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June  2017
In This Issue
The Dance of Ministry: Reflecting on My First Year as a Pastor's Wife
One Way to Deposit Courage into Your Soul Today
4th of July Craft Idea Patriotic Kids Blower
How Vulnerability Can Lead to Sweet Unexpected Friendship
Heidi Petersen 
Immanuel Church
Gurnee, IL 
 
It is most certainly summer here at what we affectionately call "Pete's
Ministry is a dance. And sometimes I'm a willing
dance partner. Other times I have to be
dragged out on the floor...
Retreat." The day starts  early for the three youngest boys. They share a rather large room with separate beds, yet at  night when we check in on them, they're huddled together, passed out like puppies in one bed.  As soon as the sun starts to come in through the curtains & the birds start singing their morning  tune, they are AWAKE and HUNGRY. Which usually means Josh is half asleep, stumbling t hrough the kitchen in desperate need for coffee that can't come quickly enough. (That's right -  HE makes the coffee. It's what makes him one of my favorite people).

I n the hopes of offering them the most tech free summer possible, we spend our days outside.  Discovery and play at its finest. Which is mostly me running them into the ground so they're  completely worn down by bedtime (funny how it feels the other way around). As exhausting as it c an be, Josh and I want to remember these days - praying by the end, we'll still be in tact. Our  mantra for the summer is "Embrace the moment in front of you gracefully and surrender the  rest." Which means a lot of embracing the squabbling, dirty boys & sticky floors and then  surrendering to the squabbling, dirty boys and sticky floors. At night we collapse into each other  feeling grateful.

Sleep and repeat.

Our intentional presence with Jake, Logan, Cole and Sawyer is a new practice for the two of us.  Up until this past year we've been spinning so many plates, oftentimes at the cost of our elationship with our boys and each other. It's a miracle we managed to hold on. I can only reflect on Josh's first year in the lead pastor role in light of the years that led up to that point.  And it all began when we bought our first home together.

 
And while kind words indeed give courage to others, kind words take a good dose of courage to deliver as well
by  Kristen Strong

A short while ago, I met the Most Perky Panera Employee ever.

Her name tag read Anna, and she sported a cute pixie cut that made her Panera apron look like something from a Paris runway. As she took my order, her words bounced throughout the store like a pep squad leader's, cheerful and bright. Given the late evening time, I wondered if she'd thrown back more than one espresso through the course of the day.

Not long after taking my seat close to the counter, a teenage boy plodded in, feet heavy and tired. He approached the counter, fingers combing his sandy blonde hair as he mumbled to Anna,

"Um, can I . . . uh . . . get a job application?"

Anna immediately sprang into action.

"Of course! I'd be thrilled to help you out!" she leaned slightly across the counter, her smile sparkling. "Now listen, you can find everything you need online. Go to panera.com and fill out their application tonight, k? Don't skip any of the parts! Then come here first thing tomorrow morning and turn it in. That's what I did and I got a call for an interview within a few days!"

The boy looked bewildered but nodded...

These Patriotic Kids Blowers will be a lot of fun. Whether you are having a Summer party or you are just looking for a great craft to make with your children. This one will blow them away.

When we find ourselves journeying alone, afraid, hurting, we can expect one of God's greatest provisions to be the friend who shows up, maybe even unexpectedly, and walks beside us. This friendship is sweeter than anything else. 
by Kristin Vanderlip

We sat across from each other at a small table surrounded by glass displays of bakery treats lining bubblegum-pink walls. Everything in the cupcake bakery screamed too sweet and too bright. To me it felt like the place where the surface level world, dressed in their Sunday best with plastered on smiles, would go to fake fine.

We were two souls who had just met, ready to share two oversized and over-frosted cupcakes. But to my surprise, and relief, we weren't meeting merely for the cupcakes or to share superficial words.

A few days before, in a conference room full of brand new Army wives, a speaker led a discussion on how to care for a family who loses a soldier. Normally the introvert, I surprised myself when my hand shot up. I found myself voluntarily sharing my experiences on loss and the grief I was knee-deep in after having just lost my child and father within weeks of each other.

The speaker was grateful for my contribution to the discussion, but I could feel the silence and awkwardness in the room forcing me to shrink back in my seat.

When we were dismissed, I rushed to my car, thankful to hide in the darkness of the night.

Anxiety and regret ran rampant inside me, and I scolded myself for revealing my broken heart to a group of women I didn't know.

But the act that I thought was stupidly vulnerable ended up being the switch that God used to ignite a connection and bring me a friendship I wasn't looking for, but needed. Later that same evening, one of the wives from the meeting found me on social media and sent me a message inviting me to meet for cupcakes.

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