LAUNCH DATE: THE TABLE IS SET (Part Four)

Have you read Part One, Part Two, and Part Three of this series?

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There was a verse that kept running through my mind, from the time I was sitting in the ER: "Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies" (Psalm 23:5a) I heard it in my heart in the King James Version that I had memorized as a child.

As I paced the sterile halls of the hospital, as I sat by Rich's bedside, as I went home to change clothes, I pleaded with God to give me a verse! Oh God, just give me one teeny verse to get me through this! And what did I get? Psalm 23:5a...not even the rest of it, not even "b." And in the King James, for cryin' out loud! (Sorry, that's just not my favorite.) How in the world did that verse even RELATE to what was going on in my life? But that was my verse, no doubt. So, I quit asking, and I started confessing. I said that verse multiple times each day. Incredibly, it brought comfort. But I wanted to know what God was talking about. I wanted to know what was going on! We thought that it was God's will for us to publish Baby Boot Camp. He provided the money. Everything went down like clockwork. And now, when what I needed to be doing was selling books, this happens. Was it all a mistake?

But even in my confusion, God showed up, every day.

• When my father-in-law came every morning, he brought a measure of God's security.
• When my children prayed, there was God's peace, flowing over us, covering every doubt.
• When I heard a mower and saw one of our church members cutting the lawn, God's provision was displayed.
• When people brought meals, God's comfort was all around.
  
• And Christian television? I know there are some folks on the airwaves that may not be sincere, but man, I am thankful for Christian TV! When a person is homebound, it is a blessing. At certain times of the day, there were some powerful preachers who brought God's Word, and it was always a Word in due season, into our home.

One night, when I needed answers even more than I needed sleep, I settled down with God's Word, a Bible dictionary, and a Hebrew lexicon. I dissected Psalm 23:5a for all it was worth, and while that entire thing is one of my speaking topics, I'll give you the short version here. (Short? This story has lasted for four posts!)

That "accident" was God's preparation for the ministry that lay ahead of me. In many ways, I was back in "baby boot camp," experiencing the fatigue, confusion, and blues that so many new moms go through. With the start of my speaking and writing ministry, our family was on the front lines of spiritual battle. We needed to learn how to pray, and boy! God sure taught us a few things about that! And then, there was a significant emotion of disappointment that I was dealing with.

I didn't get my book party. I didn't get to celebrate because of the way things happened. I had enough to celebrate in the fact that my husband was alive, and I chided myself for feeling disappointed and being selfish about a party! My sweet mom-in-law asked me if I still wanted to have the party, but there was really no way that I wanted to celebrate without Rich by my side, because he had been by my side, cheering me on, through the whole process. But God used that disappointment, too. I found it was a unique parallel to how a new, unmarried mom must feel. Like I wanted to celebrate my book, she wants to celebrate her baby, even if it isn't born under the best circumstances. It might be a stretch to some, but for me, well, it sent me straight to my local crisis pregnancy center to see if we couldn't team up on some things. (That was something I had never even considered.) My disappointment also sent me to Fort Campbell, KY, for a year of leading a moms' group and celebrating new babies with tender young women whose husbands were serving in Iraq. For many of them, their babies were welcomed with tears of disappointment and sorrow because their husbands were not by their sides.

By Thanksgiving of 2000, most things were back to normal. Rich was even driving again! We were plugging my book everywhere we could, and the hospital bed had been carted off for someone else who needed it. Not everything was back to normal, though. The Powell family was not back to normal, nor would we ever be. We were forever changed by my husband's prayer. The God of the valleys set a table before us; we tasted, and we saw that the Lord was good!

May His wonderful Name be praised!

LAUNCH DATE: SO THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR PRAYING? (Part Three)

This post continued from LAUNCH DATE: (Part Two)

Sometime during those days in the hospital, Rich shared with me that his prayer at the retreat had been a plea for God to rid him of any of himself. He wanted to be completely surrendered to God. He wanted to know God in a deeper, more complete way.

So that's what you get for praying?

• Confined to a bed and a back brace for 3+ months?
• Unable to go and do like any other healthy 36-year-old man?
• Being dependent on your wife to help you with your most personal of tasks, including bathing and toileting? (To be honest, he enjoyed the sponge baths. LOL!)
• Having to tell the 3 yo who is used to wrestling and playing with his daddy, "Can't touch Daddy," umpteen times a day, with tears in your eyes every time?

Nope. Here's what we got when Rich prayed:

• Because he was confined to a bed and a back brace, Rich had the joy of learning how to be still, and know that He is God. During that time, Rich experienced an intercessory prayer life that he had never known before. The man dreamed dreams and the Lord gave him a couple of visions, as well! He was still. He had nowhere to go but to the throne of God.
• Because he was unable to go and do like any other healthy 36 yo man, Rich found out what really goes on at our house all day long! He experienced a lot of wonderful daily moments with our kids that he normally missed out on.
• Because he was physically dependent on me, our roles were reversed for a time. Rich has always been the strong one. I go to him for everything. But now I was taking care of him. Was it humbling? Yes, I know it was. One verse that we continually repeated was, "Humility comes before honor." But you know what? I loved being there for him. I loved being needed. I loved being able to DO something that showed him my love. It strengthened our marriage--no doubt.
• Because the children couldn't touch Daddy, they learned how to pray for him. And this, by far, was one of the most special things that God did in the life of our family. The children and I each memorized a healing verse from God's Word. We gathered around Rich's hospital bed every night, and we prayed our verses over him. How utterly amazing to remember those little ones (8, 6, and 3) crouching, with their faces to the floor, and lifting up these pleas to their Heavenly Father:

  Your light shall break forth like the morning, your healing shall spring forth speedily, and your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard (Isaiah 58:8). I have heard your prayer, I have seen your tears; surely I will heal you (2 Kings 20:5). I will heal them and reveal to them the abundance of peace and truth (Jeremiah 33:6).

Y'all, I'm no saint. Kelly commented yesterday that she admired my faith. Well, I don't mind telling you that my faith took a real beating during all this. So, stay tuned for the final installment in this series of posts! LAUNCH DATE: The Table is Set (Part Four) concludes today! Be looking for it this afternoon!

LAUNCH DATE: JUST A BROKEN BACK (Part Two)

PLEASE NOTE: This post is continued from LAUNCH DATE (Part One)

Of course, when you hear something like that in your head, the first thing you want to do is deny it. And I prayed, hard, and gave it to God. I must admit it was with some reservation that I said good-bye to Rich as he left a little later, but I refused to bow down to such a fear. He asked me if I wanted to go with him, but the kids were just about ready for naps, and I told him I'd just stay home with them.

I rambled around the house that afternoon while the kids slept, and finally stretched out on the couch. I never quite got to sleep, but I did get to a prayerful place of rest. That was a good thing, because the Lord knew I wasn't going to sleep that night.

I was running the kids through the tub late that afternoon when the phone rang. Even in remembering this, it seems surreal. It was my friend Jeri (she and her husband were also helping with the move). Her voice was shaky, and I knew immediately that something was wrong. "What happened?" I asked, and I began to tremble as I held the phone.

Rich went off the road , sailed (airborne) over an embankment, and came to rest in some bushes that halted his pickup truck and saved his life. He was conscious. He was on the way to the hospital in an ambulance. I was to meet them there.

What happened? He had evidently fallen asleep at the wheel or just zoned out, and he went off the road. A police officer saw the whole thing, and he said Rich missed hitting a light pole by mere inches. He missed crashing into a concrete culvert by the tiny bushes that brought his truck to a stop. The vehicle was totaled. If I (or any passenger) had been with him, I wouldn't have made it. This same police officer came to the hospital, 30 minutes away from the crash site, to see me. He had one burning question on his lips--one question that for him would be the only explanation for what he had seen that day: Was your husband a man of God? That's the only way he could be alive right now. God saved his life.

Rich was alive.
He was conscious.
No brain damage.
No internal injuries.
Just a broken back. And I say "just" because comparatively speaking, my sweet Rich "just" had a broken back.

It would not be the last picture. IT WOULD NOT!

Eight years later, I remember who showed up at the hospital that night, and from the bottom of my heart, I say thank you.
Thank you for sitting with me.
Thank you for being quiet with me.
Thank you for holding my hand.
Thank you for praying with me.
Thank you for not acting like everything was okay.
Thank you for understanding that it wasn't.

Eight years later, I remember one of the greatest encouragements I received. A couple from our church, Dale and Suzanne, came up to me several weeks later, on my first Sunday back at church. (Rich was confined to a hospital bed that we had set up in our living room. When I felt okay with leaving him for a few hours at a time, several of the guys from our Sunday school class took turns sitting with him while the kids and I went to church.) They told me their story of when Dale had broken his back.
Just like Rich.
And Suzanne encouraged me by affirming how hard she knew things were, taking care of Rich as well as three young children. Because she had been there, she understood. That was such a blessing to me. And Dale, who was the picture of health, gave me the assurance that Rich would be back on his feet in no time. Seeing two who had survived similar circumstances was like medicine to my soul. I knew that we would survive the days ahead.

But unfortunately, I didn't know anybody who could identify with the rest of my story. You see, by the time I had my talk with Suzanne and Dale, five thousand copies of BBC had been delivered to my house, and it seemed to me that God's timing was waaaaay off.

(LAUNCH DATE (Part Three) continues tomorrow.)

LAUNCH DATE: GOD OF THE VALLEYS (Part One)

Hey Everybody,

I'm sharing a significant part of my testimony this week, as I want to honor God with the launch of my new book. I hope you have time to read it all. When I found out the book would launch on August 26th, I asked God to please give me a place to share my testimony and honor Him with this story on the anniversary of what happened in the year 2000, and what is happening this year, 2008. I believe this is the place! I believe He wants me to share it in this blog, and it is my pleasure to do so.

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I was actually on my cell phone heading for the FPEA convention in Orlando, FL, this past Memorial Day weekend, when my marketing rep at Tate told me the launch date for my new book.

"August 26," she announced.

And then the tears came. Just mention that date, and for the rest of my life, I'm sure the memories will continue to overwhelm me. I find myself with hope renewed, faith assured, and joy confirmed.

You see, eight years ago, on Saturday, August 26, 2000, I was eagerly awaiting the publication of what would be the first edition of Baby Boot Camp! My husband Rich and I had been clearly led by God to self-publish, and we were both excited about receiving the finished product in mid-September. The cover was beautiful, the layout was terrific, and I was delighted with how the book had turned out! Like an expectant mom who is really tired of being pregnant and longs to hold her new baby in her arms, I was ready to see and hold my book! We were in the process of planning a huge party to celebrate, and I was looking forward to being with my friends and family and thanking God together for what He had allowed me to do and for what He was going to do in the days to come. I wanted to honor Him and praise Him for all that had gone into the journey of BBC as my manuscript moved from dream to reality. God had supplied all our financial needs in bringing BBC to life. It was an incredible experience that still amazes me to this day. (For more about that part of the story, check out For the Write Reason, available at Proverbs 31.)

Okay, at this point, I need to backtrack. On Monday of that week, August 21, I had watched an author being interviewed on Christian television. He had just written a book about how God is the God of our valleys. I remember he used the example of when the Israelites were fighting the Arameans. The Arameans had developed a new strategy to defeat the Israelites. They thought that the Israelites had won the last battle because their gods were the gods of the hills. So, the Arameans theorized that if they got them down into the valleys, then they could defeat them. Well, this is what God said:

Because the Arameans think the Lord is a god of the hills and not a god of the valleys, I will deliver this vast army into your hands, and you will know that I am the Lord. (1 Kings 20:28)

The author went on to explain that God is in control of our valleys, our lows, our less than stellar circumstances, just as surely as He is the God of our mountaintops! As I watched the interview, I knew that God wanted me to hear this man's message. I knew it as certainly as I've known anything. And I knew, without a fearful kind of knowing, that God was about to allow our family to go through a valley. And incredibly, I had a deep, abiding peace.

Rich went to a men's prayer retreat on Friday, August 25. He spent the night there with a group of men who were praying, worshiping, and seeking God's face all night long. He came home at around noon on Saturday. After lunch, he was going to help a couple in our Sunday school class move into their new home. Since he wasn't going to have much time with the kids, I had planned for them to have an indoor picnic with their daddy. As our lunch got underway, I looked at the children playing happily with their daddy and talking about everything under the sun, and they looked so adorable that I went to get my camera. As I snapped the picture, I heard a voice that I will never forget (although I must admit that I can still have trouble identifying). It said, "That is the last picture you will ever take of Rich and the kids."

(Part Two of this story will post at noon today. Please come back by!)