Life and Death and Christmas

Three days after Christmas I sat in a sanctuary still beautifully decorated for the Christmas season. Greenery and candles with white lights were intermingled along the stage in an elegant way. To the left hand side, surrounded by the decorations was a simple feeding trough, manger with a doll wrapped in swaddling cloths, Baby Jesus.

Just a few feet from this joyous, beautiful scene sat my grandmother's open casket.

Life and Death and Christmas.

Yes, Jesus was the baby born to die and, by doing so, give life.

Yes, because Jesus lived and died and lived again, my grandmother had been dead in her sin, but by the gift of faith God gave her, she now, physically dead, lives eternally.

Yes, because Jesus lived and died and lived again, I have hope. Hope that my sins and old nature have been put to death. Hope that I will one day be reunited with my Grandmother in an eternal life after my physical death. Hope that I can live this day the way God created me live it - alive in Christ.

I would not have chosen this week to have been the week when my grandmother died and her earthly life remembered. There will not be a Christmas that passes that I will not stop and reflect on her passing. It could be an incredibly sad thing to lose such a close loved one to death during this season the is supposed to be so festive.

But instead of just commemorating these days associated with her death with sadness, and loss - I will forever remember the Baby Jesus beside my grandmother's coffin. I celebrate the reality of Christ's incarnation and advent with a greater, deeper joy than I could not have otherwise celebrated.

Just take a few minutes to reflect on this Christmas carol below. The tune and words are basic enough to teach preschoolers, but the words will forever be so much deeper and more meaningful to me. . .

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,
The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head.

The stars in the sky looked down where he lay,
The little Lord Jesus asleep in the hay.

The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes,
But little Lord Jesus no crying he makes.


I love Thee, Lord Jesus, look down from the sky
And stay by my cradle 'til morning is nigh.

Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay
Close by me forever, and love me, I pray.

Bless all the dear children in thy tender care,
And take us to heaven, to live with Thee there.

Tangled Raw

The tangle of conflicting intertwined emotions weighs heavy on my sternum. Some angles are sharp and literally, physically hurt when they rub against my inside. Mostly the mass just seems to ache until I can find some sort of distraction to numb the damaged spot.

Christmas is usually filled with mostly happy thoughts and memories. Yes, there's been hard years especially the first holiday season after my dad left and the one after my brother-in-law passed, but this one is different.

I know God's timing is perfect and I can think back over the last couple of weeks and clearly see His hand preparing my heart and the circumstances for the day He would take my grandmother home to be with Him. He didn't leave any detail untaken care of.

My heart was already where it needed to be in adoration of the Savior's birth. My shopping done, my preparations completed, my groceries brought home and all put away - when I got the phone call I had been expecting.

Mom was understandably emotional as she described the last moments Grandma spent on this side of eternity and how she slipped into the other.

In the roughly 48 hours since then, the tangle of emotions has swelled. Like a tide, it has come in waves and gone in waves too.

The thought of my grandmother's reunion with my grandfather literally brought tears of joy to my eyes. The sound of exhaustion and pain in my mother's voice brought feelings of helplessness. What could I do to lesson her burden? The ending of the candlelight service on Christmas Eve led to hugs from good friends that brought me to sobs on Wally's shoulder right there in the front of the sanctuary. Perhaps I would have stayed there longer, if it weren't for one my daughters asking loudly, "What's wrong with Mom?!"

This morning, we gathered around the advent wreath and, as a family, discussed the Light of Life that has come into the world and worshipped by singing "Angels We Have Heard on High." Then the girls unwrapped gifts and toys we had bought and I had wrapped. I did delight in the joy on their faces and was thankful for the happy moments we could share.

This afternoon, Wally found me back in bed. My feelings were more than the physical exhaustion caused by the late-night-Santa-visit playing and the early-morning-Santa-visit discovering. I told him I was just sad. He encouraged me to embrace it and not try to fight it, so I allowed myself to cry

My own words from my Sunday school lesson the morning of her passing are still ringing in my ear - how Jesus' birth was God's guarantee to keep all His other promises to His people. Because He kept His word to send Jesus, I can trust that He has kept His word to my grandmother and she is in His presence even now.

I can sleep tonight knowing He will keep His word to me too. That tangle of emotions weighing on my chest includes this hope. Not only that she is truly in a better place, but that one day I will be too. In the meantime, I am not carrying this emotional mess on my own. He knows what I am feeling. I am not alone. He is with me.

I get why people drink to forget, to numb the pain, to escape. I like just having the television on for the background noise it provides. The distraction from the heaviness of these emotions is welcome. I cannot judge anyone for succumbing to the temptations of anything that will dull the distress or ease the burden for just a little while.

Pain, hope, peace, longing, helplessness, gratefulness, sadness, loneliness, joy, happiness, frustration, anger, comfort, appreciation, fear, anticipation . . .

I would describe my feelings as an emotional rollercoaster, but today, Christmas Day, that just doesn't seem accurate. Yes, there have been high highs - good things have happened today and there have been low lows - like when I debated skipping the family gathering with my husband's side of the family. But all through the highs I was still feeling lows and even at my lowest today, the highs seemed to be mingled in as well.

If emotions are defined as colors, tonight, mine would be a muddy, brown, mess.

My bags are pretty much packed and so are the rest of my crew's. We will leave first thing in the morning to be with family and prepare for the services to lay my sweet grandma to rest. We are also taking more Christmas presents with the promise of continued celebrations of the season.  

As a result, the tangled weight of emotions will continue. I didn't have to pack them for the ache  remains inside me. The sting of unexpected tears will overflow onto my hot cheeks without warning as they remain ready just beneath the thin surface of my failing attempt to hold it all together all the time.

It is all pretty raw . . .

Yet, in my head and heart I know that because of Christmas, Jesus relates to my suffering and heartache for He experienced them too. In fact, His whole life must have been one where He carried a similar burden as well. Hope with hurt, pain coupled with peace, frustration tempered with love.

This is what I will chose to focus on as I pray for sleep to come tonight.

 The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
    you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
    indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

I bless the Lord who gives me counsel;

    in the night also my heart instructs me.

I have set the Lord always before me;

    because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.

Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;

  my flesh also dwells secure.

For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,

    or let your holy one see corruption. 

You make known to me the path of life;

in your presence there is fullness of joy;

at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

Psalm 16:5-11

"Keeps Me Singing As I Go"

I read somewhere recently that when you lose a grandparent to death, part of your childhood dies with them.

I lost part of my childhood this afternoon. 

My last living grandparent, my mother's mother, died this afternoon. 

Her breathing labored, her heart tired and her mind weary, with her eyes closed as if already in sleep she breathed her last holding my mother's hand on one side and my aunt's on the other. 

Those hands were special hands. Here she is holding my cousin hand just last week - 

From a young age she used them to work, to play and to love. 

Whether in a shirt factory during the war in East Tennessee or on her family's farm caring for her 11 younger siblings, she knew the definition of hard work from a young age. She held various jobs over the years, but even during those times when she wasn't paid for her effort, her hands were never idle. 

Small palms and nimble, thin fingers with neatly filed nails could thread a needle, bait a hook and snap endless bushels of green beans. Only in her later years would the knots of arthritis and the effects of age leave their mark on her graceful hands. 

When articulating a point, she would point her narrow index finger, slightly bent at the knuckle with a cock of her wrist, to let her listeners know that she meant what she was saying. This was dubbed "The Mother Finger" and all of her daughters, granddaughters and even great-granddaughters have been known to use it on occasion. 

My grandmother loved games. Some of my earliest memories of visiting her house involved countless hours of playing Uno and Aggravation. Even through this fall, her hands could be found holding cards, game pieces and Scrabble tiles. 

Her pension for math was always keen. Her vocabulary was always growing. Her willingness to learn new things never wavered. She may have never earned a high school diploma and always resented having to drop out of school after the 8th grade, but no one playing her in any game of strategy or skill would have ever known her lack of formal education. 

As far as I was concerned, my grandmother was the best, most accomplished  seamstress ever. There was no thing that she could not sew or mend. When expecting my first daughter, I could not find any crib bedding that I liked. I described to her what I wanted and she produced the most beautiful set of red and white gingham with chenille accented bumpers, quilt and slip-cover ever done. Her handiwork even at 80 was amazing. 

Her quilts will be family heirlooms for generations to come. Many hand-pieced and hand-quilted, but all labors of love with meticulously picked out fabrics and designs are priceless treasures to any of us who have been blessed to be given these works of art. This hand-worked hobby was so much more than a way for my grandmother to pass the time. It was a tangible way she could pass her love from her own hands into the hands of the quilt's recipients. 

Even before I received my first quilt from her at 16 I knew it was special. I received another when Wally and I married. I keep each of the quilts she gifted to my daughters, her great-granddaughters, until the time they set up homes of their own. 

She did many more things with her hands demonstrating her love for me and those she loved. 

This time of year, she chose to show her love by busying her hands making candy. Peanut brittle, peanut fudge, chocolate fudge (with and without walnuts). Her confections were always a true sign of the Christmas season. Her go-to sweet to make for any gathering or occasion in my daughters' memories will forever be her lemon cake. 

Her great-granddaughters have been left a legacy from their Gee-gee that extends much further and much deeper than beautiful quilts and delicious cakes. 

For instance, they may not have memories of her caring for my grandfather in his last years or fishing by his side on the red pontoon at Lake Lockengren, but I do. I remember them building their dream house there at the lake together. Mingling their sweat, tears and sometimes blood to see their dream home become a reality. They worked their garden together and she canned endless jars of the best green beans ever. They would clean the smallest of blue gill and perch to allow my brother and I to eat the fruit of our couple of hours of fishing off the docks. I don't know how they removed all of those little, translucent bones! But with the meticulous detail, her nimble fingers would find the smallest of bones, then patiently fry up the little fish for us to eat. 

My childhood is filled with memories of playing at her house, eating her sweets, listening to her stories of growing up, and growing myself under her guidance. Staying up late, watching more television and being doted on were all perks of being her granddaughter. I liked teasing her, telling her because I was the first grandchild, I was the most favored, but she loved all of us the same yet uniquely. SO proud of each of us . . . We are her legacy, and in-turn, so are our kids. 

Yes, my childhood chapters are closed. Here at 42, some would say they've been over a long time now, years before her death this afternoon. However, who my grandmother was will live on through the generations for a long time after the works of her physical hands have faded. 

I will pass down the quilts and continue to make her cornbread to pair with my soups. But even if the quilts become lost and the recipes forgotten - who my grandmother was -her loyalty, pride and work ethic is ingrained in all of us she considered family - by blood, by name or by friendship. 

Who she was, she will always be in all of us. 

Tonight, she is finally reunited with my grandfather. Today, she is uttering the "sweetest name she knows" to her Jesus. He has "filled her every longing and keeps her singing as she goes."

In my pain missing her, I will sing with her and He will keep me singing as I go too. 

Shoulder the Responsibility

I don't know if that saying is used much any more - if someone "shoulders the responsibility," they are the one that would ultimately take charge, be the one that the buck stops with and is in control of the task at hand.

Like my high school daughter lugging her heavy backpack onto her shoulder as she heads out to take her last few midterms this morning, the responsibility for her grades and studies rests both literally and symbolically on her shoulders.

As I've pondered the prophecy passage in Isaiah this week, I have come to a new understanding of what is meant when he writes that "the government shall be on his shoulders."

Growing up in the church and living in the south, I have heard this verse countless times, but I don't think I ever really understood its meaning. I thought that it meant that the government would be "on His back," harassing Him. The authorities would be a burden to Him, hindering His work, and eventually putting Him to death - as they eventually did.

But as I've reflected on this passage over the last few days, I don't think this is what this prophecy foretells at all . . .

Like the Jews of the time of Jesus' birth, I assumed that this passage was talking about a political, ruling government. Even Jesus's disciples didn't get it and expected Jesus to liberate Israel from Roman rule. But... post the resurrection they came to understand that God had fulfilled the Davidic Covenant in another way. Yes, a descendent of David would rule forever, but His kingdom would not be defined by geographic borders or landmarks.

Jesus came not just as any ruler -but as the King of all kings and the Lord of all lords. His kingdom knows no end in either space or time, transcending and domineering over all the governments and dynasties of all the world.

Yes, that is the view from the airplane, but this concept hit much closer to home as I have been reading through my advent devotional. The revolution of who is in control of my life was hard-fought for and won on the cross, but my sinful nature still revolts and refuses to submit to the One I call "Lord."

I like being in charge of my life. I want to call the shots and arrogantly assume that I know what's best for me and those I love. I expect not to be inconvenienced and desire everyone to bend and bow to my authority. And, in doing so, I expect to be treated and served a certain way . . . Whether behind the wheel or in the checkout line, at home or at work, without intention, but by nature (my old, sinful, nature), my pride and my entitlement fights with the One who I was created to submit my will.

His Kingdom authority is where I find the most freedom. Under His rule and reign I find true, pure hope. He is the Prince of Peace and by His government the peace I enjoy is beyond sweet - my conflict with my holy, righteous God is over and, as a result, I can go to sleep at night feeling the peaceful assurance of His presence. He provides. He protects. He does all the things a good governing body should do.

Think about it. Think about what we expect from our governments. Whether local, state or federal there are specific services we want them to do for us. According to the Constitution, these duties that the government provides are done so to protect our rights. Many Americans and many Christians look to politics and government leaders to provide the things only God can give. And just like anything that begins and ends with man's capabilities we will eventually be let down.

This is why Jesus' kingdom, His rule and His authority is so much better. The government will be upon His shoulder. He is the best Ruler. Because of who He is, He can handle all the responsibility that comes with ruling and He does it with the same loving, perfection that He does everything.

By His patient grace, He handles all my revolts, never harshly, but always faithfully, reminding me that He is in charge, He knows best, and He can manage the responsibility of ruling my life.

There is a government that can handle all society's ills. There is a King that has the capabilities to rule with an amazing balance of justice and love, the world as a whole AND my heart.

He wasn't appointed King. He was born that way, not in a throne room, but a manger. Isaiah prophesied that "the government would be upon His shoulder."

Baby King Jesus come reign in me.

Hard Truth and Ridiculous Grace

I never do this, but I did this once. (Actually, I really liked the convenience so it is highly likely I will do it again!)

The song on the radio had this fantastic phrasing and I had to purchase this song.

It made me late to pick up my middle daughter from her friend's sleepover, but I opened up iTunes and and bought Tauren Wells' song, "Known."

The line I couldn't get over is in the chorus: "It's not one or the other. It's hard truth and ridiculous grace."

Neither the song or the phrase are "Christmasy." There's no mention of Jesus' birth or a star or wise man or anything - but this Christmas this song and this phrase is at the center of my worship.

To prepare for Advent this year I have been reading through Paul David Tripp's Advent devotional.   
Around the time I heard the song, I had read one of the devotional. The song and the devotion combined have transformed my holiday focus and, as a result, how I am approaching everything Christmas this year.

The gist behind the specific devotional had everything to do with receiving news...

Most of the time, when given the option, people would rather have the bad news before the good news. We hope the good news will out weigh the bad news, or at least help us feel better about the bad news.

Good news is only relative to the recipient as good if their situation deems it so. For example, for Bill Gates, stumbling upon a $20 bill is no big deal, but to me, my day's been made! And a new medical breakthrough might be considered newsworthy to most but it is only truly good news to those that the advancement will help and heal.

Tripp contends that the Good News of the manger can only be appreciated as "good" when we stop to consider the bad news that deems it necessary. Yes, God sent us the gift of Jesus because He loves us, but it is the bad news of our sin and its consequences that makes Jesus' birth a requirement.

This is "hard truth."

We are separated from our Creator. We are unable to fulfill the reason for our creation and live the way we were made to live . We are delusional, fully believing that we are self-sufficient with no need of God. We are under God's holy judgment, deserving of death. We are hopeless, seeing and knowing that we and the world we live in is broken and that we have no way to fix it.

This "hard truth" is indeed "bad news."

Ephesians 2:4 starts with one of my favorite phrases in the Bible, "But God..." This is where the "good news" that the angel told the scared shepherds comes in. This is where the song has everything to do with Christmas!

Through the gift God gave us in Jesus we receive "ridiculous grace."

Let's look at the grace part first. Through Jesus we are given what we don't deserve - that is the very definition of grace.

We now have unity with God and fellowship with our Creator. We are enabled to live as He created us to live, loving Him and our neighbor with all our heart and soul and mind. We have been given the truth and the truth as set us free. We are now alive in Christ, no longer facing death. We have hope because we understand what God has provided.

Now, take a minute to reflect on how "ridiculous" that this grace is . . .  That God would send His Son, who willingly humbled Himself to be born of His creation as a helpless, completely dependent baby to grow up and one day allow Himself to die in my place IS ridiculous!

This "ridiculous grace" is indeed "good news."

The angels called it "good news of great joy" in Luke 2. Reflecting on the truth and depth of this "good news" has transformed my holiday season. It has become more spiritual this year and less stressful. As I have contemplated this "hard truth and ridiculous grace" everything else -all the stresses and challenges. at work and at home- have assumed their proper subordinate positions in my priorities. My perspective has altered and the joy of the season isn't in my family or my service to others or my expectations of what I think Christmas should look like.

My joy this Christmas is in the real Reason for the season. This year, that truly isn't a lip service or a rote, #thisiswhatimsupposedtosay response. This Christmas my worship and celebration is motivated by "hard truth and ridiculous grace."

What's motivating your Christmas this year?

The Lack of Anniversary Cards

I thought I would drop into Walgreen's and quickly and grab an anniversary card for my love. I only had a few minutes, but since my children were not in tow, I assumed that it wouldn't take long.

It took longer than I expected.

First, I scoured the selection for "Anniversary Cards for Husbands" and began picking them up and reading them. Not finding anything that really seemed to fit, I moved on to "Anniversary Cards for Us." Again, I was disappointed by the cheesy prose and lousy use of language. I put back card after card knowing that this one wasn't right and that one was simply wrong.

I left the store frustrated and empty-handed. Not that I mind making my man a card, but I really thought I could have simply added my own thoughts to a store-bought sentiment. His love language is "Words of Encouragement" so I already knew that I would want to make whatever I bought personal to speak to our 20 years of marriage.

In the couple of hours that have passed, I have realized why none of the greetings cards worked. They ALL left out the third and the most important member of our marriage covenant to each other. All the cards were void of any mention of the God who made my groom, Wally, and I one.

In many of the cards, the gushing words, while extremely sincere, communicate a huge amount of responsibility onto the spouse. Our husbands are never meant to "complete us," "be our rock," or "the source of all our happiness." If I approach my man this way, I am asking him to fulfill a role in my life that only God can. If I do this, he is set up to fail and I am poised to be disappointed.

But when I find my completion, my rock and my happiness in God, I free Wally to be the man God created him to be - not some impossible, super-human facade I have concocted in my dreams. And freeing Wally from those expectations, God has given me an Ephesians 3:20 husband - he is immeasurably more than I could ever ask for or imagine.

God, through Wally, has changed my definition of who a husband is and what a husband does.

Marriage, between a man and a woman, was God's design from the very start of creation. Making both in His image, the groom and the bride have unique and important roles to fulfill. Our society and culture through the generations of my family and media-hyped fairy tales, led me to expect Wally to be and do things in particular ways. These expectations of mine made our first couple of years of marriage really rough on both of us.

Yet, God's grace is SO good.

As HE has grown us to be more like Him, HE has grown us closer together. When we are each individually focused on Him, HE reinforces the bond between the three of us.

Our marriage is what it is not because we gutted it out or did anything on our own. Our marriage is good because of the way God has worked in us. We have seen 20 years together because of what God has done and what He continues to do. It is His provision and His protection.

Marriage itself is intended to be symbolic of Jesus and His relationship with His Bride, The Church. By asking God to intervene and protect our marriage, we are inviting God to be Lord over it. By protecting and growing our marriage, God is protecting and proclaiming Jesus' reputation and relationship with The Church. When Wally and I are both pursuing God's will, God will make sure He is glorified in our marriage relationship.

None of the cards I read acknowledged these truths.

I wanted to buy a card that thanks my husband for the way he pursues God, for the way he points me to God and for the way he personifies God the Father to our daughters.

This is what we celebrate when we go out to eat for our anniversary. We remember what God has done for us. We thank Him for how He has provided and protected. We dream about the plans He has for us. We acknowledge His crucial role in our marriage.

Maybe there were no cards that "fit" for our anniversary because too many couples are lacking this sustaining third Person in their marriages?

There is no secret to our marriage. It is our shared prayer that our relationship will only loudly proclaim God's goodness and grace. In the ups and through the downs, may He alone be shown in the love story He is writing with our lives.

I will write Wally. I will give him my thoughts on our anniversary. I will be sappy and share an inside joke or two with my best friend. I will make sure he feels appreciated and valued. But my words to him will be laced with how God has, is, and will continue to sustain us.

Prepping for Christmas

I am officially ahead of "the game."

I am not entirely sure of the rules or even who the other players may be. I don't know if there are officials or umpires or even fans cheering on the sidelines.

But, I am sure every gal out there can relate to the craziness that is December with its endless to-do, to-buy and to-make lists. I have seen holiday planner books to help keep lists of all the lists we tend to make during the Christmas season.

This year, however, I feel like things are under control. No, I don't have all the gifts bought or the first package wrapped. I don't even know what I am buying most of the peeps on any of my lists - but I've got peace.

I have seen several things get bumped off my list until after the 25th. I have also had the extreme satisfaction of crossing several other things off my lists. Things I have never had done this early in the month are no longer dangling over my head. I've got peace.

Yes, the Big Day is getting closer with each move of the star on the girls' advent calendar that hangs on the fridge. But, it's okay. I've got peace.

With this peace comes the freedom to enJOY the lights on my tree with the coffee in my cup.

This morning, I felt a little uneasy and even a little threatened by this sense of "winning" this game the Christmas season has become. I even joked with my co-workers that I felt a little nervous too and confessed that I questioned God with what He might know is in store for my next couple of weeks.

Then as the day progressed, I realized that by His grace alone, I have been intentional to seek Him and abide in Him as this season of advent has begun to unfold.

There is nothing magical about the Paul David Tripp devotional I am reading. True, I have been worshipping to Chris Tomlin's Christmas CD in the car. Prepping to teach the ladies at church from another great advent devotional has made an impact too.

For the first time in MANY Christmases, I am intent to make sure that this season is a spiritual one for me. His Word tells us that when we seek Him we will find Him. (Jeremiah 29:12-13, Matthew 7:7) This is my game plan, my strategy and He is keeping His Word.

I have been convicted on how I prep for every other aspect of the Christmas season. I list. I stress. I run. I spend. I mean to bake. Then I wonder what happened and where the joy of the holiday went. I welcome January and the chance to start over feeling as though I missed something vital.

Don't get me wrong. From the time I was young I could tell you Jesus was the reason for the season, but my actions and attitudes rarely reflected that.

This year as I seek Him first, He is adding the rest -both in the sense of the things that "must be done" getting the attention that they need and in the sense of the "rest" that usually seems so elusive during the days after Thanksgiving.  (Matthew 6:33)

My question to you is the same question I asked my Sunday school class this week. "What are you doing to prep for Christmas?" These teens and I discussed and defined "advent" and "incarnation." Maybe I will blog about that too . . . But in the meantime, please share with me how you are preparing your heart to celebrate the birth of our Jesus?

A "Way" In A Manger

The advertisement on the back of our insurance company's monthly magazine is fantastic. I had never heard of the company, but they definitely got my attention.

Across the top of their ad was this statement, printed this way:

"aWAY in a manger

was born on the first Christmas night."

Under that was a picture of a manger on the right and in the sun set picture of the left can be found the three crosses of Calvary. 

Then along the bottom of the picture reads:

"There has been only one Christmas, the rest are anniversaries." 

I haven't been able to get this thought, this image out of my head since. My pastor mentioned the ad from the pulpit on Sunday morning. It made an impression on him too. The Christmas hymn, "Away In A Manger" has taken on a new meaning I won't soon forget. 

But as I've pondered it, I have also reflected how Jesus said He was THE way, the truth and the life. (John 14:6 - emphasis mine)

The ladies and I that meet for Bible Study on the last Friday of the month examined the names of Christ in relation to advent just this past Friday. (Check out this great resource - Unwrapping the Names of Jesus) We looked at that verse from John, but focused on how He called Himself "The Truth." Just as He isn't "a" truth, He is THE truth. 

There isn't another way to God. There isn't another truth to find. There isn't another true life out there to live or obtain. 

All other ways to God will fail. All other thoughts on Truth are Satan's attempts to distort Jesus. All other lives that are lived without Him are mere shadows and facades of what they were intended to be. 

Jesus was, is and will always be THE WAY that was born in a manger.  

Two Thoughts on Thanksgiving

I can't let today go by without putting my two cents out there on this holiday.

FIRST -
Let's be intentional about Who we are thanking on thanksgiving.

This day is not considered a religious or sacred holiday. American - yes. Motivated by faith - sadly no.

But the origins of the first thanksgiving were filled with celebrating the goodness of the God that had taken care of and provided for the pilgrims. It wasn't a "high church" holiday and they probably weren't concerned with starting an annual tradition. They were simply and intentionally thanking GOD.

Our public school teachers are not worried about the separation of church and state when they color copied turkeys or ask their students to write essays with the topic of what they are thankful for.

But when the atheist or the average non-Christ follower is thankful on Thanksgiving, who are they thanking?

As I watched "Dancing with The Stars Juniors" on Sunday night, I couldn't help but wonder who the kids were thanking when they were interviewed. The theme of the night was "thanksgiving" and they were to tell (and dance in honor of) who they were thankful for. But who were they thanking?

On Mother's Day we show appreciation to our moms, Father's Day, our dads. We rightfully have Veteran's Day to thank our Vets and Memorial Day to show appreciation for the soldiers who never made it home.

We don't pick our parents, our nation of origin, our health or our IQ. As Christians, we know and need to acknowledge that it all comes from God.

We NEED a day where we stop and say "thank You" to the God who has given and sustains and upholds it all through His Son. Thanksgiving is the perfect time to simply and intentionally thank HIM for all He has given us, is currently providing for us and promises to bless us with in the future.

SECOND -

My second thought on this holiday is a natural out pouring of the first . . .

Some may say that Christmas decorations before the turkey dinner are premature and outta place. At least get the dishes washed and put away before dragging out the tinsel and the tree.

There was a time that I would have agreed whole-heartedly with that train of thought. Not anymore.

Our decorations were put up and out last weekend. Yes, I packed away the pumpkins and set out all my snowman friends. The trees are decorated the nativity sets are displayed.

Yes, there is less stress to our holiday season. The house decorating is crossed off the ever-growing "to-do" list. We had fun placing ornaments and now we are getting to enjoy the fruits of our labor a little longer in a season that seems to go by much too quickly....

But now, there is much more intention for me in the decorating before Thanksgiving Day.

I cannot think of a better way to begin celebrating the coming of Christ than in thanksgiving. With the house dressed for the festivities of the season, I am reminded everywhere I look of the most amazing gift God gave me -Jesus and I am SO thankful.

I want to be thankful all Christmas season long and into the New Year as well. This is the holiday spirit to me, a spirit of thankfulness and thanksgiving of everything it means to have Immanuel, God with us.

The same God I am thanking on Thanksgiving is the God whose birth we celebrate at Christmas.

With all the gatherings and parties - at work, at school, for work, with this side of the family and then with that side - it's all about and for and through Him anyway . . . It's only logical to decorate before we carve the turkey and begin a celebration that lasts 6 weeks at least.

Let Thanksgiving be the kickoff party for all the festivities to come with Christ as the central focus of it all. And if that is the goal then of course the Christmas decorations SHOULD be done in the middle of November.

When I started this post, I offered these thoughts as my "two cents." I am not sure they are worth that much to you, but I felt that this is part of the whole purpose behind blogging - to share what I think about whatever. Well, these are just my two thoughts on Thanksgiving....

Grace - Saving and Covering

The posters and other promotional material were soon all over the church. Before I knew it, the same hip graphic and my name were also being pushed out on the church's social media platforms.

Honestly, it was -and still is- humbling and intimidating to see the words "Key Note Speaker" next to my name. With the idea of "Ted Talks" and the experience of attending other conferences, my fear of what the attendees might expect of me was a very real thing.

So, I decided to start my talk with a disclaimer. I am no expert.

The conference was on parenting and prayer. Yes, I am a parent. Yes, I do pray, believe in the power of prayer and can testify to prayer's efficacy. But my kids are far from grown. They have real faults and I fail them often. I don't pray like I should, often making it my last resort instead of my first and I keep my conversations with God far too general and generic.

Even before I began, I knew my 20 minute time limit would push me. I had too many pages of notes, too many quotes I wanted to share and too many thoughts I wanted to be sure and convey. I wasn't surprised as Pastor John slowly approached the front of the room from the spot in the back he had assumed after introducing me.

I found myself scrambling to finish my thoughts, silently praying that somehow, someway God would bring cohesiveness to my words and that what He wanted communicated was somehow accomplished.

From the moment I finished into the next week I fought Satan's taunts. I kept striving to hold to the belief that God had answered the prayers I prayed for the event. From the time I had been asked to speak, I had prayed that He would speak through me.

I had even recruited close friends to pray for me that way too. Faithfully, several of them approached me after the event, asking "how'd it go?" Even last night with several friends inquiring, I found myself explaining how I was just trying to trust that God somehow said what He wanted said through me.

Today, God confirmed that He did answer all those prayers.

My friend and her husband had attended the conference. Immediately afterward she complimented me and I had dismissed it as polite platitudes and discounted her words. Somehow in my head, the notes I hadn't gotten to, on top of the ways I swayed from my outline were somehow greater than the kind things she had to say.

This morning she stood in my office and renewed her gratitude for what I had shared that afternoon. I started to dismiss her kindness again, when she stopped me cold by asking me if she had already told me about her son's conversion. Knowing and loving her little man, I told her she had not, and could not wait to hear all about it.

She shared specific words I had said and how another one of the presenters had encouraged the couple as well. That very night, after those sweet parents had prayed driving home, their son made his desire clear that he wanted to be a Christian and they guided him to accept Jesus as his own.

I felt the goose bumps rise on both my arms and legs as she spoke. God had used me. He had answered my prayers and the prayers my friends and husband had prayed for me. And now, He let me see how.

He didn't have to do that. Yet, he did. I could've lived the rest of my life never knowing how He had answered my prayers - but He allowed me a glimpse into eternity to see how He did use me.

Grace upon grace.

After I finished speaking that afternoon, I attended two of the breakout sessions and took notes. Parenting and prayer are two areas of my life that I can always learn more about. I want to grow in my practices of both.

Maybe I will blog about that someday. Maybe I will share my notes here that never made it to the conference attendees that afternoon . . .

But for today, I am choosing to thank Him for the ways He answered my prayers for speaking at that conference. God gave me victory over my insecurities and short-comings. He silenced Satan's accusations. He allowed me to see how He was indeed glorified in and through this sinner's words and actions . . . His grace has saved me and it continues to cover me.

If His grace would do all that for me, I know He will use it to do all that for you too. How has God's grace covered you recently?

God's Anniversary Present to Us

I don't want to forget a thing about this past weekend.

It was absolutely perfect and a perfect reminder of just how good our God is.

Lemme explain . . .

Twenty years ago when we married, Wally and I decided that we would spend our 20th anniversary where we were blessed to honeymoon. Well, real life happened and a return trip to Maui was not in the cards this year.

But we couldn't let our December anniversary date slip into the holiday fog of obligations and responsibilities, only to be procrastinated into a later celebration that may or may not happen - not this year, not for our 20th anniversary . . .

So months ago we began to plan and anticipate a weekend away from home, daughters and distractions. I suggested we do something we had always wanted to do, but never seemed to be able to make a priority . . . We would visit Neyland Stadium and cheer on the Tennessee Vols.

Wally made the hotel reservations and bought the tickets. I packed the girls' bags and made the arrangements to spend the nights with their friends.

From the time we left the county every little detail seemed to just fall into place. At every turn we saw God's goodness and His grace. The traffic was easy. The room was nice. The conversation between us flowed.

We ate delicious food at a couple of neat Knoxville places, sampling the dishes in front of the other without having to cut up anyone else's food or coax them into taking one more bite.

Walking onto campus we followed University of Tennessee's quarterback's parents to "The Vol Walk" where we cheered the football players' and coaches' arrival to the stadium. We watched the band descend on the stadium and found where The Vol Navy was docked or anchored in the river under the  bluest sky we had seen in weeks.

When we made our way to our ticketed spots we found that "our" seats just "happened" to include the cushioned and backed stadium seats. We took off our coats and soaked up the heat of the sun for the entire first half.

Yes, the second half was a lot cooler but our guys were winning and somehow the cold didn't seem so cold. We stayed for the band to play "The Tennessee Waltz" to the players after their upset win over a ranked rival team from the state north of ours.

As we left, the fans were still chanting and cheering. Our voices were a little hoarse, but neither of us minded. We walked into downtown Knoxville and found we did not have to wait for a table at this cool, hip, tapas and tacos place.

More than once over the course of our time together, we just kept marveling at how God seemed to be blessing our little trip will lots of little extras that seemed to just be that - little extra blessings.

Why would God do that? Why would He bless us with all these seemingly insignificant "extras" all weekend long?

He is still good, and most definitely still God, if we wait for a table or don't have nice soft seats for our bums. Eternity is not altered by our enjoyment of His weather or how tasty the chicken biscuit was at breakfast.

However all weekend long, we both chose to acknowledge God as the Giver of all these good gifts. From the families that took care of our children to the unexpected win of our favorite team, we both were intentional to thank God for His provisions. He seemed to do immeasurable more than we had asked or imagined. (Eph. 3:20)

I firmly believe that God delights in giving us good things. Just as we delight in seeing our kids enjoy the gifts we give them, God loves to see us enjoy the blessings He gives us.

I firmly believe that there is no such thing as luck. Wally and I weren't lucky on our trip. We were blessed over and over again.

I firmly hope that God was glorified over and over again as we acknowledged each blessing a long the way - that He was delighted in us as we delighted in Him.

Since returning, I have been asked several times about our trip. I honestly can't imagine it going any better. I could not have written a better time. My expectations were exceeded by my God who gifted us with the best anniversary gift.

That's my God - an amazing gift giver who is even greater than the greatest gifts He gives.

He showed me in countless ways that He loves us, pursues us and does good things for us.

I know we don't deserve this attention from Him much less His attention to details in our lives, yet He goes above and beyond to see to all of the littlest things. If I open my eyes, I can see where He is at work everyday doing countless things to show me that love. I just had to get away to see it this past weekend . . .

Yes, I had an amazing time with my amazing husband. We experienced a lot and had the best time. We made some great memories - but I want to make sure I don't forget the role God played in it all. That's the memory I want to hold to the longest . . .

Mindfully Eating

Gluten-free, Dairy-free, Nut-free . . . Low fat, fat free . . . Protein, Carbs, Antioxidants . . .

Lately, as I am mindfully, intentionally trying to make "a million little decisions," (see my last post) I find myself reading more and more nutritional labels on just about everything. I even find myself paying attention to the calorie count on menus in restaurants.

The idea of "going on a diet" has never been appealing to me. I mean, does it really appeal to anyone?! If you tell me I can't eat something, that something becomes the only thing I want. Besides, diets just don't seem practical for long-term, real-life living.

So, for me, I am trying to approach my food decisions with the idea of moderation. Sodas and sweets but smaller portions and only so much. Bread and pasta but less of it. Small protein-packed snacks often because my husband and daughters can tell you I am not at all pretty or the least bit kind when I am "hangry."

Saturday, for example, I knew my husband and I would have a date night. Dinner would be out and without kids. I decided to eat a smarter breakfast and then a salad for lunch. At dinner I didn't think twice when we ordered cheesy naan with our Indian food entrees.

Food - what I eat, how and when I eat it - has now consistently become something that requires much more thought and planning and consideration. I would even say that this kind of intentionality has become habitual.

I was contemplating this new "hobby" of mine when I came across this quote on Instagram about Bible reading:

"This means taking in his words at a more reflective and enjoyable (you might even say 'leisurely') pace - rather than rushing through to cover as much ground as possible. I remind myself that the goal is to find food for my soul . . . not check reading plan boxes and just avail my mind of additional biblical data. Call it 'eating-mindfully' . . . whatever you call it, finding a slower pace goes hand in hand with faithfully gathering a day's portion." -David Mathis, (Desiring God, 9-2-18)

This reminded me of the Israelites that were to only gather one day's portion of manna as they were wandering in the desert. In the book of Deuteronomy, Moses explains that the reason for the manna and its portion restrictions, were to teach God's people to know that man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. (Duet. 8:3)

Like the Israelites, I need a daily portion and I need it to LIVE. What kind of portion am I surviving on?

Living on this side of the cross and at this point in HIStory, we have the Word of God conveniently wrapped and packaged for us in all kinds of ways. However, with all its ease and accessibility, I take it for granted and still not "eat" it wisely. I believe we still need to read the labels, do some research and make sure we are getting quality stuff when we study God's Word. 

Just because the packaging is pretty or the "Christian" you know on Facebook has given her endorsement, it may not be solid in it's theology. Anything out there professing to be Godly needs to measured against the Word of God itself - we can't settle for anything else. 

AND - confession time- I need to make sure when I am taking in God's Word that I am studying it on a level that will challenge me. I need to be chewing on a passage that is hard for me to understand or difficult for me to apply. I need this solid food to grow. 

Didn't Paul write about believers needing more than milk? I like milk. I am used to milk. It's a comfort food for me and makes me feel good - especially with hot, fresh from the oven chocolate-chip cookies! 

The question for me is how am I approaching God's Word? Is my Bible reading only motivated by my desire to scratch something else off my to-do list? Am I only reading it to prep for Bible study I am teaching? Or am I reading it, searching in it, for what it is that God wants to speak to my soul today?

Not having that kind of Bible reading experience you want? Join me in my prayer that God will open our eyes to see and consume His Word the way He intends for us. I believe His Word in John where He tells us we don't have because we don't ask AND that if we seek Him we will find Him. 

Why do I believe these things? I read it -over and over again - in His Word until it finally sinks in and I am able to digest in a way that continues to do my heart good . . . 

Besides if I am going to use so much brain power and time focused on the physical food I am putting into my physical body, I think it is time to devote some additional brain power and time to focus on what I am feeding my soul. How about you?

"A Million Little Decisions"

Looking back, of course I was standing in the buffet line, loading my plate with casseroles and desserts, when she asked me how my husband felt about the baby. She said, "He must be so excited!" I looked at her more than a little confused. My "baby" was four. Whose baby had she seen Wally with? From my reaction, she quickly covered her mistake with the statement, "I don't know where I heard you were expecting."

I still didn't get it.

At the time, I believed that she had heard a rumor somewhere and not that she assumed from my weight that I as pregnant.

At the time, I was pretty ignorant. Sure, I knew my body shape had changed and that the scales were reading heavier than they ever had, BUT, I had a whole list of excuses:
 -My body had simply changed after birthing three children.
-"They" weren't making clothes true to size anymore.
-Weight gain is a common side effect of my medication.
-It's hormonal.
-My bathroom scale is inaccurate.

At this time, I can look back at this list and see the absurdity in it. There is enough truth to them that the lies of each were easy to believe. The weight gain hadn't happened over night and neither had my disconnect with my self-image. In my head, I thought looked one way, but the reality was different.

I was beginning to not like how I looked in ANY picture and I found myself trying to avoid being photographed. My favorite jeans were no longer comfortable. I didn't like how I looked in anything I tried on in dressing room and I would refuse to try on anything above a "certain" number.

In my ignorance I assumed that my health issues were unrelated, but when my cardiologist explained that I would need to remain on my beta-blocker for, well, perhaps for the rest of my life, I had to ask him what I could do to not need that drug.  After all, at not quite 42 and in overall good health, this seemed a bit drastic. He was kind. He never said I was overweight. He didn't put me on a diet or give me brochures about cholesterol. He did point out that losing some weight would give my heart a break and then -maybe, I wouldn't need the prescription.

As we left the office all the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place - the lady at the buffet, the tight jeans, the way I looked in the family Easter portrait. The truth of the doctor's words slowly exposed the reasons I had used to be the excuses they were.

I needed to lose weight.

I needed to lose it the right way for the right reasons in the right timing.

I didn't want to send the wrong message to my impressionable daughters. I didn't want my expectations to be unrealistic. I didn't want to obsess over a number on the scale.

Prayerfully, God led me to examine and evaluate little decisions each and every day.

His Word tells me not to worry about tomorrow, but to focus on the gift of THIS day. I don't know what will happen in the next 24 hours, nor can I change what happened in the last 24 - but I can take each day, each decision as it comes.

His Word promises that the Holy Spirt will strengthen and guide me and provide a way to stand up under temptation.

So, through His help and over the last  5 months, I have drastically cut carbs and soda. I have made moderate exercise a priority and just tried to be intentional about what I eat, when I eat and how I eat. By His grace, I have lost some weight, my clothes fit better and people have noticed.

I have prayed about writing about this on here because I have not wanted to draw attention to this part of my journey, but God has definitely used it to speak truth to me in some ways I think He is wanting me to share -

Like my weight gain, sin creeps up on us all. It doesn't hit us all at once but begins to take its toll on our lives and well-being. We can make excuses and sweep it under the rug until one day we don't like what we see when we look in the mirror. We don't know how we got that way or what we really need to do about it - until we are confronted with the truth.

My Dr. Myers plainly presented me with the truth. His role in this is similar to the Holy Spirit's. To be honest the self-evaluation that follows is hard. None of us want to accept that kind of truth, taking ownership of how we've fallen and seeing what we've become.

While God's forgiveness is complete with our sincere repentance, the journey back to a healthy relationship with Him is often hard and time consuming. It is made up of lots and lots of small decisions each and every day - to pray or not, to read His Word or not, to obey in this situation or not, to respond in a Christ-honoring way or not, to consume this media, to spend this time on tech, to look for Him, to let Him be Lord . . .

When the effort is made, when we are faithful in the small things over time, the old, sinful self melts away and the hearts of flesh He is creating in us beats ever stronger. His presence in our lives is more intimately felt as we grow as His disciples.

The small things are important. Each decision we make either draws us closer or pulls us away from where we need to be. Are we losing ground? Are we gaining weight? Are we shedding sin? Are we building spiritual muscle?

This is how we "do" life with Him. This is how we abide. It's in the "million little decisions" we make each day. All those little things slowly and surely add up to big differences - a life of faith lived out in real ways.

My prayer is that we will train and run with perseverance the race marked out for us. (Hebrews 12:1-2)

Disney Cast Members In Real Life

She was 20 years and from New Zealand. I asked her how her parents felt about her being so far away and she kinda laughed. "Well, they were concerned about the hurricane. I didn't even know about the hurricane!"

My new friend, Christyana, was managing the Fast Pass Kiosk of the Frozen Sing-a-Long Show at Disney's Hollywood Studios.

We were there early for the 7:30 show, the last show of the day, and I began our short conversation by commenting on her accent.

The Disney Parks are staffed by countless people varying in ages and backgrounds from literally all around the globe. They are all called "Cast Members" whether they dress up as a mouse or clean the bathrooms. Their name tags are a simple oval shape with their name and hometown. And they are literally EVERYWHERE.

Disney is known for their immaculately clean parks and excellent customer service - all accomplished by Cast Members.

As a guest in the park it would be extremely easy to take these people and their jobs for granted. They are rushed by, overlooked and often ignored. They deal with grumpy, sweaty, people who often feel entitled because of the price they may have paid for admittance. Yet, they ALL seem to smile and speak in pleasant tones even when explaining why your child cannot climb on the landscaping.

In the last year, we had a good friend spend not one but two semesters working a ride in Pandora of the Animal Kingdom Park. Cast Members took on a new meaning to us as we visited Walt Disney World over fall break. We had listened to her stories and had asked her a bazillion questions, learning how often Cast Members just longed to be acknowledged as people too.

While on past trips we had always tried to be nice to Cast Members, this trip we were intentional to look Cast Members in the eyes, to say a genuine "thank you" and, when we could, strike up a conversation. . .

That's how I met Christyana. She wasn't just a show kiosk attendant. She IS a person with a background and a story and a soul. She is one of nearly 60,000 that may work there during a peak season.

But there is only one Christyana. God made her, loves her, sent His Son to die for her and wants a relationship with her - just like every other Cast Member - and every other "incidental" person that I share the road with, stand in line at the grocery with and sit with in the dentist's waiting room.

Knowing in my heart that God is sovereign and that nothing happens accidentally, my intentionality at Disney NEEDS to carry over to my everyday life here at home too.

I often tell the teens in my Sunday school class that it isn't accidental that they sit where they do in their classes. Even if their teacher allowed them to choose their seat, God put them there with those kids and that teacher for His purpose.

If I hold to His control over ever incident and nothing is coincidental, then that truth carries over in other places too.  

The chances I will ever see or speak to Christyana again aren't great. I didn't speak to her about Jesus. I know nothing about her faith - but I do know about mine.

My faith doesn't allow me to blow past and not engage those around me and it compels me to speak up, reaching out to acknowledge the humanity and Imago Dei, the image of God, He intentionally placed in us all.

My prayer is that as I do engage people in conversation that the Holy Spirit will move and speak and use these encounters to draw others to Himself.

My calling is to be obedient to that compulsion, trusting that God knows the heart and the past of the individual I am engaged with and that He will take care of all the rest - whatever it needs to be. I just need to see others the way He does and obey.

My husband, Wally, and I have said since our first joint visit to Disney World ten years ago that when we "retired" we would move to Orlando and get jobs as Cast Members. Loving the discount and being assured that our girls would bring their families to visit were two of the perks we listed as reasons for this plan. Another reason would be to set up an intentional ministry to Cast Members. Maybe they would come from all over the globe thinking that they were coming to work at "The Happiest Place on Earth," but maybe, God in His sovereignty would have them coming there to meet Him. Maybe God would use us to reach them.

Maybe there are Cast Members here in our every day life that God wants to reach through us now.

Lord, open my eyes to see the people "in the background" of my life. Help me to see them the way that you do. Find me obedient to the prompting of Your Spirt and use me however You will to do whatever You would have me to do. 

Thoughts and Feelings

I got off the phone and could feel the lump in my throat rising. The hot tears began to sting my eyes. I did not want to cry.

My head knew that God was in control, He would provide and His timing was always perfect. But my tears revealed the reality of what had happened in my heart.

I had slowly but ever-so-surely in my inmost being taken back control of what I would have professed with my mouth that I had given to God, claimed was His and thought I had entrusted to Him.

In the grand scheme of life, the situation was far from life-threatening or even life-altering, but the tears that spilled down my cheeks and my cracking voice revealed so much more. Their presence revealed my true lack of faith and how I had begun trusting in my own abilities at some point. At some point my sinful pride had entered into the equation and the unexpected phone call was God's gracious way of waking me up to its presence.

He could have allowed me to go on that way - thinking that I had everything under control and I was handling things oh-so-well and I was providing. But He didn't. He intervened. He exposed my sin.

The exposure was private. He didn't want to shame me publicly. He DID want to wake me to the unintentional place I was in. He loves like that - not wanting me to remain in the darkness but to use the light to show me where He is working. (Had I proceeded in the way I was and not acknowledged my sin, HIs next "wake-up call" to me may have been more public. He loves me THAT much. He will do the hard things.)

That day my tears of frustration melted into tears of embarrassment and then tears of confession.

Unknowingly, I had accepted and adopted these sinful tendencies. My mind still knew all the "right" words and thoughts, but my heart was far from actually believing and walking in them. My emotions that Friday afternoon were the barometer that God used to show me how far my heart had wandered from what I thought . . .

His restoration was sweet and His reconciliation to Himself was simply good.

In the days that followed, I was able to rest. He gently told my soul, "This is mine. I have always had it. I will take care of it."  I was able to leave it in His more-than-capable hands. He continued to be faithful. I turned my attention to my family. He blessed our time together and allowed me to go through the week without worry.

It's been two weeks today since I got that phone call. This issue is not resolved, but He is providing. My prayer life and my perspective are changed. My faith is growing. He is more than sufficient. And I am learning even more about abiding in Him . . .

Writing In Pencil

I guess it was somewhere toward the end of elementary school when it happened. Pencils were no longer cool to write with. Teachers WANTED final copies of important assignments done in ink and pencils were regulated to math only.

Even the plain black and ordinary blue inks seemed vibrant next to the dull graphite on the page. As a girl, I loved the gel pens of every imaginable color and even now, I find myself drawn to their beautiful colors and bright packaging.

However, in the last few months something has changed. The pendulum has swung back to the good old number 2s.  I have found that the old, standby is incredibly valuable to me and my sanity. It has been a gradual and unintentional shift, but I have definitely made a change.

Instead of reaching for my favorite ink pen - and I do have a nice one my momma bought me for Christmas, I find myself reaching for the matching mechanical pencil.

Why? The answer is amazingly simple - the eraser.

Last year, when I couldn't find a planner or agenda to meet my needs, I resorted to making my own bullet journal. I found it practical to meet our family's crazy scheduling needs and my own desire to keep everything I needed to keep us organized in one place.

When I first looked up bullet journalling ideas on Pinterest I quickly decided to set my bar pretty low for creativity and style. There are some pretty elaborate and easily overwhelming ideas to immolate on its endless boards of pins and posts. My journal would HAVE to been practical to work for me and I would HAVE to make sure my expectations would be realistic.

I didn't create a scrapbook type archive, but from a small, Walmart-bought, spiral notebook I found a place to write my to-do lists, keep a calendar, and make records of bills paid, notes written and Christmas gifts bought.

But, I found myself hesitant to write within the simple pages in ink. What if plans changed? What if I didn't allow enough room? What if the ink bled through to the next page?

So, I reached for the pencil.

Knowing I could erase, I felt more free to be more creative. If I didn't like it, I could erase it and start over. Also, I found if plans changed, because, let's face it they do - I could erase the entry and move it.

Life rarely goes like I plan. My plans often change or are changed for me. Putting them in pencil somehow makes them less set and makes it less traumatic when they alter. It gives me a way to hold my agenda and expectations more loosely.

Because the journal is my calendar and "command center," I carry it with me pretty much everywhere. As a result, so does a pencil. There are times now where I can't find a pen, but I have my trusty pencil.

One Sunday, while listening to the sermon I wanted to make a note in my Bible. It was one of those times that I couldn't find my pen, so I reached for the pencil. Again, it was liberating to write on the thin page in pencil. I erased and moved my note. Now, I find myself making more and more of these little pencil insights in my Bible.

I realize that our perfect God doesn't make mistakes. He has no need for an eraser. That fact is one of the reasons that I praise Him. His Word tells me that He has already written all my days in His book before one of them ever came to be. That is another fact that I praise Him for. Because of His perfection, He could write those days for me in a Sharpie marker.

As I write in pencil in my bullet journal and my Bible, I am student, a disciple of His learning how number my days that I might gain a heart of wisdom (Psalm 90:12). At least in my mind, as I write in pencil, I am more flexible to let the Lord direct my steps (Psalm 37:23). His plans and ways are higher than mine anyway (Isaiah 55:9), so shouldn't I make all plans in pencil to begin with? I want Him to have the freedom to change my plans. Writing them in pencil keeps me from holding my plans so tightly.

While my weekly to-do list is not grand, I want God free to dictate how I spend my afternoon. Seeing my plans written in pencil, I can easily slide something from today to tomorrow or even next week. I am able to better prioritize what really needs to be done to what doesn't. I have found windows of opportunity to simply be still and know He is God all because I have passed over the pen for a pencil.

It is in these everyday decisions and activities that the Holy Spirit and I are building a lifetime of faithful obedience. My pencil has become a tool in this process of sanctification and it is working right now for me.

It's a simple change but it has had huge implications for how I look at my days, myself and my God.

Seeking Prayers

You know you're on to something that the Holy Spirit is trying to tell you when . . .

 . . . the pastor preaches on that same subject.

I had been mulling over God's response to our prayers for a couple of weeks now and even blogged about it earlier this week.

I want to pray prayers that God always answers "yes" to.

Jesus says we don't have because we don't ask - so what is happening when we ask and we don't receive what it is we are asking for?

The pastor this morning pointed out that God is like the parent who knows what's best for us and denies us what we want when it does not coincide with what is best for us.

So, how do we know what is best for us? How do we know what we should ask for?

He used a couple of "famous" scriptures to back up his points. I know you've heard these. You may have one hanging on some artwork in your house or maybe you are sipping from a LifeWay bought mug with the words emblazoned on the side -

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and it will be given to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened."

Matthew 7:7-8

After discussing this verse, he pointed out that it follows the other verse from the previous chapter that also talks about "seeking" - 

"But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."

Matthew 6:33

I have accepted that on this side of heaven, I will never be an expert pray-er. I will always be seeking and learning how to better pray. But I know from these passages that as I seek the kingdom of God and His righteousness that my prayers - the things I ask God for, will be better in line with His will for me. I will learn how to ask for the things I should ask for. He will change the things I ask for.

As I read His Word and study His ways, I will learn more and more. I will be reminded that His ways are higher than mine.  As a result, I will not always know how to pray as I should. But, I know He is good. He is faithful. He will add "these things to" me. He will give me what I ask. He will open the door. 

• If my prayer is for a deeper desire to pray this way - He will answer "yes" because it glorifies Him and draws me closer to Him. 
• If my prayer is know and experience His kingdom and His righteousness - He will answer "yes" because it glorifies Him and draws me closer to Him. 
• If my prayer is in line with His character and making me more like Him - He will answer "yes" because it glorifies Him and draws me closer to Him. 

Through prayer He grows my faith and teaches me more about Himself. Prayer is a spiritual discipline that is crucial to me being made over to be the God-follower that Christ died to make me to be.

Prayer is definitely one of the ways God is working on me in my present tense.

Answering "Yes"

Sometimes, as a parent I feel like all I ever say is "no."

Sometimes, it seems like my kids have lost their common sense to ask me some of the things that they ask me.

Sometimes, they realize this before they ever ask. Anyone of them will preface their question with the phrase, "I know what you're gonna say, but ________."

My response to this last tactic is to ask them back, "Then why are you asking me?!"

The thing is, I think they know something. Not that it is likely that I will change precedent, but that they know that I WANT to say "yes."

I want to make them happy, to give them what they want, and to enthusiastically grant their wishes. (Even if their greatest wish at that moment is to eat a large bowl of ice-cream 5 minutes before dinner - I mean, who doesn't want to eat dessert first?!)

As our perfect, heavenly Father I believe God wants the same thing we do as parents. He wants to say "yes!"

We can trust that He will always say the right thing to us at the right time. He is always faithful to keep His word to provide for us what, when and how -whatever we need - most often without our "pleases" and "thank yous."

Too often I come to Him with my long grocery list of requests, some more sincere and heartfelt than others. Too often I come to Him assuming I know how He is going to answer my prayers before I ask them - if I decide to ask them at all. My lack of faith paralyzes me from even uttering many prayers . . .
Yet, He still wants me to pray, to ask, to seek Him.

If I want God to answer a prayer with a "yes" how then should I pray?

What are the prayers that God always answers "yes" to?

Anytime I have asked for more of Him - His presence, His wisdom, His glory, His Being - He has always shown up, revealing Himself to me, growing my faith and opening my eyes to Him.

Anytime I have confessed my sin - my pride, my prejudices, my desire for lesser things - He has always been faithful to forgive me, to restore me and to change me.

Anytime I have been hurt or lonely or afraid and I have simply whispered His name - He has always been there, proving His presence to me and giving me hope to press on.

How does He do it? How does He communicate all of that to me?

At times through worship or an encouraging friend's kind words - but always, always, always through His Word.

If I want to pray prayers that God will answer with a "yes" I need to know how to pray - not to get my desired results, but His. How do I know what God desires? By being in His Word, by reading how Jesus prayed, by learning His character . . .

Although, my tendency is not to approach Bible study and Bible reading this way. I want to check it off my to do list or add to my list of religious accomplishments - not really glean an applicable truth for my life.

I came across this quote recently on Instagram:

"...taking in his words at a more reflective and enjoyable (you might even say 'leisurely') pace - rather than rushing through to cover as much ground as possible. I remind myself that the goal is to find food for my soul . . . not check boxes and just avail my mind of additional biblical data . . Call it 'eating mindfully'. . . whatever you call it, finding a slower pace goes hand-in-hand with faithfully gathering a day's portion." - David Mathis

I realized that in my task-oriented day with my long list of responsibilities it is easy for me to miss what I really need when I read God's Word. As my loving, Heavenly Father, He wants to speak to me. He wants to spend quality time with me. Like a child with a short attention span or an easily distracted teen, I trade this opportunity for an audience with the King of the World for lesser things. 

When I am honest with myself and with Him - I don't want the kind of relationship He wants to have with me. I want the things He can give me or do for me. I don't want Him. This is painfully evident in an objective look in how I pray . . . SO often I pray and "obey" thinking He doesn't already know my real motives. My prayers are feeble attempts to manipulate Him into giving me "yeses" for the things I want.

1 Chronicles 16:11 tells me to "Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually." In all transparency - I don't want to do that. That does not sound like fun. That seems boring. 

So, what should I do? I have found to ask God something that He will always answer with a "yes." 

Anytime, any of us asks Him to give us a deeper, more real desire to be with Him, to be in His word, to want to want Him - He always answers "YES!"

The process of how He answers that prayer may be hard and even painful. Deuteronomy 30:6 tells us: "And the Lord your God will circumcise your heart and the heart of your off-spring, so that you will love the Lord your God will all your heart and with all your soul, that you may live." 

Obviously, I have never experienced physical circumcision. I do know that it involves cutting. I can imagine that it could be very painful in very sensitive ways. This spiritual circumcision of our hearts is no different. 

What does God use to cut out the bad parts of our hearts, the parts that want the gifts but not the Giver? 

His Word. Check out Hebrews 4:12: "For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, discerning the thoughts and intensions of the heart."

Now that's sharp. 

And it's another reason to be in, really in - His Word. 

Notice that as parents, that the above verse from Deuteronomy says that God will circumcise the hearts of our off-spring as well. As we read and are in the Word, we must expose our kids to it too. As much as I want God to answer my prayers with "yeses" I want Him to answer their prayers that way too . . . How am I teaching them to pray? How am I teaching them to read God's Word? What is the example that I am setting?

I want to answer my kids with "yes," and I want God to answer me with "yes." What's the condition of my heart? What does His Word say about it? Is it about me and what I want OR is it all about Him and what He wants?

Prayer and Bible study go hand-in-hand and are both necessities of spiritual growth. How we pray and what we pray for is directly impacted by what we learn from what God communicates to us in His Word.