Memorial Day

© 2013 Gary Coots Photography

It was Memorial Day weekend, and I was at church. The pastor invited us to pay homage to those who have given their lives in the fight to protect our freedom. I struggled to think of someone close to me, connected to me in some way, who had died while serving our country in a time of war.

Then it hit me: My sister's father lost his life in the latter years of World War II. William L. Barnett, Jr.—Bill—was born on November 9, 1915, the only son of a humble north Texas couple. I don't know much about him, but at least one surviving veteran remembers him as a good man who was kind and respectful, loved by those above and below him in rank. On June 17, 1944, after 12 days of battle, the jeep he was in drove over a land mine in Velletri, Italy, and he died at the age of 28.

My sister was only one year old when she lost her dad. She never knew him. He left behind his baby daughter, a grief-stricken widow—our mom—and a sorrowful mother and father who became childless. Over the years, his parents passed away and his widow remarried. Life went on, and Bill became a distant memory.

I thought of Bill only as my sister's late dad until last weekend. For the first time in my life, I imagined his life, his youth, and his sacrifice. With his death came the end of many future stories, many dearly held plans and dreams.

Had it not been for Bill's death, I would never have lived. And had it not been for his service to our country and the service of many others, I would not be free today. Thank you, God, for the life and sacrifice of Bill Barnett.

From Self-Made to Spirit-Led: My Journey out of Workaholism

For as long as I can remember, I have been a highly motivated individual. In first grade, I fell in love with letters, words, and books, but I also discovered that I craved approval. I quickly learned how to get it from my teachers, and I had the cleverness to excel in school while appearing humble.

My first grade teacher told my mother, “That little girl is going to be a journalist!” However, I don’t remember my mother sharing that with me until well into my adulthood. By the time I reached seventh grade, my English teachers were encouraging me to write and submit stories and poems for publication. But because my family valued money and worldly success more than creativity, I learned to focus on measurable achievement. I worked hard at whatever was put before me, often earning straight A’s, getting plenty of attention, and in later years, raises and promotions.

Looking back, I can see that I sought to fulfill the American Dream by becoming a self-made woman. I put aside the talents God had given me because I felt they were marginally valued, but I lived in frustration. I sought opportunities to volunteer my writing and editing abilities, although as a young mother I had little time to offer.

I always found favor easily with those in authority. God continued giving me enough humility and respect for others to win favor among my peers, but in some cases, I found myself playing the role of the proverbial teacher’s pet, giving rise to jealousy among coworkers.

© Gary Coots Photography

The day finally came when I faced my first full-blown rival, and I learned the meaning of the word “defenseless.” My obsessive search for approval was continually unsatisfied, and I became physically ill from the daily stress. One of my dearest colleagues had the wisdom to point out that I was involved in a spiritual battle, and another found scripture references to bolster my courage. Only then did I realize that although I could “get by” in the world by following my humanistic tendencies, the path would lead to constant craving and heartbreaking conflict.

In the mid-90s I finally landed my first paid editorial job, and I enjoyed a successful career as a writer and editor that culminated a decade or so later in a very lucrative and challenging professional position. As others around me lost their jobs and the economy tanked, I recognized the security I had. However, I was once again in a spiritual struggle, complete with physical and psychological symptoms. After some soul-searching and counseling, I decided to give up the job I had worked so hard to get. This self-made woman didn’t like what she had made of her life.

The Lord blessed me with enough freelance work to keep me afloat financially, and I determined to trust Him to show me the next step. And the next. . . and the next. At one time I had prayed, “Lord, please give me a job that pays well and isn’t 40 miles from my house.” Now, I hold in my heart the promise of Isaiah 64:8: "Yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand." Beautiful words!

No longer must I strive and work for the approval of men and women. I may lapse into old behaviors, but I'm learning the ways of freedom day by day. And no longer will I turn a blind eye to who is truly at work. Finally I fully understand that "Unless the LORD builds the house, its builders labor in vain." (Psalm 127:1)

Greater Vision

© 2011 Gary Coots Photography

I love my friends and the way they share my joys and my sorrows! Lately I've been telling everyone about losing my eyeglasses and how God works with life's details to teach us and take care of us. 

Most will agree that nothing is quite as frustrating as a lost article, and I seem to have many. I admit that we have free will to create such circumstances, but why does God allow these situations, and how does He work through them? In late spring, I lost my healthcare spending account (HSA) debit card. There were many times I could have used it for deductibles, co-pays, etc. I looked for it a few times to no avail. Invariably, I found myself at another doctor or dentist, wondering what happened to it. As the year began drawing to a close, I became concerned about the balance on the card and what forms I would have to fill out and file to use it up.

Then on Halloween, my daughter became gravely ill and needed emergency surgery. I flew out to California and stayed in a hotel room for a few nights. I was proud of myself for not losing anything, and as I checked out on the last day, I remembered to check my eyeglass case. It was empty. I even recalled where I had last seen the glasses, and I searched the room for some time trying to find them. I finally gave up, thinking they might be in the car. I checked with the front desk repeatedly to see if anyone turned them in. No luck.

When I got back home, I checked to see if I could simply reorder the same glasses. I was told that the prescription expired. "The Lord means for me to go to the eye doctor," I thought one morning. I also thought that I would like to try a new eye doctor.

One of the girls at work is new in town, and she began asking around for eye doctor recommendations. She was desperate for some new contacts. "This is no coincidence," I thought. When another coworker said her uncle was a great optometrist with a practice just down the street, I hopped on it. I called and got an appointment the very next day. That night, I picked up an obscure wallet that I never use, and there was my HSA card!


When the lab assistant did that annoying air-puff-in-the-eye test, she seemed a little too enthusiastic about it. I had to have four puffs in each eye! Then the doctor informed me that the pressure in my eye was very high and that I am at risk for glaucoma. "I'm a glaucoma specialist," he said. That was no coincidence!


I will be having more tests and don't know what the future holds. However, I do know that God wanted me to go to that doctor so my illness could be revealed. I avoid annual visits to the optometrist, so there's no telling how long I would have been like that—years, most likely, with possible damage to my optic nerve! But the best part so far is that I will have some classy new glasses, I'm getting checked out, and my unspent HSA paid for the whole thing.

Now I can say, "Thank God for lost articles!"

Are You Crying Out?

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© 2011 Gary Coots Photography

“This time, I’m really going to take this weight off!” I declared to myself and whoever else might have been listening. Armed with what I thought was extensive knowledge about nutrition, I planned my menus around a healthy model that stresses lean meats, veggies and fruit, and whole grains.

This regimen went just great for about 10 days. Then things began happening. I ran out of supplies and didn’t have time to go to the grocery store. I walked by the snack table at work and decided a cheese Danish was better than that piece of fruit. Somebody said “Mexican food.” We went to dinner at a friend’s house and I didn’t want to seem fussy. My husband said, “Want a burger?” I got some bad news and needed some chocolate. You name it.

Before a month was up, I had broken all the rules I had planned with such resolve. Then, Are you crying out? said the voice in my head. This question had been posed in the Gateway Equip class, “Losing Weight the Jabez Way,” and it suddenly came back to me. Rummaging through my notes, I found more choice wisdom: Whenever we determine to be strong, it moves us further from God.

That’s just what I had been doing: determining to be strong! That’s a familiar behavior for me. From the time I was a child, I believed in the adage, “You can do anything if you put your mind to it.” So what was wrong with me? I had wanted to be thin for as long as I could remember, but … I wasn’t thin. And I hadn’t been thin in a very long time.

My thoughts went back to Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 12:9: And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

What a sweet thought that is, the power of Christ resting upon me. After all that striving, rest was exactly what I needed, and that’s what He gave me. I could rest in my weakness and let Him be strong. I could cry out to Him for help, and he would hear my plea.

When I came out on the other side of this experience, I was able to view my weight problem from a different angle. Take your everyday, ordinary life and place it before God as an offering, my notes read. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for Him. How profound and lovely is that? Now I can practice surrender each morning, following the lead of my Savior and resting in His strength. And when I feel my weakest, that’s when I cry out.

RJJ meets JR and JRJ

Rae Jean (left) and me before Pink Impact 2012

My girlfriend, Rae Jean Johnson, visits Gateway Church's North Richland Hills campus regularly with me and my husband, Gary. She's very fun and outgoing. The three of us went to Pastor Zach Neese's CD release party in mid-September. After saving our seats, Rae Jean and I headed for Grounded, the coffee bar. As we were ordering, she asked the young man at the cash register, "What's your name?"

"J.R.," he said.

"Well, I'm R.J.!" she replied.

As we waited for our drinks, an attractive redhead caught my attention. She had on a black headband, and her hair was backcombed at the crown for an edgy look that accented her pretty features. I approached her and said, "I like your hair."

"Thank you," she said. "I'm a hairdresser." We chatted about back-combing, her salon, and things in general.

Finally, right on cue, Rae Jean said, "What's your name?"

"Jeanna," said the redhead (it sounded like "Gina"). "Actually, it's Jeanna Rae."

"Oh! I'm Rae Jean," said my pal. We all had a great laugh. "Give me one of your cards, and maybe I'll come see you."

"I have one at my seat," said Jeanna. "I'll give you one when we get back inside."

In the auditorium, I looked down the row and saw Jeanna, so I went over to get a business card. Was I ever surprised when I looked at it and saw that her last name is Johnson! "God has a sense of humor," I told Rae Jean when I got back to my seat. "Rae Jean Johnson, meet Jeanna Rae Johnson."

Living in the Moment

Photo by Gary Coots ©2011

My company closed shop yesterday and went to Prayer Mountain. When I mentioned this to my life group, one of the members asked, "is it really on a mountain?" Thinking back to standing atop that hill, I realized that it's the closest thing we have to a mountain in north central Texas. The weather was even Colorado-like until late afternoon, when the breath of summer heat arrived. One of my favorite moments was when I stopped to watch a huge yellow butterfly dancing among the low-hanging tree branches. The terrain was dotted with solitary prayers in various attitudes, facing the stunning view of Mountain Creek Lake. (I often think of my coworkers as "people I love.") There they were, speaking to God from their hearts, savoring the time alone with Him. I was living in the moment.

My mind goes back to another experience I had earlier in the week. My friends and I lead some nursing home residents in a round of hymns each Monday morning. There I learned that no one lives in the moment quite like an elderly disabled (and often demented) person. Going from bed to wheelchair, at the mercy of whoever is around to help, she lives each moment as it comes. As we were leaving, I reached to touch a wheelchair-bound woman's hand. She grasped my hand, held it to her face, and said, "You're so warm!" Her hands and face were very cool. As we lingered, I realized that for her, only that moment mattered, and it was a good moment.

The Struggle for Freedom

The apostle Paul's words ring so true when I think about the sin nature that exists in all of us. It's just there. We criticize it in others in moments when we think we are doing okay; we feel remorse when we have times of just wanting to do better, planning to do better . . . and then realizing it's not within our power. "The trouble is with me," writes Paul, "for I am all too human, a slave to sin." 

What does that mean? It means that as humans, we are born into slavery. We don't consciously acknowledge it until we are caught in a dark and confining place, not knowing how we got there but recalling bad decisions we have made.

My first encounter with such a decision (and its consequences) was when I took a piece of candy from a dime store without paying for it. Yes, I was soon in a very dark place. I could have been Judas. I was compelled to confess to my parents, who had the wisdom to take me back to the dime store to confess to them and pay for what I stole.

In many cases, we get to that dark place after a series of bad decisions. In others, it results from one really big, bad decision that impacts not only our lives, but the lives of others, often for years. If we could look into the future, we might see that the impact goes on for generations!

Looking back at those decisions, we see the truth in Paul's words: "I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do what I hate." And again: "I want to do what is good, but I don’t. I don’t want to do what is wrong, but I do it anyway." And once more: "I have discovered this principle of life—that when I want to do what is right, I inevitably do what is wrong."

Photo by Gary Coots ©2011

How perplexing to live in this state! As humans endowed with free will, we feel we are in control, yet the bondage-to-sin dilemma calls us to admit that we are imprisoned, longing for freedom. Some of us respond to this incarceration by turning up the pride. We sin loudly and proudly, as if it was our right to be and do that which offends.

Yes, sin has a hold on all of us. It is our master as long as we succumb to it and give it the power it demands. Then the sin nature takes over our thoughts and actions. I have learned that sin gains power when kept in darkness. When we hold on to it in that dark place so no one will know, it grows insidiously, taking root in our psyche. As Paul concludes, "So I am not the one doing wrong; it is sin living in me that does it . . . And I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature." You know, it's the-devil-made-me-do-it" syndrome. "I want to do what is right, but I can’t. But if I do what I don’t want to do, I am not really the one doing wrong; it is sin living in me that does it," offers the wise apostle.

Nothing examines the battle between the flesh and the spirit—and the one who rescues our souls from it—like Paul's agonized cry in Romans 7. As a follower of Jesus Christ, he longs for righteousness. "I love God’s law with all my heart," he says. "But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me. Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death? Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord."

I look around and within to observe myself, my family, and my friends, all subject to the power of sin in our lives. We all struggle with one or more behaviors, weaknesses, or inclinations that rule our days and nights, often defeating us in the daily battle. These sins limit us from the fullness of life that God intends for us. It might be an irresistible attraction to pornography, an inability to control spending, a philandering tendency that takes hold and won't let go. Maybe it is a physical addiction to something chemical or behavioral, a compulsion to take things that don't belong to us, a loose tongue that slanders others and betrays a long-time friendship. Sometimes it's anger and defensiveness that comes from a heart turned inward, hardened by things others have done to us. Or the cumbersome sin of omission, that nagging feeling that we could have spoken or taken action, but didn't.

The answer is indeed in Jesus Christ. How wonderful that our Lord and Savior delivers us from all of this, redeeming us from a life of error. All we need to do is call on Him. He not only cancels our sin if we confess and ask for forgiveness, but He also heals us and teaches us to forgive ourselves and others.

All Bible references are from Romans 7:7-25 , the New Living Translation