Vicki’s Story by Paula Kemp
Vickie
How I met Vickie was really one of those Jabez moments. Vickie called my office regarding a claim she needed to file. Her voice sounded like she was from the Lafayette area, which in itself makes her instantly special. I have always found the people from that region to be very loving and gracious individuals. During our conversation, her voice grew soft as she told me that she was battling breast cancer.
I asked Vickie where she was receiving treatment. In her soft Cajun accent she relied, “ I go tomorrow to M. D. Anderson.” I told her that my husband’s parents had both received treatment there and they are cancer survivors for several years. I asked her if she would be staying at the Jesse Jones Rotary House Hotel, which is attached to the hospital. She replied, “Yes.” I described the interior was more like a luxury hotel with beautiful paintings and extremely nice restaurants. I gave her words of encouragement that this was the best place in the world for her.
I asked Vickie if she had ever heard of the book The Prayer of Jabez by Bruce Wilkinson. She told me that she loved it and had given it as gifts. I told her to take the book with her and look at it like she was on a mission from God to bring light into a place of darkness. I emailed her a short story that I had written about Garth, my father-in-law, and his stay at M. D. Anderson.
After I hung up, I began calling florists in Houston and asking if they had “Victory” roses. No one had them, so I found a florist that had beautiful roses in pots. They offered to arrange them in a basket. I had them sent to her hotel, so they would be there when she arrived to her room. On the card I wrote, “Let these roses represent your “Victory!” You be His light in this place of darkness!”
I also mailed Vickie a daily devotional book God Calling by Two Listeners. Several months later, she told me that she felt that Jesus was personally speaking to her each day through the book and helping her through her arduous journey.
Vickie then sent me the book, The Praying Woman. I truly love it and learn something new each time I pick it up, much like the scriptures.
Over the course of the last 5 months, we have become friends through phone calls and the mail. We have never personally met. This week she had her friend email me that she just received news that she had 3 small tumors on the left side of her brain and Vickie wanted me to call her at M. D. Anderson. During our conversation, she requested that I send out a prayer request for her, which I gladly did. As Christians, she and I both believe in the power of prayer.
I spoke with her later that night, I told her, “I feel the Lord leading me to give you these scriptures.”
Genesis 26:24 – Do not be afraid for I am with you.
Palm 56:3 When I am afraid I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise. In God I trust, I will not be afraid.
Isaiah. 44:2 This is what the Lord says – he who made you, who formed you in the womb and who will help you. Do not be afraid.
After I read the scriptures, Vickie told me that when she was first diagnosed with breast cancer she was so afraid and a song came on the radio and they were singing, “Don’t be afraid”, which gave her peace. She said, “I take those scriptures as a confirmation.” Her doctor came in the room and Vickie said: “Please call me tonight, you bring me peace and comfort.” That night I gave her this scripture.
Psalms 116
I love the Lord, for he heard my voice: he heard my cry for mercy. Because he turned his ear to me, I will call on him as long as I live.
The cords of death entangled me, the anguish of the grave came upon me; I was overcome by trouble and sorrow. Then I called on the name of the Lord. “O Lord, save me!”
The Lord is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion. The Lord protects the simple-hearted; when I was in great need, he saved me.
Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the Lord, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling, that I may walk before the Lord in the land of the living. I believed, therefore, I said, “I am greatly afflicted.” And in my dismay I said, “All men are liars.”
How can I repay the Lord for all his goodness to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord in the presence of all his people.
Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints. O Lord, truly I am your servant; I am your servant, the son of your maidservant; you have freed me from my chains.
I will sacrifice a thank offering to you and call on the name of the Lord. I will fulfill my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people, in the courts of the house of the Lord in your midst, O Jerusalem.
A few days later, I emotionally pleaded in prayer for the Lord to give me another scripture for Vickie that would bring her peace and comfort in His word. After my heartfelt prayer I then randomly opened my Bible and to my amazement, the first scripture I saw was 1 Chronicles 4:10. This was the first scripture that Vickie and I ever discussed, the Prayer of Jabez. It was just one simple scripture out of a sea of scriptures. That day the Father brought me peace and comfort and I knew that the crossing of our paths was no coincidence.
You never know when a moment and a few sincere words can have an impact on a life. Zig Zigler
It was never my words, but the Fathers words that made the impact on her life.
Paula Kemp
Bossier City, LA
Add comment July 14, 2008
Mary’s Story
Some years ago, I was working for an inner city nonprofit. We had a free clinic, which I managed, as well as social services, a food bank, a clothes closet, and most importantly, we had a hot lunch at noon. As most people working in the nonprofit sector know, our resources vary depending on the generosity of the people who support us. One day, when the director of the agency was away speaking to a civic group, the cook came to tell me there was nothing in the cupboard but a couple loaves of bread and some peanut butter. She asked me what she should do since we usually fed 50-80 people each day. There would not only be no hot meal, but we didn’t even have enough for peanut butter sandwiches for everyone. The cook and I decided to pray right on the spot. We reminded the Lord about his miracle of the loaves and fishes, and asked that however He chose to act, that He would make sure the people who came to us would go away satisfied. Before we could even open a peanut butter jar, there was a knock on the door, and a group of people stood outside. They had pans and pans of lasagne left over from a church supper the night before, and wanted to know if we could use it. Could we use it!!!! We shared with them their part in the answered prayer, and we all had our faith built that day! No, we didn’t usually get gifts like that, and I just can’t believe it was merely a coincidence. I believe God heard and answered our prayer, knowing our need even before we asked.
Add comment July 14, 2008
Cheryl’s Summer Story
My Summer Story
As some of you may know, my summer started in Iraq. I’ve been deployed for over two months now and miss my family and friends terribly. This time away has given me the opportunity to focus on His Word.
I decided at the beginning of this deployment I would devote my time away from family to learn more about Christ. I’ve been attending weekly women’s bible study and Friday night fellowship. I’ve even had the opportunity to watch two Ugandan’s accept Jesus as the Savior and be baptized.
During our fellowship we watch a movie that centers on learning the Word. Last night we finished watching Peter and Paul. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I’m actually in the desert or if I just feel Jesus around me but I cried as the last image faded on the screen. The image was of Paul hanging on a cross upside down and his last words were “I am not worthy to die like my savior” or words close to that effect.
Our weekly Woman’s bible study has had a dramatic effect on my faith. God gave me the honor of meeting Rita. Rita has to be one of God’s angels right here on earth. She is truly an inspiration to anyone who meets her. I told her of my passion when it comes to singing. I wanted to join the praise team but like so many others, I was afraid I wouldn’t be good enough for God. One night while watching the others practice, she came and grab my hand and said “God doesn’t mind imperfection” and I haven’t missed one praise practice or Sunday worship since.
Lastly, I wanted to share the picture below. It represents our team over here before “The 4th of July 4-Miler”. God was there because he helped push me plenty of times during those 34 minutes. God Bless and can’t wait to be home!!
1 comment July 14, 2008
Living Life Backwards: Deb’s Story
I have lived my life backwards. I am dyslexic.
I was a blue baby. I was my Mother’s fourth child of five. My Mother was a Godly woman. She had learned to rely on God the hard way; He had sustained her through the physical, sexual, and emotional abuse of an alcoholic father. A drunken doctor and a sensitivity to medications resulted in Mother going into cardiac arrest in the moments before I was born. During the time I was without oxygen, the damage was done. My mother began the long journey of praying for me.
I was small and extremely shy, very different from my sisters. When I began first grade, Mother’s prayers intensified. My sisters could all read and write before this age. The teacher told her not to worry, I was just too shy to read aloud. My mother prayed.
As second grade began, God’s plan unfolded. My teacher was working on her master’s degree in what is now called learning disabilities. On the first day in her classroom I was unable to write my address. I drew an owl, a pine tree, and a hill with the number “41” to represent 41 Alpine Hills. This caring teacher saw through my tears and attempts to hide the fact that I could not read. She spoke with my mother and suggested testing. My Mother asked how much it would cost. With the addition of a fourth daughter, the family budget did not allow for such things. The teacher said it would be free of charge; she would take me with her to her professors who had agreed to test me. Their report was not good news. It included phrases like “she is sweet, but she will never graduate from high school,” “ she will never read,” and “she has something called dyslexia.” My Mother prayed.
The following summer the teacher asked if she could be allowed to tutor me free of charge as part of her work for her master’s degree. There was no set method for teaching a dyslexic person to read and no guarantee for results. My Mother watched closely during each session. The teacher tutored my Mother in how to help me. My Mother prayed for wisdom.
As the summer ended, my Mother continued the sessions. Every afternoon while neighborhood children, cousins, and sisters ran through the house, my Mom and I would go into the living room to read. Writing this brings back the thrill of being allowed that special time of just the two of us sitting in the sparking clean room reserved for company and special occasions. We would spend an hour reading. We took turns choosing what to read. I began to know my Mother through the books she chose. Books about far away places, and the people of distant lands. Books about great Christian women who had survived obstacles by their faith and prayer were poured over, our heads almost touching as I struggled to make sense of words.
The reading sessions continued until I was in the eighth grade. I could read. Reading, something that is often taken for granted, was a treasure to me. Mother did not stop praying. She prayed that I would graduate from high school. She prayed me through college. And on the day I walked across the stage the recipient of n a bachelor’s degree and on the President’s List, she did the only prideful thing I had ever known her to do: she sent a copy of the announcement to the teacher and to the professor who had said I would never read.
I did not know that I was dyslexic all those years. I knew I was different, but I thought it was because I was special. I got to spend alone time with my Mother. I got to go to my teacher’s home and drink orange juice for the first time. I got to build a relationship with a woman not just as my Mother but as a sister in Christ. She died on her 52nd birthday. Those hours spent together are a great treasure in my life.
Mother told me the story of my birth as I waited for the birth of my son. For years, I thought she told me out of fear my child would be a blue baby. As I have matured, I think I have figured it out. My Mother was concerned about the well being of my child, physically and spiritually. She was ending the lesson on how to pray for your child. I had seen the story in process as she prayed me through the struggles of overcoming dyslexia. Now I was to live the lesson of the story by faithfully praying for my own children.
I have been asked many times what it was like growing up backwards. I believe for me, not knowing that I was dyslexic was an advantage. If I had realized that I had an excuse for failure, I might have used that excuse to fail. Instead I was taught that I could accomplish anything with God’s strength.
My personality has been influenced by not knowing that I had a learning disability. I knew in my heart that I was different. While this did at times lead to self-doubt and self-esteem difficulties, it gave me a unique perspective on life. I look at things differently from anyone else. The expression about thinking outside of the box does not apply to me. I do not even have a box. Living through God’s miracle in my life grew an abundance of faith. It gave me the ability to allow God to work in miraculous ways through me.
God has used being dyslexic to mold me into a vessel to be used by Him. He called me into ministry, first the ministry of being a fulltime mother, then into ministering to women. He led me to seminary in 1998, my first time to enter an educational institution knowing that I was dyslexic. On the application, there is a question asking if the student has any disabilities that would require assistance. I honestly answered the question in the negative. During my last class I realized how much harder I had had to work. The classmates were discussing how long it had taken them to complete the required reading. I was shocked. Where it had taken them hours, it had required days of reading for me.
God had kept this knowledge from me. If I had realized this difference earlier I would have felt that completing seminary was impossible. Discovering how God had sheltered me, opened my eyes to how extensively involved He is in my life and what amazing things He will do. God knows me so well that He knew I would have given up. Instead of failure, I was the first to graduate from New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary with a Masters specializing in Women’s Ministry. Now, I am within months of completing a doctorate degree!
Add comment May 21, 2008
What’s Your Story?
What’s Your Story? Everybody has a story. My story has twists and turns; high points and low points, and things I wish weren’t there. But it’s my story.
What’s Your Story? has been my tag line for 8 years. I began asking the question as I traveled across the US and Canada as part of the contract work I do. The stories I have heard have been amazing. I have been amazed by the honesty of story tellers and the eagerness to share their stories with a stranger. As stories have been shared with me, I have shared my story. My life has been changed by simply asking: What’s Your Story?
I believe stories help us heal, grow, and become a better person. Stories encourage, inspire, and change lives. This blog is about stories. The stories found in this blog are about real people, women who are connected with First Baptist Bossier in Bossier City, LA. The stories are written in their own words.
Stories will be added often, so check back with us. Please feel free to comment on any story!
A disclaimer: This blog is a collection of personal stories. Some are anonymous; all are very personal. The opinions expressed are the express opinions of the storytellers and therefore do not necessarily express the opinion of any organization or church. These stories are not edited or previously read or approved by any such church or organization.
What’s Your Story?
Add comment May 21, 2008
