Winners, Unanswered Prayers, One Way News and More SGM Christmas Extravaganza Coming Soon!

WWY Remembering at Christmas Ornament Winners Announced here. Congrats to the winners!

And, now the winner of the Reunion Necklace:

heathermohr from In this Storm

And....

The Winner of the Reunion Key Ring:

The Blue Sparrow

Please email me your address and I will get those right out to you this week!
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In other news, I have been doing some thinking about unanswered prayers....or prayers answered differently than we expected. About life's disappointments and all of the goodbyes along the way.

These verses from Habakuk 3 mean so much to me as I reflect on the days in the past I spent waiting on the Lord...and some of the prayers of my heart currently awaiting answers.

Though the fig tree may not blossom,

Nor fruit be on the vines;
Though the labor of the olive may fail,
And the fields yield no food;
Though the flock may be cut off from the fold,
And there be no herd in the stalls—


Yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
I will joy in the God of my salvation.
The LORD God is my strength;
He will make my feet like deer’s feet,
And He will make me walk on my high hills.

I think of the years I saw little fruit in my marriage...the years we spent unequally yoked...the years I spent claiming these promises, allowing them to wash over me. What was the promise? Did I know all those years ago that one day I would stand on a stage beside my husband and join my voice with his in worship to our Savior? Did I know that when I sat alone in the church pew?

No....I didn't.
The fig trees did not blossom and there appeared to be no fruit on our vines in the early years of our marriage as we muddled through the best we could. Trusting in what we couldn't see, clinging to Him despite what we saw with our human eyes.

Did I know when I stood over the grave of my daughters on that cold November morning that one day their lives would be used to offer comfort and hope to hundreds....and soon thousands of families? Did I know that their lives would serve to create a tenderness in our hearts...that they would be part of the beautiful tapestry of this family...a piece of the puzzle that both shattered us, left us broken, and yet was essential to our healing all at the same time?

Did I know when I heard the words incompatible with life in regards to our Thomas on that rainy day? Did I know when we lept off the cliff in the fog and carried our sweet boy, praying for a miracle while planning a funeral? Did I know that His sufficient grace was carrying me those days, weeks, and months... and that He was waiting to fill me with the sweetest joy and comfort in what should have been the darkest moment of my life?

No...I didn't.

The fields yielded no food...the sheep were cut off from the fold...and there was no herd in the stall.

But the prayer of my heart remained...

Yet I will rejoice in the LORD,

I will joy in the God of my salvation.
The LORD God is my strength;
He will make my feet like deer’s feet,
And He will make me walk on my high hills.

There were disappointments... incredible losses...prayers that weren't answered the way I hoped. And, there still are some...in this life. But, looking back on those days...seeing what I couldn't see then. Knowing the faithfulness of my God...sometimes, it's good to look back and see what He has brought us through...to see how what once seemed hopeless has blossomed into hope...what once was a pile of ashes has turned to beauty.

If you are still in that place...still waiting for an answer or trying to make sense of an answer you never wanted...keep clinging...keep trusting in Him. Keep trusting...even when you don't see. For, He is good...even when life is bad. He is faithful...even when we are faithless. He has a plan and purpose...even when we don't understand. He is working long after we have given up.

When all you see is emptiness...

When it seems all hope is gone...

When you stand in front of the ruins broken and weary...

Remember this promise from Joel 2...

Fear not, O land;

Be glad and rejoice,
For the LORD has done marvelous things!
Do not be afraid, you beasts of the field;
For the open pastures are springing up,


And the tree bears its fruit;
The fig tree and the vine yield their strength.
Be glad then, you children of Zion,
And rejoice in the LORD your God;


For He has given you the former rain faithfully,
And He will cause the rain to come down for you—
The former rain,
And the latter rain in the first month.


The threshing floors shall be full of wheat,
And the vats shall overflow with new wine and oil.
“ So I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten,
The crawling locust,
The consuming locust,
And the chewing locust,
My great army which I sent among you.

You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied,
And praise the name of the LORD your God,
Who has dealt wondrously with you;
And My people shall never be put to shame.


Then you shall know that I am in the midst of Israel:


I am the LORD your God
And there is no other.
My people shall never be put to shame.


Keep waiting and trusting for His restoration...for He sees all that has been stolen, all the years the locusts have eaten...He will restore them...and His restoration is a beautiful thing to behold.

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Speaking of restoration, our band, One Way, had the opportunity to share worship music and our family/ministry testimony last Sunday at Holgate United Methodist Church. Thank you so much for your prayers. The day was a blessing, and we were so grateful for the kindness and welcoming spirit offered to us by Pastor Susan and the congregation.

No matter how we struggle through our days, how Satan attacks with doubt, how the locusts seem to feast on our lives, and even when the fig tree doesn't bloom....

God is faithful to meet us there...and to carry us through...and to restore all that is broken.

Tim and I singing Days of Elijah...

Sharing our family and SGM testimony...

I didn't know this sign was up there until I saw theses pics! Holgate UM made it, and I noticed they mentioned our church home. I probably would have said we were there to represent Sufficient Grace... although we are proud to say we are from Harvest...so  hopefully our church doesn't mind claiming us! =)

God's grace and faithfulness bring me to my knees. Our boys sat in the audience, as we worshipped together. And, I closed my eyes, remembering that once fruitless tree...now blossoming and growing in abundance. Sweet grace...washing over me...

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P.S. Tune in tomorrow for the BIGGEST giveaway in Sufficient Grace history!!! This is the finale of the SGM Christmas Extravaganza 2010...and it is going to be so much fun!!! It will include several of my favorite things! I hope you will join us.

Where We Come From...and Who We Are

Saturday, our Contemporary Praise and Worship band, One Way, played at the Liberty Center Fall Festival. I awoke early in the morning tossing and turning. Many times before I stand before a crowd to speak or sing, I am plagued with a spiritual battle that leaves my stomach in knots. I do all that I can, praying through it...meditating on scripture. But, often the struggle is strong. It sounds so easy to lay it all at the feet of Jesus. Sometimes, it isn't so simple.

This time, the battle was personal. It was more than just getting up in front of people to sing about Jesus. That, as my husband says, is a privilege that we should feel honored to do...not overwhelmed by the thought. Our goal is simply to bring glory to Him. He is so right, and there are times when it is a "taking every thought captive" exercise for me to cling to that truth and resist the temptation to let my emotions get the better of me.

As we drove the once familiar path to the home town of my parents, the current home of my grandparents, and several aunts and uncles the September winds were suddenly thick with smothering memories from my childhood. It is an amazing thing how a place can hold such history that it almost feels as if the place itself has a life of it's own...so many stories to tell.

We drove over the narrow bridge that I've never been fond of. I closed my eyes and I was seven years old, riding in my dad's red Mazda, eating McDonald's chicken nuggets with hot mustard sauce, dreading the narrow bridge that took us to Grandma's house. I loved visiting my Grandma, but the bridge was a different story.

I suddenly realized that going to sing in the town where my mother and father grew up may hold more emotional obstacles than my typical pre-show stomach ache. I doubled over and tried to shake the emotion. I rarely travel that way, and going back reminds me of so many childhood moments...the missing of those who are no longer here washes over me with such intensity. We drove past the house where my paternal grandparents once lived across from the Dairy Queen. I used to love their french fries. Yes, I know that Dairy Queen is known for ice cream, but I only seem to remember the fries. (Have I mentioned that I've never met a carbohydrate I didn't like?) I also remember my Grandma Wanda's love for vibrant purple and her lilac lipstick.

We stopped beside the semi-trailer that would serve as our make-shift stage, preparing to unload our plethora of gear and instruments, and I looked up at the orange and white water tower behind us. My breath caught in my throat, and I was again a little girl, holding my maternal Grandmother's hand as we entered the grocery store. My eyes followed the path down Main Street, to the beautiful display prepared by my childhood babysitter, who now redecorates furniture (and does an amazing job I might add). I realized that this day, there would be no hiding from the memories of the September winds.



My mother walked these sidewalks before me, and for the rest of that day, I would represent her to the people of this town who remember her shining face. She would be carried with me, and they would be looking for a reflection of her as they looked into my eyes. I would not be the person I am today...the person who I am most days as I go about life: Kelly Gerken...wife to Tim, mother to Timothy, Faith, Grace, Thomas, and James, founder of Sufficient Grace Ministries, educational para to special needs children. No...that day, I would be Pat and Kathy's daughter. My father lives in another state, and has since I was about eight or ten. My mother passed away in 2006, and prior to her death, I spent a great deal of my life exerting my stubborn independence from her. (However, I did learn to treasure and appreciate her before she died.) All that to say, I haven't spent much time identifying myself in those terms. But in this quaint small town, much like the one where I grew up, and still reside...I would be known as Pat and Kathy's daughter.

My father's best friend, and the best man in my parent's wedding walked by as we unloaded our gear. I smiled and said "hello", realizing that the memories would be all around as the day wore on. I shook the hand of the sweet lady who invited us to perform at the event, and as I introduced myself, she said, "I would know you anywhere." I nodded again. When I went over to talk to my childhood babysitter, she introduced me to the man beside her, and he said, "You look a lot like your mother." It went on as the day continued. Several others saying..."You're Pat's daughter...or You're Kathy's daughter aren't you? Does your dad still have that curly hair? Boy your mom was quite a wonderful lady." It's funny, growing up, people always said I looked like my dad. But, since mom passed, everyone says I look like her. I see it too, when I look in the mirror. I wonder sometimes if we don't all just miss her so much that we want to catch a glimpse of her any way we can. I don't really mind being that glimpse. It's an honor, but it does stir the emotions already brewing this time of year.

I thought about that for the rest of the day...how it matters where we come from. All of our experiences make up the person we are, whether we understand how it works or not. It may be more of a small town thing. I'm not really sure. Other than visiting, I don't really have any big city experience. I've always lived in a small town, and my parents came from (a different, but much the same kind of) small town. And, in a small town, it matters where you came from, and who you "belong to". In a small town, those details somewhat define who you are.

Prior to stepping on to the stage, I was wondering how I would "put on Christ" and shake the emotions squeezing my heart. Tim knew, and gently reminded me that we were here to serve the Lord. I nodded, more full of feelings than I wanted to be. I blinked back a few tears and turned to an older gentleman with a ball cap and an almost toothless grin waving me to come over. I stepped away from the stage and walked over to him. He asked what kind of music we played and shared that he played the banjo and several other instruments, including a harmonica, which he promptly removed from his pocket and began to play for me. In the middle of Main Street. Surrounded by the Festival passerby. I did what anyone else would do. I smiled and clapped along, tapping my feet to the beat as he played proudly.

Then...he began to yodel.

You heard me.

He yodelled right there on Main Street...in the midst of the festival, and I forgot for a few minutes all the history surrounding me. I forgot everything but the sweet man, yodelling a song for me in the middle of Main Street and the God of my heart who sent him there to let me know that He always knows exactly what I need. I wasn't sure how I would muster the courage to take that stage, with all of those emotions. God knew what I needed. And, he sent a harmonica-playing yodeller to do the job.

He told me his name and shook my hand, then wrapped his arms around me in a big hug. And off he went.

We went "backstage" and Dave led us in prayer. Then we climbed the steps and just as it usually happens when I opened my mouth to sing, the peace of the Holy Spirit washed over me. For the next 52 minutes, the only thing that mattered was being a vessel of praise for Him. The only thing that mattered was singing the name of Jesus in the town of my parents. The only thing that mattered was the smile on the faces of the children dancing joyfully in front of our "stage" and my maternal grandparents sitting by James and smiling as we played/sang. For the next 52 minutes He lifted me, as He is always faithful to do. And, I was free. I was Kelly Gerken, daughter of the King, put here to serve Him, and bring Him glory. And that was all that mattered.








My harmonica-playing, yodelling friend even came back and played his harmonica in the crowd during our performance, tapping his feet and smiling with his eyes. I smiled back, wondering about our encounter.


(Thanks, Glenn and Toni for taking this pic!)

Later, I asked several people if they knew who he was. Everyone knows everyone in a small town.

No one knew him, or where he came from...but he was there. And, he blessed and encouraged me in a way that I didn't even know I needed. Interesting, don't you think?

Goodbye Summer...It's Been a Great Ride

School is underway, which also means that I am back to work. Adjusting to a new schedule and routine is not one of my strengths, I'll admit. While I most certainly enjoy and appreciate my job working with special needs students at the elementary school, it is hard to let go of the sweet freedom and light-hearted fun of summer. My boys are also lovers of the good times of summer, which leaves the three of us in serious "transition mode". No more afternoon naps, impromptu swims at Grandmas, running barefoot with the neighbor boy (James...not me!), late morning snacks, reading on a blanket in the yard after an afternoon bike ride to the library....sigh. It's so hard to say good-bye to three months of Saturdays and the sweetness of summer. Until next year...that is.

So...please bear with me, if it seems like I'm slacking a little right now. A couple more balls have been thrown into our juggling act, and it may take us a little bit to get our balance and rhythm!

Since I'm kind of missing summer, it seems a few summer-reminiscent pictures are in order!

James did an awesome job on his first canoe trip...





The Tims...who definitely had the upper hand in our splash fight!





My friend, Tracy and I in front of The Gerken "Cozy Cabin"...




James with Tracy's son Aidan thoroughly enjoying the bunk bed...


Not pictured is the infamous go-kart wreck between both Tims and James. They were laughing so hard in the pics, but they are dark and somewhat blurry. So I wasn't able to share them here. It was such a great time of refreshment and fun for our family, though. Much needed!

A taste of my favorite place...




When I step on to the golf course, I feel the peace and serenity wash over me. The beauty never fails to catch my breath as I stand atop the hill and behold the shades of green, inhaling the fresh air, feeling the breeze caress my cheek...inviting me to stay awhile. I am captivated by the pristine surroundings...drawn in to drink of the splendor as I leave behind the cares of this world for just a little while.

Golf isn't over, of course...even though the lazy pace of summer has passed for another year. Many afternoons, you can find me here, cheering on the golf team and soaking in the serenity of my favorite place. I am enjoying watching Timothy as high school golf season is well on its way...


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We ended the summer with a performance by our band, One Way, at the Corn City Festival last weekend. Unfortunately, it rained...and rained...and rained some more. Other than a few die hard fans (consisting of mostly family and a few good friends...as well as some passerby who huddled under tents and shelter houses to listen...) our crowd was pretty small. We still had a really great time, and it seemed to be a blessing to those who did brave the conditions to come out. I really love the boys from One Way (especially the guitar player...He's pretty cute!), and I'm so grateful for all the time they put into preparing for our little performances. It's such a blessing, and also a lot of fun to serve the Lord with these dear friends.

Singing in the rain...





I wish I had some pictures to share of James with his friend, Clayton. They didn't let the rain slow them down a bit. They took off their shoes and rode the blow up rides, running barefoot in the rain and sliding gleefully down the slides as if they were the only children at a water park! Never mind if it rains on your parade...just let the rain become part of the celebration! They certainly did... =)

O.K....that's enough summer memories for now...sniff. Just wanted to leave you with a reminder that we are still featuring blogs and stories of grieving moms on Walking With You each Monday. Please take some time on Mondays to encourage and pray for these families. (The post is usually up by late in the day Monday...you know...I'm juggling!)