Gracefully Frank

It begins today. I’m going to begin sharing this India journey with you. Two weeks from today I will do my own proverbial version of jumping off the cliff, sky diving, trusting. It’s funny how I thought moving to Fort Worth would be my big leap in life. But, He keeps taking my breath away with new and further leaps. I’m so uninformed of the agenda! The more I try to figure the agenda out, the more anxious I get. The more anxious I get, the more I’m driven to seek Him. The more I seek Him, the less the agenda matters.

So, laying aside every weight (where is God leading? What is He doing in my life? Is He taking care of me? Will I stay in Texas? Will I move closer to home? Will I ever get married? Will I ever be a mother? And a whole host of other thoughts for family and friends that I would like to see him fix and heal), and laying aside every sin (I’m going to opt out of listing those), I am going to run with endurance the race that is set before me…looking to Jesus. (Heb. 12:1-2) He’s been softly and tenderly and silently letting me squirm and question and strive…all to bring me to let go again. Let Him lead again. Surrender is always so sweet with Him.  

Yesterday, I had to have my crying fit. I knew it was coming. Preparing for India, so outside of my pretty walls-painted-Evening-Stroll-blue box, is a little daunting to me. Daunting equals stress. Stress equals a moment of unabashed tears. My co-workers are so lucky. I didn’t go out into the lobby and tear my clothes or throw ash around, but I did the equivalent at my desk with a friend who is a blessing in my life. We talked about God’s silence. She pointed me to My Utmost For His Highest, October 11th. We talked about how the Holy Spirit is the One who will be at work in India, I just have to let go and let Him do it. Then I sat at my desk, praying for clarity and courage, the same prayer that first led me to Fort Worth. And it began to get clearer, and He is making me feel stronger. I really wish I was more classy and could report to you that with total coolness I am living this life of surrender to Him, but I am just kind of messy. I wrestle with where He has led, and where He is leading. I get insecure and awkward and unsure and angry (I’m Irish) and sad, and although I do not lose my resolve, although my faith continues to grow, I do sometimes lose a little heart when my frailty is exposed. But all of those answers of Who am I? keep turning back into Who is He? And the answer to Who is He?... Shuts my mouth. Restores my joy. Heals my wounds. Grows my love. Quiets my fears. Directs my footsteps. Washes me clean. Transforms my life. Sets me free. Still makes me cry though. I love Him, and love sometimes spills out of my eyes.

“All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ, God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. Therefore, we (I) are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We (I) implore you on behalf of Christ, to be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” 2 Corinthians 5:18-21.

So after my fit yesterday, I got a lot of work done. Then I went home. Listened to Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits, one of my favs, had a fun conversation with someone I love talking to about ice cream and good news, cooked dinner, worked on my church home group study that I will go to again this weekend, read a couple of chapters of Love Does, and said goodnight to the day.

This morning on my way to work I accidentally hit shuffle-all music on my iPod as I hooked it up in the car. The first song was a Willie Nelson song from his album Stardust, another one of my favorites. So I left it on shuffle. As I drove, the next song that came on was Alanis Morissette’s “Thank You.” I have not actually listened to this song in years, and as I really listened to the lyrics I began to laugh…all the way to work. I don’t know what all these words to this song meant to her, but I know what they mean to me. There are so many words from yesterday in those lyrics. Like I’ve said before, we can explain things away all day long, or maybe that wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe He shuffled my iPod? Can He not do that? You could roll your eyes at that, or maybe you might listen for Him a little closer in your life. He’s kind of great. He is the God of the universe, and yet He, because He is Love, loves me...and takes care of me, from one degree of glory to the next. Ridiculous.

It ruins the mood to just type out the lyrics, but if you want to see them google it.  And if you have a second maybe listen for yourself.  You can click on the link below for a live version that may be more palatable than her video for most.  For the record, I'm not on any antibiotics.

Click here:  Thank You - Alanis Morissette

I had a couple of specific prayers on a recent Sunday morning: “Please Lord, don’t let me be awkward, and don’t let me be late.” Both tall orders. The good news is I wasn’t late. Here is another direct quote from my journal that morning before going to meet my coworker and his wife who had invited me to church with them: “Please, please don’t let today be a day where I experience exactly what I pray not to experience just so I learn something. Please just let today be ok, and don’t let me be awkward.” I can look at that prayer and smile now, but I was seer-ee-uhs when I wrote it. I usually don’t share so blatantly from my journal, but somehow I think I’m not the only one who has ever prayed that. If you have ever felt awkward, or if you have ever asked for mercy, then maybe you can relate. 
 
A little back story:  I try really hard to be self-sufficient. I can take care of my own business. I will drive myself. I don’t need help. I will turn down your offer to help, to go, to drive, to be apart of, because I can take care of myself. And I will take care of you, too.  But me needing help means I'm failing to take care of business. And of all the things I fail at, I need to not fail at taking care of business, because...(as a counselor I'm going to make myself finish that sentence to get to the heart of my own wrong belief)... because there is no one to take care of me. (That's not awkward to share, right?) As much as I talk about trusting God...  I never want to be an inconvenience or bother to anyone, not even Him.  Guess which lie the devil likes to use on me.  That's not sweet, it's more like stiff-necked with a hint of defiance.   Man do I get tired of realizing that so many times what I think of as a strength is actually a weakness steeped in unbelief and pride. (I can take care of myself = Pride.  I have to take care of myself = Unbelief.)  The verse God keeps laying in my life, and I keep laying in this blog, is 2 Corinthians 12:9 "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."  I have prayed this past year to have a better understanding of God's grace and sufficiency in my life, I didn't realize I was praying for a better understanding of my weaknesses.  I know now that one does not, could not, come without the other.  With that realization, He has begun laying a new verse in my life...I wonder where it will lead. I know in a few weeks, at least, it will lead to India where there is not even a hint of self-sufficiency available for me.

I definitely have friends and loved ones who override my self-sufficient objections and go out of their way for me.  I recognize and am so thankful for you.  I pray I am that kind of friend to you. I'm only gracefully franking this because maybe some of you have tried to be your own strong tower. I feel awkward letting people help me, invite me, do for me, or know that I am not self-sufficient. Which is not a surprise to anyone in the universe but me.  So when I try to be less sufficient...I'm awkward.  (Is vulnerable a better word? Talk amongst yourselves.) I'll risk the awkwardness of sharing if it helps you look for cracks in your walls in order to break them loose, instead of put in more mortar.  It feels good to break a little loose.  And, I have to share this even if it makes me uncomfortable, because my answer to Him is yes. Yes, I will tell people of your faithfulness and my awkwardness. Which leads me to that Sunday morning prayer...

A few weeks ago I went on two 8 hour road trips with co-workers (to Branson, MO and back). A lot of Mumford and Sons. (“If only my enemy were bigger than my apathy.” I still can’t get that line out of my head.) Some testimony. Some barbecue. A lot of highway. Conversations led me to share how it has been hard to plug into a church since being in Plano.  Not being a part of a church family has magnified feelings of separation.  It has been a long and alone time, which has been heightened by what we have been going through as a family.  If ever there were a time I wanted to be near my friends and family, it's been now.  If ever I have felt very far away from them it's been now.  I know I will look back on this time as precious time that the Lord broke me of yet another stronghold by His grace.  But let's just say I'm ready to look back on this time.  Thankful for it.  Wouldn't undo it. But, Mercy.

So I said yes to the invitation to go to church with my co-worker and his wife. Since I’ve told the Lord the answer would be yes this year, I couldn't overly reassure my friend that I was ok and then go back to being at church alone this weekend. I kind of had to say yes. Thankfully, and probably awkwardly. So I prayed to not be awkward, and I went. I was on time, at least to the parking lot.  I don't know if it is my new church home, but I am going to go back, and keep saying yes.  And my friends were very welcoming.  I did not feel awkward! Until the Pastor, Matt Chandler, said “We are going to talk about what Jesus says about sex and lust. It is about to get awkward in here.” I leaned up, thanked my new friends for inviting me, then sat back so we could all feel a little awkward together. Good times. God is funny.  He answered my prayer...mostly.  It was a great sermon, and so good to hear God’s truth unashamed. Matt’s enemy was bigger than his apathy or fear of awkward. God is good to us. And His ways are good for us. And I think He might have been watching my face when Matt actually used the word "awkward," God's well timed punch line for the day.   

A brief aside...
If you are already comfortable in church, it might be good to realize that for some of the rest of us it is exponentially easier to walk into church invited, than getting up the nerve to go in and sit by ourselves, even as couples. Don’t presume if they wanted to go they would ask you, or that they know they are always invited. Call them. Text them. E-mail them.  Don’t answer for them in your head. If they say no, ask them again some other time.  Keep asking.  (Did someone, some couple or some family come to mind when you read that sentence?)  And don’t judge or condemn people for not running to feel alone at church. Instead, invite them and be the hands and feet God uses to make them feel welcome. Like my co-worker and his wife.  Instead of just praying for me, they invited me.  And for those of us who are like me...keep going and keep praying. Invite someone to go with you, or go to the Sunday School/Small Group class to actually meet people. Go talk to the Pastor, or other church leader about where you could visit or serve to get plugged in.  Humble yourself and pray. God is faithful, and he loves you, and way beyond that...He is worthy to not be an inconvenience to me or you, or for us to be more concerned about feeling awkward than being a part of the fellowship.  That is a ridiculously huge understatement. I know it can be hard, even painful, but He is Jesus. The Messiah.  He understands hard and painful.  Perspective.  Don't sympathize with anything in your life that keeps you from obedience to Christ...said me to myself. 

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfector of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."   Hebrews 12:1-2

In lieu of 1000 words.

But, I have a few words.  That is a picture of Hwy 60 between Ponca City and Pawhuska.  Those are sun rays beaming down on the road most travelled in my lifetime, but rarely travelled anymore.  My mom recently took this picture.  She was on a stretch where she could pass cars, but thankfully there were no cars to pass, as she may have crossed more than one line trying to take this with her phone and drive at the same time.  Not a really good idea, but a really good picture especially with all the memories, music, conversations, faces and voices it brings to mind.  I just like to look at it and remember back. I also like to look at that sun peeking through the clouds lighting the road ahead and dream a little bit forward.  I know many of you have driven that same road, and maybe you would like to look at it and remember.  Even if you weren't driving down Hwy 60, you might have your own highway to remember.  Your highway may not have prairie on both sides, but the yellow and white lines are the same.  The rhythm of the pavement is probably pretty similar, your memories just as clear, and hopefully just as sweet.

It must be thousands (nope, I just got my calculator out, and it can't be thousands).  It must be hundreds of times I sat in the back seat wondering if we were there yet, as my Dad drove me, mom and Chris back and forth to Barnsdall listening to country music on KPNC, and staring out the window at oil pumps, cows, horses, ranches, ponds and clouds.  I can see it, even if I don't close my eyes:  Turning onto the highway with the Conoco refinery on the right as we cross the Arkansas River into the Osage.  Familiar houses on both sides of the road that probably had no idea I inadvertently kept track of their place over the years.  Past the road to Kaw Lake.  Under the blinking lights of the Shidler/Fairfax turn-off. (I've still never actually been to Shidler, but according to my Grandpa John it was always spittin' snow there.)  Past the little cross marking the grave of the unknown cowboy that I looked for every time.  Past the Drummond ranch, the Tolson Insurance arrow shaped sign and Bluestem Lake into Pawhuska.  Triangle Building.  The road up to up to Aunt Karla's (have they left for Grandmas yet?). Aunt Karla's church.  Boy Scout museum, then out of town.  Down past Aunt Sarah's parent's house, then turning off 60 and onto 11.  Pershing, where Grandma Bonnie was born, and the old rock school building still stands. Past the Nelagoney turn off, down around the corner with the little rock cliff.  Is the water going over Low Water Bridge? And on into Barnsdall.  I think I could drive it in my sleep. 

We drove that road in vans (both full size and mini), a station wagon, sedans, a couple of pickups, and a few old cars when they were running and could make the trip.  Looking back I realize we had a disproportionate number of tan cars.  We smelled the smoke of the ranchers burning off pasture land.  We surveyed the water as it overflowed the banks of the river and creeks, and as its been so low it was worthy of noting we could see much more sand in the river, or creek bed than we were used to seeing.  We pointed to the places where the tornadoes had obviously passed through, and waved at friends, family and even strangers we would pass because that's just kind of what you do.  Even if it's just a lift of a few fingers from the steering wheel as you pass by a car coming from where you are going.  Flashed lights during the daytime let oncoming drivers know you passed a Sheriff a little ways back and they better lay off the gas.        

The first time I got to travel out of town by myself I drove down that road.  I made it all the way to Pawhuska playing Brooks and Dunn, En Vogue and Lynard Skynard's Ballad of Curtis Lowe, with the T-tops off, before my car over heated and I ended up on the side of the road. It wasn't a perfect trip, but someone's dad helped me get water in my overheated radiator and I was back on the road with a story to tell.  I travel out of town by myself all the time now, and I continue to be taken care of no matter what road the sun is shining on ahead of me. See what I did there?  I brought it all back around to how God has always taken care of me. :)

There was a first time I road down Hwy 60, and now I feel like I know every tree and rock.   So here is the bumper sticker life lesson to glean from this little story and picture:  Every new road becomes an old familiar road once we've gone down it a time or two.  Catchy.  It's a good reminder for me as I continue to drive down new roads.  God has something in store along the way, and at the end.  "For He knows the plans he has for me."  Loosely translated:  He knows the road.  Whether it is Highway 60, or any other road we are on He is working all things together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purposes. Romans 8:28.

This morning Jesus Calling ended with this line:  "Memories of these days are richly interwoven with golden strands of My intimate Presence."  He has really good timing. Check out the golden strands of His Presence again: 

So, Monday morning I woke up at 4:50am thinking of India.  Let's go ahead and call it stressing about India.  Not a full on panic about India, but certainly stress inducing thoughts like...

"I don't even know how to go to India."
                  "I don't know why I am the one going to India."
       "Have I been wrong about going to India? I'm not feeling peace?" 
"Why do I have to go to India alone?  Are You sure You're taking care of me?"
                            "I hate when I wake up before my alarm goes off."

Here is the letter my fearful heart wanted to write him:  "Dear God, I regret to inform you of your recent error in opening this door and allowing the appearance that possibly I should walk through it.  There has been some kind of miscommunication. Please find the attached list of all the things I am comfortable and confident in doing for you."  It is a wonder He continues to allow me to speak His Name. At some point, I have got to switch from operating out of my own confidence and working out of his.

So, I got out of bed.  Got my coffee.  And read his letter to me:




I hope you can read that, but if you can't, it is the September 10th devotion in Jesus Calling. "As I assured Jacob..." Genesis 28: 15

Ok. We are going to India.  I'm going to hush.  And we are going to India. I'm going to let you get me there.  I'm going to show and share your love because people are hurting, and you are the answer.  Thank you for letting me go, and for quieting me with your love.  Thank you that you don't require perfection. Thank you that you just want a heart and feet that will go.  My heart is yours, and my feet are willing. 

So, I'm convicted to turn over a new leaf.  Not a new leaf of hushing.  My new leaf is going to be Confidence.  Sounds easy. :)  Confidence in Him.  Not constantly wishing to feel confident in what I'm doing, but choosing to be confident in what He is doing.  Choosing Confidence.  I'm going to choose to act on Faith, which is a gift from Him to begin with. He is the beginning and the end.  I want my story to be  "By faith, Haley...." Not:  "Haley settled for her own strength, her own wisdom, her own comfort." Or, "Haley, demanding her will for her life, missed out on His."  So, I'm going to India.  If you pray for me, pray I choose confidence in Him, over certainty of my weakness. Confidence that my Anchor will hold, because it will, always and anywhere.  Let's just go ahead and put this verse right here again:  2 Corinthians 12:9. 

Trip Details:

November 7th through November 14th. 
DFW to Dubai, 10 hour layover, then to Hyderabad, India. 
Then Back Again...

- Saturday, November 10th:  All day training event with pastor's and their wives and lay counselors working with believers in India.  Loving, encouraging and equipping them in their current ministries, and showing them how to use HFTH Biblical Counseling resources in their counseling and discipling in their communities.  
- Sunday, November 11th: Attend church with Rev. Dr. Christopher and Hepsi David, introduced in a previous blog through their ministry letters.  Meet with a select few to discuss how to use the resources in small group settings. 
- Monday, November 12:  Host a luncheon to introduce Hope For The Heart resources to those doing and teaching christian counseling in Hyderabad/Secunderabad.

Thanks to the vision of Hope For The Heart's International Ministry they will be funding the majority of the costs, so the attendees in India are able to come, and so that I am able to go.

However, I will be joining them in paying for my personal stay (which will be the same Hotel as all the events we are holding), costs associated with travel (my visa, etc), and for my expenses in country. I know this is the mission that God was intending when I shared with you about knowing a trip was coming up in a blog earlier in the year.  This was it all along. I'm going to India. Confidently.

If you would like to be a part of what God is doing through this trip and feel led to give you may do so via credit card and the "Donate" button on the upper right hand side of my blog.  You may also send a tax deductible donation by check.  Make the check payable to Hope For The Heart with "Haley Scully - Mission to India" in the memo line and send to:

Hope For The Heart
Attn:  Haley Scully
2001 W. Plano Parkway
Suite 1000
Plano, TX 75075

All donations will go to this trip specifically, and any leftover will go to Hope For The Heart International Ministry.  You can read more about what we are doing here:  http://www.hopefortheheart.org/ministries/international-ministry/

Sincerely and as always...thank you for reading, thank you for praying, and thank you for donating if you feel led.

Love,
Haley

On Saturday I went to prison. It was the kind of prison with razor wire and fences and armed guards and I’m going to tell you about it. It wasn’t like going to the beach, or to the museum, or home.

Prison is another place I’ve always never wanted to go. But, I had opportunity to be a part of the small team allowed to go with the founder of the ministry I work for who was invited to speak to the women living there. You could call them inmates. You could call them convicted felons. You could call them murderers, mentally ill, embezzlers, prostitutes, conspirators. But as I learned on Saturday…you could also call them daughters, sisters, wives, mothers, and friends. Going to the prison is definitely something I would have said “I’m not called to do that” (usually translated: I don’t want to do that.) When will I learn? Honestly, I don’t really even want to write about it. All day long I’ve wanted to not write about Saturday. Now it’s ten o’clock. I’m tired, and I’m writing about it.

I don’t like where my heart was going into the prison. Probably a little arrogant that I’m not a prisoner. Probably a little too self-assured that I was going there to bless them. I wasn’t broken or hurting for them. I may have felt sorry for them, but mostly I was just going on a righteous fieldtrip. Gross. I’m sorry Lord, for the things I’ve made it, when it’s all about You… I think this is a good time to type out loud: The point of every story I share is not ever what I am doing, but always what He is doing. It may look good on a spiritual resume to be able to type "Prison Ministry," but if it is out of my desire to have purpose/perform a work, and not out of Love for the broken and hurting then I should stay home. Most other (quote-unquote) religions have a do-good-to-others list of activities; ultimately for the self-benefit of good coming back to you.  Only through Jesus Christ is there freedom from performing the right behaviors.  If you disagree, I pray you get more time to get to know Him, and not make your assumptions based on His followers who are still learning ourselves because at some point we will let you down. Some get stuck on the Christian list of Do’s and Don’ts not realizing that as He changes our hearts, He changes our behaviors. We don’t have to be strong enough to please him, its kind of just the opposite.  He wants my heart, not my works, not perfection…just my heart, then He will establish my steps. Make no mistake though…he does want to set us free from sin, not make us comfortable in it. Sometimes my heart is still divided between me and Him. But, maybe that is what God is doing for me right now…teaching me to love like He loves, instead of just how I want to love.

So, again: On Saturday I went to prison…

Prison officials sent us a list of Do’s and Don’ts that included what kind of shoes to wear in case we needed to run. Don’t wear a lot of jewelry. Don’t wear khaki so you don’t blend in with the inmates. Don’t touch the inmates. They’ve been told not to touch us. Don’t ask them why they are in there. Don’t ask them about their medical conditions. The officials have to send the list to prepare us, and to keep things safe, but it was a little unsettling.  All I know about prison I learned on tv.  I kind of play out worst-case-scenarios in my mind. In the 4th grade I used to plan through what I would do if Russian parachutes started dropping on the Liberty Elementary playground. I would crawl up in the cubby behind Mrs. Hanby’s desk and wait until nightfall. Then making my way to the railroad tracks through the drainage ditch by the park, I would meet up with Patrick Swayze and whatever other Liberty Leopards that made it out and we would go all Wolverine on the Communists. Mostly just daydreams, but had the Russians ever dropped on Ponca during my 4th grade year, I did have a plan. I'm glad that to this day I still don’t know if it would have worked. Leading up to Saturday, I thought through a plan for things going bad at the prison, too. Again, mostly not serious, but a mix of Die Hard, Walker Texas Ranger and Nicholas Cage in The Rock and I had a tentative plan of escape. And again, I don’t know if it would have worked...

I guess I thought they would be so different from me. In a lot of ways they were, but in all the ways that matter they weren’t. When we walked in all the women were already seated. Probably close to 300. They stood and started clapping. We made our way to the front of the very large, white hall that resembled, in look and feel, an old school gymnasium. We took our seats on the front row. Treated as honored guests they had been waiting for. They love June and the Hope she has been surrendered to share with them for over 25 years.

Then, to my heartbreak, they began their ministry to us. About 10 women who were dressed in black with their faces painted with different mime-like make-up to represent their individual characters went and sat in chairs already at the front of the audience.  The chairs had signs on them that read:  Liar, Robber, Killer, Suicidal, Abortion, Confused, Adulterer, Atheist. Then they did a performance dance to this song:

 What If? - Mirella and Kanto (song by James Fortune)

These women I would have called inmates, I left thinking of as sisters Christ came to love and set free.  They laid their sins bare and through this song asked:

“Would he love me?”

“Would he forgive me?”

“Would he save me?”

“Would he dare to use me?”

The answer for Jesus is yes. Always yes.  The answer for me hasn't always been so consistent. On Saturday He showed me His love for them, and for me, inspite of us.

Here is what else he showed me as they danced and I cried: Prison IS their freedom. As I watched the women dance with genuine humility I began to see that God used this prison to set them free. He allowed the consequences this world has put in place so that He could free them from lives lived in the sins of: robbery, killing, drugs.  “There but for the grace of God, go I.”  He freed them from homes of abuse, neglect, fear and pain. He drew them away to this place where they could learn of Him. Come to meet Him. Dance for him. Rely on Him. Hope in Him. Secure eternity with Him. Of course not that prison doesn’t come with its own pain, but based on the love and thanksgiving they displayed in front of us, that prison is their gracious wilderness that is leading to their victory in Christ. Still suffering the consequences in this life, but being set free of the chains that have bound them, and accepting that there is HOPE beyond their sentence.

I have been thinking what prison is my freedom? What prison breaks my chains? What prison is your freedom? Is it depression that has you bound? Is it addiction? Is it grief? Is it failure? Is it abuse? Is it rejection? Is it cancer? Those prisons come through God’s hands so that we may experience true Freedom from the expectations, injustice, tragedy, false idols, and chaos of this world; whatever form that may take in our own lives, so that we have an almost forced stillness to allow us time to listen to him, be loved, strengthened, forgiven and freed by Him. Time to find His peace. I’m not an inmate at a women’s prison, but I have experienced the prisons of consequences of my own actions that have bound me, and looking back graciously, forced me to be still. All of those things we run after: status, justice, gratifications. God in His mercy, may have to imprison us to protect us from ourselves, so that we may be saved, redeemed, freed into new life.  Less like prison, more like shelter.  Time to heal.  Time for Truth. That is the picture I saw on Saturday.  New life.  Not hopelessness.  Sometimes He will allow us time in the wilderness, He will touch our hip out of socket, and He will allow the consequences, the prisons, to provide an opportunity for us to turn back in repentance to where our heart belongs. To be a reflection of His glory, instead of, in spite of, or in the midst of being a victim of this world, the sins of others and our own deliberate sin.

You may think how could a loving God allow…? But, how could a loving God not? How could a loving God leave any stone unturned, even a stone that may be thrown at us, or a stone used to build a wall around us, if it would lead to Salvation? Why would he take away the desperation that leads us to Him, knowing that He would do anything to secure our reconciliation to Him. Even come to die. Through Jesus Christ he proved to us that he loves us and “He desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” 2 Timothy 2:4. It’s important to know: We can avoid prison. It’s also important to know that when we don't, one day He will open the door and set the captives free. And, it’s most important to know that day can always be today, from the inside out, regardless of whether the bars of our prison are literal or not.  Amazing Grace.

For my nieces’ graduation gifts, (Jordan from High School, and Kaitlyn (Birdie) from Jr. High), I asked my brother and sister-in-law if it would be ok to buy them train tickets to come visit me in Texas. The train is a straight shot, Jordan is 18, Birdie is 15, and I’m a grown-up, so Chris and Leigh thought it would work and be fun for the girls to get to do that on their own. Jordi is into art and has wanted to visit the Kimbell Museum for a long time, and Birdie is easily pleased wherever she goes. So, it was all set: A weekend with cool Aunt Hay in Texas! (see below for examples of how cool I am) Chris and Leigh know I would run into traffic for the girls, and the girls are both cool, so they can make a fun day out of anything… even if my plans turn out dumb.

First stop: Kimbell Art Museum. There is no travelling exhibition right now, but Jordi saw some paintings in their permanent collection she learned about in school, and was pretty excited to get to see them in person. Success!

Second stop: Fort Worth Museum of Modern Art. There is a travelling exhibition, so there would be a little more to look at. The artist isn’t someone I ‘ve heard of and all the paintings on the advertisements are just faces in black and white that look a little boring, but we are wearing cute museum outfits, we are Scully girls out museum-ing for the day. Whatevs. We’re cool. We’ll check it out. We walked upstairs to the travelling exhibit from Europe. Fort Worth is the only US city where it will show. Fancy. Like us. Jordi branches out ahead of me and Birdie, and soon returns with eyes as big as saucers and her serious face telling us we do NOT want to go on to the next room. Great. I brought my nieces to some dirty European art exhibit. First of all, I hope the artist finds help for what is obviously broken deep down inside of him. Second of all, let's mention it downstairs that I’m getting ready to walk my baby nieces up to Grody McGroderson’s Dirty Doodles! Epic Fail. (Saying things like “epic fail” is a little example of me being cool.) With eyes straight ahead we went back downstairs and walked through the gift shop taking our time to examine all the museum gifts we had no means or intentions of buying. I think the museum staff could tell we were just pretending to belong there.

Third stop: Daisy’s Barn and Grill. It is this cute little neighborhood grill across the street from my apartment. I like to go there to have breakfast, read and write.  They have Wi-Fi, and big screen TVs. I do not have cable or internet at Stars Hollow (thanks to my nieces...the new name of my apartment of which some of you will understand the reference), and Friday night was the Olympics opening ceremonies night. So we walked down there to have some appetizers for dinner and to watch the ceremonies. We had perfect seats for one of the big TVs, and we had fried pickles and pop. That sounds like summer vacation right there. Things were going great, until the Karaoke guy set up right as we got to the “M” countries of the opening ceremonies. All we wanted was to see Kevin, Russell and James walk in for the USA. But, big drunk guy who obviously did not begin his evening at Daisy’s, decided to kick off the karaoke party with some 80’s rock song way out of his range and began to be unsettling as he wanted more audience participation. Birdie looked at me with a little bit of a concerned look on her face and said “I’ve just never been in this situation before.” Check, please. 

Saturday was way better. No complete failures. We had lunch then went to the outlet mall and just hung out. My car makes a really loud squealing noise every time I turn the air-conditioner on, and the brakes squeak embarrassingly loud, but fortunately none of their friends were here in Plano for the weekend, so the girls weren’t too humiliated. I put dinner together and we watched movies.

Sunday was precious to me. I love these girls. I love seeing my brother and sister-in-law in them; their faces and their personalities. I love that they share my blood, and memories. I love their hearts. I love that they love Jesus. I love their quirky, sassy and sweet sides. I love that I can remember the days they were born, cute things they did as babies, and that they wanted to come see me. And I LOVED sitting next to them in church on Sunday morning. If you get to sit next to someone you love in church on Sunday mornings, don’t take it for granted. It is a gift to share worship with those you love. Be so thankful they have chosen to worship Jesus, and they have chosen to sit by you.

PS…I have the best nephew in the world. He didn’t get to come down this time, but I sent a Rangers t-shirt home to him and I hope he gets to come down soon and maybe catch a game. His name is Shawn Michael Scully. I like to call him Shawn Bon Jovi, or Shawn Michael Montgomery…and he lets me. That’s how cool he is.

Some morals to stories from this weekend:

- Don’t be so busy being cute that you don’t read the fine print. You may end up having to stab your eyes out.

- As long as the car is running, keep driving it, and be thankful for it.

- Don’t get so used to having one sided fights with those you would consider incompetent drivers that you forget how to act when you have your baby nieces in the car with you.  Ugh. And sorry girls. Thanks for reminding me to be nice. ;)

- Get with people you love and sit by them in church.

We went to the zoo one time when they came to see me in Tulsa.  I could say things like "dance like a flamingo" and they would do it.

Some of my favorite memories have begun with walking toward these girls.

And P.S…I know they aren’t babies. At one point I lost visual on Jordan and thought about yelling for the guards to lock the building down, even though she goes a lot of places now where we can’t see her, and even though we can be standing next to them and not protect them sometimes. They are very much not babies anymore. But, I’ve loved them since they were, and I now get how they kind of always will be, even though they aren’t anymore. They made me cry like one as we were leaving to take them back to the train. Jordi will move to Stillwater this weekend and start college. I did that one time. Birdie will start High School in a couple of weeks.  It's just not possible.  I don't know how Chris and Leigh can take it.  I love being their Aunt, listening to them, playing with them, and praying for them as they begin these next phases in their lives.  

There they go...

I recently mentioned in a previous blog the time that I was the first one to dive off the high dive, and then never willing to do it again. I was probably in the 2nd or 3rd grade when I was enrolled in swimming lessons with my babysitter’s kids. The lessons were at Wentz Pool. (If you aren’t from Ponca, it’s an interesting google.) We’d learned to dog paddle. Learned to float. Learned to jump in off the low diving boards with our legs tucked and holding our nose, or not, depending on personal preference. I was a nose holder. It came to be time to try the high dive. I ran to the front of the line with my red, white and blue American flag-esque halter swimsuit. It was a cousin-hand-me-down with tie straps that had let me down during one lesson as I came up for a dead man’s float and found them floating alongside me instead of tied around my neck. Awesome. I don’t know if I had mullet yet, but that is about the same time, and in my mind the story is more humbling if topped with a mullet. Did I mention I was also a head taller than anyone else my age? Those were good years for me. Not awkward at all. Sometimes I’m still that kid.  

So I climbed the ladder to the top diving board. All guts and glory. And I jumped. I survived!  Cheers! Other kids got in line, as I swam to the side of the pool and decided I never wanted to do that again. Ever. “Haley get in line and do it again.” Nope. I had rustled up and gathered courage, but burned out quickly. I knew I could do it, but then didn’t want to press my luck. I needed sustaining courage. Guess where I’m going with this…

I am still in need of sustaining courage. I think I could muster up through adrenaline and grit, the courage to do almost anything I find a worthy cause. If I see the value I’m in…at first, but my knees tend to get weak later down the road. “Walk away from it all and follow You to Texas of all places?” I’m in. I can’t claim I was first in line that time…but I got in line. Then I got done with school and wanted/had anticipated I would go right back to Oklahoma (swim back to the side of the pool with wobbly knees). I was praying for God to make His will clear to me though; that I wanted His will not mine. “Lord if You tell me to jump off the high dive, and it’s not just my own dumb idea, make it clear to me.” I was talking to two places about employment. One in Oklahoma = with family and friends. One in Texas = Not. I slid the business card for the HR Manager of the place I am now employed here in Texas into my bible after my first interview. Later, as I was praying over the two opportunities and beginning to have a slight sinking feeling like Texas was fixin' to be home...I randomly opened my bible to the page where her card was and here is the verse my eyes fell on: “If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.” Hebrews 11:15-16. I could go back to Oklahoma if that is where my heart was, but I longed for someplace better that has nothing to do with Texas or even my family. I laid down and cried my eyes out. I’m not dramatic. Not because I at that point realized I was not going back to family and friends for that time being, which was then confirmed by the opportunity in Oklahoma not materializing, but I cried because God was again answering my prayer for clarity and courage. He was my confidence in this decision (Proverbs 3:26). He was leading me. The relief and peace and joy that these were His plans were again confirmed through His Word. I could say “coincidence,” but I will never again explain Him away. I will always choose to believe, because He does some pretty amazing things when I do. By faith I would follow Him, and in His faithfulness He makes His plans known to me. He keeps teaching me to not lean on my own understanding, certainly quit telling him what I don’t want to do, to be still, and to be brave; waiting on Him to make his path for me clear. Not because of who I am, or for my purposes; but because of who He is, for His purposes that He created me for (Ephesians 2:10). Be Still. That’s always been a hard one for me.  Sometimes I just want to be normal. Sometimes I just want to go home. But, more than either of those, I just want to be faithful.

What I wanted to write about when I sat down here was the upcoming trip to India. I’m going in November. I got in line first thing, and I am now fighting wanting to swim to the side. I don’t know if this is how it works with all people who are called out to do this, but I am certainly struggling with “am I really able to do this?” “Who am I to do this?” “I should just hand the Hope For The Heart materials to them, and then sit at their feet. I should certainly never open my mouth.” I struggle with wanting to be brave, beyond my own strength. India feels a lot like a high dive, and I am unprepared, and yet here is what I read yesterday: “‘Ah, Sovereign Lord,’ I said, ‘I do not know how to speak; I am only a child.’ But the LORD said to me, ‘Do not say, ‘I am only a child.’ You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you,’ declares the LORD. Then the LORD reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, ‘Now, I have put my words in your mouth. See, today I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.’ (Jeremiah 1:6-10)’ When Jeremiah voices his hesitation and fear, God–the God of the galaxies–reaches out and touches his mouth. It’s a gentle and affectionate gesture, something a loving parent would do. Through this illustration I realized that I don’t have to worry about not meeting His expectations. God will ensure my success in accordance with His plan, not mine.“ – Francis Chan in the book Crazy Love. Oh how I want to be faithful and brave beyond my self-centered insecurity.  Ugh. I wish this would just click for me.

As of now I’m going alone. I would counsel someone that the truth is they are not alone. That the Lord himself goes before me and will be with me; he will never leave me nor forsake me. I don’t have to be afraid, I shouldn’t be discouraged (Deuteronomy 31:8) but, sometimes I talk too much.  That scripture is absolutely the truth, and in God's time he will commit it to my heart as I let him.

So for now would you pray for me? I will share more about this trip and the many ways God has confirmed it in a future post, but for now would you pray for me even just once after you read this, as I am feeling a little bit like I’m in an American flag halter swimsuit with a mullet climbing a ladder that I probably have no business climbing. Would you pray that God would allow someone to travel with me? Maybe that is you? And would you read about Rev. Dr. Christopher David and his wife Hepzi. They are the wonderful servants of the Lord whom I will serve with in India. They have an abandon to God that I pray for, and a ministry I am honored to share with you. They've given me the ok to share their ministry letters.



Thank you for your prayers for me, for this trip, and for these people Jesus wants to know of His love and freedom not only in death, but also in life. Thank you for reading what is sometimes uncomfortable to be gracefully frank about. Thank You, Lord, for the sustaining courage that comes only from You, and the joy and peace that truly passes understanding that follows that courage. Thank You for high dives.  Thank You for this ministry I work for, filled with people who have surrendered their lives to bring God's word to the hurting and his hope to the hopeless; and for letting me be a part of it. And thank you, mom, dad and my babysitter, that there are no pictures to share from my swim lessons at Wentz Pool.