Why I Don't Mind "Ellen."

My parents were unaware of what the name Ellen meant when they named me. You see, they named all my brothers and sisters after family members or Saints of the Catholic Church. Well, there is no family member named Ellen. ("Ellen" is not exactly an Italian name). And can you believe that there is not one Saint in all of the Catholic Church named Ellen! So, you can see why when I grew up I wanted to know the meaning of my name and why I hoped it to be something special.

I remember when I was eleven years old my family and I were vacationing in Orlando. We walked into a Floridian souvenir shop. I searched every little key chain, kitchen magnet etc. trying to find my name with the meaning on it. Nothing, but then I came across my name on a coffee mug. It was a white mug with violet writing. It said, " ELLEN...means light." I have got to say I wasn't too impressed. "Light."-how was that something to hold on to?

While standing there holding the mug and rather disappointed, my mother came over to me to see what I had chosen to buy -I showed her the mug. She said, "Wow." Then preceded to tell me a story.

"After giving birth to you," she said, "I was very sick. I had had a physical collapse. I was sent away for three months to heal and rest, but before I left you I prayed to God." "God, " she said,  "This is your child now-I have to leave her to you."  She told me that after the three month respite she was afraid to come home to a three month old baby. She confessed that she still felt weak and wasn't exactly sure if she was up to taking care of me. She thought about the crying and work it required to take care of a new baby,  but then she said, "You were not at all what I had imagined. I would lay in bed with you and you would look at me and smile. Your smile brought me peace." She said that others would try and take me from her so she could rest, but she wouldn't let them. she loved just being with me. I made her happy. I was her light.

With a contentment in my heart I chose that mug as my souvenir.  What eleven year old buys a mug?  Me, that's who. I really cherished it-my sisters made fun of me, but that was okay because they just didn't understand. I kind of wish I still had it. It had chipped somehow and then like all cherished mugs it became a pen holder on my desk. I guess I don't really need it cause I know who I am now.

Years later when I was in college, walking closer with the Lord than I ever had, I was a pretty happy person.  One day as I was coming into my parents house and at the same time my father was coming in too, but he came through the side door. We met up in the kitchen. He was miserable -I was happy. He looked at me and said, "You are always so happy" and then smiled. Before I knew what he was doing he made me get down on one knee.  He got out the closest thing he had to a sword, a long, knife sharpener thingy, and "dubbed" me his "sunshine" his "light."  My father was not a man of many words, let alone kind ones. It meant a great deal to me. 

So, "Ellen" isn't so bad-it means light and truly, if I can be a light to this world then I've actually lived up to my name.

My Name is Ellie.

Hi, my name is Ellie. No, it's not the name given to me at birth, but it's the name I prefer. At birth, my father, upon finding out that I was not only a girl, but their fifth girl, decided he wanted to name me Helen-after my mother. My mother, on the other hand, did not want a Helen "Jr." in the house, so somehow they backed peddled into the name Ellen and here I am.

Growing up I was known around the house and among close relatives as Ellie. I've been told that it was my father who again named me, nicknamed me, Ellie. In more official, social situations I was only known as Ellen. Funny how not even my friends called me Ellie. It was only in my home.

My father. Where do I begin? Simply...a man I was terrified of. Even to this day, now I haven't seen him in six years, but as up to the last days my eyes saw his, yes, I was terrified of him. So, when in his nicer moments to be lovingly called "Ellie!" It meant a great deal to me.

I've thought about it again and again, "Why should the name Ellie mean so much to me when given to me by someone who has brought so much pain into my life? Strange. You would think I would hate the name. But no, I love it. The name "Ellen" sounds so serious. So, "You're in trouble, Ellen!"  But how can you possibly be in trouble with the name Ellie? I never was. Anytime he called my nick name out it was with affection and love and I would come running to him.

I know that our father on earth in many ways, sadly, is how we see our Father in heaven. Our Father in heaven, I've come to learn, is nothing like the father I grew up with. My earthly father was quick to fall into rage. My Father in heaven is slow to anger. My father on earth was quick to lash out and punish. My Father in heaven is just and patient, wanting all to  come to salvation.  My father was unkind, unjust, unloving. My Father in heaven -not so.  So why, do I cherish the name Ellie?

Well, I talked about it with my heavenly Father. (My prayer time is just me talking with Him). I believe He told me that in the times where my earthly father was loving, even gentle, those were the times that I had glimpses of Him, my true Father. That my heavenly Father only calls me Ellie. That He delights in me all the time. Even when I sin He has compassion on me-not rage.

So, if you see me and would like to call me Ellie please do so. I would love it. No worries if you continue to call me Ellen-I've come to like that name too. Would you like to know why I don't mind the name Ellen? Would you like yet another story? Okay, here we go...you pulled it out of me. Oh, this is already too long-okay, until next time =D

"So Don't be Afraid"-(Big Head of Hair...yeah that's me: Part 2)

So, fast forward twenty or so years and you'll find that Matthew 10:30 still means a great deal to me. It was one of those scriptures that every time I read it, it ministered true comfort-even confidence, in me. I could quote it for you--"And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered." now I have to tell you, I have read the book of Matthew upwards of twenty times-I should know the scripture-right? so much so that I should be able to tell you the scripture that comes right after it.  -"You are worth more than many sparrows."  I loved this verse too because it would always take me back to Matthew 6:25-34. How God cares for the birds of the air and the Lillie's of the field-and if He cares for them-how much more He cares for us.

Ao here I am reading the book of Matthew again and going over this verse during a time that God is doing a work in me in the area of fear. And guess what...the verses read, "And the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows."  "So don't be afraid."  There it is again. It was so amazing to me that, for some reason, I didn't remember that verse. I guess I was in a place of not being able to even read, hear, or see that. my brain or heart couldn't grasp-NOT being afraid-so I guess I just didn't see it.

Now that I am reading the book of Matthew -in a time where God is revealing so much to me- I am seeing His words of "don't be afraid" every where. Matthew 6:25-34, 8:26, 10:26, 10:28, 10:30, 14:27, 17:7, and so far, that's as far as I've gotten.  Jesus is calling me, us, to not be afraid. i never realized before this year just how many things i have been afraid of. i thought i was pretty faithful-("ye of little faith") thought i was pretty bold-i felt i stood up for myself and stated my opinions clearly-(nice try ;)

true story: years ago, while living in new york with hubby, we wanted to buy a co-op. (a co-op is kinda like owning a condo, only different-yes, I'm very helpful). our friend was a real estate agent and she found one for us. it was a great deal-the people had been looking to sell for a long time-we wanted it-it was a perfect situation. well one day we really wanted to see the co-op again, but we weren't allowed-there's some rule/law that doesn't allow us to go into the home without the owners permission. but seeing as the real estate agent was our friend-she gave us the key(!)

anyway, when we got into the apartment (the people had already moved out) we saw what a mess it was. we thought well, we'll clean it up. we were there for hours going through their stuff- putting stuff in garbage bags- making piles of stuff they probably would want and stuff we'd like to have -if they never came back for it, etc. we locked up the place and left. needless to say, when we got home there was a message from our friend the real-estate lady. she was all upset with us because the people downstairs called the owners of the said co-op. our friend reminded us that it was against the rules for us to have been in there, and what were we doing, we'll probably loose the apt over this...yada,yada, yada. i was filled with such fear. fear of getting in trouble. fear of loosing the apt. fear of having to find another place and not finding another place. fear of -gosh, so much regret.

well, for the next few weeks all i could do was talk about it- but talk about it in complete fear. do you know what i mean? every waking thought i had a pit in my stomache just waiting for the bomb to drop. i was begging everyone i knew to pray that it would all work out. (they were not prayers of faith). i cried over our sin of taking the key and disregarding the rules. i was a mess for weeks. as it turns out- we got the apt., no punishment came on us and not only that the owners actually thanked us for cleaning up the place-they said it made moving so much easier for them!

after that -once settled in the apt.- i confessed my sin of fear and anxiety. i couldn't believe how i had spent weeks worrying-and all that time -God knew. He knew it was all going to work out. I vowed to the Lord that day that i would never again worry like that. that the next time i mess up and potentially ruin a good thing or just worry - i would trust Him.  i've done okay...but God is pushing me to do much better.

it's funny how "not being afraid" is a decision we make. i've chosen so many times not to be afraid when it would be "natural" to do so.  and then there have been so many times where i just got swept away with fear. it's gotta change.  i've got to change.

Lord, i confess, once again, my fear. my fear of change. fear of confrontation. fear of letting others down- you know the list. fill me with your perfect love that drives out all fear. help me to trust you more deeply in every area of my life. help me to live in peace. help me to "sleep" during the big and little storms. love you so very much. your ellie.

Big Head of Hair...Yeah, That's Me. (Part 1)

I grew up with unmanageable, Italian, thick, curly hair and for some reason or other I had not a haircut from the third grade to the eighth grad. Needless to say, my hair grew long and wild. By eighth grade I was at a complete loss with how to handle this mass growing out of my head. I was getting older and wanted to fit in more in a fashionable sense and to top it off, my sister was getting married. She had asked me to be one of her bride's maids-I knew something had to be done. So, by myself, off to the hair salon I went.

I will never forget the looks I received when I walked in. They were aghast. Horrified. Confused. Even a look of, "Oh, no, please don't let her come to me."  They sent me straight to the back and washed "it." Then sat me down in a chair.

The hair stylist just stood there looking in the mirror at my hair. A look of, "Oh well, that didn't help."  Now I had long, dripping, crazy hair.  The stylist looked at another for help. Now I had two looking at me. They called over the manager. She had nothing. They finally asked, "What can we do for you?"  I simply said, "I'd like a hair cut please."

We talked for awhile about all the things that they couldn't do for me and why. They finally came up with a plan. The plan was, drum role please...buzz it all off. They explained that shaving it down to nothing would be the best thing for me. It would be clean, manageable, stylish. I trusted them. An hour later I walked out without much hair at all.

Of course it was a horrible mistake and those of you reading this who remember will concur and then laugh. But such was my life. A life of hair issues. Long or short it was a problem. Then and now every time, pregnant or not, my hair falls out by the handfuls in the shower. And yet I come out of the shower, style it and it seems as if I have not lost one single hair. I seem to have a system in place that produces more hair than my head can hold. Growing up with hair like mine I was very self conscience. Then, I met Jesus.

I read, "And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered."
Can you imagine?
Every hair on MY head is numbered? Well, that's how I felt. The very thing that plagued me, and plagued hair stylist, was so adored by Jesus that He knew and knows how many hairs are on my head. Every time a hair or ten falls out He knows the new number. He watches over us, so concerned over the very things in our lives, so involved that He proves it by knowing a number, a number that no one else could possibly know or care about, the number of hairs on our head. that is one intimate God.

God died for us so that we could be in relationship with Him. I remember when I was a new Christian only a few chapters into the book of Matthew and stopping. I sat there and read Matthew 10:30 over and over again. My God loves me. My God really wants to know me. I bet He knows how many freckles, and how many beauty marks as well. I bet He knows when they first popped up on our skin and our reaction to them. I bet He knows how many scars on my skin too. I bet He also knows the when, why, how and the whole story behind each scar. If God so cares for these little details on our body, that we may not care too much about, how much more does He care about the things we DO care about? How much more does He want us to open up to Him and share all the things boxed up in our hearts? Our God cares. He really cares.

"Why Are You So Afraid?"

I started reading the book of Matthew a few weeks ago, when I came across this quote from Jesus,
"Why are you so afraid?"
It was amazing to me because I had been dealing with fear and then there it was straight from Jesus:
"Why are you so afraid?" 
Such a simple question. Jesus asks not because He doesn't know WHY,but rather a WHAT are you so afraid of when I'M with you."

I've taken this quote from Matthew 8:26. It is the story, "Jesus Calms the Storm."  It says, "Without warning, a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat."  I don't know about you, but I certainly would have been afraid.  It came all of a sudden, out of no where and the waves were sweeping over the boat. That is truly something to be afraid of.  They didn't have time to think. The tragedy was upon them and their natural instinct was to be afraid.

What was Jesus doing?
Sleeping.
Jesus was so at peace that He could sleep.  Jesus wasn't afraid. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't stressing out. He knew that God the Father was in control. He knew that the Holy Spirit was watching over them. He knew that Satan had no power over them. He knew that HE himself could handle the situation. Jesus was calm. Jesus had faith.

So, He asks his disciples, "Why are you so afraid?" In other words, don't you know you have nothing to be afraid of? Don't you know that I will protect you? Don't you know that I won't let anything happen to you? Don't you know that you are safe with me?

Then He says something that I would hate to hear, "You of little faith."  Golly, if the disciples were considered  nearly faithless when a huge storm hit and their very lives were in danger, well then, I must have close to no faith with the silly things I have feared. 

It is amazing that Jesus sees a huge storm as nothing to fear! So it could be said that there is nothing to be afraid of ever! I seriously mean nothing. Fear nothing. Don't fear dying. Don't fear something so huge that could knock you off your feet.  Jesus wants us to be completely trusting Him in all things. The "storms" of life may have happened, may still come, but we are not to be afraid. We are to have faith. We are to believe that God is completely in control. That God knows a way out. That we are not forgotten by Him. That He is aware of all we are going through and He does have a plan.

"Then  he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm. The men were amazed and asked, "What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!" (Matthew 8:26b-27)

Since Jesus can rebuke the winds and the waves, isn't it plausible that He could save us from everything?