Loved Even More Than Birdie

Every day, without fail, he comes to the window.

How he knows I am awake or how long he has been watching for me... only God knows!  My little friend---Mr. Black Bird.  Or, "Birdie" as we fondly refer to him.

Early each morning, I stumble downstairs and find myself a glass of water.  First things first...I am just trying to wake up!  And, without fail, Birdie flies over to my kitchen window.  He turns his head left, then right, trying to see me more clearly... I think.  Then he chirps.  Sometimes silently, just an open mouth chirp, like you might imagine from a young bird opening to his mother.  Sometimes he offers some soft sound. He is coming for food.  Raisins, to be exact.  (I have offered him alternatives without success)  His early morning cheeky begging for raisins is one of my great joys each morning.  I can hardly express the happiness it gives me to see him fly over---almost like he is announcing, "You're here!".

I adore his "feed me" eagerness and persistence.  I can walk around the kitchen for half an hour and he will wait.  Turning his head left, then right.  Mouth open.  Waiting.  Expecting.  He knows...  He just knows I can't resist him.  Too cute for words.

This was the keen picture which came to my mind today.  I was praying and telling God how thankful I was for His grand abundance of provision in my life.  There is so much He has given me---eyes that work, ears that hear, feet that function, a roof keeping off this horrid rain, a warm bed, food in abundance, and so so much more.  How can I even begin to articulate the gifts of goodness the Lord provides!?  I was in a moment of profound gratefulness... when this clear image of Birdie popped into my mind.

As I was prayerfully curious about the picture, I could sense God wanting to show Himself--- His heart.  This.  This, Stephanie, is how I feel about you. 

Like a flash, I had the thought that God loves to give.  ...No, not only loves...   God loves AND delights to give His kids good gifts.  It makes Him thoroughly happy when we come to Him for our food.  When we daily look for Him, wait for Him, and when we expect good things from His hand.  The joy I feel when I feed Birdie--- this.  This is how God feels about us.  We can bring Him joy.  You and me.  The thought of bringing joy and delight to God is truly staggering; and, certainly Biblical.

"You are precious in my eyes.... and I love you." (Isaiah 43:4)

"God the Father will give good gifts to those who ask Him." (Matthew 7:11)

"The Lord Almighty will take great delight in you..." (Zephaniah 3:17)

The verses are endless.  If you look for the heart of God---Old Testament and New--- you will see the heart of love, delight, and determination on God's part to give goodness to His people.

Lord, thank You for your daily provision for me.  You give me so many things... and even "raisins" (what I like!).  Keep my heart ready and waiting for You each day.  May I run to Your word and wait in anticipation for Your filling and feeding.  You delight to give me good things!  Your food is my hearts greatest desire, I know.  Keep me eager and persistent and ever looking for it---and looking for You.  

Every day.  Without fail.  I want to come to you and wait expectantly.

A Beautiful Gift

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I am a super practical girl.  My family and friends know this.  I guess that is why they offer me presents "with a purpose" which they know I will like---some of my most prized gifts being a kitchen mixer, mugs, a cast iron pot, a journal, and ipod speakers.  (Books and good music, by the way, do fit in this category... very, very practical, to my way of thinking!)  

Gifts that fit and fulfill a need...  these 'hit the spot' well with me.  

But, when it comes down to it, in reality, I am quite needy.  My awareness of my neediness has been coming awake for some time now.   I am needy.  As I inch my way forward through life, slowly gaining experience and insight into life;  I become more and more aware of this truth... my every-day-human-reality-needs.

I am hungry for so many things.  I long for love, grace, attention, quiet, peace, kindness, truth, and beauty---to name just a few.  Like the oxygen I need to breathe and the water that sustains me, so I also require so many other gifts to flourish in life---relationships, connection, belonging...  

God knows this about me.  He knows this about His people.  We are, indeed, a needy lot.  

Among the myriad of promises God utters to Moses in Exodus, He tells Moses that His very Presence will go with them.  "My Presence will go with you..." (Exodus 33:14)  

What a gift!  This idea is so wonderful and so full of hope.  With God's Presence comes the reality of cover, power, strength and provision.  But, that is not what God emphasizes in these verses---in this conversation of promise with Moses.   He offers something else with His Presence...  

"My Presence will go with you and I will give you rest."  

Rest.  

With His Presence comes the gift of rest...  Pull up next to God and you get such a beautiful gift.

I would venture to guess that if I asked most any room full of people this question, "Who would like or is in need of rest?"  I would bet that every hand would raise and a resounding, "Me!!" would sound with enthusiasm.  

We all need rest.  Deeply, we need rest.  Body rest... soul rest... mind rest.  

With His Presence, I find rest.  You, too, can find rest for your soul.  

I can enter in.  We can receive this gift.  We can sidle up next to Him and receive---or, at least, what He longs to give---is rest.  

"Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest."  (Matthew 11:28)  

What a lovely, very practical gift He gives!!  This practical girl is a happy girl.  

Directionally Challenged

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It's been a joke in our family for years.  We laugh in agreement at the facts of the case... I am, indeed, "directionally challenged".   Regularly, my husband painfully and patiently explains the route, yet again...   Yes, I have been there many times.  But, no, I can't remember how to get there this time. Directions.  A great challenge;  extreme and laughable.  They joke that if someone set me down in the middle of my small town, I may have trouble finding my way home.  I'm not sure I am that bad. But, maybe.

That is why Monday was so remarkable.

My daughter and I were headed out to a new part of the nearest city.  Headed to a funeral, I was responsible to drive us there.  This type of scenario is a typical, big time "stress-trigger" for me. A general, low level anxiety and insecurity is commonly triggered by the unknown.  New things do this to me.  Can I do this?  Can I handle it?  A new place.  New directions.  New situation (I have never been to a funeral in this culture).  New people.  This has always been a recipe for overwhelmed, anxious, and/or afraid.  But, Monday was different--- markedly and remarkably different.

Something had changed and both my daughter and I noted it.  I just wasn't concerned or worried.  I could certainly feel the tension and reality of not knowing where I was going... and the newness.  But, that is all it was--- slight "normal" tension.  It just wasn't anxiety.  I didn't feel upset or uneasy.  I was calm.  I had the sense that we would make our way with no problem and all would be fine.  This, I know, is the way a lot of people simply live their life.  My husband walks through life with this foundational security. It is beautiful and admirable.  But, it has not been me.

Something had changed.  I believe there are profound moments in our God-journey where we can "see" proof from years of prayer and walking with Jesus.  Monday was that day!

Worry, calculation and 'overwhelmed' have been a constant companions these 40+ years; walking with me, since before I can remember.  I cope.  Sometimes I cope really well.  And, have learned many tricks and tactics--- most people don't have a clue my internal reality.  (Isn't this true for most of us?)  In 2009, I wrote a blog post entitled "What if I just stopped"---questioning and challenging this worrying bend in myself.

In fact, for as long as I have known Jesus, I have been bringing Him these worries... this overwhelmed "natural" tendency.  He has spoken for years, through a variety of ways, about this issue*.   Certainly, by His grace, there has been slow growth.  We have talked together about why I have this... from family of origin, personality to sin habits, God and I have been conversing and looking and digging.  And, I have been asking...

Suddenly, I was seeing something new.  Something miraculous had shifted in me.

His Word tells me that He is completing His good work in me and creating in me a clean heart---  I think I saw a beautiful piece of His work on Monday.  I didn't really DO anything to produce this difference.  ...just time, trust, leaning in, looking, confessing, and the silent, deep work of the Spirit.  "In the silence of the heart, You speak", Audrey Assad sings.  "You liberate me from my own noise and my own chaos...  You said be free... in the work of the Spirit---I cannot see".

He has spoken.  "Un-seeable" work done by this quiet Spirit.  Yet again, I am changed.  He has done it.  The unseen becomes visible.

Mom, your are not anxious and not worried.  You aren't questioning yourself.  You just seem calm. These were my daughter's words.  And, I was!

One of the most interesting moments in the day, though, came when I had to make my way home after the funeral.  Miraculously, I did so without any map, or directions.  For the first time in my entire life, I didn't feel directionally challenged.  We just made our way.  What!?  Was it the freedom in my physical brain to just work properly now without anxiety and worry to cloud and confuse? Was this also a part of the gift, the Spirit's change and work?

Laughingly, I tell my family, if I am no longer directionally challenged... what in the world will they tease me for next!

...Plenty other issues to choose from---to be sure--- no worries there.  (smile)



*a myriad of other blog posts on worry...

Thankful for Color

Thank you God for the color yellow!

 As I look and ask my kind Father for eyes to see, I am becoming more aware of His daily gifts of love, grace and beauty!  I am seeing, again, the "little" things and I am thanking Him for each one... or, at least, each one I notice!

Thank you, Lord, for beautiful blue!  

He has given me color in my life.  And, for this I am so very thankful!  Colorful things, colorful people, and colorful situations...  All grace-gifts from His hand.

Open my eyes, Lord, to see even more of Your gifts of love today!  

Thank you Father God for bold red! 

I am joining others from Ann's blog in counting my way to 1,000 Gifts!  You can join us in this lovely adventure, or just enjoy with me a few notations from my list this past week:

#77.  His early morning mussed hair and big, tight, sweet hugs.

#79.  Friendship and deep connections.

#88.  Safety in our home.

#93.  God's word that speaks to me daily.

#94.  Friendly smiles, friendly faces.

#102.  God singing to me.

#109.  My deep weaknesses and my imperfections.

#110.  Becoming aware of my anger.

#113.  God giving us dreams as a place to process.

#121.  Yellow!! So beautiful. 

#122.  A text of love.

#126.  Blue!!

#127.  Red!

#129.  Hearing his voice.  He called.

#136.  Art in the kitchen.

#137.  Naked moments and His flood of love and Presence and covering.

#138.  Music that reminds and teaches me of Truth.

This too...a gift from loving hands

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We are taught to say, "Thank you" for gifts received from when we are very young.  Even now, I often remind my kids to be careful they "thank" the gift-giver before they even open the gift.   "Say 'thank you', I tell them, "the very second it it given.  Then open it..."  

I want to teach my kids thankfulness for the giving---not even necessarily for the gift.  Thankfulness for the heart of the giver---the generosity, the thoughtfulness, the kindness.  And, thankfulness for the trust to open it, knowing that this giver is good and kind.

This, too, a gift from His loving hand.  

In our home, these has been the words we have been speaking to each other lately...

Today, as I drove around Southern California lost, a bit anxious and late for an appointment, my husband (after giving me correct directions and helping me find my way) said these words to me through the cell phone.  He said them as we were hanging up.  He said them with a smile in his voice.   I could hear it.  I could hear his smile, saying those gentle words...

This, too, my love, ...is a gift from His loving hand.

Deepening trust.  That is what I have been asking for.  This is just what I asked Him for this morning.    Father, I am rooted and established in love.  May I know this Love more!  May I trust this Love, Your love.   May I rest in Your unfailing love.  

To grow in the knowledge of the height and depth of His love and then to rest in that Truth always.  ...in all circumstances.

When I am lost.  Or, in pain.  When I am sad.  Or, overwhelmed.  When I am tired.

To see my life as wonderfully ordered and beautifully orchestrated by a loving, Creative, kind and All knowing Father.   To trust all things He allows and brings and gives...  as gifts from His loving hand.

This too...is from My loving hand...


Trust is not trust until it has been tested. 
- Charles Spurgeon

What makes you want to dance?

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With a huge smile on her face, she jumped up and down at the back window as I stood in the kitchen.  She came home visibly shaking and dancing with glee!  My sweet 12 year old daughter...

And, I immediately had a thought--- are you doing what makes you happy?

She had just delivered a hand made gift to an elderly neighbor.  It brought her so much joy to bless.  To give.  Such a simple thing, really.  But, the giving gave her deep joy.  And, she wanted more...  More joy!

Poking her head in the doorway she asked, "Can I bring hot chocolate to the construction workers next door?"  She wanted more giving-joy!

So we heated up water, made the hot chocolate and she carried over coffees and chocolate on a tray to the group of men who have been working hard for months next door.   The smile on their faces were remarkable, to be sure; but, the smile on her face was priceless.  She literally skipped home and into our door.

Am I doing what makes me most happy? 

My girl came out of the womb a gift giver.  While she developed in my body those 9 months, God wove into her personality a desire to give and get gifts.  Frankly, she just loves gifts!  And, gifts give her joy.  They speak something to her soul that I do not innately understand .   When she gives and when she gets, she feels joy and love.

And, it isn't just gifts that make her smile.  She loves to hug.  She loves to worship with song; she loves to sing.  She loves to create beautiful things and take long walks with her friends.  ...all intricate details of her, my sweet daughter.

We are most happy---and by happy, I mean true happiness, pure joy, deep-seated contentment----when we are being who God made us to be and doing that which He made us to do.  What makes me smile and dance inside is different than my girl.  We are all unique.

Chosen before the foundation of the earth and hand-made inside our mothers, we are all unique.  He has given each of us special things to do, ways to relate, contributions to make... an offering of ourselves.  What is yours?  

What brings that huge smile on your face or in your soul?  What makes your heart sing?   What makes you shake and dance inside...  deep inside?  And are you doing it?

I want to do it more.

Father, teach me to do those things that will make me most happy, truly happy!  Lord, may I honor You with all of me.  Thank you for making me and creating me uniquely.  Help me to know how You have gifted me and to know how You would have me give of myself for Your glory and Kingdom.  For I am Your masterpiece.  You have created me in Christ Jesus, so that I can do the good things You have planned long ago!!  Ephesians 2:10

Why I write. Why I blog.

I can't help but write these days.  I have blog posts spilling out of me--- filling my head during times with the Lord, during times of worship, during phone conversations and funny moments with my children.  Writing has become a sweet gift!

I read a fabulous article about one's motivation behind writing.  After reading this post, I actually thought, for the very first time... I think I am a writer.

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I write because I can't help writing.

I have always written.

I wrote poetry (horrible poetry, really) all through my teenage years.  I began my Christian journey at age 15 with a journal in my hand.  Notebooks and notebooks filled with ideas and thoughts along the road.  ...years of lessons written down, experiences registered.  These journals now stored away in plastic boxes in an attic.  I can't even begin to count the prayers I have hand-written to my Father in Heaven.  Most every sermon or message I have ever heard has been logged and scratched in bullet points and quotes---these notes, now thrown somewhere in the bottom of my purse, in the back of my bible, or in the rubbish bin!

Why do I write?  I write because I can't help myself.  It is, I am realizing, how God made me.  I have a voice.  I have things to say.  His things in me.

Do I want others to read?  Sometimes, no.  Most the time, yes, of course.  Another person's reading my writing is an important part of the process of speaking this voice--- but, it is not the why.  I don't write so you will read. (Well, most of the time---in those pure times).

I write because I just must get these thoughts, ....these phrases, these themes, these lessons He is teaching me... out.   I need them out of my head, out of my heart, and "on paper".

I found this beautiful "blogger's prayer" that I just must re-post (from Ann Voskamp at A Holy Experience).  The thought of a blogger's prayer actually sounded a bit cheesy to me, to be honest.  Quite cheesy, actually.  Really?  I thought.  And then I read it.  ...all "cheese" flew out the window for me.  And, now I post it and I  pray it.

 I am no longer my own blogger, but Thine, O Lord. 

Refine me with each post how You will, rank me how You will.

Put me to service, or put me to suffering.

Let me post for Thee or be put aside for Thee,

Lifted high, only for Thee, or brought low, all for Thee.

Do with me and each post whatever you will, because You alone know best.

 Let me not strive but submit Let me not compete but care

Let me not desire hits but holiness

Let me be a follower, instead of seeking followers.

 Let my blog be full of Thee, and let it be empty of me.

Let me crave all things of Thee, let me care nothing of this world.

Let my words be worthy of the greatest of audiences: You.

And You are enough. May I write not for subscribers… but only for Thy smile.

May my daily affirmation be in the surety of my atonement,

not the size of my audience.

May my identity be in the innumerable graces of Christ,

never, God forbid, the numbers of my comments.

May the only words that matter in my life not be the ones I write on a screen ---but the ones I live with my skin.

 I freely and heartily yield every sentence, every title, every post, every comment… or no comments… all to Thine pleasure and perfect will.

 My only fame is that I bear Your name

My only glory is the gift of Your Grace

My only readership, Your eyes that seek to and fro to find a heart hard after You.

Make this so, oh Lord…

 Yahweh, You alone are my God, not Google

Jesus, You alone are my Savior, not site meters

And Holy Spirit, You alone are my Comforter, not comments

 So be it, today, yesterday, and every post to come.

 This is my prayer I have made on earth and over this keyboard… let it be ratified in heaven.

Amen. 

Just One Drop

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His love is never ending.  His compassions they fail not.  His mercy is new every morning.  And, His faithfulness reaches to the sky.

His blessings flow like a river... an ocean flood... into my life!

Rejoice with me!!!  I just finished counting to 1,000 this week!  Joining others at A Holy Experience, I took the challenge to count my blessings.  On a simple spiral bound notebook (now stained and dirty from wear), I logged 1,000 grace-gifts from God!

I am well aware, now that I have reached #1,000, that my list is only a drop in the bucket.  I have only counted a small bit, just a drop, of His endless goodness, grace and blessings to me and to His world!

The drop splashed with these final blessings:

#980.  Cancelled events.  ...grace gifts for a quieter day.

982.  Our lovely hot fireplace on this very cold day.

984.  They still want to snuggle their mommy.

985.  The library.

986.  Spontaneous worship in the kitchen with my kids while cleaning dishes.

987.  Early morning shower.

988.  A deep, sweet , heart talk with my girl.

989.  Emails from my man... missing him much.

990.  Fall beauty, red climbing and orange falling.

991.  Waiting.  Waiting.  Space in my day to wait.

992.  A good price on milk.  I love a bargain!

993.  Kept awake much of the night in order to pray.

994.  There is nothin' like the taste of fried food! Chimichangas!

995.  Touches of His endless love--- moments of sweet closeness.

996.  Pinks, oranges, yellow of sunrise.

998.  A compliment.

999.  Seeing his face on Skype.

#1,000.  His abundance of gifts--- poured out day after day.  I could never count them all!

Just a sweet, thirst quenching, beautiful big drop in the bucket!

If you want to join the hunt, go and visit Ann's blog at www.aholyexperience.com or read her One Thousand Gifts!

Join the "Hymn" of Thanksgiving

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For home school this morning we read from Then Sings My Soul by Robert Morgan:  a beautiful book that shares the stories of 150 classic hymns:

  "An old English preacher once said, "A grateful mind is a great mind," and the Bible agrees.  There are 138 passages of Scripture on the subject of thanksgiving...  Colossians 3:17 says:  And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him"  I Thessalonians 5:18 adds, "In everything give thanks, this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.'" (p. 17)

We read about a hymn of thanksgiving written in the midst of the most dire circumstances.  Poverty, sickness, and death surrounded the writer of "Now Thank We All Our God"   ...the man who wrote this hymn was certainly practicing Paul's command to "Rejoice always!"

Today, I join others in a "hymn of thanksgiving" at www.aholyexperience.com.  Joining Ann Voskamp and others, I continue counting, on my way to logging 1,000 gifts of love and grace from God.  For, I agree, a grateful mind is a great mind."  I want my mind to be great with gratitude!

Here is a portion of my list from this last week:

#945.  A good, healthy "fight" with my husband.  Good resolution, healthy conflict, forgiveness...  connection and closeness.  Understanding.

946.  Freedom to sleep in on Saturday!

947.  Helpful customer service.

948.  Hair products as a testimony of Father's kind love to a friend.

950.  "Yes, Mommy!"  said with joy and obedience.

951.  Wind that howls outside.

952.  That good ol "cried wolf" story told by Daddy to make a point.

953.  Evening walk with my family.

954.  Berries off the bushes for dessert.

955.  Silly (stupid) movies that harmless and funny.

956.  Classic literature that moves me.

959.  Leaving dishes in the sink with joy and freedom.  They don't scream at me as loudly!

960.  Plans made with friends.

961.  Beautiful, handmade birthday cards made for Grandma.

961.  A rainy walk with my son and then a close cuddle on the couch to warm up with a book.

Still Counting!!

It has been a while since I have posted my "counting" list. Taking the beautiful challenge put forth in Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts, I began counting my way to 1,000 gifts of grace. It has been such a wonderful blessing in my life!

So, here goes a portion of my recent list...

806. Sweet words from my dad

807. "His hand" picture in my mind's eye.

810. Memorizing together.

811. Sweet servant's attitudes seen in my kids.

812. Singing while working.

813. Her voice, beautiful and clear.

816. They liked my cookies!

819. Love developing as we pray together.

826. What does it mean to love God, Mommy?

829. New friends baking together in my kitchen.

830. Brisk walk on a cool morning.

833. Morning hugs from my boy.

834. Photos to help me remember happy moments.

835. He is writing from his heart.

837. Writing is welling up from within him, my man!

838. Deeper still, Stephanie.

839. The blessing of hearing hearts over skype.

840. That clean, just bathed, smell of my boy!

841. Her mature response to our conflict.

843. She is hearing from God!!

848. Loving conviction from a gentle Father.

850. Watching my son give his sister the biggest piece.

I am counting along side many others in worship! If you want to join us or just peek at other's lists: www.aholyexperience.com

Journey of Tears

For those who have read recently here, I have shared a bit of my "journey of tears" (as I am now fond of calling it). Today, I share with you a bit more.

If you knew me well, or know my history, you would be aware that weeping (or any tears for that matter) does not come easy for me. I have a sweet friend who is fond of telling me, "you need to cry more!... or you need a good cry!". She has been saying this to me for the last 10 years at least! And, she has been right. In the past, my husband has jokingly asked if he should just consistently yell at me or be unkind in order to get the tears flowing. Just to be clear, he hasn't actually tried this suggestion (for which I am grateful ;). But, it makes my point!

Tears have not come easy for me in my adult life. I don't have memory of them coming often as a child, or a pre-teen... I am assured by my father that I did in fact cry as a child. ...and he describes me, in my childhood, as a "sensitive child". For whatever reason, as a growing woman in my home, this was discouraged and diminished. I have few memories of crying in my late teens. It seemed that I received the message that crying was not a good thing somewhere along the line. And, when I entered the church at the tender age of 15, the message of "no tears" was most definitely (and unfortunately) reinforced. Verbally, or more often non-verbally, other Christians were markedly uncomfortable with strong emotion and tears... it was a weakness, maybe lacking faith. I can't really articulate the "message" I received exactly. But, the tears distinctly stopped when I crossed the threshold of the church.

I can note occasions in my life where tears flowed... very marked occasions. And, through the years, there have been some significant healing moments where tears began and blessing flowed as I wept some pent up, or even ripe, emotions. In fact, I would say that the more health and wholeness defines me, the more I have been released and my soul (and eyes!) had cried.

But, all said, I don't (or haven't) cried much... regardless of the pain... in the past 20 years. I have wept very few tears. Until now.

I seem to cry a lot these days. I wept again yesterday and it was deeply spiritual and without a doubt from my Father. Is it possible that instead of speaking in tongues, I have been given the "gift of tears"? I don't know. But, what I do know is that yesterday as I walked the fields near my house, I wept... I cried uncontrollably and those tears were prayer in and of themselves.

It is berry season here and the hedge rows that separate field from field are full and fat with deeply purple berries. They really are a beauty to look at and amazing to eat! So, yesterday, I walked and picked and ate... and prayed. As my hand reached out to pick the 4th or 5th berry, I burst into tears! Taking it to my mouth, I plopped it in and began to cry and cry and cry... The only words I can express or use to describe what filled my heart was a weeping for the nations, for the lost. I wept and ate and picked and prayed... and wept as I walked along. (Luckily this portion of my journey was a lonely one, not a soul around but me and my dog!)

Some of the berries, picked and eaten had "names" attached... those I love in my family that don't know the deep, deep love of Jesus. Some of the berries were picked with a someone in mind and wept over. Some of those berries had no name... they were a nation, a people, a lost and hungry soul in deep need of God's love.

I picked... and ate... and prayed and cried... asking God to harvest His children, to pluck them out of darkness, and to enjoy His kids as I enjoyed these berries. Harvest, I wept! Your harvest, I cried. Bring in Your harvest, Lord Jesus... they belong to you.

It was glorious and freeing... and sweet... and painful... and confusing... and glorious.

So, I walked yesterday another short jaunt on this journey of tears. And, I say to my Father today... I will be used by You however You want! Cry through me. Weep with my tears! I give myself to You completely without holding anything back! Please keep teaching me to pray.

Talkin' like a foolish woman!

"You are talking like a foolish woman. Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?"

Strange as it may sound, I am internally much more comfortable with suffering than with blessing. Not that I like to suffer. But, in my soul somewhere that "feels" better, more holy, more okay.

My life is really good. I have so much. Truly, I am over-blessed. I have a sweet relationship with Jesus, an amazing husband, two healthy children, good friends, a beautiful home... and on and on and on goes the list. Blessings in abundance. Am I the only one that struggles with this? Sometimes in raw moments I find myself almost apologizing for the blessings and good things. In quiet moments, I sometimes wonder if God can love me "even though" I am not suffering for Him. No, okay, I never really wonder that exactly--- that would be wrong, on-its-head, theology. But, my wonderings do get a bit close to that place of questioning God's okay-ness with the happiness in my life. Is He okay with this?

I think all my life I believed I would suffer. I remember telling a mentor once about this thought process and she was shocked, "Why would you think that? Why would you say that?" That was the first time I questioned the assumption of suffering I had always made.

I think I have prepared, waited for, and relied on the fact that one day I would suffer,... big suffering. And, I just haven't. Has life been perfect for me? No. I have had my share of hurt and some suffering... but, I guess I have always assumed that martyrdom or death of a close loved one was to be my lot.

Now, today, my boundary lines fall in very pleasant places. My lot is sweet. (Psalm 16:6)

I came home yesterday after a peaceful, beautiful, spirit-filling prayer walk in the fields. BLESSING! As I came in the door, I felt the tinge of guilt that sometimes plagues me--- too much blessing!! Something isn't right if it is good... not enough suffering... Silly thoughts like this came poking at my mind. As a response to the poking, roaming thoughts, I began to sing a familiar song, "Blessed be Your Name". I sang it loud and clear with emphasis on the "when the sun is shining down on me. When the world's all that it should be... Blessed be your Name!". I was speaking to my soul with this song. 'Streams of abundance flow' right now in my life. He gives and takes away. He gives. Blessed be the Name of the Lord.

My heart tends toward worship when I hear the "take away" part. I am okay with that. At least in theory I am okay with that... But, where is the worship with the "He gives" part? Well, I chose worship yesterday! Out loud, off-key worship for the blessings!

In Philippians 4, Paul talks about contentment in both need and plenty. He says he knows the secret to this kind of contentment... Jesus. Jesus is the secret to being content in all circumstances. My Jesus' has the strength I need to be content in both hunger and when I am well fed.

In this very "fat" time, too, Jesus' strength can help me find contentment.

Job 2 says, "You are talking like a foolish woman. Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?"

God says to my heart today, "Stephanie, you are talking like a foolish woman. Shall you accept bad from God, and not good?"

Ash in the handbag

When the Israelites gave the offering... the dove, the grain, the sheep... to the priest to be offered, they watched it burn and then left the Temple. They didn't take it with them--- no ashes were carried away in their handbag! They offered a sacrifice of praise to the Lord and left it there. They left assured that their sins were forgiven, or that their guilt was taken by the "guilt offering". The "thank offering" given to us in the Old Testament was to be given in the same manner. They were to offer a sacrifice of "thanks" from a grateful heart.


Today when I offer my thanksgiving, I sometimes find myself hesitating and wanting to take it back. Right afterward, I want to grab a scoop and take some of the ashes back "home" with me. I don't think I am alone in this. What are we doing? We want to store it up somewhere for the next time. Just in case we aren't thankful tomorrow, we won't be ashamed of our offering today.

What do I mean? I mean, after fervently praying on Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday for my daughter to be healed of her fever... she was well on Tuesday afternoon. In fact, she was significantly better. I was grateful when I realized it. A "thank offering" of sorts was rising up in my heart. Thank you, Lord, I said. But, there was part of me that hesitated and questioned... was this just a coincidence, not a direct answer to my prayer? And another part of me doubted... well,... she could spike another ridiculously high fever tonight. And then, what?, my thanksgiving would have been wasted? Silly? Premature? Both questions and doubts diminished my ability to truly and freely offer thanksgiving to the Lord. At least, it dampened my ability to thank Him and leave my thanks on the altar. It is as if I want to offer my thanks and then grab it back just in case I am not thankful tomorrow--- say she does spike a fever, then I haven't offered my thanks in vain.

I have a dear sister who has a chronically ill son. What does healing look like for her? for him? I have watched her offer her thanks to God in the dark and in the moments of light. This has ministered to me more significantly than most sermons or books--- she has lived out faith in looking at each gift of health (mild or significant) as an opportunity for praise. Was he able to attend a full day of school today? ...yes?... A thank offering to the Lord!! Is he learning to write his name and to read those simple words this week... yes? ...A thank offering to the Lord!! Did he sleep through the night uninterrupted?... yes?!.. a thank offering to the Lord! She can't look too far ahead into tomorrow--- it may diminish any of her today-thanks, and that would be tragic for her heart and dishonoring the today-gifts from her Father.

Each day has enough trouble of its own... each day also has enough blessings of its own. Let us thank God for each day, each breath, and every blessing (our daily bread). Let's offer our "thank offering" for today and not worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow has enough worry of its own. And, tomorrow will have enough praise of its own if we are looking for it! Might we offer our genuine sacrifice of thanks to the Lord and then leave it there, watch it burn and go about our day not carrying ashes in our handbag.

Father teach us to see your daily blessings! Teach me to be thankful for all good things and even all hard things, because you are good! Teach me to offer my gifts of thanks and to walk away, leaving it as a sweet aroma to you.

Fit for a King

A gift fit for a king.

We were handed a scrap piece of paper and a pen. The assignment given was to write down one item we would be willing to give. We were to write it and place the paper into the gift box as a present for Jesus. This item was to be important to us, of high value. This item was to be a gift fit for a king, fit for the King, to be exact. We had just read and discussed the story of the Magi. They had searched and searched. They had come prepared expecting to find the King and to give Him gifts of great worth. They worshipped and gave Him valuable gifts.

As we sang Christmas songs, each one in the room took time to think a moment. At differing speeds, hands began to scribble on the scrap. We weren't being asked to "really" give this item away; but, we were asked to think of it as if it were real. What would you bring to this King as you bowed before him in worship?

Midway through the second song, my 7 year old son motioned quietly for my attention. When I caught his eye, he held up his piece of paper to show me what he had written. He was careful to show only me. In clear writing was one word. It said "Rocky". My heart was filled and a smile was instant. Rocky. My son wanted to give Jesus his Rocky.

Sweet Rocky is a raccoon that has gone everywhere with us. He is a very well loved stuffed toy that has seen his better day--- too much love, I think! This dear toy has traveled on many airplanes, taxis and trains. He has slept with my son in the many, many beds. He has ventured from country to country and from State to State. Rocky the raccoon has been lost and he has been searched for ...and Rocky has been found. This animal has been with my son through most of his life and he truly loves Rocky. Rocky is highly valued.

In bold letters his paper said "Rocky".

I was moved by my son's surrender of this deeply loved friend. My heart was full and my eyes as well. I believe that the Lord smiled tonight. I believe that my Father in heaven was moved and singing over this beautiful gift. I believe that His heart filled and He was truly worshipped with this act of simple scribble on a piece of paper. I believe that Jesus would see this as fit for Him, the King.

Rocky the raccoon, a gift fit for the King.

Wind Fall Rot

I have never had a fruit tree in my yard. I have never cared for a garden or grown anything really significant. So, all this is new for me. My life here includes apples. My "new normal" (as my teammate calls it) includes many apples.

Our apple tree produces wonderful cooking apples. You must add a good amount of sugar... but an apple pie, apple bread and applesauce are only a "chop" and bake away with the apples from our tree. I hadn't picked the apples for a while now. This morning while washing dishes and looking out the window I quickly realized that it was time. Plump apples dotted the tree's limbs. So between loads of laundry I made my way out to pick and decided today it would be applesauce (the easiest by far!).

As I approached the tree it was obvious that many apples had fallen from the tree these past weeks ("windfall" apples they call it here). These once fat, juicy green apples had begun to rot on the ground. Disgusting. Black and brown. Covered in a variety of bugs. Many were rotting at the foot of my tree. So, in my very city-girl-way, I found myself a plastic bag to cover my hand and picked up the rotting apples.

Fruit unused. Fruit unpicked, rotting and unusable. Stinky fruit, really. I wonder... Is this what it is as a Christian to be blessed and not use the blessing for others? Is this being given much and not giving back. Is this what it is to have the fruit of the Spirit... to have been given fullness of joy, love, peace, patience and kindness and yet let it fall to the ground by the wind and rot from neglect. We have been given so much. My wealth and time are just a small part of all God has given me--- our fruit. I have, in Christ, love in abundance and fullness of joy. It can grow and be used for good. I have been given such blessing and I must allow the fruit of God in me to be used for good, tasty, right smelling things!

Do I, instead, let Christ's gifts fall off and rot? Unused. I wonder if we neglect giving out, using our gifts, practicing His love, His patience and grace toward others are we like these windfall apples? Once beautiful, ready for picking, and now rotten on the ground.

I want to watch my tree more often. I want to look for the fruit and pick them when they are ready, ripe and plump. I want to use the blessings of this tree to bless others. I have much to learn about caring for this garden of mine.

Lord, may I be used by You today. Use my gifts, Your Spirit in me, all You have blessed me with to be a blessing to others. For your Glory!