Unhindered: A Journey to Move with Power and Purpose

By Jeana Lindbert

When you have been bound by the things of this world for too long, this book will encourage you to believe that a new day has come. Now is the time to follow God and walk out a faith that you didnt even know was possible. Place your worry, doubt, and fear on Him. He has created you for more. Revival is driven by emotion and revolution by action, but transformation is the outcome of those things working together. The power and purpose of all you are meant to be are rising within you as you walk out your unhindered, mountain-moving, white-pant-wearing faith.

The movement begins in you today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Apr 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781449787769

Jeana Lindbert

Jeana lives in Leland, North Carolina, with Ashley, her wonderful husband, and her four amazing sons, Jacob, Levi, Gavin, and Asher. She feels privileged to work for her church, Life Community, as the children’s ministry director. Her family, her friends, and her church are all so supportive and great examples of living life unhindered!

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Copyright © 2013 Jeana Lindbert.

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ISBN: 978-1-4497-8777-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-8776-9 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-8778-3 (hc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013904162

WestBow Press rev. date: 4/4/2013

Table of Contents

Introduction

1    Cereal Anyone?

2    Superheroes Move

3    To Bee in Control

4    Sitting Bird

5    Bring On the Power and the Roadkill

6    Paper Jesus

7    The I’s Have It

8    White Pants … Really?

9    Seven Thousand Miles Away

10  Attic Full

11  Between Bugs and Walls

Introduction

This book was written to inspire people to move with power and purpose through Jesus Christ, whose movement has changed lives for thousands of years. We are all capable of and responsible for moving in a mighty, holy way as we have learned from our Savior. May He inspire us to step out of what we know and feels safe into an unstoppable faith that follows God wherever He leads.

The risk of regret is greater than the fear of failure.

1

Cereal Anyone?

It was a Monday morning and the first day back to school. The music played loudly in my head as the horse’s hooves approached. Yes, the race was on. Not planning to admit defeat, I continued on, unwilling to surrender. Clothes were laid out the night before, leaving the only decision as to whether the kids would brush their teeth before or after breakfast.

As the early morning sun peered through the windows, I walked down the hall to find my boys running around their rooms, bouncing off beds and, yes, getting dressed in their uniforms, belts, shoes, and even socks. They were enthusiastic for the first day back to school, and I was frenzied, trying to make sure everything went smoothly.

Leaving them to their own devices, I ran downstairs to prepare a breakfast made for a king, or, at the very least, four princes. Pots clanged, utensils flew, and heat rose from the stove as I made breakfast and lunches all at once. This was a piece of cake; I had it under control, no problem.

Three of my four boys thumped down the stairs like a small herd of elephants while I threw together whatever somewhat-healthy items I could find for their lunches. What had I done? I had planned breakfast so specifically that I had somehow forgotten to stock up on lunch supplies! Birthday parties, soccer games, church events, and a social prevented me from going to the grocery store over the weekend, but surely I could find something.

Creativity kicked in. As I worked out who would get the last orange, the overly ripe banana, and who may not get a piece of fruit that day, I whisked the eggs, stirred the hash browns, and placed the biscuits on a baking sheet and the grits on the stove (yes, we are from the South). I was in the zone. You know, one of those Mother of the Year moments. They were already making my plaque. This was a memory my boys would hold onto forever. They would tell their grandkids about the time their mom made them an elaborate breakfast with all the fixings, beautiful flowers on the table, no paper plates, and all before their first day of school. Okay, so that was not completely honest. There were flowers on the table, but they were brown and wilted and should have been thrown away days earlier. But the rest was true, and breakfast was going to be magical.

While breakfast was nearing completion, I remembered that my youngest son, Asher, was still sleeping. I ran upstairs, scooped him into my arms, and brought him back downstairs and laid him on the couch so he, too, could partake in the feast prepared in his brothers’ honor. I rushed back to the stove to finish stirring and checking.

My boys huddled on the couch with the early-morning, excitement-wearing-off daze plastered on their faces. I saw them but honestly had no time to look up. This was going to be the greatest meal ever. As I continued working, the more proud I became. I thought about other boys and girls and how I was certain their parents weren’t doing all this for their first day back to higher education with the quest to fuel their brains. I felt even more proud that I was doing this all by myself as my husband left early that morning for work. Can you hear the horn playing and all for me?

While my boys waited patiently, even quietly, my oldest son, Jacob, said to me, Mommy, look at me. I told him to wait, that I had big things I was doing. Again he declared, Mommy, look at me!

I abruptly said, Wait!

Are you kidding me? I thought to myself. He was so ungrateful and demanding while I was sweating over this amazing meal.

I was frantic at this point, with only fifteen minutes before we had to leave for school. Everything would be ready to come out and off in the next minute. Let’s face it; boys eat fast, so this would be easy. Come on. One more minute and I can sit for a second before we are off to school. Then Jacob spoke loudly, passionately, and boldly as he said for the third time, Mom, please look at me!

Exasperated, with spatula in hand and with only thirty seconds on the clock, I looked straight into his big, brown, doe-like eyes as they bore into mine. What?!

With a smile and in a voice as gentle as a whisper, Jacob said, I needed you to look up so you could see how much I love you.

The spatula hit the ground and the timer went off, but the only thing my body would allow me to do in that moment was grab my child. My heart melted as my sweet little boy simply needed me to look at him so I could see how much he loved me. It just doesn’t get any better than that.

We all sat in a pile and snuggled for the next few minutes. We didn’t worry about the crazy day ahead. We didn’t think about anything else but each other. No Mother of the Year award, no fancy breakfast, no amazing words that were going to change the universe. The only thing I could utter from my quivering lips was, I love you all so much!

In my quest to be the perfect mom, I almost failed my family that morning. By some standards, maybe I did. What I do know is that my child was persistent, a character trait he still carries, and I looked up. In my efforts toward greatness, I lost sight of why I was trying to be great. It began for my boys, but it became about me. I needed to hurry up and slow down.

I walked with my boys through the kitchen, gave them each a bottle of water, turned off the timer that was still beeping along with the stove, and grabbed an entire box of cereal that would be their breakfast in the car ride to school. My youngest was still in his pajamas, and we loaded up with backpacks in tow and off we went.

Wow, what a flop. My bubble burst, but my children were happy and absolutely fine with chomping dry cereal as we made our way to school. We all had smiles on our faces and a song in our heart. In that moment, I thanked God as I have never thanked Him before. I remember it to this day; it is forever marked. I reflected on His presence, gave each of my boys a big hug for a big day, and waved until I thought my arm would fall off. My children loved me and, oh, how I loved them.

As I drove away from school with my little pajama boy, all I could think about was how amazing God was and is. How amazing that we get to see His love each day if we only open our eyes and our hearts to it. I noticed the hues of green that painted the trees, the grass, and the bushes. The flowers were shades of blues, yellows, and purples that went beyond the spectrum and greater than my imagination. The sky was as blue as the ocean with animal-shaped clouds floating through its waves. The birds soared through the air like horses galloping to their stables. God did all this so we could see how much He loves us.

All these