(This morning as we were talking about being the 'bride' of Christ, it reminded me of something I wrote a few years ago. In Revelation it talks of the King of kings on his white horse, he is called faithful and true.
Now that's a hero I want in my story.
So keep that in mind as you read the following:)
Existing, breathing in and out, stumbling, dragging, heart heavy, forcing the effort not because of desire, but because of duty, just making it through day by day. Wondering at the point, the purpose, the point, the purpose. How’d I get here? Where was the turn? How do you go from knowing you are the daughter of the king, the princess, to this separation, this dread, this feeling of despair?
I suppose that’s always the fairy tale right? The beautiful, joyous princess is attacked by the evil one: She might be separated from all she loves or just deadened to all feelings. She might be abandoned for a time. Does she know the ending while in this limbo?
Happily. Ever. After. That’s where I want to exist, to remain. I want that to be the beginning, the middle and the end. Forget the evil guys, the suspense, the heartache. I want a nice consistent happily, ever after, now. Ever read that story? The story that is completely peaceful and happy all the way through? I doubt it. We know by life, by instinct, by looking around, no one is living a perfect ‘happily ever after’ all the time. Most of us can’t see how many pages away we are from happily ever after. Many of us aren’t sure even if that will be our ending. We are trying to survive this page, evil either on its way or already here. We know we are not capable on our own; we need help, deliverance, and salvation.
Here’s what I like about the fairy tale: the resolution. I can take it all in just one sitting, the forming of the characters and unique characteristics of the individuals involved (usually readily identifiable as good or evil). We read the dilemmas, trials, and struggles sometimes mixed in with humor right up until the crisis. The epiphany of struggle occurs but we read on bravely keeping hope stirring in our heart and soon we are rewarded because, yes, once again good has conquered and evil is defeated and happily ever after comes to town. A nice tidy thirty-minute read, maybe a little shorter, maybe a little longer.
But what if it took us a year to read, two, five, twenty, what if it took eighty years to read? How much more we could take from the story, but how much harder to stay focused, involved, to not get lost in the minutia of eating meals, cleaning castles, and taking out trash. Not to mention the intertwined stories of relatives, friends, and neighbors still circling through and around. It might be easy to miss out on the magic if we became too distracted by the mundane.
I am reminded of the story of Joseph in the bible, not a fairy tale, but has many of the same elements: a favored child, a plan to do him harm, an unlikely ‘rescue’ as he works his way into an easier service track for the king, only to be falsely accused and imprisoned by the queen, yet finally exonerated, put in charge of the kingdom and reunited with his family. We get the snapshot, the climax, and eventually the happy ending, but we don’t live and feel the days in between. Were there days of doubt and despair? Were there days of hopelessness and struggle, perhaps even bitterness and depression? I would guess so.
For today I want to remember that I am the daughter of a king, a princess. I want to rise above the mundane and remember I too am involved in a story far greater than what I can see. I have already been rescued but my story doesn’t end there. There are still evil forces plotting, still challenges ahead. My savior is still loving and fighting for me even when I can’t see or feel him. I have a limited viewpoint of what’s around the corner. I don’t know how many pages are left, but I am left with choosing to believe in love, in hope, in good conquering evil, and even in happily ever after.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Still waiting...
Still waiting….
I have often tried to encourage participants in my exercise class by praising them for doing something for themselves. I have pointed out that while you can pay someone to do a whole lot of things for you- no one can exercise for you. It is something that you have to do for yourself. You can believe in the value of exercise all you want, but it is only in doing it that you will reap rewards. (I think if someone could figure out how to exercise for someone else and transfer the benefits, there would be a booming business.)
Another aspect of exercise is that you have to increase the intensity of your exercise if you want to continue seeing results. If you lift weights, at some point you need to either increase repetitions or the amount of weight. If you are doing cardio, it’s a good idea to change up your routine from time to time.
Last night someone pointed out that stepping out in faith is kind of like exercising your beliefs. You may say you believe in God, but until you actually step out to the point of needing God, your faith is pretty neutral. Once you begin exercising your faith that is when your relationship with God can grow stronger or fit.
I have to say at this point in life I am better at exercising my body than my faith. I have been exercising pretty consistently for years. For the most part I know what I can do, how to listen to my body. I am not obsessive about it but I like to do something several times a week.
I am a little more timid in exercising my faith. Right now I am going on month 3 of somewhat of a sabbatical. I resigned as the fitness coordinator. I dropped teaching my cycling and yoga classes at the gym. But I am still teaching some yoga classes and my silver sneakers classes. I felt led to resign even though I did not have a firm direction for what was next. I have about as many good days as bad. Good is when I feel peaceful and know that God has got this. Bad is when I go on-line and apply for 3 jobs not really asking God, just figuring I need to do something?
I realize that for some people exercise can be uncomfortable. For those that exercise consistently though, we feel better when we exercise. It actually gets enjoyable when you have an activity that gets your heart pumping. I enjoy working up a sweat and it feels so good when I’m done.
This faith building for me right now is extremely uncomfortable. I am hoping that I will be able to look back and say, that’s when I started making it a habit. I want to get to a point where my faith gets stronger and that I enjoy a challenge to keep it fit. I see examples around me of those that make this exercise of faith look easy- but sure enough those that make it look easy have been doing it more consistently and usually longer than I have.
Maybe that’s why I am still waiting. Maybe the discomfort is building a little strength in my faith. I hope so.
I have often tried to encourage participants in my exercise class by praising them for doing something for themselves. I have pointed out that while you can pay someone to do a whole lot of things for you- no one can exercise for you. It is something that you have to do for yourself. You can believe in the value of exercise all you want, but it is only in doing it that you will reap rewards. (I think if someone could figure out how to exercise for someone else and transfer the benefits, there would be a booming business.)
Another aspect of exercise is that you have to increase the intensity of your exercise if you want to continue seeing results. If you lift weights, at some point you need to either increase repetitions or the amount of weight. If you are doing cardio, it’s a good idea to change up your routine from time to time.
Last night someone pointed out that stepping out in faith is kind of like exercising your beliefs. You may say you believe in God, but until you actually step out to the point of needing God, your faith is pretty neutral. Once you begin exercising your faith that is when your relationship with God can grow stronger or fit.
I have to say at this point in life I am better at exercising my body than my faith. I have been exercising pretty consistently for years. For the most part I know what I can do, how to listen to my body. I am not obsessive about it but I like to do something several times a week.
I am a little more timid in exercising my faith. Right now I am going on month 3 of somewhat of a sabbatical. I resigned as the fitness coordinator. I dropped teaching my cycling and yoga classes at the gym. But I am still teaching some yoga classes and my silver sneakers classes. I felt led to resign even though I did not have a firm direction for what was next. I have about as many good days as bad. Good is when I feel peaceful and know that God has got this. Bad is when I go on-line and apply for 3 jobs not really asking God, just figuring I need to do something?
I realize that for some people exercise can be uncomfortable. For those that exercise consistently though, we feel better when we exercise. It actually gets enjoyable when you have an activity that gets your heart pumping. I enjoy working up a sweat and it feels so good when I’m done.
This faith building for me right now is extremely uncomfortable. I am hoping that I will be able to look back and say, that’s when I started making it a habit. I want to get to a point where my faith gets stronger and that I enjoy a challenge to keep it fit. I see examples around me of those that make this exercise of faith look easy- but sure enough those that make it look easy have been doing it more consistently and usually longer than I have.
Maybe that’s why I am still waiting. Maybe the discomfort is building a little strength in my faith. I hope so.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Another little slice
Today at the dermatologist, I had a couple of suspicious spots that the doctor decided to biopsy. So she scraped off a little skin and put it in a jar to have it tested. As she was scraping I couldn’t help think about how the decade we come to age in impacts our lives in so many ways. In the 80s when I was a teenager, we all wanted the ‘bain-de-sole’ tan. The commercials, shows and magazines showed beautiful tans and big hair. So I like so many of my contemporaries made a point to bake out in the sun and get perms every six months. In the Atlanta suburbs we were the land of the sun kissed skin and big hair.
Looking back at my mom’s pictures from her teenage years, she had the fair complexion and red lips that were so popular in the 50s. (This would have been more appropriate for my pale complexion.) But she also became a mom in the midst of the women’s revolution. I never realized how that impacted her until I was grown myself and we were having a grown up conversation. She had bought into that decades lie that being a mother was not of value by itself. She repeatedly heard messages of be strong, independent and somehow she began to think that she had accomplished so little. I never realized that as she was going through the motions of being a full time mom (and part time nurse after I came along), that she constantly compared herself to her twin sister who was the primary and at times sole breadwinner for her family. My Aunt was a highly successful sales person and worked full time as long as I can remember. I wonder though how much was choice and how much was necessity because she did not have the same security and options my Mom had with my Dad.
It astonished me to learn that my strikingly, beautiful and capable mom had such deep insecurities about how she had spent her life. Raising three responsible, productive, considerate and independent children to adulthood was inconsequential because she didn’t have a successful and profitable career. Her part time job was at times a point of contention with my Dad because it took her away from family time. She worked 3-11pm during some of my high school years. She was looking back, feeling insignificant and questioning her chosen path.
I guess there had to be some extremism within the feminist movement in order to make headway against the prejudices that were in place in the expectations and opportunities for women. It’s just sad that that cultural swing caused a generation of women to downplay the value and importance of motherhood. I think the pendulum has swung into a little more balance now. I think women feel more confident to choose and to know it is a personal choice. I think most of my generation recognizes the legitimacy of either choice. But I am sure there will be other cultural norms that I accept without question that my own daughters may someday be surprised by.
My mom is now taking care of her own mother who has Alzheimer’s. She cared for her full time for two years and then put her in a nursing home a year ago. She visits faithfully every afternoon, staying to help settle her to bed. She has missed family get-togethers, grandchildren’s performances, even our family Christmas. But she feels a responsibility to be there, to care for her, to serve and love her. Watching her devotion, her servant’s heart, has given me a new level of love and respect for my mother.
I guess that is the benefit of hindsight and looking at things from a different generation. Maybe we can learn to scrape off a bit of the cultural assumptions and take a closer look. Maybe we can examine those slices to see if the choices are wise or not. Maybe we can start to even base our lives on something more solid than the changing philosophies or trends of our current decade. Perhaps we can eventually teach our daughters that their beauty and worth are intrinsic gifts from God, not the accomplishments or fulfillment of passing fads or cultural norms.
Looking back at my mom’s pictures from her teenage years, she had the fair complexion and red lips that were so popular in the 50s. (This would have been more appropriate for my pale complexion.) But she also became a mom in the midst of the women’s revolution. I never realized how that impacted her until I was grown myself and we were having a grown up conversation. She had bought into that decades lie that being a mother was not of value by itself. She repeatedly heard messages of be strong, independent and somehow she began to think that she had accomplished so little. I never realized that as she was going through the motions of being a full time mom (and part time nurse after I came along), that she constantly compared herself to her twin sister who was the primary and at times sole breadwinner for her family. My Aunt was a highly successful sales person and worked full time as long as I can remember. I wonder though how much was choice and how much was necessity because she did not have the same security and options my Mom had with my Dad.
It astonished me to learn that my strikingly, beautiful and capable mom had such deep insecurities about how she had spent her life. Raising three responsible, productive, considerate and independent children to adulthood was inconsequential because she didn’t have a successful and profitable career. Her part time job was at times a point of contention with my Dad because it took her away from family time. She worked 3-11pm during some of my high school years. She was looking back, feeling insignificant and questioning her chosen path.
I guess there had to be some extremism within the feminist movement in order to make headway against the prejudices that were in place in the expectations and opportunities for women. It’s just sad that that cultural swing caused a generation of women to downplay the value and importance of motherhood. I think the pendulum has swung into a little more balance now. I think women feel more confident to choose and to know it is a personal choice. I think most of my generation recognizes the legitimacy of either choice. But I am sure there will be other cultural norms that I accept without question that my own daughters may someday be surprised by.
My mom is now taking care of her own mother who has Alzheimer’s. She cared for her full time for two years and then put her in a nursing home a year ago. She visits faithfully every afternoon, staying to help settle her to bed. She has missed family get-togethers, grandchildren’s performances, even our family Christmas. But she feels a responsibility to be there, to care for her, to serve and love her. Watching her devotion, her servant’s heart, has given me a new level of love and respect for my mother.
I guess that is the benefit of hindsight and looking at things from a different generation. Maybe we can learn to scrape off a bit of the cultural assumptions and take a closer look. Maybe we can examine those slices to see if the choices are wise or not. Maybe we can start to even base our lives on something more solid than the changing philosophies or trends of our current decade. Perhaps we can eventually teach our daughters that their beauty and worth are intrinsic gifts from God, not the accomplishments or fulfillment of passing fads or cultural norms.
Faith
“Faith is never a question of the intellect, it is always a question of the will”.
As someone who really struggled intellectually for a time with Christianity, this quote really hit me. In college I went through a season of really questioning the claims of Christianity, of doubting the inerrancy of God’s word, of wondering what impact Christ, if He was who He said, would truly make in a person’s life. I probably would have described myself as a Christian agnostic- I had made a profession of faith. I believed in the deity and life of Christ- but I wasn’t too sure about all the other details. During that time, being an avid reader, college student, and psychology major, I discovered there are as many schools of thought and books conveying almost any point of view you are looking for. If you want to believe in Christ but not His deity, you can find a book about that. If you want to believe Christ is one way among many to God, you can read about that, if you want to find a book that criticizes the compilation of scriptures you can find a book about that. If you want to compare contrast the major mythologies and religions into basic systems of thought, you can find that. If you want to believe Christ is God but that the other details are not so certain, you can find a book on that. Now these were not books you would find at your local Christian bookstore. But in a liberal University setting, there is almost an expectation that you examine what you believe, and I did.
I was fortunate that I was encouraged in my quest. I had people that said, basically “God is bigger than your questions, and if you truly are searching for Truth, you will ultimately find God.” I had one campus minister tell me I was just ahead of the curve. He said many students would not face these questions head on until they had children, reached middle age, or lost someone they loved. I had another friend that was a religion major, his favorite response was- “I don’t know, I wasn’t there”, but he chose to believe and search. I took some religion courses where we talked about the concept of God and even a course on the journeys and travels of Paul by a professor that had a very unique interpretation of what the ‘mystery’ referred to in scriptures was. It seemed as though the questions were layered and the arguments circular. I finally got to a point where I had to say also “I don’t know, I wasn’t there”.
But I also made a choice. I made a choice to believe in a God that was too big for my complete understanding. I made a choice to offer my life and myself to Christ because I do believe He came, died and rose again for me. I also made a choice to believe God’s word was true, inspired and living. And finally I made a choice to pursue a relationship with Christ. I am still making that choice today.
During that time and since, I have read many apologetics. I am comforted by the studied men and women, which spend their lives uncovering truth in historical and architectural artifacts that give credence to the stories and claims of the Bible. I love the fact that we can have intelligent arguments about our philosophy and beliefs based on the broader picture of Gods story and word. I appreciate that our faith does have ‘proofs’ that can be examined and revealed. But ultimately I must choose not only to believe, but also to surrender. Belief might be a question of intellect, but faith is much deeper. Faith requires trust and obedience. Faith requires a submission to God’s plan. As complicated and difficult as it can be to get to the point of belief, you may still miss the point if you stop there, because faith is where belief meets will.
The question must be answered and ultimately it is a question of will- what will you choose?
As someone who really struggled intellectually for a time with Christianity, this quote really hit me. In college I went through a season of really questioning the claims of Christianity, of doubting the inerrancy of God’s word, of wondering what impact Christ, if He was who He said, would truly make in a person’s life. I probably would have described myself as a Christian agnostic- I had made a profession of faith. I believed in the deity and life of Christ- but I wasn’t too sure about all the other details. During that time, being an avid reader, college student, and psychology major, I discovered there are as many schools of thought and books conveying almost any point of view you are looking for. If you want to believe in Christ but not His deity, you can find a book about that. If you want to believe Christ is one way among many to God, you can read about that, if you want to find a book that criticizes the compilation of scriptures you can find a book about that. If you want to compare contrast the major mythologies and religions into basic systems of thought, you can find that. If you want to believe Christ is God but that the other details are not so certain, you can find a book on that. Now these were not books you would find at your local Christian bookstore. But in a liberal University setting, there is almost an expectation that you examine what you believe, and I did.
I was fortunate that I was encouraged in my quest. I had people that said, basically “God is bigger than your questions, and if you truly are searching for Truth, you will ultimately find God.” I had one campus minister tell me I was just ahead of the curve. He said many students would not face these questions head on until they had children, reached middle age, or lost someone they loved. I had another friend that was a religion major, his favorite response was- “I don’t know, I wasn’t there”, but he chose to believe and search. I took some religion courses where we talked about the concept of God and even a course on the journeys and travels of Paul by a professor that had a very unique interpretation of what the ‘mystery’ referred to in scriptures was. It seemed as though the questions were layered and the arguments circular. I finally got to a point where I had to say also “I don’t know, I wasn’t there”.
But I also made a choice. I made a choice to believe in a God that was too big for my complete understanding. I made a choice to offer my life and myself to Christ because I do believe He came, died and rose again for me. I also made a choice to believe God’s word was true, inspired and living. And finally I made a choice to pursue a relationship with Christ. I am still making that choice today.
During that time and since, I have read many apologetics. I am comforted by the studied men and women, which spend their lives uncovering truth in historical and architectural artifacts that give credence to the stories and claims of the Bible. I love the fact that we can have intelligent arguments about our philosophy and beliefs based on the broader picture of Gods story and word. I appreciate that our faith does have ‘proofs’ that can be examined and revealed. But ultimately I must choose not only to believe, but also to surrender. Belief might be a question of intellect, but faith is much deeper. Faith requires trust and obedience. Faith requires a submission to God’s plan. As complicated and difficult as it can be to get to the point of belief, you may still miss the point if you stop there, because faith is where belief meets will.
The question must be answered and ultimately it is a question of will- what will you choose?
Junk Food
Junk food. What is the appeal?
Okay, so it is fast, easy and tasty. Chips have that wonderful crispiness and crunch. Candy can be sweet, or sweet and sour, or my favorite- sweet and salty. It is mostly cheap and accessible. I can get it at the grocery store, the gas station, even my local video store. It usually has colorful fun packaging. If you watch kid oriented TV stations, there are lots of commercials for it. I can list dozens off the top of my head: snickers, lays, Doritos, pretzels, combos, bugles, Tostitos, Hersheys, skittles, dove, m & ms, gummies, reeses, and little Debbie’s. That is just a small sampling and doesn’t even include some of the food masquerading as real that is still not good for you.
But, we know it’s junk- right? We know that the chemical additives, artificial colors, trans fat, and sugar are bad for us. We tend to have a mindset that it tastes better than food that is good for us. However, if we really think about it, most of us that have had times in our life to have freshly grown food prepared by skilled hands, we know that junk food is really not better: easier- maybe, better- no.
Have you ever had a fresh strawberry straight from the patch when it is perfectly ripe? For that matter, a blueberry from the bush or peach right from the tree? I’m particularly fond of homegrown fresh tomatoes (and have NEVER bought one in a store that would compare). Oh, and when it is corn season my Dad grows the best sweet white corn that can be found. Getting hungry yet?
I am a practical girl and know that my own food triangle is far from perfect. I eat more than I should of the junk variety, and don’t think that it is necessary to eliminate all junk food. We have a pretty amazing and forgiving body when we attempt to give it what we need, but we get to make the choices. We do find it operates better when we give it what it needs. Does it make you wonder why we find ourselves eating substances that don’t feed us, things that don’t nourish us?
I heard a quote recently in regard to faith. “Faith is never a question of the intellect- it is always a question of the will.” I like to think of myself as a smart person, but often my choices are not choices of intellect but simply of will. The junk food is but one small example of that. And that one is a fairly easy one. If I can’t pronounce the ingredients and it has more sugar and fat than any combination of fiber, protein and carbohydrates, I should probably stay away from it. Not that I always will.
In my faith there are also an enormous amount of substitutes for real nourishment. Some are obvious and some are rather subtle. My faith junk food is pretty cheap and accessible as well. It can be too much focus on work or just the opposite - watching TV and avoiding what needs to be done. There are amazing and infinite ways to fill my time and mental energy. It is often easier to go through an entire day without thinking of God than to force myself to return my focus to His will (more veggies please). It can show up subtly by only talking when I pray and forgetting to listen.
The basics for my food pyramid would probably be prayer, studying God’s word, trusting God and obeying. I think there are other levels that we need slightly less of but that are still important; relationships with other believers, developing and sharing our story of how God works in our lives. These are ‘better’ options but not necessarily easier. They are not cleverly packaged, exciting or tempting. But when we actually do them, we know they are so much sweeter than the junk. When we are able to discipline ourselves and pray, fast, study, we can feel the difference. We have a pretty amazing and forgiving father that attempts to give us what we need, but we still have to make the choices.
Father, help us to focus more on you. Help us to make choices that are pleasing to you because those same choices will lead us to a better place. Thank you for our free will although at times when I am lazy I wish there was only good choices. Thank you that you are loving and merciful even when we choose wrong. Help me love you more.
Okay, so it is fast, easy and tasty. Chips have that wonderful crispiness and crunch. Candy can be sweet, or sweet and sour, or my favorite- sweet and salty. It is mostly cheap and accessible. I can get it at the grocery store, the gas station, even my local video store. It usually has colorful fun packaging. If you watch kid oriented TV stations, there are lots of commercials for it. I can list dozens off the top of my head: snickers, lays, Doritos, pretzels, combos, bugles, Tostitos, Hersheys, skittles, dove, m & ms, gummies, reeses, and little Debbie’s. That is just a small sampling and doesn’t even include some of the food masquerading as real that is still not good for you.
But, we know it’s junk- right? We know that the chemical additives, artificial colors, trans fat, and sugar are bad for us. We tend to have a mindset that it tastes better than food that is good for us. However, if we really think about it, most of us that have had times in our life to have freshly grown food prepared by skilled hands, we know that junk food is really not better: easier- maybe, better- no.
Have you ever had a fresh strawberry straight from the patch when it is perfectly ripe? For that matter, a blueberry from the bush or peach right from the tree? I’m particularly fond of homegrown fresh tomatoes (and have NEVER bought one in a store that would compare). Oh, and when it is corn season my Dad grows the best sweet white corn that can be found. Getting hungry yet?
I am a practical girl and know that my own food triangle is far from perfect. I eat more than I should of the junk variety, and don’t think that it is necessary to eliminate all junk food. We have a pretty amazing and forgiving body when we attempt to give it what we need, but we get to make the choices. We do find it operates better when we give it what it needs. Does it make you wonder why we find ourselves eating substances that don’t feed us, things that don’t nourish us?
I heard a quote recently in regard to faith. “Faith is never a question of the intellect- it is always a question of the will.” I like to think of myself as a smart person, but often my choices are not choices of intellect but simply of will. The junk food is but one small example of that. And that one is a fairly easy one. If I can’t pronounce the ingredients and it has more sugar and fat than any combination of fiber, protein and carbohydrates, I should probably stay away from it. Not that I always will.
In my faith there are also an enormous amount of substitutes for real nourishment. Some are obvious and some are rather subtle. My faith junk food is pretty cheap and accessible as well. It can be too much focus on work or just the opposite - watching TV and avoiding what needs to be done. There are amazing and infinite ways to fill my time and mental energy. It is often easier to go through an entire day without thinking of God than to force myself to return my focus to His will (more veggies please). It can show up subtly by only talking when I pray and forgetting to listen.
The basics for my food pyramid would probably be prayer, studying God’s word, trusting God and obeying. I think there are other levels that we need slightly less of but that are still important; relationships with other believers, developing and sharing our story of how God works in our lives. These are ‘better’ options but not necessarily easier. They are not cleverly packaged, exciting or tempting. But when we actually do them, we know they are so much sweeter than the junk. When we are able to discipline ourselves and pray, fast, study, we can feel the difference. We have a pretty amazing and forgiving father that attempts to give us what we need, but we still have to make the choices.
Father, help us to focus more on you. Help us to make choices that are pleasing to you because those same choices will lead us to a better place. Thank you for our free will although at times when I am lazy I wish there was only good choices. Thank you that you are loving and merciful even when we choose wrong. Help me love you more.
Food, glorious food
“Food, glorious food!” It is probably a reflection that, unlike the orphans in Annie, I do get regular meals, so I don’t always feel as excited about food as this song suggests. Don’t get me wrong. I do really like food. But often when I am faced with what to make for dinner, AGAIN, I am less than enthusiastic. After (almost) 18 years of marriage and being the primary cook for our family, I find myself in ruts. I find myself making the same old thing over and over again. I come from a great line of southern cooks, but now that I’ve learned battering and frying everything is not particularly healthy, it definitely limits the meals I can use from my upbringing.
I recently went and checked out several recipe books from the library looking for inspiration. But that only served to overwhelm me. I have in the past tried recipes from books, only to be disappointed that after all the effort required to find a new recipe, get all the various ingredients and spices, and follow the directions, I found that we as a family didn’t particularly care for it. Especially when I am attempting to find something healthy. So as I type I still haven’t planned out a dinner for tonight, let alone a menu for the week.
Many years ago, I compiled a family cookbook for Christmas. I took one or two recipes from each family, threw in some of my grandma’s favorites and printed them out for gifts. I still pull that one out, but actually probably know most of them by heart now. I also did a recipe exchange with my cul-de-sac friends a couple of years ago. Again it was family favorites that were easy to prepare. Some of those became regular dishes for us. It seems that there is a much higher success rate (at least for me) of finding good recipes when they come from moms that actually cook them and like them as opposed to just reading through cookbooks. Grandmas with their life experience seem to be a great source too. Maybe the hard part is just making those connections with the good cooks out there and being willing to ask and share.
You know there’s going to be a likewise here- right?
Likewise, I have found that sometimes the community of getting together with fellow Christians can really help me in getting to the good stuff in the bible. You can get in ruts, thinking through maybe the same thoughts, or reading from the same ‘safe’ passages. Sometimes when you just try to dive in somewhat randomly, you can get a little overwhelmed. Obviously the Bible is much more important than a mere cookbook. It’s also not an adequate metaphor in that hopefully we can find a way and place to read from this book everyday. But sometimes it can really be helpful to find someone that has already worked through parts of it and is really living it. Sometimes it’s nice to have some ‘well used recipes’ from God’s word that have been tried and true for someone. Sometimes we need someone with some life experience that has been cookin’ with Jesus for a while.
I pray we can all find someone who is putting those ingredients together and has it smellin’ good. And maybe we can all look for those recipes/stories that we need to share and pass them along. Now, back to planning for dinner…
I recently went and checked out several recipe books from the library looking for inspiration. But that only served to overwhelm me. I have in the past tried recipes from books, only to be disappointed that after all the effort required to find a new recipe, get all the various ingredients and spices, and follow the directions, I found that we as a family didn’t particularly care for it. Especially when I am attempting to find something healthy. So as I type I still haven’t planned out a dinner for tonight, let alone a menu for the week.
Many years ago, I compiled a family cookbook for Christmas. I took one or two recipes from each family, threw in some of my grandma’s favorites and printed them out for gifts. I still pull that one out, but actually probably know most of them by heart now. I also did a recipe exchange with my cul-de-sac friends a couple of years ago. Again it was family favorites that were easy to prepare. Some of those became regular dishes for us. It seems that there is a much higher success rate (at least for me) of finding good recipes when they come from moms that actually cook them and like them as opposed to just reading through cookbooks. Grandmas with their life experience seem to be a great source too. Maybe the hard part is just making those connections with the good cooks out there and being willing to ask and share.
You know there’s going to be a likewise here- right?
Likewise, I have found that sometimes the community of getting together with fellow Christians can really help me in getting to the good stuff in the bible. You can get in ruts, thinking through maybe the same thoughts, or reading from the same ‘safe’ passages. Sometimes when you just try to dive in somewhat randomly, you can get a little overwhelmed. Obviously the Bible is much more important than a mere cookbook. It’s also not an adequate metaphor in that hopefully we can find a way and place to read from this book everyday. But sometimes it can really be helpful to find someone that has already worked through parts of it and is really living it. Sometimes it’s nice to have some ‘well used recipes’ from God’s word that have been tried and true for someone. Sometimes we need someone with some life experience that has been cookin’ with Jesus for a while.
I pray we can all find someone who is putting those ingredients together and has it smellin’ good. And maybe we can all look for those recipes/stories that we need to share and pass them along. Now, back to planning for dinner…
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Prone to wander
So, my months are flying by and I am still not sure what this spiritual sabbatical is forming within me. I fluctuate, being wildly productive some days, and other days find me crawling back into my warm cozy bed. I argue with myself, knowing that there is a ‘season for all things’. My emotions run from excitement over fresh breezes blown over my dry spirit, to frustration over what seems like no progress. I fight either staying busy, so it seems that I am doing something, or sleeping, reading or idling my day away. Where is the productivity? What have I accomplished? But is that the point?
I find comfort in the psalms. Not only in the lofty reminders of the great God we serve, but also in the crazy ups and downs of David’s own emotional life. Not exactly ‘steady Eddie’. Yet he was a man after God’s own heart. I would guess there were a lot of fairly boring days out as a shepherd. Of course he had many exciting, daring, scary days as well. And he even had some stupid, irresponsible days.
Of course my real fear is that I’m making this all up on my own. That is wasn’t really God I heard asking me to slow down and take some time, but it was my own thought processes that led me to here. I had a mentor tell me once, that my avoidance to make choices about my major and career choice was simply that I did not want to limit my options. And by choosing a path I would have to eliminate other paths. There is some truth to that. I do like to think I can still do anything I choose. I was very bummed to find out that I can no longer be a secret service person because of my age. I am not saying I want to be a secret service agent (or that God is leading me to be a secret service agent), but it was annoying to find out that they wouldn’t train me, now that I am over 40. So knowing that little insight about myself does make me question this part of my journey and my choices.
BUT, I must remember that I have felt those breezes of God blowing on my hard heart. In the time of quiet, I do turn to Him. Don’t get me wrong, I still also find other things to fill my time. I still manage to avoid the soul searching with cleaning, television, sleeping, e-mails, and reading. There’s a strange awareness that as I realize how much I need Him, I am also realizing how often I avoid Him. Yet, He records my wanderings and even keeps my tears (Psalm 58:6).
As often happens a song comes to mind: “O to grace how great a debtor, Daily I’m constrained to be! Let Thy goodness, like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to Thee. Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love; Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, Seal it for Thy courts above.”
So today I pray for passion for the things that matter, for wisdom to seek and follow Christ, for love for God and others, and for faith that the rest will fall into place.
I find comfort in the psalms. Not only in the lofty reminders of the great God we serve, but also in the crazy ups and downs of David’s own emotional life. Not exactly ‘steady Eddie’. Yet he was a man after God’s own heart. I would guess there were a lot of fairly boring days out as a shepherd. Of course he had many exciting, daring, scary days as well. And he even had some stupid, irresponsible days.
Of course my real fear is that I’m making this all up on my own. That is wasn’t really God I heard asking me to slow down and take some time, but it was my own thought processes that led me to here. I had a mentor tell me once, that my avoidance to make choices about my major and career choice was simply that I did not want to limit my options. And by choosing a path I would have to eliminate other paths. There is some truth to that. I do like to think I can still do anything I choose. I was very bummed to find out that I can no longer be a secret service person because of my age. I am not saying I want to be a secret service agent (or that God is leading me to be a secret service agent), but it was annoying to find out that they wouldn’t train me, now that I am over 40. So knowing that little insight about myself does make me question this part of my journey and my choices.
BUT, I must remember that I have felt those breezes of God blowing on my hard heart. In the time of quiet, I do turn to Him. Don’t get me wrong, I still also find other things to fill my time. I still manage to avoid the soul searching with cleaning, television, sleeping, e-mails, and reading. There’s a strange awareness that as I realize how much I need Him, I am also realizing how often I avoid Him. Yet, He records my wanderings and even keeps my tears (Psalm 58:6).
As often happens a song comes to mind: “O to grace how great a debtor, Daily I’m constrained to be! Let Thy goodness, like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to Thee. Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love; Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, Seal it for Thy courts above.”
So today I pray for passion for the things that matter, for wisdom to seek and follow Christ, for love for God and others, and for faith that the rest will fall into place.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Obedience
It started out so good today. I read a little of the ragamuffin gospel. I felt God’s spirit moving in my heart. I had a nice conversation with my own mother. I got my girls up and started on their assignments. I went out to help a friend and was able to get in a workout.
When I got back, one daughter was working on assignments; the other was on the computer watching a tv show. (Which she then lied to me about) She knew she was supposed to finish her work first, but she hadn’t. After some attitude adjusting (why do we get mad at the person who points out our mistake?), she began working on her assignments as well. I began the day’s chores, cleaning the kitchen, starting some lunch, straightening around the house. When I called for lunch, no one came. I sat and ate by myself, cleaned up my plate and called again. This time they came downstairs. “Can I make chocolate-chip pancakes?” one asked. “No”, I responded, “I’ve already made you lunch.” “That’s disgusting” was the word of gracious thanks given for my cooking. I pointed out that that was the option or they could simply not eat. One ate and one did not. Soon after they returned upstairs, I realized we had not had any bible study for today together (we try to on Thursdays). I called them back down. One came. One did not. I yelled again. I sent the one to get the other. Soon I hear them both yelling at each other. A door slams and I am still waiting downstairs to have this time to focus on God today- but strangely I am no longer in the mood. I get so tired of trying to impose my will. I go in the front room to pray, when it dawns on me, how I simply want obedience and a good attitude. And then it dawns on me; I wonder if this is how God feels at times?
Hmmm. I get tired of imposing my will. I get frustrated. I simply want my children to have a good attitude and obey me. I want them to get this connection between love, respect and obedience. I want them to see that yes I love the ‘I’m sorry’s, I love the hugs; but sometimes I just want them to not whine, do what needs to be done, and do what I have asked.
I’m reminded that more times than I am even aware of, I have not come when God has called. I was so into whatever was important to me at the time, I didn’t even hear him. I’m reminded that there have been times I have been doing what I wanted to do instead of what He asked me to do. There have been times I have grumbled about God’s provision instead of properly thanking Him for what has been prepared for me. He has chosen that He wants me to obey out of love and respect, not because He can impose His will if I do not.
Lord, thank you that even in the pettiness of my life, you remind me of what really matters. Help me show a glimpse of Your love to my children while always letting them know that You love them even more than I ever can. Help us all to grow in our love for You and to desire to obey you because of our understanding of how amazing and great You are. I am sorry for the not listening and the whining. Thank You that You keep on loving me in spite of me.
When I got back, one daughter was working on assignments; the other was on the computer watching a tv show. (Which she then lied to me about) She knew she was supposed to finish her work first, but she hadn’t. After some attitude adjusting (why do we get mad at the person who points out our mistake?), she began working on her assignments as well. I began the day’s chores, cleaning the kitchen, starting some lunch, straightening around the house. When I called for lunch, no one came. I sat and ate by myself, cleaned up my plate and called again. This time they came downstairs. “Can I make chocolate-chip pancakes?” one asked. “No”, I responded, “I’ve already made you lunch.” “That’s disgusting” was the word of gracious thanks given for my cooking. I pointed out that that was the option or they could simply not eat. One ate and one did not. Soon after they returned upstairs, I realized we had not had any bible study for today together (we try to on Thursdays). I called them back down. One came. One did not. I yelled again. I sent the one to get the other. Soon I hear them both yelling at each other. A door slams and I am still waiting downstairs to have this time to focus on God today- but strangely I am no longer in the mood. I get so tired of trying to impose my will. I go in the front room to pray, when it dawns on me, how I simply want obedience and a good attitude. And then it dawns on me; I wonder if this is how God feels at times?
Hmmm. I get tired of imposing my will. I get frustrated. I simply want my children to have a good attitude and obey me. I want them to get this connection between love, respect and obedience. I want them to see that yes I love the ‘I’m sorry’s, I love the hugs; but sometimes I just want them to not whine, do what needs to be done, and do what I have asked.
I’m reminded that more times than I am even aware of, I have not come when God has called. I was so into whatever was important to me at the time, I didn’t even hear him. I’m reminded that there have been times I have been doing what I wanted to do instead of what He asked me to do. There have been times I have grumbled about God’s provision instead of properly thanking Him for what has been prepared for me. He has chosen that He wants me to obey out of love and respect, not because He can impose His will if I do not.
Lord, thank you that even in the pettiness of my life, you remind me of what really matters. Help me show a glimpse of Your love to my children while always letting them know that You love them even more than I ever can. Help us all to grow in our love for You and to desire to obey you because of our understanding of how amazing and great You are. I am sorry for the not listening and the whining. Thank You that You keep on loving me in spite of me.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Swimsuits
That time again…
Bathing suit season: Three words to strike horror in the minds of most American women. It’s a lot to do with how we want to look in the suit compared to how we do look. It’s partly the impossible standards we compare ourselves to. It’s partly that we notice the unsightly first and foremost. It’s partly that the makers of said suits are not considering the average woman when designing. It is also frustrating because to be so small in the usage of material they can be quite expensive. And this year I have a whole new level of anxiety because I have a couple of other bathing suits to buy that I won’t be wearing.
My 14 year old and (will be in June) 13 year old will also need new bathing suits this year. In years past I haven’t been as concerned with their choices because they still looked like girls. Not so this year. As they have the fun new curves that come with this age I have a whole new dilemma with swimsuit attire. They will, I am sure, look good in the swimsuits available. It won’t be a matter of finding one that looks attractive or flattering as it might be for me. It will be a matter of finding one that covers everything I think needs to be covered and yet doesn’t look like their 40 year old mother picked it out or could wear it.
There’s a certain naiveté at this age, at least for my girls, where they don’t quite understand yet the power of the new curves. There is a slight awareness that the opposite gender is sometimes sizing them up, or throwing things at them, or insulting them to get their attention, but we’re in that awkward: you are not a girl but not yet a woman stage. So I get to maneuver through the explanations of the need for modesty trying to emphasize without overstating the male preoccupation with female bodies and sex. To be honest if it were a female only pool, they could wear the itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny, yellow polka dot bikini. But it’s not. So as a female I get to try and explain what is foreign to me.
I mean if I see a guy in his swim trunks, I will notice if he looks nice. I will probably notice if he works out and has nice pectoral muscles or defined abs, but that will be the end of it. I would have a similar reaction to a woman in a bathing suit. I would have an observation of the body type, whether or not the cut is flattering, and then move on. Apparently this is not as easy for those guys out there.
So how do I explain, yes dear you look smashing in that bathing suit which is precisely why we are NOT buying it. Don’t worry in years to come you won’t look so good and then you can buy whatever you want. ☺
Sooo, if you are reading and do not have to buy for young teenage girls, maybe that can be your consolation in your shopping for swimsuits.
Bathing suit season: Three words to strike horror in the minds of most American women. It’s a lot to do with how we want to look in the suit compared to how we do look. It’s partly the impossible standards we compare ourselves to. It’s partly that we notice the unsightly first and foremost. It’s partly that the makers of said suits are not considering the average woman when designing. It is also frustrating because to be so small in the usage of material they can be quite expensive. And this year I have a whole new level of anxiety because I have a couple of other bathing suits to buy that I won’t be wearing.
My 14 year old and (will be in June) 13 year old will also need new bathing suits this year. In years past I haven’t been as concerned with their choices because they still looked like girls. Not so this year. As they have the fun new curves that come with this age I have a whole new dilemma with swimsuit attire. They will, I am sure, look good in the swimsuits available. It won’t be a matter of finding one that looks attractive or flattering as it might be for me. It will be a matter of finding one that covers everything I think needs to be covered and yet doesn’t look like their 40 year old mother picked it out or could wear it.
There’s a certain naiveté at this age, at least for my girls, where they don’t quite understand yet the power of the new curves. There is a slight awareness that the opposite gender is sometimes sizing them up, or throwing things at them, or insulting them to get their attention, but we’re in that awkward: you are not a girl but not yet a woman stage. So I get to maneuver through the explanations of the need for modesty trying to emphasize without overstating the male preoccupation with female bodies and sex. To be honest if it were a female only pool, they could wear the itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny, yellow polka dot bikini. But it’s not. So as a female I get to try and explain what is foreign to me.
I mean if I see a guy in his swim trunks, I will notice if he looks nice. I will probably notice if he works out and has nice pectoral muscles or defined abs, but that will be the end of it. I would have a similar reaction to a woman in a bathing suit. I would have an observation of the body type, whether or not the cut is flattering, and then move on. Apparently this is not as easy for those guys out there.
So how do I explain, yes dear you look smashing in that bathing suit which is precisely why we are NOT buying it. Don’t worry in years to come you won’t look so good and then you can buy whatever you want. ☺
Sooo, if you are reading and do not have to buy for young teenage girls, maybe that can be your consolation in your shopping for swimsuits.
Mirth
Mirth
I read recently that March is the month of mirth. Mirth is “gaiety with laughter” according to Webster’s pocket dictionary. What a wonderful gift laughter is. After accepting Grady’s proposal, my Dad asked me why I wanted to marry Grady. I responded, “He makes me laugh.” And he still does. Although he would have preferred my answer to reference his manliness, or irresistible physical attraction, the truth still speaks 18 years later, and he still makes me smile. I’m drawn to storytellers, witty, fun-loving folks. I gravitate to people with smiles and laughter as part of their personality.
I really wish there was a verse that stated, “Jesus laughed”, to counter the “Jesus wept”. But I’d like to think it was a daily occurrence unlike the weeping. That laughing was as commonplace as eating; so there wasn’t much need to reference it specifically. There was reference to many dinner parties and social gatherings. It seems as though a certain compassion and warmth emanated from our Lord. People were definitely drawn to Him. While definitely a man with serious plans, I have to believe between the recorded conversations were laughter among friends, jokes about events and places. I picture the Son of God as enjoyable to be around.
So often when I think of ‘religion’, it brings to mind stern rules, older serious, slightly grumpy adults that want everyone to know how sinful we all are. But when I think of Jesus I think of warmth, compassion, love and even laughter. I think of how much God gave us to smile and laugh at. I think of how John Eldredge explains this concept in his book, Sacred Romance, “He delights in our delight”. So what is more delightful than laughter? Anne Lamott calls laughter “carbonated holiness”. I love that. I’m thankful for the complexity of emotion we feel and express daily. The raucous laughter shared with friends is such a gift. The ability to laugh at ourselves is priceless and oh so useful.
Grady and I met at a flag football tournament. He has embellished our story to an art form. Legend has it now, that I flirted shamelessly with him while in the game, and truly piqued his interest after running over 2 girls instead of around them. I would counter that I first saw him wearing a hot pink bandana, tight cut off sweats, and his shirt tied up around his rib cage; it was the referee I was looking at instead of him, and I didn’t mean to knock over those girls. He offered me a coke on the sideline (where luckily he had changed into normal clothes). He followed up our brief conversation by giving my injured teammate a ride home, he didn’t know she was Wendy Whiner’s 1st cousin, and since she didn’t know me well, couldn’t supply him with any more info. He then ended up calling my organization at school and lying to get my phone number. He pretended to be a reporter that needed permission to use a picture of me. It seems a little worse when you know he was calling and lying to the Baptist Student Union. Nonetheless, the first date was set and changed the rest of my life.
I also smile when I think of our mini van. We bought the dreaded mini-van when I was pregnant with our 3rd child. I had fought the fight for as long as I could. I was supposed to be a convertible kind of girl, or at least something cute and fast. But the enlargement of our family was as imminent as my waistline so the time had come. It turned out to be a great car.
Matter of fact we kept the car 8 years, until it was totaled in an accident. When we bought the van, being avid music lovers, my husband and I both really wanted a CD player, so we saved up and finally purchased one after having the car 4 years. A month after having the CD player installed we went on a camping trip with friends. We were missing our flashlight and Grady went to look in the van. As he looked under the passenger side seat, he noticed a box he had never seen before, attached under the seat.
He called me over, and after further examination we realized it was a 6 CD player. Our loving friends were of course merciless in teasing us. We had wished for a CD player for years while we were riding around sitting on it. We had a good laugh at ourselves and luckily we were able to return the single CD player we had just bought. Each time we played CDs it was a reminder of our years of wishing, not knowing the gift was already delivered.
Take some time today and reflect on memories that make you smile, memories of laughter and fun. You might be sitting on some gifts of laughter yourself that just need a little looking around to find.
I read recently that March is the month of mirth. Mirth is “gaiety with laughter” according to Webster’s pocket dictionary. What a wonderful gift laughter is. After accepting Grady’s proposal, my Dad asked me why I wanted to marry Grady. I responded, “He makes me laugh.” And he still does. Although he would have preferred my answer to reference his manliness, or irresistible physical attraction, the truth still speaks 18 years later, and he still makes me smile. I’m drawn to storytellers, witty, fun-loving folks. I gravitate to people with smiles and laughter as part of their personality.
I really wish there was a verse that stated, “Jesus laughed”, to counter the “Jesus wept”. But I’d like to think it was a daily occurrence unlike the weeping. That laughing was as commonplace as eating; so there wasn’t much need to reference it specifically. There was reference to many dinner parties and social gatherings. It seems as though a certain compassion and warmth emanated from our Lord. People were definitely drawn to Him. While definitely a man with serious plans, I have to believe between the recorded conversations were laughter among friends, jokes about events and places. I picture the Son of God as enjoyable to be around.
So often when I think of ‘religion’, it brings to mind stern rules, older serious, slightly grumpy adults that want everyone to know how sinful we all are. But when I think of Jesus I think of warmth, compassion, love and even laughter. I think of how much God gave us to smile and laugh at. I think of how John Eldredge explains this concept in his book, Sacred Romance, “He delights in our delight”. So what is more delightful than laughter? Anne Lamott calls laughter “carbonated holiness”. I love that. I’m thankful for the complexity of emotion we feel and express daily. The raucous laughter shared with friends is such a gift. The ability to laugh at ourselves is priceless and oh so useful.
Grady and I met at a flag football tournament. He has embellished our story to an art form. Legend has it now, that I flirted shamelessly with him while in the game, and truly piqued his interest after running over 2 girls instead of around them. I would counter that I first saw him wearing a hot pink bandana, tight cut off sweats, and his shirt tied up around his rib cage; it was the referee I was looking at instead of him, and I didn’t mean to knock over those girls. He offered me a coke on the sideline (where luckily he had changed into normal clothes). He followed up our brief conversation by giving my injured teammate a ride home, he didn’t know she was Wendy Whiner’s 1st cousin, and since she didn’t know me well, couldn’t supply him with any more info. He then ended up calling my organization at school and lying to get my phone number. He pretended to be a reporter that needed permission to use a picture of me. It seems a little worse when you know he was calling and lying to the Baptist Student Union. Nonetheless, the first date was set and changed the rest of my life.
I also smile when I think of our mini van. We bought the dreaded mini-van when I was pregnant with our 3rd child. I had fought the fight for as long as I could. I was supposed to be a convertible kind of girl, or at least something cute and fast. But the enlargement of our family was as imminent as my waistline so the time had come. It turned out to be a great car.
Matter of fact we kept the car 8 years, until it was totaled in an accident. When we bought the van, being avid music lovers, my husband and I both really wanted a CD player, so we saved up and finally purchased one after having the car 4 years. A month after having the CD player installed we went on a camping trip with friends. We were missing our flashlight and Grady went to look in the van. As he looked under the passenger side seat, he noticed a box he had never seen before, attached under the seat.
He called me over, and after further examination we realized it was a 6 CD player. Our loving friends were of course merciless in teasing us. We had wished for a CD player for years while we were riding around sitting on it. We had a good laugh at ourselves and luckily we were able to return the single CD player we had just bought. Each time we played CDs it was a reminder of our years of wishing, not knowing the gift was already delivered.
Take some time today and reflect on memories that make you smile, memories of laughter and fun. You might be sitting on some gifts of laughter yourself that just need a little looking around to find.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Rain to Snow
Another beautiful day of falling snow. We’ve definitely seen more than usual this year. Georgia is not known for it’s snowy winters. The flakes are so lovely falling down, and I get to enjoy watching from the warmth of my home, looking out the windows. Yet, there is the unrest today. I’ve felt it now for several days. A vague uneasiness that I can’t quite describe is settling on my heart.
I’ve been trying to figure it out again. I’ve been trying to ‘be God’. For some reason God has given me enough intelligence and self-confidence that I am quite stubborn in this tendency of mine. I find myself thinking, well, since I did not get this last job, there is obviously something else out there for me, but I don’t stop there. I begin to try and figure out what that is. I also begin to look back. I begin to ponder, well, what was so wrong with what I was doing before? In what is one of the worst economies we have had in my lifetime, why did I decide to take a leap of faith now? Why did I leave without knowing where exactly I was going? It’s easy to forget the small promptings of God that led me to here, when I am looking back at the solidness and enjoyment of my previous job.
It’s easier when it’s someone else. I can tell my friend that is questioning his purchase of a business that is going badly- God is still with you. I can remind him that we see only a small part of a much bigger plan. I can remind him that even in what we feel is dire circumstances; we are immeasurably blessed. We still have food, shelter, and relationships with people that love us. We still live in a country of freedom. Even our financial struggles are struggles only because we have become accustomed to so much wealth. But it’s easier to tell someone else that for some reason ☺.
I was thinking that my thinking is kind of like rain. It has its purpose, but it ends up making everything somewhat damp and dreary. I tend to notice the grey color of the sky and it kind of overshadows everything. But what if instead of thinking, I tried praying? What if I focused on praising God that He has led me to this point? What if I spent some time meditating on His continuous love, blessings, and promises? I think if I could change my thinking to praying, that rain might turn to snow. It’s still precipitation, it still makes everything wet, but now I see the beauty of the water, the elegance of how it covers things. I see the whiteness and brightness instead of gray.
Lord, thank you for the beauty of the snow. Thank you for leading me; even if I don’t know where we’re going, I know You will be there with me. Forgive me my unrest, my lack of faith. Thank you that even though you are high above all things, you still reach down to me. Keep working on my heart, mind and soul, for I truly want them to be Yours.
I’ve been trying to figure it out again. I’ve been trying to ‘be God’. For some reason God has given me enough intelligence and self-confidence that I am quite stubborn in this tendency of mine. I find myself thinking, well, since I did not get this last job, there is obviously something else out there for me, but I don’t stop there. I begin to try and figure out what that is. I also begin to look back. I begin to ponder, well, what was so wrong with what I was doing before? In what is one of the worst economies we have had in my lifetime, why did I decide to take a leap of faith now? Why did I leave without knowing where exactly I was going? It’s easy to forget the small promptings of God that led me to here, when I am looking back at the solidness and enjoyment of my previous job.
It’s easier when it’s someone else. I can tell my friend that is questioning his purchase of a business that is going badly- God is still with you. I can remind him that we see only a small part of a much bigger plan. I can remind him that even in what we feel is dire circumstances; we are immeasurably blessed. We still have food, shelter, and relationships with people that love us. We still live in a country of freedom. Even our financial struggles are struggles only because we have become accustomed to so much wealth. But it’s easier to tell someone else that for some reason ☺.
I was thinking that my thinking is kind of like rain. It has its purpose, but it ends up making everything somewhat damp and dreary. I tend to notice the grey color of the sky and it kind of overshadows everything. But what if instead of thinking, I tried praying? What if I focused on praising God that He has led me to this point? What if I spent some time meditating on His continuous love, blessings, and promises? I think if I could change my thinking to praying, that rain might turn to snow. It’s still precipitation, it still makes everything wet, but now I see the beauty of the water, the elegance of how it covers things. I see the whiteness and brightness instead of gray.
Lord, thank you for the beauty of the snow. Thank you for leading me; even if I don’t know where we’re going, I know You will be there with me. Forgive me my unrest, my lack of faith. Thank you that even though you are high above all things, you still reach down to me. Keep working on my heart, mind and soul, for I truly want them to be Yours.
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