Tag: christianity

Posted in church

Would You Choose To Live?

Posted on by imtaylorwalker

There’s a particular question weighing on my heart this Easter, so I’d like to ask you…

Would you choose to live?

Let’s pretend that before you were born, you were given a “preview” of what was in store. After this preview, you could choose if you’d like to live the life shown.

You would see all of the beautiful things life offered. Maybe that includes a spouse, some children, a nice home, a steady job, a community of friends, some dreamy vacations… Anything you’d consider good. Encouraging stuff, right?

Then the bad starts to play. You see all of the loss, hardships, and instability scattered in. They seem immeasurable and so unfair. Worst of all, you learn that your final moments are a far cry from peaceful. Your death will be excruciating, at best. It’s one you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. Yikes…

What would you do? On one hand, you’re overwhelmed with all of the joy and blessings awaiting. On the other, you can’t imagine facing such an agonizing death. No one could blame you if you decided it wasn’t worth it.

I think about this question a lot for my mom. I often wonder if she would have chosen YES to her life knowing how it would end. She died with her body smashed and broken and bleeding. She took her last breath confused and alone, with no loved one nearby to hold her hand. While I’ve visually seen the damage and reports, I’ll never truly know the amount of pain she felt or the final thoughts she had. What I do know is that it was a death that would make me question everything. Did she question it too?

You may be wondering what the point of this question is. Why torture ourselves with hypotheticals and “what if” scenarios? After all, none of us are given a preview. The saying holds weight… “We play the hand we’re dealt.”

But here’s the thing.

Someone WAS given a preview. He knew exactly the life he would live, down to the very second. He knew every good his life would hold. The friendships, the healings, the miracles, and the eternal impact. But he also knew the bad. The betrayals, the brutality, the cross, and the grave. And guess what? He still chose YES.

Wrap your mind around that for a second. Jesus knew it all before it even happened. Imagine getting a preview like Matthew 27 and still choosing YES…

“What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” Pilate asked. They all answered, “Crucify him!” “Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate. But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!” When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!” All the people answered, “His blood is on us and on our children!” Then he released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified. Then the governor’s soldiers took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers around him. They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head. They put a staff in his right hand. Then they knelt in front of him and mocked him. “Hail, king of the Jews!” they said. They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.

I don’t know about you, but I would have taken one glance at that passage and eagerly declined. Flogging? Mockery? Thorns beaten into your skull? Nailed to a cross? That price is too steap for me. Who would willingly choose a life that would end in such a way?

Jesus. That’s who.

Jesus chose that for me. And He chose that for you. He looked at His impending crucifixion and decided our sinful souls were worth it all. You and I were worth the blood. You and I were worth the beatings. You and I were worth the cross.

What love to choose YES.

Now… While we didn’t get a preview of the life we’re currently living, we do get a preview of the eternal life that’s waiting. And good news! This time, we have a choice. John 3:16 proclaims,

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

Easter can quickly become all about the baskets, egg hunts, and family gatherings. For many, it’s just another church box to check off for the year. But my prayer for you, friend, is that you take some time to really dwell on the YES your Savior chose for you. And may you choose to say YES right back to Him.

Posted in August 6

The Price You Pay For Answers.

Posted on by imtaylorwalker

I’ve always had a habit of getting invested in the most irrelevant things. Once my curiosity is peaked, you can bet I’ll be doing an internet deep dive for all the details. My husband used to joke with me and say, “Okay, Google…” anytime he knew he was about to get me started on something.

My brain does something like this…

“Holy cow, why are cashews so expensive?” *Googling…* “So that’s where cashews come from? Wait, what’s cashew apple? Why have I never seen a cashew apple at a store?” *Googling…*

Yes, I’m insane. I recognize this. But seriously, if you didn’t just stop to google a cashew apple, WHO are you? And HOW are you just content with not knowing something? I need to know your secrets.

Usually, this characteristic is completely harmless. Knowing random information about cashews never hurt anyone. In fact, I’m counting on this to help me win at trivia night one day. But there’s a reason for the saying, “Curiosity killed the cat.” Sometimes, the information isn’t what you expect. Sometimes, you see things you may be better off turning a blind eye to. Sometimes, you cause more harm than good.

But that’s just the price you pay for answers.

**If you haven’t read my post, The Call, pause and do that now. It’s good context.**

Caught up? Okay, on we go.

When Riley spoke on the phone with Dr. Nelson, she told him the wreck was an accident. There had been a terrible rain storm, and the other driver hydroplaned, resulting in a head-on collision. At this point, no information was disclosed about this driver. I didn’t know who it was, if they were dead, alive, in jail, in a coma… nothing.

One of the first questions I asked Dr. Nelson at the hospital – “Is the driver alive?” I had to know. I thought I was prepared for the answer. I thought I knew what she’d say. Because how could anyone walk away from a wreck like this? There’s no way, right? Wrong.

“The driver was a young man. He’s completely fine. He sustained no injuries.”

She went on to say that it was just a terrible accident due to the weather. Nothing could have prevented it. And she wanted to believe that Mom and Bruce did not suffer.

At that moment, I didn’t have the capacity to really stop and think about all she said. My brain was just trying to keep up. So much was happening.

On the way home, I received a phone call from the local sheriff. He asked me if I had spoken with anyone else regarding the wreck. I told him what little information I collected at the hospital, but that was all I knew. He informed me of the driver’s name – Nicholas Sponholz – and the charges they gave him. And that’s when it happened. The curiosity peaked.

It’s almost funny to look back now. Had my curiosity not gotten the best of me, I would have believed the wreck was just a freak accident. I would have clung to the words of Dr. Nelson, thinking Mom never suffered. I would have lived the rest of my life in ignorant bliss. Sounds kind of nice. But that’s not how this story played out. Because once I started digging, I couldn’t stop.

The short version is this…

The wreck was not just a freak accident. It could have been prevented with a touch of common sense and courtesy. Nicholas was accelarating… in a monsoon… 65 in a 55… passing a vehicle that was probably just being mindful and cautious of the rain. His speed caused him to hydroplane from his lane, over a grassy median, into a street sign, across another lane, and into Bruce’s car. Bruce took the direct hit and died on impact. Mom survived an hour, confused and in pain, before she died.

What that story doesn’t tell is the fight it took to get these answers. The lawyers. The bills. The phone calls. The EMS reports. The medical examiner body diagrams. The witness statements. The expert opinions. The depositions. The disappointments.

For over a year, my brother and I clawed our way to the truth. We wanted answers. We wanted an apology. We wanted justice. I’m not sure we ever fully got any of those things. Just limited answers, half-truths, and no apology.

Was it worth it? I’m not sure, really. I guess that depends on how you look at it.

So many people told us to move on – Mom wouldn’t want this for us. Those words fell on deaf ears. Our minds had already been made up. We needed this guy to take some responsibility and own up to his carelessness. Our criminal system is weak, at best, and it was failing us tremendously. This felt like our only shot to hold him accountable. But, in order to do this, we had to pay a steep price.

We had to read and see, in grueling detail, the final moments of our mom’s life. What she felt… how her body responded… what she looked like. We had to sit in depositions, answering 100’s of questions from a lawyer that did his best to minimize the value of Mom’s life. We had to listen to Nicholas push aside every. single. question. about that day with a ridiculous, repetitive response of “I don’t recall.” These are all things we’ll never be able to unsee or unhear.

But would I do it all again? You bet.

She was my mother. She was worth the fight. She always will be.

We didn’t get everything we’d hoped for. Of course, Mom would’ve had to walk through the doors for that to happen. Even in the disappointment, I cling to the hope that our fight will be the very thing that prevents this from happening again.

Throughout this journey, there was a particular verse I repeated over and over (and over) again. I wrote it on note cards and mirrors, highlighted it in my Bible, and even sang it in a catchy tune to make sure I always remembered.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.

Psalm 46:1

On the days I felt I was drowning, I clung to these words. God was my refuge when I was consumed with anxiety. He was my strength when I was too weak to move forward. He never wavered, even when I did. He was my constant. My calm.

The good news – He still is. Our God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. No matter the valley you find yourself in, you can always cling to that truth, friend. I know this because I’ve witnessed it. And you will too.

Posted in church

The Turning Point.

Posted on by imtaylorwalker

Have you ever read Lamentations? No, I don’t just mean 3:22-23. I mean in its entirety. Don’t get me wrong, those verses offer a wonderful reminder – His mercies are new every morning. Praise the Lord for that! But, what about the rest of the book?

To lament means “to express grief or sorrow; to mourn.” That’s exactly what the book of Lamentations is… grief, sorrow, and mourning. In fact, Lamentations 1:1-3:20 is utterly d-e-p-r-e-s-s-i-n-g. The author describes destruction, starvation, wickedness, and death… yikes. It’s not a book people often turn to when looking for joy-filled encouragement. But maybe we should. Because Lamentations offers something beautiful to believers. It offers a turning point.

Riley and I were not faithfully attending a church when Mom died. Since the beginning of our marriage, we were your typical “church-hoppers”. We never stayed at one church for too long. We had a bad habit of missing a handful of Sundays and were too embarrassed to go back. We didn’t want the guilt-trip of explaining where we’d been. The answer was never justifiable. So, instead of facing our faults, we just… hopped.

By the time we had Ellie, we pretty much gave up on going completely. I was a clingy, anxious, breastfeeding mom who refused to go near a church nursery. We did try a couple services with Ellie on my lap, but it was a trainwreck. No more than 5 minutes in, I’d be off to a bathroom stall trying to nurse her to sleep… which didn’t work. So up and down the halls I’d go, not catching a single word of the sermon. It was terrible. After that, we just avoided the church subject altogether. **Not-So-Fun Fact: One of the last things I ever got to say to Mom was a lie. She asked if we had made it to church that morning. I was too embarrassed to admit we hadn’t been going, so I lied. Sorry about that, Mama. Guess you know now.**

It was an awful feeling, really. Because we knew better. We were both saved at a young age. We had grown up in good churches. Basically all of our family faithfully attended. But we had fallen into the dangerous trap of complacency. We had convinced ourselves that if we just cut the Sunday livestream on in the background, we could check off our “church box” and carry on with life. Boy, were we wrong.

Fast-forward to Mom’s funeral. Dr. Corts said something during the sermon that hit me like a ton of bricks.

She was strikingly grateful and thankful for the salvation He had won for her on the cross. She was saved from her sin and given a new life. But what was so distinctive about her was that she NEVER got over it. It was almost as if she couldn’t believe it. Which I think is always a sign of a genuine follower of Jesus.

There it was… The truth I had so desperately been hiding from. I had lost my gratitude. I had overlooked His sacrifice. I had gotten over Jesus. What was I doing?

Back to Lamentations for a minute. In the first two and a half chapters, we see how God’s people are paying the price for their sin. The author outlines the absolute state of darkness they were facing. But then, there’s a turning point. Lamentations 3:19-24 says,

Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. The Lord is my portion, says my soul, therefore I will hope in him.

In those few verses, everything changes. The trajectory shifts. Darkness is met with light… with HOPE.

The wreck was our turning point. It’s when our life of darkness turned to a life of hope. When Mom died, heaven became overwhelmingly real. I don’t know if anyone can relate, but heaven kind of felt more like a fantasy before. It’s not that I thought it was fake. I guess I just struggled to fully understand the reality of it. But once I knew Mom had entered those pearly gates, everything changed. It’s as if I could see her worshipping at the feet of Jesus. I could hear her singing “Holy! Holy! Holy! To the Lord God Almighty!” I could envision her whole and perfect and pain-free, no longer burdened by this world.

This realization brought us running back to the place we should have been all along… We had missed out on YEARS of spiritual growth and opportunity to serve. There was no more time to waste. I’m not saying church will save you. I’m just saying it’s where you’ll want to be if you are.

Church is prickly. It steps on your toes. It holds you accountable. A lot of people don’t like that. I sure didn’t for all of those years. But, let me offer you the piece of the puzzle I was missing… Church restores my HOPE. It puts God’s goodness on full display. It offers growth. It reminds us why life matters and what we must do with the time we’ve been given.

Maybe you’ve drifted. Maybe you’re running from the truth. Maybe you’ve become complacent and do just enough to check a box. It’s time to face the truth. Let this be your turning point.

Find a church. Call it home. Show up faithfully. Serve your community. Be a light. And never get over Jesus.