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June 24, 2014

“But Lord, You said….”

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Over the years the Lord has put my faith to some really big tests. When I first became a Christian He knew I was used to being told what to do, not asked if I would kindly do something. Because of His grace He speaks to us in the ways we are used to.

In 1998 a big test was put before me. “Sell your home and move where I’m sending you.” He didn’t bother to tell me exactly where that was until shortly before I was to hop in the car and cross the country.

That started what I call the “five year odyssey.” As I drove across the country He finally notified me that I would be there for eighteen months. Don’t you just love it when the Lord only tells you what you need to know for that moment and nothing more? He kept telling me, “Trust Me.” It got very frustrating!

I was there for eighteen months and then the surprise came for the next location. “You’ll be here a year.” I thanked Him. It was only at each step that He would tell me what I was to do while I was at each of these locations.

I was learning to trust Him and to be obedient without question. Believe me that was not an easy journey! I learned distrust from a very early age and to just say, “Trust Me” wasn’t flying very well with all I had learned for years.

More moves came about. The third move He said I would be there for two years but suddenly told me I would be moving again. “What? You said I’d be here two years. This is six months early?” “Trust Me.” More hard lessons were learned.

On the fourth move I find myself leaving boxes packed because I have no idea where He will send me next. “You don’t have to move any more” the Lord said as I stood trying to decide which boxes to unpack. When I’d hesitate to hang a picture He’d tell me the same until finally I unpacked everything and set up my “nest.”

Five years later –

“I want you to move to…” came the familiar voice. I couldn’t believe it! “But You said I didn’t have to move any more!” I screamed. I was devastated! Satan quickly slithered in and convinced me that Christ was a liar. That I couldn’t trust Him and I needed to walk away from Him. The enemy had me convinced that God Almighty had betrayed my trust. I confess, I listened. Not to the Lord but to the father of lies. I came within a hair of turning my back on my heavenly Father who loves me, accepts me, and wants me to be all He created me to be.

I rejected the prayers of others. I didn’t want to hear them in my hurt and anger. I cried. I stomped in a fit of rage. I refused to listen to or speak to my Creator. Oh Satan was doing a really good number on me. He had a hold on me that was firm and he was determined not to let go.

Remember the verse that says we are in God’s hands? That nothing will separate us from His love? I don’t remember how long I was in the grips of the enemy. I felt deeply hurt and that God had betrayed my trust. I was hurt, angry, and confused but I had a choice to make. Was I going to be obedient or stay put? I started packing.

Did God change His mind? Did I hear wrong when He said I don’t have to move any more? No, I heard right. He said, “You don’t HAVE to move any more.” He said, “I WANT you to move to…” In other words, I had a choice. I didn’t have to obey His request. I could sit back comfortably (oh right!) and stay in my nice nest or I could go through the rigors of packing up and leaving to who knew where for reasons only Christ knew.

There have been three more moves since then. In another move He said I’d be there two years but had me move in a year and half. Did He change His mind again? Does He change His mind? In Exodus 32:14, Moses was pleading with God to not pour out His wrath on the people. “So the Lord relented from the harm which He said He would do to His people.” It sounds like a change of mind to me. What do you think? Does God change His mind?

If we are true followers of Christ we are to trust Him completely. If we trust Him we will be obedient no matter what He calls us to do. The enemy, Satan, has one goal; to rob, steal, and kill. He will rob you of your joy, he will steal your faith, and kill all hope……………….if you let him.

~~~~~

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June 22, 2014

A Wasted life – or was it?

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“Blessed are those who mourn, For they shall be comforted.” Matt.5:4

Looking at this scripture we often think of a widow or a widower mourning the loss of their loved one. But in this life we mourn many things. What do you mourn?

When that question was asked of me I couldn’t think of anything in particular. Yes, I had mourned the loss of my husband, I had mourned the loss of a childhood through abuse, I’ve mourned the loss of pets, and of friends. But when I asked the Lord, “Is there anything I’m mourning?” I was surprised and confused about His reply.

“You mourn a wasted life.” was His reply. What?

All day I have thought about that answer and have taken peeks back at my life from birth to adulthood. I went to school; elementary through college. I’ve been a “soda jerk,” a sales clerk at J.C. Penny’s and various clothing stores, I worked my way through college by working in a Psychiatric Hospital helping the mentally ill. I had a career flying the friendly skies.  So how can all of that and all of those years have been wasted?

Forty-nine years. Yes, for forty-nine years I was doing my own thing. But was I really? The years of schooling was preparing me for the world. The after-school jobs was teaching me the financial aspects of being a responsible adult. The Psych. Hospital was teaching me so many things I can’t begin to express them here. It was an experience like no other and that knowledge has been used in many different situations in my life along with, of course, paying my college tuition fees. The flight attendant career took me to places I would never have been able to go and meeting people I never would have met. In particular Christians! I didn’t realize there were so many flying around those friendly skies! They had their “prey” trapped in a cylindrical tube high up in the sky and continually tried to convert me.

Oh yes. Sue was not a Christian. Sue was doing her own thing. Sue didn’t think she needed God. Not the God that allowed all the bad stuff in her life. Not the God that sat on the sidelines and didn’t give a flip about what she did. Sue, who chewed up Christians and spit them out like sour milk. No, Sue didn’t need this so-called loving God.

How wrong Sue was!

My husband and I had retired and was enjoying the good life but suddenly my world was turned upside down and inside out. My comfortable world with my cherished husband, was left empty. My husband died, my home felt empty and I was alone with the silence within its walls. Family was gone because I told “the secret.” I crawled into the cave of grief. That dark place where no light will enter because the shutters of the heart is closed.

Then Christ stepped in.

I hear it all the time, “Forget the past!” Well I don’t want to forget the past! When I look at my past and the experiences I have had it humbles me to the point of tears because it is my past that the Lord brought me through. It is all those experiences of growing up in a dysfunctional, abusive home that the Lord has used to help other victims of abuse. It is those flight attendants that prayed fervently for this lost soul to find Christ and all the seeds they planted at 37,000 feet in the air.

It is a husband who showed me unconditional love. and yes, it is all those sin filled experiences that the Lord has shown His great mercy through. It is the fowl language that spewed from these lips, the indiscretions, the drunken parties, dirty jokes uproariously laughed about, the “I’ll burn that Bible if you don’t get it out of my face!” It is the forgiveness of all my sins; past, present, and future.

I don’t want to forget the past! If I forget the past then maybe I will shrug off the great things that Christ has done in my life; in me, through me, and for me. He transformed a lost soul to a victor. He has taken me out of the pit of hell and given me life.

So why did He say, “You mourn a wasted life?” Because I look at those first forty-nine years and see my feet on the edge of a fire filled abyss and wonder how I ever lived without Him. I look at those forty- nine years and regret that I didn’t know Him, I didn’t worship Him, I didn’t serve Him. I look at those forty-nine years and mourn the lost time I could have had with Him.

“Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted.” His comfort comes in that when I look back I can see His hand all along the way. I can see His mercy and grace hard at work as I did my own thing. I can see His shed blood on the cross and hear Him tell me over and over how much He loves me.

His comfort is in knowing I will not be spending eternity in a fire filled hell with Satan laughing at me for all my poor choices. His comfort comes in knowing that I have a Savior that cares so much for me that even though I was lost He never gave up on me. His comfort comes in knowing He used every opportunity to bring me step by step to Him. That’s the kind of comfort He gives to those of us that were lost and now are found.

~~~~~

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June 16, 2014

Don’t kid yourself – God cares!

One of my favorite activities is playing in the dirt. Working in my yard planting flowers and making gardens brings me such joy. Last Fall I started a “little” project that I thought would enhance my front yard tremendously. I’ll just build a retaining wall and fill the area with dirt and plant some beautiful flowers, add a Rose of Sharon, and leave the rose bush and Crepe Myrtle where they are. That will make for a nice garden, I thought while gazing at the sloping ground.

IMGP2250 You may recognize my partially built wall from my post, “Building Walls”

Now I’m no spring chicken and what muscles my five foot four body had are pretty well shot but I do the best I can. I dug the trench and aligned the blocks, I carried one heavy cement block at a time and positioned each so they were solidly set, one on top of the other. (I have over 800 to do.)

IMGP2298 But then a problem arose.

Do you notice the square cement block sitting in the center? That used to be a cement step outside the basement door. It took a big machine to lift it and place it there. It was the foundation for my Christian birdbath to sit on. IMGP2138

(It’s a non-denominational birdbath so all are welcome)  Now I need to move it! No machine, no big men with muscles rippling under shirt sleeves. Just little old me.

For weeks I’ve cried out to the Lord, “Lord help me. I need that moved and I can’t budge it! Do you have some really strong angels who can help me? Please send them.”

With spring in my step and energy level high I am back working on my garden. But another problem arose.

When I had a truck load of dirt delivered I was told my wall would come tumbling down with that amount of dirt to fill the area. I need to make it a 2 tier garden or have to rebuild my wall with rebar, etc. Back to digging, carrying one heavy block at a time, and finally having the first row done I gaze at the not-so-level cement square sitting in the middle of my garden project.

“Lord? Please, please, please. I’ll leave it right where it is but it needs to be level. The front needs to come up and I can’t budge it. Oh God You have to send me a big strong angel!”

I awoke this morning to the sound of crashing, grinding, and the roar of some big truck outside my front door. Peeking out the window to see what is disturbing the peace and quiet, my eyes can’t believe what they’re looking at!

Four big angels, muscles rippling, shovels in hand. Okay so they are road workers doing work along the road in the subdivision. They look like angels to me! I scream thank you Lord, make a mad dash to the bedroom and throw on some clothes. Throwing open the front door my short, fat little legs make a bee line for the biggest angel, with the biggest muscles. I smile brightly looking up at him. Batting my seventy year old eyelashes sweetly, I ask if I can barrow his muscles because I don’t have any.

God cares for even those things that we feel are not important enough to go to Him about. He says to pray about EVERYTHING. I needed muscles! Muscles that could lift the edge of that cement square so I could level it.

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GOD ANSWERS EVEN OUR SMALLEST PRAYERS!

~~~~~

“And so I tell you, keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you.” Luke 11:9

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June 13, 2014

A House not made with hands

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“For we know that if our earthly house, this tent, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.

For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed with our habitation which is from heaven, if indeed, having been clothed, we shall not be found naked.

For we who are in this tent groan, being burdened, not because we want to be unclothed, but further clothed, that mortality may be swallowed up by life.

Now He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who also has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.

So we are always confident, knowing that while we are home in the body we are absent from the Lord.

For we walk by faith, not by sight.

We are confident, yes, well pleased rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord.” 2Cor. 5:1-8 NKJV

~~~~~

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June 8, 2014

“Here’s your homework assignment for this week,” my Pastor said.

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“What do you fear losing so much that if you lost it your life would cease to be good?”

My first reaction was, “I don’t want to think about that.” But the Lord wasn’t going to let me off that easy. Pastor Randal was speaking on where our hope is. His other question was, “What has to change for my life to be good?” Here’s a few of my examples; a wife stops nagging, a husband spends more time with me and the kids, I had a bigger house, the old clunker in the driveway was in the junk pile and a new car sitting in its place, the kids would behave better. The list can go on. Pick your own change that will “make your life good.”

These are just a few examples of where we seem to place our hope. “I hope I get a raise. It would sure make life a lot easier” “I hope the deal comes through. That could mean I stay in business.” But isn’t our hope, as Christians, to be in the Lord? Aren’t we to stand on His promises? He makes plenty of them throughout scripture. If we believe Him then why do we place our hope in worldly things to make our life good? What happened to, “Your will, Lord, be done?”

“Now this is the confidence that we have in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us.” 1John 5:14

Back to the homework assignment.

We as humans cling to many different things. When the Lord told me I was going to have to sell my motor home I was devastated! “You’re taking away my freedom! I won’t get to go to the lake and camp! If I sell it I’m trapped at home!” I cried. To say I was upset is an huge understatement! My “Angel Buggy” gave me a means to get out in nature in comfort and feel safer than if I was sleeping in a sleeping bag in a tent on the ground. It was my means of escape. I was able to get away from the hustle and bustle of everyday stresses. Now I had to sell it! My life was not going to be “good” any more! I would no longer be able to escape to the lake. I wouldn’t be able to float around on an air mattress and gaze at the clouds or sit back on a lounge chair listening to nature. He was taking away my freedom to relax! No, life was not going to be good any more.

What the Lord didn’t tell me was that He would give me a home within walking distance of Georgia’s largest lake. He didn’t tell me that I could do all those things every day if that’s what I so desired. What a Mighty God we have…………….. if only we will trust Him.

Phil. 1:6 says, “being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ.”

He knows our wants and our needs. Yet we tend to look everywhere for those wants and needs to be met, except to Him, He who is the One who will meet them.

So what do you fear losing so much that if you lost it your life would cease to be good? Think about it.

~~~~~

“And now, little children, abide in Him, that when He appears, we may have confidence and not be ashamed before Him at His appearance.” 1 John 2:28

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May 30, 2014

Reaching the Finish Line

The road is long and narrow. The sun beats down as a lone runner crests the hill and enters the wide curve. The road stretches out before him.  A white chalk line reaches across the road in front me as I stand at the finish line watching. The race has been long and difficult for him but the finish line is in sight.

“Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it.” 1Cor. 9:24

The world offers so many things that can distract us from the long race ahead. Our journey with Christ is as a marathon race. We must persevere, train, stay focused, and persistently reach out for the prize at the end of our journey. If we stumble along the road Christ is there to pick us up. He is there cheering us on and giving us the strength to take yet another step down the long, narrow, and winding road. I think His angels are standing with us encouraging us, “You can make it. Don’t give up!”

“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is before us.” Heb. 12:1

My husband was a runner. He ran several marathons, as well as shorter races, and we had the T-shirts to prove it! His training varied depending on the length of the race he would be entering. A marathon is 26.2 miles long. It’s grueling and the preparation seemed to never end. At times he would take a day off from the training. But he never gave up.

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Don’t we feel that way at times? Don’t we get tired of all the preparation? We go to church, we pray, we reach out to others, testify, spout all the “right” things and then sit back and at times wonder if its all worth it. “Is God even hearing my prayers?” The worldly influences begin caving in all around us and like any runner we are tempted to give in, relax, take the easy road, “just this once.”

As I watch the lone runner coming closer I can see there is no sweat. His running shorts are not the ragged and worn shorts he considered his “lucky shorts” and have seen many miles. His “muscle shirt” is fresh and completely dry. His tennis shoes have no scuff marks or dangling shoe strings from pounding the pavement. They’re brand new. His hair, as in other races, isn’t plastered to his head as though he’s run through the shower. He looks fresh. He looks more alive than I’ve ever seen him before!

His focus is intense as his legs stretch out just a little bit farther as he approaches the solid white chalk line. He’s looking straight ahead as his arms reach high above his head in a sign of victory. His right foot raises high above the finish line. He’s right in front of me. He suddenly turns his head and looks straight into my eyes and says, “I made it, Sue-Sue. I crossed the finish line.”

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” 2Tim. 4:7

As his foot falls toward the other side of the chalk line the vision disappears. I suddenly feel the doctors hand gentle on my shoulder and he’s telling me my husband is gone.

~~~~~

This is a true story. The Lord blessed me with being able to see my husband finish the race he began many years before. It’s something I will never forget for it is encouragement to me to continue to put one spiritual foot in front of the other and to keep my eyes on the finish line.

I hope this has been an encouragement to you to not lose focus. Enjoy the video.

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May 29, 2014

Why God Might Not Be Concerned About Our Doctrinal Differences

Jim has certainly raised some interesting questions here.

Jim's avatarNot For Itching Ears

blog-oh-my-god“Maybe it doesn’t matter to Him?”

I asked, as my friend looked on in utter disbelief for what had just been said. We had been discussing the state of the church in its four major divisions: Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican and Protestant. (For the sake of brevity, I have lumped all us Protestants into one category. I don’t have time to list us all!)

“Of course THE Church matters to God”, he replied, “He died to give it birth!

I can’t argue with that!

What perplexes me though, is that there are so many different types of churches. Clearly a lack of unity within THE church has eluded us. Catholics believe in purgatory, the other three divisions of the church, don’t. That is a pretty significant difference. We can’t all agree on how many books are actually in God’s Holy Word! That also seems significant. Some of the churches teach that how…

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May 27, 2014

Meet Travis

Say hi to Retired Staff Sargent Travis Mills, formerly of the 82nd Airborne, US Army. As you can see, Travis has undergone a few structural modifications, most visibly in the leg department. Likewise, his left arm is more machine than flesh, and though his right arm appears to be around my waist, it really isn’t. Like the rest of his limbs, it’s been missing in action for some time. I met Travis a few weeks ago in DC at The Science and Engineering Festival, and spent a half hour talking, mostly about Dirty Jobs. He wanted to tell me how much he and his buddies appreciated that show while on active duty. He wanted to know what it was like to work in so many “difficult and dangerous situations.” Can you imagine? How exactly does one answer a question like that from a guy like this? On the day we met, I was a little stressed out. I had just moderated a panel on the main stage, and I was rushing to the other end of the Convention Center to meet with a bunch of CEO’s to discuss mikeroweWORKS. I was late, and there were three-hundred and fifty thousand people between me and where I needed to go, all of whom wanted to say hello and take a photo. My security team was cutting a swath through the crowd, and I was trying very hard not to look like a complete douche. Then one of the event organizers ran over and grabbed my arm. “Hey Mike, there’s a guy backstage who really wants to say hello.” “That’s nice,” I said. “Tell him to get out here and do it.” I was walking fast, head down, determined to maintain forward momentum. If you stop in a situation like that, you never get started again. “Well,” said the guy, “it would be easier if you came to him. It’ll just take a second.” “Why? His legs broken?” “Uhh...not exactly. But he’s just around the corner. I think he was in the war.” I told the security guys to sit tight, and followed the guy down a long hallway, looking at my watch as we fast-walked into the backstage area. Then we ducked behind a blue curtain, and Travis Mills stood up to greet me. Actually, he kind of unfolded himself from a chair, and came toward me with a very wide smile. He then extended a prosthetic arm and offered a plastic hand, which I automatically shook. “Mike Rowe! What an honor! I’m Travis Mills, and I’m very, very pleased to meet you.” I’ve seen a lot of things over the years, and I’ve gotten good at pretending there’s nothing unusual when there clearly is. But I was completely unprepared for this. “Ahh...shit,” I said. “What happened?” “IED. Afghanistan.” “Damn. I’m sorry.” “No big deal. It’s been two years now. I’m good. Tell me something though - are you gonna do anymore Dirty Jobs?” “Uhh...what?” “Dirty Jobs, man! When are we gonna see some new ones?” “Well Travis, that show was cancelled. I’m working on something new though that I think will be just as good. Maybe better.” “Hey, that’s great! I got new legs and you got a new show! Tell me all about it!” That’s how the conversation started. My show. My foundation. My book. Etc. But I eventually steered it back to him, and learned that Travis is one of only five quadruple amputees to survive that level of injury in the recent wars. He has a motto: Never Give Up - Never Quit. He has a Foundation. He’s featured in a new documentary. He also has a wife and a kid, and a deeply personal commitment to help other wounded Vets cope with their injuries. But when I asked why I hadn’t seen him in any of the typical commercials and PSA’s for wounded veterans, his answer was stunning. He said he didn’t consider himself to be wounded. “I’m not a victim, Mike. And I refuse to be portrayed that way. Case closed.” Fact is, Travis is missing more than a few original parts; he’s missing all traces of self-pity. And that’s presents a challenge for mortals like me. Because it’s a hell of a thing to feel put out because a crowd of fans are making me late for an important meeting, and then listen to a guy with no arms or legs tell me how lucky he is, and how much he appreciates all my hard work. That’s called a gut-check, and I could use one from time to time. Especially on Memorial Day, when the biggest decisions I face are what to grill and which type of frosty beverage to enjoy. This year, as I resolve these and other important issues, I’ll think of Travis Mills. A guy who went out on a limb for me, in every way possible. Thanks Travis. And Happy Memorial Day to you all. Mike PS. His story is incredible. Check it out, if you have the time. http://www.travismills.org/about/ #memorialday

This was on my Face Book and I wanted to share it. What an incredible testimony! Regardless of how you feel about our military this is a testimony of amazing courage and strength. May God continue to bless America and our military men and women.

~~~~~

Say hi to Retired Staff Sargent Travis Mills, formerly of the 82nd Airborne, US Army.

As you can see, Travis has undergone a few structural modifications, mos…t visibly in the leg department. Likewise, his left arm is more machine than flesh, and though his right arm appears to be around my waist, it really isn’t. Like the rest of his limbs, it’s been missing in action for some time.

I met Travis a few weeks ago in DC at The Science and Engineering Festival, and spent a half hour talking, mostly about Dirty Jobs. He wanted to tell me how much he and his buddies appreciated that show while on active duty. He wanted to know what it was like to work in so many “difficult and dangerous situations.”

Can you imagine? How exactly does one answer a question like that from a guy like this?

On the day we met, I was a little stressed out. I had just moderated a panel on the main stage, and I was rushing to the other end of the Convention Center to meet with a bunch of CEO’s to discuss mikeroweWORKS. I was late, and there were three-hundred and fifty thousand people between me and where I needed to go, all of whom wanted to say hello and take a photo. My security team was cutting a swath through the crowd, and I was trying very hard not to look like a complete douche. Then one of the event organizers ran over and grabbed my arm.

“Hey Mike, there’s a guy backstage who really wants to say hello.”

“That’s nice,” I said. “Tell him to get out here and do it.” I was walking fast, head down, determined to maintain forward momentum. If you stop in a situation like that, you never get started again.

“Well,” said the guy, “it would be easier if you came to him. It’ll just take a second.”

“Why? His legs broken?”

“Uhh…not exactly. But he’s just around the corner. I think he was in the war.”

I told the security guys to sit tight, and followed the guy down a long hallway, looking at my watch as we fast-walked into the backstage area. Then we ducked behind a blue curtain, and Travis Mills stood up to greet me. Actually, he kind of unfolded himself from a chair, and came toward me with a very wide smile. He then extended a prosthetic arm and offered a plastic hand, which I automatically shook.

“Mike Rowe! What an honor! I’m Travis Mills, and I’m very, very pleased to meet you.”

I’ve seen a lot of things over the years, and I’ve gotten good at pretending there’s nothing unusual when there clearly is. But I was completely unprepared for this.

“Ahh…crap,” I said. “What happened?”

“IED. Afghanistan.”

“Damn. I’m sorry.”

“No big deal. It’s been two years now. I’m good. Tell me something though – are you gonna do anymore Dirty Jobs?”

“Uhh…what?”

“Dirty Jobs, man! When are we gonna see some new ones?”

“Well Travis, that show was cancelled. I’m working on something new though that I think will be just as good. Maybe better.”

“Hey, that’s great! I got new legs and you got a new show! Tell me all about it!”

That’s how the conversation started. My show. My foundation. My book. Etc. But I eventually steered it back to him, and learned that Travis is one of only five quadruple amputees to survive that level of injury in the recent wars. He has a motto: Never Give Up – Never Quit. He has a Foundation. He’s featured in a new documentary. He also has a wife and a kid, and a deeply personal commitment to help other wounded Vets cope with their injuries. But when I asked why I hadn’t seen him in any of the typical commercials and PSA’s for wounded veterans, his answer was stunning. He said he didn’t consider himself to be wounded.

“I’m not a victim, Mike. And I refuse to be portrayed that way. Case closed.”

Fact is, Travis is missing more than a few original parts; he’s missing all traces of self-pity. And that’s presents a challenge for mortals like me. Because it’s a hell of a thing to feel put out because a crowd of fans are making me late for an important meeting, and then listen to a guy with no arms or legs tell me how lucky he is, and how much he appreciates all my hard work.

That’s called a gut-check, and I could use one from time to time. Especially on Memorial Day, when the biggest decisions I face are what to grill and which type of frosty beverage to enjoy. This year, as I resolve these and other important issues, I’ll think of Travis Mills. A guy who went out on a limb for me, in every way possible.

Thanks Travis.
And Happy Memorial Day to you all.

Mike

PS. His story is incredible. Check it out, if you have the time.
http://www.travismills.org/about/

 

http://www.elahministries.com

Blessings to you.

May 22, 2014

These Shocking Photos Show The Scars You Can’t Normally See. And They’re Horrifying.

I have reblogged this with the prayer that people will become aware that words can cut deeper than a knife and hopefully will not turn away when they read and view the pictures. Instead they will become a part of the solution to stop the abuse.

Kindness Blog's avatarKindness Blog

Words have meaning, and they possess the power to change the world.  They can inspire us to do amazing things, or to commit the most  horrible acts.  It’s up to everyone to understand they are responsible for wielding that awesome power.  Because words cut the deepest, and yet leave no marks, they can truly be the most devastating form of abuse.

PhotographerRichard Johnson, who has himself suffered from the worst kind of verbal abuse, created a series of photos to illustrate their incredibly harmful effect.  These images, created for theWeapon of Choice Project, are important because they remind us that the terms we throw out in moments of anger or frustration can be just as damaging as physical abuse.

CAUTION!: The photos below feature victims and strong terms of emotional, sexual and verbal abuse.

Weapon of Choice

We presented each participant in the Weapon of Choice project with a list of hurtful words, and…

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