Tag Archives: faith

10 Thank You’s

At the beginning of the school year, my youngest had an interesting school assignment.  He had to tell something about his life using the numbers 1-10.  Pretty cool!

As we near Thanksgiving, I’d like to share ten things about life I am thankful for using the numbers 1-10.

#10 – My great-grandmother gave me, for my 10th birthday, a 110 Instamatic camera.  As soon as I held it, I was hooked for life.  Someone once told me photography is my voice to the world.  Nailed it!  Although my cameras have changed over the years, it’s been an unending love affair ever since.

#9 –  God has richly blessed my life with nine fantastic girlfriends.  These are women I deeply admire and respect.  They are funny, smart, godly, and irreplaceable.  They are women who I know I can call anytime of day for anything – and they me.  We laugh till it hurts, pray for and with each other, and love sharing life together.  They never cease to amaze me with the bottomless love, grace and mercy they weave into their lives.  I want to be like them when I grow up!  We may have many friends and acquaintances, but I am spoiled with these nine women who generously let me in their worlds and love me back.  You know who you are!

#8 –  This Thanksgiving I am thankful for eight years with my dad.  With his permission, I published a devotion about our story (click here) , and today I find myself sitting here thinking about him.  This will be the first Thanksgiving since he died last December.  This time last fall, we were traveling back and forth almost every weekend crossing state lines to visit him in the hospital.  Every time we went, he was a little weaker.  On the fifth trip, we received the call to hurry and say goodbye, and so we dropped everything and went.  I am so glad we did.  When I was in his hospital room, a different kind of sadness overtook my heart.  It seems most people have a hard time letting go of a loved one because of how much history they share and how deeply they have loved.  I found myself mourning not what we had, but what we won’t have.  Over the past year, I have mourned the lack of a future together rather than a past.  Our history involved decades of silence and hurt.  But, once we reconciled, with Christ as our mediator, we got 8 great years together.  Driving home from saying goodbye to him for the final time, I said to Bruce, Life is messy.  People aren’t perfect, but many people live their whole lives with family only on the surface level.  Ray and I may have only had 8 years together, but they were deep.  I would have rather had 8 years of fulling loving each other than a lifetime of staying merely relatives.  I miss him a lot.  I continue to miss what we won’t get to have this side of heaven.  But, I look forward to the day I will see him again – cancer free – and this time we have eternity to look forward to spending together.  No more goodbyes.

#7 – My family is blessed to spend Thanksgiving with seven family members, in addition to our party of five, this year.  We love our extended family and cherish the tradition of getting together.  Cousins, grandmother, uncles, aunts, and in-laws – we have a great time together!  We are blessed that everyone gets along great and is as excited as we are to be together.  The family game of football, Black Friday shopping, and leftover turkey sandwiches are great times, but it’s an extra blessing to be with people who share life together not just on the holidays.  Although we all live in different places, we have so much in common.  Whether it be old memories of times we’ve shared or fond stories about people we miss, no one understands it like those who lived it, too.  I am very thankful for the blessing of family.

#6 – My dog turned six this year.  She is my 4th child.  Although I’ve had pets all my life, I always dreamed of a dog who wanted to be with me.  A dog I can let off the leash and not worry about her running away because she actually wants to stay with me.  This is my dog.  She is my shadow, my friend.  Yesterday, she had some oral surgery leaving her very sore and quite loopy from the anesthesia.  When we got home from the vet, she followed behind me making the most pitiful moans and groans.  I thought she was hungry because of the fast for surgery so I gave her a small amount of food.  She ate it all up, but followed me still.  I caved in and gave her more.  Gobbled it up, but followed me still.  She stood at my feet while I washed dishes in the kitchen, begging with her glassy eyes and shaved I.V. leg.  I remembered her favorite treats, so I cut up a couple really small.  She loved them, but returned under foot.  She had such a longing in her eyes.  I turned off the faucet, looked at her and said, I don’t know what you want?  What it is?  She cocked her head to the side like she usually does when trying to tell me something.  We have this special bond, and it was in that moment I said, Do you just want me?  She cocked her head again and raised her paw to me.  So, I left the kitchen and sat down on the couch.  She jumped up on my lap and snuggled down.  Within just a minute or two, she was fast asleep in my arms.  Content.  Comfortable.  Loved.

#5 – God hand-picked five incredible people to be a part of my life – through an unusual way.  Three of them (plus a brother in-law!) come by way of my dad’s third marriage.  I have two step-sisters and one step-brother.  From the day I first met them when I was 13 years old, they all welcomed me into their family and although we don’t get to see each other much, I love them and am honored to call them friends.  They are really good people.  You know what I mean?  Honest, sincere, funny and witty.  They love their country, family and never met a stranger.  The other two people are newer to me and are nothing short of a gift from God.  They are…my half brothers!  From my dad’s first marriage (we were marriage #2), these guys remained a mystery to me until last December.  When my dad died, they both came to his celebration of life service.  Oh my!  I was instantly smitten with the idea of having these two men in my life.  They are kind, genuine and want me in their life!  How about that?  Whereas we went to honor the loss of our mutual father, it was in his death that new life sprang up between theses guys and me.  We live long-distance, but it is an enormous blessing to share emails and Facebook with them.  Our dad would be so happy!  Also, I got to meet their mom and she is wonderful!  Actually, all 3 wives would get along great if my mom were alive today.  The peace and harmony in our colorful family is Christ.  Everyone single one of us are believers, and that is what makes this unique situation – not just work – but be one of the greatest blessings in my life.  I LOVE having two half-brothers and am forever grateful they have room in their hearts for me.  Life, no – God, is full of surprises!

#4 – I am thankful for four words – blessing, honor, glory & power.  One of my favorite worship songs is Philips, Craig & Dean’s When the Stars Burn Down.  What a great song about what is to come!  In the meantime, these four words usurp everything this world can throw at us.  Whether we are at our peak or in the deepest valley, it all pales in comparison to the majesty of the God we serve.  If I am shouting praise or crying His name through pain, who God is covers all.  The mere shadow of the train of His robe dwarfs the problems of this world as well as sets me up for the anticipation of the very real world that awaits.  With a word, the sun will fade, the moon will hide and the world as we know it will be changed.  In all of the seasons of life, my heart claims again and again and again blessing, honor, glory & power.  There is strength, healing and grace in the Name that saves.

#3 – I am blessed with three amazing kids!!!!!  Each one of them was born with a different love language and communication style, unique talents and gifts – life is never boring with them!  They are so much fun.  They love their family deeply and show it in their own way.  I never thought I’d have 3 kids.  Never thought I’d have boys – and I have two.  Never thought I’d have a daughter who is so much like her mother. 🙂  In the mornings while I sleepily gather lunchboxes, my oldest son tells me often how pretty he thinks I am.  To me, there nothing pretty about morning stick-up hair, my husband’s robe I stole from him long ago 😉 or my less-than-enthusiastic attitude pre-sunrise, but he says he sees a mom who is willing to get up and make breakfast and lunch and see him off for the day and that he thinks that’s beautiful.  My teenage daughter, when asked in a survey at a girls retreat who her best friend is, listed me!!  Need I say more?  My youngest, a tween, still hugs me every single time he leaves for any activity – and he doesn’t care who sees.  Even at school, in the middle of tons of cars and kids, he’ll give me a hug and a kiss.  I’m never going to turn it down.  I am blessed beyond measure with awesome kids and I never, ever take that granted.

#2 – Two surgical boots.  That’s right!  I am thankful for this season of healing for Bruce and me.  Although it is crazy, stressful, choatic and literally painful, this season has brought me such beautiful blessings of: having my husband work from home (I get to see him more!), some stolen lunches together (something we otherwise never get to have), and a renewed compassion for each other.  First, I was down for the count after surgery and he cared for me.  Then, he fell from 20′ and has been quite injured and it’s my turn to care for him – even as I hobble to do it.  Watching ourselves limp in tandem around the house, hearing the loud velcro strips from our boots either coming off or putting them on, sharing the ice machine – and even the shower seat (EWW!!) has slowed our pace, let us laugh at life, and has reminded us that in the daily grind of the week we are people, not machines.  Nursing our medical issues has also given us permission to simply go to bed earlier with no guilt.  Something both of us needed.

#1 – There is one Name that saves.  Only one.  His name is Jesus Christ.  He is my true love, hope, salvation, joy, purpose, friend, brother, King, Lord, Prince of Peace, manager, coach, cheerleader, encourager, my Savior – my everything!  I will give Him thanks today and always.  To him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen. (Jude 24-25)

What is your top ten? 🙂

Thanksgiving Traditions

If your home looks like mine, colorful fall leaves have found their way to every room of the house, my one annual, frivolous expense, a yummy smelling pumpkin spice candle is more than half-way used up by now, and the hall closet has been ransacked by kids hurrying to find a jacket to take to school on unexpectedly chilly mornings.  I love it!

With Thanksgiving next week, I am scouring Pinterest and my familiar cookbooks to decide what to make for “the dinner.”  We share this holiday with extended family, and it’s just so fun to have everyone bring their family’s favorite dishes to share.

One dish that represents our clan is pie.  No, I’m not a great pie maker.  I’m not sure I’m even a good pie maker, but the story behind this pie is what has made it a family tradition.

Several years ago, I was in the kitchen, with the other women folk in the family, and we were cooking up a storm.  Every burner was hot, the oven was roasting, and every last inch of counter space filled was with cutting boards, knives, vegetables – you name it.  I was totally in my element.

In the background, the Macy’s Day Parade played with my husband and kids narrating every float so I could run into the family room to see our favorites.  The sun was bright, the air crisp, and Thanksgiving smells filled every room.

While I was busy chopping, dicing and slicing, my firstborn, barely double-digits, walked into the kitchen.  He came over to me and said, Can we bake something?

Um, huh? I thought as the menu was set and every minute leading up to the glutton-fest was allocated for demanding recipes already in progress.

A bit confused, I asked him, Like what, Honey?

I was thinking pie.

Pie? I asked.  I don’t really know how to make a good pie.

I’m sure we can find a recipe, or just make one up, he insisted.

Hmm.  I’m not sure we even have the ingredients and the grocery store is closed now, I answered while stirring pots and checking oven thermometers and whisking and blending and chopping.

I love to cook with my kids.  But, now?  It had to be right now?  I was obviously a little busy at the moment.

How about an apple pie? he suggested.

Welll, um, I began.  At that moment, my mommy’s eyes caught his gorgeous hazel eyes and I saw the sincerity in his request.  He wasn’t asking to make more food to eat.  He was asking to be a part of what I was doing.  He wanted time with me.  He wanted to do something special with me on Thanksgiving.

I gazed at his tenderness and saw just how young he still was, and the longer I looked at him, the more I realized my children won’t be little forever.

I put my cutting knife down, rested my hands on his shoulders, and said, You bet.  Let’s bake an apple pie!

He got so excited, but I didn’t know where to begin.  Putting everything on simmer, I abandoned my cooking projects for time with my son.

We combed through The Joy of Cooking cookbook and found a basic pie crust recipe.  Everything we made had to be scratch because stores were closed.  I am so glad they were, because otherwise I never would have know what an awesome pastry crust maker my son is!  He kneads that dough until you can almost see your reflection!  I am way too impatient to stand there and work it, but he loves it.

We found 2 apples, but a decent pie really needs at least 4, so we found out in our quest.  Thinking hard for something else we could add, I remembered my mother-in-law made a grape pie once that was really good!  I never would have thought of using grapes in a cooked pie, but it was delicious.

My son foraged through the refrigerator and sure enough we had exactly 2 cups of grapes. Perfect.

We assembled the apple & grape pie, and with a little leftover pastry dough we cut out a single turkey shape using a cookie cutter and placed it on top of the crust.

The Great Turkey Pie was born!

Not only was it delicious, but we had the time of our lives making it together.

Holidays can quickly become a nightmare when the stress of expectations steals our joy and the true meaning of the season is buried under futile projects (many of them self-imposed).  For that Thanksgiving, and every one since, I am truly thankful I have children who want to be with me, do fun things together, and aren’t afraid to ask and not assume Mom is too busy.

I never want to be too busy for my kids – especially on the holidays.

Every year when my son and I make this special pie together, it is time I so look forward to, because he’s getting older.  I want to make life promise me that he and I will always make this pie together, perhaps even with his children helping us one day, but life won’t make that promise.

What I do have is this Thanksgiving, Lord willing.  Whatever else is swirling around on the holidays, The Great Turkey Pie is my reminder to love, cherish and enjoy my family right now.  Here’s the irony – I have no idea what all of the other food I made was now!  All that hard work with no memory now whatsoever!  The perfect turkey or impressive side dishes, cute homemade place cards or a magazine-worthy table setting doesn’t come near to equating making memories with my family.

Yeah, I’d love to have a table and trimmings that look like something out of Pottery Barn or Sur La Table.  But, I’ll take committing to fewer bells and whistles in order to have more of myself to give my family.

More than a gourmet meal, my son wanted to spend time with me.  Me!  A regular wife and mom who constantly questions whether she’s getting this parenting thing right.  His desire for my attention told me how much he loved me, and stopping my agenda to be with him told him the same.  Fun times now.  Cherished memories tomorrow.  I am blessed.  I am thankful.

The pink backpack

I don’t know about you, but today, my whole household is so thankful it’s Friday!  What a week.  Weathering peaks and valleys, failures and victories, at the close of this day we will tuck this week into the history books and look forward to much needed rest this weekend.

But before I can go into chillaxin’ mode, one last day must be completed.  This began with 2 carpool runs to the same school.  My kids were struggling to get ready on time, and when one was finally good to go, I decided to make the first run.

On the way, I passed a dad walking his little girl to school.

Once through the drop off line, I headed back home for my second child.  Making an about face with my van, I headed back to school with my teen in tow.

Going through the same carpool line again, I noticed at the intersection of the school light was the dad and little girl I passed before.

They stood on the corner together, and what they were doing caught my eye.

He had her bubblegum pink backpack on his back and her lunchbox in his hand.  Slowly, he pulled the backpack off and gave it to her.  He handed her the lunchbox and told her he loved her.

I’m sure it was the blazing morning sun shining offensively in my eyes that made them water.  Or was it?  Pulling out of the school parking lot, I rounded the corner and glanced at them in my rear view mirror.

All the way home, I replayed the image of this very tall dad with a small, pink backpack strapped to his back.

I stopped the day long enough to grab some breakfast and have a moment with God.  I read my devotion, some Scripture and began to pray.  This week, I confess, has been filled with prayers on the run.  Not something I am proud of.

Today was different.  After hearing a message from David Jeremiah yesterday on the radio about the importance of giving our daily priorities to God, I realized I had asked God to go along for the ride instead of asking Him to drive.

So today, I stopped and prayed.  My raw, honest words surprised me.  I said something like, I’m sorry God that I cannot present to you a prettier me.  I am weary.  Weary of the stuff in life that won’t turn me loose.  I’m trying to live in the spiritual realm, but it’s really hard when tangible stuff grabs a hold of me and won’t let me go.  Things that demand my time and attention.  I feel like…like…like my office desk.  I am the desk, and all of the stuff in life is burying me.  Everything demands, ‘Do me first!’  Everything screams, ‘I’m most important!’  Paperwork, phone calls, emails, errands, medical stuff, school stuff, volunteer stuff, so many kinds of stuff!  I am supposed to take care of everything, at the same time and with the same amount of energy and effort, while standing and holding myself and all of it up – with a bad foot.  It’s just so much!  I’m weary of it all.  And, I’m weary of my foot recovery.  I’m weary of my husband’s injury and the havoc both of these have reeked in our family life.  I’m weary of homework, watching my kids struggle for sleep, clutter everywhere because 24 hours in a day aren’t enough, and that no matter how behind I feel, or how slow I’m moving with my dumb, hurting foot, life just keeps bringing it.  I dread getting out of bed in the morning because from the moment my eyes open, the problems are right there – staring at me while I bury my head in the pillow.  From the time my feet hit the floor, the issues demand my attention – before I can brush my teeth.  I wish I could present to You a beautiful bride of Christ who radiates calm and who is organized, and efficient.  Instead, it’s me.  The office desk.  Flat, silent, and who feels more practical than pretty.  Will You help me order my day?  See, I’ve written it all down.  Everything that must be done.  Please arrange it according to Your divine plan – and grant me the strength to do it.

God met me in that moment.  He brought to mind that dad, his little girl, and her backpack.  He said, I’m with you Baby Girl, every day, from the moment the sun rises.  In fact, I’ve been with you all night.  Watching over you (Psalm 121), singing over you (Zephaniah 3:17) and tending to you.  Everything you have on that list is packed in your backpack.  It may not be bubblegum pink, but it’s heavy for you, with things you must do and what is expected of you, like that little girl’s was.  And like her father carried her load for her, so I want to carry yours.  Let me strap it on and walk with you on this journey we call Today.  I’ll even hold your hand and carry your lunchbox full of needs.  I’d carry your backpack of demands even if it were girly pink because I am secure enough in who I AM to my children.  I am strong.  Capable.  Loving.  Willing.

Wow.  God has a way of breaking through walls around our hearts and going right into the deepest part of our souls.  The hidden places we guard so carefully.

I remembered feeling so touched by the moment of watching that dad and his little girl, but couldn’t put my finger on it as to why.  Now I understood.  It was bittersweet, quite honestly.  Part of me felt sad, okay, maybe a little sorry for myself, that not for one day in my entire life have I felt the tender touch of a father.  Neither by my biological father or stepfather.  Not for one day have I known what it’s like to rely on either dad to help me or be there for me in the tough stuff.  I felt those feelings first.

But, God paralleled those thoughts with Truth.  I may not have a human father figure to care for me, but God is my Abba Father, a.k.a. Daddy, and He loves me very much.  He always has, and always will, be happy to help.  He is there to share the journey, hold our hand, and provide for our needs.  Moreover, He’s not just there to accompany us, but He offers to carry our load for us while we sojourney the 24/7/365 with Him.  His grace, love and faithfulness to His promise to never leave us fills my heart with peace and gives me everything I need to do the day…and smile doing it!

I’m glad my kids were running late today.  What began as a harried moment, transformed into an entirely different perspective on the day.  Had they ridden the bus, I never would have seen that dad and his little girl – or her pink backpack strapped over his broad shoulders.

What was heavy for her, was easy for him – sipping his coffee as they walked.

What’s in your backpack today?  Is the weight of it cutting into your shoulders or bruising the muscles in your back?  God is more than willing to carry it for you – if you will trust Him and release it into His care.

Psalm 91:1, He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

Psalm 55:22, Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall.

Isaiah 40:11, He tends his flock like a shepherd:  He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.

1 Peter 5:7, Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

Matthew 11:28-30, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Election hangover

This morning, I woke up blind with tiredness.  I reset the alarm for a coveted 15 more minutes – hoping in those 15 minutes everything would fix itself and I could start this day with a spring in my step.  Not.

Dragging myself out of bed, a lack of sleep stung my eyes.  I stayed up into the wee hours last night watching everything about the election, then fell into bed with a huge sense of disappointment and a feeling of dread about the future.

As I scurried around on my good foot this morning (now running late since I overslept) organizing lunches, breakfast, laundry, etc. my thoughts were completely preoccupied with bewilderment, confusion, and anger at how anyone thinks we are so better off now as a nation that we want to continue this for four more years.  I am utterly drained from the intellectual and emotional investment I made into the campaign season.  I feel physically sick to my stomach about the thought of the repercussions our nation faces.  But, there is a day to begin.

I woke up my daughter, and the first thing she asked was, Who won?

Telling her the results, she replied, So are you going to wear all black today?

She remembered that sometime during the election season, I said that if my candidate didn’t win, I would wear all black the next day symbolizing my mourning.

When it was time for me to get myself ready, I stood at my closet and stared blankly into the abyss of textures and colors.  Reaching for my black pants, I glanced at my tops.  Fingering my way down the rack, I look intently at the few black tops I own.

Hmm, I muttered to myself, what to wear…

I thought about my daughter and what I had said, and in that moment of decision I chose not to play.

Nope, no black for me, I said to myself pulling my favorite blue jeans from the rack.  Wearing all black seemed like giving into the feelings of angst that taunt me today.

Leaving the house, I plucked my political sign from the yard and tossed it in the back seat.  The heaviness and hopelessness in my heart was so strong it made my head hurt.

Driving in a daze of the sobering reality that awoke me this morning, I turned on the radio to drown out the sea of thoughts rolling through my mind.

One song after another sang of God’s faithfulness, His love and His encouragement to finish our race strong.  Note by note, lyric by lyric, His presence began to cut through the dark cloud that hung over my head.  I found myself ever-so-slightly humming the tunes to these familiar songs.  Then, I began to mouth them in the middle of morning rush hour.

Without warning, I was raptured in praise and my eyes were taken off this world and fixed on what is to come.  In a moment, my perspective snapped back as I shook off the negative attitude.

So, what did this election do for me?  It makes me very sad for my fellow citizens who will be affected by penalizing healthcare changes, mandatory work hour decreases, and the vulnerability we face with a decreasing military defense and increasing terror threats and actions toward us.  I could go on.

However, the stark reality of this life made me almost giddy about the life that is to come.  The one that will last forever.  This life is so short – but a breath – but what will come is eternal (James 4:14).  I’m not saying that I am going to be ignorant to the issues we face, or run from the fight to protect the unborn and the sanctity of marriage, as well as respect and care for the elderly, and advocate for religious freedom (Micah 6:8; James 4:17).

I am saying that in middle of this fight, my perspective remains on what is constant, not shifting like shadows or the tide.  I am a citizen of another country in the unseen realm.  There, there is no political divide, no fear, no harm, no sadness.  There is peace, wholeness, and holiness.

These election results almost made me slip in my outlook on life (Psalm 73).  Instead, I am empowered by loosening my tethers to this world as I look forward to God fulfilling His promise to me about what is to come (Hebrews 11:39-40).  I could be bitter and angry, but instead I will run my race stronger in hopes that others who do not call Christ Savior will one day and join me in the awesomeness that is coming (Hebrews 12:1-2; Philippians 3:13-14).

I realize all over again that believers are indeed strangers, foreigners to this world (1 Peter 2:11).  We speak nonsense to those who don’t know Christ (1 Corinthians 1:18).  Our values are different.  Our purposes are driven by divine inspiration, and our empowerment is given by a force (the Holy Spirit) that nothing in this tangible world can take away (1 Corinthians 2:14).

What began this morning for me as an election hangover (proverbially speaking), God redeemed in me as a reassurance of where my eternal citizenship belongs (Ephesians 2:19; Philippians 3: 18-21).

Will there be hard days of change?  Yes.  Will I get frustrated and even downtrodden?  Most definitely.  Will I lose hope and fear God has forsaken me?  No. (Deuteronomy 31:6; Joshua 1:5)

Believers throughout time have faced generations of difficulty (Matthew 5:12).  We can succumb to its bullying or remember where our loyalty lies and follow God’s ways – even if no one else around us does.

Life is short.  Time is relative.  The eternal promise God has given believers remains in tact.  Strong.  Powerful.  Unstoppable.  Reliable.  Trustworthy.

For the days God has ordained for me to traverse this planet, I will surrender them for His glory – come what may.  Jesus never promised us an easy life with no difficulties or disappointments.  In fact, He promised us there would be hardship and instructed us to pick up our cross and follow Him anyway (John 16:33).

Regardless of who calls 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue their temporary home address, I am excited about a life waiting for me with a permanent home that neither time or circumstance can take away.  Until that day, we plug on doing what He has called for us to do today, as today is all we’ve been given.  And, we aren’t doing this thing called life alone.  With the day that we’ve been given, God has given us what we need to complete it.  So be it.  Let’s get started, because the gift of salvation we were given wasn’t meant to be kept on a shelf in our souls.  It was meant to be shared.

I was in a bookstore today and saw two nannies enjoying coffee together.  The boys they had with them were just little guys – toddlers.  Peanuts.  Two of the cutest boys you’ve ever seen.  The nannies were getting ready to leave, when the sweet boys embraced each other tightly.  With their little bowl haircuts and lisps, they hugged and said goodbye.  Their tender hearts were so evident when they said they hope they see each other again soon.  What a moment to savor, and everyone – including me – did.

I thought to myself, I wonder if they will be divided by political party or controversial issues when they are older?  Will they grow closer or farther apart?  Will their hugs today turn into competitive, insincere handshakes later?  They are so innocent now.  What could prove to sever their friendship when they’ve grown into men?

It’s true.  What we feel passionately about draws boundary lines in our lives.  I was shocked to see that our neighbors had an opposing political sign  in their yard yesterday.  Shocked.

As believers, can we put aside the things of this world to extend a friendly handshake or hug or help to those who oppose us?  Not only can we, but we have a responsibility to be salt and light in this world.  As the hands of time tick closer to a day when all things will cease, and as issues grow hotter – along with tempers over them – may our hearts remain like these little guys I saw today…genuine, tender and kind.

In heaven and on the new earth, there will be no political parties.  We will be people, conformed to the likeness of Christ.  Let’s take every opportunity, while fighting the good fight of faith, to practice this on earth because many still don’t call Christ their Lord.

Driving home this afternoon, I glanced at the trees that lined the streets like soldiers.  Burning colors of red, orange and yellow lit the skyline as bright as any sunset I’ve seen.

They reminded me that, just like the seasons of the calendar, everything – including an election – has a season (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8).  This upcoming political season doesn’t excite me.  Rather, it disappoints me.  Nonetheless, it is just a season.  One that God controls, not man.  A season that will bring about God’s glory one way or the other.  May we be part of the work that lets Him shine.

Hebrews 13:21, May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him,through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

~ Kristi

***Here is a great article regarding post-election perspective.  Check it out! http://onenewsnow.com/perspectives/peter-heck/2012/11/07/a-message-to-discouraged-christians

An unexpected election response

This morning, I left my home to vote.  Hobbling through the doors in my surgical shoe, I followed protocol and stood in line.  When it was my turn to vote, I stepped behind the machine and suddenly halted in my tracks.

I just stood there, staring at the electronic board.  Months had culminated to this moment, and I could almost feel an electricity in the air.

Inhaling a long, deep breath, I voted.  In the middle of casting my ballot, an applause broke out in the room.  Startled, I looked to the woman next to me voting and asked what everyone was clapping for.  She pointed to a pretty, 18 year-old young woman and said it was her first time every voting.  I was so proud of her!

Once I finished, I left and texted my husband, telling him to come right away as the line wasn’t long.  He’s on crutches, so the less standing time the better.  It’s a tradition for us to take our kids with us to vote.  They’ve been to countless elections.  I want them to be knowledgeable and comfortable with the process.  This year they got to go with Dad.  A treat!

Perhaps some of my passion for our children coming with us to vote is because, to this day, I vividly remember walking into my voting precinct at 18 and feeling utterly lost.  I had no idea what I was doing, and was embarrassed that it showed all over my deer-in-headlights expression.  I want our children, when they turn 18, to confidently know how to educate themselves on who to vote for and then make the time to do it.

America’s voting percentages have been pathetic at times.  We have been granted a privilege, and it is our responsibility to vote as citizens of this nation.  If I may be so bold, my philosophy is this…vote or don’t complain later.  Voting is our opportunity to speak, and if we forfeit that gift which was bought by the blood and sacrifice of countless men and women who have paid the price of our freedom, then don’t bother complaining later.  Harsh, I know.  But, it’s how I believe.

In the parking lot of my precinct, a wave of emotion hit me completely unexpectedly.  Tears welled up in my eyes and a lump swelled in my throat.  Bewildered, I simply let the emotion flow.  When I paused, I thought about what I was feeling, and realized it was an overflow of relief and release over this election.

For months, I have followed this election extremely closely.  I’ve listened to the debates, watched countless interviews and analyses and read many, many articles from every angle.  The only “information” I ignore are political ads.  Rhetoric.  And, for the first time in my entire life, I stuck a presidential candidate sign in my front yard.

After months of praying, pleading and begging with God to find mercy and grace on this incredible nation, today I awoke with no words.  I told God, I feel I am out of prayer over this.  I am exhausted over this election.

Instead, I have sung worship and praise songs that speak my heart – and prayed some more as the hours pass.

Emotion overwhelmed my soul this morning, even way before a result is rendered, and now that I have taken the last step and voted, I wait knowing there is nothing else I can do except continue to pray.  As an American voter, we are each a part of a very large team.  That team is running a generational marathon.  As a team member, I have done what I have been able to do in my own power, and casting my vote was my finish line.  The baton has been passed.

However the results turn out, I can sleep at night knowing I did what I could – in the midst of surgery, my husband’s injury, and the blessed, chaotic daily grind.

That is what I want our kids to take away from this election and every election.  Every person is important.  Every vote is important.  And being part of the process is important.  They are the next generation who will will lead this country.  We must be an example for them to follow.

Ultimately, we place the election outcome in God’s hands.  He is bigger than this election.  He is much larger than either candidate.  His plans have been set since before the birth of this planet and nothing can change them (Job 42:2).  He gives and takes away.  He loves always.  He disciplines.  He extends mercy and grace.  His ways are higher than our ways, and thoughts His are higher than our thoughts (Isaiah 55:8).  He is good all the time.

We may be electing the next president of our country, but my faith is in my God who created and sustains this world we live and vote in.  My trust is in Christ, who gave me citizenship through salvation in a country not of this world – one that will outlast everything we know to be normal.  My joy is in knowing that God is sovereign, and although the seat of the president is up for grabs every 4 years, God shares His throne with no one and never leaves it.  He rules.  He reigns.  God is God – yesterday, on election day, and forever.

Hope thrives

Yesterday, my husband and I went to grab a quick bite for lunch.  He is working from home these days following his rock climbing accident on Monday which left him injured.  We hobbled into the restaurant together, both donning a right surgical boot – him limping with a crutch.  We look comical, really, and were given many stares and glances at our predicament by those around us.  Twinsies.

As I stood in line to order our food, I noticed on my left a very elderly man and his aide, a home health assistant.  They were engaged in conversation, and what spoke most to me was her softness toward him.

Having had my grandmother go through the assisted living regime in her later years, I am quite familiar with all it entails.  I have known attendants that were so sweet and kind and loved their jobs, and unfortunately, those who felt the opposite.

This woman was precious.

When he said something to her (I couldn’t hear over the noise), she laughed and he touched her cheek with the back of his hand.  She could be his granddaughter, or great-granddaughter, and it seemed as though she felt that way to him.

While enjoying a coveted, rare lunch break with my husband, I periodically glanced over his shoulder to watch them in the background.  It was obvious that going on a lunch excursion was a big feat for this man and his disabilities.  An effort, but worth it.  Toward the end of their lunch, I watched from across the room as she wheeled him to the restrooms.

Attendants are unsung heroes.  Their job requires more self-sacrifice than what others will experience in a lifetime.

After some time, they reappeared in the dining room and headed out the door – as she gently pushed him in his wheelchair.  We left a few seconds behind them, hobbling back to our van.

As we drove away, we passed them approaching their car.  He looked at us, smiled and waved, with his attendant at this side.  We waved and smiled back.

In a time with so much sorrow and pain in our nation, this woman was such a testament to the human spirit.  She was caring, attentive and considerate.  He thoroughly enjoyed his lunch out because of the way she treated him.

I remember with my grandmother, I needed to walk slower than my usual pace, repeat myself numerous times, and be willing to adjust plans on a dime because of unexpected health concerns or circumstances.  I remember waiting with her in the doctors’ offices, picking her up for family events, and simply spending time together whether watching my young children play on the playground, walking the aisles of the grocery store, or sitting on the couch and talking and talking and talking.  This was precious time to me.

The reason I have so many fond memories of that time in my life is because she modeled these things for me first.  My mom did her best, but from an early age my grandmother helped raise me.  She picked me up from school when I was sick, took me to get an ice cream cone on special days, and taught me how to be a lady.  She played games with me, advocated for me when I needed it, and countless hours were spent sitting at her pink-tiled kitchen counter talking and talking and talking…usually over a home-cooked meal she spent the entire afternoon preparing.  She did the best she could to finish raising me after Mom died.  She was smart, gentle and funny.  I learned through my grandparents that the generations ahead of us have an unending plethora of wisdom and knowledge to offer those following behind.

We were made for community.  With God’s help, community gets us through the tough stuff of life.  None of us can handle everything completely alone.  We weren’t supposed to.

Watching this sweet woman yesterday, and thinking about all that my grandmother did for me over the years, a flicker of hope in my spirit fanned into a flame that together, we can survive the storm – whether it be physical, relational, or weather.

God puts people in each others’ paths to share the journey.  Let’s not miss an opportunity to be that person to someone today, or to welcome someone’s help in our life.  Either way, we are all more blessed in the end.

New Shoes

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. ~ Philippians 4:6-7

This morning was a milestone for my recovery…I got to take a shower without having my foot being wrapped up and kept dry.  Yeah!  That may seem like a trivial thing, but I’ve waited 2 weeks for water to flow over, and soap to clean, my surgical foot.

However, afterwards I noticed something alarming.  It appears part of my stitches came open.  I won’t gross anyone out with more medical talk, but suffice it to say it led to texting my doctor for instructions.

Talk about deflating!  I went from riding a high one minute, to being consumed with worry the next.  Am I at risk for infection?  Sepsis?  Something I don’t know about?

I’ll admit that fear gripped my mind and soul, partly because I want to be thoroughly healed up, and partly because I’ve only allocated a certain amount of time for this surgical hiccup to interrupt our lives (like I have total control over it).

As I began my prayer time today, I said, God, I’m worried.  I’m worried about my foot.  This is all I’ve got to bring You today.

I continued by praying on the armor of God like I do every day (Ephesians 6:10-18).  When I reached the part of my prayer…I fit my feet with the readiness that comes from the Gospel of peace to go where, when and for how long You say…God interrupted me.

What did you just tell me, Kristi?

I told you I’m bringing you worry.

What did you just pray?

To fit my feet with my feet with peace.

That was my ah-ha moment!  How beautifully and creatively God works in our lives.  The same part of my body that I feel bound to with fear and worry, is the same part of the armor of God that is fitted for peace.

I understand that the peace Paul talked about was in regards to following God’s will, commands, and voice in life so closely that above our doubt, fears and our own agendas we can trust Him no matter where He leads us.

However, it was amazingly intertwined with how I am feeling, particularly about my foot, today.

In my prayer, I asked God to continue to heal my foot from the inside out.  It wasn’t until today I got a close look at the ramifications of surgery.  It’s taken a beating and I’ll leave it at that.

When I spoke of healing from the inside out, I know the benefit to waiting weeks and weeks for a solid, lasting recovery.  If everything looked great on the outside, but wasn’t healed properly on the inside, there would be future problems for sure.  Problems I can’t see from the outside, but would certainly feel on the inside.  The recovery process would be lengthened indefinitely.

God reminded me that this is the same with our hearts and lives.  He heals from the inside out.  Just as I sat down with my pc today, before any programs were even opened, my mother-in-law popped up on Ovoo.  Wow!  I didn’t expect that.  Neither did she.  She said her pc did the same thing.  We laughed that it was meant for us to chat.

She said, You look wonderful!

Thanks.  A shower always helps.

On the outside I am clean, dressed and accessorized.  On the inside, I am churning with worry about my foot.  This moment was a great reminder to me that God indeed heals from the inside out, and no matter how hard we try to put our best foot forward to the world, God sees what’s going on inside, and that is where He begins His work.

Is His work completed overnight?  Rarely.  So we wait.  We try to live the P word – patience.  Ug.  I have to keep coming back to a place where I am pliable in the Potter’s hands.  I have to remind myself to stop fighting against His healing hand.

My doctor says that some of his patients come in after the same foot surgery and their toe is frozen stiff because they didn’t  do their exercises at home.  I am determined to not be one of those patients, because I’ve learned from past experience that physical therapy hurts that much more when we don’t obey our instructions.

There is a time for us to surrender our souls and let God operate.  There is also a time that we are to sit still and simply recover.  There is still a time for us to do our exercises, so scar tissue won’t build up in our hearts – rendering them stiff, hardened and unmovable.

As believers, we have free will.  It is our choice to believe that God is working for our good (Romans 8:28), even in the tough times.  We have the choice to be patient and wait out the work He is completing in us from the inside out.  Waiting through the moments when no change is visible from the outside, rather small, subtle, lasting changes are weaving our broken hearts together again to make a new, stronger person both inside and out.

Oh, and about the timeline, I don’t know if you’ve ever given God a time frame in which to work, but I have.  Truly, this is preposterous because we simply cannot see the bigger picture of life.  When God looks at our lives, time constraints are of no matter from His side of heaven.  He sees it all – beginning to end – all at once and knows how the story ends.

We see merely snapshots of time.  Moments and blips on the radar.  I thought by now I had this one down pat.  That it is all about His timing, not mine, until I remind myself and God of plans we’ve made as a family once I am recovered – with little to no margin for extra time to recover.

Even my doctor cannot exactly tell me the day and time my foot will be 100% well.  God is the only one who knows all, and for that He has all my trust.

If you are like me, working on some inner and outer healing, take heart that God sees.  He knows.  He cares.  You and I are important to Him.  We matter.  Psalm 121 is a beautiful reminder that He is always present and working in our lives.

Psalm 121 – A song of ascents

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
    where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth.

3 He will not let your foot slip—
    he who watches over you will not slumber;
4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
    will neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The Lord watches over you—
    the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
6 the sun will not harm you by day,
    nor the moon by night.

7 The Lord will keep you from all harm—
    he will watch over your life;
8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going
    both now and forevermore.

Our job is to let Him work.  Sometimes that means surrendering the issue to Him.  Sometimes that means waiting in what feels like nothingness when He is working deep in our souls.  Sometimes it means doing our part of the healing, our home exercises if you will, including forgiving others and ourselves, trusting God in a new way, picking up our cross to follow Him, praying for the issue at hand, releasing the issue, moving as the Spirit prompts us to go, stop, wait, run, walk, make that phone call, write that letter, pack up or settle down.

Healing is miraculous in the long run, but can feel unbearable in the process.  Our faith is that we, as believers, never live a minute of it alone.  Jesus bore all of our illnesses and injuries on the cross.  It’s by His stripes we are healed (perhaps in ways we didn’t expect), and it is in Him that we have joy in the meantime.

Today, I am trading in my shoes of worry and angst, and fitting my feet with new shoes of peace.  One thing I know for sure, these shoes of peace are a lot more comfortable to wear.

<<Check out the companion song to this post on my Tunes page! >>

It’s All Good

I wrote the other day that I’ve had surgery recently.  Not to add insult to injury, but while my life has been temporarily upheveled, I decided to take care of some skin issues resulting from years of sun damage as a child because I figured I’d be home and out of public eye.  So in addition to my temporary disability, I now look horrible.  It’s one of those processes that gets worse before getting better.  I told the doctor, I’m just that vain enough to not want to go out in public until this is done.  Dignity is worth something, right?  It was the perfect plan to execute my makeover and no one would be the wiser.  I’d just show up in public one day with radiant skin and two legs that work just fine.  I’d make a subtle, yet grand, entrance like I’m some Hollywood star.  Ha!

On the morning after the skin procedure, my phone rang unexpectedly.  I must admit, with the surgery and life still blazing a trail at 100mph, I can’t keep everything straight.  Perhaps the anesthesia is still working its way out of me.  I don’t know.  I do know I’m fuzzy on details of the day.  When the phone rang, it was a precious mom from our Moms in Prayer group (I have only met these women once) saying she couldn’t find my house as she was en route for our prayer time.  I sat stunned.  I knew it was today, but in the midst of trying to get 3 kids out the door, 2 of them still finishing homework and one needing to be early to school, I just lost a grip on the day’s calendar.

I gave her directions to my home, knowing she was right around the corner, hung up and took a look around.  With Fall here, leaves are continually trekked into our house.  I usually vacuum several times a week to keep them out, but I can’t vacuum right now.  Opened birthday presents were on the fireplace, laundry was strewn about, and clutter was everywhere.

My family is trying hard to keep the ball rolling here, but with several unexpected things that seem to pop up every day, I know everyone is doing all they can. They are great helpers, but there is only 24 hours in a day – minus sleep.

I hobbled around the house in the few seconds I had to pick everything up.  There was just no way.  It was what it was.

Then there is me.  I’m a mess!  I really didn’t want anyone seeing me like this.  In fact, at the time the doorbell rang, I couldn’t remember if I had brushed my hair, much less had any make-up on.  Earlier, I chose an old, faded t-shirt to wear because of the high neckline to cover the skin procedure, and because of my surgical boot, I chose shorts that, although they are fairly new, the inside seam unraveled after the first wash, so there’s a big hole in my pants.  Not to mention my shoes.  One gigantic surgical boot and one brown sandal.  The doctor said I need to even out the height of the boot so my back doesn’t suffer from walking at two levels, so the only shoe that works is this old brown sandal (that in no way matched my shirts and shorts).

I met not one woman, but three ladies at the door and invited them in.  Welcome to my chaos! I said with a laugh.  I was SO embarrassed.

I’m not pretentious, nor do I feel I need to impress anyone.  But, at least let my house be clean when people come over.  At least let me have washed my face and put on decent clothes.

They were extremely gracious – even when one mom went into my kitchen and saw both sinks full of dirty dishes and some unknown sticky substance on the counter after the daily brigade of breakfasts and lunchboxes flew through like a tornado.

I just couldn’t get over being embarrassed.  Do I really care that much? I asked myself.  But, I never thought I did.  Why is this bothering me?  

Martha Stewart I am not.  We are a crazy house of 5 extroverts who use every square inch of its space.  Creative juices flow, and usually so does something my kids want to try to bake or a science experiment, or a string of our dog’s toys that makes it look like a preschooler lives here.

Mess.  This day, my house was a mess.  I was a mess. There was nothing I could do.

God met me in that moment and reminded me of something He told me a while back.  He said, This school year will be a year of healing for you.  But…it begins with brokenness.

He wasn’t kidding.  A broken foot it is.  At least, that all I thought He was talking about.

I didn’t realize that there may be other areas of my life that need to broken to be healed.  My foot needed to be broken so the problem could be fixed.  So does my heart.

God’s ways are different from mine, but His ways are right – every time.

This particular morning showed me that I want to be accepted and approved by people more than I should.  This was the first time these ladies were meeting at my home, to accommodate my surgery recovery, and it drove me nuts that I couldn’t create an atmosphere (or image) that everything is semi-perfect.

It’s not!  Life is not perfect!  The only bell and whistle I could do was light a cinnamon candle.  Whoopie.

I had to accept the fact that I look like a wreck, because physically I am one right now.  How humbling!

God brought me from a place of panic that they were on their way, to humility over what my house and myself looked like, to a place where I could see what was most important -prayer with other Christian moms for our kids and their schools.

To live like we are created in the image of God, we make choices to reflect Him in our words and deeds.  This requires a lot of dying to self.  Approval is an issue I’ve struggled with my whole life.  Every time God works with me on this, I feel His fingerprint on specific situations as a gentle reminder that He is not cruel or uncaring, aloof or oblivious.  He is acutely aware of our frailties and weaknesses, and He desires for each of us a life of victory.

Living in strength and victory means we are wise enough to discern a situation and respond (not react) to it according to what pleases God, not ourselves.  We can trust this process, because God promised He is working all thing good for His children.  It’s a precious circle of love.  When we break out of the circle and go our own way, we forfeit the blessing of having His workmanship revealed in our circumstance.

For me, I could barely concentrate on what we were praying about because of the state of my house and my body.  It really wasn’t pride, as much as it was me wanting these women’s approval that I am at least acceptable.

Truly, it’s only God’s acceptance that I need to crave.  When I have it from Him, I am full and satisfied.  Everything else is gravy.  When I fill my tank with people’s acceptance, I am constantly having to refill it because people, frankly, let each other down.  We don’t perform to each other’s expectations.  We love conditionally.  We forgive when we feel like it.  And we are selfish.  When we seek God’s favor first, He has freedom in our lives to set us up for success in other areas – like bringing good friends into our lives.  Friends who will come to us to pray, when we can’t go to them.

That morning was so uncomfortable for me.  But, the lesson I learned in it made me more pliable in the Potter’s hand.  A huge benefit to me was that I could scrap the embarrassment over my house and my body and welcome others into our home who have since brought us meals, and I’ve felt comfortable inviting them to sit and chat.  Even yesterday, a friend from church brought us dinner, and as we sat in the family room talking, 3 loads of laundry stared at us from the sofa just feet away.  Underwear and all!  I chose to embrace God’s acceptance of me and enjoy my visit with a dear friend who took the time to come see me.  I told her with a laugh, For a couple of weeks, this stuff really doesn’t matter.  It’ll get done eventually.

Also, I breached my own vow of solitude to attend my son’s football game yesterday.  I look like I have a plague, but who cares!  My son was playing football and my friends were going to be there.  Those two things were way more important to me.  Yes, I looked like a sports diva sitting in a chair with an overhead canopy AND an umbrella fastened to the chair to avoid all sun, and had another chair in front of me to prop my boot leg on.  I said to my friend, I wasn’t sure I was going to come, but I knew ya’ll would love me regardless of how I look.  She replied, Of course we do!  I wanted to show my son, the one who made the love note for me (in the photo above) and left it on my laptop as a surprise, that he was more important than my internal issues…because he is.

Today, between the endless, monotonous hours of icing and elevating my foot, I will shed more of my embarrassment as my family meets two of our favorite families for frozen yogurt to celebrate two birthdays between all of us. I love these families so much, and I know they love me back.  I can feel free to show up just like I am because they are family to us.  I wouldn’t miss the laughter, fun and memories we make every time we are together just so I can stay home and save face (literally!).  No way.  Life is too short.  People are too precious.  We have some very special girls who need to be sung Happy Birthday.  Memories are just waiting to be made. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.  I’ll even let myself be in the pictures…how about that!  This is largely in part to an incredible bog post I read recently by Allison Tate on the subject of having moms photographed despite ourselves. 🙂 Take a look! click here.

Yes.  This whole experience has taught me a lesson I didn’t know I needed to learn.  When we fully release ourselves to God, even the secret places, untapped possibilities await.  Whatever we’re holding onto, whatever holds us back, whatever holds us down, let’s release it.  Then, with open hands and an eager heart, we are prepared to receive the abundant blessings God wants to give us.  And that, friends, is healing for the body and soul.

Runoff or Resource?

I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.  Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD. ~ Psalm 27: 13-14

Muck.  That’s what it looked like.  I happened upon a highway runoff reservoir today that looked disgusting.  It was a slimy, muddy pit of brownish water and green algae.  Surrounding it was dead grass, a few shoots of weeds several feet tall and caution tape secluding this eyesore from the rest of the world.  Really, it was gross and appeared as though there was no value in it expect to catch the junk that runs off the road.  A place I wouldn’t want to dip my pinky toe.

However, what stopped me in my tracks, and gave me cause to pause, was something smack in the middle of this mess.  There, among the dreary, dirty, wasteland was a gorgeous, spotless, pure-white egret.  This magnificent bird stood knee-high in nastiness, but it wasn’t repulsed. Rather, it slowly walked around in it – pausing to look at me.

After a moment, it turned its head away from me and drew his wings out like a solider draws his sword.  He fluffed his wings in the air with grace and confidence.  It was beautiful.

My eyes were fixated on the large, snow-colored bird strutting its feathered wings while its webbed feet stood firmly planted in the brown, algae-filled water.

Ripples.

That’s what those beautiful wings made in the mess.  Rings and rings echoing each other as they spread farther and farther across the lifeless water in slow, rhythmic motion.

I wasn’t sure why I was captivated with this sight until the Lord whispered to me, That’s Me.  When life gets messy, and there is nothing beautiful about it; when everywhere you look is draped in what seems to be hopeless turmoil, I am in the middle of it.  I give you grace and confidence to believe My hope that life has more purpose than to only catch the runoff.

I watched the egret for a while, pondering what I had heard.  The ripples of its wings symbolizes the many ways in which the hand of God works in us and through us to touch others.

Without the bird, that man-made collection pond was stagnant and smelly.  With the bird, it became a resource.  I want my life, no matter how messy, to have God’s resplendent grace and confidence stirring the stationary waters of my soul.  I want His hand to create ripples in my life that reflect His love and mercy.

No life is a waste.  No life is hopeless.  With God in the middle of it, doing His miraculous thing that He does so well, every soul can be blessed and be a blessing.

I needed that today.  It’s no coincidence that just an hour earlier He led me to read Psalm 27. Verses 13 & 14 are two of my favorite in the entire Bible.  God knows exactly where I am today, and He took time in running the universe to remind me of His Word, His faithfulness, and the effect He can have on a life – no matter what my eyes see.  He sees hope, promise and potential.

Lord, please step into the middle of my muck and grace me with Your power, unconditional love and faithfulness.  May it ripple from me to others.  Amen.

A First Day For All of Us

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. ~ Philippians 4: 6-8

Today, I join the ranks of mothers everywhere sending their children off to school for another year.  As much as I am excited about this day, it is bittersweet.  For three years, I treasured homeschooling two of my children (before that, all 3 of them attended private school).  Now, my middle schoolers are catching the big yellow bus with backpacks slung over their shoulders and offering me a smile goodbye.  My oldest begins another year of high school, and that means college is a year closer.  Be still my heart.

I’m transitioning all over again – finding my place in the world.  I will have to get used to being without my kids during the day; to the quiet – which has its pros and cons.

As mixed as I feel about our new phase of life (happy for them & sad for me) I must choose which attitude I will wear today as real as I choose my clothes.  I choose to look at the good in the day.  The sad moments will come, and that’s okay.  But, I can’t live in the sadness.  God has given me too much to be joyful about that deserves to be celebrated.  So, I’ll let the tears fall, but I am turning my eyes and ears to what are His gifts of joy which are meant to be enjoyed.  I will unwrap each of them them slowly, thoughtfully and hold them close to my heart.  And I will be thankful in all things.

Blessings I count today…

* God is with me every step on this amazing journey of parenthood.  He is always caught up to my life, so at any moment I can talk to Him and know He gets it.

* My children are healthy and have an opportunity for a great education.

* They are excited about school.

* God’s provision to send them with new school supplies.  We are grateful.

* My sweet husband understands this is a tricky time for me and accepts that moodiness comes with the territory.

* My dog that will shadow me because she will miss them almost as much as I do.

* Finishing projects that have waited for years for attention.

* Caring for my family.

* Caring for others.

* My 2 new neighbors, who have quickly become new friends – invited me on a walk after everyone left for the day.  Fun!

* All of my friends and time to catch up with them.  They have been so tender toward me with prayers, texts, FB, emails and conversations – knowing this school year is a new normal for me.  I have the BEST friends in the entire world!!

* Flexibility

* Rest

* Work

* Play

* Tending

* Healing

* Writing

* Breathing

* Knowing that not knowing who I am now is okay.  Transition takes time.

* Leftover chocolate chip pancakes that I got up before sunrise to make today by special request.

* The smell of my perfume lingering in the bathroom from my daughter who wanted to wear a little today.

* The sound of jazz music still playing in the family room from my youngest son who wanted it to help calm his jitters.

* The aroma of homemade pasta sauce simmering for a “comfort food” meal tonight to celebrate the completion of the first day.

* So happy that I was able to slip Scripture into each of their notebooks for encouragement.  I fell asleep too quickly last night to do it, but got it done between flipping pancakes and waking up those who overslept! (Scriptures I used – Philippians 4:13, Philippians 1:6 & Proverbs 3: 5-6)

* Tears of joy and sorrow

* Laughter

* New beginnings

* God’s peace that is beyond my understanding.

* Anticipating my children back in the nest at the end of the day.

* Sharing all of this with my husband, my best friend.

Yep.  There is much to be excited about, and I don’t want to miss a second of any of it.  Think I’ll go eat a pancake. And I will be thankful. 🙂