Inspiration comes in as many different forms as there are people on the earth. While many are inspired in similar ways, every person has a unique internal mechanism which gets recharged by a certain special experience. That particular driving force creates a level of hope, calm, and understanding within each one of us which inspires us to do great works.
It is also that internal spark of resilience which inspires people after experiencing unthinkable injuries and tragedies to keep taking one step forward, when it seems like it would be so much easier to drown in a sea of anger, self-pity, and doubt. That spark inside the deepest depth of their soul keeps pushing them to get back up, take one more step, and seek a new direction.
I felt that spark ignite inside of me after I was injured and the doctors explained to me what my future held. That spark continues to drive me forward every single day. A spark of determination which does not rely on anger or self-pity, but on hope. A hope that cannot be denied, repressed, or quashed.
My hope and resilience, while it comes from a place within me, is not from me. I've tried relying on myself, family members, and even close friends to bring forth that spark, but it never lasted long. I've tried to force that spark to ignite and change me through reading books and listening to men and women speak, but they never sustained me.
It was only when the pain was unbearable and there was nothing left but the emptiness in my heart and very depths of my soul, that I came face to face with the force behind the spark. It is the energy of the Holy Spirit that gives my soul life and my heart happiness. His strength is what keeps me moving forward every single day when I could sit and wallow in self-pity and anger. His love is what sustains me when the pain overtakes my body and my thoughts. And it is His steadfastness which stands by and waits for my redheaded hard-headedness to get out of the way of His works.
Much like His servant Paul who sought healing from the thorn in his side, my healing has not been physical, it has been His grace which has been sufficient. When the pain increases and causes my heart to get heavy while my soul grows weary, I am reminded of Isaiah 40: 29-31:
"He gives power to the weak,
And to those who have no might
He increases strength.
30 Even the youths shall faint and be weary,
And the young men shall utterly fall,
31 But those who wait on the Lord
Shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint."
One day I will have wings like an eagle and I will soar with no limitations. Until then, I know this spark from deep within me is the driving force which keeps pushing me. With every push I know I am not alone because He continues to carry me when I am weak and walk beside me when I am strong. With all that I am, I know it is through Him that I am healed.
by: Christie Bielss
What is a Dad?
A Dad is someone who is your first hero.
A Dad is someone who will draw every animal you can think of on a restaurant napkin because he likes to see that twinkle in your eye as you try and guess which animal it was he drew.
A Dad is someone who stands with you when life is scary.
A Dad is someone who loves spending time with you, even if it means playing with Barbie's and letting you paint his nails with fingernail polish.
A Dad is someone who teaches you how to honor and respect others not just by his words but by his actions.
A Dad is someone who loves you enough to discipline you when you do wrong.
A Dad is someone who is the voice in your head when you make choices.
A Dad is someone who cheers you on in your successes and helps pick you up and guide you on a better path in your failures.
A Dad is someone who shows you his strength by getting on his knees and praying to the One who is greater than he.
by: Christie Bielss
"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” To this day, especially in times of “disaster,” I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world." A quote by Fred Rogers, aka Mister Rogers.
When I was growing up, my parents always told us something similar: "There is good in every situation. Sometimes you have to dig a bit deeper and look a bit harder for it, but there will be good."
The events of this week have been mind-boggling. Every day has had an event occur which is so horrific, it has knocked me off-kilter and made me question where mankind is headed. And then I see or hear about "the helpers" and my faith is restored. I think we all could use some "helper" stories.
Monday I sat and watched the Boston Marathon bombing as it unfolded on the news. The chaos and horror before my eyes was surreal. I watched as the news camera was showing people running away from the bombed areas to safety and saw the look of panic and fear on their faces...... and I felt helpless. I live across the country from Boston, so there was nothing I could do to help at that moment.
Within seconds of seeing people fleeing the area, I then saw people running toward the injured. They were like fish trying to swim upstream as they negotiated their way through the crowds of people running away. But, by the looks on their faces, they were determined to help those who needed it so desperately. A lump developed in my throat and my heart jumped as I shouted "THERE THEY ARE! There are "The Helpers"! These "helpers" started grabbing the temporary fencing that had been used to block off the sidewalk from the runners and were flinging it aside to get to the injured people trapped underneath it. Men were taking off their shirts to use as gauze and whipping off their belts to use as tourniquets. Others were quickly carrying, or racing wheelchairs loaded with injured people to ambulances and a triage area. With little thought to their own safety, these people went back time after time to the affected area.
And just when you think the horror is over, a fertilizer plant in West, Texas explodes with enough force to register as a 2.1 magnitude earthquake and level part of a community. Scores were injured and an unknown number were killed. As my mind tried to wrap itself around this latest event, my heart leapt when I saw scores of communities from all over the state immediately send fire, police, EMT's, Careflight helicopters, and many others to assist this community. There are "the helpers"! A call went out that everyday items were needed to assist these families who had lost everything. Within a few short hours, West was inundated with every item they'd requested from people around the state who had dropped everything they were doing, hopped in their vehicles, and immediately delivered it to this devastated community. These are "the helpers".
As I sat down last night to watch the evening news, they showed a clip of the Boston Bruin's game as they were performing their opening ceremony for the first time since the bombing. The National Anthem was being performed and all of the fans, players, and coaches were singing their hearts out. It was one of the most powerful and patriotic versions I have ever heard. If you haven't heard it, or you've only heard a small clip, then here is a link to the posting on youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZzMsagY7oRs. They too are "the helpers".
If you know of more "Helper" stories, share them. Help others find the good. We all need help sometimes finding "the good" and "the helpers". By sharing more of the good, you then become one of "the helpers", and we can all use some good.
by: Christie Bielss
Today, on Easter Sunday, my children went out and picked me a bunch of "flowers" out of our yard. They were lovingly bunched together and presented with happy hearts, precious smiles, and loving hearts. They had worked hard to scour our yard for these weeds because my husband does his best to prevent them from growing and being an unsightly mess.
As I helped the kids pick out a vase, fill it with water, and place the arrangement ever so carefully into the vase, it got me to thinking about the number of times I did this for my Mother when I was their age. My brothers and I would pick "flowers" that were growing in a field owned by a local resident which was close to our home. Never once did she say that we'd bestowed upon her a bunch of weeds that would make her eyes water, her nose run, and cause sneezing fits so frequent she'd require an antihistamine. No, not once. She lovingly accepted them and never brought up their past.
It occurred to me on this holiest of holy days, these "flowers" were not dissimilar from me. I am that weed which is now a flower. There were many things that I have done in my life which could be held against me but someone came along who saw me for my inner beauty. Someone who could see what others discarded as being undesirable. That person was Jesus. He saw through my prickly points and my undesirable characteristics and spoke to my heart. He picked me before something came along which would prevent me from blooming. Just like the "flowers" my children picked for me today, my beginnings have been forgotten. While my life before Him was that of an undesirable weed, because of His love I am now a bouquet.
by: Christie Bielss
You say the phrase "Garage Sale" and people visibly cringe. With some people you can see the work, sweat, negotiating, and hours of sitting, flash before their eyes. With others, their shoulders instantly droop and their facial expression turns to one of great pain. For those crazy others, they instantly perk up at the word. They start rubbing their hands together in glee and get a big thrill at selling off all their unused (and sometimes currently being used) belongings.
I think I'm somewhere in the middle - I cringe and gripe but the thought of clearing more clutter out of my house is enough of a thrill to motivate me to get it gone. We have garage sales regularly to try and help our kids clear the clutter out of their rooms and prevent us from stubbing our toes, or worse - stepping on a Lego barefoot.
Our garage sale in November of 2005 though was unforgettable. We were preparing to move and there were a number of things we did not want to take with us, so this was an extraordinarily large sale. The sale was going along well. We were selling kid's clothes and toys by the boat load, knick knacks, and all sorts of other stuff were headed out at lightning speed as well. In addition to all of that stuff, we had decided to sell our Christmas tree, lights, ornaments, and other tree paraphernalia.
As we were winding down and the closing hour was upon us, a young father drove up in an older car with his 2 young children, around the ages of 4-6 years old. They walked up and were perusing what was left. The children were exceptionally well-behaved and from the quiet conversation the father was having with his children, we could tell that money was extremely tight. Then the oldest, a girl of about 6, noticed the Christmas tree. She quietly asked if it was for sale and we responded in the affirmative. She turned and told her Dad she'd found what she wanted to spend her money on. Her younger brother followed as she held her father's hand and led him to the Christmas tree and pointed to it. The young boy's eyes lit up and you could visibly see the excitement dancing across his face.
The father very quietly spoke to his daughter telling her there was no way she had enough money to buy that tree. She pleaded with him to ask how much it was. He relented and we told him $20. Her face fell, she only had $3. She pleaded with her father but he told her he couldn't make up the difference because he was out of work, their Mom was sick and they just didn't have the money. The boy went over and put his arms around his sister and said these words that I will remember for the rest of my life "It's ok. We'll just draw a picture of a Christmas tree like we did last year. Mama really liked it.". Embarrassed, the father was trying to quickly push his children out to the car.
My husband and I looked at each other and we both had tears in our eyes and didn't even need to speak to know what we were going to do. My husband ran after the father and stopped him as he was putting his kids in the car while trying to console his extremely sad daughter. My husband told him the tree was theirs - for free. The man refused. My husband looked the man in the eyes and asked him to allow us to spread the love of Jesus and the joy of the Christmas season by giving them the tree.
Both kids' expressions immediately changed to one of excitement as they looked up at their father with great hope he'd agree. How could any father refuse those angelic faces? The little girl jumped with glee and gave her Dad a hug first and then gave my husband the biggest bear hug you could imagine. The boy hopped out of the car and immediately shook my husband's hand like a gentleman and set about "helping" load the tree onto the car. The men quickly loaded the Christmas tree onto the car while I grabbed the boxes of lights, as well as all of the decorations, and started loading them into their trunk. The father thought he was only getting the tree and was shocked we were giving him everything.
After we loaded all of that, I took both kids back to the garage and asked them if they liked any of the toys. They each pointed out several items, which I put in a bag and handed to their father. As they were leaving and with tears running down his face, the father thanked us and told us how much we had blessed his family. With tears running down both of our faces, my husband told him that in truth he and his family had blessed us beyond measure.
Our thoughts on holding garage sales have never been the same since.
by: Christie Bielss
