Another Tardy Monday Post

When the sting of looking back and letting go meets the moving forward and embracing of a new road,

and when the doubt gives way to trust,


and when the bouy of my flesh swayed by every wind remembers that it's attached to an unmoving, unchanging Anchor,

I remember that God is always good, always faithful, and always there.

And when I think about it, God's too good, really, just too good. We just simply.don't.deserve. where He has us and what He's given us.

My intense battle with doubt that left me breathless and fearful looks so silly now. But God embraced me in my doubt and pointed out His goodness along the way giving me the ability to step out into a new direction and deal with the early weeks of the husband's absence and seeing somebody else drive our tool truck.

And us in this white collar world? Oh it's quite laughable. Me with dirt under my fingernails and deepest aspirations to sell at the Farmer's Market. Me bathing a dirty, stinky German Shepherd puppy in the kiddie pool.

And him in love with his tractor and no hobbies other than work.

And when he asks me, "Aren't you glad we took the risk?" I wanna laugh and ask, "And just what risk are you referring to? The risk to love each other? The risk to do that whole Marine Corps thing? The risk to get out and do the civilian thing? The risk to start up a business with 2 six month olds and me not working? The risk to lay it all out there and go toe to toe with corporate?"

Yes. I would risk it all again, with you and for you. From the moment we shook hands with those people putting us into business, I knew we would end up here. And I know you knew it, too. Some things don't have to be said.

But some things do. Because if we don't say them, we might stop feeling them.

So I'm saying this and linking it up over HERE.

God, this is all straight from You:

#346. the sting of doubt that reminds me of my true security
#347. that deep down feeling where you know, even when everything around screams the opposite
#348. the sight of a tool truck deep in a Wisconsin woods
#349. the discussion with him about not half-doing anything, even and especially the things we don't want to do
#350. embracing the stings making the joys that much sweeter

Stirring It Up

Stirring up the words, today, that have settled. All the posts unwritten, all the thoughts unexpressed, all the memories tucked in corners.....the things I want to say here, the things I need to say here laying dormant and unused like old paint in the bottom of a paint can.

And I could toss it all out, pretend all those drafted posts aren't there, allow all the thoughts that require the kneading and rising of this place to lay immature in the recesses of my heart. But instead I'm going to stir it up, mixing the seperated parts, until it's all smooth and cohesive.

I want to be here more. Only five posts in September aggravates me in a way I can't explain. But so many things call for my attention. And how does one do it all? The work, the fun, the traditional, the seasonal? All while making it meaningful and working to ground our children in this place called home? All while trying to use the moments intentionally and not let them slip through our fingers in a hurry to get to the next moment?

For the first time since I was 16, I do not have a paying job. This is all by my choice, and I am very happy to be in this place, but I have never worked harder or longer in my life.

And I've come to see that there's a fine line between our work being our idol and our work being our worship. It can all be done for God, or it can all be done for me. The lists can be a tool in my hands or a god that I serve.

I wish I could give credit to the person that said this, but I simply cannot remember where I read it. But these words I will never forget: "Work is not a part of the curse. Unproductive work is part of the curse." Tidying, cleaning, tending, sowing, gathering, tilling, organizing, analyzing, learning.....it's what we were created to do. And I believe that our work is a part of our worship. But completing a task and turning only moments later to see the floor again dirty, the face again grimy, the email list again full with the unreplied, the garden again weedy, the solution discovered now insufficient.....this is a part of the curse, a part of the the fall. It aggravates, it frustrates, it grates against us because God never intended for us to experience unproductive work.

We are living under a curse, and this realization oddly helps. In those moments when I'm late to be somewhere and the dog again dug up the landscaping after I just fixed it and a toddler's shoe tumbles all the way to the bottom of the staircase and the sink is full of dirty dishes only a few hours after I just washed them all and the dryer is beeping at me, I look up and mutter, "Really, God?" But it's not God's perceived lack of help that I fight against, it's not fate that I'm helpless to, it's not karma that I've upset. No, I am daily working against a curse, the consequences we all face for that first sin.

I once read that the idea of tithing, giving God 10% at a bare minimum, was not just meant for money. Nor does it imply some pharisitical approach to life where I weigh out a tenth of every spice and ignore God's heart in the matter. Rather, what if I were to give back to God a tenth not just of our money but also of my time and ideas?

{imagine if I hadn't shot this through a dirty window}

Tithing implies stewardship, that I take appropriate ownership of what I have and fully realize from Whom it came. And when I acknowledge the Giver of all this and when I take stock of what's there, it's only natural to give a portion back, knowing that even 2 small fish and 5 small loaves is a feast for thousands in God's hands. So then, if work is worship, then only naturally and rightfully would also be the giving back of the fruit of our work.

And if a stream of ideas float through my head as a part of my work in raising children, in homemaking, in being a helpmate to my husband then shouldn't I also assess the Giver of these ideas and take subsequent ownership of them? When so many ideas flow through my mind for ways, as a District Manager's wife, to include the wives and families of all our dear distributers should I not push back the fatigue, the desire to keep my time for myself, and the fear of what others may think in order to make at least a portion of those ideas happen? And when countless thoughts run through this head, thoughts that sort out seeing God in this life, should I not at least set aside the time to let a portion of those thoughts run out through my fingers onto this screen?

Finally, when the cohesion of thoughts just won't happen in one post, I turn back to counting, picking up where I left off, a summer's worth of thanks and grace and blessings tucked inside this heart.

And I will link up over at A Holy Experience this time, because Ann is nice enough to leave the linky open for many days, not just Monday, because I just can't seem to publish a post on a Monday.

There's a whole bunch of us counting our blessings over HERE this week.

#331. the crunch of leaves under foot

#332. catching up with favorite blogs

#333. being challenged and inspired with every.single.post

#334. the smell of freshly washed wispy blonde toddler hair

#335. the bittersweet feeling of knowing I can't call them toddlers for much longer

#336. the way the little girl hooks her arm around mine when I hold her

#337. the husband trying so hard to make the family photo shoot work

#338. the reminder on Sunday morning to stir it up, to not let it settle

#339. walk-running the dog during an October sunset in shorts and a t-shirt

#400. the way the little girl tries so hard to like tomatoes

What God Chose to Give

The humidity was so.very.intense. The air felt thick enough to cut with a knife.

It was oppressive, and I found it hard to breath.

But I realized it wasn't the heaviness of the air that was causing my laborious breathing. I was, in fact, sitting in a comfortable air-conditioned building.

Something was wrapping sticky tentacles around my chest and clamping down. Something wanted me to abandon trust, hope, and faith. Something wanted me to worry, feel sorry for myself, and succumb to anxiousness. Something wanted me to see the past as perfect, the present as painful, and the future as foreboding.

I just wanted to push away the feelings, to pretend they weren't there, but I knew that would only give strength to this something. I knew I had to face this something, to call it out, give it a name, and give it to God.

I also knew that facing this something meant facing myself, facing the possibility of mistake or failure; it meant facing a decision we had just made - the one we felt God leading us to; it meant facing the loss of what was now our past.

I left the comfort of AC and walked through the sun-sorched parking lot, beads of sweat forming before the door even closed behind me. I jumped into the vehicle, my body welcoming the AC again. And after only a few short miles home, I again transitioned from AC to uncomfortable heat to AC.

The heat seems worse when you jump from heat to comfort to heat to comfort. What if I closed off the door to comfort behind me? What if I just embraced the heat instead of hiding from it?

Have I become too used to the comfort, to the usual, to the routine? The jovial customers, the happy site of the tool truck rolling into the yard, the pride of self-employment.....

The business that was once so new had now become commonplace. The husband-toolman so good he no longer had to try. The routine of the weeks so reliable I could plan through them with ease.

Of course we still needed God. Who doesn't? I had prayed for the husband, for protection and honesty. I had prayed for the business, that it would be marked with integrity. I had prayed for the customers, that no purchase would ever put them into financial hardship but rather blessing. And I knew.....that on Mondays this happened, on Tuesdays this happened, on Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays.....this is what would happen and I could plan, sculpt, and schedule our days with ease.

It was time to face the heat again, the heat of traveling a new road and of giving up the familiar. And it was time to face the heat inside me; the something that was clamping down on me.

It was doubt. Just doubt. All those "what if's" going through my mind proved that it was doubt.

What if we heard God wrong?

What if this all one huge mistake?

What if this isn't best for our family?

What about our business?

What if.....?

What if.....?

And really, what if? Is there any "what if" that God doesn't already know about?


And "what if" I just focus on what got us to this point, what we believe God chose to give, instead of focusing on all the "what if's" in the future? The list of things, the open doors, the heart preparations that brought us here show me clearly that this is the path we are to walk right now.

And "what if" our business was never meant for us? What if we were just supposed to build it, keep it, grow it until it's real owner was ready for it?

What if this is just another step, another learning curve, another life lesson along our journey? What if it doesn't matter who thinks this is wrong or crazy or right?

So really, what if?

Doubt, I know you. I know what you feel like. I've faced you now, and I'm moving on.

God, here's my doubt.

So, I face the feelings and move past them, allowing myself to feel them fully, to sit in the heat and sweat it out, but not giving them an inch to move me.

Because this thing that God chose to give us really is a blessing even when it seems that in the same motion that God gave He also took away. Even in the blessing, there's a wilderness before me, and I feel the weight of the responsibility that comes with the extra measure.

The heat of the day is still so intense, but its effect on me is subdued. Someday the refreshing cool will come again, but for now, I'm gonna seal the lid down on this pressure cooker to see what the heat brings.

I stand before this next wilderness choosing to believe that God brought us here even though it doesn't always make sense. I look back and realize it's been around a year since I emerged from the previous wilderness. With a tot holding each hand, I take inventory of all I've learned from each previous wilderness I've walked.  I take hold of this new measure of talents, not shirking at the unkown, knowing my routine is gonna get messed up, knowing there are gonna be hard days,  remembering the words I spoke for the next distributor that I also secretly spoke for us:

"It's not just about surviving the moments, surviving the uncertainty and waiting for the clarity. It’s about living right through it all, it’s about learning from it all, and it’s in knowing that these messy, crazy, uncertain moments are the ones that make us who we are.

To letting go...

To taking risks...

To ignoring the path of least resistance...

To this beautiful, messy life….

And even more importantly, to the One True God who’s in it all: He made it all, He’s orchestrating it all. May He get all the glory...

Semper Fi."

Semper Fi. Semper Fidelis. Always faithful.

God, find us faithful once again.

What God Chooses to Give {Unabridged}

{an unabridged re-post. original post and list here}

I don't know what I am going to make for supper tonight.

That's quite unlike me. The menu hanging on the fridge is from last week.

But not knowing what to make for supper tonight is not the only uncertainty in life. And we ask for God to give us clarity and confidence and the next big thing....

Not only do I not know what I will be feeding my family tonight, but I don't know what we will be feeling tonight. It will either be celebration or disappointment. Either way, after tonight, we will be able to move on, and I guess that's all that really matters. After 2 months, it will be nice to just know.

“bend the knee and be small and let God give what God chooses to give..."

I read those words over at A Holy Experience, and my head knows it's true. I try to impress them on my heart because my head is tired.

Let God give what God chooses to give

I call the husband and ask him what time they are meeting to decide our fate. And he says 3:00 our time. He's already got his eyes set on the time. And I can hear it in his voice; fatigue after a busy, fun wedding weekend, emotional exhaustion after 2 months of courting a large company for a new position that he was asked to apply for, restrained anticipation for this evening's decision.  We didn't pursue this on our own, the opportunity fell in our lap, and now we wait.

"I'll let you know as soon as I know."

"Okay......I love you."

Let God give what God chooses to give

So I snap some asparagus out of the backyard patch and try to decide which to thaw out, venison, pork, or turkey.

The wind blows and the birds sing and the washing machine chugs and the kids play and tussle.....and the clock ticks.

Do we really want to give up our business for this opportunity?

What will God choose to give?  And how we will receive what He gives?

The tots play in the fence swinging on their tummies, throwing stuff in the kiddie pool, and yelling at each other over little disagreements. They only see what they want in that moment; they don't see the bigger picture. They don't see what Mom and Dad do. They don't fully understand that every "yes" and "no" we tell them is usually thought through what will best launch them into their future. And if I do this for my kids, how much more does God do this for me, to launch me into eternity?

He never holds back with His giving. His kingdom budget is driven by love not limitation. And what He gives in love may not make sense right now, but right now is not what matters. Tomorrow is not what matters. Eternity is what matters. And these twists and turns of today are only given to shape us for what matters.

Let God give what God chooses to give

Some days it seems my tots are never satisfied, never done wanting, needing.... always asking for that next thing. And even though it's my job right now to meet their needs and I typically enjoy doing so, I just want them to see what they already have, that they have so much, are so full........just be thankful....

And so I see that learning to receive and learning to be full of thanks are gifts in and of themselves. And I see that God gives this too......the ability to name those things when the uncertainty is nearly choking.

So God gives and we receive and we know that every good and perfect gift is from Him.

{Not linking up today but still counting. This week's gratitude post right HERE over at A Holy Experience.}

#321. finally knowing
#322. that a roller coaster of emotions does not phase God
#323. eating platefuls of garden produce
#324. toddlers happily splashing in the water
#325. beach towels
#326. sand between toes
#327. watching God work it all out:
#328. eleven interviews
#329. the husband just catching the flight he should have missed
#330. a new distributor to take over

Finished {also known as the Loaded Post}

The sky is getting dark.

There's a storm brewing up, and every now and then I can hear a low rumble of thunder in the distance over the William Joseph mix I've got cranked on Pandora.

The husband is not home yet. But it's really okay. It's his last day on the truck. {More on that in a later post...or two...or three...and actually, I've already hinted at it.} That's a tough thing to explain to the kids, and it makes me a little teary.....even though it's all good. It's not the risk and the unknown and the new-ness that gets me; it's the looking back and letting go.

By this time of the evening, I have a really hard time not focusing on all the things I didn't get done today. Even if I've had a great day, it's hard for me to see past the undone, the re-done, the never done, the forgotten.

But as I sit here typing this while the kids eat supper and compare notes on who did the most dangerous thing in the bathtub ("I dunked my head!"  "I put my face in the water!"  "I swam on my tummy!"), I realize how ridiculous I sound. I just pulled a pan of bars out of the oven and popped in two loaves of homemade french bread. I made zucchini muffins (again) this morning for breakfast, and after a picnic breakfast outside where we pretended the dog didn't lick the butter, the kids helped me do some much needed cleaning around here (which ended up only being dusting in 2 rooms of the house and cleaning the kitchen/dining room/front entry floor).

I then had the crazy idea to take the kids to the local horticulture gardens and stop on the way for ice cream cones.....with sprinkles. Did you know that melting ice cream is a lot more messy when its dragging sticky spinkles with it down your child's hand, onto his/hers clothes, and finally onto the carseat?

The kids decided they just didn't want the ice cream (??) so I was left with 3 baby-sized sprinkle cones to eat myself. And then we spent some time at the gardens in the near 90 degree heat with no breeze whatsoever.

So after all that plus the normal things I do each day, how can I really expect to get more done? And why is there always this nagging what-I-didn't-get-done mental list at the end of every day?

When I feel like this, I can't help but remember something I read in a book that I went through at my moms' Bible study last year.  There was, what the author considered, a lie with a corresponding truth.

Lie: I don't have time to do everything I'm supposed to do.
Truth: There is time in every day to do everything that God wants me to do.

And I still can't fully wrap my mind around this one. But the author drove home this thought by pointing out that Jesus accomplished everything God wanted Him to do. Jesus said, "I have glorified You on the earth. I have finished the work which You have given me to do" (John 17:4).

At first it's easy to say, "Well of course Jesus finished the work. He's God!"

But Jesus did not heal every cripple, every lame, every ill.....He did not cast out every demon....He did not purge Israel of the Romans.....He did not do what everyone thought he should do.

If anyone had a reason to feel weighed down by the undone and never-done, it was Jesus. But even with the sick still lining the streets, and the scoffers still lurking in the corners, and the Romans still galavanting around, He said, "I have finished the work which You have given me to do."

And I really don't know what this looks like. How is this truth suppose to play out in the reality of my life? How, how, how do I fully realize God's to-do list for my day so that I can end the day knowing I finished the work which He has given me to do?

It dawns on me as I wonder all these things that maybe it's not about what I do. Maybe it's not about a to-do list. Maybe the answer is right there.

 "I have glorified You on the earth. I have finished the work which You have given me to do" (John 17:4).

Maybe that's it. There will always be the struggle of balancing household duties with wifely duties with motherhood duties with stupid, crazy, expensive, fun hobbies. But maybe it's not about acheiving the perfect balance so much as it is about glorifying God while daily working to find the balance.

I dunno. But that would be just like God......to put the answer right there....to make it simple.

So I wonder what my life will look like now that I've quit my job {more on that in another post}. What will those extra 8-16 hours a week look like for me?

And with the toys still lining the floors and the dust still lurking in the corners and the half-dressed toddlers still galavanting around, can I say "I have finished the work you have given me to do?"

What God Chooses to Give {Abridged}

I don't know what I am going to make for supper tonight.

That's quite unlike me. The menu hanging on the fridge is from last week.

But not knowing what to make for supper tonight is not the only uncertainty in life. And we ask for God to give us clarity and confidence and the next big thing. But what does God want to give?

“bend the knee and be small and let God give what God chooses to give..."

I read those words over at A Holy Experience, and my head knows it's true. I try to impress them on my heart because my head is tired.

Let God give what God chooses to give

So I snap some asparagus out of the backyard patch and try to decide which to thaw out, venison, pork, or turkey.

The wind blows and the birds sing and the washing machine chugs and the kids play and tussle.....and the clock ticks.

What will God choose to give?

And how we will receive what He gives?

The tots play in the fence swinging on their tummies, throwing stuff in the kiddie pool, and yelling at each other over little disagreements. They only see what they want in that moment; they don't see the bigger picture. They don't see what Mom and Dad do. They don't fully understand that every "yes" and "no" we tell them is usually thought through what will best launch them into their future. And if I do this for my kids, how much more does God do this for me, to launch me into eternity?

He never holds back with His giving. His kingdom budget is driven by love not limitation. And what He gives in love may not make sense right now, but right now is not what matters. Tomorrow is not what matters. Eternity is what matters. And these twists and turns of today are only given to shape us for what matters.

Let God give what God chooses to give

Some days it seems my tots are never satisfied, never done wanting, needing.... always asking for that next thing. And even though it's my job right now to meet their needs and I typically enjoy doing so, I just want them to see what they already have, that they have so much, are so full........just be thankful....

And so I see that learning to receive and learning to be full of thanks are gifts in and of themselves. And I see that God gives this too......the ability to name those things when the uncertainty is nearly choking.

So God gives and we receive and we know that every good and perfect gift is from Him.

Back to counting again (this post a week old) and linking up HERE with the others receiving it all from Him.

#266. a quiet day after the busy wedding weekend
#267. standing up as best man and matron of honor for the couple
#268. Ava the flower girl

#269. Jack (and cousin) the ringbearers

#270. thinking the same thing at the same time as the husband more and more and more
#271. just him and I together on the couch cuddling after.....how long?
#272. getting a fancy up do for my hair
#273. rhubarb slush
#274. shells with chips and holes at the wedding representing those days with chips and holes

#275. perfect shells at the wedding representing those perfect days
#276. long red dresses
#277. uniforms
#278. tuxes
#279. the father-in-law's solos
#280. tears
#281. love
#282. eye contact
#283. Grandma and Grandpa helping take care of the tots so mom and dad could tend to best man and matron of honor duties

#284. Jack-Hammer wanting to dance every dance with momma....while be held
#285. the Best Man handing a Nuk to the groom instead of the rings
#286. uncertainty bringing us all closer
#287. the Best Man and groom changing into Khaki's and white button down shirts and looking just as amazing
#288. grandparents caravaning with the wedding party....Did they even know? Too funny....
#289. mothers in fancy dresses looking their best
#290. the moon shimmering on the lake

An Exercise of Belief

Sometimes I'm tempted to think that the little things that make me smile, that make my heart heave a little sigh of happiness, are simply coincidences or natural occurrences or just me groping for something new to fill my list.

The honk of a lone goose overhead as I wrestle wriggly tots in jammies? Well....all geese are on the move this time of year. This is their natural migratory path. Wouldn't it just be silly to see that as a gift from God for me in this moment?

Hitting the brakes while backing out of the garage unknowingly only 12 inches from smashing into my mom's little bitty car with my giant gas-guzzler?  I always brake and turn at a certain spot while backing out of the garage. It was just a coincidence that I didn't smash into her while I was busy at thought.....right?

But if I attempt to avoid "over-spiritualizing" the every day, aren't I engaging in disbelief?

It almost seems that belief is a spectrum ranging from believing in one God (which even the demons do - James 2:19 - and their eternal destiny is certainly not desirable), to believing that the one God loves me, to believing that He sent His son to die for me, to believing that this one God is personally and actively involved in my life right now. He's big enough to create and orchestrate it all, yet He's "small" enough to focus on me. He's not too big to be that small and He's not too small to be that big.....He's just I AM.

So I will not let what the world seems to cloud over what the world really is. I don't want to engage in unbelief at any point of the spectrum, and I sort of understand what the man meant who said "Lord I believe; help my unbelief" (Mark 9:24).

This is not just some Pollyanna Glad Game. This is an exercise of belief, choosing to acknowledge as more than fate or coincidence or "natural" occurrence the expressions of God's love for me in the every day.

#241. signs of life in most of my new shrubs planted last year
#242. the smell of tomato plants
#243. the first rhododendron bloom
#244. raised strawberry bed built and in the garden
#243. the little girl coloring all day
#244. the little girl dancing when she's not coloring
#245. the little boy jumping his plastic motorcycle over all the frost heaves in the driveway
#246. the puppy sleeping on the doorstep
#247. clearing out the asparagus patch
#248. sweeping out the garage
#249. the 2 brunettes
#250. making plans to go to Lu's Greenhouse!
#251. barefoot children
#252. a few days of heat
#253. the whir of ceiling fans stiring up the air
#255. the relentless wind trying to dry us out again

When the Rooster Crows

The palm branches are visible underfoot, trampled and bruised, but still bearing evidence to the entry of the King only a few days earlier.

In the excitement, in the hustle and bustle, in the movement of the mob, did anyone wonder why the King of all came not on a stallion or a Lexus or a Mercedes but rather chose to come in on a humble donkey?

As people squeazed close to get a look, to toss their branch, to lay their cloak; as emotions ran high and spines tingled, did anyone wonder what a commitment to follow this King might look like?

Yes it was joyous to praise the King when everybody was doing it, when it was trendy, when it was "in." But how many of the people who shouted "Hosanna!" and tossed their branches with the mob at the beginning of the week (John 12:12-13), shouted "Crucify Him!" and crushed the branches beneath their feet with the mob at the end of the week (John 19:5-16)?

How do I react to the King when He's not in fashion? Am I following Him, or am I following the mob?

And when the rooster crows, what regrets will I have? (Matt 26:33-35, 69-75)

The Wink

I have big goals for today.

My list includes grocery shopping in the "big city" an hour away in one direction and picking up the meat we had processed in the little town 15 minutes away in the other direction.....and all of this with the kids in tow. Plus, I want to stay on top of my usual Monday tasks.

One short little paragraph, just a few words, adds up to a big day for this mom.

But I will not be so short-sighted as to miss God's winks today.

Winks? 

Yesterday in church, our worship director shared a short devotional written by the president of Youth for Christ. I tried to find the actual devotion online but couldn't. I am assuming it could be found in THIS BOOK that has this great description:

FRAGMENTS Pieces of everyday life. The seemingly mundane and normal. But....what if you viewed the fragments of life with a divine perspective? You would be amazed to discover how God uses moments throughout your day to encourage, challenge, teach, and draw you closer to Himself.

In this book, you'll find yourself inspired by Dan's ability to connect The Almighty and His divine plan with the fragmented occurences of life. Work, marriage, family, and play all provide a unique perspective on life and relationship to God. Dan's honest reflections and confessions will challenge you to see how God is already at work in your life.

Anyway, the simple devotion talked about how this busy president would catch his wife's eye across a room during a gathering. Their eyes would hold for a second and she would wink, telling him without words that she was holding him in her heart. In a similar way during hectic days, he learned to notice God's "winks" at him - wordless moments in the day where he knew God was expressing His love. A brilliant sunset, a baby's innocent stare at the grocery store - just little things that this man learned to see as evidence of God's love for him.

This is not deep theology here, nothing earth-shattering here.....although God's love for us did nearly shatter the earth when Jesus hung on the cross, took his last breath, and the earth shook, tearing the veil to the Holy of Holies in half, allowing us all to experience the presence of God. (Matt 27:50-51)

God's love for us is bigger than we can fully grasp, being ultimately displayed in His Son dying the worst of deaths for us. Yet God is also intimately personal, expressing His love in a million little ways every day.

I'm on a journey to find just 1000 of those things.

So I'm counting a few of His winks today:

#201. a family walk on a springy Sunday afternoon ("springy" being used in it loosest sense here)

#202. watching the joy of tots throwing rocks in ditch water

#203. much less snow that a week ago!

#204. a cooler week to slow the melt down and reduce/prevent flooding

#205. mud!

#206. grass starting to peek through the snow!

Still

When there aren't any fancy words, when winter is back with all of it's furry, there's still grace.  When it's the end of the day, and I still hear the hum of both the washer and the dryer that have been washing clothes since 6:30am, God is still here.

When plans were thwarted due to 15 inches of snow today, still God's goodness is evident.

When I've washed dishes countless times today and yet there's still more to do, and when there's still one more bed to make after washing all the sheets, still I will count and look for God's fingerprints of grace in my life.

Because in the seemingly ordinary and mondane, He's here sanctifying me, molding me into the person He's created me to be, and it's simply beautiful how He uses the cyclical, ladder-climbing-world-looking-down-upon tasks of homemaking to change my heart.

And when I want to scream out the door, "I am sick of winter!", when I can't find one more reason to be genuinely thankful for snow or winter, still God is creator and Master of the universe.

When the husband got up at 4:30 am and spent the next 4-5 hours moving snow, still to be snowed-in because our road is the last to be plowed and our tool truck would not make most of it's stops today, still God is master of our time and we were all blessed with bonus family time.

When the husband finally takes the tool truck to town and only has less than 4 hours left in his work day, still God is truly provider as He gives us one of our better days in tool sales and sends the husband home on time with a bursting cash drawer.

Still God is good, still God is provider, still God is here....

and still I count, adding to a list started 2 weeks ago but not yet posted...
#151. all the sparkles of new snow reflecting the sun
#152. bright blue sky
#153. the way God brings beauty out of ashes
#154. chipping ice off of sidewalks
#155. dry sidewalks to walk on
#156. mud puddles for tots to splash in with...
#157. new rain boots from Uncle Matt and...
#158. new rain pants from Nanna & Poppa
#159. a productive Saturday
#160. a quiet, relaxing Sunday
#161. a little boy 95% potty trained!!!!!!!
#162. extra family time due to being snowed in
#163. an outstanding, nearly personal record breaking 4 hour work day for the husband
#164. the way God seems to look for any excuse to keep His promises and pour out blessing (Mal 3:10)
#165. the way God seems to stretch the minutes we decide to use slowly and intentionally

Sometimes

Sometimes life is an uphill climb.

Sometimes you're not quite sure if you will make it to the top of the mountain.

 

Sometimes you feel like you might be sliding backwards.

Sometimes life seems very out of focus.



And sometimes all you can do is crawl.

Sometimes you wonder if people are looking down on you.

 Sometimes the path in front of you looks a little treacherous.

And each step is a struggle.

But when you get to the point where you can look back, you'll see that there was Someone Bigger with you every step of the way.

"For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord.

They are plans for good and not for disaster,

to give you a future and a hope."

Jeremiah 29:11 



Textured

I run my hand along our new wall. It's flawless. You can do just about anything with sheet rock, and it really doesn't matter what it looks like when it goes up....if you have someone who knows how to do a good job of taping and mudding. And that just makes me think of him...of them...and it hurts.

I run downstairs to fetch some garden potatoes out of the basement, and I have to step over the little pile of sheet rock compound that he spilled and that I stilled hadn't cleaned up. And I think about him, them, again...and it hurts.

The furnace kicks in, that quiet hum that is so comforting, the air that somehow gets heated from the ground even when it's this cold out. I dunno...he explained it all to my husband, and my husband tried to explain it to me again, but I still don't get it. All I know is, he fixed it, and every time that thing kicks in, I think of him...of them...and it hurts some more.

I bundle up my tots and put that hat on the girl, that hat that he gave her when she broke her arm. And my heart turns to him...to them...and I just want to cry.

I walk out to the shed with the kids and glance over at the spot that marks our septic system's lift pump. A year ago he came over in the dark and cold and helped my husband dig down through over three feet of snow to fix something. And again my thoughts are of him...of them...and there's that pang of hurt.

My hand stops on the new wall and my eyes focus on the texturing.....the texturing that he did. And you guessed it. I'm reminded of him...of them...and my heart is aching...for him...for them.

Why do people want little bumps on their walls anyway? Why don't we want it perfectly smooth?

Why can't life be perfectly smooth?

Why can't I stop hurting? Why are there constantly tears in the back of these eyes?

But every pang of hurt, every stinging tear leads to a prayer. Earlier on, during that dark day, that hurt and those tears would send me to my knees praying the blood of Jesus, asking for mercy, pleading for that grace that moves mountains. I go to sleep and still the hurt is there, and her face is there, stained with tears, in my dreams.

What's wrong with me? Why am I so affected?

Would I wish away these hurts and tears? Would I want these little "bumps" to be made smooth?

But are not these aches, these bumps, the very things that drive me to pray? The things that remind me of him...of them...become the very things that cause me to breath prayer for him...for them.

And when there are no more words, I know that the "bumps" of hurt textured across my heart are prayers in and of themselves.

"For we do not know what we should

pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself

makes intercession for us

with groanings which cannot be uttered."

Romans 8:26

And this is how I will let it be. I will let God texture my heart with prayers for others. And when the miracles start rolling in for him...for them...then thanks will be added to the layers.

The heaviness is gone now.

Thankful now for the miracles, for the life saved, for the mobility preserved, for the path to recovery embraced. 

And excited now to go see him...to go see them...tomorrow.

God Turned Into a Baby

I'm not sure why, but I don't feel like Christmas. We've done most of the usual Christmas things. The tree is up and decorated with ornaments that all tell stories. There are lights on evergreens outside and on the deck. I've baked a little and decorated Christmas cookies. We cut out snowflakes and made homemade wrapping paper. I've sent and received Christmas cards. I've read countless Christmas stories to the kids and sang almost every Christmas carol I can think of. We've had Christmas music playing so much I can hardly stand to listen to it anymore.

But where is that "feeling?"

In my effort to live intentionally, where did I loose that Christmas "feeling?"

I know the cliches...I've heard them since I was born. And I believe them.

Jesus is the reason for the season.

Let's keep Christ in Christmas.

And I'm the President of the "Merry Christmas" club who refuses to use the term "holidays." (My *favorite* Christmas card that I've seen so far says "Merry Everything!" Gag me. Being politically correct is like trying to.......never mind, I digress.)

And it hurts me to think that maybe I've known and firmly believed these things for so long that they no longer hold me in awe or inspire me.

My mind drifts back to a conversation I had with the little girl last night while making popcorn chains for the birds. We were talking about Jesus coming to earth on Christmas, and Ava says,

"God turned into a baby."

I'm struck by what she says and wonder if it's irreverent. But without getting into a theological discourse on the Trinity, I just nod...and ponder.

And then only today I read these words at one of my favorite blogs:

"I think of the Word made flesh and the God who created the universe contained in a body like this, a scrap of seven-something pounds who struggles to hold up his head and needs every need cared for, who relies entirely on others for every want."

(I strongly encourage you to read the entire post at These Three Remain by clicking HERE.)

And I really think about it. God, who knows all, sees all, is everywhere, and is all-powerful, became one of the most needy things on earth, a newborn baby, in order to save us.

He's a King, yet He humbled himself to a helpless infant with poor parents sleeping in a barn.

He's the Creator of Universe, yet He came to earth to wash feet and walk dusty roads and make friends with undesirable people.

How could this really be His plan to redeem us? Why this way? It seems so backwards.....but maybe it's just us that are backwards.

I think about those words again, words spoken only just this past Sunday.

"In the Beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and Word was God...and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us." John 1:1, 14a

And on top of coming to earth as tiny newborn, He lived.....to die....the most humiliating way....on a cross...to take away my sin.

That's the wonder of Christmas. Once again, my feelings don't reflect the truth. This is all the awe I need in my Christmas.

Overflowing

Do you ever feel empty?

Like the last drop has been squeezed from you?

Like you don't have any more to give?

I know that feeling.

But I also know my feelings don't reflect the truth, and that sometimes, I simply cannot trust my feelings.

I have a Source that continually fills my cup, to overflowing in fact. The only problem is that when I fill my cup with myself, I'm gonna run out...some days more quickly than others. Then, before I know it, I'm empty.

In fact, when I fill my cup with myself, I'm not giving the best I can give. I'm only giving with my feeble, selfish, prideful nature.....so maybe it's okay that I run out.

Because then I need a different Source, something other than myself. Something that lasts, something that refills, something that overflows.

When I'm filled with God, with what He gives - His grace, His Son-the only source of eternal life, His Spirit, His love - I never run out. In fact, everything I do is done out of an overflowing.........not an emptying but an overflowing.

But, here's what gets me, I've gotta choose this. So I'm forced to Face Myself and remember this:

My feelings will lead me astray.

My emotions will betray me.

Even when I feel empty, I'm not.

God has given me His grace. The same grace that allows us to breath each day is for me.

God has given me His love. The same love that sent Jesus to the cross is for me.

God has given me His power. The same power that rose Jesus from the dead is for me.

I am a branch that has been grafted into the Vine of His being (John 15:5). Everything that flows through Him, flows through me.

He has given me everything I need for life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3).

So, I'm not empty. I'm full, and I've got an eternal source.

Facing Myself today with Jess and the others over at the Old Nichols Farm

AND...

Counting today with Ann and the others over at A Holy Experience.

And before I actually link up, I read this at A Holy Experience,

"...we can get through today because we’ve been given every gift in Christ and today we can do the work of Christ because we’ve been given the abundance of Christ."

and this,

"In every way, every child of God has every gift from God and salvation isn’t only a free gift — it is every gift ever needed.

In Christ I need nothing – but to whisper thanks."

and I smile because God is just so good and I thank Him for:

#61. Jesus, who gave up everything to come to earth and do nothing wrong and die for me

#62. His resurrection and my new life

#63. the marvel of frosty winter trees combined with a bright sunny skies

#64. a quiet week to re-group and re-cover after yesterday's incident

#65. the husband greeting my tired self this morning, whispering, "Go back to bed. I made my own lunch."

#66. so many prayers from so many caring people for one toddler's broken arm

#67. the meal my mom put together for us last night despite her busy schedule

#68. the quiet hum of a furnace now working

#69. the friend who spent 3 evenings in our nearly 100 year old basement helping fix our furnace

#70. that Jesus is right here, right now, even when I don't feel Him

This is me, and I'm overflowing.

Putting Down Roots

My blueberry plants had been by the house all spring and summer. I had been waiting for the perfect spot to put them. And when the garden expansion project was finally over, at least the nitty gritty part of it, I knew exactly where to put them. They would be the first additions to the berry patch portion of the new garden.

I hauled everything I needed out to the garden, lamented over the condition of the chunky soil, told myself that soon the "new" dirt would be as beautiful as the "old" dirt in the "old" garden, and set to work.

After the holes were dug, I carefully lifted the blueberry plants out of the planters they had been in since May. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by what I saw - pathetic, small roots.

These plants had been in ideal conditions since day one. I planted them in a half and half mix of potting soil containing plant food and peat moss in an attempt to achieve the acidic conditions they need to thrive. They sat next to the house sheltered from wind and were watered plentifully and frequently.

What's the point in putting down roots when everything is perfect near the surface? But how will the plant survive tough conditions without strong roots?

Hmmm...are you feeling the same analogy I am? Yes, it is a tired, overused analogy, but the Truth is there nonetheless.

I was forced to face myself and the conditions of my own roots. Am I using the more difficult days of my earthly existence to put down deep roots into my Source of strength, my Source of eternal life, my Jesus? Or am I whining and wondering why conditions aren't more perfect on the surface? How will I survive the truly difficult winds of life?

I place the beautiful-on-top, pathetic-underneath blueberry plants in their new home, a new home that will not be kind to them. Like the rest of my garden, they will have to endure too much rain and too much wind and high heat and not enough rain. But just like the Gardener of my soul, I equip my beautiful plants. They get a generous helping of peat moss and are watered thoroughly, because, you see, I love them and I want them to bear fruit.

With the job done and dirt under my fingernails, I take the kids to see what treasures are in the rest of the garden.

(You see the gardening gloves in my back pocket? I always forget to actually put them on.)

And then I decide to link up to Jess' Facing Myself Photo Challenge  for the first time.

This is me. I'm putting down roots.