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Written by: Holly Schmidt  "You have not been given a spirit of Fear..."Several weeks passed from the night the tornado lifted over our house at the name of Jesus. Tom and I were in a spiritual boot camp of preparation in learning to trust God. Another storm hit Georgia. This time 25 inches of snow trapped me in the mountains of North Georgia at a retreat center with my very southern 'church lady friends'.
Brand new pregnant with my second child, it was time to deal with this overwhelming fear that controlled much of my thinking. Throughout my pregnancy, I was going to learn that God did not give me a spirit of fear but rather peace, love, and a sound mind. He was going to deal with fear in my life in three specific areas: boogeyman fear or being scared of the dark; fear for my developing child; and fear that I would misrepresent Him.
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Written by: Holly Schmidt  The sound was horrifying. I had heard that tornadoes sounded like a train as they approached their target. It is true. This swarming mass of wind coming at our French Door windows really did sound as if a train, multiple trains, were hurling at a mammoth rate of speed towards our house. The sky had turned an eerily blue, like how the lights of a police car light up the night sky as they flash that turquoise light at you when you are supposed to pull over.
That same type of adrenaline that rushes through your body when seeing headlights of an emergency vehicle behind you on a dark country road flooded through my body. The tree, 25 feet from where I was standing, bent over to the ground. Written by: Tom Schmidt  I found myself in a place I had never voluntarily been before. Unemployed. I was discouraged and stressed. I could not even afford the COBRA insurance policy from my former employer.
I was a young married man with a son recently diagnosed with hemi-paresis cerebral palsy and no health insurance, no job and no real savings. I held onto the One thing I did have- HOPE. Hope in a God who is much bigger than all my problems then and now. During prayer after Tommy was diagnosed, we had felt reassurance that God would take care of Tommy and his needs. I was doing odd jobs for friends, painting houses and catering when possible. I went to a “headhunter” on the advice of a friend from First United Methodist Church. We met, I filled out information and the waiting began. Written by: Holly Schmidt  Standing close to front of the sanctuary, my heart raced. It felt as if it was going to thump right out of my chest. I had been listening to story after story of missionaries sharing the hope of Jesus with others. They spoke of incredible hardships and sacrifices. Yet woven in between each testimony, a glimmer of hope sprung up.
I couldn't escape this internal shaking. My mind racing. I wanted to go. And then the theme song of the missions conference started up again. The chorus of music burrowed deeply within my spirit. I knew. I knew in the very depth of my being that God was calling me to go. Every part of my mind, my body, my spirit was touched. No escaping this draw. This pull to go. To be sent. To tell of the good news of Jesus Christ. Here I am! Send me. We had only been married a few years. A rough start brought us together. Drinking buddies. We met and started dating when Tom was still married to the older woman with her kid closer to his age then she was. An open marriage. Yet, deep inside I still knew it was wrong. It would be several years and quite a bit of hardship for this rocky beginning to work itself in our lives so we could move forward. |
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