It's been years now since I started keeping a mental joy journal- a running list of the things in life that made me happy, that made my cup overflow, that brought my heart joy and made me thankful to be alive.
Sometimes my lists are filled with obvious things. Sometimes it is filled with little things that only my heart can really know and understand. Sometimes it is filled with random bits that would make others laugh- but to me are glimpses into the blessings of Him who cares even for the small things in life.
Whatever the case, I call these lists my Ebenezers. I only wish I'd written them down in a real and true journal more often than I have, for no matter how dark and rainy of a day it may be, a little glance through the joy journal never fails to lift my heart and encourage my spirit to keep looking.
The saying that says there's a golden side to every cloud... it is true. The sayings that say that no matter how dark the day, there's always a glimmer. It's true. The sayings that say that there's something beautiful about every day. They are true, too. We just have to look for those things in places that may be quite out of the ordinary.
I like to think of it as a training project. Life is made up so much of what we look for. And what isn't made by what we see, sometimes can be made better if we look for the best. Our minds aren't always naturally bent to look for the good and the best and the beauty. Sometimes the heart can be painfully loaded with cares and heartaches, and the eyes so filled with tears that it seems nearly impossible to see any thing beautiful or good. That's the time to start looking.
For me, it has been a lot of different things. Dewdrops sparkling on the grass. Clouds parting so I could see a lunar eclipse. A random tulip growing up out of what looked like a cinder-pile. A snatch of a song that unexpectedly spoke to my heart in a big way. It has been a smile. A note from someone who said just the right words- though they may never know it. It has been the wind on my face, blowing back my hair, and in my mind, blowing away the cares from my heart.
Whatever it is that brings a sparkle of joy into your heart, if you find that your eyes seem to see more bad than good in life, start your own journal to collect these little things. Make it your training this year to focus on beauty, on goodness, on blessings, and give your heart every reason- no matter what circumstances may bring- to be truly thankful. Not just in November, but every single day of the year.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Afraid of The Dark
I was never afraid of the dark growing up, though the sticker of the fireman on my window (a notice in case of fire that this was a room where children slept) did give me a start a time or two when the moon made it look like a shadowy shape that I couldn't account for. I always loved the evenings when I could look out at the stars and feel how very small that I really am, and how very Great my God is.
But the fact is, I was afraid of the dark growing up. Not physical darkness, but the darkness that obstructed the future.
It seemed like just about everyone knew exactly what they were doing with their life, while I was busy today with little things and responsibilities, but my future life stretched out before me like a blank and empty canvass with no clues as what the picture was suppose to be, let alone how to paint it.
I thought I knew, of course, what I'd like to do. I had dreams of studying languages, of taking a double major- Nursing and History, perhaps. I supposed I would marry someday, perhaps have my own family, and maybe go overseas as a missionary. But more than anything else, I wanted to be and to do His will- the will of My Father, and while all my hopes and dreams were good ones, they lacked just one thing: I didn't know that this was my appointed path or just the one I was choosing for myself.
I knew that He would make His will known to me. The Bible promises it, He has for others, and I knew and I believed it with all of my heart, that so He would do for me. The future seemed far away, and I almost forgot for a while that I would ever grow up, that there would ever be a time when that distant darkness would become present reality. I thought it'd be figured out long before I ever really got there, but suddenly, reality hit.
I turned 17. I had less than six months before I would finish my "homeschool career", and all of my ideas were beginning to look like goals that could never be achieved, but I put my whole heart in to preparing myself for nursing. Up until now, I had always worked hard and gotten top grades. I loved to study and enjoyed the challenge of learning something new. I was accepted into a wonderful school in the south. My family was looking to move down to the area. I had scholarships. The door seemed to be cracking open, and yet, I was strangely without rest.
I walked out of the public education building with a diploma in hand. I'd gotten excellent grades, and I had tried to fit into many different molds over the months leading up to this point, only to find in my exhaustion and in the stress, that I couldn't make myself into something I wasn't meant to be. And now, here I was, ready to take the next step, but if it wasn't nursing...if it wasn't going overseas as a missionary...if it wasn't working in the publishing field... what was it? I had no idea. And then that darkness of not knowing was very real and I felt afraid.
I spent many hours and shed many tears seeking His will, but in the quietness I could only seem to hear: "Wait".
Perhaps, it wasn't the dark so much that I was afraid of as what was in that darkness that I couldn't see. I didn't mind waiting for a reason- but not knowing why I was waiting was incredibly hard sometimes, but I had to believe that somehow, someway this season was my training ground, and looking back I know now what I repeated to myself over and over again: God's way is perfect, and so is His timing.
In the end, it was waiting in the darkness that made the sunrise so beautiful. It was not knowing that made the answers so precious. It was the lessons of trust that I learned when I was afraid of the dark that were more valuable to me than following my dream of studying History.
In the darkness, I learned to see that God's plan isn't always revealed to us as the big picture that it is. He doesn't choose to give all of us our callings in the same way. Sometimes, He just wants us to wait on Him, and to take up the little work that is right in front of us today, and not worry about what might be in the darkness that night or in the days to come.
I never became a nurse, and I never studied history or languages. I never went abroad as a missionary. They were all good plans, and God called some of my friends to those things, but He called me to be content to stay home and do small things. I might never see much of the results behind the small things. Perhaps I'll never know if the little efforts have made a difference, and sometimes the future still looks rather dark with unknowns. But I'm learning that darkness and light are both alike to Him-and to me. As long as I keep seeking to walk in that perfect way however humble it may appear, I've got nothing to be afraid of.
(Published on YLCF this week)
But the fact is, I was afraid of the dark growing up. Not physical darkness, but the darkness that obstructed the future.
It seemed like just about everyone knew exactly what they were doing with their life, while I was busy today with little things and responsibilities, but my future life stretched out before me like a blank and empty canvass with no clues as what the picture was suppose to be, let alone how to paint it.
I thought I knew, of course, what I'd like to do. I had dreams of studying languages, of taking a double major- Nursing and History, perhaps. I supposed I would marry someday, perhaps have my own family, and maybe go overseas as a missionary. But more than anything else, I wanted to be and to do His will- the will of My Father, and while all my hopes and dreams were good ones, they lacked just one thing: I didn't know that this was my appointed path or just the one I was choosing for myself.
I knew that He would make His will known to me. The Bible promises it, He has for others, and I knew and I believed it with all of my heart, that so He would do for me. The future seemed far away, and I almost forgot for a while that I would ever grow up, that there would ever be a time when that distant darkness would become present reality. I thought it'd be figured out long before I ever really got there, but suddenly, reality hit.
I turned 17. I had less than six months before I would finish my "homeschool career", and all of my ideas were beginning to look like goals that could never be achieved, but I put my whole heart in to preparing myself for nursing. Up until now, I had always worked hard and gotten top grades. I loved to study and enjoyed the challenge of learning something new. I was accepted into a wonderful school in the south. My family was looking to move down to the area. I had scholarships. The door seemed to be cracking open, and yet, I was strangely without rest.
I walked out of the public education building with a diploma in hand. I'd gotten excellent grades, and I had tried to fit into many different molds over the months leading up to this point, only to find in my exhaustion and in the stress, that I couldn't make myself into something I wasn't meant to be. And now, here I was, ready to take the next step, but if it wasn't nursing...if it wasn't going overseas as a missionary...if it wasn't working in the publishing field... what was it? I had no idea. And then that darkness of not knowing was very real and I felt afraid.
I spent many hours and shed many tears seeking His will, but in the quietness I could only seem to hear: "Wait".
Perhaps, it wasn't the dark so much that I was afraid of as what was in that darkness that I couldn't see. I didn't mind waiting for a reason- but not knowing why I was waiting was incredibly hard sometimes, but I had to believe that somehow, someway this season was my training ground, and looking back I know now what I repeated to myself over and over again: God's way is perfect, and so is His timing.
In the end, it was waiting in the darkness that made the sunrise so beautiful. It was not knowing that made the answers so precious. It was the lessons of trust that I learned when I was afraid of the dark that were more valuable to me than following my dream of studying History.
In the darkness, I learned to see that God's plan isn't always revealed to us as the big picture that it is. He doesn't choose to give all of us our callings in the same way. Sometimes, He just wants us to wait on Him, and to take up the little work that is right in front of us today, and not worry about what might be in the darkness that night or in the days to come.
I never became a nurse, and I never studied history or languages. I never went abroad as a missionary. They were all good plans, and God called some of my friends to those things, but He called me to be content to stay home and do small things. I might never see much of the results behind the small things. Perhaps I'll never know if the little efforts have made a difference, and sometimes the future still looks rather dark with unknowns. But I'm learning that darkness and light are both alike to Him-and to me. As long as I keep seeking to walk in that perfect way however humble it may appear, I've got nothing to be afraid of.
(Published on YLCF this week)
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Thorns & Roses
A dear friend shared this with me. I'm saving it here so that I can read it when the thorns prick hard and remember the blessings that each one brings. What would roses be if it were not for the thorns?
------
Sandra felt as low as the heels of her shoes when she pulled open the florist shop door, against a November gust of wind. Her life had been as sweet as a spring breeze and then, in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a "minor" automobile accident stole her joy. This was Thanksgiving week and the time she should have delivered their infant son. She grieved over their loss.
Troubles had multiplied. Her husband's company "threatened" to transfer his job to a new location. Her sister had called to say that she could not come for her long awaited holiday visit. What's worse, Sandra's friend suggested that Sandra's grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer. "She has no idea what I'm feeling," thought Sandra with a shudder. "Thanksgiving? Thankful for what?" she wondered. "For a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life, but took her child's?"
"Good afternoon, can I help you?"
Sandra was startled by the approach of the shop clerk. "I . . . I need an arrangement," stammered Sandra.
"For Thanksgiving? I'm convinced that flowers tell stories," the clerk told her. "Are you looking for something that conveys 'gratitude' this Thanksgiving?"
"Not exactly!" Sandra blurted out. "In the last five months, everything that could go wrong has gone wrong."
Sandra regretted her outburst, and was surprised when the clerk said, "I have the perfect arrangement for you."
Then the bell on the door rang, and the clerk greeted the new customer,
"Hi, Barbara, let me get your order." She excused herself and walked back to a small workroom, then quickly reappeared, carrying an arrangement of greenery, bows, and what appeared to be long-stemmed thorny roses. Except the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped: there were no flowers.
"Do you want these in a box?" asked the clerk.
Sandra watched - was this a joke? Who would want rose stems with no flowers! She waited for laughter, but neither woman laughed.
"Yes, please," Barbara replied with an appreciative smile. "You'd think after three years of getting the special, I wouldn't be so moved by its significance, but I can feel it right here, all over again," she said, as she gently tapped her chest.
Sandra stammered, "Ah, that lady just left with . . . uh . . . she left with no flowers!"
"That's right," said the clerk. "I cut off the flowers. That's the 'Special'. I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet. Barbara came into the shop three years ago, feeling much as you do today," explained the clerk. "She thought she had very little to be thankful for. She had just lost her father to cancer; the family business was failing; her son had gotten into drugs; and she was facing major surgery. That same year I had lost my husband," continued the clerk. "For the first time in my life, I had to spend the holidays alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too much debt to allow any travel."
"So what did you do?" asked Sandra.
"I learned to be thankful for thorns," answered the clerk quietly. "I've always thanked God for the good things in my life and I never questioned Him why those good things happened to me, but when the bad stuff hit, I cried out, 'Why? Why me?!' It took time for me to learn that the dark times are important to our faith! I have always enjoyed the 'flowers' of my life, but it took the thorns to show me the beauty of God's comfort! You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we're afflicted, and from His consolation we learn to comfort others."
Sandra sucked in her breath, as she thought about what her friend had tried to tell her. "I guess the truth is I don't want comfort. I've lost a baby and I'm angry with God."
Just then someone else walked in the shop.
"Hey, Phil!" the clerk greeted the balding, rotund man. "My wife sent me in to get our usual Thanksgiving arrangement . . twelve thorny, long-stemmed stems!" laughed Phil as the clerk handed him a tissue wrapped arrangement from the refrigerator.
"Those are for your wife?" asked Sandra incredulously. "Do you mind telling me why she wants a bouquet that looks like that?"
"Four years ago, my wife and I nearly divorced," Phil replied. "After forty years, we were in a real mess, but with the Lord's grace and guidance, we trudged through problem after problem, the Lord rescued our marriage. Jenny there (the clerk) told me she kept a vase of rose stems to remind her of what she had learned from "thorny" times. That was good enough for me. I took home some of those stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific "problem" and give thanks for what that problem taught us."
As Phil paid the clerk, he said to Sandra, "I highly recommend the Special!"
"I don't know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life" Sandra said to the clerk. "It's all too . . . fresh."
"Well," the clerk replied carefully, "my experience has shown me that the thorns make the roses more precious. We treasure God's providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember that it was a crown of thorns that Jesus wore so we might know His love. Don't resent the thorns."
Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks. For the first time since the accident, she loosened her grip on her resentment.
"I'll take those twelve long-stemmed thorns, please," she managed to choke out.
"I hoped you would," said the clerk gently. "I'll have them ready in a minute."
"Thank you. What do I owe you?"
"Nothing. Nothing but a promise to allow God to heal your heart. The first year's arrangement is always on me."
The clerk smiled and handed a card to Sandra. "I'll attach this card to your arrangement, but maybe you would like to read it first."
It read:
"My God, I have never thanked You for my thorns.
I have thanked You a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorns. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear; teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have climbed closer to You along the path of pain. Show me that, through my tears, the colors of Your rainbow look much more brilliant."
Praise Him for the roses; thank Him for the thorns.
"Live simply, love generously, care deeply, speak kindly, and leave the rest to God."
------
Sandra felt as low as the heels of her shoes when she pulled open the florist shop door, against a November gust of wind. Her life had been as sweet as a spring breeze and then, in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a "minor" automobile accident stole her joy. This was Thanksgiving week and the time she should have delivered their infant son. She grieved over their loss.
Troubles had multiplied. Her husband's company "threatened" to transfer his job to a new location. Her sister had called to say that she could not come for her long awaited holiday visit. What's worse, Sandra's friend suggested that Sandra's grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer. "She has no idea what I'm feeling," thought Sandra with a shudder. "Thanksgiving? Thankful for what?" she wondered. "For a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life, but took her child's?"
"Good afternoon, can I help you?"
Sandra was startled by the approach of the shop clerk. "I . . . I need an arrangement," stammered Sandra.
"For Thanksgiving? I'm convinced that flowers tell stories," the clerk told her. "Are you looking for something that conveys 'gratitude' this Thanksgiving?"
"Not exactly!" Sandra blurted out. "In the last five months, everything that could go wrong has gone wrong."
Sandra regretted her outburst, and was surprised when the clerk said, "I have the perfect arrangement for you."
Then the bell on the door rang, and the clerk greeted the new customer,
"Hi, Barbara, let me get your order." She excused herself and walked back to a small workroom, then quickly reappeared, carrying an arrangement of greenery, bows, and what appeared to be long-stemmed thorny roses. Except the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped: there were no flowers.
"Do you want these in a box?" asked the clerk.
Sandra watched - was this a joke? Who would want rose stems with no flowers! She waited for laughter, but neither woman laughed.
"Yes, please," Barbara replied with an appreciative smile. "You'd think after three years of getting the special, I wouldn't be so moved by its significance, but I can feel it right here, all over again," she said, as she gently tapped her chest.
Sandra stammered, "Ah, that lady just left with . . . uh . . . she left with no flowers!"
"That's right," said the clerk. "I cut off the flowers. That's the 'Special'. I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet. Barbara came into the shop three years ago, feeling much as you do today," explained the clerk. "She thought she had very little to be thankful for. She had just lost her father to cancer; the family business was failing; her son had gotten into drugs; and she was facing major surgery. That same year I had lost my husband," continued the clerk. "For the first time in my life, I had to spend the holidays alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too much debt to allow any travel."
"So what did you do?" asked Sandra.
"I learned to be thankful for thorns," answered the clerk quietly. "I've always thanked God for the good things in my life and I never questioned Him why those good things happened to me, but when the bad stuff hit, I cried out, 'Why? Why me?!' It took time for me to learn that the dark times are important to our faith! I have always enjoyed the 'flowers' of my life, but it took the thorns to show me the beauty of God's comfort! You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we're afflicted, and from His consolation we learn to comfort others."
Sandra sucked in her breath, as she thought about what her friend had tried to tell her. "I guess the truth is I don't want comfort. I've lost a baby and I'm angry with God."
Just then someone else walked in the shop.
"Hey, Phil!" the clerk greeted the balding, rotund man. "My wife sent me in to get our usual Thanksgiving arrangement . . twelve thorny, long-stemmed stems!" laughed Phil as the clerk handed him a tissue wrapped arrangement from the refrigerator.
"Those are for your wife?" asked Sandra incredulously. "Do you mind telling me why she wants a bouquet that looks like that?"
"Four years ago, my wife and I nearly divorced," Phil replied. "After forty years, we were in a real mess, but with the Lord's grace and guidance, we trudged through problem after problem, the Lord rescued our marriage. Jenny there (the clerk) told me she kept a vase of rose stems to remind her of what she had learned from "thorny" times. That was good enough for me. I took home some of those stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific "problem" and give thanks for what that problem taught us."
As Phil paid the clerk, he said to Sandra, "I highly recommend the Special!"
"I don't know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life" Sandra said to the clerk. "It's all too . . . fresh."
"Well," the clerk replied carefully, "my experience has shown me that the thorns make the roses more precious. We treasure God's providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember that it was a crown of thorns that Jesus wore so we might know His love. Don't resent the thorns."
Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks. For the first time since the accident, she loosened her grip on her resentment.
"I'll take those twelve long-stemmed thorns, please," she managed to choke out.
"I hoped you would," said the clerk gently. "I'll have them ready in a minute."
"Thank you. What do I owe you?"
"Nothing. Nothing but a promise to allow God to heal your heart. The first year's arrangement is always on me."
The clerk smiled and handed a card to Sandra. "I'll attach this card to your arrangement, but maybe you would like to read it first."
It read:
"My God, I have never thanked You for my thorns.
I have thanked You a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorns. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear; teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have climbed closer to You along the path of pain. Show me that, through my tears, the colors of Your rainbow look much more brilliant."
Praise Him for the roses; thank Him for the thorns.
"Live simply, love generously, care deeply, speak kindly, and leave the rest to God."
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Not Alone
There are moments when life seems to take a turn on a crazy, twisting road down a mountain side, and doesn't use the breaks. Enough is contained in one day to make it feel like one week, and yet it goes on.
It's tempting to feel a little panic. It is hard not to worry about the future when everything is blurring by and looks as unsteady as it ever has. It is hard to face some stern realities and wonder what life will look like on the other side.
We've had moments when disappointment stared us coldly in the face- when doors that seemed to open slammed shut just when we tried to walk through. We've had some pretty hard blows, some stabs in the back, but we get up again. I've had some moments when I felt afraid.
But God is God. He is still in control. He knows what He is doing, and after all, no matter what happens, what we loose, or how little we may possess in this world's eyes, we are rich in the gifts that don't depend on warm houses, friendship, or money. He has provided for our true needs- and even some wants. That is enough, and in the face of hard times, we can kneel together and thank Him for blessings- the trials, the joys, and the love.
I don't know what will be around the next bend of this somewhat crazy life-journey, but I know that no matter what it might be, we're not in it all alone.
It's tempting to feel a little panic. It is hard not to worry about the future when everything is blurring by and looks as unsteady as it ever has. It is hard to face some stern realities and wonder what life will look like on the other side.
We've had moments when disappointment stared us coldly in the face- when doors that seemed to open slammed shut just when we tried to walk through. We've had some pretty hard blows, some stabs in the back, but we get up again. I've had some moments when I felt afraid.
But God is God. He is still in control. He knows what He is doing, and after all, no matter what happens, what we loose, or how little we may possess in this world's eyes, we are rich in the gifts that don't depend on warm houses, friendship, or money. He has provided for our true needs- and even some wants. That is enough, and in the face of hard times, we can kneel together and thank Him for blessings- the trials, the joys, and the love.
I don't know what will be around the next bend of this somewhat crazy life-journey, but I know that no matter what it might be, we're not in it all alone.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Getting Ready
I write about a lot of things that are near to my heart, but there is one thing that I have not shared often enough. That sense of urgency that this old world is at the end... that wonderful thought that soon all tears will be over... that amazing awe at being one of the last generation of Christians... that joy that He is even at the door.
It is no secret that I long for Christ's return. I want to go home. More than anything I want us all to be ready. I look around me, and now more than ever before I see those signs by which we know that time is short fulfilling. This can't go on much longer.
Are we ready? I hope and pray that each one of you will make God's word your guide like you never have before. It's too late in the day to play with compromise. It is too late to be uncertain of your foundations. It is too late to hold on to any little thing. It's time to be ready.
I've got a long ways to go, but He has promised to complete the work that was begun in my life, and by His grace, I want to co operate with that work. I want to cut out the things that shouldn't be there, and let Him be my one and my only.
And more than anything else in this world, I want to see my family, my friends, all of us ready to stand the final test, ready to go home.
It is no secret that I long for Christ's return. I want to go home. More than anything I want us all to be ready. I look around me, and now more than ever before I see those signs by which we know that time is short fulfilling. This can't go on much longer.
Are we ready? I hope and pray that each one of you will make God's word your guide like you never have before. It's too late in the day to play with compromise. It is too late to be uncertain of your foundations. It is too late to hold on to any little thing. It's time to be ready.
I've got a long ways to go, but He has promised to complete the work that was begun in my life, and by His grace, I want to co operate with that work. I want to cut out the things that shouldn't be there, and let Him be my one and my only.
And more than anything else in this world, I want to see my family, my friends, all of us ready to stand the final test, ready to go home.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Lessons From A Summer Garden:Seasons Change
The air is growing cooler every night, and the best days of the garden are seemingly over for yet another season, and it makes me a little sad.
Honestly, I often feel like I have little to show for the hard work, the many hours of hand pumping water, the weeding, the tending that I spent on my little garden. I have had plenty of zucchini and more, a handful of beans, and we shall soon see if there are any potatoes or no, but all the many beautiful things that I planted and tended more or less went to feed hungry deer rather than hungry people.
This season is over, and yet in spite of the setbacks, I look fondly out at my garden, past the weeds that have overtaken it in the last few weeks when I haven't been able to keep up with them, past the deer trodden and eaten plants at my harvest, at the potential that next year holds.
Soon, I'll be pulling up my plants, tilling under some nutrients, and the garden that now, for all its troubles, looks like a thriving patch of green, will look barren, empty, cold and lifeless. The thing is, it is simply entering a season of quiet, patient rest so that there will be another harvest.
I don't think gardens ever question the seasons that pass over them, but I know that it has been easy for me to question the seasons of my heart, to be afraid of the quiet season, and to be discontent with resting and waiting when I want to grow, change and blossom. Sitting still and waiting in patience isn't easy, but it is often in the quiet season that our hearts can be prepared for even more abundant harvest when the seasons change again.
Quiet, patient, trustful waiting for springtime can make the winter purposeful, even beautiful. The winds may howl, the snow may pile deep and it may be bitterly cold and dark and outwardly unattractive, but if great things are happening in the soil of our hearts- things that are imperceptible, even, than Winter is more about strength than weakness.
I'm not quite ready for this Season in my garden to pass, but just as it is with our hearts, the Master Gardener controls all things- from physical winter, to the quiet, uncertain, season of the heart. In His foresight, He knows just what Season the heart needs to bloom more beautifully in the next.
I don't know when Winter will be here, but I want to embrace it- just as the garden embraces the snow and waits quietly while the wind blows strong.
Honestly, I often feel like I have little to show for the hard work, the many hours of hand pumping water, the weeding, the tending that I spent on my little garden. I have had plenty of zucchini and more, a handful of beans, and we shall soon see if there are any potatoes or no, but all the many beautiful things that I planted and tended more or less went to feed hungry deer rather than hungry people.
This season is over, and yet in spite of the setbacks, I look fondly out at my garden, past the weeds that have overtaken it in the last few weeks when I haven't been able to keep up with them, past the deer trodden and eaten plants at my harvest, at the potential that next year holds.
Soon, I'll be pulling up my plants, tilling under some nutrients, and the garden that now, for all its troubles, looks like a thriving patch of green, will look barren, empty, cold and lifeless. The thing is, it is simply entering a season of quiet, patient rest so that there will be another harvest.
I don't think gardens ever question the seasons that pass over them, but I know that it has been easy for me to question the seasons of my heart, to be afraid of the quiet season, and to be discontent with resting and waiting when I want to grow, change and blossom. Sitting still and waiting in patience isn't easy, but it is often in the quiet season that our hearts can be prepared for even more abundant harvest when the seasons change again.
Quiet, patient, trustful waiting for springtime can make the winter purposeful, even beautiful. The winds may howl, the snow may pile deep and it may be bitterly cold and dark and outwardly unattractive, but if great things are happening in the soil of our hearts- things that are imperceptible, even, than Winter is more about strength than weakness.
I'm not quite ready for this Season in my garden to pass, but just as it is with our hearts, the Master Gardener controls all things- from physical winter, to the quiet, uncertain, season of the heart. In His foresight, He knows just what Season the heart needs to bloom more beautifully in the next.
I don't know when Winter will be here, but I want to embrace it- just as the garden embraces the snow and waits quietly while the wind blows strong.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Lessons from a Summer Garden:The Harvest Has Begun
I alternately feel encouraged and discouraged about my garden. In short, with out all the details and proof of the facts, it needs a lot of work before it'll ever be what it should be, and with out a fence as of yet, it is near impossible to keep unwanted visitors from mowing down hard earned produce. As a result, the deer have benefited from my long awaited tomatoes and beans and lettuce and...nearly everything else except for the squash.
The weeds have hit in full force, and while I can keep them out of the beds for the most part, this season won't be the best for keeping them out of the path. Perhaps by next year we'll have the proper tools, and it'll be easier. For now I try not to feel bad about my somewhat untidy looking garden.
Yet, Scott and I dug under a potato plant, and in spite of having its top consistently trimmed off by the deer, there are baby potatoes under there. I've picked 5 squash and have many more that will mature nearly every day or so until frost. I did pick 6 little green beans that the deer missed, and just maybe I'll get one tomato off my plants, as long as my shield holds. There's even a tiny ear of corn on our dwarfed corn plants which makes me happy.
Beyond the discouraging outlook at times, I see the healthy tomato plants that would produce a lot of beautiful fruit if they could, and a whole lot of future potential for years to come. I have a feeling that next year (fence in place and winter fertilizer left to do its work of replenishing and restoring) things will be different and better and even if it isn't how I picture in my mind, progress has been made from that thick, uncultivated sod that only a few months back stood where our garden now stands.
Lately, I've felt a little like the garden-like unwanted attacks have been made on the progress of the growth of the Good Things in my life. I have felt a little sidetracked, a little worn out from heartaches, a little disheartened because weeds seem to grow so much more quickly than the kinds of things I want to see growing in my heart. It is almost like the more I see what is really inside this heart, the less hope I have of it ever becoming the beautiful, well kept and cultivated garden that it ought to be.
But I am not the gardener. The Gardener sees something that I can't see- the little fruits of harvest and the promise that, while it may take a great deal of work still, He will have a beautiful and perfect garden in His perfect time. He sees what I can't see in myself. He sees beyond just now to the future and He has plans for this heart garden that while I don't know, I can trust will be just the thing to make a difference, a big difference in days to come. I can't put in motion the things that will bring those changes about, but I can co operate with the work He is doing in my heart, and let Him teach me how to take in as much "nutrients" as I can from my prayer time and study time. I can embrace the pain, knowing it is just growing pains to make my heart and life more fruitful.
And knowing that He must see a beautiful potential in my heart makes me feel awed and grateful...and so very blessed.
The weeds have hit in full force, and while I can keep them out of the beds for the most part, this season won't be the best for keeping them out of the path. Perhaps by next year we'll have the proper tools, and it'll be easier. For now I try not to feel bad about my somewhat untidy looking garden.
Yet, Scott and I dug under a potato plant, and in spite of having its top consistently trimmed off by the deer, there are baby potatoes under there. I've picked 5 squash and have many more that will mature nearly every day or so until frost. I did pick 6 little green beans that the deer missed, and just maybe I'll get one tomato off my plants, as long as my shield holds. There's even a tiny ear of corn on our dwarfed corn plants which makes me happy.
Beyond the discouraging outlook at times, I see the healthy tomato plants that would produce a lot of beautiful fruit if they could, and a whole lot of future potential for years to come. I have a feeling that next year (fence in place and winter fertilizer left to do its work of replenishing and restoring) things will be different and better and even if it isn't how I picture in my mind, progress has been made from that thick, uncultivated sod that only a few months back stood where our garden now stands.
Lately, I've felt a little like the garden-like unwanted attacks have been made on the progress of the growth of the Good Things in my life. I have felt a little sidetracked, a little worn out from heartaches, a little disheartened because weeds seem to grow so much more quickly than the kinds of things I want to see growing in my heart. It is almost like the more I see what is really inside this heart, the less hope I have of it ever becoming the beautiful, well kept and cultivated garden that it ought to be.
But I am not the gardener. The Gardener sees something that I can't see- the little fruits of harvest and the promise that, while it may take a great deal of work still, He will have a beautiful and perfect garden in His perfect time. He sees what I can't see in myself. He sees beyond just now to the future and He has plans for this heart garden that while I don't know, I can trust will be just the thing to make a difference, a big difference in days to come. I can't put in motion the things that will bring those changes about, but I can co operate with the work He is doing in my heart, and let Him teach me how to take in as much "nutrients" as I can from my prayer time and study time. I can embrace the pain, knowing it is just growing pains to make my heart and life more fruitful.
And knowing that He must see a beautiful potential in my heart makes me feel awed and grateful...and so very blessed.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
A World We Never Touch
Smiles, laughter, yes...but so little joy and there is pain behind the walls in their eyes. Pain no one ever knows, because they never took time to really look, never took time to touch.
He walked along the shores of Galilee
From clay He formed the healing balm
That caused the blind to see
When stones of wrath lay heavy in their hands
He knelt to write His mercy in the sand
Jesus came to set the captives free
Showed us by the way He lived
The way we need to be
Oh love is more than words could ever say
We must touch them with compassion
To help them find their way
How can we reach a world we never touch?
How can we show them Christ
If we never show them love?
Just to say we care will never be enough
How can we reach a world we never touch?
Could we be so busy being saved
Trying to impress a world that's long since lost its way
We pride ourselves in being set apart
Yet we don't have time to touch a broken heart
Even if we found the time to care
Would we take the risk involved in always being there
Oh we hold the very thing they need so much
Sometimes the Word of life can pass
Through just a simple touch
We hide behind these walls
And the security of friends
While beyond the stained glass windows
The world is lost in sin
How can we reach a world we never touch?
How can we show them Christ
If we never show them love?
Just to say we care will never be enough
How can we reach a world we never touch?
How can we reach a world we never touch?
-by Mark Carouthers, Steve Richardson and Tim Pedigo - copyright 1996 (Thanks, Ruth Ann, for this information!)
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Lessons from a Summer Garden:Holding on to Hope
There have been many odds against me this season when it comes to my garden. Sometimes it is discouraging, sometimes amusing, sometimes frustrating, and always an opportunity to cultivate my heart garden a little deeper in patience, and to train my mind to hold on to that hope that was the inspiration in the beginning. There have been some rewards, too, and plenty of weeds, to top it off. But let me tell you a little about them.
A late frost my tender veggie leaves solid. My tomatoes, poor things, were stiff and icy when I went out to take a look before the sun came up that morning. They weren't the only ones either. Nearly all my plants were just as frozen, and time was ticking. I really only had two options: go inside and hide and cringe, and see what was left when I had courage to look, or to fight and pray that God would somehow help my poor efforts to count somehow. I couldn't bear to leave them there to burn and die when the sun hit them, and though I didn't know that it would do any good, I decided to try the old trick I'd heard of- spray the plants with water to get the frost out and the damage will be minimized. For hours I sprayed and I sprayed my poor little frozen plants. I prayed and I prayed that God would help my little efforts to count. After all, He was the one who caused them to grow in the first place.
For a while, the water froze again as fast as I could spray it on, and I wondered if I was doing more harm than good, but I kept spraying and praying. And then the sun came up. It poked its' head over the trees and shone down on me in my cold little garden, and hungry and cold clear through, I slipped inside. I knew I had done what I could. Only time would tell if it had been of any use, and how God would choose to answer my little prayer for my garden.
I didn't look at the garden again until afternoon, and I nearly cried when I saw the garden, for those leaves that had been frozen solid, though a little limp, were all right. True, some leaves needed to be pruned, and the blossoms on the tomatoes fell off, and a pumpkin looked pretty sorry, but the beans, the squash, the tomatoes, the okra, all of it would live. And there in my garden, I thanked My Father who cares about even my simple prayers for tomato and bean plants as much as He cares about my heart.
It was a lot of work to spray with a tiny spray bottle my entire garden for hours. My hand ached and my fingers felt nearly as frozen as the leaves, especially since I had no guarantee that anything would survive anyway, but as I sprayed the lesson came clearly to my mind. God does more for us- and He, too, has no guarantee that we will turn to Him. He suffered more than anyone else will ever suffer, and yet all the love and care that heaven pours out cannot thaw my frozen heart unless I choose Him. Yet, even when I wander, He works on, seeking to draw my heart back to Himself. He never tires, He never gives up.
It fills my heart with amazement, and my eyes with tears. Who is like unto our God?
A late frost my tender veggie leaves solid. My tomatoes, poor things, were stiff and icy when I went out to take a look before the sun came up that morning. They weren't the only ones either. Nearly all my plants were just as frozen, and time was ticking. I really only had two options: go inside and hide and cringe, and see what was left when I had courage to look, or to fight and pray that God would somehow help my poor efforts to count somehow. I couldn't bear to leave them there to burn and die when the sun hit them, and though I didn't know that it would do any good, I decided to try the old trick I'd heard of- spray the plants with water to get the frost out and the damage will be minimized. For hours I sprayed and I sprayed my poor little frozen plants. I prayed and I prayed that God would help my little efforts to count. After all, He was the one who caused them to grow in the first place.
For a while, the water froze again as fast as I could spray it on, and I wondered if I was doing more harm than good, but I kept spraying and praying. And then the sun came up. It poked its' head over the trees and shone down on me in my cold little garden, and hungry and cold clear through, I slipped inside. I knew I had done what I could. Only time would tell if it had been of any use, and how God would choose to answer my little prayer for my garden.
I didn't look at the garden again until afternoon, and I nearly cried when I saw the garden, for those leaves that had been frozen solid, though a little limp, were all right. True, some leaves needed to be pruned, and the blossoms on the tomatoes fell off, and a pumpkin looked pretty sorry, but the beans, the squash, the tomatoes, the okra, all of it would live. And there in my garden, I thanked My Father who cares about even my simple prayers for tomato and bean plants as much as He cares about my heart.
It was a lot of work to spray with a tiny spray bottle my entire garden for hours. My hand ached and my fingers felt nearly as frozen as the leaves, especially since I had no guarantee that anything would survive anyway, but as I sprayed the lesson came clearly to my mind. God does more for us- and He, too, has no guarantee that we will turn to Him. He suffered more than anyone else will ever suffer, and yet all the love and care that heaven pours out cannot thaw my frozen heart unless I choose Him. Yet, even when I wander, He works on, seeking to draw my heart back to Himself. He never tires, He never gives up.
It fills my heart with amazement, and my eyes with tears. Who is like unto our God?
Monday, June 22, 2009
Lessons from a Summer Garden: Hiding Miracles (3)
May 31, 2009:
I held miracles in my hands when I held the little seeds and planted them.. It almost makes me shiver, and thrills me when I think of it- that these seeds are indeed co laborers in one of life's greatest miracles of reproducing life again.
All those little seeds, and the seedlings I'd planted inside weeks ago looked so small and helpless. Of themselves, they wouldn't get very far, but with a little water, and a little sunshine to warm the earth, they are changed into the image of the plant that bore them.
In a way, those seeds are like God's word- that word that is alive, that has power in it to change us in every way. Hidden in our heart, watered by His grace, warmed by the sunshine of His presence, we too, will have new life in us. Beautiful, wonderful new life.
What an illustration of the Miracle of Grace in our hearts. God longs to reproduce in us His likeness, and He can do it, if we lay aside who we are, and let Him change us as He sees fit.
I held miracles in my hands when I held the little seeds and planted them.. It almost makes me shiver, and thrills me when I think of it- that these seeds are indeed co laborers in one of life's greatest miracles of reproducing life again.
All those little seeds, and the seedlings I'd planted inside weeks ago looked so small and helpless. Of themselves, they wouldn't get very far, but with a little water, and a little sunshine to warm the earth, they are changed into the image of the plant that bore them.
In a way, those seeds are like God's word- that word that is alive, that has power in it to change us in every way. Hidden in our heart, watered by His grace, warmed by the sunshine of His presence, we too, will have new life in us. Beautiful, wonderful new life.
What an illustration of the Miracle of Grace in our hearts. God longs to reproduce in us His likeness, and He can do it, if we lay aside who we are, and let Him change us as He sees fit.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Lessons From A Summer Garden: Break Up Fallow Ground (2)
The spot that Scott and I had selected for our garden to be seemed ideal as far as location goes, but if you have ever dug a garden shovel by shovel, you can imagine a little of the work that was cut out for us. The ground had lain fallow for we could only guess how long, and the roots were thickly matted together and deep enough that our small tiller couldn't quite break all the way through to the soil beneath. Thus out came the shovels and turn by turn we started working across the garden space.It was long, hard work, going back and forth, turning a little strip of that old fallow ground whenever we could, and trying to keep ahead of the rain that seemed absolutely determined to keep the ground almost too wet for turning. Some parts were relatively easy to turn, but then we hit a patch with rocks and our progress decreased. But for all the trouble, it was good work, and after all, we were together, working and sharing mutually in the joys and "hardships" of creating a new garden.
I'm not sure when we'd have finished turning our plot, and sometimes we both nearly gave up hope on ever finishing what we wanted, but we kept on. Our landlord decided to try out the old plow and tractor and see if it'd work. And as strip by strip, the ground was turned by the plow, two things came to my mind.
One was gratitude for the kindness of people who do not know us well, yet go out of their way to help us where they can. It was a glimpse of Neighborly Love, something that, though extinct in more places than not, is still alive and well in the hearts of some, and it thrilled me.
The other, though, was about that old ground, and with every turn of the plow, the words of a beautiful song that has blessed me through out the years played through my mind:
"Break up my fallow ground.
Give a heart just like your own.
Where your word will find sweet soil
Everywhere that it is sown.
Break up my fallow ground.
Rid my heart of sinful stone.
Break up my fallow ground-
My heart your throne."
Our soil turned out to be beautiful, and I have hopes that the plants will find it to be filled with the things necessary to proper growth and development., just like I pray that the old unturned ground of my heart, when the Master Gardener takes the plow to it, will be changed from stony and undeveloped land into the soil that will allow His work to be complete in me. It isn't easy work, perhaps, and no doubt painful to the heart, but it is good work, and our God never does anything but the best when it comes to the garden of our hearts.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Lessons From A Summer Garden: Evidence of Faith (1)
I love gardens. The miracles of soil and seed and water and sunshine, and the new life that springs forth from the Master's hand have always fascinated and intrigued me for as long as I can remember, and gardens, with their distinct uniqueness and their many secrets caught my attention quite early. As a child, they were my playground, and there I spent many happy hours- not only pulling weeds and watching the plants grow, but learning to recognize the miracles and the hidden treasures that lay literally beneath our feet- and dreaming of gardens and orchards with secret passage ways to beautiful and restful places where the heart could be still.
As I grew older, and more of the reality of gardens and growing things began to stand out to me, my brother and I would pour over seed catalogs, reading and talking about seed varieties, and being ravished by the pictures of abundant produce that seemed so out of place on a dark and cold January evening. I dreamed then of a farmhouse with beautiful fields around and a place where everything I could wish for would grow- for the sort season, and cooler weather of my Alaska home limited what we could fill our garden with.
When we moved from Alaska to Colorado, the happy garden days ceased with the old home we left behind. I missed my gardens greatly, and longed to get my hands into the soil again, and to be a part of the beauty of learning and growing with the plants I tended each day. Thus, after our engagement, I looked forward with great eagerness to the promise of being able to at least help out in the family garden. An unexpected career change made that dream waver a little, as Scott spent a couple days up North Idaho, and I had but a little faith that whatever rental we might find, that they'd be willing to allow us to dig up the yard for a garden.
Yet, God's hand is not shortened. He sees and hears even the little things we wish for, thus, when Scott told me about the rental that would become our first home, and the three questions on my mind were asked: "Did it have a real mail box, could I put up a clothesline, and could we have a garden, even a tiny one?", Scott assured me that the answer was yes to all three, and great was my joy when I heard those words.
The draftiness of the house, it's somewhat odd exterior, and even its very uneven and rolling floor inside (which made our bookcases hard to balance, but there are many ways to work with even rolling floors!)don't matter much to me. I felt very rich and very blessed- for hadn't God blessed me in the greatest way with a loving husband and wonderful best friend, making home the happiest place ever, and hadn't He also heard those small, even unnecessary little heart desires, and chosen to answer them?
I am not sure a garden is really unnecessary, of course, (and I still don't have a clothesline, though I do enjoy retrieving my mail from a real mail box, and finding mail with my new name on it.) But however wonderful, and however much I love working with the soil, and yes, even though having a garden would mean a lot less money spent on produce elsewhere ( and I do begrudge sharing my money for walmart produce, and only find Farmer's Markets to have the real shopping.), I think that it is the lessons that I see that I love as much as the fresh tomatoes I hope to have by mid to late July (and the beans and corn and cucumbers...)
Someone said that a garden is an evidence of faith. They said well, for there is a lot of faith involved in any sort of garden or farming. But I think that we could add that while a garden takes faith, it opens up the opportunity for cultivating many other things in the heart: perseverance, patience and probably just about all of the Fruit of the Spirit, in one way or another. I've found that the garden in my backyard, and the garden of the heart have ties that are unexpected, and similarities that are both encouraging and painful at times. Sometimes the garden reveals to us who we are, who we should be, the Master Gardener, Christ's dream for us, and the steps of growth that our hearts take in the Christian experience. And as we align our efforts in our gardens with the miracle that is new each springtime, it gives us courage and hope, to align our efforts with Him who can take the worst of soil and turn it into the most beautiful of gardens.
One day, Scott and I went back near the old hand well, to where the landlord had said we could dig and plant and mentally marked out our garden spot. It was not quite half of the size of my old garden, and yet, after all, we'd be hand pumping the water, and we weren't sure what would be revealed underneath the thick grass that had grown uncultivated for more than a dozen years past. It was the first step of faith, and just the beginning of steps and lessons to learn that I have no doubt will continue through-out the season and, Lord willing, in the seasons yet to come.
Join me this year in my first lower 48 garden, and share with me the joys and the growth and the things I have yet to learn- both about gardening, and about cultivating my heart.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Remember His Love
Life is not all made up of pleasant pastures and cooling streams. Trial and disappointment overtake us; privation comes; we are brought into trying places. Conscience-stricken, we reason that we must have walked far away from God, that if we had walked with Him, we should not have suffered so. Doubt and despondency crowd into our hearts, and we say, The Lord has failed us, and we are ill-used. Why does He permit us to suffer thus? He cannot love us; if He did He would remove the difficulties from our path. . . .
He does not always bring us to pleasant places. If He did, in our self-sufficiency we should forget that He is our helper. He longs to manifest Himself to us, and to reveal the abundant supplies at our disposal, and He permits trial and disappointment to come to us that we may realize our helplessness, and learn to call upon Him for aid. He can cause cooling streams to flow from the flinty rock.
We shall never know until we are face to face with God, when we shall see as we are seen and know as we are known, how many burdens He has borne for us, and how many burdens He would have been glad to bear, if with childlike faith we had brought them to Him. . . . God's love is revealed in all His dealings with His people; and with clear, unclouded eyes, in adversity, in sickness, in disappointment, and in trial we are to behold the light of His glory in the face of Christ and trust to His guiding hand. But too often we grieve His heart by our unbelief.
God loves His children, and He longs to see them overcoming the discouragement with which Satan would overpower them. Do not give way to unbelief. Do not magnify your difficulties. Remember the love and power that God has shown in times past.--White
Monday, May 18, 2009
Joy in the Morning
The sun has been shining, the birds singing, and away by the peaceful shores of a large lake, my heart found peace and rest again from the weariness of the past few weeks and months of family-heartache. With the light of the new week, the sunshine of the new day, a million golden flowers are blooming across the pasture.
Last week it rained, it poured buckets from what looked like an endless gray sky. But, even in the darkness of the rainy days, those golden flowers still bloomed.
It doesn't seem to matter to them whether or not the day is beautiful or not. They simply bloom, opening their golden petals faithfully every single morning with the first rays of sunlight, right where they are. They don't wish for a different life. They are content to take each day as it comes- sunshine or rain, and to make the very best of it.
The past week was one of the hardest and most painful of my life, for I had to say good bye to people I love dearly. Life and choices have separated them from me. only God knows if shall ever be restored to my life again in this world. But, sunshine or rain, I must choose, as the golden flowers do each day, to bloom- to let God use me how He desires, to smile and to seek joy, and beauty and happiness, and to live, truly live, even if my heart aches, and my eyes are full of tears, and my heart is broken. For He knows, above all, the pain and the sorrow, and the beauty that is there, even with the deepest pain.
I think I found a little glimpse of that this past week, in the face of those dandelions.
Last week it rained, it poured buckets from what looked like an endless gray sky. But, even in the darkness of the rainy days, those golden flowers still bloomed.
It doesn't seem to matter to them whether or not the day is beautiful or not. They simply bloom, opening their golden petals faithfully every single morning with the first rays of sunlight, right where they are. They don't wish for a different life. They are content to take each day as it comes- sunshine or rain, and to make the very best of it.
The past week was one of the hardest and most painful of my life, for I had to say good bye to people I love dearly. Life and choices have separated them from me. only God knows if shall ever be restored to my life again in this world. But, sunshine or rain, I must choose, as the golden flowers do each day, to bloom- to let God use me how He desires, to smile and to seek joy, and beauty and happiness, and to live, truly live, even if my heart aches, and my eyes are full of tears, and my heart is broken. For He knows, above all, the pain and the sorrow, and the beauty that is there, even with the deepest pain.
"Weeping May endure for the night, but JOY cometh in the morning."
I think I found a little glimpse of that this past week, in the face of those dandelions.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
It's Mother's Day
There's a beautiful post over on YLCF with quotes on being wives and mothers in honor of today. They're all beautiful quotes, but one of those is a real treasure. Go read the post and see if you can figure out which one. ;)
Another post over on Pleasant Times gives all kinds of tips and hints on making Mother's Day very special- and giving gifts that last not just the day, but a whole lot longer. Just remember, sometimes it's those little things that didn't cost you anything except time, thought and effort that mean the most to parents in the end.
But today, as I think of my own mommies (for I have two of them now) and of the friends that have become mommies, who are near and dear to my heart, I am praying for wisdom, for strength, for grace for them to raise the little people in their care for HIM. It's a task that seems daunting, but it is the "beautifulest" third-degree (The first degree is the on-going study of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the second degree is an on going study and the work of honoring and loving our husbands and making home the happiest and best place ever) one could ever take on. I'll leave you with this quote that has inspired and encouraged me, as not- a- mommy-yet, but one who loves and cares for children.
Another post over on Pleasant Times gives all kinds of tips and hints on making Mother's Day very special- and giving gifts that last not just the day, but a whole lot longer. Just remember, sometimes it's those little things that didn't cost you anything except time, thought and effort that mean the most to parents in the end.
But today, as I think of my own mommies (for I have two of them now) and of the friends that have become mommies, who are near and dear to my heart, I am praying for wisdom, for strength, for grace for them to raise the little people in their care for HIM. It's a task that seems daunting, but it is the "beautifulest" third-degree (The first degree is the on-going study of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the second degree is an on going study and the work of honoring and loving our husbands and making home the happiest and best place ever) one could ever take on. I'll leave you with this quote that has inspired and encouraged me, as not- a- mommy-yet, but one who loves and cares for children.
The mother's work often seems to her an unimportant service. It is a work that is rarely appreciated. Others know little of her many cares and burdens. Her days are occupied with a round of little duties, all calling for patient effort, for self-control, for tact, wisdom, and self-sacrificing love; yet she cannot boast of what she has done as any great achievement. She has only kept things in the home running smoothly. Often weary and perplexed, she has tried to speak kindly to the children, to keep them busy and happy, and to guide their little feet in the right path. She feels that she has accomplished nothing. But it is not so.
Heavenly angels watch the careworn mother, noting the burdens she carries day by day. Her name may not have been heard in the world, but it is written in the Lamb's book of life.
-White
Thursday, May 07, 2009
The Journey
Sometimes the journey of life is painfully hard, and it is difficult to "count it all joy", but there is joy, joy in the journey, if we only look for it.
That's my life right now. A painful journey it may be at times, but there is an amazing amount of joy in my journey too. I only have to look beside me when I wake up in the morning to see it. I only have to glance out the window as I work, to see it. I only have to look across the table at dinner time at the face of the girl I grew up with to see it. I only have to look at the golden faces of the dandelions in the lawn to see it. I only have to look up, and I see it, no feel it in the depths of my soul.
The road may be rough and thorny, life may take from me some of the things I held as dear and precious, but God never takes away anything without giving us grace, strength to go on, and yes...beautiful joy to help heal some of the wounds.
The past is past. What is done is done. It's today that I have. It's just beginning, and it's going to be a beautiful, joyful day on the Journey.
That's my life right now. A painful journey it may be at times, but there is an amazing amount of joy in my journey too. I only have to look beside me when I wake up in the morning to see it. I only have to glance out the window as I work, to see it. I only have to look across the table at dinner time at the face of the girl I grew up with to see it. I only have to look at the golden faces of the dandelions in the lawn to see it. I only have to look up, and I see it, no feel it in the depths of my soul.
The road may be rough and thorny, life may take from me some of the things I held as dear and precious, but God never takes away anything without giving us grace, strength to go on, and yes...beautiful joy to help heal some of the wounds.
The past is past. What is done is done. It's today that I have. It's just beginning, and it's going to be a beautiful, joyful day on the Journey.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Happiness is a Choice
Happiness is not a destination. It is a method of life.
Author: Burton Hills
Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times.
Author: Anonymous
Most people would rather be certain they're miserable, than risk being happy.
Author: Robert Anthony
Better to choose happiness, and endure the effort and the struggle. Being miserable is just that- miserable. I'm choosing happiness, and living in the sunshine. By His grace, this is where I want to stay. It's a beautiful thing, but even better when you have friends along the way. Join me?
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Because He Lives
It's Spring again- the time of new beginnings, of starting, of growing, of changing.The winter has been long and dark, and the sunshine feels glorious and warm. I can't get enough of it. There are birds singing, and the yaks in the pasture on the other side of the barn that sits near our little house have a tiny new baby, the cutest thing ever. The snow that has long buried the landscape is melting away, revealing beneath it the good earth again, and a lot of activity.
Little seeds, laying under the cold blanket of snow are bursting forth into new life, and we are surrounded by abundant evidence that He lives.
It is a happy time for me, and I can't help but sing with those birds, and wait for the barefoot days of summer to unfold when I can abandon shoes for a while and wear light, summery skirts and sandals instead, and dig in my garden and watch the flowers grow in the meadows.
Yet, when I go out to wander a little each day, under all that snow there were the old leaves of autumn, the dead grass from last season, and sticks and stones that have collected over the months of cold and wind. There's work to do if we want to see the real beauty of the grass waiting to burst out under there.
Spring time is the time to clear all that rubbish off, to get out the rake, and pull it all away, and let the newness of life spring forth in all it's beauty, uncluttered by the past, and unhindered by obstacles that were thrown in its way during the winter. And to think, that underneath all that is the promise of another season, another harvest, of blessings from the Giver of all Life. Without Him, there'd be no Springtime, no leaves or old grass to rake, no promise of barefoot days or even a bird to sing cheerful songs.
Yes, He lives.
And... because He lives, we can face tomorrow, we can face our future, the unknown of yet another season of life, we can embrace our joys and our sorrows, and face them with hope, and with trust, and with confidence that He who recreates newness each spring will recreate it in our hearts as well. Those little seeds He's been planting in our lives, seeds often planted in difficulty, in trial, in the darkness of pain and affliction and heart ache, will spring forth into beautiful flowers of love, of patience, of joy, and humility.
Unlike the Seasons, which come and go in their time, we sometimes choose the season of our hearts, clinging to winter with all its bitter cold and darkness as if our life depended on living in the shadows. We long for the joy and beauty of Summer time, but disdain the change of Spring.
We may find that in the dark, long winter, we've lost our freshness, our first love for Him, and we need a good Spring Cleaning, but fear the pain that we know that rake might bring, or of what might be revealed of who we really are, if it pulls back those old, dead leaves of the past that we've been holding close, causes us to fight for "our rights", and hold on to the past disappointments and failures as if they are treasures worth dying for. But all we've got is old, dead leaves, when we could have beautiful, bright new grass and the best of flowers.
We can't get to Summer without Spring. As much as He wants to, the sacrifice, the death and even the resurrection of our LORD cannot bring new seasons to our life if we don't embrace the Spring Time of change and let Him renew us.
If we were to try to do it all ourselves, we'd get nowhere, for just as the garden can't turn itself or get ready for new little plants to grow, or just as the lawn cannot rake itself clean of all those dead leaves, we can't truly get rid of all the old winter-time baggage on our own.
But that is why He lives.
He wants to recreate that life that He has, in you. Right now. Get rid of all the old things of the past, and uncover the treasures of the future.
Let Him get out that rake, stop holding on to whatever it is that seems to painful to let go- those grudges, those disappointed hopes, those broken dreams and wounded feelings and remember that they're really just dead things that will only hinder us in the end..Embrace His Life, and the beauty of True Spring will break forth in your heart.
But there is an even more beautiful work that is done.
The old, dry, dead leaves from the past season, once raked up can be gathered together, and with proper care and treatment become nourishing food for the growth of the new plants. A good compost can do wonders for a garden, and can give valuable nutrients to any plant, causing it to grow bigger, and better and more beautiful than it would otherwise.
Our Savior does just such a thing with those old leaves of our past. He turns what seems to be the worst into something beautiful, something that strengthens and encourages the New Life that He has created in our hearts. Those very things that were hindering us from growing, that hurt us and kept us feeling wintery, He turns into one of the biggest blessings in our lives.
Those heartaches, those sorrows, those broken dreams- all of those things we could not understand when they faded and fell lifeless onto the ground, when we let Him have them all, He turned into something good. Satan meant it for evil, but God knew better.
"Where man sees but withered leaves, God sees sweet flowers growing." ~Albert Laighton
Because He lives.
(Posted originally on YLCF)
Photo By Chantel Harding of Katie B enjoying a Montana Daisy Field and a beautiful Spring Day
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Let Me Be Like You
Teach Me, Lord
To do your will,
No matter what may come.
Show me Lord,
Your chosen path,
No matter how difficult.
Shape me, Lord,
Into your form,
No matter how much pain.
Give me Lord,
Your joy
No matter how much sorrow.
Grant me Lord,
Your blessing,
No matter how small.
Let me be like You.
To do your will,
No matter what may come.
Show me Lord,
Your chosen path,
No matter how difficult.
Shape me, Lord,
Into your form,
No matter how much pain.
Give me Lord,
Your joy
No matter how much sorrow.
Grant me Lord,
Your blessing,
No matter how small.
Let me be like You.
Friday, March 20, 2009
For Such a Time As This
God's ways are not our ways. He works in a way that from our perspective should never work. He can overturn what was meant for evil, and make it into something good, beautiful, a blessing. The impossible is possible for God.
Often God's purposes are worked out through the lives of those who are willing to do what God says, counting the cost, yet stepping forward, knowing that to do God's will is to be a part of destiny, a part of the outworking of His great plan.
Often we meet trials and troubles with confusion and discouragement. We look at where we are, against our desire, and wonder why. Only God knows. Yet, like Joseph, like Daniel, like Esther, perhaps God put us right here, for such a time as this.
Often God's purposes are worked out through the lives of those who are willing to do what God says, counting the cost, yet stepping forward, knowing that to do God's will is to be a part of destiny, a part of the outworking of His great plan.
Often we meet trials and troubles with confusion and discouragement. We look at where we are, against our desire, and wonder why. Only God knows. Yet, like Joseph, like Daniel, like Esther, perhaps God put us right here, for such a time as this.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Scott & Chantel
“This day I will marry my best friend, the one I laugh with, live for, dream with, love”
God's way is perfect. Exceedingly, abundantly above all that I could have asked, or even dreamed.
God's way is perfect. Exceedingly, abundantly above all that I could have asked, or even dreamed.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Let Me Be Like You
Teach Me, Lord
To do your will,
No matter what may come.
Show me Lord,
Your chosen path,
No matter how difficult.
Shape me, Lord,
Into your form,
No matter how much pain.
Give me Lord,
Your joy
No matter how much sorrow.
Grant me Lord,
Your blessing,
No matter how small.
Let me be like You.
To do your will,
No matter what may come.
Show me Lord,
Your chosen path,
No matter how difficult.
Shape me, Lord,
Into your form,
No matter how much pain.
Give me Lord,
Your joy
No matter how much sorrow.
Grant me Lord,
Your blessing,
No matter how small.
Let me be like You.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The Red Envelope
I came across a site, thanks to a link posted on a forum about natural womens health issues, dedicated to a project I hadn't heard of before- The Red Envelope Project.
The concept is simple, yet touching. It involves a empty Red Envelope, addressed to our President, Barak Obama, symbolizing the life of a child who never had a chance to make a difference in the world, because their right to live was robbed them by an abortion.
Responsibility starts with conception. It's true.
While the project may not make a difference in the laws of this land, it is a silent protest to the laws that allow others to take life for granted and treat responsibility lightly. It is a project that may be worth something, somewhere, somehow. I don't know.
Abortion is a controversial issue, even amongst Christians. It shouldn't be. God created life, and He sustains it. He has great plans for each little life, even if conceived in less than ideal circumstances. Who are we to decide that this plan is over?
The concept is simple, yet touching. It involves a empty Red Envelope, addressed to our President, Barak Obama, symbolizing the life of a child who never had a chance to make a difference in the world, because their right to live was robbed them by an abortion.
Responsibility starts with conception. It's true.
While the project may not make a difference in the laws of this land, it is a silent protest to the laws that allow others to take life for granted and treat responsibility lightly. It is a project that may be worth something, somewhere, somehow. I don't know.
Abortion is a controversial issue, even amongst Christians. It shouldn't be. God created life, and He sustains it. He has great plans for each little life, even if conceived in less than ideal circumstances. Who are we to decide that this plan is over?
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Call to Service
The Call to Service
The call to Christian service
Is a call from God above.
He sends us forth to serve a world,
And save that world through love.
He calls for you, He calls for me;
‘Tis God’s own voice that says “Go ye.”
The call to Christian service
Is a call from men without.
“Come o’er to Macedonia” –
Can you hear their dying shout?
They cry to you, they cry to me.
Let’s go while still they plead, “Come ye.”
The call to Christian service,
Is a call we hear within.
Our own hearts seem to whisper,
“Go and save this world from sin.”
May your sincere response now be,
“I’m wholly Thine, Lord, please send me.”
- Adlai Esteb
The call to Christian service
Is a call from God above.
He sends us forth to serve a world,
And save that world through love.
He calls for you, He calls for me;
‘Tis God’s own voice that says “Go ye.”
The call to Christian service
Is a call from men without.
“Come o’er to Macedonia” –
Can you hear their dying shout?
They cry to you, they cry to me.
Let’s go while still they plead, “Come ye.”
The call to Christian service,
Is a call we hear within.
Our own hearts seem to whisper,
“Go and save this world from sin.”
May your sincere response now be,
“I’m wholly Thine, Lord, please send me.”
- Adlai Esteb
Friday, February 13, 2009
True Love
Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and people around the world may stop to celebrate Love. Yet, while the world celebrates, few perhaps really know what true love even is, let alone how to experience it, not just as a fleeting, momentary pleasure on Valentine's Day, but as their life.
I don't claim to know and understand Love, True Love, in it's completeness myself. I believe that, as with many things in life, True Love is a journey that we often don't even know the beginning of, and that will last us for our whole life.
Learning, growing, experiencing, broadening and developing into greater sweetness and beauty each and every day, True Love is something worth any cost, and True Love costs everything.
It is easy to love someone who loves us, but when that love is tested, when it is crossed, when it is tried to it's very core, that is when we find the substance of our Love. True Love may flicker in the strong wind, but it won't go out. Instead, it'll get brighter and hotter, and deeper.
Of ourselves, we have absolutely nothing like this True Love in our hearts, yet it costs nothing that even the poorest on earth cannot afford.
In order to truly love, we must be willing to give everything that we are, all that we have, our whole life and pour it out as a gift, expecting nothing in return. Sometimes, we will not seem to get anything in return for the Love Gift of our all in this life, but God has promised that our reward is in a better place than this, and whether we realize now or later, True Love is never wasted, and never lost, never regretted.
God is the Author of Love. God is Love. And if we desire this Love, we can look to Him to supply it.
He doesn't promise it won't be painful to Love, only that it is the most beautiful thing, the most happy thing that we can ever do. And it's true. If you have tasted and experienced True Love, you know, as I do, that nothing, nothing in this World can compare to real, true, pure Love. God's Love. It's a beautiful journey, no matter the pain or the struggles.
There's times when we'll each struggle- for the old kind of "Love" and True Love cannot live in the same heart without a struggle, for only one can be Master, and yet the roots of the old love go deep and only time, God and learning the New, True Love will ever remove it from us.
And if you haven't yet asked to try it, don't wait another minute. Go to Him, and seek Him in the quietness to give you what ever you lack, and to enroll you in His School of Love. He'll do it for you, and teach you more than you could ever imagine.
I don't claim to know and understand Love, True Love, in it's completeness myself. I believe that, as with many things in life, True Love is a journey that we often don't even know the beginning of, and that will last us for our whole life.
Learning, growing, experiencing, broadening and developing into greater sweetness and beauty each and every day, True Love is something worth any cost, and True Love costs everything.
It is easy to love someone who loves us, but when that love is tested, when it is crossed, when it is tried to it's very core, that is when we find the substance of our Love. True Love may flicker in the strong wind, but it won't go out. Instead, it'll get brighter and hotter, and deeper.
Of ourselves, we have absolutely nothing like this True Love in our hearts, yet it costs nothing that even the poorest on earth cannot afford.
In order to truly love, we must be willing to give everything that we are, all that we have, our whole life and pour it out as a gift, expecting nothing in return. Sometimes, we will not seem to get anything in return for the Love Gift of our all in this life, but God has promised that our reward is in a better place than this, and whether we realize now or later, True Love is never wasted, and never lost, never regretted.
God is the Author of Love. God is Love. And if we desire this Love, we can look to Him to supply it.
He doesn't promise it won't be painful to Love, only that it is the most beautiful thing, the most happy thing that we can ever do. And it's true. If you have tasted and experienced True Love, you know, as I do, that nothing, nothing in this World can compare to real, true, pure Love. God's Love. It's a beautiful journey, no matter the pain or the struggles.
There's times when we'll each struggle- for the old kind of "Love" and True Love cannot live in the same heart without a struggle, for only one can be Master, and yet the roots of the old love go deep and only time, God and learning the New, True Love will ever remove it from us.
And if you haven't yet asked to try it, don't wait another minute. Go to Him, and seek Him in the quietness to give you what ever you lack, and to enroll you in His School of Love. He'll do it for you, and teach you more than you could ever imagine.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Like the Wild Flowers
A girl I didn't know sent me a note one day last April. When I read it, it was one of those moments that sent shivers down my back... only God could have known what I needed just then, and it was this quote from one of my most loved "stories"... Hind's Feet on High Places.
Just then it struck a chord in my heart-- and tears filled my eyes and encouragement strengthened my heart as I was reminded that the greatest victories that the world never sees are some of the best, the most beautiful after all. Like the wildflowers, who cheerfully go on, living each day for His audience alone, so may God help me to live. Even if no one ever knows.
And the girl who sent it to me? I'm thankful to say that not only did my heart find encouragement and the blessing it needed that day, it also found a friend. Ah, God is good. :)
Just then it struck a chord in my heart-- and tears filled my eyes and encouragement strengthened my heart as I was reminded that the greatest victories that the world never sees are some of the best, the most beautiful after all. Like the wildflowers, who cheerfully go on, living each day for His audience alone, so may God help me to live. Even if no one ever knows.
And the girl who sent it to me? I'm thankful to say that not only did my heart find encouragement and the blessing it needed that day, it also found a friend. Ah, God is good. :)
"Much-Afraid looked at the Shepherd earnestly. 'I have often wondered about the wild flowers...it does seem strange that such unnumbered multitudes should bloom in the wild places of the earth where perhaps nobody ever sees them...They have so much beauty and sweetness to give and no one on whom to lavish it, nor who will even appreciate it.'
The look the Shepherd turned on her was very beautiful. 'Nothing my Father and I have made is ever wasted...and the little wild flowers have a wonderful lesson to teach. They offer themselves so sweetly and confidently and willingly, even if it seems that there is no one to appreciate them.....
All the fairest beauties in the human soul, its greatest victories, and its most splendid achievements are always those which no one else knows anything about, or can only dimly guess at. Every inner response of the human heart to Love and every conquest over self-love is a new flower on the tree of Love. Many a quiet, ordinary, and hidden life, unknown to the world, is a veritable garden in which Love's flowers and fruits have come to such perfection that it is a place of delight where the King of Love himself walks and rejoices with his friends.
Some of my servants have indeed won great visible victories and are rightly loved and reverenced by other men, but always their greatest victories are like the wild flowers, those which no one knows about."
Friday, January 30, 2009
This Day
This day is fragile,
Soon it will end.
And once it has vanished,
It will not come again.
So let us love
With a heart pure and strong
Before this day is gone.
This day is fleeting,
When it slips away,
Not all our money
Can buy back this day.
So let us pray
That we might be a friend,
Before this day is spent.
This day is frail,
It will pass by.
So before it's too late
To recapture the time
Let us share love,
Let us share God
Before this day is gone.
This day we're given is golden,
Let us show love.
This day is ours for one moment
Let us sow love-
Before this day is gone.
Lowell Alexander
Soon it will end.
And once it has vanished,
It will not come again.
So let us love
With a heart pure and strong
Before this day is gone.
This day is fleeting,
When it slips away,
Not all our money
Can buy back this day.
So let us pray
That we might be a friend,
Before this day is spent.
This day is frail,
It will pass by.
So before it's too late
To recapture the time
Let us share love,
Let us share God
Before this day is gone.
This day we're given is golden,
Let us show love.
This day is ours for one moment
Let us sow love-
Before this day is gone.
Lowell Alexander
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Mercies in Disguise
"Afflictions are oft mercies in disguise. We know not what we might have been without them. When God in His mysterious providence overthrows all our cherished plans, and we may receive sorrow in the place of joy, we will bow in submission and say, "Thy will, Oh God, be done."...
The Lord looks upon our afflictions. He graciously and discriminately metes them out and apportions them. As a refiner of silver He watches us every moment until the purification is complete. The furnace is to purify and refine, not to destroy and consume. He will cause those who put their trust in Him to sing of mercies in the midst of judgments. He is ever watching to impart, when most needed, new and fresh blessings, strength in the hour of weakness, succor in the hour of danger, friends in the hour of loneliness, sympathy, human and divine, in the hour of sorrow. We are homeward bound. He that loveth us so much as to die for us hath builded for us a city. The New Jerusalem is our place of rest. There will be no sadness in the City of God. No wail of sadness. No dirge of crushed hopes and buried affection shall ever more be heard. "
-- E.W
Friday, January 23, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
In His Hands
I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all; but whatever I have placed in God's hands, that I still possess.
Martin Luther
Putting things in God's hands is easy, yet it's not. There's something in us that tries so hard to cling to what we feel is ours by right, or even by choice. Yet, we loose these cherished treasures, and brokenly try to figure out what to do with the pieces that are left.
The best thing I ever did was to put my life in God's hands, to put my love, and the desire to be loved in return, to put all that I knew there. I thought I was giving it up, and laying it aside, but God gave it back to me more beautiful than I could have ever dreamed. Often I stand in awe of this, often tears come to my eyes as I realize that beyond what I saw, He gave and gives me so much more than I could ever have had if I'd held on.
It's not that I have no struggles, that I don't still try to hold on when I shouldn't. Often I find myself clinging to some cherished dream, only to realize that in doing this, I'm loosing and I'm likely keeping God from giving me the good thing that He wants me to have.
So this year, once again, I am learning to put things in God's hands. He is the LORD of all things. He is the one who possesses all things. He knows my needs, and understands my heart-longings much more than even I do myself. He delights to give the desires of our hearts... if we let Him, made beautiful into the thing that in His infinite wisdom, He knows is for our best.
There's much to learn, much room to grow, but it's my prayer, my heart-desire to let God have all, to give back to Him, and really, it wasn't mine to start with. He has promised to take care of us, and I know, truly know, that He never lets His side of the promise down.
What are your dearest treasures? Your cherished dreams? Put them in God's hands. It's the best thing you'll ever do.
Martin Luther
Putting things in God's hands is easy, yet it's not. There's something in us that tries so hard to cling to what we feel is ours by right, or even by choice. Yet, we loose these cherished treasures, and brokenly try to figure out what to do with the pieces that are left.
The best thing I ever did was to put my life in God's hands, to put my love, and the desire to be loved in return, to put all that I knew there. I thought I was giving it up, and laying it aside, but God gave it back to me more beautiful than I could have ever dreamed. Often I stand in awe of this, often tears come to my eyes as I realize that beyond what I saw, He gave and gives me so much more than I could ever have had if I'd held on.
It's not that I have no struggles, that I don't still try to hold on when I shouldn't. Often I find myself clinging to some cherished dream, only to realize that in doing this, I'm loosing and I'm likely keeping God from giving me the good thing that He wants me to have.
So this year, once again, I am learning to put things in God's hands. He is the LORD of all things. He is the one who possesses all things. He knows my needs, and understands my heart-longings much more than even I do myself. He delights to give the desires of our hearts... if we let Him, made beautiful into the thing that in His infinite wisdom, He knows is for our best.
There's much to learn, much room to grow, but it's my prayer, my heart-desire to let God have all, to give back to Him, and really, it wasn't mine to start with. He has promised to take care of us, and I know, truly know, that He never lets His side of the promise down.
What are your dearest treasures? Your cherished dreams? Put them in God's hands. It's the best thing you'll ever do.
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