Prelude to a book.

Another cold dreary, icy day. So what do you do?  Watch TV, eat, talk to yourself?  I really shouldn't be eating or talking to myself, but at least I did pick an inspiring movie to watch on TV, Julie & Julia.  I've only watched about 20 minutes so far, and I've already been inspired--inspired to blog again.  The character Julie, decides to begin blogging out of boredom and frustration in her life at the urging of her husband.  But she doesn't know what to blog about.  So her husband tells her to blog about something she is passionate about. She loves cooking and Julie Child, so she decides to make every recipe in one of Julia Child's recipe books in the span of just one year and to blog about it daily.  I love that idea.  But there's no way I would want to cook that much because then I'd have to eat that much.  Well, maybe not THAT much, but a lot...some.

Well, I'm passionate about two things these days, God and how I got to this point of being passionate about God.  And I had a couple of God moments a few weeks ago that I couldn't deny.

I couldn't sleep one night.  For some reason, the story of my life just kept getting in the way of my ability to go to sleep.  I'm pretty sure it had something to do with Louie Giglio's message which I had watched the morning before.  Louie was talking about using wherever you are and whatever you are doing in your life as a platform to make Jesus known to the world.  One of the statements he made was, "God's purpose in our life is to know Jesus and to make Jesus known."  Wow, I love that.  I don't have to wonder any more what my purpose is in life, I just need to find my platform.

So as I laid there in the wee hours of the morning, God told me to write my story--my testimony.  I had lived most of my life denying the existence of God and now here I was at 68 years old, wanting the whole world to experience what I've experienced--the transformation that comes when you accept Christ into your life.

God knows I love to write.  I have to believe that my desire to write is a gift from Him.  I was so excited that Sunday morning when I got up and was getting ready for church.  It was all I could think about.  I started sorting out all of the little stories in my mind that make up the big story of my life.  I wanted to start writing right then and there, but it was Sunday, I was going to church.

Now I'm sitting on the front row at church with my daughter and grandson and friends and the message that my pastor was giving was called, It's About Time.  Whoa...I'm thinking, "About time for what?"  And of course, the message was all about timing and not waiting, but doing what God has called you to do.  If I were not a believer, this is where I would be like, "spookeeee".

Oh but wait...it gets even better.  I come home and I'm just fooling around on my phone--playing Words With Friends, (with friends of course) and checking out Facebook posts.  Okay, so you all know about the ads that just pop up in the middle of Facebook feeds, right?   I ignore most of them, but occasionally one pops out at me, like on this day.  Now, I have to say this before I tell you about the ad that popped up.  I had not texted or posted anything on my phone about my intent to write my life story--nothing.  But, there it was--an ad from Guideposts publications asking if I'd ever thought about writing my story and offering an online class for $24.95 on How To Tell A Great Story.  IKR?

So, needless to say, I'm writing my life story, my testimony.  And I'll be blogging about it now as it develops. I have already written quite a bit and I can confirm that writing down memorie can be quite painful, but at the same time, it can be a very enlightening and healing experience.  Oh yeah, and I found that I can actually make myself laugh out loud.

TBC

Okay, okay, I got the message.....

Ummm...I'm not so sure I did get the message.  Last night I sat down to compose this blog, worked on it for at least 30 minutes, clicked on "publish" only to find out that just the first two sentences were available to publish.  So I sat here wondering what the deal was.  How did that happen?  I concluded that it wasn't meant for me to publish that blog, I was too tired to type it over again anyway, so I abandoned the idea and posted some lame status on Facebook instead.

Now this morning I decide that yes, I will take the time to retype that blog.  I had invested about 15 minutes in it when I apparently clicked on the wrong key on my keyboard when holding down on the shift key and it all disappeared---AGAIN!!!

Now, here's my dilema...do I try again or do I take these two "signs" as indications that for some reason, it was not meant for me to post what I thought was going to be a clever blog?   Hmmm...what to do? What to do?  Okay, because you're reading this as I type, you know that I've already made my decision.  But I didn't make it too hastily--I mulled it over in my mind for at least 5 minutes.  Bear with me, if you read this whole thing, you'll understand why.

It all started Saturday morning at my grandkids' football/soccer games.  I'm sitting on a blanket with my daughter when I see this little red-headed girl coming towards us.  I say, "Ginger alert"--you know, just trying to let my daugher know that I'm "hep" to the term.  My daughter just about lost it though--the little girl belonged to her friend who was standing there beside us who did indeed hear me.  Oh well...you can't suck them words back in--they're out there.  A short time later, one of the kids from the opposing team really does a fine job of scoring on us.  I say, "Wow, that little girl is good!"  No biggie, right?  Except that it was a little boy and his parents were sitting on the other side of us.  My daughter has now asked me to leave--jokingly...I think. And there was one more, but I don't want to even get into that one--if you're really curious, message me on FB. 

So now it's Sunday and I'm at WCC, my church, where I was on "duty" as a 1st Sunday Hospitality Team member.  Our team "circles up" to have a brief meeting (or a meeting to be briefed)  before we move into action.  Missy, our awesome leader, starts by asking how everyone is doing.  Most people respond by saying, "Good", "Great", "Fine".  Well, I started telling Missy about how my back has been hurting--she asked, right?  Now she gives me "the look" and walks across the circle to stand by someone else and then announces to everyone, "Never sit next to Sharon in a church service, she will embarass the heck out of you".  We all laugh, right?  She was being funny...right?

Well, I'm not so sure.  About an hour later I was on my break--yes Missy, I needed a break--you know how being nice just drains me sometimes.  So, I go to the coffee bar to get a cup of coffee and a donut.  As I approach the counter, the guy behind it says, "Uh oh, here comes trouble".  To which I reply, "How rude!!"  Now I know the guy is messing with me--I don't know him personally, but we've bantered back and forth before.  We chatted a bit about having like personalities and then he says, "I don't care what other people say, I like you anyway".  I laugh (I am on duty remember) but it's not like I haven't heard that one before.  So now I head over to another area to eat the donut, drink the coffee and finish my break.  As I'm headed back to my designated area, I see this group of men looking at me...kind of funny like.  So I say, "Were you guys talking about me or something?"  And one of them says, "Well, I was just telling these guys that I don't care what other people say, I like you anyway".  SERIOUSLY?!!!  Twice in one day?!  Twice in about 15 minutes?!!  Are people really talking about me?  Should I care?  Well, we always care, right?  The good news is, the sentence ended with, "I like you anyway".  : )

Now, fast forward to being in the church service.  Missy was nice enough to invite me to sit with her family inspite of me being me--and you'd think she'd know better.  The first thing she says to me as Shawn steps up onto the platform is, "Today is Shawn's birthday".  Which I did know at one time, but had forgotten.  So, I say, "We ought to sing Happy Birthday to him".  She smiles and says something like, "That would be cool".  Missy talks like that a lot.  So I start singing Happy Birthay and the whole congregation joins in.  It was cool and Missy even told me I was forgiven for my earlier behavior.  Yes!!

And now pastor Shawn's message...James 3:3-11  the "taming of the tongue".  6 "...the tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body."  Really?  Was it possible that Shawn was able to switch messages instantly,  right there on the spot as he saw me enter the worship center?  I know he does have some unexplainable powers, but seriously?  But again, there is good news within this message.  8 "....but no man can tame the tongue.  It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison."  I'm not a man, I'm a woman.  You'd have to assume that if "no man" can tame his tongue, it would be virtually impossible for a woman!!  I think it even says that somewhere in the Bible, but don't quote me.

So, did I get the message or not?  Will I make a miraculous change overnight?  Don't hold your breath.  I mean, twice I got signs that I should not even be posting this blog, but I did anyway. 

I'm thinking that it might be easier to change everyone else--they need to be less sensitive.  Oops, I think I did it again!!

@Sharon Hutchens   #bitingmytongue

Undignified Praise

Last night I hooked up with one of my high school BFFs at a big Rock & Roll party in Indep. Her name is Hope. And talk about someone that is full of hope and faith. On her car windows, in large type, she has the phrase "Keep Hope Alive". She is a hoot and I just love her--her and her fiery red hair. ; )

At the party, she invited me to visit her church this morning, the New Life in Christ International Ministries in Grandview, MO. I met her out there at 10:30. When I walked in the front door, I was immediately greeted by a couple of very friendly people that seemed genuinely excited that I had come. I signed in at the front desk as a visitor and when I told the lady behind the desk that I was invited by a friend, she asked the name of my friend and when I told her she said she knew right where she was. She got up immediately and took me into the sanctuary and offered me a seat by Hope. This wasn't the service though--this was a women's bible study group prior to the 11:00 service. Hope introduced me to many of her friends--her "sisters in Christ". I'm going to go ahead here and be blunt or what some may call "politically incorrect" and say that this was a predominately black church--Hope and I were quite obviously members of the minority group of about 6-8 white people. And yet, I don't know that I've ever felt more welcomed and part of a group than I did this morning at that church.

When the worship music started and 3-4 ladies started singing Gospel songs, I was blown away. These ladies could sing and the entire congregation was on their feet praising the Lord like nothing I've ever seen or been a part of before. Well, that's not exactly true, I visited a church in New Orleans during a missions trip there and they came close. I only knew one song, but that didn't matter--I could clap and I could move and I did--for about an hour. I even knew the last worship song we sang, Nobody Greater, one of my favorites. It was so exciting.

Then a minister came out, did some announcements and introduced the 5 or 6 new visitors, me included, and he told the congregation to make us welcome. They did! People were coming from all over to hug me and say, "God bless you for coming sister and we hope you come again". And they meant it. I was overwhelmed, to say the least.

And then came the offering. What an experience. We all held up our offering envelopes, waved them in the air as we sang a worship song about offering it up to the Lord. And it didn't end there. As the "captain" came down the aisle with a large basket with a purple velvet lining, each row passed their envelopes to the end of the aisle and shouted as loud as they could--hallelujah!, Amen! or whatever you wanted to holler as the offering song was also being sung. It was an event. It was exciting being a part of a group of people so full of joy and love for the Lord.

As if all of this weren't enough already--we had praised God beyond anything I'd ever experienced, and now we were also going to get a message from Apostle Rice and his wife, Doris. They were amazing--"on fire" is how I might describe them. Very exciting. My phone vibrated in my purse, so I checked to see who I might be getting a message from. I checked the time also--it was 2:00 p.m.--I had been there for 2 1/2 hours and it wasn't over. Incredible how time flies when you're caught up in an experience like this. When praising and thanking God is the order of the day--not the minutes ticking away on the clock.

As I drove home, a song that the WCC Gospel Choir sings came into my mind, Undignified Praise. Sometimes I think we've become too dignified. God doesn't care whether were sitting or standing or singing or shouting--He just wants (and expects) our praise. We let him have it today.

I am so glad that my dear friend Hope wanted to share this with me.



KEEP HOPE ALIVE!

I've been sitting here at the keyboard for about 15 min. trying to figure out how to start this blog. Have you ever just felt so passionate about something and wanted to share it with the rest of the world, but didn't know how to start?

Well, I figured it out. Go see the movie, The Help. It's awesome. And, before or after seeing it, read "Letter from a Birmingham Jail [M.L.King, Jr.]" 16 April 1963.
A friend encouraged me to read the letter last week and I am so glad. What an incredibly eloquent piece of writing.

The movie, the letter and an in-depth conversation with one of my daughters today about the state of our nation, just pushed me over the edge emotionally, spiritually and passionately.

Now I wait patiently for God to tell me what to do with all of this.

Awesome Men

"God is always seeking you. Every sunset. Every clear blue sky. Every ocean wave. The starry host of night. He blankets each new day with the invitation 'I am here'. Somehow, we know He's there. The creation surrounding us tells us there's more to this life than living and dying. To us, ready or not, Jesus came. To us, worthy or not, He appeared. Accepting or not, we find His footprints in Palestinian soil."

I read these words on page 23 of Louie Giglio's book, The Air I Breathe--thank you Ron R. for loaning it to me. Louie Giglio is the most current awesome man that God has placed in my life. I can't get enough of him and the way that he expresses himself about the greatness of God, the Salvation delivered through Jesus Christ and the existence of the Holy Spirit. I am so passionate at this time in my life about Jesus Christ and my walk with Him. Thanks to Louie and a few other awesome men in my life.

The journey started with Chuck about 6 years ago. He had always been a believer, not me. But he had been through some major health issues and felt a strong desire to get closer to God. We started "church shopping". I was willing to do this, but I was basically appeasing him. He had said to me many times in our 38 year marriage, "I feel so sorry for you because I won't see you in heaven." That meant a lot to him, but not to me, the non-believer. So, after visiting 3 or 4 churches, we landed at Woods Chapel United Methodist. We stayed because we both liked the pastor, Jeff Brinkman. I almost always came away from one of his sermons just positive that he had been speaking to me directly, and I needed that.

Chuck passed away just 3 years later. We had started the process of becoming members mostly because that seemed like the next step. I didn't feel a real connection to Jesus Christ--I was just going through the motions. But the day Chuck died, Jeff Brinkman was at my door. He had some very profound words to say to me. Within a few days, he was back at my house sitting with me and my girls, listening to us tell about the awesome husband/father that we had lost. He performed the service and it was beautiful--my girls (also pretty much non-believers) were finding out for themselves, what an awesome man of God Jeff Brinkman is. A few months later, Jeff performed the wedding ceremony for Angela and Patrick and baptized me just 4 months after that. I now consider Jeff B. a dear friend and I am so grateful for the part he has played in connecting me to Jesus Christ.

And then came Kris Bartman, our music director at WCC. I joined the Gospel Choir--inspired by the 1st combined concert performance of the WCC Gospel Choir and the St. Mark's Union Church Gospel Choir. Kris was such an inspiration to all of us. His passion for Christ was so obvious. There were times in choir practice that he could barely contain it. He taught us about the importance of singing praises to God and how by our example, we could lead others to do the same. He was just awesome--and still is, just somewhere else. God lead him in another direction and there's no doubt in my mind, that many others will find him just as awesome as I did.

Shortly after Kris left, God placed another awesome man in my life. One of the most spiritual men I've ever known. We have prayed together every day for over three months and the words and the way he expresses his thoughts just amaze me. We haven't seen each other for about 11 years--it's a Facebook/phone relationship, but one that I feel so blessed to have and one that I thank God for every day.

And now, back to the beginning--Louie Giglio. I can't share all of the awesome men that have been in my life--the ones who have helped me get to where I am today, but I can share Louie Giglio. Here is the link to the 1st in a 5-part video series on how incredible God is.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewKtSKbWZUI

If you want to feel passionate or renew your passion for Christ, do yourself a favor and tune into Louie. I'll be seeing him in person on May 15th as he and Chris Tomlin open the permanent location for Passion City Church in Atlanta, GA.

I am so excited!

Gotta Love the God Moments

So, I went to bed fairly early last night, 11ish. But, I couldn't sleep. Once again, the "battlefield of my mind" was engaged. Negative thoughts, sad thoughts, questions and no answers to go along with them--I was a mess. Eventually I did fall asleep, but woke up again around 3:30. I decided to turn on TV. Insomniacs and people who's jobs may have them up in the wee hours of the morning know what's on TV at this time--nothing except garbage and infomercials, which are actually one and the same. So, I turn off the TV and get back into the battle.


Around 5:00, I woke up again. Now this is not real early by the standard of some people, but it is for me--about an hour or 2 before I normally get up. Once again, the battle in my mind is raging. I start praying, "Lord, help me with these thoughts". I toss and turn for a while and decide to try the distraction of the television again. As I'm channel surfing, I see a television evangelist--an Asian guy, but I can't remember his name. Then I remember that Joyce Meyer is usually on around this time and it ends up that the next channel I land on is Enjoying Everyday Life--Joyce Meyer. I start watching, but the show is almost over. As she ends the show, she asks us to listen to the wife of the owner of the St. Louis Rams who's name I do not remember, but the subject rang loud and clear--Joyce's book, The Battlefield of the Mind. Wow!

My mind left the battle on the field and started listening intently. Funny thing is, I have the book but I don't think I've ever read it. Duh. After the little promo for the book, Joyce comes back on and says she's going to pray for anyone that might be going through such a battle at this moment. Yay! Joyce Meyer is going to pray for me, Sharon Hutchens, just when I needed it most. The gist of the prayer--God loves me and he knows what's best for me and I should not worry about those things that take over my mind and deprive me of sleep and the peace that He has promised me. I knew that, but this morning I had to be reminded. And I'm sure I will have to be reminded again--probably tonight. ; )


What I really loved about this God moment, is when after hearing Joyce's prayer, my mind went immediately to what had happened earlier in the evening. I was over at Matt and Ashli's house watching the twins for a couple of hours while they were out. We put a movie in, Horton Hears A Who, but Payton wasn't interested in the movie. He wanted Bah Bah to tell him Jesus stories. Talk about a thrill--being asked by a 4 yr. old to talk about Jesus. Because of this Easter season, I started with the crucifiction. Payton butted in, he knew about bad people putting nails in Jesus' hands. So I began to tell him about Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt. He stopped me again, "Grandma, you already told me this one". I'm like, "when?" Payton says, "Remember, you told me at the pizza place". Yes, I remembered--it was about a year ago, he would have been barely 3 yrs. old at the time. Then I began to tell him about the miracles that Jesus performed and Payton was suddenly reminded of a book in his room with a story in it about Jesus putting "mud on a guy's eyes so he could see". The book was A Child's First Bible that I had given them when they were about two. We read the whole book.

I know, this was a long story, but I had to write it down. It was all about love--God's love for me, my love of God and me loving my grandchildren and sharing the fact that God loves them too.

Wow God!

This morning, as every morning, I woke up to the music of K-Love. It's "Wow God Wednesday"--every Wednesday people call in and tell their stories about something that God did in their lives that would cause you to think or even say aloud, "Wow, God".
I laid there in bed thinking about the first time (and there have been many now) that I have actually said, "Wow, God".

It was 2 years ago this Christmas season--Dec. 2008. Chuck had passed away in March of that year. His death really caused me to question my belief in God. I couldn't understand why God would want to take such an awesome man from this earth--away from me and his girls and his grandchilren that he loved dearly. We had been through so much in our 40 years together and had just recently found a church home at
Woods Chapel United Methodist Church. I had never been a part of a church family--had never really even been a believer. But Chuck was--and he helped get me there. And then God took him away. Not fair, right?

Well, on one particular evening in December of that year, I was one of about 7 or 8 people (Santa's elves) that were to deliver Christmas gifts to families. We met up at WCC, picked up Santa and headed out with bags of gifts, Santa hats and bells. We delivered to a family over on Paseo first. It was nice--the children enjoyed Santa and we took pictures and then headed on to the next location over on Independence Ave. As we drove, Missy tells me that the place we're looking for doesn't really look like a house--it looks like a business. This reminds me of the time that Chuck drove me by the place he lived as a young boy with his mom and 2 brothers on Independence Avenue. They lived in an apartment above a business--a grocery store I think, and he used to always talk about how poor they were and that the only pets he ever had were cockroaches.

So, as we get closer to our next delivery location, I realize we are in that same area. I started getting a weird feeling inside. Suddenly Missy says, "Here! This is it." I'm speechless now--freaking out actually. It was the building that Chuck and his family lived in--I was sure of it. We turned onto a little side street and then parked in the back. Now I'm not speechless anymore and I'm going on and on to Missy and anyone that will listen that I KNOW this is where Chuck lived as a boy in the 1950s. We walk up a flight of stairs on the back to the apartment. I'm in some what of a shock at this point--taking in every inch of that place imagining my husband as a small boy and the Christmas' that he had there. This was a single mom and she had 3 children--one of them was a boy. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. At one point, I took the mom aside and asked if there was an elementary school at the end of the side street we had driven down. She said "yes". I knew I was right. I got so choked up. What an amazing thing this was for me. And it got better.

After leaving everyone at the church that night, and driving home alone in my car listening to the haunting song, Christmas Canon by the Trans-siberian Orchestra, I couldn't stop crying. I felt sad, I felt wonderful, I felt scared, I felt blessed. In my mind I kept wondering, "Is this some sign from God? Some gift for me to help me get over the loss? And at that moment--that very moment, the bells on the passenger seat rolled over just enough to jingle. I lost it. I could barely see the road through my tears. I got my answer. It was wonderful.

Merry Christmas!!