I Miss My Time With You....

It had been a long day.  Once again, I was at a local pharmacy attempting to get a kid's prescription filled for a foster parent, all the while annoyed with myself for offering to help them out.....because it's technically not part of my job...and because I was missing my family and ready to go home.  My day had consisted of meeting up with countless people who had burdens and tragedies and endless pain in their life....most who thought it was all my fault.  They were eager to let me know how angry and hurt they were.  Now, at 7:30 at night, sitting at CVS, I thought to myself, "If I have to listen to one more person complain about how miserable they are, I am going to lose it".  That's when she showed up.  You know her.  That lady that always has some type of ailment and is constantly looking for a new victim to tell about it...and today was my lucky day.  I had seen her when she first got there.  Limping up to the counter making sure that she smiled at everyone on her way up there like "Don't you see me, Don't you feel sorry for me?" she motioned for the pharmacist.  Next, she spoke extra loud so everyone within the Ft. Oglethorpe area would know her ailment and feel her pain.  I can't even tell you what her issue was....I lost count after her 4th diagnosis.  The guy next to me was arguing with his wife about how stupid it was that he was going to have to pay the copay for HER meds....he had to pay them out of HIS account the last two times.  I rolled my eyes in annoyance and misery.  Then there was countless entourage of people rolling up to the window wanting their meds filled.  I heard the pharmacist say over and over again, "Sure, we can have those filled in about 30 minutes"....which really annoyed me since I was going into my 2nd "30 minutes".  My misery was so painful by now....I knew I was going to need a bed in a psych unit....or a large bag of peanut M&Ms.  Considering my deductible isn't met yet, I figured the M&M's would be more cost effective.  I was about to get up, when I heard it.  I heard a voice say "Mom".  It sounded just like my oldest baby, Michael.  I answered, "Yes?!"...."Michael?".  Then I heard it again, "Mom".  I got up out of that chair and started scoping the aisles, looking for my son.  He was calling me....and I needed to be wherever he was.  I looked everywhere, but to no avail. Then I saw the voice...he was an attractive teen boy, showing his mom the "As seen on TV" item that apparently was some kind of family joke, but he wasn't my Michael.  I was sad....and a little disappointed....I would have loved to see my boy right then.  I went to sit back in my chair at the pharmacy, that's when I realized something.  When I heard "my son's" voice....everything else just faded away.  My focus was completely on him...not the amount of time I had been there, not the hypochondriac lady....nothing but Michael.  An old Christian contemporary song by Larnelle Harris came to mind.  "I miss my time with you....those moment together...I need to meet with you each day, and it hurts me when you say....your too busy, busy trying to serve me...  It was a hit in the 80's and the concept of the song was that it was written from God's perspective...about how He feels when we don't pray and read His word....and spend those moments just talking and being in fellowship with our Father.  That day, in that pharmacy, I wanted to hear from my son so badly.  I missed him....and to see him at that moment....to have him walk thru those doors and just sit next to me, would have been a sweetness only a parent could understand.  I thought about that father that sat on his porch day after day waiting for his prodigal son to return home.  Then it hit me. That morning I had started with prayer....then the pone rang. Yesterday, I had started reading, then Katie woke up.  Day after day, morning after morning I could remember starting but not finishing....getting quick prayers sent up, or grabbing a verse to think on, if possible, but no real time with Him.  He and I have developed quite a "fast food relationship".  Calling on Him, telling Him what I need, picking it up, and driving away.  No conversation, no meditation.....just quickness out of duty...obligation....need.  I miss my time with Him....and I know He misses me.  So tomorrow, when I wake up, He won't have to be disappointed....He won't have to wonder if it's really me...it will be.  My maker and I....walking together...praising, worshiping, catching up....meditating. I believe I will start with a special time of praise....and thankfulness....after all, where would I be without peanut M&Ms?!

Chains...

I have a free standing 4 ½ foot tall jewelry box in the corner of my bedroom.  It’s one of those that have a top that opens upwards and doors that meet in the middle and open outwards.  Once those doors are opened, there are drawers going down the center of the cabinet. Each section has different forms of dividers….for earrings, bracelets, watches and rings.  The inside of the doors have about 30 hooks, for necklaces to be hung on.  It used to be full of all types of jewelry neatly organized.  Then my daughter discovered it.  Once she figured out how to open it, it became her favorite place to play.  Jewelry of all sorts would be found throughout the corners of our house.  In fact, it was so bad, that on most days I only have one earring on because my daughter has lost its match.  I put it in my left ear because my hair covers my right ear.  The jewelry group that suffered the most from this tiny tyrant was my necklaces.  I had necklaces made of beads, pearls, leather and all shades of chains.  Silver chains, white gold chains and gold chains….those were her favorite.  They were just too shiny, glittery and bright for her to resist.  She could put most of them right over her head and they would fall down over her chest.  She would preen around the house showing off her new found beauty from these beautiful chains adorning her.  They did look beautiful….for a little while.  After time, they started to irritate her.  They were a little itchy, or her hair would get caught in them.  She would try to take them off, but it was harder to get them up over her head than it was to put them on.  Now they were an irritant to her…they bothered her…they encumbered her.  This once beautiful shiny chain that adorned her had turned to something ugly that burdened her…it put her in…bondage.  Oh, friend….can I tell you how I have been there…can I tell you how that things that once were exciting, once enticing, once beautiful have a way of turning so ugly…so painful.  At first, it was something I thought I had a right to put on.  After all, I was the one who deserved it.  I had an injustice done to me and this beautiful shiny chain was going to be my way to make an ugly situation easier….prettier…bearable.  You see I had suffered abuse and this chain of unforgiveness gave me control.  That one chain turned in to two chains…the chain of bitterness.  Then I adorned myself with the chain of judgment…I thought I had a right to wear it.  I mean I wasn’t the one in the wrong to begin with…this was just a normal human reaction. Before I knew it, I was taken over by more chains than I ever intended to wear.  The cheap metal of some of them would irritate my neck turning places on my neck black.  The pendants on others would leave indentations in my neck from sleeping with them on.  Some of them would become tangled from rubbing together day after day.  They were no longer pretty or shiny.  They were ugly, dull and they bound me.  You may have done the same thing with your life.  That beautiful car that you just had to have may have become a chain of debt that you wish you had never put on.  Perhaps you felt rejected from your spouse and so the chain of pornography was soon found around your neck.  Maybe you were hurt at church and so chains of bitterness and separation from the body of Christ can be found encumbering you.  Possibly, you have gone through a painful divorce and you have willingly adorned yourself with the chains of anger and evil speaking.  My friends….oh my friends….let me tell you something…I have a God that can drop those chains right around your feet….and He doesn’t even have to touch them to do it.  You can do it….through Him.  Nothing can put you in bondage that you don’t allow.  We serve the Master, the Almighty One, the One who holds the keys to death, hell and the grave.  He created you….He has freely given you His power by declaring that you can do all things through Him.  Nothing can bind you….you serve an all-powerful God that has not given you a spirit of fear and bondage….but rather boldness and freedom.  Somebody raise up your voice and call upon the one who has freely given us all things and declare that this bondage must be no more.  Let me tell you how my daughter took those chains off.  She would take her two tiny hands and pull….she pulled until she felt the chain break free around her…and then she would drop them to the floor.  I would find remnants of chains scattered throughout the house.  Shackles…..broken.  Bondage…freed.  Freedom…..granted.  Friends, it’s time.  Just like the Tasha Cobb’s song says….It is time to break every chain.  There is power in the name of Jesus to break every chain.  Every chain.  Are you ready to be free…are you tired of carrying this mess around your neck?  Are you tired of being a free man willingly binding yourself up with these chains?  Pull them off in the name of Jesus.  Let them go…call upon Him to give you the strength to just free your spirit.  The same God that let those chains fall down around Paul’s feet in that prison…the same God that freed the Maniac of Gadara from the chains others put on Him….the same God that granted Samson the ability to break free from chains in order to topple over a building and kill the Philistines….that God, yes that God is the one that can break every chain you are carrying.  So grab your chains my friend and call on Him that can loosen them from you.  Once they are broken, drop them down and walk….no run, from them.  Don’t pick them up, just let them go.  Do you hear that?  Do you hear that clanking sound?  That’s the sounds of chains being dropped…I hear them…that my friend, is the sound of freedom.

History...

I love history.  I'm not necessarily a history buff...but I do enjoy learning about the past.  I like museums, documentaries...even reading the Old Testament is fascinating to me.  You know what I've learned...the past always has a way of showing up in present day life.  Isn't that crazy? What's crazier is the amount of work people do to keep the past "in the past".  Ironically, we spend so much time trying to not remember...that we lose sight of the insight the past brings.  I was watching a documentary on Nelson Mandela a little while ago.  A journalist was interviewing him about the people that had imprisoned him, wrongfully, for so many years.  The journalist asked, "Didn't you hate those people even after they let you go"?  Nelson Mandela responded, "Briefly...but then I said to myself, they had me for 37 years...if you still hate them when you walk out that door, then they still have you."  I had to pause my television, just to capture all that that statement said.  I rewound the clip and watched it again (thank you Direct TV for the ability to pause and rewind live TV)...and then I rewound it a third time. I couldn't get past that statement..."If you still hate them when you walk out that door, then they still have you".  It made me wonder how many people still had a hold on me.  How many people had taken from me...and were continuing to take everyday because I had not let go of them and forgiven.  When Dr. Smith came to our church last fall he stated that "Forgiveness in our own strength is not hard....it's impossible".  Let me tell you how I saw this in my own life.  My birth mother was/is a heroin addict. She sold herself for a living...and when I was young she realized that she could make money off of me as well to feed her habit. I remember...and it was bad.  Fast Forward 35+ years...fast forward past the foster care, salvation, adoption, Christian school, ministry...everything amazing I've been through...fast forward to last Tuesday night. Our small group met at Rib&Loin BBQ for food and Bible-Study.  Bible study is always better with a loaded pork potato and banana pudding.  I was talking to my co-pastor's wife, who had just returned from a missions trip.  She and a few other ladies had gone to the Dominican to work with women who had been involved in and rescued from the sex trade industry. She had been telling us about the area they went to and how the men were very blatant in their gestures and hissing cat calls. I have memories of that from my own childhood. She then casually asked me if I would be interested in going back with them in June.  I wanted to vomit...my pulse started to race and instantly tears came to my eyes.  The thought of going to any place that brought back those memories was more than I could handle.  I didn't even feel a twinge of desire or need to go there...but my reaction to her simple request made me have to stop and think.  That night, cuddled up next to my husband, in the quiet of the night (other than his snoring), I wondered if I really didn't feel called or if my anger and hurt was keeping me from going.  Is it possible that like Mr. Mandela had stated, "If you still hate them when you walk out that door, then they still have you"...that they still had me?  The answer is, I don't know.  I'm still working on figuring that out...it could just be that emotionally that situation just hits too close to home.  Either way, I'm going to figure it out and see if some forgiveness is long overdue in my life.  Who has a hold on your life?  Are you struggling because you haven't forgiven an ex-husband...a friend...or a boss that wronged you?  We all need to pause life from time to time to make sure we aren't slowing down or limiting the plan God has for our life, by not letting go of those who have wronged us.  Let today be your day of freedom...maybe even with a loaded pork potato and banana pudding.

Leprosy...

I was sitting on the back row of our church auditorium.  It was another year of “Christmas in Ringgold”….an event that our church hosts every year.  Basically, it’s a Christmas Cantata stretched out over four weeks.  This year we are doing an event that attempts to cover the whole story of the Bible…with the Christmas story being just a part of it.  That’s why, last Sunday, there were lepers.  Yes….lepers.  We were covering the part in scripture where Jesus was on the earth doing miracles….teaching….and healing.  So, we had two teenage boys made up as lepers for Jesus to heal.  They had gauzy white head wraps as if to cover missing ears and injured heads.  They had hanging skin and scabs that our make-up artist had strategically placed all over their faces.  The make-up magic would happen when Jesus touched their heads, pulled the gauze down over their faces, pulling off all the flaky leprosy scabs….giving the appearance of them being healed.  It really was convincing.  So convincing…that before the service began…I was mildly annoyed with our lepers.  I have a semi-weak stomach when it comes to leprosy, and a few other things.  Before the service, we have these sweet ladies in red aprons that walk around with platters of all sorts of goodies….fudge, cookies…cinnamon bites and other delightful treats.  Here was the problem…the service had not started, but our lepers felt the need to wander around, in full make-up and costume.  Here’s the problem. As I sat on the back pew, within my line of vision from the left side came that platter of delicious scrumptious goodies…then from the right came the lepers.  It was too much for me to handle crunchy cookies, while looking at scabby leprosy…I just couldn’t do it.  It looked just a little too real for me.  Needless to say, there were no goodies for me.  So, the service started…I got up did my narration and the song began that our Jesus was going to perform His miracles in….including the healing of the lepers.  Here they came down the aisle…the crowd was hovering behind Jesus to stay away from the “unclean”.  They staggered in front of Jesus, and just like the Bible says, he healed the lepers….right in front of the church.  It was awesome to watch the miracles acted out….made me wish I had been there…back when those things really happened, just to see Jesus in action.  The song ended, and I was getting ready to go back up and narrate…when I saw something…..something rather unpleasant.  Both of our lepers had left their gauzy, flake encrusted wraps right on the floor where they landed when Jesus took them off.  Again, I was grossed out….even further bothered, because I knew I was going to have to grab them and fling them to the side out of the view of the audience. So I did it.  The lights went down; I hunched over on my way up to the stairs, grabbed the flaky grossness and flung them off stage….that was when it hit me.  They had left their sickness, disease, the flakes and all, right where Jesus had healed them.  Wow.  My mind started racing….connecting the dots….putting myself in that very song I had just watched performed.  See I wasn't there when the lepers were healed or Jarius’ daughter was raised to life or when the woman with the issue of blood was cured by her faith. I wasn't there when the Pharisees threw the woman found in adultery at the feet of Jesus….rocks in hand…ready to rid society of her filth.  (*Happy Dance*Tears While Typing*) Nope, I wasn't there for those miracles, but let me tell you what I was there for! I was there when He gloriously saved me from the worthless sinner that I am….I was there when He was the only Father I had, because my birth father never knew me….I was there when he gave me a hand-picked a family to love me, the orphan with no one….I was there when He used this worthless sinner to speak to hundreds of ladies over and over again as His mouthpiece….I was there when he restored me from the wreckage of a failed marriage…I was there when He healed me of cancer not once but 4 times…and my story is still being written.  The same miracles that enabled those lepers to leave their past right where Jesus had taken it off…have happened to me….and probably to you, too.  Let’s stop living like those bandages and scars define us…..by causing bitterness…anger…or wrecked relationships.  Let’s take those rags off and leave them….right where He meant for them to stay.  Your past doesn't define you….He does.  Step right over those gauzy, flaky rags and walk towards that platter, because He has all kinds of goodies in store for you.

Mrs. Harvey

Her name was Mrs. Harvey.  She had blonde, shoulder length, frosted hair that parted in the middle with feathered bangs on either side of her forehead.  She wore powder blue eye shadow and bright pink lip stick. She had a slender athletic build with a miniature waist that she always wore a thin belt around.  She wore shimmery dresses and nude pantyhose. Her shoes were peep toe kitten heels...and I thought she was the most beautiful person I had ever seen.  Her husband was a tall, dark and handsome pilot in the Air Force...I thought he was dreamy.  Mrs. Harvey had a powder blue Camaro with silver sparkles...the most amazing car I had ever seen.  She was my fourth grade teacher and I wanted to be her when I grew up.  She was always kind, always patient...and I idolized her.  One day, toward the end of the school year, Mrs. Harvey made an announcement.  Her husband, who had been stationed at McCord Air Force base there in Washington, had been stationed to another base...and so they would be moving. I was stunned. Sitting in my little desk, with the wooden lift top that let you keep all your stuff inside, I lifted the desk top to cover my tears.  How could this be? Mrs. Harvey was my teacher...and I needed her to stay. Why did she need to go with her husband? Confused and sad I just tried to process this in my head. It had never occurred to me that Mrs. Harvey had a life outside of the realm I knew her in.  I had never thought of her in a grocery store, or out with friends....or even as having parents she went to see at Christmas...I only knew her and thought of her as my teacher. In my world I confined her in this little box....and a teacher is all I viewed her as.  Have you ever done this with someone?  Ever put limits on them based on your own perception? I'm ashamed to say I have done this not only with Mrs. Harvey...but also with God.  I confined Him to my own perceptions of what He is...and not who He was? I knew He was the Great Physician...but didn't see Him as my Healer.  I knew that He was omni-present and all powerful....but didn't count on Him to be my refuge, and my very present help.  I was aware that He owned the cattle on a thousand hills, but didn't count on Him to supply my electric bill.  And yet...He does....and He is.  In my small little mind I had limited my God to what He had or had not done for me...when in fact, that couldn't be farther from the truth.  Isaiah 40 states that all the stars in the sky fit with in the span of His hand...that's the length from the tip of His thumb to the tip of His middle finger.  It goes on to say that all the waters in the oceans fit in the palm of His hand.  That's how big He is.  A God that big and that great can't be limited to just our experiences...we have to look at the whole picture....and the whole story, to see the magnitude and the miracles our God does.  It seems that each trial and each victory shows me a new aspect of my Savior.  He has healed me of cancer...not once, but 4 times. He has provided for me....every day of my life.  He has loved me...when no one else did.  He has always done exceedingly and abundantly above all that I could ever ask or think. His greatness isn't just evidenced in my life....it's been seen in the countless number Christians that have gone before me....and those I see every day.  Moses - murderer to leader. Rahab -  harlot to great faith. David - adulterer to a man after God's own heart.  Paul - persecutor to preacher...(fast-forward)...Valerie - cancer to healed. Chuck - homeless addict to a sold-out believer. Lisa - broken to restored.  Our stories are still being written....who knows what amazing aspect of God will be revealed to you in the next chapter of your life.  Just remember not to limit Him...we have not begun to see the greatness of our God.  He will blow you away with what He has in store...just like the wind used to blow through Mrs. Harvey's hair in her powder blue Camaro with silver sparkles.

Surprise! I'm not perfect!

I have a startling confession to make.  This is going to take some of you back…so…brace yourself….I…am not perfect.  I’m almost perfect…but not quite.  I have no toenail on my left big toe. As in nothing…just bare toe.  Due to this slight imperfection, I have to wear an acrylic toenail.  Once my toenail is on…my feet look fabulous.  My open toe and peep toe shoes look adorable…and no one can tell.  There is one problem with my fake toe nail…it doesn't stay on well.  One time I bumped it on a chair in court and it landed on the witness stand.  Another time I was in church and had a glass of tea next to my chair…something must have happened because the next thing I knew, I was drinking my toe nail. On my honeymoon I realized in the wee hours of the morning that it had come off in the bed.  I was like a ninja trying to comb my hands through the sheets so I could superglue my toenail back on before my husband woke up. It has a mind of its own and seems to pop off at the most inopportune times.  There is a way to make it pretty secure however.  It requires the perfect blend of acrylic, a nail tip, and superglue.  Now, I have been getting this done for years, and I know the way that works best.  The problem is, that every nail salon I go to thinks they know how to do it better.  I get tired of explaining myself….every time…to whoever gets assigned my pedicure.  Even people that have done it before, still continue to haggle with me over the right way to do it.  Just this past Saturday I had to explain, again, the proper way to do it.  It’s on, but he still didn't do it the right way.  As a result, this morning, I was putting on my superglue to hold it in place.  It got me thinking about some other things in my life.  I may be an expert on my toenail….but there are other things I really struggle with.  Ironically, I am quite a bit like my nail technician.   God has a whole book that spells out for me how to deal with life, trials and struggles….but I often insist on doing things my way.  As if I know better…as if I am an expert on life.  I stress about things like groceries and bills…when He tells me He will supply for every need.  I worry about my cancer coming back…when He clearly tells me that He won’t bring me through what I can not handle.  I try to manipulate situations to have outcomes that I want…when He tells me that He will work all things together for my good.  I worry about being alone in trials…when he tells me that He will never leave me or forsake me.  Chances are, you have found yourself in the same boat I have.  Trying to tell God what is best for our life and how it needs to work.  Isn't it tiring?  Aren't you ready to just rest in that peace that passes all understanding and cast all your cares upon Him?  I know I am.  So rather than mess things up, raise my blood pressure or have another sleepless night…I am going to do it His way.  That will be my only guarantee that I will be doing things right…and they will work…without superglue.

Rules

It was late and I was tired. Don't worry....I still looked fabulous, but I was tired. This has been an exhausting week of on-call for me beacause I have had to go out almost every evening. Once again my phone rang and so out the door I went. I headed out to pick up two children and place them in a foster home. Now, this may suprise you...but I'm a pretty laid back worker, as in I don't get worked up about much. This has led me to a list of rules that I follow in my work because they make my job a tiny bit less stressful. Rule #6: I don't chase runners...ever. If a kid is going to run from me, I let them go. That might sound strange to you, but I have a reason. Unless they are running towards me, I'm never going to catch them. They are trying to run away....that intent and goal makes them have even more speed because they are determined. I, on the other hand, can't put my hands on them so what would I do once I got to them? I can't hold them down, tackle or stop them....so why waste all that energy and let's not forget about my shoes! These shoes I wear are not made for running. On this particular call I was wearing black, lace covered Guess stillettos, with a patent leather bow just below the peep toe...they are simply divine. Anyway, I really just wanted to get this call over so I could get home. I arrive at my destination, get the kids and head to the car. That's when the five year old made a run for it. I wasn't particularly stressed...because he's five, his legs are shorter than mine, I mean how far could he really go. So I try my usual tactics like "Hey buddy, can you show me how your car seat works?" and "Little man, want some candy?". He would stop and listen then look like he was debating....and then start running again. So, I waited. The area was well lit...but in order to get away from me, he was going to have to run into the shadows and I guess that looked too scary for him. He would get close to the darknes and then sprint back into the light. Basically I was watching a five year old do a running shadow dance...I figured when he got tired he'd come back....and he did. Now I'm more tired and feeling a little frazzled, so I was relieved to get on the road and head to the foster home. Now, this house has a huge hill...actually, it's more like Mt. Everest, for their driveway. It's one of those that when you try to get out of your car you get beaten down by your car door that keeps trying to shut. So here I am in 4 inch stillettos trying to get out of the car on a hill.....needing to hold onto the car door just to get out and stay upright...but it keeps shutting on me. Mercifully, the foster mom sees me and heads out. She goes around and gets the little one out of his car seat, and I go to get the five year old out of his. The door is pushing on my hiney while I'm trying to unbuckle his 5 point harness seat, balancing on 4 inch stilettos....on the side of a Mt. Everest. My head keeps bumping into the kids head so he is now holding my head up by my bangs to keep me from bumping him anymore and kicking me with his cowboy boots. Sweet mother of mercy...I was so over it at this point. I get him unbuckled and hold the door open (feeling like I'm going to fall forward at any minute since I am now facing down hill in 4 inch stilettos)..and that's when he took off. I saw him running down the hill, but I thought how far can he really go...he's just five. Well let me tell you, that kid was part cheetah. I'm standing there (barely) with a laundry basket and a car seat...foster mom is holding a toddler and an open pack of diapers...and cheetah boy is running for his life right down the middle of the street. I attempt to climb up the hill towards the porch so I can put the clothes basket and the car seat down. However, there was no way i could do it in my shoes. I put the basket and seat down and had to take off my shoes...I wrestled with the car door again so I could throw my shoes in the front seat. Then, barefoot, I grabbed the basket and seat and put them on the porch. Meanwhile, foster mom had decided to take off after cheetah boy who was running for his life in those little cowboy boots. I see her running with a toddler in her arms, leaving a trail of diapers behind her. Rule #6: I don't chase runners...ever. Well, considering the cheetah boy appeared to be on his way to Michigan, I was going to have to make an exception. So, I got my chase on. Yep, I got in my car, backed down Mt. Everest and started after the boy. I couldn't see him or foster mom anymore, so I followed the trail of diapers. My windows were down and I could hear her yelling my name...I see her, with the toddler, and cheetah boy in tow. I had already removed the car seat....so he held my hand....through the widow, all the way back to the house and up Mt. Everest. Finally, in my bare feet, I get the kids placed and am on my way home...barefoot and completely frazzled. I was laughing out loud in my car just visualizing the whole fiasco. It's funny how in life we make a set of rules based on our experiences. Rules like, "I'll never marry becuase I don't trust men" or "I don't go to church because churches are full of hypocrites". Rules that define our life...but don't always make sense. Often we make these rules to protect ourselves from being hurt. Well I'm here to tell you, that your number 1 rule should be the same as mine....Be Flexible. God is going to bring, or maybe has brought already, so many opportunities into your life...and if you can't be flexible and put your heart and life out there...you may miss something amazing. Can I take it a step farther? Don't let anything stand between you and your relationship with God. If you have His direction and leading....just go with whatever it is. Don't let rules, caution or others stand between you and doing His will in your life. Just take off those stillettos, throw them in the front seat and head on after that cheetah that He wants you to pursue. After all, He's God, and He's got this.