2010

Today is the final day of the year 2010. A day to look backward and forward. What did 2010 hold? And what will 2011 contain?

Thus far I am ending my year in airports. (And let me just tell you as I sit in Kansas City that it is the oddest airport I’ve ever been in. I’m not the only one who exited the gate area and realized I was back in the general airport. So, back through security I went.) I’m sorry to leave my family and the holiday back in Indiana, but I’m tired, feel like I’ve gained about 20 pounds and am ready to get back on schedule – even in Texas.

For me, 2010 has contained much more than I ever imagined it would. Surprises have abounded, and I’m not talking about a new car or anything like that. The changes that have been most amazing are ones I couldn’t conjure up in a million years. They are things God has done in me. Wonderful, loving and sometimes difficult. But all of them in the hands of my loving heavenly Father who knows the desires of my heart even better than I do.

So I sit here awaiting my plane (and watching all the unique people one can find in an airport), I do wonder what 2011 will hold. What will God do with the changes He has wrought in my heart? I’m not placing any bets on anything. Nor do I want to. I’d rather see what God does. It may be hard – very hard. And it may be wonderful – very wonderful. Most likely, it will be a mixture of both.

But this I know. Whatever happens….wherever I go…whoever crosses my path…my God does not change. He does all things well. Of me He requires one thing: “Trust Me.”

A blessed 2011 to you all!!!

Christmas in Indiana

A white Christmas!!!!

Rosie - the Purdue Boilermaker dog.

Sally and Dad, waiting to open one present Christmas Eve.


Abby getting out the meat and cheese for the Christmas Eve meal.

Me and my "baby" brother Caleb.

Jenny and Grace opening presents Christmas morning.

Mom - go Tennessee Volunteers!

Christmas Memories

It is Christmas Eve…and so tomorrow is Christmas Day. And I am ensconced in my purple bedroom in Indiana, surrounded by over a thousand books, Beauty and the Beast pictures, and a world white with snow – and more on the way!!! Just what Christmas should be…only different.

For my closet isn’t full of clothes. It’s my suitcase that is. Not all my books are on my shelves here, but there are a hundred more back in Texas. My desk is empty of stacks – those are back in Texas, too. And I have three large Tupperware containers stacked in my bedroom. In those belong my Christmas decorations, which will come down before I leave next week.

Christmas is a time full of memories. This began on the very Christmas, the day Christ was born, angels came from heaven to give Him glory, and shepherds left their sheep to worship Him in a humble stable. Mary “kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart” (Luke 2:19). And I’m sure she never forgot them as long as she lived.

When I was a little girl, we did all kinds of things at Christmas. My sister Katey and I marked up the Sears catalog with initials so large you couldn’t see the pictures. We made long lists to hand to Santa. We decorated Christmas cookies, enjoyed the new (usually matching) dresses Mom made for us, and we stayed up as long as we could on Christmas Eve in hopes to hear the reindeer on the roof. Christmas was spent with family: grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. Sometimes this meant an all-night drive to Texas. Other times it meant an afternoon at Grandma Ogilvie’s. Each place held different traditions, distinct and special. Grandma Ogilvie would play the piano, and we got to hand out the gifts, and we’d run down to the basement to play when the house grew too warm. In Texas, we camped out on the living room floor, and Grandma had funny Polish/German traditions like pickled herring, and I had to be very careful about the cookies I selected from the cookie tier: Sandies and Mexican Wedding Cake cookies look very similar and the latter are DISGUSTING!

These traditions were always special, but they changed when we headed to New England. We didn’t go back to Tennessee for four years. And Texas? We didn’t make it back for eight years and only because we moved there. By then, I wasn’t a little girl with cute dresses and hair ribbons anymore. I was a teenager. A lot of Christmas traditions changed as I did. No more reindeer on the roof, the Sears catalog had shrunk in half, and younger cousins handed out the gifts. But my family made traditions of their own: a one day shopping venture we all piled into the van for, putting up our tree the day Navy plays Army, waking up at dawn Christmas day, having different people over who needed a family to Christmas with. All of them as special as the ones they replaced.

And now I’m not an awkward teenager shifting between childhood and the long years of adulthood. Tomorrow will be my 31^st Christmas. I’m a full-fledged adult (even when I don’t feel like it) with a job, a place to live, bills to pay, and a home I fly to when the holidays come around. And with those changes come more changes in tradition. I hung my ornaments on the tree yesterday, remembering each one as a special gift from someone I love. I had to do my Christmas shopping alone and in spurts as I found the time. Does Sears even put out a catalog? And there is no new Christmas dress. Yet some traditions never change:

There are puzzles laid out to be done. Today Abby, Mom and I will cook sausage balls, the breakfast casserole, and Jesus’ birthday cake (while the others are at work). Tonight we will have the traditional Christmas Eve meal passed down from the Sturm family: cold cuts, cheeses, pickles, crackers – enough “snack” foods to feed an army. And we’ll open one gift. Tomorrow we will awake with the crack of dawn (and snow!), our stockings will be full of good things, the tree will be lit, and gifts will be handed out and unwrapped until you can’t see the gifts through the mounds of paper and boxes. We’ll eat a huge meal, play games, lay around, wear new clothes. But most of all, we’ll enjoy being together – a blessing from the One who was born to bring peace on earth, good will to men.

Grady longs to belong. To know who he is. To feel he does something important. But on the road with a traveling show, his life is one change after another. An orphan, he doesn't know who he is or where he came from. And, worse, when his show falls from popularity he must face the fact that he isn't who he always thought himself to be. Or is he?

Grady's act as a feechie (a mysterious wild man from the swamps) needs reviving. And what better way to do that than scare the countryside with moans in the night, flint arrows, and wild cries? It doesn't take long to cause a frenzy...and maybe more.

If you're looking for a good story from a great storyteller, don't miss Jonathan Rogers's newest adventures of Corenwald, civilizers, feechies and his newest beloved character Grady.

http://waterbrookmultnomah.com/catalog.php?isbn=9780307458223

This book was provided for review by Multnomah Publishers.

For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace... 1 Corinthians 14:33

I was reading a book a few weeks ago that reminded me of this great truth. And gave me great comfort. For what I had going on my life seemed confusing, but I didn't feel confused. In fact, I was at perfect peace. A confirmation to me that everything going on was in the hands of my loving Heavenly Father.

But this weekend was another matter. I could say, well, I'm a bit sick. For the first time in I don't know how many years, I have a real all-out cold. Sore throat, sinus congestion, sneezing, blowing of the nose - and lots of washing my hands. A friend and I had a disagreement this week that wasn't very pleasant, so I had that on my mind. And something I really wanted didn't happen. It shouldn't have mattered but stretched out on the couch in front of a roaring fire with It's a Wonderful Life playing on the television, it did matter. So I woke up Sunday morning a bit frustrated and cranky. I don't think God appreciated what I had to say that morning. For that matter, I didn't appreciate it. Off to church I went in a foul mood, half-heartedly praying for a "word in season".

Then the pastor rose to the pulpit, told us to turn to Galatians 4 and announced the title of his sermon: "God's Perfect Timing". I could have closed my Bible and gone home right then with a soaring heart, humbled that God answered my half-hearted prayer for a Word.

Laying on the couch in front of yet another fire that afternoon, I realized what I had done that weekend. I had taken my eyes off my God. Off the One who gives me my blessings. Off the One who loves me more than anyone ever will. And once I did that, I lost my center. I started looking at myself, my failings, what had not happened...and stumbled into a state of confusion. A place where God is not. And so no hope dwells. It's a miserable place.

I prayed this weekend that the Lord would give me a prayer for the week. And now I have it: that my focus will remain on my God. Exactly where it belongs.

The Joy of Children

Children are one of God’s greatest blessings to us, as I have been reminded this week. Just last night, I held a tiny baby in my arms – only just over five pounds. Our social worker had her baby last week on December 7. I brought a meal to her and her husband after work yesterday. And you can’t do that and not hold the baby. Ruby Danger is the little one’s name. (Don’t ask about the middle name…) She’s tiny and adorable with a little nose, and little fingers, and little ears, and dark eyes. Beautiful! And I hope to see her lots more since Jane, her mother, is going crazy being stuck in a house and she doesn’t live very far from me. Great excuse, huh?

The after the Christmas cantata at church on Sunday, we had a fellowship of snacks and cookies. After putting food on my plate, I decided to join 5-year-old Andrew who was already snacking away on pizza and clementines.

Pizza, of course, brought up the subject of Chuck-E-Cheeses. He informed me when he grew up he was going to take his younger brother John (who is 3) to Chuck-E-Cheeses. “It’s a lot of fun,” he said, “but they have yucky pizza. Do you think this pizza is from Ci-cis? They have good pizza. I don’t know. I can’t read the box. I’m just learning to read.”

I told him I hadn’t read the box either so I didn’t know, but I asked him if the pizza was good anyhow.

“Yes. We get out of school for Christmas. Do your children?”

“I don’t have any children, but I get off for Christmas, too,” I replied, probably just as excited as he is at the prospect.

This led to a discussion on what he studies in school. Then he fell quiet as he worked the peel off his second clementine. I don’t think he cared for the silence (for knowing his family there probably isn’t much silence in his house), so he turned to the guy next to him and said, “You two can talk now.”

We didn’t have half as many interesting things to talk about as pizza or school, and Andrew soon had more to say. I felt like I was being drilled. What is your favorite food? What is your favorite drink? Would I like to come to his house? When was my birthday? Where was I born? How far is that from Texas? And when he didn’t have anything else to say about the newest Shrek movie, he said, “You can ask me questions now.”

So I did. I asked him about his favorite food, and drink, and color, and birthday. He told me he wished he could have fun birthdays like his older siblings Calvin and Kate. (Mmh…that refrain sounds familiar…) But when I asked him what kind of birthday he wanted, he just shrugged and said, “Oh, one with cake and ice cream.”

Then we got talking about our wiis and the miis we had created. He said his had a red shirt, and brown eyes, and brown hair. “He used to have a mustache, but Kate messed with him.”

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“Andrew.”

“Oh. You named him after yourself.”

“Mama said we had to so she would know what we’re doing.”

Wise mother. Of course, my mii is not named after myself. The one in Texas is named Kaylee.

“Is your name Kaylee?” he asked.

“No. It’s Melissa.”

He seemed to think about this for a moment and then nodded. “Miss Melissa.”

It’s been a while since I’ve been called that! It was wonderfully old and familiar.

I got a break when he went to get dessert. That totaled up to six chocolate cookies.

“Andrew, you won’t eat all that,” the pastor’s wife said.

“Sure I will,” he replied.

“Can I have one?” the guy next to him asked.

“No.”

But when that guy left to get his own dessert, he offered me two. Selective sharing.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a conversation with a 5-year-old. And how much I miss it! For all the world seems right when you see it through the eyes of a child. No problems, no questions to answer, no future to figure out. And isn’t that the way it should be? As the old saying goes, “God is on His throne. All is well with the world.”

19 years ago we got an early Christmas present...


Happy Birthday, Jenny!

Delight thyself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:4

If any of you have known me for any period of time and I have dropped you a note in the mail, you know I sign my name with this verse. I can’t remember when I selected this particular verse. I know I was in my teens. Lots of people I know had verses to sign with their names. “I need one of those, too,” I thought – completely forgetting that if-every-one-else-jumps-off-a-cliff-would-you? And as I was romantic as any teenage girl, I thought this would be the ideal verse. Some sort of guarantee of a bright and glorious future beyond my wildest dreams.

Well, I have to say that my future since then has been bright, glorious, and beyond my wildest dreams. It’s also contained the hardest trials, deepest scars and greatest challenges. But as I’m sure you know – and as the Lord taught me – there are two essential truths to this verse:

1. You must delight yourself in the Lord. (Not friends, sports, fun or – my greatest weakness – books.)
2. He will give you the desires of your heart. Not you will receive every desire your deceitful little heart can wish upon, but the desires of your heart will become what He wants for you.

It’s not a very difficult confession to sit here and tell all of you that I have not kept this verse extremely well over the past fifteen or sixteen years. I have not always delighted myself in the Lord. And I have begged (pleaded, cried, sobbed, shouted, etc.) my own desires until I’m hoarse. And every time the Lord has taught me one thing: “Trust me, Melissa. My way is best. My desires for you are far beyond those wildest dreams. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

And I have. It hasn’t always been easy. In fact, I once felt as if I was walking through hell itself. But it was necessary. For even now, I am beholding the fruit of that “valley of the shadow of death”.

What I find most amazing about this verse right now is that it works in reverse. As my life unfolds in different ways, I find God knows my desires better than I know them myself. He fulfills longings I had no idea were there. And as He does so, I delight myself in Him even more.

Truly, my God is amazing.

This week somebody told me of a guy who journaled every time he cut his nails. Now sometimes I am hard up for something to journal/blog about; but I hope I never have to reach that low.

Lately life has been very busy. The holidays, I suppose, but there are many other things going on as well. I was thinking and praying on my way to work this morning, and God was reminding me yet again that while my life continues to change He never does. Then another thought hit me.

"God, if You're sovereign - and I know You are - and if You knew me and the plans You have for me before I was even born - and I believe You do - then not only are You unchanging, but Your plans for me are also unchanging. They change from my point of view, but they don't from Yours. What is to be will be. And I have to trust the One who loves me more than anyone else ever will."

It was a staggering thought, and it still is. But that still, quiet voice has echoed in my head all day long:

"Trust Me, Melissa. Everything will be okay."

And the week comes to an end...

By the time Friday comes along, I usually am ready for the week to be over and the weekend to begin. Friday evenings typically consist of collapsing on the couch with something to eat and a good movie to watch. (I suppose I can agree with all the nurses in the office that claim I have no social life...) But this Friday, I am especially tired. I don't know why. I slept well last night, turning out the lights at 9:30. My week hasn't been overly stressful (okay, so I did loose it one morning - much to my boss's surprise - but I get a little tired of fixing everyone's fiascoes), and I did just have a long vacation. But maybe I just have way too much on my mind.

Truly, it's been one of those weeks when even problems (like three-ring-circus patient admissions) are annoying but not really upsetting. Even with lots to think about as late, nothing is really bothering me. I feel God has been blessing me - and I also feel like I wish He had just left me where I was. But God doesn't do that. He likes to take a person (me) who thought she had a nice, pleasant, calm life and throw a wrench in it. It hasn't stopped nice, pleasant or calm; but it has certainly given me new angles I never considered - at least, not really considered.

But thankfully God hasn't left me to figure out the random thoughts that skip through my head (or make their way across like an out-of-control freight train). My Bible readings have been full of Truth - some forgotten, some new. Most of them center around one thing: God's sovereign plan for my life.

I marveled at Revelation 13:8b, "...everyone whose name has not been written before the foundation of the world in the book of life of the Lamb who was slain." Which means that before God even created the world, He put my name - Melissa Michele Sturm - in His book of life. And that is a staggering thought.

Or Romans 8:38-39, "I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." For me this week, that meant that even my life itself cannot take me from my God - and nor should I let it.

But my favorite (the one I posted on my work computer) is Habakkuk 2:3b, "...If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay."

All the wonderful plans God has for my life will come. Not one of them will fall through the cracks. I won't truly miss out on a second of it. I just have to wait. And trust.