I am always amazed at the lessons I learn through the strangest of places. Sometimes God whispers, sometimes He just says it nice and loud so that there is no mistake and sometimes, like this past weekend, He speaks to me through moldy cheese.

You see, I like to be aware of the food I put into my body and that I feed my family. I try, as best I can to eat clean food, free from hormones, free range, as little processed food as possible and if I am splurging on ice cream it pretty much needs to be Häagen-Dazs...I mean, seriously, it doesn't get much better than this when you read the ingredients.....Vanilla Bean: cream, skim milk, sugar, egg yolks, ground vanilla beans, vanilla extract...So good!!

Saturday night I decided to make chicken quesadillas for dinner. I had everything ready to go...the chicken was cooked, seasoned and shredded, the tortillas were ready to go on the stove, the salsa was made...all I needed to do was grate the (rBST Free-grass Fed) cheese and it was on! As I unwrapped the block of cheese I noticed the mold. Uggggg!! It was all I had left, so I decided to cut the moldy parts off, but I was not sure that I cut a safe distance or how much it could have spread. I thought it best to discard the chunk of cheese....but that meant no quesadillas, so I quickly rationalized the moldy cheese as not being a big issue....WHY?..because I WANTED a quesadilla. 

I went back and forth in my mind between.."I want a quesadilla" and "Not worth the risk just to have a quesadilla"...I asked my husband and He told me to throw the cheese away. But, I replied "What if I just pretend like I didn't see it?" to which he replied "That doesn't change the fact that there is mold on the cheese, throw it away!" So I did.....and so we ate something else.

What does this have to do with God speaking to me? It's this. Right now in my life there are things going on in my life and more importantly, there are things going on in my heart that need to go, that need to stop. Things that I want to hold onto, things that I think aren't really hurting anyone and even if it hurts me, it's not that deep so I can survive.....things that I can just continue with and pretend like it's ok...things like a little mold growing on my heart, that if not tossed out, will continue to grow and multiply until it starts affecting so much more than if I would have just cut it out of my life completely.

Pretending like the mold is isn't there, doesn't change the fact that it is. Pretending like there are acceptable sins in my life, doesn't change the fact that it is sin and it has to go. I long to be as label reading about the things I allow in my heart as I do my meats and cheeses. Things like anger, unforgiveness, distrust....it becomes crippling and hindering.

As I struggle, I love that I have a husband that prays for me. A husband who understands my days and is patient with me. His deliberate intercession for me, changes me. I can say that this day, I am beginning to see a bit of that mold in my life, be lifted away. So because my husband, who stands with Jesus, prays.... and because God hears and because God cares the prayers are powerful and effective.

The reality is that we don't all have a husband that can pray for us, we may not even have a friend that we can confide in and trust with our struggles, but prayer,as we struggle, is important.

Can I encourage you today to ask God to search your heart, to show you the mold in your day and ask him to help you to throw it away. 

If you need someone to pray for you, we at Deliberate Women would be honored to, just send us a message and consider it done. email: [email protected] 

You are not alone. 


"Lord, I thank you that you know our hearts, our struggles and our battles each day. I thank you that you are stronger and through your Spirit we can stand against temptation. Lord, help us to throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. Help us run the race marked out for us with perseverance, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. Help us, help me, help those we love, to get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice and to replace it by being kind and compassionate, forgiving to others, just as in Christ, God forgave us. Amen"

It's the end of a long day and I'm staring at the list of what I had hoped to accomplish. Let me just say that the majority of things on this list remain incomplete. 

And the things I did get done? Well, the one load of laundry that made it to the washing machine resulted in a puddle on my basement floor. The dough cycle on my bread machine produced a floury pile of goo that would in no way become edible by dinner. And I lost my temper with my son when he told me he lost his temper with a classmate at school today. (I know. The irony isn't lost on me either.)

Not one thing went according to plan. Not one meaningful thing was accomplished. I felt defeated. I felt like I had failed. Again.

(Please tell me you've had a day like that, too?)

Now if any one of my girlfriends were to call me and share the details of this day or post this as a Facebook status, I would immediately tell her that she's not expected to be Superwoman. She doesn't need to have it all together all the time. She should give herself a little grace.

But when I'm talking to myself it usually sounds more like this: "Why can't you get your act together? How difficult is it to do laundry, make dinner or be nice to your children? When will you ever get it right?"

Yes. Grace is reserved for everyone. Except for me. At least that's how it plays out in my mind, time and time again.

I'm a mess. I screw things up. A lot. Things in my life are far from perfect. And because of all that, I tell myself, I don't deserve grace.

But can I let you in on a secret? None of us "deserves" it. That's why it's called grace. It's unearned, undeserved favor that God extends freely to each one of us.

We are all messy, screwed up, imperfect people. Nevertheless, we are all still worthy of grace - grace given to us by God, grace given to us by others, grace given to us by ourselves.

It's a lesson I'm learning every day, albeit a bit slowly. But I'm giving myself grace in the process. Or at least I'm trying to!

So, friends, can we help each other out?

Can we remind each other that even though we don't deserve grace, we are worthy of it?

And can we remind ourselves that although our imperfections won't ever go away, neither will God and His never ending grace?

I don't know about you, but that's enough for me to take another look at today's list ... tomorrow.

2 Corinthians 12:8-9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

Melissa Hucal and her husband Michael live in Illinois with their 2 boys. She is the Marketing Director for Hearts at Home (Jill Savage) and the publisher of Macaroni Kid Peoria. Melissa is just dipping her toe in writing and hopes to launch her own blog. She is also a featured speaker at the What's Your Story? Women's Conference this fall in Pittsburgh, PA.

Surely you've seen the news: Iraqi people are being persecuted. And "persecuted" is a much more palatable way of saying kidnapped, beaten, raped, tortured, and gruesomely murdered. 

Women and girls are being captured and raped. Children are being beheaded. The elderly and infirm are starving and thirsting to death as they flee for their lives. The group responsible for these atrocious acts (that seem to be straight out of Satan's handbook) is called ISIS (Islamic State of Iraq and Al Sham). If you can believe it, ISIS is said to be even more powerful than Al Qaeda. They are more destructive, more militant, and horrifically bent on wiping Jews, Christians, and {purportedly} other religions who don't subscribe to Sharia Law off the map. Forever. 

And while this is in another country, on another continent, thousands of miles away, it has everything to do with us.

While it may not be us who are being told to "Leave, Convert or Die!" we can still carry the burden of our brothers and sisters who are being told this very thing. 

Perhaps we aren't facing the horror of watching our elderly loved ones starve to death or die of dehydration because they simply cannot take refuge elsewhere. 

And Praise God that we are not forced to make the unthinkable, unconscionable choice of whether to watch our children starve to death, be murdered by ISIS or throw them off a mountain to spare them the suffering. 

But somewhere, there are countless who are. 

Headlines, social media and news blurbs sterilize the very real horror that is occurring half way around the world. 

I {Mandy} couldn't stop crying the other night when I saw the headline about parents throwing their children off a mountain. I couldn't read the article at first. I promised myself I wouldn't because I knew what would happen: It would consume me, it would haunt me. But, I eventually did read it and I was exactly right; it did consume me. I sat on my bathroom floor, sobbing, for what seemed like hours. 

I felt ruined for them. Heartbroken. Devastated. 

And helpless.

What can I do? I'm a 37-year-old suburban mom living in America--the Land of the Free. My greatest struggle lately has been time-management, stains on the carpet, and what to make for dinner. Aside from some mild illness and some skinned knees, we live a perfect, idyllic life. 

And I threw my hands up in the air and said, "God, I'll pray."

And I did. 

And sadly, praying so often feels like a last resort, but in actuality, coming before the Throne of God and sharing our most intimate thoughts, fears, and concerns shouldn't be a last resort--it should be our first course of action.

All of my hand-wringing, crying, and heartache did nothing to actually carry my sisters and brothers in Christ's burdens. It only created more angst in me. 

But by getting on my knees and pouring out my heart to God--the only One who can truly make a difference--I am enacting His power (Matthew 18:18-20).

What if we don't know how to  pray? How does one really pray for the awful things the Iraqi people are facing?

And probably the most encouraging of all scripture I've ever read about praying is this:

When 2 or more on Earth are praying about something....God goes into action. I love that. And we may not see or understand His "action" but we can be sure it will be in line with His will and His ultimate plan. And I can think of nothing better than being a part of completing His ultimate plan! 

Whether He changes what we ask Him to change, He offers comfort to those who are being persecuted and/or changes us, He is still in control and our prayers are valuable and necessary. 

So, today, let's pray for those in Iraq and those in Israel and all over the world who are being persecuted. Let's go before the Father on their behalf. Let's be DELIBERATE in recognizing our sisters and brothers in the world who need us. 

As much as I hate to think about it...there may come a time in our life when we need the same.

And remember...the Truth is...that no matter how bleak our world is today and how much evil seems like its winning, we have the authority of the Words of Jesus to reassure us that it isn't and it won't:

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33

Father,

You know our hearts. You know those who are being abused and killed and persecuted simply for loving You and refusing to turn away from You. We feel helpless and inadequate to pray for or help these people in any way. Please give us wisdom to know how to pray. Please give us the words to say. We pray for the persecution to end and the offending factions to be removed. We even go so far as to pray for the offenders to meet You and give their lives to You. We ask that you will shield the children and the weak and those who cannot defend themselves. Please offer them protection and strength. Please help us to be aware of how we can be of help. And please let us continue to remember our brothers and sisters in prayer and bring them before You daily. 

In Christ's precious name we pray, Amen. 


Other great posts about this horrible situation:
DW's own Ginny on her blog Joy From Grace
We are THAT Family.
5 Ways To Talk To Your Kids About Terrorism

*This post originally appeared on Joy from Grace. It left such an impact with my readers there that I wanted to share it with the Deliberate Women readers.  I pray that those suffering from depression understand that they are not alone and that those who know someone suffering can better understand how to help that individual.

 For two years after we adopted our girls, I [Ginny] kept a secret from everyone.  It was a secret I was ashamed of.  It was something that I thought would be so horrible that people would see me as less of a person, less of a mom, and less of a friend.  Honestly, I don't even think I really realized the name of my secret until my days of it were over.

I suffered from depression. 

I knew something was wrong.  I had been looking forward to meeting my children for over three years.  I had dreamed about them, planned all of the things I would do with them, and prayed for them since the moment God put it on our hearts to adopt. 

So why was I sitting in a hotel room in a foreign country, holding my incredibly beautiful daughters, and not feeling the joy I thought would come from the relief of finally being a mom?  Why was I wanting to run for the door?  Why was I panicking?

I chalked it up to just the normal experience of being a mom for the first time.  But after returning to the States and still feeling like I wanted to run far far away, like I couldn't do this, like I was going to burst at any minute - I knew things weren't right.  When I found myself staring at my reflection and dreaming of ways to end my life so my husband could marry a better mother for my children - I knew things weren't right.  When I couldn't get myself to play with my children or want to spend time with them - I knew things weren't right.

Add on to these complex and scary feelings the fact that I wasn't sleeping due to the kids being up for hours on end at night, I wasn't eating or exercising, and on top of that, I was feeling overwhelmed by the unexpected duties of being a special needs mother.  I also felt so alone because I knew so few moms of kids with special needs and trauma histories.  I had no idea how to help my children, and I felt so inadequate for them and so overwhelmed.  The combination wasn't good.

For two long years, I lived in this twilight zone of motherhood, not understanding why I felt this way, feeling so alone, and trying to hide the fact that I THOUGHT I hated being a mother.  Everyone around me kept saying - your children are beautiful, so cute, and you must feel so blessed to have them!  Deep down, I KNEW these were true...but why did I feel so unhappy?  So lacking in joy?  So angry?  So inadequate?

I was afraid to go to a counselor because I thought for sure she would call the authorities to have my children taken from me if I opened up about my feelings I had.  I didn't tell anyone because when I did open up to someone early on, she used it as fuel later to destroy me when she was angry at me.  I thought for sure others would do the same.  I hid behind pleasant Facebook posts.  I posted pictures of smiling children, us doing fun activities as a family, and talked about life being so wonderful.  I thought that perhaps if I did that, no one would know what was really going on inside of me.  And those posts weren't all fake.  There WERE glimpses of joy during those two years, but it seemed that each time there was an up, I fell down harder than before. 

Have you been there?  Are you there now?

We all have had these feelings at some point or another - but when things get severe and the feelings don't go away - when you are sitting on the bathroom floor dreaming of ending your life...friends, that is NOT ok. 

Because I was so ashamed of these feelings, I didn't tell anyone.  I shared some things with my husband, but I didn't dare share some of the things that were deep and dark within me.  If he knew those - then he might run with the kids and never come back.  He might leave me.  He might hate me.  If only I truly understood the deep love my husband had and still has for me.

I realize now that I was deeply depressed.  I realize now so many things that I wish I had realized then.  If you are feeling anything like what I wrote about above, I beg you to read on and pray for the courage to realize and act on these things:

1.  I realize now that I needed help from friends and family.  I was too proud to ask my friends to make meals or help me with my children because I was the one who was supposed to have it all together.  I had always been strong.  I had always been the one to help others.  I could DO THIS.  But friends - I suffered and my family suffered much longer than necessary because I refused to ask for help.  It truly does take a village, and when we are weak, we need to reach out to that village.

2.  I needed professional help.  As scary as it was to risk sharing it all, I now look back and realize it was scarier NOT to get help.  I wasn't going to lose my kids by sharing what I needed to share, but if I didn't get help, I risked doing things that WOULD HAVE lost me my kids.  Thank God that never happened, but it was an unnecessary risk I took because of fear.

3.  I needed to take better care of myself.    I let myself go.  I was so overwhelmed that I didn't care as much about what I ate, how much I ate, or if I exercised.  I didn't do anything to make myself feel pretty.  I didn't care how I presented myself to my husband.  I was just worried about breathing and getting through each day.  What I needed to do was take time out for myself, go out with my girlfriends more, buy a pretty outfit, get my nails done, eat right, exercise. 

4.  I needed God.  Last week, I wrote about the importance of having quiet time with God EVERY DAY.  I truly believe that the reason I began to pull out of my depression was because I made a decision to start spending more time with Him.  It was almost funny because I worked at a church, but I barely made it to a Sunday service, and I barely read my Bible on my own.  One day, about a year ago, I took out my Bible, shook off the dust, and began to read God's truth.  This was truth I desperately needed because for two straight years, I had believed Satan's lives.  I believed I wasn't good enough, I wasn't capable of being a good wife and mother, I could do it all on my own. 

But God told me, "NO!  With MY HELP, you are good enough, my daughter."  

         Psalm 121  
               I lift up my eyes to the mountains--
               where does my help come from?
               My help comes from the Lord,
               the Maker of heaven and earth.
               He will not let your foot slip--
               he who watches over you will not slumber;
               indeed, he who watches over Israel
               will neither slumber nor sleep.
              The Lord watches over you--
               the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
               the sun will not harm you by day,
               nor the moon by night.
              The Lord will keep you from all harm--
               he will watch over your life;
               the Lord will watch over your coming and going
               both now and forevermore.
 

He said, "With MY HELP, your husband and those sweet children can call you blessed."  

          Proverbs 31:28
           Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her
 
God said, "With MY HELP, you can discover the right priorities and simplify your life so you can do what I called you to do."

           Matthew 6:33
           But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

By God's grace, I was able to pull out of my depression last spring.  He pulled back the veil from my eyes so that I could experience the true joy of motherhood, I could see my children for the beautiful and precious beings they are, I could enjoy spending each day with them, I could feel like I WANTED TO LIVE AGAIN.

Since then, I have been feeling God's strong call to reach out to other women who are feeling the same way.  I want you to know that you are not alone.  I know that I am not the only woman to have felt this way.  I know that because now that I have been opening up about it more to others, they have shared their stories.  The problem is that we are all so afraid of what the world will think if we share this vulnerability.  STOP. 

To those who have been through this and are on the other side, women, especially those in the midst of the struggle, need to hear your story.  They need to know they aren't the only one going through this.  They need your support, your love, your wisdom and the wisdom you have learned from God's Word.

To those who see someone going through this, know they may not feel courageous enough or strong enough to reach out.  Reach out to them.  Offer to take the kids, to help them with meals, to take them out for a fun night or even just for coffee.  Don't try to fix them.  Love them, be there for them, listen when they need someone to listen.  Don't judge...love.

To those who are going through depression right now, please feel free to email us at Deliberate Women and let us know how we can be praying for you.  Please pray for the courage to ask for help.  You need help.  Your family needs you to get help.  It doesn't make you less of a person.  It makes you stronger.  And most of all - GET IN GOD'S WORD and GET ON YOUR KNEES.  I experienced such grace when I finally admitted to God that I couldn't do this without His help.  He supported me and sometimes carried me through each day until I could finally start to take steps on my own.  He protected my children until I could protect them.  He literally saved my life and my children's futures. 

I want that for you.

Joyfully (and I really mean that!),

Ginny