when you're tired of just surviving

Survival mode.

Everybody has experienced it at one point or another.

For some, it's a season that comes and goes.

For some, it's every day.

Lately, it's felt like every day for me.  It's like I'm trying to fit everything in.

I wake up, and the rush begins.  Every moment spent just trying to get through the day.  Just trying to make it to evening.  Just.  Trying.  To.  Make.  It.  Through.

Survival mode.  I know it all too well.  I sit here and feel sorry for myself. 

I want to thrive!  I'm tired of merely making it through the day.  I want to MAKE each day something special.

I sag as I continue my survival charade, this dance that I know the steps all too well.

Until it hits me.

Yes, it's all survival mode.

Because my very survival is hinged on the grace found in every moment.

My year's word comes to mind: breathe.  As I realize, YES--this is survival mode.  But every day is for everyone else is, too.  It's how I choose to SEE.  

As I fold laundry a few minutes before I need to rush out the door, my shoulders sag.  If only I could get this done faster!  Have time to do better things!

And I forget the ordinance of God.  That my very survival depends upon His grace--and every moment that I spend breathing His grace is ordained by Him.  I forget that He ordained that I would be folding that laundry.  That I would run out the door in those few moments.  That I would spend all that time in the car driving.  That I would go work a few hour or a long hour shift.  That I would have to eat a PB&J on my dinner break, because I didn't have time to make anything else. 

And my perspective begins to change, as I ponder.  

And I begin to SEE... from God's perspective, He's given me all I need to thrive!  

From my human perspective, I have a hard time grasping...because it's not what I think I need to thrive.  I want more.  Of course!  More.

But He whispers gently, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness."

He always gives me enough to thrive. He is enough.  Even when it looks like I'm in survival mode, it's what He has given me to thrive, what am I going to do with it?  How am I going to make the most of this grace that He has afforded me?

While I fold, I can pray and sing.

When I'm sitting in the car, driving, I can listen to sermons.

I can be God's love to everyone that I meet on my shift, short or long.

I happen to love PB&Js.

Survival mode is enough to thrive.   His grace is sufficient for me.

Grace is enough.

here with us

It's still a mystery to me
That the hands of God could be so small
How tiny fingers reaching in the night
Were the very hands that measured the sky

~Here with Us, Joy Williams

This song plays in my head all throughout the year.  Reminding me, it was not just a baby born that night.  It was not even just a baby with special favor granted over him.  It wasn't even just a baby with prophetic gifts or destined to be a great teacher.

This baby was God.

The God before whom Isaiah fell, covering his eyes from the blinding light and cried out, "Woe is me!  I am a man of unclean lips!"

The God that placed Moses in the cleft of the rock, so that he saw God's backside--and his face glowed so much so that the people begged him to cover it up.

The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  The God that brought Moses and the children of Israel out of Egypt.  

The God that slew thousands of Egyptian firstborn.  The God that struck Uzzah dead for disobedience.  The God that killed the priests that disrespectfully offered strange fire.

The God that strengthened a shepherd boy to kill a giant with a stone and a sling. The God that enabled Gideon's few hundred to wipe out thousands.  

You don't mess with this God.

And yet, for the sake of love, He allowed Himself to be born.

He could have come in all His glory, as a King--and we would have been forced to honor Him!  He could have come and been given all the glory that He so muchly deserves from His own creation--us.

But He came and was born.  A helpless, weak, tiny baby.  Born to one of the poorest of the poor.  In the depths of the lowest of the low...in the midst of animals, dirt, grime.  He was placed in a feeding trough, when He is accustomed to a shining, white, glorious throne.  

But He chose for it to be that way.

He wanted to be here with us.

...how how He loves us...

priorities

Out come the to-do lists.  Papers, sticky notes, pens, spirals, everywhere... lists, reminders, checkboxes.  All in the name of "getting stuff done".

I'm a get-er-done kinda gal.  I like to plow through things.  I like to check things off.  The feeling of accomplishment is intoxicating to me.

All too often though, I find my work or my current "plan" being sabotaged by this crazy little thing called....life.  My lists end up unfinished.  Blog posts sit in the draft folder, novels remain unwritten, aspirations gather dust.  Responsibilities take over dreams, and I find myself merely surviving.

Life gets in the way of my ambitions, and I crumble.  Why?

I find my security in the stuff I "get done".  I feel like if I do "great things for God" that I'm doing what I should be doing, right?  And yet, when my plans are frustrated, why do I feel like reacting in an unChristian manner, if my motivations were correct?

In the midst of the chaos, the craziness of life, I have learned one of the most beautiful secrets: Jesus comes first.  I know, okay...that sounds cliche.  But it's truth.

God requires first and foremost of me to be completely in love with Him.  Everything else that "gets done" is secondary.

In fact, in the book of Micah, we are released from the bonds that have so tightly gripped man for centuries, "He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?" (Micah 6:8, emphasis added)

I love the last part.  Jesus wants me to walk with Him.  WITH Him!  Not where He can watch me from heaven, stumbling around, trying to figure it all out for myself.  No, He's standing here on the road with me; all He wants is that I take His hand and let Him walk with me, leading me.

Before I can do anything great, my hand needs to be secure in His.  Before I can tackle my "to-do's", my heart needs time at the cross.  Because what if those things on my list aren't what He has in store for me today?  What if He has a bigger idea as to how He wants to use me in His kingdom?

I heard Leslie Ludy at a conference one time say that the best "time management plan" happens when we take time to pray.

It's hard for me to stop and take time, especially if I accidentally miss my alarm for the morning, or I have especially a lot on my plate for the day.  It's tough for me to slow down!  It's counter intuitive to stop and be still when you're trying to be efficient, right?

But then, Jesus did promise,

"But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."

(Matthew 6:33)

Time for me to rearrange my priorities...a sticky note that just says "Jesus" might be a good start. 

waiting room

One of my favorite albums is Jonny Diaz's Beautiful You.

On this album he has a song called Waiting Room.  I remember listening to the album, paying the song no particular heed, until I came upon a particularly rough season, and the lyrics just played in my head...over and over.

Here in this waiting room
Yearning for You to say go.
Though I'm convinced that a yes would be best,
But this time You're telling me no.

It's not that I don't have an answer.
It's just not the one that I'd like
Through all this time, I know I must keep in mind
That you're always wiser than I

'Cause You have a much better purpose
You have a far greater plan
You have a bigger perspective
'Cause You hold this world in Your hands...

I remember a couple years ago, my mom was early pregnancy and encountering the signs of miscarriage.  I remember pleading with God, begging for the tiny life of my little brother or sister.  I remember crying hard, feeling the ache in the pit of my stomach...Don't take him away, Lord.

When that miracle comes cause Your answer is yes
I will praise you for all of my days
But when Your wisdom declares that a no is best
I will praise You just the same

He took him home.  But I still praise Him.  I cannot describe the feeling, how can it hurt so badly to lose someone that you've never even met?

But God has continued to use this song to minister to my heart.  Because I'll always be waiting on something.  There will always be something that requires trust.  It wouldn't be faith if there was no risk of pain.

He has taught me the unexplainable feeling of the peace that surpasses all understanding in the midst of overwhelming ache.  The intoxicating joy, the miraculous serenity that comes from having an unshakable foundation in the sovereign reign of the King of the universe, that so happens to be my Father.

Because Jesus is Lord, I know that when I wait, I wait upon Him that can make mountains move.

I know that He knows the end.  And if He loved me enough to die the most excruciating death, does He not love me still?  Is His love not strong enough to cherish me, to give me the absolute best?

Even when it means pain.  Even when it means I don't understand.

He always has a better plan.

"Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord."  

 ~Psalm 27:14

in His lap

Life has been...normal, I guess.  Just not the normal that I expected.  Which, I suppose is normal...for life to be unexpected.  Unpredictable.  Crazy.  Too fast.  Unplanned.  Normal.

Things have been happening too fast, too much at one time.  Relationships have been sticky, my family has been suffering illness, we recently had to put down our dog of 12 years, we went on a trip a couple of weeks ago and came back with the flu, I felt called to leave a job very near to my heart, I found out about the death of a childhood friend... And if this doesn't sound crazy enough, that isn't all--I have actually left out a lot for privacy reasons, but I'm pretty sure this gives you a pretty good idea.

Yep, normal couple of weeks. Not really.  I mean, my life is usually crazy, but not this crazy.

Being that I had the flu a week ago, I also had a conference scheduled that I was supposed to work at this past weekend.  Over those 3-4 days, I did everything I could to cheat the illness.  I downed the garlic, vitamin C, echinacea, I did EVERYTHING!  I wanted to do this conference!  I had been scheduled to do it, and looking forward to it for MONTHS!

The day before I was supposed to leave, I was up and around, testing my body's strength.  On my feet all day doing laundry, everything.  I can DO this!  I was GOING.  That night I went to bed.  I had to get up at 3am to leave for my 5:15am flight.  But I couldn't sleep.  And I wasn't feeling well.  1:45am came, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to do this.  I was pushing myself too hard, and it could end up detrimental to my body, and those working with me at the conference if they had to pick up my pieces while I was sick away from home.  I sent an email admitting my weakness, and that I wasn't going to be able to make it.

So great was my disappointment, I felt terrible.  I slept practically all day.  My body was exhausted from my pushing...and my spirit was sad, unmotivated.

Even now, I feel the effects of the past couple of weeks weighing heavily.  Just everything, making my body emotionally and physically exhausted.

These are the times that Jesus has taught me that awkward, ironic feeling of resting in Him.

It's a strange feeling.  It's like I still feel all the chaos.  I feel the hurt.  I feel the disappointment.  I feel the frustration.  I still feel everything.  But there's something else.

I feel in the very deep recesses of my soul His rest. 

It's like a young child with a scraped up knee coming and crawling into the lap of a parent.  The child will still bleed.  Still hurt.  But she feels the arms of her parent around her and knows she's going to be okay.

It's the same with Jesus.  His rest does not mean that I won't feel pain. Hurt.  Disappointment.  Sadness.  It doesn't mean that I'll be immune to chaos.  Stress.  Strain.

But He does promise that He won't ever leave me, or forsake me.  He does promise me peace in the midst of it all.  He does promise abundant life.  He does promise Himself.  Rest.  Peace.

That strange yet beautiful feeling that He's got this.

Am I willing to let go of what I think I can control long enough to crawl into His lap and let Him hold me?  Let Him breath His words of peace into my heart:

Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful.

~John 14:27

is one eye enough?

Hmmm... What does it mean to have a log in your eye?

I got a little glimpse of what it feels like a couple of weeks ago.  

I woke up and felt something funny in my eye.  I reached to rub it (I know, I know...) and recoiled at my own touch.  My entire eye socket felt bruised.  It felt like it was swelling as I sat there.  I felt like I had been sucker punched in the eye.

I got out of bed and ran to the bathroom to inspect my eye in the mirror.  I was expecting to see something horrifying.  It felt terrible, at least it would be bloodshot or something.  Maybe it would be red and swollen.  But when I looked, it appeared perfectly normal.  What???

I checked closer, compared the two eyes.  Alas, there wasn't anything to speak of.  Maybe a little swelling, but could've been my imagination.

I complained to my mom.  "I feel like someone punched me out." When lamenting to my friend, she laughed, "Maybe someone did."  Ha. Ha.

It was bugging me terribly.  Focusing on things, moving my eyeball to look in different directions, it all hurt.  I held my eye shut with my palm and applied pressure.  It made it feel better. My friend suggested that it was a stye and said that it would help to apply a hot compress.  I took a washcloth doused in hot water and pressed it to my eye.  Such relief!

I went about my business, pathetically pressing a wet washcloth to the side of my face.  And I noticed something.

I never realized how important it was that both of my eyes work together.  Obviously, as I went about my business that day, I was only using one eye.

My perspective and perception was literally off.  I would reach for something and not realize that it was closer or farther away than I had estimated.  Everything looked more dim.  I had to focus harder to read (and I don't wear glasses or contacts). Everything was just generally harder to see.

I kept feeling a weird urge to say that I had a log in my eye.  Because seriously, that's what it felt like.

Then I was thinking...

The scriptures ask why we should take the speck out of our brother's eye when we have a huge log in our own. 

"Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ and behold, the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye."  ~Matthew 7:3-5

The Lord charges us to first remove the log from our own eye, then take the speck out of our brother's eye.  I witnessed first hand what it felt like to be crippled in one eye--I probably would have been barely able to see the speck, much less help someone to remove it!  

My perception would be off, I would have ended up hurting the other person because I could not see clearly enough to properly remove the speck.  In reaching toward their face, I probably would have ended up accidentally jamming their eye with the force, because my estimation was off.

When we have sin in our own lives that needs to be rooted out, it messes up the way that we see.  We may be able to see the specks in other people's eyes, the problems that they need to take care of, but until we have taken care of our own, our perspective is off--we can't see clearly enough to give them the proper care that they need to remove the speck!  We would probably end up hurting them rather than helping them.

I'm not saying that we should ignore the sin of other people, on the contrary!  Out of love for our brothers and sisters in Christ, we should be ever ready to exhort them in the truth of the Word if they are in error.  However, I believe that we should always be looking to ourselves first and foremost to make sure that we don't have any logs in our eyes before trying to remove specks from others.

And sometimes, the log isn't obvious to everyone else.  It may not be clearly seen, but that doesn't make it any less the hurtful--to ourselves and to others.  

faith walk

Yesterday I took my two youngest brothers, Peter (age 2) and Paul (age 10 months) for a little walk around our neighborhood.  It was a brisk day--in the 50s--not too bad, I buckled them into the little red wagon, covered their laps with a fluffy blanket, and we were off.

Paul was in the rear, so when I turned around while pulling the wagon behind me, I could see his little chubby face--mouth wide, his four little teeth formed into a huge grin, clapping his hands with delight at the ride.  Peter was in the front of the wagon, facing backwards, so I couldn't see his face.  I was hoping that the walk would brighten his attitude as he had just gotten up from his nap a little on the grumpy side...

I was taking a big loop around our neighborhood development, following the sidewalks along the lines of the dozens of cookie cutter houses.  About two thirds of the way around, I heard Peter's little voice with a bit of a worried tremor, "Amy, I wanna go home..." I turned and looked at him.  "Okay, Honey, we're going home. Don't worry."  "Nooooo, I want to go HOME!" he whiningly reiterated.  "This isn't the way!" He was looking at our surroundings.  Then I understood.  He didn't recognize the way that I was taking.  He didn't realize that it was a loop; he thought that I would turn around to go home.

"Don't worry, Honey.  We are going home.  Just trust me, okay, Baby?" I asked, hopeful.

He settled into the wagon, "Okay."  His voice sounded satisfied, he trusted me.

Sure enough, about five minutes later I rounded a corner.  He immediately recognized our street, "There it is!"

Of course it is, Baby, didn't I tell you so?

This reminded me of my life.

I feel like Peter.  As I go through life, I look at my surroundings, the things that I go through, the sidewalks not recognized and sometimes I get nervous.  I find myself piping up to God, "Um, Lord?  I don't get this--I don't understand this, where are we going, anyway?  I don't recognize any of this.  I mean, I thought I knew..."  He just keeps leading steady, "Don't worry.  Trust Me."  His voice soothes, and I remember our previous stops--hasn't He been faithful so far?

Then I settle into the wagon, snuggle under His blanket.  And enjoy the ride.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart

And do not lean on your own understanding.

In all your ways acknowledge Him,

And He will make your paths straight."

~Proverbs 3:5,6

coffee converts

My friend jumped into the passenger seat of my car.  She sniffed, then chuckled.  "Of course.  Amy's car would smell like coffee!"

What she actually smelling was a combination of  the new French Vanilla air freshener that I had just put up that morning, and my Starbucks Pike Place that I had grabbed on the way over.

But what she was alluding to was my (apparently) infectious and contagious love of coffee.

I don't know what it is that I like about it so much.  Wait, maybe I do.  The smell of it captivates me...my parents laugh at me when I walk into a Starbucks, close my eyes and just take a long, deep breath.  It probably has to do with the fact that pretty much every morning for my entire life has started with the smell of fresh coffee brewing.  Nostalgia?  Call it what you will.  I love it.  As for the taste.  Ha, we won't even go there.

Anyway, my friends tease me all the time about my love of coffee.  When two of my besties came over not too long ago, as they were stirring their cups of freshly brewed coffee they were remarking about how they actually never really liked coffee.

"I don't know... I never used to drink it.  Then I just started drinking it all of a sudden, and I don't know...wait..." they locked eyes, then turned and looked at me.

"What??" I shrugged.

"It's you!"

I raised an eyebrow, chuckled slightly and lifted the mug to my lips.  "I don't know what you're talking about."

Okay, so maybe I have a coffee addiction.  And maybe I talk about it too much ("it", meaning, the coffee itself).

But you know, I was thinking.  I so easily converted my friends over to coffee drinking.  How?

I shared my excitement.  I showed them the beauty of it.  The smells, the tastes, the different ways to fix it.

What if I put this same energy into telling others about Jesus?  Hmm.  Convicting thought.

I'm so passionate about something as carnal as coffee... why can't I have that same passion in God's love?

The beauty of it; the smell of it, the sights of it, the feel of it, the redemption in it.  The eternal value of it!

May my love and passion for Jesus be manifest in such a way that others will be drawn to Him; that they will smell His aroma on me, and desire to have Him too.  They will see His smile on my face, and yearn for His joy.  They will hear His heart beating through my voice, and desperately seek to find the center.

May my addiction to Jesus be contagious!

"But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and manifests through us the sweet aroma of the knowledge of Him in every place."  ~2 Corinthians 2:14

for me, too

I sit, counting gifts, in the quiet.  Steaming cup of morning coffee by my side, the dawn's sunbeams beginning to peek in the back windows.

#96.  warm coffee on a brisk morning

#97. pretty pink pen

#98. dog sleeping peacefully

#99. dear friends

...and I stop.  I'm at 100 already?  I mean, I'll admit, I did start this thing months ago, but wasn't really being faithful until the beginning of this year...

What should I write for my 100th gift?  Shouldn't it be something special, something wonderfully profound?

I ponder, and remember something.

...and I write:

#100. grace

Okay, okay, I admit--it's beautifully Christianese isn't it?  :-)

Let me explain.

I find that I have a hard time remembering that grace applies to me too.  I mean, I talk about it all the time.  I preach it from the rooftops, I proclaim its promises upon the weary and broken...but I seem to miss it for myself.  

I realized this when chatting online with a friend the other night.  I was telling her about a situation in which I was fearful of the outcome because of some past mistakes that I had made.  I could almost feel her warm smile and arm around me when she said, "Ok. Let's move past that. We all make mistakes and God is in the business of redemption."

It sounds like the same old, same old.  But to me at that moment, it was like a flashbulb moment.

The words of a sermon by Paul Washer that I had been listening to not too long ago came to mind:

"How dare you think that your sin has more power than the blood of Jesus Christ? How dare you think that your puny disobedience is stronger than His obedience? 

You are dressed. You are dressed proper. You could go to a wedding at this very moment in the very court of God because He dressed you. And you are attractive to Him because He made you attractive to Him by His own work and if He hadn’t done it you would have never got there. 

It is all about Him." 

(Click HERE to listen to the full sermon or read the transcript--it's fantastic, don't miss it!)

I believed that His blood was enough for my sin in general, but for some reason, when it came to the everyday stupid mistakes that I made, it felt like I had to manage those on my own.  Pay for the consequences, deal with it.

Wrong.

God cares about everything.  Jesus' blood covers everything.  He is strong enough to overcome all.

He is powerful enough to redeem even me and my hopeless, everyday mistakes, distresses and grievances.  He is strong enough to daily cleanse me, to hourly redeem me, to forgive me and love me, moment by moment.

Do we deal with consequences from our actions and mistakes?  Yes.  

But the glorious promise that we have is that we never have to go at it alone, and that if we surrender ourselves to Him, He can take our weakest points and turn them into opportunities for His glory.

"And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose."  

~Romans 8:28

"...and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” 

~Matthew 28:20b

#100. remembering that grace is for me, too 

i don't keep a diary

Earlier today in the car as I was driving to a meeting I was rocking and singing to an old album--BarlowGirl's Another Journal Entry--a piece quite instrumental in my spiritual walk when I was about 12 years old.  (The poor people in the cars around me...probably thought I was crazy.) Songs like I Need You to Love Me, Never Alone, 5 Minutes of Fame brought me back 8 years (has it really been that long??).

To the days that we first moved down south.  To the days that I was struggling to find my place in life. To the days that my grandma had lung cancer, and our schedule was crazy around my mom helping take care of her. To the days that I was searching.  To the days I was questioning.  Fighting.  Desperate.

It was during this season that a friend came to visit us for the summer.  She was about 20 at the time--8 years older than me.  I don't remember us discussing very many spiritual things that summer, but I do remember one particular conversation that impacted me for the rest of my life; everyday thereafter.  At that time, I was extremely sheepish opening up to anyone about anything--but I remember feeling so desperate, so stuck in my spiritual walk, I shared it with my older friend.

"Well, have you tried journaling?"  she asked.

I laughed slightly, I never could stand writing out the events of the day.  It was boring to me.  I remember at the age of 7 or 8, since I loved to write, my mom suggested that I keep a diary.  I didn't want to.  I did sometimes, I had a bunch of started journals, diaries, and notebooks, but I could never stick with it.

"No, I could never stick with that...writing about my day isn't really my thing..."  I explained my history with diaries.

She shook her head.  "Eh, I never went for diaries either..."  She laughed.  "Actually, when I say journaling, I mean like writing letters to God, just in a journal--like instead of writing out the day's events, write your prayers down."

I thought for a moment.  That had never occurred to me.

So I tried it.  And couldn't stop.

(Come on, you know you love my pink rhinestone-studded pen ;-))

It was then that I realized why the songs from Another Journal Entry touched me the way that they did.  The reason that they spoke so deeply to my questioning, yearning, preteen heart--because they were just that: words from another girl's journal, another girl's cries to God.

Journaling gave me a place to pour out my heart.  To shape these feelings of havoc into swirls of ink etched to make words.  And a way to go back and see the journey...

I thank my dear friend for that moment.  I don't think she has any idea the impact that she made, just by simply giving me that small piece of advice.  I have since finished several journals and have found such peace and enjoyment in my time of writing out my thoughts to God.  I especially love going back and reading my entries and seeing the love story played out; the ups, the downs, the valley moments, the ones on the mountain top.  

Scribbles on the tear stained, bent up pages remind me of God's hand, ever present--even when I don't feel it.

I cried out with no reply

And I can't feel You by my side

So I'll hold tight to what I know

You're here and I'm never alone

~Never Alone, by BarlowGirl

(acoustic version on Another Journal Entry)

joy dare: three graces from people you love

(Yes, it's late.  Apologies for the poor quality-unedited photos! :-))

Paul Michael Victor, peacefully slumbering on me

Around last summer, I was experiencing a pretty stressful season.  To force myself to stop and slow down, I would hold Paul on the porch swing when he would get fussy and rock and rock.  I couldn't have my laptop open, I couldn't type emails, update spreadsheets, edit text, etc.  I was forced to just quietly rock the swing, ponder and pray.  The feeling of a sweet little baby falling asleep on you is exhilarating; I quickly grew addicted to my "therapy"...even to this day :-)

a candle, birthday present from my dear friend Elise

A spicy, rich scent--I lit it today on the window sill while doing dishes.

What a blessing it is to have friends that know me...and my silly obsessions with scents ;-)

my ring, reminder of love and grace

For my thirteenth birthday my mom and dad gave me this beautifully simple ring as a gift.  A pink opal in the shape of a heart, flanked on each side by a pair of diamonds.  A symbol of my surrendering my heart to Jesus, and entrusting it to my parents for protection until the day that I give it away to my husband.  
Some call it a "Purity Ring" or even a "Promise Ring"--I've never really seen my ring in those titles.  They seem too common for something that means so much to me.  Something that daily reminds me of undeserving grace and unconditional love.  You see, the year before I turned thirteen I went through a very tough time.  A time of questioning, a time of rebellion.  I disrespected my parents, I lashed out at God.  
It was that year that I repented, and rededicated my life to Jesus, fully surrendering myself to Him.  It was then that I was gifted with this token.  I remember receiving it--the first thought that came to my mind was that it was so beautiful; I did not know how any other ring could compare--not even my wedding ring in the future!  Then I felt it.  The kiss of grace.  The rush of love.

I was His.

joy dare: a gift old, new, blue

I smiled when I saw this as the random verse of the day on my phone's Bible widget:

a gift old...

Earlier, after eagerly cutting out the fabric for some skirts this afternoon I ran some fabric through one of our nicer sewing machines.  I was horrified when what was supposed to be gentle lines turned out a mangled mess!  So, at my sister's suggestion, I pulled out my old machine.  The basic beginner's machine.  My birthday present from when I turned 11.  At 9 years old, it thrilled me that it worked...beautifully.

 new...

My dear sister Emma purchased a beautiful silver Starbucks mug for my birthday a couple of weeks ago.  To my utter horror the paint began to chip after a few uses!  So we returned it, but unfortunately, they did not have any of the same style--so I picked this one out.

I love the rustic yet elegant style; thank you, Emma darlin'!  :-)

blue...

God's words...His breath, encapsulated into a language that we could understand.

Mine, encased in blue.

How grateful I am for those that gave their lives that we might be able to read God's Word in our own language!  How precious is the blood that is spilt by those whose passion extends beyond the grave.

(My engraving is wearing off--there used to be an "M" there after my first name!)

 (Okay, so I'm a messy underliner ;-) )

joy dare: three gifts heard

I print the calender sheets and tape them up on the fridge.  A schedule for the hunt--the list of treasures to be found everyday.  The pieces of joy to be found in everyday life.  These treasures, waiting to be discovered.

I've decided to take the Joy Dare.  

You all know how much I adore Ann Voskamp's work--her book One Thousand Gifts and her Christmas Devotional.  I had seen the calender sheets on her website before, the simple suggestions for gifts--three a day, amounting to over one thousand by the end of the year.  I had even printed one out a few months ago...but sadly, it grew neglected.

I hesitated from ever chronicling my gifts on my blog, for fear of the same thing.  That they would grow neglected.  That I wouldn't be able to keep up.  And everyone would see.

But then I realized that that very thought goes against grace--the very reason that we turn around to chronicle and thank Him for His gifts in the first place.  Undeserved grace.

So maybe I miss a day.  Or two.  Or 200.

Maybe I've only counted a few gifts since I first started...a year ago.  But that's okay.  Because of grace.

Grace extends the hand, and offers me a second chance.  So here I go.  :-)

Today's suggestion was "3 Gifts Heard".

Three gifts that bring music to my ears.

#1.

Oh, the joyful sound of carefree life!  Full of vigor, eager to laugh, thirsty to learn.

(Oh, yeah.  And because I'm like that, I feel the need to explain the necklace on my little brother, lol.  It's actually made of amber--like a sap, when warm against the skin letting off oils that help ease the pain of teething.  Purely function, not style, haha!)

#2.

#3.

I hear him in the hall...he grunts as he proudly lifts the rocking horse...all by himself.  It's in the way of his Duplos.  He takes care of it.  Like a man.  

What were your "Three Gifts Heard" today?

one word

One word.  The thought baffles me.

Verbosity is my weakness (but you all knew that already).

I heard the challenge on the radio a couple of days ago.  Instead of writing out a list of goals and achievements; resolutions for the year, to choose one word.

One word to hold onto.  One word to inspire.  One word.  Only one.

So I started thinking.  I can do this, right?  Just one word, pshaw--that should be easy...right?

Ahem.  Until you start trying to narrow it down.

Words filled my mind.

Beloved?

Surrender?

Faith?

Purpose?

Trust?

Open?

All beautiful words...but they felt redundant to me.  Sure, I could use them.  But they didn't feel right.  So I prayed about it, and kept thinking and searching.  Then I saw it.

A beautiful word.  So simple.  Mundane, boring even.  But the thoughts that filled my mind when I read it whispered, "This is it."

Walk

He has told you, O man, what is good;

And what does the Lord require of you

But to do justice, to love kindness,

And to walk humbly with your God?

~Micah 6:8

To place one foot in front of the other.

To get somewhere.

Swift or slow, to progress.

Steady or shaking, intrepid or heart breaking.

To hold His hand and follow Him.

To take each step.  With Him.

"Enoch walked with God; and he was not, for God took him." 

~Genesis 5:24

"I will also walk among you and be your God, and you shall be My people." 

~Leviticus 26:12

"You shall teach them diligently to your sons and shall talk of them when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way and when you lie down and when you rise up." 

~Deuteronomy 6:7

"When His lamp shone over my head, And by His light I walked through darkness;"  

~Job 29:3

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me." 

~Psalm  23:4

"For Your lovingkindness is before my eyes, And I have walked in Your truth."  

~Psalm 26:3

"Teach me Your way, O Lord; I will walk in Your truth; Unite my heart to fear Your name."  

~Psalm 86:11

"for you were formerly darkness, but now you are Light in the Lord; walk as children of Light"  

~Ephesians 5:8

"Therefore as you have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him,"  

~Colossians 2:6

"so that you would walk in a manner worthy of the God who calls you into His own kingdom and glory."  

~1 Thessalonians 2:12

"but if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin."  

~1 John 1:7

"the one who says he abides in Him ought himself to walk in the same manner as He walked."

~1 John 2:6

"And the city has no need of the sun or of the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God has illumined it, and its lamp is the Lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it. In the daytime (for there will be no night there) its gates will never be closed;"

~Revelation 21:23-25

What do you think of this challenge--one word for the year?  

What would be a word that you would choose?

Be blessed my dear readers; Happy New Year!

time is short

We near the final 24 hours of this, the year of 2013.

It's a melancholy feeling; exciting, yet a reminder of the shortness of our days.  Has another year really come and gone already?

I was reminded of the shortness of life yesterday. I was visiting with some friends, the Saint family-- the grandson of missionary, Nate Saint, Jesse Saint was telling me about his sister, Stephanie.  She was 20 years and 20 days old--twelve days older than I am today--when she died suddenly of a Cerebral hemorrhage.  No warning.  Jesse said that she had just come home from a trip the day before, feeling perfectly healthy and full of life.  The next day she was dead.

It puts things into perspective.  Any day could be our last.

Sometimes it's hard for us as young people to grasp it.  We feel like we still have our whole lifetimes ahead of us.  We still have yet to get married, have kids, watch them grow up...we have years ahead of us...right?

"Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away."  ~James 4:14

So what am I going to do with the remainder of my days?  Or hours?  How does one make sure that they can stand before the Father at the end and hear, "Well done..."?

Sometimes I measure the effectiveness of my life in the things I "do".  If I can do "great things for God"--build schools and hospitals (some of you may or may not get this reference, ha!), sacrifice myself as a missionary, die a martyr; if I can motivate others to great things, if I can speak with the tongues of men and of angels, if I can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, if I have faith that can move mountains...

I look back on the year at my "accomplishments".  So I sold a few books at conferences.  So I taught a writing class.  So I acted in a play.  So I coordinated an event....but do I know Jesus better than I did the year before?

What I do in an of myself is worthless.  No matter how much zeal I put into it.  No matter how "pure" my motives.  It is worth nothing apart from Christ.

What Jesus did is priceless.

Paul wrote this in his letter to the Philippians (chapter 3):

"...although I myself might have confidence even in the flesh. If anyone else has a mind to put confidence in the flesh, I far more: circumcised the eighth day, of the nation of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the Law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to the righteousness which is in the Law, found blameless."

Paul had everything going for him.  I'll bet his yearly Christmas letter was immaculate; lengthy with all of his amazing accomplishments! (Sorry, Momma--I had to throw that one out there :P) In the world's eyes he had it all; fame, fortune, passion, zeal for God.  He was one of those guys that mothers probably pointed out to their kids, encouraging them to grow up and be like him.

But he later realized that it was all worthless.

"But whatever things were gain to me, those things I have counted as loss for the sake of Christ. More than that, I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ, and may be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own derived from the Law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which comes from God on the basis of faith, that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death; in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead."

Here, Paul lists his great accomplishments--his reasons that he might boast in the world's eyes.  Then he discounts it all.  He throws it all away, burns it.  It's worthless compared to that which he now desires.

Righteousness in Jesus.

Knowing Jesus.

His resurrection.

His sufferings.

Dying with Him, so that he might live.  Really live.

But then, it comes to my favorite part:

"Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."

First of all, it does not appear that Paul buys into to the popular idea of being completely unshakable, 100% positive, so-confident-that-nothing-can-get-in-the-way of one's salvation (the so-called "freedom in Christ" that allows Christians to continue their lives as they were prior to their salvation--but because they "said the prayer" they're going to heaven no matter what).  Instead, he admits his weakness.  And even his seeming doubt of his own faith.  "I don't consider myself as 'arrived'!" he cries.  He's human too--he knows that he's worthless in and of himself.  Without Jesus, everything that he has done is worthless.  But he has a part to play too.  He knows that faith is more than just saying a prayer.  His prize and life's goal is to pursue Jesus.  Relentlessly follow, to die, to carry a cross.  Every day.

So what does he do?

He looks toward heaven.  He lifts his hands, and opens them to the sky.

He lets go of his own ambitions.  His accomplishments.  His reputation.  His self-derived righteousness.

And he runs.  He runs with open, empty hands, yearning to fill them with Jesus.

May our ambition every year be to live every day to that end; we are ready at any moment to stand before His throne.  To be emptied of our own motives, desires, accomplishments, and to be filled with Jesus.  To run, to pursue Him.  His love.  His rest.  His voice.

And finally on that day, to hear His whisper, "Well done, good and faithful servant..." 

My dear readers, time is short.

Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me."  Matthew 16:24

We don't know how much time we have left.

May we fill our years, days, hours--moments with thoughts of Him.
May the foundation of all works be love for Him.
My our every desire pour from our hearts for Him.
May He be our everything; the bedrock on which every ambition and accomplishment stands.

May our ambition be to know His love.  Our passion to obey Him.  Our prize to hear His voice on that day.

When I kneel down that day

Looking upon His holy face

I will remember with trembling

Every single moment, every memory

Who was I and where was I going

What kind of fruit were my actions growing

Staring at the pages

He’ll be staring at the pages of my life

Was my passion just to know Him

Did I really let it out and show Him

Staring at the pages

He’ll be staring at the pages of my life

~Pages, by Leeland

It's all about Jesus.

Not what you have done for Him.

But what He did, and how you thanked Him.

surrender

Can you imagine an angel appearing before you?  Blinding light, exploding presence, maybe booming voice; who could stand?

Then, can you imagine telling him, yes?

I previously posted an imagination piece about Gabriel's visitation to Mary.  I love reading and writing fictional renderings of biblical stories because it helps me to put the story that I may have read over and over into a different perspective.  It helps me to connect with the characters of history as the real people that they were; with feelings, hopes, dreams, passions just like us.

So what about Mary?

How would you have responded to the angel's message?

In Mary's day, pregnancy while being unmarried was met with stoning.  If someone noticed that she was pregnant before she was married, she would be as good as dead.

How do you think her family responded?  What about Joseph?  What about her dreams of being his wife, carrying his children, and making his home?  What if he did not believe her?  Would he condemn her?  Would he divorce her?

Mary had the odds stacked against her.  And yet...

She fell to her knees and declared herself, "...the bondslave of the Lord;"

She opened herself up to be used by God, in spite of the world.

She said yes, in spite of what they might say.

She gave her hands to receive, no matter what the cost.

She surrendered all,  and believed that God's promise would overcome.

Mary believed the angel, she believed that the seed growing in her womb was the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  She believed that He was the Promised One.  Immanuel.  God with us.  God with her.

What about you?

God has called each of us as His children to carry Himself for the world.  To surrender ourselves so that His presence might indwell within us.  To die to ourselves, that we might receive new life within.  To carry Him, to spread His presence, the news of His love, to make disciples.

Are you ready to surrender everything, to give up your dreams and desires; open yourself to carry Jesus?

Immanuel.  God with us.  God with you.

He promises to never leave you or forsake you.  He promises to give you the desires of your heart, if you will but delight in Him.  Do you trust Him?

God used a heart surrendered of a lowly teenage girl from the tiny country of Israel to bless the entire world with His Promised One.  If you surrender your heart, your passions, your desires, you follow in her footsteps; to carry Jesus and bless the world.