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ⁷ And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

As the message was unfolding, my mind began to justify my more negative mindset: "I am thankful. That is enough." It is true that somehow God has allowed me to continually be thankful for the people around me, the relationships, the provisions, the blessings, and the list goes on... But what these verses were saying was something well beyond just being thankful. They are calling me (and you) to rejoice in the Lord. Not just when the times are good. Not just when it is convenient. But always. There simply is no way to wiggle around, or misinterpret the word "always". It is an absolute. It is measurable. And it is much more than just being thankful.

Rejoice: to feel joyful, be delighted. (dictionary.search.com)

Today has been a good reminder of how often we get so focused on ourselves, and while it may seem justified to be that way circumstances-dependent, it is also a good reminder that when we drop our gaze from the One who saves, we will forget to rejoice.

I'd like to encourage you to join me in not focusing so much on the gifts, the food, the events, and all the other things we tend to stress over, including our losses. Instead, focus on rejoicing in the Lord; being joyful and delighting in Him. He clearly promises a peace that you can't get anywhere else. Join me in resting in that peace today, throughout the holidays, and moving forward through life.

Below is an excerpt from this morning's message that is meaningful. When you read through this, know that it isn't just a message for those that have lost someone. It is a message for all of us. Regardless of what the stressors are.

Thanks again for your prayers. My prayer for each of you is that you will be able to relax in the true meaning of this season. That together we will realize that it isn't about us at all, but it is all about Him. That we are able to keep our eyes on God and joy in our hearts. That we will never cease to Rejoice!

Merry Christmas to you all of you, with love.

"So rejoice, dear Christians; again I will say, Rejoice. The Lord is at hand. And despite your present suffering, despite the sorrow you have for those loved and lost, despite the fact this time, this season, this Christmas is not the same as you always remembered, or even as you always imagined it to be, there is a fitting and reasonable joy in your midst nevertheless. Because the Lord is at hand." ~ Rev. Jason Braaten


http://immanueltuscola.org/sermons/the-fourth-sunday-in-advent/

What are your stop signs?

There are some things in life that are just so profound that we just don't forget them. Sometimes this is in the form of something big, but sometimes it could be a very small detail. One of those profound times for me is when I received the phone call on March 6th letting me know about Mario's accident. After a very hesitant and compassionate deputy coroner shared the news that Mario did not survive, she very methodically began to share the details of the accident as she knew them.

It is a very distinct moment for me when she told me of the location of the accident, describing the quick jog in road where Mario lost control of the car. Even as the fog of reality began to surround me, it is with clarity that I remember knowing the exact location she was talking about - the picture of the jog in the road easily came to mind. It was a familiar part of the country road I had traveled on many times. Even in the light of day that part of the long road could be precarious, so it was pretty easy to understand how there could be a problem when it was dark outside with no lights on the road, especially for a pretty new driver, as he was.

My mind has wondered more than once: if only there had been a stop sign there when Mario was taking that road, would he still be here with us? I cannot allow myself to dwell there. I know that Mario's destiny was written long before I ever knew it. But what if putting stop signs on that corner could prevent someone else's death? For six months, that has been a question that has rattled around in my brain.

Although unsure what it would take to get the stop signs put into place, my imagination went to work: would it be a city issue or county? Would I have to fill out a bunch of paperwork to request it? Would I have to stand in front of a panel of unknown people to petition for it? How much would it cost? Where do I even start? Am I strong enough to begin this unknown process? With no answers to any other questions, I did know for sure the answer to the last question was "no".

Until now.

Earlier this week I reached out to a friend of our family who I thought might be able to provide some direction. He agreed that something needed to be done and committed to looking into how to go about it.

Fast forward to last night when there were a series of events that happened, one right after another. I happened to run into Mario's pediatrics physician assistant whom he adored...and she adored him. I had not seen her since his death so it was an emotional time of greeting each other and catching up. Trying to keep it together while driving away from that chance meeting, the song Amazing Grace came on the radio. This is the song that I used to sing to the kids as they were growing up and one of the songs that was sung at his funeral. Of course, that brought the emotions to a new level. Towards the end of the song, my phone rang. It was the friend I had reached out to earlier in the week about the stop signs.

This is the good news I get to share....

After speaking to a few people, he was able to get into the right person in the city works area. The person he was talking to was aware of the accident and the outcome of it. Since then that area had been on their radar screen and field testing had been conducted, a federal grant had been written, and they were waiting for final approval. I instantly thought to myself, "how much could two stop signs be? Why the federal grant?" I wanted to interrupt and offer just to pay for the stop signs but instead just continued to listen. The grant, he said, was for a million dollars. Imagine my surprise! I know the government has been known in the past for charging an enormous amount of money for things, but that is ridiculous, I thought.

My friend went on to explain that the grant wasn't for stop signs, it was to redo the road. (((Pausing for effect))) It took a second for that to sink it. He continued to gently tell me that the road had been on the radar screen for some time. They knew it was an issue because there had been accidents there before, however, sometimes with things like this it isn't until there is a death that it becomes serious. A priority. And they have enough cause to push the request through. With the loss of Mario, they now had enough to push it through. And, if things go as they expect for them to, the grant will be approved, the project funded, and the road work will begin in the spring.

Anyone else feeling overwhelmed in a good way?

The first thing that came to mind is how I was just looking for some simpleton stop signs. That was my solution. But God pushed me out of the way, before I even got in the way, and went well beyond that. I am ashamed at how small I made God and the box I tried to put Him in. And I'm incredibly thankful that my God is a BIG God with whom nothing is too big or too small for.

While it is sad that someone had to die for this issue to get fixed...and not just any someone - it was our Mario. But I'm not mad. It is sad to me, but I'm not mad. Nor do I want anyone else to be. I wouldn't wish this on anyone and once the road is done, of which they say you won't hardly be able to tell there was a jog in the road, I will have the peace that no one else will die because of that jog.

And this is reason # 542 that proves Mario's death is not in vain. ("542" is a completely made up number - it's probably actually something like #999.) I still believe with all my heart that this was Mario's destiny and it was all part of the plan. I know I've said that multiple times and you may be tired of hearing it, but it is the truth that I continue to hang onto. He fulfilled his God-given purpose both in life AND in death.

I am in awe.

Lord, thank you for being in the details. Thank you for caring so much about the small and the big details of life. Forgive me for making You so small with my simple requests and for thinking I have the answers. Thank You for going so far over-the-top to show me that you love me - and many others. 

More than anything, thank You for choosing me to be Mario's mom and allowing me 17 years with him. Thank You for continuing to show me how full of life he was, and continues to be. Give my boy a hug and kiss for me (be careful, he might slobber on you on purpose) and get one back from him - he's good at that, as you must know by now. 

With Abandonment I Write

Sometimes it seems impossible that it has been over six months since Mario left us. The strange thing is that the further away from that day I get, and as life continues to go on for me and my family, the harder it seems to get. The old adage of "time heals all wounds" simply is not true.

By far, the hardest part of my grieving process has been not being able to touch Mario. I miss the moments of him hanging on me so much that I had to tell him to "get off!" or to stop putting all of his 150 lbs of weight on me. I miss all the hugs that I would get from him...ALL the time. I miss the crazy amount of kisses that he would plant on my cheek and forehead. Sometimes when he would plant that kiss, he would hold it there as long as he could until he was laughing so hard he was drooling on me and I was laughing so hard I had tears coming down my face. And I miss hearing his voice calling for me because he needed something, or wanted to tell me something...or just telling me he loves me.

I'm not trying to be all sappy here. This is my new reality. Everyone's grieving process is different. I've come to terms with that and have accepted the fact that this feeling will not go away. Ever. Something that I'm okay with too. The way I see it, as long as I can feel the loss of Mario, I still feel Mario. Or perhaps it is the other way around: as I still feel Mario in my life, it makes the loss of him real.

So that brings me to this morning. On my 35 minute commute to work today I was having what I now affectionately call "a moment". A moment = when I feel Mario and emotionally feel the loss of him in a very real way. I was struggling to keep it together but knew I would soon arrive to work and go straight into a meeting that I needed to be focused on. After the meeting I was still struggling a bit emotionally with no known trigger for the emotion.

Back at my desk I found an email from a coworker in my inbox. The explanation in it was that his daughter had to write an essay for her National Honor Society application. The topic was on a person that has influenced her life and he thought I might like to see it. As I opened the essay and started to read it, I had to shut my door. With their permission, I am sharing that essay with you:

****

                I will never forget one specific day of my sophomore year in high school.  March 7^th, 2014, my world came to a standstill when I woke up to a text that my close friend Mario McNeill had died the night before in a car crash near my house.  I immediately could not breathe and began to cry.  Mario had a huge impact on my life before and after he died.  Even now he is still a huge influence on my day to day life as well.  We had met several years earlier, we took the same bus route together on our way home from middle school.  The first time I met him was on a yellow school bus, in the very back seat, I needed a seat and he wouldn’t let me sit by him.  After a few awkward starring moments, he finally slid over and let me get the remaining 12 inches of the bench.  The way he smiled just made you fall in love with him and his personality, regardless of his sarcastic actions.  We became good friends after that awkward bus seat encounter.  I would ride my bike to his house weekly and he would come out, smile, and we would talk just about anything.  From random bike rides to lovely “Mario style” good morning texts, there wasn’t one single thing you could dislike about him.  Not really knowing many people walking into high school was tough, but when I sat down at the cafeteria table on an early August morning my freshman year, Mario was right beside me either laughing or sending me funny snapchat pictures of myself.  Mario was the definition of a perfect friend, never making you feel sad or worthless, just all smiles and hugs.  He loved hugs.  My day of March 7^th was mostly spent in the councilor’s office running though millions of Kleenex’s trying to dry my eyes.  One thing that made Mario a person of influence in my life was his connection to God.  Passing him in the hallways hearing him trying to convert atheists to Christianity was so heart touching.  His love for God and sharing his message was his passion.  I already know Mario would have most likely been a pastor or some kind of people person sharing his infatuation for the one he lived for.  His impact in my life has been nothing but positive.  Through him, I have made friends that will last a lifetime, a stronger relationship with God, and a friend I look forward to seeing again when it’s my turn to go.  Overall, he taught me that life is short and we need to spend every second living like it’s our last, serving the one who allows us to be on this earth.  Mario’s death was a life lesson for everyone.  He impacted my driving habits and customs as well as whom I’m friends with.  He showed me to love everyone like they are your own family.  He taught me to love life, never take anything for granted, and be so outgoing.  I try to live my life like Mario did, the same way he impacted everyone else’s lives, the same way he STILL impacts everyone’s life.  My life has been changed in such a great way due to Mario and his impact on my childhood all the way to this current day.  Mario makes the grass greener and the skies bluer, there will always be special place in my heart for Kenneth “Mario” McNeill.  

****

Beautiful, right? Yep. I think so too. Here is the deal: it's things like this that help me to remember the assurance that Mario's life had meaning, that he lived his life in such a way that he fulfilled his purpose. I know that just as his life was planned, so was his death - and the timing of his death had it's own purpose. I wish there was a way that I could even remotely express to you how humbling it is to read things like this...to realize this is about my son.

The majority of the time everything still seems so unbelievable. I literally sit and wonder, "did this really happen?", "is he really gone?", "is this for real?" Even after six months those questions stay with me.

Some of you have said that you think I'm "strong". Please know that I am not. It is truly God Himself who sustains me. Me, by myself? I am nothing. But it is Him who is holding me up. And I say that knowing that I do not deserve it, yet He still does it. All I can do is hang on because there is simply no way I can stand on my own. Nor do I want to. I'd rather be right here in this space and time hanging onto Him than failing by myself.

This essay that was sent today? It isn't only a reminder that Mario's life had purpose and that he lived his life with pure abandonment for Christ and for others in his own courageous and outgoing way, but it is a loud reminder to me that this is also the way that I should be living my life.

By the way, the young lady who wrote the essay? She was inducted into the National Honor Society this evening. An honor well deserved. A huge congratulations and an even bigger "Thank You" from a heartbroken mom who needed some encouragement and a solid reminder of where my focus needs to be.

We just never know how our lives are impacting others...live your life with healthy abandonment and courage.

"You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives." Genesis 50:20

"Mom, would you sacrifice me if God asked you to?" ~ Mario

That is the question that Mario asked the night before his death. To be frank, I was appalled and didn't want to answer.

We had spent most of the evening at home, just the two of us, while everyone else was out for one reason or another. The majority of our time together was in the kitchen while I was cooking and Mario was bouncing around me talking non-stop, making me pose to take the typical selfies together to send to his friends, and telling me about who was doing what, who said what, and how things were going in his life. Always a jokester, this night was no exception. We were laughing and carrying on together like normal. Business as usual, perhaps.

With my back to him at the stove, the question was dropped. I have been known to call Mario my "shock and awe kid". Usually for dropping what would be considered a "forbidden question", a radical statement, or making some crazy movement, all in the name of shocking someone. He loved those types of reactions. Because he did that so often, there wasn't much that really truly shocked me anymore from him. I was able to recognize what he was doing and knew that it was really just his way of trying to get a reaction from me...or others. But in this one moment, the question stopped me in my tracks.

"Mom, if God asked you to sacrifice me for Him, would you do it?" I noted a hint of seriousness in his tone. The mere thought of what he was asking was absolutely unfathomable and my reaction matched that feeling, "Mario! That is terrible! Don't ask that!"

But he pressed on, "Seriously Mom, if God asked you to kill me, would you do it?" I tried to be insistent and as dismissive as possible in my response, "Mario! I'm not kidding. That is an awful thing to ask me. Stop."

Diving into the waters of an unthinkable question once again, Mario took it a step farther, "Mom, this is Biblical. This happened! God has asked someone to kill their son for Him before. It's in the Bible! What would you do if God asked you to do that? Would you sacrifice me?"

Mario was referring to a story in the Bible, Genesis 22:1 - 19, where God tests Abraham and asks him to sacrifice his only son, Isaac, as a burnt offering to the Lord. Just as Abraham is about to kill his only son for God, he is stopped by the angel of the Lord who tells him that since he has shown his fear of the Lord, he is not to harm his son and does not have to kill him. 

Have you ever seen a mom go from being horrified to suddenly as sanctified as she can get? (I am laughing at the irony of that last statement as I write it.) I realized this question was not going to go away easy but I also knew that with a real sense of desperation that I did not want to answer it. Shoving the emotions to the side I tried my best to use that moment as a teaching moment. As calmly as I could muster, I explained to Mario that the story he was referring to was in the Old Testament of the Bible and that we are released from the necessity of offering sacrifices like that in the New Testament once Jesus died for us, for our sins.

To my great relief, that seemed to quell the waters of such a turbulent question. But why was I so effected by that question? Why didn't I want to answer? The answer is simple. Because I couldn't. I was completely torn between knowing what my answer SHOULD have been and knowing what my answer was likely to be...and it wasn't what it should have been.

As a Christian I know that God sent His Son to earth to be like us, to experience life like us, but to die not like us, but FOR us. I consider myself a Christ follower and I have a relationship with Jesus. Here, in the face of a question that essentially challenged the level of my loyalty, purity and genuine love for Christ, I was choking. I was choking because my 5' 8" tall, 156 pound son that was standing in front of me was asking if I was willing to give him up in the name of my relationship with Christ.

In all honesty, if that were a test for me, I likely would have failed. And I am deeply convicted by the thought of that certain failure. As a person who feels rooted and secure in my faith, I am also deeply disturbed with the reality of that failure. Had I been forced to answer that question, my answer would have been "no." But isn't that the level of trust and love that I have for my God? That I would lay my own son's life down if asked to? The word "excruciating" comes to mind. Now if you ask me if I would give up my own life for God, my answer would be a hands-down, with no hesitation, yes! But my own son? Uhhh....

So here is the thing to all of this; the reality is that the very thing Mario was asking me if I would do - sacrifice my son for God - God already did that.

Did you catch what I just said?

Slow down and really take this point in.

God...you know, the God of the universe...the God who chose you to be here right now in this moment...sacrificed His only son for you and me. (I'm not trying to preach here...I'm just making the connection.) He did exactly what Mario was asking if I would do - except He, with the deepest, most compassionate amount of love, went through with it. He freely GAVE His only Son for you and for me.

And it is through that sacrifice, and Mario's belief in that same sacrifice, that Mario is now in Heaven. So the very thing that Mario asked if I would be able to do - sacrifice him if God asked me to - is the very thing that saved him and allowed him in the gates of Heaven because God did it for us.

Epic.

Lord, I am thankful that I live in a time that I do not have to make the choice of sacrificing my own son. I see now that I often take my own level of faith and belief system for granted. That is not what I want for me, but especially not what I want for You from me. Increase my faith in You and allow me to hear Your voice clearly. Thank You so much for choosing me to be Mario's mom. My life has been beyond blessed by my children. Give Mario a kiss and a big hug from me.......