“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.”
2 Corinthians 1: 3-4
Father,
My loving and gracious Father, how desperate I am for your comfort, to know the gentle firmness of your arms as they lift me out of my troubles. How I long to know the safety of your wings as you hide me so that I might rest and find healing for my wounds. My heart is laid open before you, aching day after day, empty and breaking in ways that even I cannot understand. Arrows of rejection pierce at my soul, and hopes seemingly dashed gnaw at my very existence, and I find myself without comfort or understanding. Bitterness seeks to wash over me to pull me under and away from your grasp. You and you alone know the ache of my heart; You and you alone. Oh my savior, my redeemer, the hope of my life and the answer to my every cry, you have known ache beyond my understanding, you have given it all that my heart might be healed. I place my every hurt in your hands. I am yours and yours alone, my beloved, and into your healing hands I lay all of the broken pieces of my heart, and I trust, that somehow, some way, you will make it whole again.
How I need You. I long for You and You alone.
Your Beloved
“I am my beloved’s and He is mine.”
Song of Solomon 6:3
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Day 62: A Call to Prayer
“The first thing I want you to do is pray. Pray every way you know how, for everyone you know.”
1 Timothy 2:1
A call to prayer…
For me, there is little that is more serious than a message from a loved one, a friend, my church, my nation, or even the world at large than a Call to Prayer.
Sometimes, it is as close as I can get to help someone, when they are separated by distance, when my hands cannot reach in and help, when nothing that I can accomplish in my human capabilities would be the solution. God is there, sending my love, hearing my concerns, knowing their pain, and loving even more than I possibly can.
Late yesterday evening as I was finishing a time of writing, an urgent message came from a dear friend. Her daughter had just recently delivered a beautiful baby boy, and now both of them were being rushed to the hospital. She was asking for prayer. My heart gripped, and I found myself sitting at my computer, head in my hands, seeking my Father for all I was worth for this tiny boy and his mommy.
Moments later, I was able to share the request with other dear friends that I knew would immediately be moved to prayer as well. And they did, woman after woman, warrior’s on their knees, waging war for a little one and his mother, trusting our Father to intervene.
I understand little about the ways of prayer, and yet I know we are called. Called to call upon a father who sees our every need and is waiting to hear our voices, our groans, our sighs, and of course our outward prayers of our inward trust in Him.
I tossed and turned in my sleep all throughout the evening, yet in brief moments of cloudy awareness, I heard their names in my mind, and I knew even in my sleep, somehow I was still praying for them.
Baby and mama are healing now, but still I know my call is to pray in every way I know how, and they will continue to be on my prayer list, until baby boy grows strong as an oak, and mama knows the rest and peace of God’s gracious hand.
“For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of this world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds." 2 Corinthians 10: 3-4
A worthy calling; woman of prayer… I pray you will join me in heeding the call.
My Father,
How amazing it is that you not only listen to the words of my heart, my callings, but You first call me. Guide my prayers, and make me a woman who is faithful in prayer, that I make wage a battle worthy of the fight, and see the goodness of your hand in the lives of everyone I know!
Your Beloved
1 Timothy 2:1
A call to prayer…
For me, there is little that is more serious than a message from a loved one, a friend, my church, my nation, or even the world at large than a Call to Prayer.
Sometimes, it is as close as I can get to help someone, when they are separated by distance, when my hands cannot reach in and help, when nothing that I can accomplish in my human capabilities would be the solution. God is there, sending my love, hearing my concerns, knowing their pain, and loving even more than I possibly can.
Late yesterday evening as I was finishing a time of writing, an urgent message came from a dear friend. Her daughter had just recently delivered a beautiful baby boy, and now both of them were being rushed to the hospital. She was asking for prayer. My heart gripped, and I found myself sitting at my computer, head in my hands, seeking my Father for all I was worth for this tiny boy and his mommy.
Moments later, I was able to share the request with other dear friends that I knew would immediately be moved to prayer as well. And they did, woman after woman, warrior’s on their knees, waging war for a little one and his mother, trusting our Father to intervene.
I understand little about the ways of prayer, and yet I know we are called. Called to call upon a father who sees our every need and is waiting to hear our voices, our groans, our sighs, and of course our outward prayers of our inward trust in Him.
I tossed and turned in my sleep all throughout the evening, yet in brief moments of cloudy awareness, I heard their names in my mind, and I knew even in my sleep, somehow I was still praying for them.
Baby and mama are healing now, but still I know my call is to pray in every way I know how, and they will continue to be on my prayer list, until baby boy grows strong as an oak, and mama knows the rest and peace of God’s gracious hand.
“For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of this world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds." 2 Corinthians 10: 3-4
A worthy calling; woman of prayer… I pray you will join me in heeding the call.
My Father,
How amazing it is that you not only listen to the words of my heart, my callings, but You first call me. Guide my prayers, and make me a woman who is faithful in prayer, that I make wage a battle worthy of the fight, and see the goodness of your hand in the lives of everyone I know!
Your Beloved
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Day 61: Pray For Me
“I have one request, dear friends: Pray for me, pray strenuously with and for me –– to God the Father, through the power of the Master Jesus, through the love of the Spirit...”
Romans 15:30
Since the beginning of our courtship, my husband and I have made a habit of leaving messages for each other in one form or another. So many days I would come out to my car to find a tender note tucked in the dashboard, or attached to the window. In response, I began the practice of sending a quick text message when I thought something sweet about him during the day, so as not to let my feelings go unexpressed. Notes have been hidden in lunch totes, and cards of sentiment were carefully chosen to express our love at holidays.
Several of these cards and messages have found their way to a mirror that hangs in our bathroom; a homemade certificate redeemable for a birthday trip to Maui, a Valentine card reminding him that He is my One and Only, a business card with a tiny love note scrawled on the back, each a physical reminder of the thoughts we want each other to carry with them as they go through the day.
Recently, as I finished a time of prayer, talking to my Father, expressing my love, my need and my gratitude, asking Him for so many things, for myself and for so many others, I realized that right at the moment, I too needed to know that I was on someone’s prayer list.
My husband had often expressed to me that he didn’t think he was that good at praying, but he has made a habit of dropping whatever he is doing to pray for me whenever I ask. As far as I am concerned the immediate prayer of a sincere and concerned man is about as good as prayer gets, and so I added one more note to our mirror, a request for prayer:
Pray for Me!!!!
That God will make me the woman He has called me to be.
That He will guide my paths and if it is His will inspire my writing and give me the discipline to write daily.
That He will give me the knowledge, understanding and discipline to finish my Bachelor’s program.
That He will give me health, and help me to eat well, and exercise.
That He will make me a good wife and mother that shines for Him!
I love you and I need your prayers!!!
It doesn’t matter who we are, if our lives are in a season of struggle or abounding in blessing, whether we are young or old, affluent or financially stretched to our limit, each and every one of us needs the prayer and support of our fellow believers.
I don’t often know who is praying for me, and likewise, I know that I pray often for some who may never know that God has put them on my heart. Still there are times when I just have to know that one other person, just one, is in the trenches with me, calling on God on my behalf. I have made a commitment to follow through when a friend, loved one or even someone I am just getting to know asks for prayer. I know that I am not the solution, but I know the One who is.
My husband read my request for prayer, and I know without question that he is bringing me consistently before my Father in heaven. As is our habit, he sent me a message in return filled with words I didn’t even know I needed to hear. The note read:
I am praying for you my wife.
Be stout of heart.
I love you.
I cannot think of better words. I am praying for him, too.
Lord,
I know that you are not concerned with the beauty of our words, but rather with the intent of our hearts. Thank you that you have given me a husband that is faithful to support me in prayer, and with so very many beautiful words and deeds. He is a gift. Teach me to be faithful I prayer Father, and may others be refreshed, even as I have been refreshed by the gift of knowing that I am not alone in my prayers, nor in life.
Your Beloved
Romans 15:30
Since the beginning of our courtship, my husband and I have made a habit of leaving messages for each other in one form or another. So many days I would come out to my car to find a tender note tucked in the dashboard, or attached to the window. In response, I began the practice of sending a quick text message when I thought something sweet about him during the day, so as not to let my feelings go unexpressed. Notes have been hidden in lunch totes, and cards of sentiment were carefully chosen to express our love at holidays.
Several of these cards and messages have found their way to a mirror that hangs in our bathroom; a homemade certificate redeemable for a birthday trip to Maui, a Valentine card reminding him that He is my One and Only, a business card with a tiny love note scrawled on the back, each a physical reminder of the thoughts we want each other to carry with them as they go through the day.
Recently, as I finished a time of prayer, talking to my Father, expressing my love, my need and my gratitude, asking Him for so many things, for myself and for so many others, I realized that right at the moment, I too needed to know that I was on someone’s prayer list.
My husband had often expressed to me that he didn’t think he was that good at praying, but he has made a habit of dropping whatever he is doing to pray for me whenever I ask. As far as I am concerned the immediate prayer of a sincere and concerned man is about as good as prayer gets, and so I added one more note to our mirror, a request for prayer:
Pray for Me!!!!
That God will make me the woman He has called me to be.
That He will guide my paths and if it is His will inspire my writing and give me the discipline to write daily.
That He will give me the knowledge, understanding and discipline to finish my Bachelor’s program.
That He will give me health, and help me to eat well, and exercise.
That He will make me a good wife and mother that shines for Him!
I love you and I need your prayers!!!
It doesn’t matter who we are, if our lives are in a season of struggle or abounding in blessing, whether we are young or old, affluent or financially stretched to our limit, each and every one of us needs the prayer and support of our fellow believers.
I don’t often know who is praying for me, and likewise, I know that I pray often for some who may never know that God has put them on my heart. Still there are times when I just have to know that one other person, just one, is in the trenches with me, calling on God on my behalf. I have made a commitment to follow through when a friend, loved one or even someone I am just getting to know asks for prayer. I know that I am not the solution, but I know the One who is.
My husband read my request for prayer, and I know without question that he is bringing me consistently before my Father in heaven. As is our habit, he sent me a message in return filled with words I didn’t even know I needed to hear. The note read:
I am praying for you my wife.
Be stout of heart.
I love you.
I cannot think of better words. I am praying for him, too.
Lord,
I know that you are not concerned with the beauty of our words, but rather with the intent of our hearts. Thank you that you have given me a husband that is faithful to support me in prayer, and with so very many beautiful words and deeds. He is a gift. Teach me to be faithful I prayer Father, and may others be refreshed, even as I have been refreshed by the gift of knowing that I am not alone in my prayers, nor in life.
Your Beloved
Monday, March 21, 2011
Day 60: He Will Never Give Up
“God, who got you started on this spiritual adventure, shares with us the life of His Son, and our Master, Jesus. He will never give up on you. Never forget that.”
1 Corinthians 1:9
Though my dark and broken days are truly behind me, still the memory of them can almost instantly be before me and try to wrestle the joy of a bright morning into the deep abyss of a black night. Even an answered prayer, a relationship restored, or a wound healed can suddenly be the catalyst for a remembrance of from whence I came, and to say it plainly, WHENCE was not a lovely place, and I have no desire to return, to go a-visiting, or even to recall that locale in my thoughts.
The heartbreak of that time in my life was that it did not occur before I first gave my life to this loving and life altering Savior, but rather it planted itself right it the middle of my Christian life, glaring and grotesque like a fatal accident on a green and grassy highway.
The trouble with this tragedy of my own doing, is that I simply had to go there. I not only lacked in understanding how truly each and every human soul has the capacity for darkness, but I also had a strong dose of human capability that I unwittingly relied on at every turn.
No, neither life, nor death, nor fire, nor loss, nor lack of funds, nor illness could break me.
A household of children, bring it on, add a husband struggling with pain and addiction, let it be…and where empathy and graciousness towards my fellow man should have been the hallmark of my life,I became a clanging gong. Even to the ones I loved most, mercy and grace was not my portion.
Years have passed since the days of my descent in the darkness of mental brokenness, blatant sin, and hurts inflicted on those that I should have loved, and without question I deserved no kindness in return.
The Message translation of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians notes that he writes his letter not to a people who have never known Christ as their Master, but rather to a people who while in Paul’s presence came to know the saving grace of a loving God. In Paul’s absence, young and not mature in their faith, they returned to their old strongholds, and like me relied on tried and true behaviors. Paul does not reject them, nor does he condemn them, but rather he affirms again his love, and even greater the constant love of their savior, Jesus.
I have no tales that I will tell of my past errors in judgment, though others should they choose to, can always point the finger. I am grateful that those days are behind me, and grateful for the enduring love of my Father. My stubborn strength, and my foolish acts brought me to my knees, and gave me the certain understanding that should no man have ever sinned, I alone had failed so greatly, that I would need His tender forgiveness and be oh so desperate, for His healing redemption.
I gave Him my nothing, so that He could give me his everything.
Sometimes I am surprised when suddenly I realize that one more time, He has turned my failure to something sweet, healing the heart of ones that I have wounded, or changing me at the very core to one who truly desires to love and build more than any other thing that I can think of, and again I am reminded that it is His kindness that brings us back to him.
I know it brought me.
"Mercy triumphs over judgment." James 2:13
Lord,
My merciful Father, heal the wounded hearts of those who have faltered in their relationship with You. Show them with clarity just exactly who you are. I deserved your wrath, and I found your forgiving arms to lay down my weary head. How we need you.
How I need you!
I am forever grateful,
Your Beloved
1 Corinthians 1:9
Though my dark and broken days are truly behind me, still the memory of them can almost instantly be before me and try to wrestle the joy of a bright morning into the deep abyss of a black night. Even an answered prayer, a relationship restored, or a wound healed can suddenly be the catalyst for a remembrance of from whence I came, and to say it plainly, WHENCE was not a lovely place, and I have no desire to return, to go a-visiting, or even to recall that locale in my thoughts.
The heartbreak of that time in my life was that it did not occur before I first gave my life to this loving and life altering Savior, but rather it planted itself right it the middle of my Christian life, glaring and grotesque like a fatal accident on a green and grassy highway.
The trouble with this tragedy of my own doing, is that I simply had to go there. I not only lacked in understanding how truly each and every human soul has the capacity for darkness, but I also had a strong dose of human capability that I unwittingly relied on at every turn.
No, neither life, nor death, nor fire, nor loss, nor lack of funds, nor illness could break me.
A household of children, bring it on, add a husband struggling with pain and addiction, let it be…and where empathy and graciousness towards my fellow man should have been the hallmark of my life,I became a clanging gong. Even to the ones I loved most, mercy and grace was not my portion.
Years have passed since the days of my descent in the darkness of mental brokenness, blatant sin, and hurts inflicted on those that I should have loved, and without question I deserved no kindness in return.
The Message translation of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians notes that he writes his letter not to a people who have never known Christ as their Master, but rather to a people who while in Paul’s presence came to know the saving grace of a loving God. In Paul’s absence, young and not mature in their faith, they returned to their old strongholds, and like me relied on tried and true behaviors. Paul does not reject them, nor does he condemn them, but rather he affirms again his love, and even greater the constant love of their savior, Jesus.
I have no tales that I will tell of my past errors in judgment, though others should they choose to, can always point the finger. I am grateful that those days are behind me, and grateful for the enduring love of my Father. My stubborn strength, and my foolish acts brought me to my knees, and gave me the certain understanding that should no man have ever sinned, I alone had failed so greatly, that I would need His tender forgiveness and be oh so desperate, for His healing redemption.
I gave Him my nothing, so that He could give me his everything.
Sometimes I am surprised when suddenly I realize that one more time, He has turned my failure to something sweet, healing the heart of ones that I have wounded, or changing me at the very core to one who truly desires to love and build more than any other thing that I can think of, and again I am reminded that it is His kindness that brings us back to him.
I know it brought me.
"Mercy triumphs over judgment." James 2:13
Lord,
My merciful Father, heal the wounded hearts of those who have faltered in their relationship with You. Show them with clarity just exactly who you are. I deserved your wrath, and I found your forgiving arms to lay down my weary head. How we need you.
How I need you!
I am forever grateful,
Your Beloved
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Day 59: His Perfect Day
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD…” Jeremiah 29:11
The day is done, and done beautifully. A gown fitting for my daughter, the beautiful bride-to-be, lunch out at a favorite restaurant and special time spent with my husband, and then an evening of homework. I climb into bed next to my husband, and as the content rumbles of his snoring fill the room, I know that I should be at peace as well, but instead I feel a rush of tension, an all too familiar anxiety. My mind begins to race through the checklist of what I did not accomplish today, this week, this month, and every thought of all that has been so beautifully complete slips from my mind, and I begin to realize that I am bound up by my expectations.
Days planned have turned into plans changed.
Goals set have become so many scattered scraps of paper littering my desk.
And my mind runs to the words of a friend, “Everyday, there is a plan, that is God’s perfect will for us.”
My plans are exhaled out clearing my mind, my heart, my minutes for the fresh new breath that is all that He has for me. Only as I release and trust do I see that right here in these messy-desk moments of my life is He answering my prayers.
I feel my shoulders drop, and I breathe in the goodness of His perfect day.
Lord,
I cannot see the end of your ways. I have no idea where my life is going, but I am here today my expectations in You alone, to live this day, my heart and my mind yielded to You in obedience to your perfect plan.
With joyful expectance,
Your Beloved
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD,
“plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11
The day is done, and done beautifully. A gown fitting for my daughter, the beautiful bride-to-be, lunch out at a favorite restaurant and special time spent with my husband, and then an evening of homework. I climb into bed next to my husband, and as the content rumbles of his snoring fill the room, I know that I should be at peace as well, but instead I feel a rush of tension, an all too familiar anxiety. My mind begins to race through the checklist of what I did not accomplish today, this week, this month, and every thought of all that has been so beautifully complete slips from my mind, and I begin to realize that I am bound up by my expectations.
Days planned have turned into plans changed.
Goals set have become so many scattered scraps of paper littering my desk.
And my mind runs to the words of a friend, “Everyday, there is a plan, that is God’s perfect will for us.”
My plans are exhaled out clearing my mind, my heart, my minutes for the fresh new breath that is all that He has for me. Only as I release and trust do I see that right here in these messy-desk moments of my life is He answering my prayers.
I feel my shoulders drop, and I breathe in the goodness of His perfect day.
Lord,
I cannot see the end of your ways. I have no idea where my life is going, but I am here today my expectations in You alone, to live this day, my heart and my mind yielded to You in obedience to your perfect plan.
With joyful expectance,
Your Beloved
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD,
“plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11
Monday, March 7, 2011
Day 58: A Prayer for My Daughter as She Spreads Her Wings
“How great is the love that the Father has lavished on us that we should be called children of God!
And that is what we are!” 1 John 3:1
O My Abba Father,
How grateful I am that I can come to You, my loving Father, like a little child, laying each and every concern that I have before you, knowing without question that You love me so dearly as the very best father loves his daughter.
Father, I thank you for my daughter, and the beautiful woman that she has become, I pray that You will continue making her the woman that you have called her to be. Like her father, she is hardworking, passionate and perseverant, a faithful friend, courageous to pursue excellence in that which she was designed to do. I pray that as she spreads her wings, still you will guide her paths. I ask that as she begins her new life far from me, that you will surround her with your presence, in the people she meets, in the situations she encounters, and in ways both simple and amazing, and I pray her heart will be opened to see your goodness.
Lavish your love upon her Lord, and draw her close, heal the wounds of her very soul, even as she seeks to be one that brings loving-kindness and healing to others. Bless the work of her hands Father, and let her find favor in the sight of those that employ her. Though she may be miles distant, let her always stand confident in the love of her family. When she is lonely bring her comfort, when she questions Father, soothe her concerns. Use me to bless her from afar, and even more, I ask that you, Lord, will be her very present help in times of need.
I entrust her into your faithful arms, knowing that though my love for her may come from the depths of my heart, yours goes so much deeper still. She is yours.
Trusting,
Your Beloved
And that is what we are!” 1 John 3:1
O My Abba Father,
How grateful I am that I can come to You, my loving Father, like a little child, laying each and every concern that I have before you, knowing without question that You love me so dearly as the very best father loves his daughter.
Father, I thank you for my daughter, and the beautiful woman that she has become, I pray that You will continue making her the woman that you have called her to be. Like her father, she is hardworking, passionate and perseverant, a faithful friend, courageous to pursue excellence in that which she was designed to do. I pray that as she spreads her wings, still you will guide her paths. I ask that as she begins her new life far from me, that you will surround her with your presence, in the people she meets, in the situations she encounters, and in ways both simple and amazing, and I pray her heart will be opened to see your goodness.
Lavish your love upon her Lord, and draw her close, heal the wounds of her very soul, even as she seeks to be one that brings loving-kindness and healing to others. Bless the work of her hands Father, and let her find favor in the sight of those that employ her. Though she may be miles distant, let her always stand confident in the love of her family. When she is lonely bring her comfort, when she questions Father, soothe her concerns. Use me to bless her from afar, and even more, I ask that you, Lord, will be her very present help in times of need.
I entrust her into your faithful arms, knowing that though my love for her may come from the depths of my heart, yours goes so much deeper still. She is yours.
Trusting,
Your Beloved
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Day 57: Open My Heart to Hear
“The Lord opened her heart to pay attention…” Acts 16:14
Fasting for spiritual reasons, or for any other reason for that matter, has rarely been a discipline that I have employed over the years in my journey as a Christian. As a younger woman, like donating blood, it was simply something my body would not tolerate due to my health and my body weight. Now as a woman who has recently found herself in a grandmotherly way, neither of these concerns currently applies, and I have found myself being called to times of prayer and fasting.
As a parent, the dreams and desires, the hopes and the hurts, the trying and the tears of each of my children all find a place in my heart. When they rejoice, I rejoice with them. When their heart aches, mine aches as well, and like my Father before me, I find myself wanting to do anything I can to reach into their situation and make life sweet and beautiful again.
Armed with the clarity of understanding that not only does my Father desire what is sweet and beautiful for my children, but that He and He alone knows the perfect pattern of loveliness for each of them, I have found myself choosing to take my concerns to Him, trusting Him for the outcome. When my children were young, it was often easy to simply “fix” their problems; fights could be broken up, issues at school could be remedied, and broken toys could be replaced, and sometimes I found myself carrying a torch that would have been better left unlit. As they grew into pre-teens, teens, and ultimately adults I came to the realization that I simply could not be the fixer of their problems, and often even of my own problems, but rather must become a source of encouragement, support and love as they learned to choose their own paths. With this knowledge came the freedom to truly love with the depths of my heart, while releasing my children to choose for themselves the future that each would pursue. Still the love of a parent does not dim, and my desires for them have found a home in the daily discipline of loving words, constant prayer, and a willingness to seek my Father on their behalf through setting aside a meal or two.
Like prayer, fasting is a discipline that opens our hearts to hear. When I bring myself before my Father with the confident understanding that He loves both me and those that I am praying for I can entrust my concerns to Him, and know that ultimately He will not only hear me, but most assuredly answer. As I seek him boldly and believingly to bring freedom into to the lives of those I bring before him, to change the hearts of those in authority over situations, I can trust that I am seeking only that which He as well truly desires. As I lay aside a moment and a meal, I can also be assured that in the process I change, and my prayers change, and as I lay each of my hopes and hurts before him, I find that my heart becomes utterly tied up in him, that I desire his plan and his plan alone, and that ultimately, the mystery of His ways will become that pattern of loveliness that I seek in my life, and for the lives of those that I so dearly love.
Lord,
Your ways are mysterious and yet so wonderful. Use me at your will, change me as you desire, and make me the woman you have called me to be. I entrust to you all of my deepest desires and those I so dearly love. Knowing that you and you alone have come to set the captives free and bring to pass the beauty of your plan even as I bow at your knee. Open my heart to hear.
Utterly tied up in You,
Your Beloved
Fasting for spiritual reasons, or for any other reason for that matter, has rarely been a discipline that I have employed over the years in my journey as a Christian. As a younger woman, like donating blood, it was simply something my body would not tolerate due to my health and my body weight. Now as a woman who has recently found herself in a grandmotherly way, neither of these concerns currently applies, and I have found myself being called to times of prayer and fasting.
As a parent, the dreams and desires, the hopes and the hurts, the trying and the tears of each of my children all find a place in my heart. When they rejoice, I rejoice with them. When their heart aches, mine aches as well, and like my Father before me, I find myself wanting to do anything I can to reach into their situation and make life sweet and beautiful again.
Armed with the clarity of understanding that not only does my Father desire what is sweet and beautiful for my children, but that He and He alone knows the perfect pattern of loveliness for each of them, I have found myself choosing to take my concerns to Him, trusting Him for the outcome. When my children were young, it was often easy to simply “fix” their problems; fights could be broken up, issues at school could be remedied, and broken toys could be replaced, and sometimes I found myself carrying a torch that would have been better left unlit. As they grew into pre-teens, teens, and ultimately adults I came to the realization that I simply could not be the fixer of their problems, and often even of my own problems, but rather must become a source of encouragement, support and love as they learned to choose their own paths. With this knowledge came the freedom to truly love with the depths of my heart, while releasing my children to choose for themselves the future that each would pursue. Still the love of a parent does not dim, and my desires for them have found a home in the daily discipline of loving words, constant prayer, and a willingness to seek my Father on their behalf through setting aside a meal or two.
Like prayer, fasting is a discipline that opens our hearts to hear. When I bring myself before my Father with the confident understanding that He loves both me and those that I am praying for I can entrust my concerns to Him, and know that ultimately He will not only hear me, but most assuredly answer. As I seek him boldly and believingly to bring freedom into to the lives of those I bring before him, to change the hearts of those in authority over situations, I can trust that I am seeking only that which He as well truly desires. As I lay aside a moment and a meal, I can also be assured that in the process I change, and my prayers change, and as I lay each of my hopes and hurts before him, I find that my heart becomes utterly tied up in him, that I desire his plan and his plan alone, and that ultimately, the mystery of His ways will become that pattern of loveliness that I seek in my life, and for the lives of those that I so dearly love.
Lord,
Your ways are mysterious and yet so wonderful. Use me at your will, change me as you desire, and make me the woman you have called me to be. I entrust to you all of my deepest desires and those I so dearly love. Knowing that you and you alone have come to set the captives free and bring to pass the beauty of your plan even as I bow at your knee. Open my heart to hear.
Utterly tied up in You,
Your Beloved
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Day 56: Trusting Tears
“You put my tears into Your bottle; are they not in Your book?” Psalm 56:8
In less than 48 hours I will be driving my twenty-five year old daughter to the airport where she will board an airplane and fly across the continent to a new city, a new job, and a new chapter in her adult life.
The last months have been a flurry of activity for her; she has sold her car, and then had to organize a bevy of borrowed vehicles to keep herself in transportation to and from work, she has moved out of her apartment and moved belongings too large to transport at this time into storage, and she has flown back and forth to New York City for interviews and meetings. In the midst of all this she has tried to use every free moment to say her goodbye’s.
I have known this move was coming, and she is not the first to leave the state of her childhood, but like her older sister before her, she has been given wings, and now it is simply time to stretch them. I am intensely proud of her in all the ways that a parent should be, as she is a young woman worthy of respect for her hard work and steadfast commitment to excellence. None the less tears have become my constant companion over the last months preceding her move, and now in these last hours that she has been spending in my home they threaten to spill again and again.
One month ago my oldest daughter gave me my first grandchild. As a new mother, she has been ushered into the beautiful and bittersweet world of parenthood. Love has stretched her heart in ways that she had no idea that it could, and yet with her greater capacity for love she has also found an enlarged capacity for pain and a new struggle with the knowledge that she can only do her best.
When these two beautiful women were yet toddlers I can remember lying in my bed next to their father with an ache filling my heart so deeply that it turned to streams of tears. There as a young mother I realized I could not hold them, that each day would come and it would go, and as it did they would grow, and that God had charged me and my husband with the responsibility of raising them for just exactly that purpose; to become strong capable adults who would leave us. I also realized that try as I might, I could never fully protect them; I could not breathe in and out for them, nor could I follow them through every detail of their daily lives, making sure no unkind word was said, or no harm occurred. I could not even ensure that in our flawed and fallible state my husband and I would always be the very best parents for them. I could only seek to do my best to love them with my whole heart, to protect them where it was wise to do so, to apologize when I erred, and ultimately, to trust the One who gave them to me to do what was very best for each of them.
The years have brought countless tears for this mother, some of joy, and some of the deepest heartbreak imaginable. There were times when the pain threatened to wash over me in waves too heavy to bear, and seasons when the tears of rejoicing washed away the broken pathway I had walked. Today, I sense my Father is using my tears to water gardens I have yet to see, growth green and new springing up in the lives of those He has enlarged my heart to love.
I trust Him, that He is not a God who ignores the eyes of his child as they brim with tears, but rather he sees every drop, and puts every stream, river and wave to His use to grow gardens fresh with new life, and to carve seashores satisfied with the beauty of His plan.
My Father,
I know You know the ache of my heart, and I know You have not let a single tear go unnoticed. I thank you for the joy of watching my children grow into beautiful adults, and like my tears , I entrust each one of them to You, knowing the plans that You have for them are good. And in this knowledge, I rest with tears of gratitude and a heart at peace.
Your Beloved
In less than 48 hours I will be driving my twenty-five year old daughter to the airport where she will board an airplane and fly across the continent to a new city, a new job, and a new chapter in her adult life.
The last months have been a flurry of activity for her; she has sold her car, and then had to organize a bevy of borrowed vehicles to keep herself in transportation to and from work, she has moved out of her apartment and moved belongings too large to transport at this time into storage, and she has flown back and forth to New York City for interviews and meetings. In the midst of all this she has tried to use every free moment to say her goodbye’s.
I have known this move was coming, and she is not the first to leave the state of her childhood, but like her older sister before her, she has been given wings, and now it is simply time to stretch them. I am intensely proud of her in all the ways that a parent should be, as she is a young woman worthy of respect for her hard work and steadfast commitment to excellence. None the less tears have become my constant companion over the last months preceding her move, and now in these last hours that she has been spending in my home they threaten to spill again and again.
One month ago my oldest daughter gave me my first grandchild. As a new mother, she has been ushered into the beautiful and bittersweet world of parenthood. Love has stretched her heart in ways that she had no idea that it could, and yet with her greater capacity for love she has also found an enlarged capacity for pain and a new struggle with the knowledge that she can only do her best.
When these two beautiful women were yet toddlers I can remember lying in my bed next to their father with an ache filling my heart so deeply that it turned to streams of tears. There as a young mother I realized I could not hold them, that each day would come and it would go, and as it did they would grow, and that God had charged me and my husband with the responsibility of raising them for just exactly that purpose; to become strong capable adults who would leave us. I also realized that try as I might, I could never fully protect them; I could not breathe in and out for them, nor could I follow them through every detail of their daily lives, making sure no unkind word was said, or no harm occurred. I could not even ensure that in our flawed and fallible state my husband and I would always be the very best parents for them. I could only seek to do my best to love them with my whole heart, to protect them where it was wise to do so, to apologize when I erred, and ultimately, to trust the One who gave them to me to do what was very best for each of them.
The years have brought countless tears for this mother, some of joy, and some of the deepest heartbreak imaginable. There were times when the pain threatened to wash over me in waves too heavy to bear, and seasons when the tears of rejoicing washed away the broken pathway I had walked. Today, I sense my Father is using my tears to water gardens I have yet to see, growth green and new springing up in the lives of those He has enlarged my heart to love.
I trust Him, that He is not a God who ignores the eyes of his child as they brim with tears, but rather he sees every drop, and puts every stream, river and wave to His use to grow gardens fresh with new life, and to carve seashores satisfied with the beauty of His plan.
My Father,
I know You know the ache of my heart, and I know You have not let a single tear go unnoticed. I thank you for the joy of watching my children grow into beautiful adults, and like my tears , I entrust each one of them to You, knowing the plans that You have for them are good. And in this knowledge, I rest with tears of gratitude and a heart at peace.
Your Beloved
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Not Derailed, Just Delayed
To my Wonderful Reader,
Though prayer has been a constant,illness and family events have temporarily waylaid my writing. Please pray for me when you think of me, this year has brought exciting changes for my children and family, and though exciting, they still carry with them the emotion that change often can. Thank you for your encouragement and inspiration. I am working faithfully to return to this discipline.
Stacey
Though prayer has been a constant,illness and family events have temporarily waylaid my writing. Please pray for me when you think of me, this year has brought exciting changes for my children and family, and though exciting, they still carry with them the emotion that change often can. Thank you for your encouragement and inspiration. I am working faithfully to return to this discipline.
Stacey
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Day 55: A Finger Pointed
“If any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of God…”
I have been reading Acts as of late and it is interesting to me that Paul when a religious zealot lived life peacefully pointing his finger at will, watching the destruction of the saints, and probably going home to his snuggly bed...but when he stood for the truth and spoke for Christ, the finger was pointed at him. Recently, a dear friend of mine has endured this very same accusatory extending of the hand. Where Christ calls us to open our hands in generosity, acceptance, grace, loving kindness and ultimately truth, our enemy extends a brittle, bony finger of bitterness with the sole purpose of destructive accusation.
“If any man minister, let him do it as of the ability which God gives…”
This woman has chosen to stand for truth both in word and in action. Daily she opens her heart to share the broken pieces of her past through one on one connection with other women, the written word, and sharing her story in her local church. She has chosen to bring her own dark into the light for the purpose of freedom, both for herself, and for others. To show the power of Jesus Christ working in one woman's life through living transparently gives others the freedom to live the same, and to be delivered from captivity. True ministry; hands opened freely to her Savior, holding no thing back, giving such as she has, so that He might turn and make her offering of utmost value.
“That God in all things may be glorified through Jesus Christ…”
God is a God of restoration, of mercy, seeking to restore, and we in His image, are meant to be redeemers not finger pointers. To His glory we are called to use our words to speak His heart. As those who are called by his name we are to bring the ministry of reconciliation through truth and healing, and to entrust our own broken pieces to a God who can turn each sliver and shard into an ability.
“To whom be praise and dominion for ever and ever.”
Our very purpose and design carries with it the inherent purpose of bringing the gift of glory and praise to our Father. It is interesting to note that only with hands open can one release a gift, but our fingers must curl closed to allow one to extend. What can we possibly give with our hands closed? Who can we possibly bless with a finger pointed?
I know my friend will open her hands filled with the pain of being accused, and like her Savior with nail-pierced hands, she will forgive. In her example, may our lips be used to speak His truth, our broken pieces be offered up to be transformed into merciful ministry, and our hands always be open with readiness to give all that we are, and all that we have to Him.
Amen.
Let me shine in undeniable ways for you, Lord. Let my words speak of your glory, my hands reach out to embrace, and my life be molded and made in the image of a Savior too merciful to imagine.
Your ways are wonderful, and I am in awe!
Your Beloved
Scripture Reference: 1Peter 4:11
I have been reading Acts as of late and it is interesting to me that Paul when a religious zealot lived life peacefully pointing his finger at will, watching the destruction of the saints, and probably going home to his snuggly bed...but when he stood for the truth and spoke for Christ, the finger was pointed at him. Recently, a dear friend of mine has endured this very same accusatory extending of the hand. Where Christ calls us to open our hands in generosity, acceptance, grace, loving kindness and ultimately truth, our enemy extends a brittle, bony finger of bitterness with the sole purpose of destructive accusation.
“If any man minister, let him do it as of the ability which God gives…”
This woman has chosen to stand for truth both in word and in action. Daily she opens her heart to share the broken pieces of her past through one on one connection with other women, the written word, and sharing her story in her local church. She has chosen to bring her own dark into the light for the purpose of freedom, both for herself, and for others. To show the power of Jesus Christ working in one woman's life through living transparently gives others the freedom to live the same, and to be delivered from captivity. True ministry; hands opened freely to her Savior, holding no thing back, giving such as she has, so that He might turn and make her offering of utmost value.
“That God in all things may be glorified through Jesus Christ…”
God is a God of restoration, of mercy, seeking to restore, and we in His image, are meant to be redeemers not finger pointers. To His glory we are called to use our words to speak His heart. As those who are called by his name we are to bring the ministry of reconciliation through truth and healing, and to entrust our own broken pieces to a God who can turn each sliver and shard into an ability.
“To whom be praise and dominion for ever and ever.”
Our very purpose and design carries with it the inherent purpose of bringing the gift of glory and praise to our Father. It is interesting to note that only with hands open can one release a gift, but our fingers must curl closed to allow one to extend. What can we possibly give with our hands closed? Who can we possibly bless with a finger pointed?
I know my friend will open her hands filled with the pain of being accused, and like her Savior with nail-pierced hands, she will forgive. In her example, may our lips be used to speak His truth, our broken pieces be offered up to be transformed into merciful ministry, and our hands always be open with readiness to give all that we are, and all that we have to Him.
Amen.
Let me shine in undeniable ways for you, Lord. Let my words speak of your glory, my hands reach out to embrace, and my life be molded and made in the image of a Savior too merciful to imagine.
Your ways are wonderful, and I am in awe!
Your Beloved
Scripture Reference: 1Peter 4:11
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Day 54: A Weary Woman's Simple Prayer
“Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray.” (James 5:13)
Father,
My body is weary with illness and I am unable to accomplish any of the things that I have planned for the day, and I must trust that even in this, your plans are being accomplished. I know that even as I lay down to rest, You are with me, and my weakness has not escaped your attention. Your goodness surrounds me in the hands of my loved ones who feed me, care for me, and comfort me with their presence. I am truly blessed. My mind has been running through the checklist of all I feel I should be accomplishing, and I know my only peace, my only rest is to lay each of these things in your faithful hands, and so I do my Lord, each and every detail, every concern great and small. With the whole of my needs resting securely in your hands, I ask You to give me rest, and renew my strength.
I am yours, all my moments and hours, in strength and in weakness, simply yours.
Your Beloved
"Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
They will run and not grow weary,
They will walk and not be faint."
Isaiah 40:31
Father,
My body is weary with illness and I am unable to accomplish any of the things that I have planned for the day, and I must trust that even in this, your plans are being accomplished. I know that even as I lay down to rest, You are with me, and my weakness has not escaped your attention. Your goodness surrounds me in the hands of my loved ones who feed me, care for me, and comfort me with their presence. I am truly blessed. My mind has been running through the checklist of all I feel I should be accomplishing, and I know my only peace, my only rest is to lay each of these things in your faithful hands, and so I do my Lord, each and every detail, every concern great and small. With the whole of my needs resting securely in your hands, I ask You to give me rest, and renew my strength.
I am yours, all my moments and hours, in strength and in weakness, simply yours.
Your Beloved
"Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
They will run and not grow weary,
They will walk and not be faint."
Isaiah 40:31
Friday, February 18, 2011
Day 53: Created to Create
“And I have filled him with the Spirit of God, in wisdom, in understanding, in knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship, to design artistic works…”
Exodus 31:3-4
When I was a young woman I was wooed to the love of Christ through the beauty of the sunrise, and the majesty of the Southern California mountain tops framed against the incredible clarity of a crisp blue sky. The creative works of an artistic designer called to my heart, and I wanted to know this Creator, and live within the purposefulness of his design.
As a young mother, feeling the presence of life growing within, I began to understand the intimacy with which this Designer was building the little child inside of me, and in awe realized that He had taken the very same care with me.
“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”
Psalm 139:14
Like the beautiful child growing within me, I was His artwork, the very masterpiece on which He would proudly sign His name. Understanding His value on me began a process of transformation inside of my heart, my soul, and in time, my mind. My acceptance of myself as His intimate creation, designed lovingly, imbued with purpose took decades to truly change my paradigm regarding my own value, but as I embraced my designer’s view of who I truly am, I found myself passionate to be the priceless artwork on which He had so lovingly labored.
The act of creation, by its nature requires the pouring out of the most intimate parts of the creator. The imprints of the very soul of the artist are left there on the canvas of their creation, and no truly inspired painter, sculptor, architect, or songwriter can walk away from their work not having laid a remnant of themselves within the very design of their work. And so it is that I have come to understand that the imprint, the very image of my Designer is written all over me, and as such I too have been made to create.
“And I have filled him with the Spirit of God… to design artistic works…”
The thought that my Creator has filled me with His Spirit simply for the purpose of being an artistic and creative being causes my heart to leap, and a smile to fill my lips. In Him, I am created to create, and so it is for each and every one of His beautiful creations. We are made in His image, filled with His Spirit to have the utter delight of being creators. His inspiration inspired and privileged to use our unique talents and skills to bring beauty, and order, and new life. Amazing!
He has given us the Holy Spirit as our guide and our instructor. When we submit our hearts, our minds, our hands, our eyes, our lips, and our very being to the instruction of the Holy Spirit he puts every moment of every hour of our lives to good use. By His grace we are each redeemers, creators skilled in the ministry of reconciliation. As we as believers avail ourselves daily to the grace and promptings of the Spirit, He covers our weaknesses and in the place of our flaws He infuses us with wisdom, understanding, knowledge, and creativity, all for the purpose of showing the love of an amazing Designer like the crisp clarity of a crystal blue sky.
“We are His creation-created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared ahead of time so that we should walk in them.”
Ephesians 2:10
My Father,
I am overjoyed at the works of your hands, and I cannot help but praise You! My heart truly delights at your creation, and in the knowledge that You have not only created me for a beautiful purpose, but have filled my very being with your Spirit, that I might walk in your perfect design.
You honor me, and my heart is in awe!
I love You,
Your Beloved
Exodus 31:3-4
When I was a young woman I was wooed to the love of Christ through the beauty of the sunrise, and the majesty of the Southern California mountain tops framed against the incredible clarity of a crisp blue sky. The creative works of an artistic designer called to my heart, and I wanted to know this Creator, and live within the purposefulness of his design.
As a young mother, feeling the presence of life growing within, I began to understand the intimacy with which this Designer was building the little child inside of me, and in awe realized that He had taken the very same care with me.
“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”
Psalm 139:14
Like the beautiful child growing within me, I was His artwork, the very masterpiece on which He would proudly sign His name. Understanding His value on me began a process of transformation inside of my heart, my soul, and in time, my mind. My acceptance of myself as His intimate creation, designed lovingly, imbued with purpose took decades to truly change my paradigm regarding my own value, but as I embraced my designer’s view of who I truly am, I found myself passionate to be the priceless artwork on which He had so lovingly labored.
The act of creation, by its nature requires the pouring out of the most intimate parts of the creator. The imprints of the very soul of the artist are left there on the canvas of their creation, and no truly inspired painter, sculptor, architect, or songwriter can walk away from their work not having laid a remnant of themselves within the very design of their work. And so it is that I have come to understand that the imprint, the very image of my Designer is written all over me, and as such I too have been made to create.
“And I have filled him with the Spirit of God… to design artistic works…”
The thought that my Creator has filled me with His Spirit simply for the purpose of being an artistic and creative being causes my heart to leap, and a smile to fill my lips. In Him, I am created to create, and so it is for each and every one of His beautiful creations. We are made in His image, filled with His Spirit to have the utter delight of being creators. His inspiration inspired and privileged to use our unique talents and skills to bring beauty, and order, and new life. Amazing!
He has given us the Holy Spirit as our guide and our instructor. When we submit our hearts, our minds, our hands, our eyes, our lips, and our very being to the instruction of the Holy Spirit he puts every moment of every hour of our lives to good use. By His grace we are each redeemers, creators skilled in the ministry of reconciliation. As we as believers avail ourselves daily to the grace and promptings of the Spirit, He covers our weaknesses and in the place of our flaws He infuses us with wisdom, understanding, knowledge, and creativity, all for the purpose of showing the love of an amazing Designer like the crisp clarity of a crystal blue sky.
“We are His creation-created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared ahead of time so that we should walk in them.”
Ephesians 2:10
My Father,
I am overjoyed at the works of your hands, and I cannot help but praise You! My heart truly delights at your creation, and in the knowledge that You have not only created me for a beautiful purpose, but have filled my very being with your Spirit, that I might walk in your perfect design.
You honor me, and my heart is in awe!
I love You,
Your Beloved
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Day 52: Wind-driven
“You know well enough how the wind blows this way and that. You hear it rustling through the trees, but you have no idea where it comes from or where it's headed next. That's the way it is with everyone 'born from above' by the wind of God, the Spirit of God."
John 3:8
Each year in July, I celebrate the turning of my age with some planning and goal setting. Unlike the population at large setting New Year’s Resolutions and the like, I have found it suited my sense of order to function on my own fiscal calendar…perhaps a nod to marching to the beat of my own drummer, or in my case the song that I am absentmindedly humming aloud, words changed and tucked into my humming whenever it “feels right.”
The spending of a year is an amazing and awesome prospect, and I do not take my planning lightly, nor do I undertake the project of setting goals without careful consideration and prayerfulness. I understand my days are numbered, and I know that without question, they are not my own. Finally, I realize that no matter how circumspect I might be in this planning process, the seasons turn with colors new, and the winds blow in directions not at my choosing.
And so it has been over these last months that the wind of God has been rustling in my life, and I have felt as the birds in the trees, sheltered from the storms, but perched in readiness to spread my wings at a moment’s notice, waiting only for direction from the Keeper of the Wind.
The turning of the calendar to this New Year has brought with it the joy of an engagement for our household, and the busyness of planning an imminent wedding, followed by an out-of-state move. In the midst of the joyous preparations another child has been finalizing her acceptance for a job offer that will take her from west coast to east. For yet another child college applications are being filled out, transcripts are being processed, and thoughts of college life stretch our already packed brains. In the midst of the delight of love committed, the separation anxiety of jobs and colleges far from home, and the hard work that all of these changes have brought, I have sought to continue to move steadily, though slowly and prayerfully, toward the goals set in the month of summer sun.
And then the winds changed, and my oldest daughter with marathon strength, delivered my first grandchild into the world, and came home from the hospital with a beautiful blue-eyed baby boy and a walker and brace in tow, to aide in the healing of a bone cracked in the delivery process.
And suddenly all of my priorities changed, and wings spread I laid aside everything that might distract me, and boarded a plane to go where the wind was leading. Now rather than a calendar filled with my own plans and goals, my days and my nights were filled with diaper changes, baby laundry, early morning feedings, rocking chairs, watching the new mommy as she delighted in her beautiful son, and the pure joy and satisfaction of knowing that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Wind-driven.
For as long as I walk on this earth, I want to be about the business of the Wind-Keeper. Sometimes I may find that the plans He has for me are already written neatly into my calendar, goals and hopes carefully prayed for and chosen, still, I will be careful to keep my ear trained for the rustling of the leaves, and my wings ready, for often, the winds blow this way and that in a more wonderful pattern than any plan I could have imagined.
“In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps.”
Proverbs 16:9
Lord,
Daily, moment by moment, give me the joy of being led by the wind of your Spirit. How delightful are your plans, O Lord, may my heart always be ready to take wing and fly in whatever direction You may lead.
With a joyful and grateful heart,
Your Beloved
John 3:8
Each year in July, I celebrate the turning of my age with some planning and goal setting. Unlike the population at large setting New Year’s Resolutions and the like, I have found it suited my sense of order to function on my own fiscal calendar…perhaps a nod to marching to the beat of my own drummer, or in my case the song that I am absentmindedly humming aloud, words changed and tucked into my humming whenever it “feels right.”
The spending of a year is an amazing and awesome prospect, and I do not take my planning lightly, nor do I undertake the project of setting goals without careful consideration and prayerfulness. I understand my days are numbered, and I know that without question, they are not my own. Finally, I realize that no matter how circumspect I might be in this planning process, the seasons turn with colors new, and the winds blow in directions not at my choosing.
And so it has been over these last months that the wind of God has been rustling in my life, and I have felt as the birds in the trees, sheltered from the storms, but perched in readiness to spread my wings at a moment’s notice, waiting only for direction from the Keeper of the Wind.
The turning of the calendar to this New Year has brought with it the joy of an engagement for our household, and the busyness of planning an imminent wedding, followed by an out-of-state move. In the midst of the joyous preparations another child has been finalizing her acceptance for a job offer that will take her from west coast to east. For yet another child college applications are being filled out, transcripts are being processed, and thoughts of college life stretch our already packed brains. In the midst of the delight of love committed, the separation anxiety of jobs and colleges far from home, and the hard work that all of these changes have brought, I have sought to continue to move steadily, though slowly and prayerfully, toward the goals set in the month of summer sun.
And then the winds changed, and my oldest daughter with marathon strength, delivered my first grandchild into the world, and came home from the hospital with a beautiful blue-eyed baby boy and a walker and brace in tow, to aide in the healing of a bone cracked in the delivery process.
And suddenly all of my priorities changed, and wings spread I laid aside everything that might distract me, and boarded a plane to go where the wind was leading. Now rather than a calendar filled with my own plans and goals, my days and my nights were filled with diaper changes, baby laundry, early morning feedings, rocking chairs, watching the new mommy as she delighted in her beautiful son, and the pure joy and satisfaction of knowing that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Wind-driven.
For as long as I walk on this earth, I want to be about the business of the Wind-Keeper. Sometimes I may find that the plans He has for me are already written neatly into my calendar, goals and hopes carefully prayed for and chosen, still, I will be careful to keep my ear trained for the rustling of the leaves, and my wings ready, for often, the winds blow this way and that in a more wonderful pattern than any plan I could have imagined.
“In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps.”
Proverbs 16:9
Lord,
Daily, moment by moment, give me the joy of being led by the wind of your Spirit. How delightful are your plans, O Lord, may my heart always be ready to take wing and fly in whatever direction You may lead.
With a joyful and grateful heart,
Your Beloved
Friday, February 4, 2011
Day 51: A Prayer for My Grandson
“They will be called oaks of righteousness,
Trees planted by the Lord to reveal his splendor. “
Isaiah 61:4
My dear Father,
My heart rejoices at the birth of my grandson, and I thank you with my whole heart for your presence at his birth, that You heard our prayers and brought him to this earth in an environment of peace and joy. I am overwhelmed at your goodness. Truly, he is fearfully and wonderfully made, and the wonder of your works are present in the tiny details of his little hand and beautiful eyes. Thank you for the beautiful unity of his parents in the event of his birth, I ask that as they begin the journey of raising this little boy into an amazing man that you will always guide them by your Spirit, that each year that passes will find them loving You and each other with more intensity, joy and passion than the year before, and that the same unity that reigned at this little ones birth, will reign in their hearts and in their home. Father, I seek you on behalf of my beautiful grandson, and I ask that You will make him a delight to his parents and those You choose to bring into his life. I pray that he will grow in wisdom and in stature both before You and men. I ask that he will always have a heart after You, and that truly, he will grow into an Oak of Righteousness. Gracious Father, guard this little one, for all of his days guard him, and let him grow with the knowledge of a mother and father who delight in him, and an entire family that greatly rejoices at the gift of his life. I am confident, that by your grace, he will become a fine man.
Your Grateful Beloved…now a Grandma
“The father of the righteous will greatly rejoice,
And he who begets a wise child will delight in him.
Let your Father and your Mother be glad,
And let her who bore you rejoice.”
Proverbs 23:24-25
Trees planted by the Lord to reveal his splendor. “
Isaiah 61:4
My dear Father,
My heart rejoices at the birth of my grandson, and I thank you with my whole heart for your presence at his birth, that You heard our prayers and brought him to this earth in an environment of peace and joy. I am overwhelmed at your goodness. Truly, he is fearfully and wonderfully made, and the wonder of your works are present in the tiny details of his little hand and beautiful eyes. Thank you for the beautiful unity of his parents in the event of his birth, I ask that as they begin the journey of raising this little boy into an amazing man that you will always guide them by your Spirit, that each year that passes will find them loving You and each other with more intensity, joy and passion than the year before, and that the same unity that reigned at this little ones birth, will reign in their hearts and in their home. Father, I seek you on behalf of my beautiful grandson, and I ask that You will make him a delight to his parents and those You choose to bring into his life. I pray that he will grow in wisdom and in stature both before You and men. I ask that he will always have a heart after You, and that truly, he will grow into an Oak of Righteousness. Gracious Father, guard this little one, for all of his days guard him, and let him grow with the knowledge of a mother and father who delight in him, and an entire family that greatly rejoices at the gift of his life. I am confident, that by your grace, he will become a fine man.
Your Grateful Beloved…now a Grandma
“The father of the righteous will greatly rejoice,
And he who begets a wise child will delight in him.
Let your Father and your Mother be glad,
And let her who bore you rejoice.”
Proverbs 23:24-25
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Day 50: Furry Angels
“Your prayers and neighborly acts have brought you to God’s attention.”
Acts 10:4
Can you imagine an angel standing before you? Even more, can you imagine an angel standing before you and telling you that not only have your prayers gotten God’s attention, but so have your actions toward all those you encounter.
Yesterday my son called. He was on his way home when he saw a small dog running through traffic and as he passed, he remembered a conversation he had been a part of earlier in the day in one of his classes. The teacher had noted that often tragedies take place right under the nose of people who would not stop to help. Realizing he had one small opportunity in which he could make a difference, he pulled his car to the side of the road, and began to direct traffic.
Several months ago my twelve year old daughter and I had a similar experience. My daughter Grace is a great lover of animals, babies, and the elderly, and for her the sight of a furry four-legged animal running loose on the street brings out her maternal instincts, and instantly thoughts of adoption ring in her head. On this eventful day as we rounded the corner from our home, a large white fuzzy scruff of a dog appeared and began making a bee-line for the larger, and much busier main street.
“Mom, we have to get him, he is going to get run over, “she announced, and suddenly I found my car pulling itself to the roadside. The wayward pup seemed to sense our mission and next thing I knew my back seat was filled with scruff and girl. Now I am savvy enough to know that most probably angels don’t come in furry packages, although I have heard tell of a donkey who spoke his mind, but it was the adventure we soon found ourselves on that made me wonder if that pup wasn’t heaven sent “for just such a time as this?”
“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.”
Hebrews 13:2
Finding that the dog had a tag, we tried to contact the owner, but to no avail, so off we went to the local dog rescue several miles away, as we turned on to the street where the rescue was located we saw a young woman running with all her strength behind a school bus, frantic, yelling loudly, and obviously distraught. Again I found my car pulling itself to the side of the road, lowering the car window I asked if she needed help. She went on to explain that her five year old son was on the bus, and she had just missed it. She had no way to get to the school, and so another passenger was added to the car.
The school was a small distance away, but too far for her to reach quickly, and much too far for her little one to walk home. As we drove to the school, we shared about our dog rescue adventure, and she thanked God that we had shown up at just that time, and then we added another passenger to the car, her five year old son.
Soon mom and son were safely left at home, pup was dropped at the rescue, where his master later found him, and we headed home, feeling as excited and as joyous as if we had entertained angels.
Perhaps we had.
With every encounter, whether outside in our community, or inside the walls of our own home, we have the opportunity to treat others with the generosity and kindness of heart that we would most certainly treat those of heavenly residence. A smile and a helping hand can be revolutionary, it might even change your world.
I think it will change mine.
“…For this very reason, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue, to virtue knowledge, to knowledge self-control, to self-control perseverance, to perseverance godliness, to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness love. For if these things are yours and abound in you, you will neither be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
2 Peter 1: 5-8
Lord,
Change me and make me the woman You have called me to be. Make me a woman who is not only faithful in prayer, but who has a heart to love others in active and tangible ways. Add to my love brotherly kindness, and help me to always remember that some “angels” I might entertain, live right inside of my house!
Your Beloved
Acts 10:4
Can you imagine an angel standing before you? Even more, can you imagine an angel standing before you and telling you that not only have your prayers gotten God’s attention, but so have your actions toward all those you encounter.
Yesterday my son called. He was on his way home when he saw a small dog running through traffic and as he passed, he remembered a conversation he had been a part of earlier in the day in one of his classes. The teacher had noted that often tragedies take place right under the nose of people who would not stop to help. Realizing he had one small opportunity in which he could make a difference, he pulled his car to the side of the road, and began to direct traffic.
Several months ago my twelve year old daughter and I had a similar experience. My daughter Grace is a great lover of animals, babies, and the elderly, and for her the sight of a furry four-legged animal running loose on the street brings out her maternal instincts, and instantly thoughts of adoption ring in her head. On this eventful day as we rounded the corner from our home, a large white fuzzy scruff of a dog appeared and began making a bee-line for the larger, and much busier main street.
“Mom, we have to get him, he is going to get run over, “she announced, and suddenly I found my car pulling itself to the roadside. The wayward pup seemed to sense our mission and next thing I knew my back seat was filled with scruff and girl. Now I am savvy enough to know that most probably angels don’t come in furry packages, although I have heard tell of a donkey who spoke his mind, but it was the adventure we soon found ourselves on that made me wonder if that pup wasn’t heaven sent “for just such a time as this?”
“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.”
Hebrews 13:2
Finding that the dog had a tag, we tried to contact the owner, but to no avail, so off we went to the local dog rescue several miles away, as we turned on to the street where the rescue was located we saw a young woman running with all her strength behind a school bus, frantic, yelling loudly, and obviously distraught. Again I found my car pulling itself to the side of the road, lowering the car window I asked if she needed help. She went on to explain that her five year old son was on the bus, and she had just missed it. She had no way to get to the school, and so another passenger was added to the car.
The school was a small distance away, but too far for her to reach quickly, and much too far for her little one to walk home. As we drove to the school, we shared about our dog rescue adventure, and she thanked God that we had shown up at just that time, and then we added another passenger to the car, her five year old son.
Soon mom and son were safely left at home, pup was dropped at the rescue, where his master later found him, and we headed home, feeling as excited and as joyous as if we had entertained angels.
Perhaps we had.
With every encounter, whether outside in our community, or inside the walls of our own home, we have the opportunity to treat others with the generosity and kindness of heart that we would most certainly treat those of heavenly residence. A smile and a helping hand can be revolutionary, it might even change your world.
I think it will change mine.
“…For this very reason, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue, to virtue knowledge, to knowledge self-control, to self-control perseverance, to perseverance godliness, to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness love. For if these things are yours and abound in you, you will neither be barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
2 Peter 1: 5-8
Lord,
Change me and make me the woman You have called me to be. Make me a woman who is not only faithful in prayer, but who has a heart to love others in active and tangible ways. Add to my love brotherly kindness, and help me to always remember that some “angels” I might entertain, live right inside of my house!
Your Beloved
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Day 49: Cow-whisperer
“The earth is the LORD’s and the fullness thereof…” Psalm 24:1
Several weeks ago, I had the opportunity to travel out of state and spend a few days exploring the hill country and surrounding areas of Texas with my 12 year old daughter. A cold snap hit just as we arrived in the Lone Star state, and for the first few days as we donned our gloves and scarfs against the mid thirty degree temperatures, I wondered how this state usually known for its warmth, had turned its back on me in the weather department. The first day after we arrived was spent recovering from the change in time, and the weariness that can descend upon you after touring an airport or two, but by day two the hotel room had decreased in square footage, and the 34 degree weather was calling our name.
My sister-in-law had kindly agreed to chauffeur us on our adventure, and we began a trip intended to educate my daughter on some of the history of Texas. We left behind the freeways of the city and soon our journey opened into the highways of a hill country filled with rural roads, brushy trees, and a landscape dotted with every ranch and farm animal imaginable, with a few unexpected guests popping out to surprise and delight us.
As true tourists, we pointed out the cattle, the sheep and the goats, and of course, horses, horses, horses; miniature horses, and beautiful thoroughbreds of various breeds. We stopped to visit the presidential childhood home of Lyndon B. Johnson, as well as a local visitor’s center dedicated to the preservation of the history of the area. Lunching in a small town bakery we enjoyed the warmth of each other’s company, and the sweetness of an after lunch treat. Escaping into a small shop here and there to avoid the cold, we visited with the shop owners and picked up a small keepsake or two.
Tired from the day, the three of us climbed back into the car, ready to navigate again those same country roads that had greeted us with natural beauty and a furry beast or two, earlier in the day. The trip had been good, and I as reviewed it in my mind, I hoped that both my daughter and my sister in law had enjoyed the journey, despite the cold, and wondered if perhaps any travel memories had been made in my daughter’s mind beyond, “My mom took me to Texas, and it was freezing!”
Driving back toward the small presidential hometown my sister in law remarked that we were about to pass the ranchlands of the past-president’s great-grandfather, and what a shame it was that it was too cold to walk the grounds, none the less she suddenly decided to pull off the road just for a look. The old log fencing came almost to the road side, and as the car came to stop my daughter threw the door open and ran to the fence. There in the distance were two longhorn cattle; not your everyday cow mind you, but two beautiful big longhorns, one adorned with horns that stretched in length, what my daughter did in height.
She stood and watched, oblivious to the cold, clicking her tongue as she had done so many times before when riding horses. The cattle moved slowly toward the fence seemingly as interested in her as she was in them. She turned to the car, and began the process of coaxing me from the warmth of my seat, and within moments there we were gazing at these creatures, amazed at the beauty of their coats, and the majesty of their muscle. She clicked again, and then it happened; the larger of the two bounded toward her stopping just short of the fence and as if in greeting tucked her horns through the opening. Giggles and screams erupted from deep inside of me, and echoed from the lungs of my sister-in-law, as we both spontaneously jumped back at least ten feet, but that woman of all of twelve stood her ground and greeted those horns with another little click and a smile. The younger cow joined the party, and my daughter remarked, “See, I knew they would come to see me.”
The cows tucked their nostrils through the fence and posed as my daughter, the cow-whisperer took their pictures and smiled. Our memory had been made; a gift from God in His fullness, proof-positive that some of the best gifts come in great big fur covered packages, and cost not a thing.
"...I own the cattle on a thousand hills." Psalm 50:10
Lord,
The earth is truly yours, and absolutely everything in it. Your creativity is astounding, a delight to my soul. I give You so many thanks from this grateful heart for the surprises you send my way, for each gift great and small. I especially thank you for the memories written on the heart on my daughter of the day she had the privilege of being a cow-whisperer. I am delighted at the works of your hands!
Your Beloved
Several weeks ago, I had the opportunity to travel out of state and spend a few days exploring the hill country and surrounding areas of Texas with my 12 year old daughter. A cold snap hit just as we arrived in the Lone Star state, and for the first few days as we donned our gloves and scarfs against the mid thirty degree temperatures, I wondered how this state usually known for its warmth, had turned its back on me in the weather department. The first day after we arrived was spent recovering from the change in time, and the weariness that can descend upon you after touring an airport or two, but by day two the hotel room had decreased in square footage, and the 34 degree weather was calling our name.
My sister-in-law had kindly agreed to chauffeur us on our adventure, and we began a trip intended to educate my daughter on some of the history of Texas. We left behind the freeways of the city and soon our journey opened into the highways of a hill country filled with rural roads, brushy trees, and a landscape dotted with every ranch and farm animal imaginable, with a few unexpected guests popping out to surprise and delight us.
As true tourists, we pointed out the cattle, the sheep and the goats, and of course, horses, horses, horses; miniature horses, and beautiful thoroughbreds of various breeds. We stopped to visit the presidential childhood home of Lyndon B. Johnson, as well as a local visitor’s center dedicated to the preservation of the history of the area. Lunching in a small town bakery we enjoyed the warmth of each other’s company, and the sweetness of an after lunch treat. Escaping into a small shop here and there to avoid the cold, we visited with the shop owners and picked up a small keepsake or two.
Tired from the day, the three of us climbed back into the car, ready to navigate again those same country roads that had greeted us with natural beauty and a furry beast or two, earlier in the day. The trip had been good, and I as reviewed it in my mind, I hoped that both my daughter and my sister in law had enjoyed the journey, despite the cold, and wondered if perhaps any travel memories had been made in my daughter’s mind beyond, “My mom took me to Texas, and it was freezing!”
Driving back toward the small presidential hometown my sister in law remarked that we were about to pass the ranchlands of the past-president’s great-grandfather, and what a shame it was that it was too cold to walk the grounds, none the less she suddenly decided to pull off the road just for a look. The old log fencing came almost to the road side, and as the car came to stop my daughter threw the door open and ran to the fence. There in the distance were two longhorn cattle; not your everyday cow mind you, but two beautiful big longhorns, one adorned with horns that stretched in length, what my daughter did in height.
She stood and watched, oblivious to the cold, clicking her tongue as she had done so many times before when riding horses. The cattle moved slowly toward the fence seemingly as interested in her as she was in them. She turned to the car, and began the process of coaxing me from the warmth of my seat, and within moments there we were gazing at these creatures, amazed at the beauty of their coats, and the majesty of their muscle. She clicked again, and then it happened; the larger of the two bounded toward her stopping just short of the fence and as if in greeting tucked her horns through the opening. Giggles and screams erupted from deep inside of me, and echoed from the lungs of my sister-in-law, as we both spontaneously jumped back at least ten feet, but that woman of all of twelve stood her ground and greeted those horns with another little click and a smile. The younger cow joined the party, and my daughter remarked, “See, I knew they would come to see me.”
The cows tucked their nostrils through the fence and posed as my daughter, the cow-whisperer took their pictures and smiled. Our memory had been made; a gift from God in His fullness, proof-positive that some of the best gifts come in great big fur covered packages, and cost not a thing.
"...I own the cattle on a thousand hills." Psalm 50:10
Lord,
The earth is truly yours, and absolutely everything in it. Your creativity is astounding, a delight to my soul. I give You so many thanks from this grateful heart for the surprises you send my way, for each gift great and small. I especially thank you for the memories written on the heart on my daughter of the day she had the privilege of being a cow-whisperer. I am delighted at the works of your hands!
Your Beloved
Monday, January 31, 2011
Day 48: Flowers of Beauty
“A lotus blossoming in a swamp of weeds—
that's my dear friend among the girls in the village.”
Song of Songs 2:2
Paging through my prayer journal I find the names of family and friends and as I read each entry, it never ceases to amaze me the emotion that can suddenly well up inside my heart. These are my dear ones, and somehow in life we have been entrusted to each other. We have been given the honorable and great privilege of loving one another, of hoping all things, and believing that all things are possible for each other.
Sometimes I pray for those listed in my prayer journal because I love them. I love them so much my heart aches and I want the very hand of my wonderful Father to reach down and comfort their hearts, heal their wounds, and show them the beauty of who they are in the reflection of His adoring eyes.
At other times I find that my heart is lead to pray for someone, perhaps that I barely know, and as I commit to faithfulness in seeking God on their behalf, I find that my heart is filled with love for them. This in itself in the first benefit of prayerfulness, that not only in the place of prayer do we have the opportunity to see the hand of a mighty God, but we ourselves begin to see others as He sees them, as He sees us, as “A lotus blossoming among the weeds.”
This side of heaven I will probably never know the tears that were shed and the prayers that were uttered on my behalf. I am simply grateful that someone, perhaps many someone’s have been praying for me. What I do know is the joy of having dear friends and loved ones that are themselves truly beautiful blossoms growing strong pushing out the weeds in my life. They are woman who have come alongside me through the dark days of night, friends who have seen in me what I was too afraid to hope for, and through prayer, and encouragement they have watched me stretch toward the sun and bloom.
In the garden of the Master Gardener, we are each a unique and perfectly designed blossom; the wispy white of a dandelion ready to spread it seeds far and wide, the sweet essence of a cottage rose vine climbing to the light, the strength of the lotus as it speaks it beauty from muddied roots. Each of us worthy of His care and tending as he plucks the weeds from our lives nourishes the roots of our very soul, so that each will blossom beautifully, under the gardener’s hand.
Lord,
How I hope that these humble prayers I offer you are seeds planted to be nourished and fed at Your hand. I am so grateful for the women that you have put in my life, each one of them truly “a lotus blossoming.” Bless them Lord, for they have fed and watered me with the love of your word, and each has been so faithful. They have helped me to stay planted in good soil, and themselves bloom beautifully among the weeds. Thank you that You have loved me with their words, their accepting arms that embraced me, and truly, I am sure, their faithful prayers.
I love you,
Your Beloved
that's my dear friend among the girls in the village.”
Song of Songs 2:2
Paging through my prayer journal I find the names of family and friends and as I read each entry, it never ceases to amaze me the emotion that can suddenly well up inside my heart. These are my dear ones, and somehow in life we have been entrusted to each other. We have been given the honorable and great privilege of loving one another, of hoping all things, and believing that all things are possible for each other.
Sometimes I pray for those listed in my prayer journal because I love them. I love them so much my heart aches and I want the very hand of my wonderful Father to reach down and comfort their hearts, heal their wounds, and show them the beauty of who they are in the reflection of His adoring eyes.
At other times I find that my heart is lead to pray for someone, perhaps that I barely know, and as I commit to faithfulness in seeking God on their behalf, I find that my heart is filled with love for them. This in itself in the first benefit of prayerfulness, that not only in the place of prayer do we have the opportunity to see the hand of a mighty God, but we ourselves begin to see others as He sees them, as He sees us, as “A lotus blossoming among the weeds.”
This side of heaven I will probably never know the tears that were shed and the prayers that were uttered on my behalf. I am simply grateful that someone, perhaps many someone’s have been praying for me. What I do know is the joy of having dear friends and loved ones that are themselves truly beautiful blossoms growing strong pushing out the weeds in my life. They are woman who have come alongside me through the dark days of night, friends who have seen in me what I was too afraid to hope for, and through prayer, and encouragement they have watched me stretch toward the sun and bloom.
In the garden of the Master Gardener, we are each a unique and perfectly designed blossom; the wispy white of a dandelion ready to spread it seeds far and wide, the sweet essence of a cottage rose vine climbing to the light, the strength of the lotus as it speaks it beauty from muddied roots. Each of us worthy of His care and tending as he plucks the weeds from our lives nourishes the roots of our very soul, so that each will blossom beautifully, under the gardener’s hand.
Lord,
How I hope that these humble prayers I offer you are seeds planted to be nourished and fed at Your hand. I am so grateful for the women that you have put in my life, each one of them truly “a lotus blossoming.” Bless them Lord, for they have fed and watered me with the love of your word, and each has been so faithful. They have helped me to stay planted in good soil, and themselves bloom beautifully among the weeds. Thank you that You have loved me with their words, their accepting arms that embraced me, and truly, I am sure, their faithful prayers.
I love you,
Your Beloved
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Day 47: Prayer from a Hungry Heart
“Kneel and pray, you are in a holy place, on holy ground.” Acts 7:33
My Beloved Father,
My heart longs for You, and I have begun to realize that your holy place is all around me, that holy ground is at my feet yearning for me to bend my knee in recognition and believe. To believe with clarity of vision that You are never even a breath away, unless with strength of my own, I hold you at arm’s length.
I am hungry for your ways, to believe You for all that is amazing and good and pure, to recognize the wonder of your works, and to acknowledge the daily presence of holy ground. To know without a question of a doubt that my past has no bearing on my future, except in the beautiful ways that you will weave the dark threads of my fears and failures, against the dawning brightness of your forgiveness and favor.
I Need You…Lord all these years and I need your presence more today than yesterday, more than ever before; I NEED YOU. You are my mirror, causing me to understand who I am designed to be. You are the revelatory love that I long to live out day by day before my children, my husband, the world.
Fill my heart afresh, Abba, fill it to overflowing, each day new, again, and again. Make me my Inerrant Designer, the woman you have called me to be.
Your Beloved
“So take me as You find me
All my fears and failures, fill my life again.”
Hillsong United
"Earth is crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries."
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
My Beloved Father,
My heart longs for You, and I have begun to realize that your holy place is all around me, that holy ground is at my feet yearning for me to bend my knee in recognition and believe. To believe with clarity of vision that You are never even a breath away, unless with strength of my own, I hold you at arm’s length.
I am hungry for your ways, to believe You for all that is amazing and good and pure, to recognize the wonder of your works, and to acknowledge the daily presence of holy ground. To know without a question of a doubt that my past has no bearing on my future, except in the beautiful ways that you will weave the dark threads of my fears and failures, against the dawning brightness of your forgiveness and favor.
I Need You…Lord all these years and I need your presence more today than yesterday, more than ever before; I NEED YOU. You are my mirror, causing me to understand who I am designed to be. You are the revelatory love that I long to live out day by day before my children, my husband, the world.
Fill my heart afresh, Abba, fill it to overflowing, each day new, again, and again. Make me my Inerrant Designer, the woman you have called me to be.
Your Beloved
“So take me as You find me
All my fears and failures, fill my life again.”
Hillsong United
"Earth is crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries."
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Day 46: Today
“Every good and perfect gift is from above…” James 1:17
Today
I saw the works of your hand in the clarity of a blue sky
The purity of white dusted mountain caps.
I heard your voice
On the lips of my daughter
As she pulled me close and whispered in my ear, “I love you.”
I felt the depth of your forgiveness in the warmth of her embrace.
Today
I saw the works of your hand in hillsides green with fresh life;
The promise of bare vines waiting for new birth.
I saw your face
In the smile of my daughter
As her eyes sparkled with the understanding that I love her
I felt the breadth of your provision in the dreams of her future.
Today
I saw the works of your hand in a face flush with hope
The expectancy of miracles made memories
I felt your heart
In the eyes of my daughter
As her joy glistened blue brimming with tears
I felt the height of my gratitude in the goodness of your ways.
Today
“Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” Psalms 139:14
Father,
Your works are wonderful, and your ways more mysterious and generous than I can understand. I thank You for the hope of the future, and the promise that life will again come in the first green of the vine.
In You alone, Lord, is my hope. I trust afresh.
Your Beloved
Today
I saw the works of your hand in the clarity of a blue sky
The purity of white dusted mountain caps.
I heard your voice
On the lips of my daughter
As she pulled me close and whispered in my ear, “I love you.”
I felt the depth of your forgiveness in the warmth of her embrace.
Today
I saw the works of your hand in hillsides green with fresh life;
The promise of bare vines waiting for new birth.
I saw your face
In the smile of my daughter
As her eyes sparkled with the understanding that I love her
I felt the breadth of your provision in the dreams of her future.
Today
I saw the works of your hand in a face flush with hope
The expectancy of miracles made memories
I felt your heart
In the eyes of my daughter
As her joy glistened blue brimming with tears
I felt the height of my gratitude in the goodness of your ways.
Today
“Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” Psalms 139:14
Father,
Your works are wonderful, and your ways more mysterious and generous than I can understand. I thank You for the hope of the future, and the promise that life will again come in the first green of the vine.
In You alone, Lord, is my hope. I trust afresh.
Your Beloved
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Day 45: Boldly, Believingly
“Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought.” James 1:6
As I approached my time of devotion this evening, before the cover of my Bible was folded back, or a scripture was read, I was drawn to my knees. As I tucked myself small, like a child before my Father, the requests began to pour from my heart.
I found myself praying for a beautiful young teen in my church that has been struck by a debilitating illness, leaving her wheel chair bound, daily suffering, and in need of a bone marrow treatment that requires her weakened lungs to be healthy. I prayed for her mother, who has already seen the pain of losing a child.
I prayed for my daughter, her tiny body large with her son, due date only days away.
I prayed for a family I have never met, who has walked the path of raising a special needs child, and almost lost her just before the Holidays.
I prayed for the safety of my son and my husband, each en route home, one via freeway, the other via airway.
The words flowed from my lips, and from my very soul, unexpected prayers, not written in a prayer journal, nor given much forethought. Prayers for healing; His glory revealed, His mercies made manifest.
There I sat, tucked on my knees as a child in the secure presence of my Father, heart bold with the knowledge of His favor, and I prayed, as if the very words were His, planted in my heart at the beckoning of His spirit.
“Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” Hebrews 4:16
My Father,
I humbly bow myself before You, grateful that you call me your beloved daughter. Fill my lips with the prayers of your heart, and my heart with the knowledge that as I tuck myself in close to You, I can trust with confidence that You not only hear, but that You care.
Your Trusting Beloved
As I approached my time of devotion this evening, before the cover of my Bible was folded back, or a scripture was read, I was drawn to my knees. As I tucked myself small, like a child before my Father, the requests began to pour from my heart.
I found myself praying for a beautiful young teen in my church that has been struck by a debilitating illness, leaving her wheel chair bound, daily suffering, and in need of a bone marrow treatment that requires her weakened lungs to be healthy. I prayed for her mother, who has already seen the pain of losing a child.
I prayed for my daughter, her tiny body large with her son, due date only days away.
I prayed for a family I have never met, who has walked the path of raising a special needs child, and almost lost her just before the Holidays.
I prayed for the safety of my son and my husband, each en route home, one via freeway, the other via airway.
The words flowed from my lips, and from my very soul, unexpected prayers, not written in a prayer journal, nor given much forethought. Prayers for healing; His glory revealed, His mercies made manifest.
There I sat, tucked on my knees as a child in the secure presence of my Father, heart bold with the knowledge of His favor, and I prayed, as if the very words were His, planted in my heart at the beckoning of His spirit.
“Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” Hebrews 4:16
My Father,
I humbly bow myself before You, grateful that you call me your beloved daughter. Fill my lips with the prayers of your heart, and my heart with the knowledge that as I tuck myself in close to You, I can trust with confidence that You not only hear, but that You care.
Your Trusting Beloved
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Day 44: Stop and Listen
“How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts! My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord…” Psalm 84:1
My husband is away in another state, attending to the needs of his family. My children are out for the evening, busy with various activities. The evening is mine. Dinner eaten and dogs fed, my heart is hungry to hear from God. As a dear and wise woman I know has called it, I am longing for some “Sacred Solitude.” A time alone to speak with and listen to the One I love, to sit in His presence, and surrender my heart to His beautiful plan.
My house is quiet, and I settle into my unmade bed (remember I said my husband is in another state!) with my bible, a pen, a journal, and my devotional. Finding the first passage I read;
“I praise You for I am fearfully and wonderfully made…” Psalm 139:14
The devotional says, “Acknowledge your Creator,” and I do, but all at once my frustration pours from my lips and I tell Him, “Lord, I am feeling an absence of your presence. I am feeling concerned about my struggle with….” and my ramblings continue covering a range of topics, many devoted to my inadequacies and discouragement. I know that He hears, but suddenly I realize it is time to quiet myself, and listen…
In the quietness, He begins to remind me of why I am here, and I write in my journal, “Every interaction a representation of Your love.” Then my thoughts are transported to the remembrance of every celebration of the past two years that has taken place in my home, and with my family. I see weddings, and birthdays, holidays and family gatherings just because we could. Board games, and meals cooked, gifts given and hearts opened. Two years of gatherings, two years of a family being birthed; a season of celebration, building, and of rejoicing, and I understand that all along He has been working out His plan, and using my days to answer not only the prayers of my mouth, but the cry of my heart.
Peace floods through my heart and my mind, and the realization of His presence ongoing in my life literally delights me.
I have always been a better speaker than a listener, and I continue to seek the assistance of the Holy Spirit to change me, so that I can listen fully to others. It is a work in progress, and I am grateful that when it comes to my conversations with my Father, He is patient and waits until I get a clue, and come to an understanding that it is time to open my heart, and stop and listen.
Prayer is not asking. Prayer is putting oneself in the hands of God, at His disposition, and listening to His voice in the depth of our hearts."
~ Mother Teresa
Father,
Truly, how wonderful is Your presence, and how gracious you are to let me dwell with You daily. Help me to come before you with a heart ready to listen. I offer you all that I am, trusting that You, my amazing Creator, will use me for just exactly the beautiful plans you designed me for.
Your Beloved
My husband is away in another state, attending to the needs of his family. My children are out for the evening, busy with various activities. The evening is mine. Dinner eaten and dogs fed, my heart is hungry to hear from God. As a dear and wise woman I know has called it, I am longing for some “Sacred Solitude.” A time alone to speak with and listen to the One I love, to sit in His presence, and surrender my heart to His beautiful plan.
My house is quiet, and I settle into my unmade bed (remember I said my husband is in another state!) with my bible, a pen, a journal, and my devotional. Finding the first passage I read;
“I praise You for I am fearfully and wonderfully made…” Psalm 139:14
The devotional says, “Acknowledge your Creator,” and I do, but all at once my frustration pours from my lips and I tell Him, “Lord, I am feeling an absence of your presence. I am feeling concerned about my struggle with….” and my ramblings continue covering a range of topics, many devoted to my inadequacies and discouragement. I know that He hears, but suddenly I realize it is time to quiet myself, and listen…
In the quietness, He begins to remind me of why I am here, and I write in my journal, “Every interaction a representation of Your love.” Then my thoughts are transported to the remembrance of every celebration of the past two years that has taken place in my home, and with my family. I see weddings, and birthdays, holidays and family gatherings just because we could. Board games, and meals cooked, gifts given and hearts opened. Two years of gatherings, two years of a family being birthed; a season of celebration, building, and of rejoicing, and I understand that all along He has been working out His plan, and using my days to answer not only the prayers of my mouth, but the cry of my heart.
Peace floods through my heart and my mind, and the realization of His presence ongoing in my life literally delights me.
I have always been a better speaker than a listener, and I continue to seek the assistance of the Holy Spirit to change me, so that I can listen fully to others. It is a work in progress, and I am grateful that when it comes to my conversations with my Father, He is patient and waits until I get a clue, and come to an understanding that it is time to open my heart, and stop and listen.
Prayer is not asking. Prayer is putting oneself in the hands of God, at His disposition, and listening to His voice in the depth of our hearts."
~ Mother Teresa
Father,
Truly, how wonderful is Your presence, and how gracious you are to let me dwell with You daily. Help me to come before you with a heart ready to listen. I offer you all that I am, trusting that You, my amazing Creator, will use me for just exactly the beautiful plans you designed me for.
Your Beloved
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Day 43: Prayer for a Busy Day
“For to me, to live is Christ…” Philippians 1:21
Lord,
You know my day is busy, as so many of them can be; filled to the brim with important tasks necessary to meet the needs of a large family. It would be so easy today to lose sight of You, to focus on the checklist I need to complete, or the child that is moving too slowly, or any other obstacle that may not surrender to the importance of MY busy day. Let me not lose sight of You as I walk out my days, but rather teach me to keep my conversation with You continuous, my heart towards others generous, and my task list firmly surrendered to your perfect plan for this day. This day and every day, Guide my every thought and action by your Holy Spirit. Let me shine for You when I don’t realize that I am, and fill my heart, mind, and soul with a greater of understanding that to Live is Christ, and that each of my days belong to You.
Your Beloved
Lord,
You know my day is busy, as so many of them can be; filled to the brim with important tasks necessary to meet the needs of a large family. It would be so easy today to lose sight of You, to focus on the checklist I need to complete, or the child that is moving too slowly, or any other obstacle that may not surrender to the importance of MY busy day. Let me not lose sight of You as I walk out my days, but rather teach me to keep my conversation with You continuous, my heart towards others generous, and my task list firmly surrendered to your perfect plan for this day. This day and every day, Guide my every thought and action by your Holy Spirit. Let me shine for You when I don’t realize that I am, and fill my heart, mind, and soul with a greater of understanding that to Live is Christ, and that each of my days belong to You.
Your Beloved
Day 42: Pillow Talk
“And lead me in the way everlasting …” Psalm 139:24
Do you ever have those mornings when even before you stretch that first toe from under the covers you are tempted to pull the pillow over your head, and hide from the impending doom that awaits you? This was one such morning. It is the first day since I returned from my recent out of state travels that I have not had a full agenda, and knowing that I have a very busy weekend ahead of me, I gave serious consideration to pulling my toe back to safety, grabbing my pillow and hanging on for dear life. As much as I love my pillow, and as truly comforting as it is, I knew giving it a good snuggle would not dispel my imagined doom, but rather cause it to loom with greater foreboding. There is only once place I could go to brighten my little black rain cloud.
“O God, you are my God; early will I seek you: my soul thirsts for you…” Psalm 63:1
I asked God for the amazing this morning, and it made me smile.
I know that He wants the very best for me, and I have also learned that I am not always the very best judge of just exactly what that might look like, but the more that I seek Him, the more clearly I understand myself, and His very good plans for me. I have also learned that scripture is very clear on the subject of asking; He wants us to ask, we often don’t have because we don’t ask, and He wants us to ask with pure motives and according to His will.
Now this last part can get a little tricky, as I know that my own heart can be a raging battleground when it comes to purity in my own motives, and being as I often don’t understand my Father’s ways, I also seem to struggle with the according to His will part. Nonetheless, I have absolutely no desire to miss out on a blessing He intends for me, or for someone He has encouraged me to pray for, so leaving my humanness to Him, I simply ask, and I ask for the amazing, trusting that He will purify my motives, and guide my prayers.
“Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we think or ask...”
Ephesian 3:20
I want to be a bringer of life. I want to be a source of encouragement those I dearly love, and those God brings into my life. As a friend of mine recently stated, “What's the point? To love and to love hard.” I believe this to be a great truth, and I have watched her walk it out in her daily life. I also know that there are circumstances in her life that may cause her to want to pull the pillow over her head, and draw her toe to safety. Yet day to day, she chooses to be a living example of a woman whose soul thirsts for God, and she takes her concerns and the concerns of those she loves to first to her Father, and from Him her love flows freely. As she commits her way to Him, not only has God answered some of her prayers in astounding ways, He has caused her to be a woman who is greatly respected, a bringer of life.
“…He who waits for his master will be honored.” Proverbs 27:18
Many mornings for each of us, I am sure that the covers are a far more comfortable option than the cold air and early morning hours we may have to conquer to spend time in conversation with God. Still I must confess, I want to see the amazing, even if this morning the amazing may only be that I pulled the covers off those toes and came to sit with my master.
Lord,
Thank you that I can ask You for anything, just the knowledge of such a privilege makes a smile spread across my face. In the asking I know that sometimes You will choose something other than what I ask, still I know your plans are good. I entrust myself to You, and pray that You will call me daily to your throne, and give me the heart to pull the pillow from my head, and run to You that you might truly lead me in the way everlasting.
Your Beloved
Do you ever have those mornings when even before you stretch that first toe from under the covers you are tempted to pull the pillow over your head, and hide from the impending doom that awaits you? This was one such morning. It is the first day since I returned from my recent out of state travels that I have not had a full agenda, and knowing that I have a very busy weekend ahead of me, I gave serious consideration to pulling my toe back to safety, grabbing my pillow and hanging on for dear life. As much as I love my pillow, and as truly comforting as it is, I knew giving it a good snuggle would not dispel my imagined doom, but rather cause it to loom with greater foreboding. There is only once place I could go to brighten my little black rain cloud.
“O God, you are my God; early will I seek you: my soul thirsts for you…” Psalm 63:1
I asked God for the amazing this morning, and it made me smile.
I know that He wants the very best for me, and I have also learned that I am not always the very best judge of just exactly what that might look like, but the more that I seek Him, the more clearly I understand myself, and His very good plans for me. I have also learned that scripture is very clear on the subject of asking; He wants us to ask, we often don’t have because we don’t ask, and He wants us to ask with pure motives and according to His will.
Now this last part can get a little tricky, as I know that my own heart can be a raging battleground when it comes to purity in my own motives, and being as I often don’t understand my Father’s ways, I also seem to struggle with the according to His will part. Nonetheless, I have absolutely no desire to miss out on a blessing He intends for me, or for someone He has encouraged me to pray for, so leaving my humanness to Him, I simply ask, and I ask for the amazing, trusting that He will purify my motives, and guide my prayers.
“Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we think or ask...”
Ephesian 3:20
I want to be a bringer of life. I want to be a source of encouragement those I dearly love, and those God brings into my life. As a friend of mine recently stated, “What's the point? To love and to love hard.” I believe this to be a great truth, and I have watched her walk it out in her daily life. I also know that there are circumstances in her life that may cause her to want to pull the pillow over her head, and draw her toe to safety. Yet day to day, she chooses to be a living example of a woman whose soul thirsts for God, and she takes her concerns and the concerns of those she loves to first to her Father, and from Him her love flows freely. As she commits her way to Him, not only has God answered some of her prayers in astounding ways, He has caused her to be a woman who is greatly respected, a bringer of life.
“…He who waits for his master will be honored.” Proverbs 27:18
Many mornings for each of us, I am sure that the covers are a far more comfortable option than the cold air and early morning hours we may have to conquer to spend time in conversation with God. Still I must confess, I want to see the amazing, even if this morning the amazing may only be that I pulled the covers off those toes and came to sit with my master.
Lord,
Thank you that I can ask You for anything, just the knowledge of such a privilege makes a smile spread across my face. In the asking I know that sometimes You will choose something other than what I ask, still I know your plans are good. I entrust myself to You, and pray that You will call me daily to your throne, and give me the heart to pull the pillow from my head, and run to You that you might truly lead me in the way everlasting.
Your Beloved
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Day 41: Blank Page
“If you don’t know what you are doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help.” James 1:5
I am here to write, because I have made a commitment to write. I am seated in front of my computer finger tips poised to discipline myself to follow through, because I want to be a finisher, and because in the wise words of the author of Proverbs, “All diligent effort leads to profit.”
My mind is as blank for writing ideas as the Word Document in front of me, and as I sit I am trying not to let my mind wander to plans for my daughter’s upcoming wedding, and with even more diligence I am trying not to let my fingers do the walking right over to my favorite social networking site. Just a slip of the hand and I can escape this blank page and enjoy the goings on of friends and family.
My devotional time was rich this morning filled with Proverbs and other verses of encouragement, and my time of prayer was intimate and sweet, sharing with my Lord my hopes and dreams, and talking to Him about each of my children one by one, and thanking him for my husband and every good thing He so continually bestows upon me. I prayed for a dear loved who is longing to buy a home for the first time, asked Him again for discipline and self-control in key areas of my life, that he would make me a kind-hearted woman, and a true and devoted friend. I noted the scrawls in the margin of my journal indicating prayers that had been answered, and gave my day to Him. None the less, as I sit to write, my mind is vacant.
I am seated in the place of obedience, knowing that today, although my mind seems blank, and filling the page with any words of value seems too awesome to be achievable, I need only pray to my Father, and He will help me. He may cause my words to flow with the ink of the Holy Spirit; He may take my feeble words and infuse them with life for someone, somewhere, or He may simply fill my heart and mind with the understanding that my commitment and obedience were the goal of this exercise.
Whatever the outcome, whatever the need, He fills the blank pages of my life with words that not only inspire but comfort, and I rest in the understanding that I serve a Lord who not only hears me, but Loves to Help!
Lord,
How often I find that I simply don’t know what I doing. I wander my hallways aimlessly, unsure of why I even walked into the room at all. I need your help. How grateful I am that you bend your ear to my requests, and lovingly bend your knee to come alongside me and help me with every confusion and concern. How I love knowing that I serve a Lord who simply is waiting for the opportunity to come and help.
Your Beloved
I am here to write, because I have made a commitment to write. I am seated in front of my computer finger tips poised to discipline myself to follow through, because I want to be a finisher, and because in the wise words of the author of Proverbs, “All diligent effort leads to profit.”
My mind is as blank for writing ideas as the Word Document in front of me, and as I sit I am trying not to let my mind wander to plans for my daughter’s upcoming wedding, and with even more diligence I am trying not to let my fingers do the walking right over to my favorite social networking site. Just a slip of the hand and I can escape this blank page and enjoy the goings on of friends and family.
My devotional time was rich this morning filled with Proverbs and other verses of encouragement, and my time of prayer was intimate and sweet, sharing with my Lord my hopes and dreams, and talking to Him about each of my children one by one, and thanking him for my husband and every good thing He so continually bestows upon me. I prayed for a dear loved who is longing to buy a home for the first time, asked Him again for discipline and self-control in key areas of my life, that he would make me a kind-hearted woman, and a true and devoted friend. I noted the scrawls in the margin of my journal indicating prayers that had been answered, and gave my day to Him. None the less, as I sit to write, my mind is vacant.
I am seated in the place of obedience, knowing that today, although my mind seems blank, and filling the page with any words of value seems too awesome to be achievable, I need only pray to my Father, and He will help me. He may cause my words to flow with the ink of the Holy Spirit; He may take my feeble words and infuse them with life for someone, somewhere, or He may simply fill my heart and mind with the understanding that my commitment and obedience were the goal of this exercise.
Whatever the outcome, whatever the need, He fills the blank pages of my life with words that not only inspire but comfort, and I rest in the understanding that I serve a Lord who not only hears me, but Loves to Help!
Lord,
How often I find that I simply don’t know what I doing. I wander my hallways aimlessly, unsure of why I even walked into the room at all. I need your help. How grateful I am that you bend your ear to my requests, and lovingly bend your knee to come alongside me and help me with every confusion and concern. How I love knowing that I serve a Lord who simply is waiting for the opportunity to come and help.
Your Beloved
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Day 40: The Life Abundant
“I have come in order that you might have life – life in all its fullness”
John 10:10
The life abundant; a desire that resonates deep within the heart and soul of every individual, and for each it is a clarion call to fulfill the unique and specific design that is the cry of their very existence. Some refer to this yearning, as the God-shaped hole waiting to be filled by God and God alone. It has been named purpose, calling, life’s-work, legacy, mission, or our true north, and even those who spend a lifetime seeking to serve God, can find it elusive.
Just as each and every snowflake is shaped as no other, but rather crafted as a one-of-a-kind by an Artist that delights in the nuance, so the definition of “life in all its fullness” takes a different meaning for every uniquely created human that walks the earth.
To me, it is as if God has put a road map inside of me, a treasure map that when I follow it carefully leads me on an adventure of such astounding proportions that every step brings a new sense of awe, excitement, and an abundance of joy. I find fullness in the places that I go, the people I that interact with, and the activities that I am engaged in.
Sometimes, the map seems to be written in a foreign language, and my attempts at reading it are laced with trepidation, or even worse, I realize I am reading the map accurately, and find myself suddenly frozen in my tracks, afraid of the rocky terrain up ahead. I may choose to dig in my heals and not move forward, or turn around and attempt to go back to what used to feel safe, only to find it stagnant and no longer welcoming, or I can go bounding forward trusting the map, and the maker of the map.
As a young Christian, I often found myself following in the pathways of others, and for a season this was good, as I learned to navigate this new journey laid out before me. A veteran traveler can always lend a helping hand, but in time I would find myself following them, and failing to open my own map. Sometimes, I would fail to move forward in any direction, fearful that I had not read the directions carefully, and that I might be vainly trying to create my own treasure hunt.
Ultimately, the map-maker has a vested interest in my quest for the life abundant, and asks only that I seek his wealth of knowledge when the map seems confusing, or the terrain difficult. His greatest desire is that I will move forward in my quest passionately with all my energies, and all of my intelligence, knowing that with every step He will be there to guide me to the treasure that will unfold within my very soul.
“So love God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence and energy.” Mark 12:30
Lord of my Journey,
You are my greatest treasure, and my most worthy pursuit. In you I find my life abundant, my unique design, and the purpose which makes my heart rejoice. May I always trust your ways, and the accuracy of the map you have created for me.
Your Beloved
John 10:10
The life abundant; a desire that resonates deep within the heart and soul of every individual, and for each it is a clarion call to fulfill the unique and specific design that is the cry of their very existence. Some refer to this yearning, as the God-shaped hole waiting to be filled by God and God alone. It has been named purpose, calling, life’s-work, legacy, mission, or our true north, and even those who spend a lifetime seeking to serve God, can find it elusive.
Just as each and every snowflake is shaped as no other, but rather crafted as a one-of-a-kind by an Artist that delights in the nuance, so the definition of “life in all its fullness” takes a different meaning for every uniquely created human that walks the earth.
To me, it is as if God has put a road map inside of me, a treasure map that when I follow it carefully leads me on an adventure of such astounding proportions that every step brings a new sense of awe, excitement, and an abundance of joy. I find fullness in the places that I go, the people I that interact with, and the activities that I am engaged in.
Sometimes, the map seems to be written in a foreign language, and my attempts at reading it are laced with trepidation, or even worse, I realize I am reading the map accurately, and find myself suddenly frozen in my tracks, afraid of the rocky terrain up ahead. I may choose to dig in my heals and not move forward, or turn around and attempt to go back to what used to feel safe, only to find it stagnant and no longer welcoming, or I can go bounding forward trusting the map, and the maker of the map.
As a young Christian, I often found myself following in the pathways of others, and for a season this was good, as I learned to navigate this new journey laid out before me. A veteran traveler can always lend a helping hand, but in time I would find myself following them, and failing to open my own map. Sometimes, I would fail to move forward in any direction, fearful that I had not read the directions carefully, and that I might be vainly trying to create my own treasure hunt.
Ultimately, the map-maker has a vested interest in my quest for the life abundant, and asks only that I seek his wealth of knowledge when the map seems confusing, or the terrain difficult. His greatest desire is that I will move forward in my quest passionately with all my energies, and all of my intelligence, knowing that with every step He will be there to guide me to the treasure that will unfold within my very soul.
“So love God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence and energy.” Mark 12:30
Lord of my Journey,
You are my greatest treasure, and my most worthy pursuit. In you I find my life abundant, my unique design, and the purpose which makes my heart rejoice. May I always trust your ways, and the accuracy of the map you have created for me.
Your Beloved
Friday, January 14, 2011
Day 39: Winds of Change
“Are you tired? Worn out?”
A dear friend of mine has been struggling with the winds of change, a physiological force that is familiar to us both as we have moved through deep losses and unbridled joys. As she shared her confusion at the loss and sadness she is currently experiencing as she prepares for her daughters impending wedding, I thought of the changes that I too am facing in the year to come:
The birth of my first grandchild, two of my adult children moving out of state to further their professional aspirations, my youngest son graduating from high school, and moving out of state to attend college, and my youngest child passing the threshold from pre-teen to teen.
Perhaps, I am coming of age, if you know what I mean, and the sheer velocity at which the changes seem to be coming are earth shaking. I have found myself unexpectedly moved to tears, each and every time I am reminded of the changes that are to come, even if they can truly be considered beautiful and good gifts.
“Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life.”
As I considered what my dear friend is experiencing, and what it seems we each face as we daily release ourselves into the hands of our loving Father, I could not help but wonder if the feelings were not only a sense of loss, but even more accurately the pains of change. Like growing pains, they stretch our muscles, and lengthen our gait, but at the same time exhaust and weary us, until we can get out the ruler, stand up against the wall, and prove that we have increased in stature.
“Walk with me and work with me---watch how I do it"
As women, our very design suggests that we will be forever releasing. Our bodies give up our children from the safety of our womb, and from that moment we will always be opening our hands in a form of surrender. A birth, a death, launching a child into their future, these are the true seasons of change, and of life, and like a torrential rain storm they can force us to take cover against the whipping winds that will eventually create change; Undeniably painful for us as women, who in some way are always releasing, always letting go.
“Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.”
I have spent the better part of the last two decades facing this one simple constant in my life; change will come; it will come early and often, with or without my permission, and always, always, God is in it. He has whispered in my ear, “Trust me,” and I have confirmed that I do. Sometimes that trust is mixed with trepidation, weariness, sadness, and even joy, but when I hear His voice reminding me to trust, I know something is going to change, and often I realize, it is me.
“I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.”
Despite the letting go, I love being a woman, and even more, I love being a woman who loves God. I know these things are true of my wonderful friend, and while her heart rejoices in her the preparations for her daughters wedding, her soul knows, change is coming. Loving Him makes every release purposeful, every sadness worth bearing, every delight richer, and ultimately, as women of God we know that we can trust that each time we open our hands in surrender He will teach us to live freely and lightly, and will ultimately, make every moment of every hour of each of our lives for His good use.
“Keep company with me, and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
Matthew 11:28-30
Lord,
Be the God of encouragement to each of us as we seek to serve you faithfully in these lives filled with constant change. You and you alone, make the winds work worthwhile, and You and you alone comfort our souls when the winds weary. Help us to live freely and lightly in your unforced rhythms and grace.
Forever,
Your Beloved
A dear friend of mine has been struggling with the winds of change, a physiological force that is familiar to us both as we have moved through deep losses and unbridled joys. As she shared her confusion at the loss and sadness she is currently experiencing as she prepares for her daughters impending wedding, I thought of the changes that I too am facing in the year to come:
The birth of my first grandchild, two of my adult children moving out of state to further their professional aspirations, my youngest son graduating from high school, and moving out of state to attend college, and my youngest child passing the threshold from pre-teen to teen.
Perhaps, I am coming of age, if you know what I mean, and the sheer velocity at which the changes seem to be coming are earth shaking. I have found myself unexpectedly moved to tears, each and every time I am reminded of the changes that are to come, even if they can truly be considered beautiful and good gifts.
“Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life.”
As I considered what my dear friend is experiencing, and what it seems we each face as we daily release ourselves into the hands of our loving Father, I could not help but wonder if the feelings were not only a sense of loss, but even more accurately the pains of change. Like growing pains, they stretch our muscles, and lengthen our gait, but at the same time exhaust and weary us, until we can get out the ruler, stand up against the wall, and prove that we have increased in stature.
“Walk with me and work with me---watch how I do it"
As women, our very design suggests that we will be forever releasing. Our bodies give up our children from the safety of our womb, and from that moment we will always be opening our hands in a form of surrender. A birth, a death, launching a child into their future, these are the true seasons of change, and of life, and like a torrential rain storm they can force us to take cover against the whipping winds that will eventually create change; Undeniably painful for us as women, who in some way are always releasing, always letting go.
“Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.”
I have spent the better part of the last two decades facing this one simple constant in my life; change will come; it will come early and often, with or without my permission, and always, always, God is in it. He has whispered in my ear, “Trust me,” and I have confirmed that I do. Sometimes that trust is mixed with trepidation, weariness, sadness, and even joy, but when I hear His voice reminding me to trust, I know something is going to change, and often I realize, it is me.
“I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.”
Despite the letting go, I love being a woman, and even more, I love being a woman who loves God. I know these things are true of my wonderful friend, and while her heart rejoices in her the preparations for her daughters wedding, her soul knows, change is coming. Loving Him makes every release purposeful, every sadness worth bearing, every delight richer, and ultimately, as women of God we know that we can trust that each time we open our hands in surrender He will teach us to live freely and lightly, and will ultimately, make every moment of every hour of each of our lives for His good use.
“Keep company with me, and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
Matthew 11:28-30
Lord,
Be the God of encouragement to each of us as we seek to serve you faithfully in these lives filled with constant change. You and you alone, make the winds work worthwhile, and You and you alone comfort our souls when the winds weary. Help us to live freely and lightly in your unforced rhythms and grace.
Forever,
Your Beloved
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Day 38: Disappearing List
“Love keeps no record of wrongs.” 1 Corinthians 13:5
I am a list maker.
I have a list of to do’s, a list of errands, a list to keep track of possible gift ideas for those I love, an entire notebook devoted to dreams, and goals, a list of books to read, a list of places I might like to visit, and then of course, there is the grocery list, the daily lesson plan for my daughter’s home school lessons, and to tie it all together, the daily, weekly, and monthly planner. When I travel there is a packing list, a list of to do’s for the dog sitter/house sitter, and then the list of places to go and things to see once I arrive at my destination. Now that I am back in college there is the list of classes I must complete, a list of reading assignments to be tackled, and the most foreboding list of all: the list of papers to be written.
Simply creating a list of all my lists can seem confusing, and there is perhaps the concern that I will be found one day buried under a mountain of hand-scrawled to do lists having met an inky demise, but in practice they are the key to organization in my little world, and often are the lines that string together my otherwise disconnected dots.
I take comfort in the knowledge that I also serve a God that takes the time to make a list or two, keeping track of every tear I cry, listing my name in His book of life, keeping a record of the genealogy of Jesus, so that I can see that He uses ordinary people to bring forth the extraordinary. Lists of the building materials and specifications needed for ark building tell me He is a God of detail, and order, while the lists of the design and job assignments for the temple built by the Israelites show that He is a God who loves beauty and workmanship.
Of all these lists, some penned on scraps of paper by human hands, and some breathed into life and written for eternity by the Holy Spirit, it is the two lists that are not kept that overshadow all the others:
As if with disappearing ink, the list of my sins no longer can be seen, in its place a sacrifice that exemplifies the very definition of perfect love; it keeps no record of wrongs. It is much more difficult to eliminate the second list, as it must be created by the paper and pen that I never choose to pick up, the offenses I choose to cover with love, the wrongs I do not record.
In my humanness I find there is a great propensity to not only keep a list of the wrongs perpetuated against me, but on occasion, I find myself trying to erect a full size billboard in a place of prominence, and my flesh wars with those six giant sized words: LOVE KEEPS NO RECORD OF WRONGS, and then I am reminded of the most beautiful list of all, and I hear, “As you have been forgiven, my darling one…
Forgive.”
Lord,
Teach me to love with Your heart: Moment by moment, in the sweet, and in the hurtful moments, day by day, and for all of my days.
Your Beloved
I am a list maker.
I have a list of to do’s, a list of errands, a list to keep track of possible gift ideas for those I love, an entire notebook devoted to dreams, and goals, a list of books to read, a list of places I might like to visit, and then of course, there is the grocery list, the daily lesson plan for my daughter’s home school lessons, and to tie it all together, the daily, weekly, and monthly planner. When I travel there is a packing list, a list of to do’s for the dog sitter/house sitter, and then the list of places to go and things to see once I arrive at my destination. Now that I am back in college there is the list of classes I must complete, a list of reading assignments to be tackled, and the most foreboding list of all: the list of papers to be written.
Simply creating a list of all my lists can seem confusing, and there is perhaps the concern that I will be found one day buried under a mountain of hand-scrawled to do lists having met an inky demise, but in practice they are the key to organization in my little world, and often are the lines that string together my otherwise disconnected dots.
I take comfort in the knowledge that I also serve a God that takes the time to make a list or two, keeping track of every tear I cry, listing my name in His book of life, keeping a record of the genealogy of Jesus, so that I can see that He uses ordinary people to bring forth the extraordinary. Lists of the building materials and specifications needed for ark building tell me He is a God of detail, and order, while the lists of the design and job assignments for the temple built by the Israelites show that He is a God who loves beauty and workmanship.
Of all these lists, some penned on scraps of paper by human hands, and some breathed into life and written for eternity by the Holy Spirit, it is the two lists that are not kept that overshadow all the others:
As if with disappearing ink, the list of my sins no longer can be seen, in its place a sacrifice that exemplifies the very definition of perfect love; it keeps no record of wrongs. It is much more difficult to eliminate the second list, as it must be created by the paper and pen that I never choose to pick up, the offenses I choose to cover with love, the wrongs I do not record.
In my humanness I find there is a great propensity to not only keep a list of the wrongs perpetuated against me, but on occasion, I find myself trying to erect a full size billboard in a place of prominence, and my flesh wars with those six giant sized words: LOVE KEEPS NO RECORD OF WRONGS, and then I am reminded of the most beautiful list of all, and I hear, “As you have been forgiven, my darling one…
Forgive.”
Lord,
Teach me to love with Your heart: Moment by moment, in the sweet, and in the hurtful moments, day by day, and for all of my days.
Your Beloved
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Day 37: Sink-Hole
“A friend loves at all times.” Proverbs 17:17
Tonight I hit a bump in the road.
Not the fun kind of whoopti-do that makes your stomach drop with excitement, but something more accurately depicted as a sink-hole. A familiar place in the road that once was smooth, but that the rains of the season have weakened and the constant travel back and forth over the same stretch of road have buffeted, and now the paved road has given way to cracks, puddles, and a spine –jarring experience for those who travel there.
I could see the bump coming, and tried to swerve appropriately, and perhaps coulda, woulda, and shoulda chose another road, but there I traveled nonetheless, hoping perhaps previous road repairs had smoothed and corrected the damage, but there I landed jarred and shaken by that same old sink-hole. I sat frozen and confused, mumbling at God, while the shock set it, and realized that I needed the services of a good emotional tow: Automobile club for the heart, soul, and mind. I could spin my wheels in the grit, gravel, and mud of my sink-hole or I could call out for a friend with a strong hand and a mighty heart.
And so I did.
I could not call just anybody. I could not call somebody who would be shocked by how I had again ended up in a sink-hole, grumbling about my inability to navigate properly, or my foolishness at not knowing that there was a sink-hole on that particular road. I needed someone with the right equipment. Someone who would say, “Wow that is an ugly sink-hole, I have spun my wheels in one or two just like that myself. As a matter of fact, I think you might have helped tow me out a time or two. Don’t worry, I know you, we’ll be able to get you out of there.” And all the while, they are hooking up just the right kind of tow cable to help yank me to freedom.
Sweet and soothing words came through my phone, and an invitation to explain the dynamics of just what I experienced as I hit the bump. She listened carefully, not assuming she understood just exactly what kind of damage the bump might have done, and then wisely and expertly she attached a tow cable made of the strongest materials of empathy, encouragement, and prayer and pulled my wheels from the muck.
Lord,
You have made us for relationship, and you have made relationships for us. I thank you ever so heartily, that when I need You in the flesh, You are there in the form of a godly and faithful friend. May I be a friend who is available to lend my heart and my hand, even as my dear friend did for me tonight.
Your Beloved
Tonight I hit a bump in the road.
Not the fun kind of whoopti-do that makes your stomach drop with excitement, but something more accurately depicted as a sink-hole. A familiar place in the road that once was smooth, but that the rains of the season have weakened and the constant travel back and forth over the same stretch of road have buffeted, and now the paved road has given way to cracks, puddles, and a spine –jarring experience for those who travel there.
I could see the bump coming, and tried to swerve appropriately, and perhaps coulda, woulda, and shoulda chose another road, but there I traveled nonetheless, hoping perhaps previous road repairs had smoothed and corrected the damage, but there I landed jarred and shaken by that same old sink-hole. I sat frozen and confused, mumbling at God, while the shock set it, and realized that I needed the services of a good emotional tow: Automobile club for the heart, soul, and mind. I could spin my wheels in the grit, gravel, and mud of my sink-hole or I could call out for a friend with a strong hand and a mighty heart.
And so I did.
I could not call just anybody. I could not call somebody who would be shocked by how I had again ended up in a sink-hole, grumbling about my inability to navigate properly, or my foolishness at not knowing that there was a sink-hole on that particular road. I needed someone with the right equipment. Someone who would say, “Wow that is an ugly sink-hole, I have spun my wheels in one or two just like that myself. As a matter of fact, I think you might have helped tow me out a time or two. Don’t worry, I know you, we’ll be able to get you out of there.” And all the while, they are hooking up just the right kind of tow cable to help yank me to freedom.
Sweet and soothing words came through my phone, and an invitation to explain the dynamics of just what I experienced as I hit the bump. She listened carefully, not assuming she understood just exactly what kind of damage the bump might have done, and then wisely and expertly she attached a tow cable made of the strongest materials of empathy, encouragement, and prayer and pulled my wheels from the muck.
Lord,
You have made us for relationship, and you have made relationships for us. I thank you ever so heartily, that when I need You in the flesh, You are there in the form of a godly and faithful friend. May I be a friend who is available to lend my heart and my hand, even as my dear friend did for me tonight.
Your Beloved
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Day 36: Every Tear
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes.” Revelation 21:4
There is almost nothing more difficult than watching someone that you love truly suffer.
Sometimes it is physical, an illness that buffets their body, and we long to see them free from their pain, able to rest and enjoy life. Often it is a hurt of the heart, and the depths of the soul: A brokenness that for a season or a lifetime defines their outlook on life, on love, and even on their Heavenly Father. A wound so open and infected, that the pain blinds their eyes to the presence of a God who loves them or worse becomes their evidence for His lack of existence. A pain so deep, that it not only impacts my loved one’s view of God, but has an effect of every aspect of their life and each relationship that they experience.
As I turn the pages of my prayer journal, these are the entries that are most prevalent, and are not usually the ones that are answered in a day. They require my commitment; I must pray and keep on praying. They are also the concerns that need no written entry for me to be reminded to pray, as I find my soul cries out consistently and spontaneously with my desires for them. They are my dear ones, my heart is heavy for their freedom, and as I ache for their pain, my mouth is filled with requests that pour from my lips to the Father that I know hears me, and I hope that someday they will be confident in this as well. That in time He will wipe the tears from my eyes, as well as from the eyes of those I love.
I find that prayer is just like relationships; we are made for each, and they both require availability and commitment. We must be in them for the long term, but building and nurturing the relationship in tangible ways in the here and now. Our Father Who Loves Us is also in it for the long haul, but wholly available to intimately relate with us as we breathe out to Him, the pain in our hearts and our concerns for those we deeply love. He cares about each one that we love, just as deeply, and even more, and in time it is His deepest desire to tend to each and every wound. He is here tending to the deep wounds today, and will be here for them tomorrow. He is in it for the long haul.
Lord,
You know the ones that my heart travails over. I will seek You on their behalf for as long as I have breath. Father, please heal their deep wounds, and comfort their broken hearts, just as You have healed mine. Where I have caused pain, let my life become one of healing. Draw each heart nearer and nearer to You, until they know the joy of freedom in You, and can rest safely in your loving arms.
I trust You, when my eyes cannot see for the tears, and my heart aches, I trust You.
I need You.
Your Beloved
There is almost nothing more difficult than watching someone that you love truly suffer.
Sometimes it is physical, an illness that buffets their body, and we long to see them free from their pain, able to rest and enjoy life. Often it is a hurt of the heart, and the depths of the soul: A brokenness that for a season or a lifetime defines their outlook on life, on love, and even on their Heavenly Father. A wound so open and infected, that the pain blinds their eyes to the presence of a God who loves them or worse becomes their evidence for His lack of existence. A pain so deep, that it not only impacts my loved one’s view of God, but has an effect of every aspect of their life and each relationship that they experience.
As I turn the pages of my prayer journal, these are the entries that are most prevalent, and are not usually the ones that are answered in a day. They require my commitment; I must pray and keep on praying. They are also the concerns that need no written entry for me to be reminded to pray, as I find my soul cries out consistently and spontaneously with my desires for them. They are my dear ones, my heart is heavy for their freedom, and as I ache for their pain, my mouth is filled with requests that pour from my lips to the Father that I know hears me, and I hope that someday they will be confident in this as well. That in time He will wipe the tears from my eyes, as well as from the eyes of those I love.
I find that prayer is just like relationships; we are made for each, and they both require availability and commitment. We must be in them for the long term, but building and nurturing the relationship in tangible ways in the here and now. Our Father Who Loves Us is also in it for the long haul, but wholly available to intimately relate with us as we breathe out to Him, the pain in our hearts and our concerns for those we deeply love. He cares about each one that we love, just as deeply, and even more, and in time it is His deepest desire to tend to each and every wound. He is here tending to the deep wounds today, and will be here for them tomorrow. He is in it for the long haul.
Lord,
You know the ones that my heart travails over. I will seek You on their behalf for as long as I have breath. Father, please heal their deep wounds, and comfort their broken hearts, just as You have healed mine. Where I have caused pain, let my life become one of healing. Draw each heart nearer and nearer to You, until they know the joy of freedom in You, and can rest safely in your loving arms.
I trust You, when my eyes cannot see for the tears, and my heart aches, I trust You.
I need You.
Your Beloved
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Day 35:In Faith
“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” Hebrews 11:1
Paging through my prayer journal this morning brought me to tears. Not tears from a saddened heart, but the kind of tears that escape from your eyes when you don’t really mean to cry, but rather, find yourself overwhelmed by the goodness of life and the Creator who gave it to you. Not every prayer has been answered, many may require a lifetime, but still, there is a deep well of hope that lives inside of my soul, that the answers will come, and I will be awestruck.
My prayer journal has grown since I started writing in it this last July, and recently I have found myself overwhelmed by the sheer number of important concerns that I have made a heart commitment to pray about. In truth, I have found myself avoiding my journal, and some days, avoiding truly taking time to sit with the One to whom I address these concerns. In other words, I am having stilted conversations with the Lover of my soul. My prayer has felt rote and lifeless. I have not wanted to abandon the discipline I had begun, but I also did not want to dishonor God with heartless repetition.
I began the process of keeping this most recent prayer journal for two reasons:
First, I want to commit to be disciplined in prayer. I want to be a woman of integrity that follows through on my word, and is obedient to the instruction in the Bible that calls me to take my needs, desires and concerns to Him. Also, I want a way to remember to follow through when I had told someone that I would pray for their concerns.
Second, I need a place to record the mighty and mysterious ways that I have and will see God move in my life, and in the lives of those He calls me to pray for. I want a tangible reminder of His faithfulness, for the days when my human mind simply cannot grasp His amazing goodness, or what plan He could possibly have in mind. There is a key to this remembrance though, one that requires action on my part; I must open the cover, turn back the pages, and see what my God has done, and I must ask, and keep on asking. Seek and keep on seeking, and simply talk to the One I love.
I am sowing seeds of faith, disciplining myself with the hope that I am pleasing Him.
I am stepping out in faith, praying that God will direct my thoughts, my prayers, my words.
As I pulled my journal to my lap this morning, I felt Him encourage me to just read and pray through a couple of pages each day, remembering the answered prayers, and rejoicing, and renewing again my commitment to pray through until I see, with my own eyes, His everyday miracles.
Lord,
Even when I struggle to pray, I know that You do not forget a tear that I have shed, nor a request that I have brought before You. Always, You are faithful. Make me a woman who is faithful in prayer, a woman who delights in her Creator, and let me rejoice continually in the goodness of your plans.
Your Beloved
Paging through my prayer journal this morning brought me to tears. Not tears from a saddened heart, but the kind of tears that escape from your eyes when you don’t really mean to cry, but rather, find yourself overwhelmed by the goodness of life and the Creator who gave it to you. Not every prayer has been answered, many may require a lifetime, but still, there is a deep well of hope that lives inside of my soul, that the answers will come, and I will be awestruck.
My prayer journal has grown since I started writing in it this last July, and recently I have found myself overwhelmed by the sheer number of important concerns that I have made a heart commitment to pray about. In truth, I have found myself avoiding my journal, and some days, avoiding truly taking time to sit with the One to whom I address these concerns. In other words, I am having stilted conversations with the Lover of my soul. My prayer has felt rote and lifeless. I have not wanted to abandon the discipline I had begun, but I also did not want to dishonor God with heartless repetition.
I began the process of keeping this most recent prayer journal for two reasons:
First, I want to commit to be disciplined in prayer. I want to be a woman of integrity that follows through on my word, and is obedient to the instruction in the Bible that calls me to take my needs, desires and concerns to Him. Also, I want a way to remember to follow through when I had told someone that I would pray for their concerns.
Second, I need a place to record the mighty and mysterious ways that I have and will see God move in my life, and in the lives of those He calls me to pray for. I want a tangible reminder of His faithfulness, for the days when my human mind simply cannot grasp His amazing goodness, or what plan He could possibly have in mind. There is a key to this remembrance though, one that requires action on my part; I must open the cover, turn back the pages, and see what my God has done, and I must ask, and keep on asking. Seek and keep on seeking, and simply talk to the One I love.
I am sowing seeds of faith, disciplining myself with the hope that I am pleasing Him.
I am stepping out in faith, praying that God will direct my thoughts, my prayers, my words.
As I pulled my journal to my lap this morning, I felt Him encourage me to just read and pray through a couple of pages each day, remembering the answered prayers, and rejoicing, and renewing again my commitment to pray through until I see, with my own eyes, His everyday miracles.
Lord,
Even when I struggle to pray, I know that You do not forget a tear that I have shed, nor a request that I have brought before You. Always, You are faithful. Make me a woman who is faithful in prayer, a woman who delights in her Creator, and let me rejoice continually in the goodness of your plans.
Your Beloved
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Day 34: Enough
“My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him.” Psalm 62:5
A little frazzled tonight…I suppose that is the logical cause and effect of a fifty year old returning to college. It is a peaceful sort of tired: the kind that comes when you have simply used your day to the best of your own frail abilities, and rather than worrying it to death, you simply let go, bite the head off a gingerbread man left over from the holidays and give it a good soak in a cup of steaming tea.
I am letting go.
I read today something that made perfect sense to me, and I hope I will remember it in the days to come. Days that will be brimming over with home-schooling, and chauffeuring to ballet, and fittings for point shoes, intertwined with my own courageous bouts with my college texts, writing, reading, cleaning a toilet or two, and prayer. I cannot forget to pray! And then there is making time to love and appreciate those around me; starting with the ones who have to live with me day in and day out.
What I read went something like this:
God is His infinite wisdom designed day, and He designed night. He designed them to encompass a total of twenty-four hours. No more, no less. Having designed them as such His express intent must have been that they would be enough. Enough…He also designed each of us, and gave us day and night with the knowledge that as we lived our lives in harmony with His design and desires for us, the day would fit to us, like a well- made garment. We could wear it well, and it would look good on us. Only when we try to “wear” something that is not expressly designed for us, will we feel weighed down, and as if we have been given too much.
As I write, I am reminded of David as he went out to fight the giant Goliath. King Saul tried to give David armor that belonged to him, but the armor was designed for the king, and was much too large for David. Though it was skillfully fashioned, it was made for another man, and would have only hindered the young shepherd as he faced the enemy. It was too much, while his rocks, his sling, and his faith in the Lord were enough.
I only need enough.
Lord,
You made the day for man, not man for the day, and you told us to trust You, and not to worry. I am trusting You. It is, and I am beginning to realize, always has been, enough. For this I greatly praise You. You are enough.
I am at rest.
Your Beloved
A little frazzled tonight…I suppose that is the logical cause and effect of a fifty year old returning to college. It is a peaceful sort of tired: the kind that comes when you have simply used your day to the best of your own frail abilities, and rather than worrying it to death, you simply let go, bite the head off a gingerbread man left over from the holidays and give it a good soak in a cup of steaming tea.
I am letting go.
I read today something that made perfect sense to me, and I hope I will remember it in the days to come. Days that will be brimming over with home-schooling, and chauffeuring to ballet, and fittings for point shoes, intertwined with my own courageous bouts with my college texts, writing, reading, cleaning a toilet or two, and prayer. I cannot forget to pray! And then there is making time to love and appreciate those around me; starting with the ones who have to live with me day in and day out.
What I read went something like this:
God is His infinite wisdom designed day, and He designed night. He designed them to encompass a total of twenty-four hours. No more, no less. Having designed them as such His express intent must have been that they would be enough. Enough…He also designed each of us, and gave us day and night with the knowledge that as we lived our lives in harmony with His design and desires for us, the day would fit to us, like a well- made garment. We could wear it well, and it would look good on us. Only when we try to “wear” something that is not expressly designed for us, will we feel weighed down, and as if we have been given too much.
As I write, I am reminded of David as he went out to fight the giant Goliath. King Saul tried to give David armor that belonged to him, but the armor was designed for the king, and was much too large for David. Though it was skillfully fashioned, it was made for another man, and would have only hindered the young shepherd as he faced the enemy. It was too much, while his rocks, his sling, and his faith in the Lord were enough.
I only need enough.
Lord,
You made the day for man, not man for the day, and you told us to trust You, and not to worry. I am trusting You. It is, and I am beginning to realize, always has been, enough. For this I greatly praise You. You are enough.
I am at rest.
Your Beloved
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Day 33: Heaven on My Mind
“For surely there is a hereafter…” Proverbs 23:18
Heaven is on my mind, but so is Earth, and the life that I am leading, while I walk this earth.
In less than a month, my first grandchild will make his inaugural appearance on this spinning planet, and I care deeply, that my life will make an impact on him for eternity.
Fifteen years ago his grandfather left this earth, never to know this sweet baby boy that I will soon have the privilege to coo over, and yet, I have the hope that the legacy of the grandfather will live on in the grandson.
I am reading through the Proverbs in my daily time of study, and today came across the following scripture:
The father of the righteous will greatly rejoice,
And he who begets a wise child will delight in him.
Let your father and your mother be glad,
And let her who bore you rejoice.
Proverbs 23: 24-25
Immediately, I underlined the passage and scrawled the date, and these words, “For my Grandson,” and as I did, my heart knew the perfect way to share this blessing with him in a lasting and impactful way. I walked to my bookshelf, and pulled a beautifully bound edition of the wilderness stories of Jack London. I opened the cover to reveal the sepia tinged paper and inscribed the scripture on the title page along with the following message:
My dearest first born grandson-
This book belonged to your Grandpa Darren, and was a favorite of his.
Your mother remembers the stories from her childhood,
May you enjoy the adventure as well.
You are a precious gift of God, designed for a beautiful purpose.
I look forward to watching you grow.
Be wise my grandson.
I love you,
Grammie Stacey
My Father in Heaven,
Your name is truly holy! I am so thankful for this little life that You are bringing to my daughter and my son in law. How I ask that You will somehow use my life to help raise this little boy into a godly man, a man who will leave a legacy that will endure for generations, even as his grandfather, and even greater. May your will be done on this earth, in our lives, Lord, and to your glory.
Your Beloved
Heaven is on my mind, but so is Earth, and the life that I am leading, while I walk this earth.
In less than a month, my first grandchild will make his inaugural appearance on this spinning planet, and I care deeply, that my life will make an impact on him for eternity.
Fifteen years ago his grandfather left this earth, never to know this sweet baby boy that I will soon have the privilege to coo over, and yet, I have the hope that the legacy of the grandfather will live on in the grandson.
I am reading through the Proverbs in my daily time of study, and today came across the following scripture:
The father of the righteous will greatly rejoice,
And he who begets a wise child will delight in him.
Let your father and your mother be glad,
And let her who bore you rejoice.
Proverbs 23: 24-25
Immediately, I underlined the passage and scrawled the date, and these words, “For my Grandson,” and as I did, my heart knew the perfect way to share this blessing with him in a lasting and impactful way. I walked to my bookshelf, and pulled a beautifully bound edition of the wilderness stories of Jack London. I opened the cover to reveal the sepia tinged paper and inscribed the scripture on the title page along with the following message:
My dearest first born grandson-
This book belonged to your Grandpa Darren, and was a favorite of his.
Your mother remembers the stories from her childhood,
May you enjoy the adventure as well.
You are a precious gift of God, designed for a beautiful purpose.
I look forward to watching you grow.
Be wise my grandson.
I love you,
Grammie Stacey
My Father in Heaven,
Your name is truly holy! I am so thankful for this little life that You are bringing to my daughter and my son in law. How I ask that You will somehow use my life to help raise this little boy into a godly man, a man who will leave a legacy that will endure for generations, even as his grandfather, and even greater. May your will be done on this earth, in our lives, Lord, and to your glory.
Your Beloved
Monday, January 3, 2011
Day 32: Treasures
“Through wisdom a house is built,
And by understanding it is established;
By knowledge the rooms are filled
With all precious and pleasant riches.”
Proverbs 24: 3-4
The day has slipped away again, swiftly, silently, like a star shooting through a midnight sky, causing me to blink and wonder if I saw it at all. My husband sleeps soundly in our bed, tired from the pre-dawn alarm that called him back to his first day of work in this New Year, and I too long to pull the downy comforter up over my ears. My soon to be a man of a son sits at his desk still pouring over his senior year studies, and my energetic pre-teen gets out of bed for yet another hug, a pretense, but still one I have trouble turning away.
Laundry still sits waiting to be folded; dishes wait patiently on the counter, asking to be tucked in the dishwasher. The tasks will be there tomorrow, and for that matter the next, as well. For now my thoughts run to the moments of my day that I hope will have a value that will last beyond the minute trajectory of my lifetime. I am searching the corners of my mind for the treasures, the “precious and pleasant riches”, and hoping I have filled my house to rafters with these shining wonders:
An I love you and a smile to my husband.
Ten minutes on the phone encouraging my daughter, as she puts her life in order to move across the country, as well as another hour spent talking to her older sister as she awaits the birth of her first child.
A ticket purchased to fly out to celebrate the birth of that sweet baby, my first grandson.
A little back scratching at bed-time, a silly lullaby, a kiss, a hug: acts of love.
A few sweet breaths leaning in the door jamb of my sons room, watching him work. A teasing comment, a smile, an apology for an earlier act of thoughtlessness.
Time spent on my knees praying for each and every member of this beautiful family that has been entrusted to me.
This is the wealth I seek. A moment invested wisely, a concern truly heard. A hug, a prayer, a kiss, a smile; time stopped so a memory can be painted on the heart of someone I love. May it be a priceless work of art, almost as beautiful as the canvas it is painted on.
Lord,
How much energy I expend on caring for my home, and it is good, and worthy that I do so. Still I ask You these most important things: Fill me with wisdom, that I might be a builder, Give me understanding so that all that You enable me to build will be lasting, and Finally, fill me with the knowledge of You and your son that so I will have a heart and a home that are abundant with the pleasant and precious treasures that will create an inheritance of joy and peace for my children, their children, and all You bring into our lives.
Your Beloved (Sowing Seeds in Faith)
And by understanding it is established;
By knowledge the rooms are filled
With all precious and pleasant riches.”
Proverbs 24: 3-4
The day has slipped away again, swiftly, silently, like a star shooting through a midnight sky, causing me to blink and wonder if I saw it at all. My husband sleeps soundly in our bed, tired from the pre-dawn alarm that called him back to his first day of work in this New Year, and I too long to pull the downy comforter up over my ears. My soon to be a man of a son sits at his desk still pouring over his senior year studies, and my energetic pre-teen gets out of bed for yet another hug, a pretense, but still one I have trouble turning away.
Laundry still sits waiting to be folded; dishes wait patiently on the counter, asking to be tucked in the dishwasher. The tasks will be there tomorrow, and for that matter the next, as well. For now my thoughts run to the moments of my day that I hope will have a value that will last beyond the minute trajectory of my lifetime. I am searching the corners of my mind for the treasures, the “precious and pleasant riches”, and hoping I have filled my house to rafters with these shining wonders:
An I love you and a smile to my husband.
Ten minutes on the phone encouraging my daughter, as she puts her life in order to move across the country, as well as another hour spent talking to her older sister as she awaits the birth of her first child.
A ticket purchased to fly out to celebrate the birth of that sweet baby, my first grandson.
A little back scratching at bed-time, a silly lullaby, a kiss, a hug: acts of love.
A few sweet breaths leaning in the door jamb of my sons room, watching him work. A teasing comment, a smile, an apology for an earlier act of thoughtlessness.
Time spent on my knees praying for each and every member of this beautiful family that has been entrusted to me.
This is the wealth I seek. A moment invested wisely, a concern truly heard. A hug, a prayer, a kiss, a smile; time stopped so a memory can be painted on the heart of someone I love. May it be a priceless work of art, almost as beautiful as the canvas it is painted on.
Lord,
How much energy I expend on caring for my home, and it is good, and worthy that I do so. Still I ask You these most important things: Fill me with wisdom, that I might be a builder, Give me understanding so that all that You enable me to build will be lasting, and Finally, fill me with the knowledge of You and your son that so I will have a heart and a home that are abundant with the pleasant and precious treasures that will create an inheritance of joy and peace for my children, their children, and all You bring into our lives.
Your Beloved (Sowing Seeds in Faith)
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Day 31: Land of Lush Beauty
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Matthew 5:8
I rediscovered a familiar place that I love today, a place I have been unable to get to during the busyness of the holiday season, the illness that followed, and especially while I was digging the trenches to prepare the embattlement of my own rightness.
I first discovered this land of lush beauty, nearly two years ago on my honeymoon. My discovery came set against the blue skies and sparkling crystal waters of a tropical Caribbean paradise. Our days were to be filled with luscious island fruits, sailing to volcanoes still clouded with steam, and hiking trips that led us through botanical gardens that whispered of Eden. And there it happened: My 48 years of humanness collided soundly and irrevocably with my husband’s 53 years of the same disease. It could not be mistaken, like Adam and Eve, lips still wet from that first juicy bite, we saw each other as we really were…
In the months before my wedding, I had been reading through parts of the New Testament, and found myself praying fairly consistently that God would make me pure in heart. My motive, to the best of my own understanding was upright, and straight-forward. I simply had a desire to see God more clearly, in my life, in others, in creation, and truly, in ways I had never imagined. A friend and mentor calls this God-sightings, and she looks avidly each day for His presence evidenced in her life.
The choice of location for our honeymoon had been a gift to me. I alone had been given the final decision on where we would spend our days, and I chose an island that I had read of years before in my days as a scuba and travel writer; St. Lucia. First class seats were secured for much of our trip, and having only flown with this privilege one other time some 28 years before, I was delighted at the care and detail taken by my new husband in the planning of our trip. Still, just days into perfection, it seemed I could only see flaw in the planner, and began to allow my vision to cloud. Not only could I not see God, I could simply not see the wealth of beauty that surrounded me.
In my blindness, I felt a whisper:
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for she shall God, in her husband.”
The message was as transparent as the ocean beyond the balcony of my room. I would see Him the moment I opened my eyes and started to look around. I would see Him, in the imperfections that make my husband utterly perfect for me. I would see Him in the generosity of a man who simply wanted our first trip as husband and wife to be a memory of a lifetime. And as I open myself up to appreciate every good and perfect gift that surrounds me daily, I will see Him: In the smile of my children, the faithful words of a friend, the food on my table, and the crisp sound of the rain as it dances outside my window.
I have found my paradise again, that sweet taste of heaven He so richly offers me if I will but look, the land where my eyes fill with tears of joy, and my arms are compelled to embrace those around me. May I learn to live in the land, for truly, it is overflowing with glimpses of Him.
Lord of All Creation,
How sweet is the place that You have planned for me, if I will but look at the beauty of it, and dwell in the land. You are never far for me, oh even, when I am so distant from You. Teach me YOUR ways that I might walk in your disciplines, and always look with a diligent eye for your presence. May I see You, that my heart might be pure!
I love You,
Your Beloved
I rediscovered a familiar place that I love today, a place I have been unable to get to during the busyness of the holiday season, the illness that followed, and especially while I was digging the trenches to prepare the embattlement of my own rightness.
I first discovered this land of lush beauty, nearly two years ago on my honeymoon. My discovery came set against the blue skies and sparkling crystal waters of a tropical Caribbean paradise. Our days were to be filled with luscious island fruits, sailing to volcanoes still clouded with steam, and hiking trips that led us through botanical gardens that whispered of Eden. And there it happened: My 48 years of humanness collided soundly and irrevocably with my husband’s 53 years of the same disease. It could not be mistaken, like Adam and Eve, lips still wet from that first juicy bite, we saw each other as we really were…
In the months before my wedding, I had been reading through parts of the New Testament, and found myself praying fairly consistently that God would make me pure in heart. My motive, to the best of my own understanding was upright, and straight-forward. I simply had a desire to see God more clearly, in my life, in others, in creation, and truly, in ways I had never imagined. A friend and mentor calls this God-sightings, and she looks avidly each day for His presence evidenced in her life.
The choice of location for our honeymoon had been a gift to me. I alone had been given the final decision on where we would spend our days, and I chose an island that I had read of years before in my days as a scuba and travel writer; St. Lucia. First class seats were secured for much of our trip, and having only flown with this privilege one other time some 28 years before, I was delighted at the care and detail taken by my new husband in the planning of our trip. Still, just days into perfection, it seemed I could only see flaw in the planner, and began to allow my vision to cloud. Not only could I not see God, I could simply not see the wealth of beauty that surrounded me.
In my blindness, I felt a whisper:
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for she shall God, in her husband.”
The message was as transparent as the ocean beyond the balcony of my room. I would see Him the moment I opened my eyes and started to look around. I would see Him, in the imperfections that make my husband utterly perfect for me. I would see Him in the generosity of a man who simply wanted our first trip as husband and wife to be a memory of a lifetime. And as I open myself up to appreciate every good and perfect gift that surrounds me daily, I will see Him: In the smile of my children, the faithful words of a friend, the food on my table, and the crisp sound of the rain as it dances outside my window.
I have found my paradise again, that sweet taste of heaven He so richly offers me if I will but look, the land where my eyes fill with tears of joy, and my arms are compelled to embrace those around me. May I learn to live in the land, for truly, it is overflowing with glimpses of Him.
Lord of All Creation,
How sweet is the place that You have planned for me, if I will but look at the beauty of it, and dwell in the land. You are never far for me, oh even, when I am so distant from You. Teach me YOUR ways that I might walk in your disciplines, and always look with a diligent eye for your presence. May I see You, that my heart might be pure!
I love You,
Your Beloved
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Day 30: And Do Good
“Trust in the Lord and do good.” Psalm 37:3
Forty-eight hours of illness; body aches, headache, and a sinus infection followed by an upset stomach and then I awoke to a New Year. I drank a glass of orange juice to herald in the advent of another year I have been graciously given, and then continued on with the mental wrestling match I had been participating in prior to the onset of my fury of symptoms. Oh, the waste, and the general lack of gratitude that I have been letting rule my universe…and I am sorry. I am a stubborn one, and yet the Creator of all that is beautiful, and perfect, and worthy of praise, loves me, and still, I forget to trust Him. I am struggling with this common theme right now.
How simple it is for me to trust when all goes my way, but like a spoiled child, I do not want to trust when it is hard. And of course, I do not want to, for that very reason: because it is HARD!
His message to me is simple and straight forward:
Trust in Me, when all is beautiful, and do good.
But also:
Trust in Me, when someone has wronged you, and do good!
Trust in Me, when you have no idea what I have planned for you, and do good!
Trust in Me, when you are afraid of the future, and do good!
The trusting part can be so difficult, but to actually act in opposition to how I feel and do good? Impossible!
Except for Christ… How grateful I am that He is patient with me.
Merciful Father,
Forgive me for becoming entrenched in my own fear and stubbornness, so much so that I would not thank you for this new and amazing year, nor for all that You have done in my life over the past year. I am not worthy of your name, but ever so grateful for your grace and forgiveness. I start afresh with the sudden realization of every good and perfect gift You so continuously bestow on my life.
Your Grateful Beloved
Forty-eight hours of illness; body aches, headache, and a sinus infection followed by an upset stomach and then I awoke to a New Year. I drank a glass of orange juice to herald in the advent of another year I have been graciously given, and then continued on with the mental wrestling match I had been participating in prior to the onset of my fury of symptoms. Oh, the waste, and the general lack of gratitude that I have been letting rule my universe…and I am sorry. I am a stubborn one, and yet the Creator of all that is beautiful, and perfect, and worthy of praise, loves me, and still, I forget to trust Him. I am struggling with this common theme right now.
How simple it is for me to trust when all goes my way, but like a spoiled child, I do not want to trust when it is hard. And of course, I do not want to, for that very reason: because it is HARD!
His message to me is simple and straight forward:
Trust in Me, when all is beautiful, and do good.
But also:
Trust in Me, when someone has wronged you, and do good!
Trust in Me, when you have no idea what I have planned for you, and do good!
Trust in Me, when you are afraid of the future, and do good!
The trusting part can be so difficult, but to actually act in opposition to how I feel and do good? Impossible!
Except for Christ… How grateful I am that He is patient with me.
Merciful Father,
Forgive me for becoming entrenched in my own fear and stubbornness, so much so that I would not thank you for this new and amazing year, nor for all that You have done in my life over the past year. I am not worthy of your name, but ever so grateful for your grace and forgiveness. I start afresh with the sudden realization of every good and perfect gift You so continuously bestow on my life.
Your Grateful Beloved
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