Winsome Woman . . because I want to be

Words

2012-03-02T05:07:00.000-08:00

She said her brothers would laugh at her and call her ugly. Her parents said she was worthless. They said she'd grow up to be a whore.

I listened to her words through tears, hers and mine. Heart breaking. Beyond comprehension. How could the ones meant to love, to affirm, to encourage feel such indifference? Such hate?

Poverty will do that to a heart. Starved for life's basic needs a heart withers, hardens. Hates.

But then she spoke of another. One who would write her letters and tell her . .

"You are beautiful."

"God made you and has wonderful plans for your life."

"He loves you."

"I love you."

And this stranger from another land reached across miles with words and healed her heart. Gave her hope. And she smiled.

I wept. That words scratched out once a month costing nothing but time and about a dollar a day could impact a heart so.

I'd prayed that weekend away at a women's retreat for some encouragement. Some direction and inspiration. Some hope for long, weary difficulties and hurts. For Em.

It's not an easy time to be a seventeen year old girl. Especially one who's trying to swim upstream against a roaring, white-capped tide of chaos and culture. Fear, failure, and discouragement seem ever present. Poverty of spirit can be crippling too.

It's been said the remedy for discouragement is to reach beyond the dark confines of one's own hurt into the pain of another with love and comfort.

Is thy cruse of comfort wasting?

Rise and share it with another,

And through all the years of famine,

It shall serve thee and thy brother.

Is thy burden hard and heavy?

Do they steps drag heavily?

Help to bear thy brother's burden'

God will bear both it and thee

~ Elizabeth Charles (Daily Strength for Daily Living)

As I listened to her story, I knew the answer to my prayer.

I couldn't get to the Compassion table fast enough. It would be a girl for sure. Em had prayed for years for a sister, but God had other plans. A princess amongst five brothers, I knew she still sometimes longed for a sister. She loves little girls and everything girly. Even at seventeen, her favorite books are "Fancy Nancy."

The table that had been covered with photos was sparse now. Only a few girls left. I looked at each face with such excitement. It was if a conception, gestation, and delivery were all occurring in under an hour.

"Which one? God, show me which one."

Her. Eyes pale. Innocent but serious. Tiny little body. Frail arms lay at her side blending into equally frail legs. She didn't smile.

Belinda from Asia would be Em's little sister.

Weeping again I told the worker I'd like this one.

Someday soon little Belinda will receive a letter from a "big girl" far away. Who will tell her she's beautiful, and special, and loved.

And she'll smile.

Hundreds of children like Belinda are waiting for someone to write them a letter too. Many have been waiting for a sponsor for over six months. Your words could impact a life for eternity.

You can see their photos here

Sister Blogs: Hope With Feathers

2012-03-01T06:16:00.000-08:00

I'm very excited to introduce you to my blog and real life friend Kristen Kill and her beautiful blog, Hope With Feathers. Kristen blogs about life in a two bedroom apartment with her husband and four young children in New York City. She writes about grace-filled parenting, creating a culture of beauty in her home and homeschool, and adventures with her family in the city.

My daughter, Emily, and I have had the privilege of visiting Kristen and her precious family twice now. You would be amazed at how she manages her bustling, young family in such a small space. And it's so beautiful (she's posted photos under her "Nesting" tab)! Every time I'm there, I'm determined to: 1) never again complain about not enough space, 2) go home and get rid of tons of stuff, and 3) laugh & hug my kids 10X more! In the midst of a family and home that literally buzzes with activity, Kristen demonstrates a lightness of spirit and joy that is inspiring.

Recently, Kristen journaled her miscarriage experience in a series of posts entitled "Writing Grief." She struck a chord as was evident by the numerous responses she received both on her blog and Facebook. Her vulnerability and transparency powerfully connected with many women about an often overlooked loss and sorrow.

Kristen's blog demonstrates the heart of what's best in blogging . . authenticity, generosity, joy, and beauty. I really do hope you take a couple minutes and stop by. As her byline reads, she's "Feathering a nest in the big city" and it's the coziest place I've found in NYC yet.

You can find Kristen here.

Every Thursday I'm featuring one of my favorite "Sister Blogs". My hope is to create a community where we cheer each other on and broaden one another's reach by sharing the blogs of those who have enriched our lives with their words. Join me?

1) write a post introducing us to one of your favorite blogs
2) link up below
3) visit a "sister" and leave them a comment!

Unseen

2012-02-27T18:38:00.001-08:00

Half an oyster shell sits by my bathroom sink. Every morning I see its dull grey-brown surface and am reminded. Of the unseen. I have it by my sink, so I can watch the rainbow of colors appear on its surface when I hold it under the running water. Like magic, brought to life. As I gaze for a few moments before my busy day, I ask God to help me see what might otherwise go unnoticed. To give me eyes to see the unseen.

Some days I see. Like last week when I was looking forward to a long car ride with one of my sons, anticipating the kind of conversation that usually only takes place in solitude. We were hardly out of the driveway, when both of us were furious with each other. My hopes for meaningful conversation were met with thirty minutes of thick silence.

But the silence gave me time to think (after I'd stewed) and to pray for vision to see the unseen. And I did. I saw past frustration, anger, pride . . mine and his. Our conversation was marked with humility, sensitivity, and insight.

Yet sometimes the unseen remains so, and it's only embraced by faith in a loving God who sees all.

Daniel called late last Wednesday night. His friend Lucas' father had passed away suddenly. Only fifty years old, he'd died of a heart attack while jogging. Daniel had spent Sundays with the Pedersen family and had even gone to lunch with Bjarne, Lucas' dad. While I didn't know him personally, I feel such gratitude for his generosity of heart and home toward my son. My heart aches with the loss this family has sustained. But as we stayed in touch with Daniel over the last week, we've heard of a peace that has surrounded and strengthened all those who mourn.

Today, Daniel called again and told me about the memorial service yesterday. How there were hundreds in attendance and hundreds more across the ocean viewing by streaming video. All testified to the impact of this man's life on theirs. A man who loved God, lived a life of integrity and generosity, and has left his family with a legacy of truth and love.

In the midst of such pain, it is faith in the unseen that wraps a mourning heart in comfort and hope.

There's so much happening that we can't see.

Find more of Christa Wells beautiful music here

Giving thanks for a thousand things . .

647. peace that passes understanding

648. a life celebrated

649. hope that sustains

650. a son whose life was touched

651. a group of friends that surround and hold up

652. an institution that has truly created community

653. a new place to call home

and in the unseen

654. unsettled hearts

655. tense confrontation

656. hard, tight places

657. fearful and discouraged friend

658. uncertainty

659. sorrow in death

but yet

660. a certain hope

661. no more sting

Sister Blogs: Curious Acorn

2012-02-23T09:27:00.003-08:00

I knew I would like her when I read her blog's name,

"Curious Acorn . . never stop learning"

Just the sound drew me in, and what a place I found! In this vast world of blogging, some bloggers stand out right away. They combine photos, design, and authentic words to paint a picture of a personality you feel like you know in real life after just a few reads. Jodi's blog was like that.

I found her in my early blogging days, probably giving thanks over at Ann's. She was quick to offer encouraging comments, a balm and blessing in blogging. Kind of like a momma blogger cheering on a newbie.

I've followed her since. She's a few steps further down the road of life than me, and I find courage watching her walk the paths I'm just starting to know . . children moved round the world, grandbabies, and life in the autumn years. From all appearances, she's walking it well.

So go visit my friend Jodi. Enjoy her skill at finding beauty in the commonplace. She doesn't know you're coming but will be so glad you did. That's the nicest thing about blogs, no invitation needed. The door is always open. And I just know Jodi will be so glad to see you.

And when you visit, please be sure to let her know you did. Comments are kind of like leaving your calling card. Enjoy Curious Acorn!

Each Thursday I will "highlight" one of my favorite Sister Blogs. My hope is to create a community where we cheer each other on and broaden one another's reach by sharing the blogs of those who have enriched our lives with their words. Join me?

Ash

2012-02-22T16:27:00.000-08:00

I wanted to go get ashes today. Is that how you say it? I don't even know. I just know I wanted to do it and have wanted to ever since the day I found out you could.

That poor lady looked like she'd been hit. What could have caused a bruise on her forehead like that? Later another one. A kid with a bruise so much like the lady's. Weird. And then another, and I'm wondering if I'm in some kind of Twilight Zone. Until I tell my friend, who laughs and informs me it is Ash Wednesday and those are ashes on the foreheads of all the "poor" people I saw.

I don't even understand all the meaning behind it, I just know ever since I heard about it I wanted it. Because I love tradition, ceremony, anything that stands out in a day and reminds me of what this day, this life, is really all about.

We didn't celebrate Lent in my interdenominational church growing up. Advent either. I remember the first time visiting the Catholic church with my husband's family at Christmas. I was in awe of the beauty, symbolism, reverence all pointing to the Christ I had loved ever since I could remember. Cathedrals do that same thing to me. The honor and effort testify to the import of Who is being remembered and celebrated.

So I am an outsider, a beggar, at the table of the traditional churches. But how I love to visit and soak in the beauty of their traditions, ceremony, and liturgical year.

But I didn't get there today. I wasn't sure how to go about it anyway. Getting ashes. Instead I bought a house with my husband. Visited said house. Grabbed lunch. Came home and said bye to husband who went out to buy a car. We don't typically buy house and car on the same day. It just happened to work that way, since Jeff's van got totaled two weeks ago and the rental from the insurance company expires in a couple days.

House. Car. But no ashes.

Em and I sit down to tea and enjoy the quiet. It's rare to be alone here, so we take advantage and do something we couldn't otherwise. Like talk without being interrupted.

Talking with Em always teaches me. She experiences everyday life at a level I'm not familiar with. She sees color everywhere. Hears music in thoughts. Feels deep. Hurts deep. As we talk, she let's me in to the cathedral of her soul where she shares her bruises. Not the kind drawn on with ash, but pounded in by pain.

Then she tells me how she is learning of love through loss. Faith through failure. Hope through hurt. How she's realizing we are all "poor" people. And I see the beauty that's rising from the ashes of struggle. Purified by fire. Tested in trial.

And I've been ashed.

Is that how you say it?

Remember

2012-02-21T20:10:00.000-08:00

The bit of cracker sits beside the small plastic cup brim full in the cup of my hands. I ponder the words, "Do this in remembrance of me."

Was He afraid we'd forget?

Faces of the ones I love come to mind. How I want them to remember my sacrifice. So I tell the stories of long nights of lost sleep and love. Of even longer days in NICU units. Twice. Wires, beeps, reminders everywhere of the taut, tenuous string between labored breaths . . and death. Of silent song prayers hummed quiet and constant till throat turned raw.

I want them to remember.

Not because I have some egotistic need for appreciation. I want them to remember because the tears, and lost sleep, and desperate prayers, and fragile hopes were the bleeding of my heart. Pierced through with love.

I want them to remember because as they remember they'll know love again.

Is that why we eat the broken bread and drink the cup? Not because He needs us to remember, but because if we forget we cut ourselves off from the memory of hands, feet, brow . . heart. Pierced through with love.

I eat. I drink. And I know love again.

Sister Blogs

2012-02-16T06:13:00.001-08:00

I hadn't been at this blogging thing long when I discovered what seems to be an inherent temptation in the blogging world. Comparison.

The temptation to compare is strong whenever someone is pouring themself into something they care deeply about, but what I find unique to blogging is the incredible vulnerability. It feels like walking blindfolded, except instead of not knowing where you're going, you don't know if you got there.

Did my message reach the faceless women I'd hoped it might encourage? Did it make sense? Did anyone even read what I wrote?

Just when I was ready to give up for fear of futility, in came a myriad of devices to confirm my worth and that of my words. Comments. Followers. Email subscriptions. Stats that would tell me how many came, what they read, how they found me, and even where they came from! I was just beginning to feel the wind fill my sails again, when I realized, "Other blogs have these nifty devices too."

SNAP . . I was trapped in the clenching jaws of comparison. I've managed to wrestle my way free time and again, but the temptation is there every time I sit down to read another blog.

As I struggled with this temptation, I wrote:

green monster jealousy and your cousin envy

you puff up and tear down simultaneously in my soul

someone else receives my accolades

why? what is wrong with me?

humming siren songs of pride, purpose, and place

in these uncertain waters

you cast out promises of security and confidence

but what looks like a life ring is really an anchor

dragging

soul

down

deep

into

disillusionment, striving, and fear

drowning, gulping, grappling beneath these waters of comparison

my efforts to speak only result in choking . . slowly . . suffocating my soul

I ask myself, "And why am I doing this?"

green monster, little cousin

you've stolen my purpose, my motive, my heart

keep your cheap praise, your criticism, and condemnation

I'm swimming to dry land and the shores of humility

there my feet find level ground and stability

there I learn from my peers, no longer my rivals

there I create, dream, write, speak

in the clarity and warmth of the sun

goodbye green things

Romans 12:21 says, "Don't let evil conquer you, but conquer evil by doing good." So in light of this admonition and in my determination to conquer comparison, I introduce you to . .

"Sister Blogs"

Beginning next week, every Thursday I am going to share with you one of the amazing women I have met through blogging. These are people who have enriched my life with their words. Their blogs are all unique, and I can't wait to introduce you to them!

My hope and prayer is to create a community here each Thursday where we prefer one another and cheer each other on in a very real and practical way. So be thinking about whose blog you'd like to share and join me next Thursday!

Gentle

2012-02-15T05:55:00.000-08:00

"Your gentleness made me great." ~ Psalm 18:35b

There are few things I wouldn't do for my kids. I get up early, make plans, make meals, clean up, teach, do laundry, settle squabbles, drive across three counties and *states regularly, and facilitate a myriad of activities.

I want greatness for my kids. Not in the sense of superiority, but in the sense of the best they can be. And I know the best takes time. A lot. And sacrifice. Even more.

But gentleness?

In the craziness, gentleness is hardly my frame of mind. At worst, I tend toward loud and harsh. At best, toward controlled and tense.

While making a hurried dinner last night between runs, I opened the microwave and saw my reflection.

It wasn't pretty. Or gentle.

Eyebrows furrowed, face twisted up in a way that made me look . . old. And I wasn't especially mad. Just busy and rushing. Is that what my kids see most of the time? Probably. Ouch.

If gentleness is what makes greatness, I need help.

I'm tempted to be discouraged. How could I love so much, even be willing to sacrifice so much, yet go around looking like the Grinch so much of the time?

But here's my hope. The book of Ephesians says that gentleness is a "fruit of the spirit." It's the result of living from a source that is deeper than myself. Living in the grace and love of God.

"But what happens when we live God's way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard - things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart (gentleness), and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely."

~ Galatians 5:22-23, The Message paraphrase

Affection, exuberance, compassion. Gentleness. I want this fruit. If His gentleness accounts for any greatness in me, then I will put my trust in Him and His ability to produce this fruit in my life.

For the sake of my kids and His greatness.

*Confession: I do live at the border where three states converge, but it's still a lot of driving. Just sayin'.

We celebrated the greatest virtue with the traditional greatest taste yesterday.

A sugar feast.

Courtesy of loving big sister, Emy.

Courtesy of Daddy.

You can already see the sugar coma coming on in Sam's eyes . . ahh, Valentine's Day.

Messy

2012-02-13T07:06:00.000-08:00

"Sounds like someone might be sick," I said to Jeff as he came out of the bathroom. Still lying in bed, I listened trying to determine if I was hearing coughing or vomiting. It got quiet, and I drifted back to sleep. A few minutes later Jeff walked in announcing that Ben was sick and the bathroom floor . . well, you know.

As I rolled out of bed, I said I'd clean it up, and I really didn't mind. After raising six kids, I've wiped enough bottoms, cleaned up enough pukes, bandaged enough wounds, and seen enough of the stuff we try most not to see that it really doesn't gross me out too much anymore. At least not when it's my child.

I cleaned up, and Jeff stood by dutifully ready to fetch anything else I might need. In a few minutes we were done, the wash was running, and I was checking on Ben.

Getting into their mess really doesn't bother me. I'll jump right out of bed to help clean up, whether it's the stomach flu or the troubles of life. Love does pretty amazing things to a person.

A couple weeks ago, Jeff was at work when a co-worker got hit with the same malady before he could make it to the restroom. As Jeff described the incident to me, I was amazed when he told me he'd taken care of cleaning up the mess. (You might be feeling a little sick yourself by now, but bear with me. There's a point here.)

It's one thing to clean up after your own child or even a spouse. But something about coming near that kind of mess when it's someone outside your own family seems at once incredibly gracious and slightly disgusting. I was so proud of my husband. And I made sure he'd showered and put his clothes in the wash.

"In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: who being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to His own advantage; rather,

He made Himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to death

- even death on a cross!" ~Philippians 2:5-8

Jesus washed His friends' feet. And I imagine if they got sick He would have cleaned up their puke too. More than that He entered the disgusting mess of their sin. My sin.

I don't like to identify with other peoples' messes. Especially when it reminds me of my own. It's the kind of stuff we try most not to see. But that wasn't His mindset. Thank God.

He made Himself "nothing" and became a servant. The love He demonstrated not only entered our mess, but took its consequence on Himself and carried it all the way to the cross.

This is the mindset I'm called to copy in my relationships. In all of them, not just for my family. This is a humility I am far from, but I know each day will give me plenty of opportunity to get messy.

May I enter it with His love that redeems and grace that heals.

Counting the ways He's turned my mess into grace . .

12. Sam singing
13. hope as I plan for the future
14. provision
15. surprises
16. more emails from Josh
17. time with old friends
18. call from Daniel
19. courage to step
20. grace from friend
21. the realization of a dream
22. patterns that make me happy
23. reading and laughing with Sam
24. my new notebook
25. Bible reading plan
26. opportunity to show love to Jeff
27. Kraft Mac 'n Cheese
28. steamed broccoli with butter
29. courage to step
30. Words With Friends
31. security of prayer
32. wind
33. still
34. creak of house
35. my boots
36. talk with Debbie
37. time with Ben
38. beauty of submission
39. Jeff's smile wrinkles

Perfect Plans

2012-02-09T05:17:00.000-08:00

This job is bigger than me. I know it's true but somehow keep trying to live like it's not. Keep trying to squeeze it into some form of daily management, neat enough to fit on a piece of paper. But how do you do that when your job is the molding of hearts? When you have no idea if today will bring calm or crisis? It it will fit into your plans or blow them to smitherines?

I've been studying the ancient story of Esther with my friends. If anyone was ever called to a task bigger than herself, she was! An impossible place squeezed in by a pagan culture's traditions and values. External beauty, pride, power, hedonism, and hate all combined for a volatile environment.

But God had a plan. It required amazing courage on Esther's part. She was incredibly vulnerable, but she knew who she was and what she had to do. And she saved an entire culture. To this day, she is celebrated annually by Jewish people in the feast of Purim.

I'm encouraged by the story because, while on most days I'm not facing imminent rejection and death, I do carry a load of responsibility every day that often feels too heavy (picture me cartoon-like flat on the road under a great big boulder). And I know you do too.

We each have our own realms of influence. Our kingdoms. From one day to the next they can enliven us or threaten to suck every ounce of life right out.

But like Esther's story, God has a plan for ours. Impossible circumstances are the perfect ingredients for His work in our lives and the lives of those we love.

I do need to make plans. If I don't plan no one will ever get to basketball, play rehearsal, Bible study, or the dentist; learn math, history, science, and English; or eat half-decent meals and wear clean underwear. But as I plan, my hope needs to remain in the Lord and not get transferred to my plans. That way when the "plans hit the fan" as they so often do, I won't be undone.

Like Esther, you and I are called by God for "such a time as this" in our own kingdoms. This job is bigger than us. But as we walk in courage sustained by faith, we will see God's perfect plan unfold.

And, who knows, we might even get to save a culture . . or at least a few kids.

"The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps." ~Proverbs 16:9

"Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails." ~Proverbs 19:21

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future'." ~Jeremiah 29:11

What are your "kingdoms" . . your realms of influence? What evidence have you seen of God working out His plans in these places?

I love to hear your thoughts. You can comment here, by email, or on Facebook. Thanks for reading!

Linking up with Jen

Groaning

2012-01-20T06:00:00.000-08:00

This week has been hard. Last week was too. And the one before that. Here's a quick rundown (not that you asked).

Three weeks ago we ended our Christmas marathon. My oldest boys, Josh and Daniel, left for Ukraine and Minnesota respectively after a way-too-short two week visit, not to return for four months. My body and emotions were exhausted, and I crashed and burned. I was sick for the rest of the week.

Last week I was faced with the overwhelming "holiday neglect" of my house. All those necessary things I'd put off came at me like a tidal wave. You name it . . bills, laundry, toilets, email, etc. It took almost the whole week to get back on the horse and feel like I'd started to wrangle this chaos into some order. Consequently, I was anticipating this week with high expectations of success.

Then it hit me. Fatigue, flu feelings, and FOG . . brain fog. The kind that makes my thoughts skip and repeat like a broken record. All together it sent me to bed for a day and a half and is still dragging around my ankles as I write.While the physical pain is annoying, the real struggle for me is the inability to create the kind of day I've planned. The way it limits me and feels like it shouldn't be. It doesn't belong.

One of my favorite verses from the Bible is Romans 8:22-25. It says this:

"For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, be we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience."

I like it because it corroborates my reality. It resounds with my own groaning. It affirms what I can't deny . . this life is hard no matter how wonderful it is. It also reassures me this is as it should be.Anyone who's experienced the "pains of childbirth" knows no matter how wonderful the outcome, birthing a baby HURTS!My soul groans, but I'm not alone. All of creation in all its beauty groans with me. Waiting. Waiting. But with sure hope.

This is how The Message expresses these verses:

"All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it's not only around us; it's within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We're also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy."

While the first translation resounds with empathy toward my condition, the Message paraphrase rings with hope. It brings to memory those precious people who were with me during my six labors, encouraging and reminding me of why I could have "joyful expectancy" in the midst of pain.This "enlarging" is uncomfortable for sure. I must adjust my expectations, accept limits, and know that something better is coming as my heart is being prepared.

So may I wait with both hope and patience as the girth of my heart is enlarged.

How is your heart being enlarged through difficulty and pain?

Awake

2012-01-13T05:43:00.000-08:00

Today I'm joining The Gypsy Mama for . .

"For only five short, bold, beautiful minutes. Unscripted and unedited. We just write without worrying if it's just right or not."

Ouch! This was hard, especially the "unedited" part.

She startled me as she walked into the room. The wind had been blowing fiercely. So loud it woke me up. I mentioned to Jeff that it was scary sounding. Laying in bed, trying to catch a few more minutes of sleep. Trying to avoid the revolution of gears in my mind. The days' tasks, concerns. "No, don't think. You still have almost an hour till the alarm goes off." But even the admonition cranked the gears, and it was futile.

There's something strange about waking up and not being able to go back to sleep even when you're tired. I succumb and rise and head toward my coffee.

The creaking of the wind and walls was unnerving for awhile. But the wind settled and so did I. That's when she walked in. The creaking startled me again. I was surprised she was awake so early too. She said she's often up this early but she get's "lonely."

Funny, that's why I love the early morning. Because it's lonely.

Potter's Prerogative

2012-01-12T04:21:00.000-08:00

broken by design

on purpose

destruction deliberate

yet compassionate

to my ignorant eye

pain, heartache, meaningless

to Your all seeing

redemption made real

in the cracks and broken places

the healing begins

wounds and pieces glued back together

with love and truth

parts become whole

cracks made conduits

a vessel of light

it seeps and pours out everywhere

GLORIOUS

edited repost

Soul Food

2012-01-09T13:18:00.000-08:00

My soul is starving. Like that hunger after the holidays when you just want something simple, wholesome to eat. Sugared out, your body craves health. Things like fruit. Fresh. Simple tastes that simply feed your body's true hunger.

In all the revelry of the holidays my soul got stuffed on life. Full of the richness of friends and family and activity and emotion, I'm longing for quiet. Still. Some peace.

But one doesn't come by such commodities easily in my life. In most lives. And I find myself feeling desperate. Scared. Stop the ride, I wanna get off!

I heard him rustling around this morning and hoped maybe he'd decide to let me sleep. But no. He peeled back my mask. The one that smells like lavender and blocks out the light. And helps me hide.

"Let's go get coffee." It's how we've come to start our Mondays. A ritual I usually look forward to.

"I'm scared," I admit. He knows what I mean without explanation. He's so patient. And determined to get me out of bed.

"Coffee will help you be brave. Come on."

I stand up but inside I'm crawling. And begging. "God, help me hear You. Help me be strong."

Jeff's ready to go and waiting. I wash my face. Throw on some clothes. And a quick verse from my daily devotion . .

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."
~Philippians 4:6-7

And my ears are opened.

I hear His strong reassuring voice speaking truth to my soul.

Reject anxiety. The fruit of self reliance. The lot of the loveless. The orphan. Not yours, because you are mine.

Tell Me your needs. I alone am able to order the myriad details of your life, your heart.

And remember all I've done. All the love gifts I've sent. Consider them. Take inventory. Count them even. And give thanks.

Then I feel it.
Peace. Peace! Peace.
This the promise of brave rejection, humble petition, and thanksgiving.

"Oh, what great peace and quietness would he possess who should cut off all vain anxiety and place all his confidence in God." ~Thomas A. Kempis

The ride can rage. My soul is safe and sated. Let in the light.

Taking the Joy Dare. One Thousand thanks-givings in 2012. Join me! Just 3 offerings a day . . do the math and experience the joy!

Here's #1-11 of 1000 . . got a little bit of a late start:
1. Monday morning coffee
2. Jeff's tender, tough love
3. the solace of prayer
4. fellowship of the body
5. strength for the day
6. new recipe that was a hit
7. naps
8. a Christmas tree that's still sucking water
9. the freedom to enjoy it as long as I want
10. second chances
11. a son's love to his momma through emails from the Ukraine FULL of details and photos

Happy New Year

2012-01-01T17:55:00.000-08:00

It's a unique reflection. A whole year at a time. Not the way we usually look back.

Or forward, which I find particularly foreboding.

Reflecting on 2011, I imagine myself one year ago today. Had I known all that was to come, good and bad, I think like Scrooge when faced with Marley's declaration of the three spirits' imminent visits, I would have replied, "I think I'd rather not."

But thankfully, I didn't know. Like all my other years, I lived it one day at a time.

That's a good thing.

Our years are full of joys and sorrows, expected and the un. It would be a burden too great to bear to know ahead all that was to come.

So as I reflect, I enjoy the clarity of hindsight. How it reveals in truth what before was only known by faith.

And I remind myself I will sit here again one year from now making some sense of all that has passed in 2012.

I look back with gratitude and forward with hope.

And begin a New Year.

One thank-full and faith-full day at a time.

Christmas Carols Revisited - 3

2011-12-23T05:18:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling it. That latent yet definite sense of panic that rises in every mom's heart 48 hours before THE day. Reason tells me it will come and go whether every last detail is covered or not (and who cares if they're not). But my emotions and mental "to do" won't shut up.

So I do what I've been doing all season. Since Thanksgiving. I give thanks.

It calibrates my soul.

Anchoring it to truth. And peace. And what my heart knows really matters.

And I hear words like this . .

"He comes to make His blessings flow far as the curse is found."

In the midst of celebrating His birth, I desire peace. And happiness. No harsh words. No tired, bickering children. No tired, grumbling momma. Then I wake up.

This curse. For all my wanting I can't escape it. It stains my soul and too many of my actions. But His blessings flow as far as my sin. Even farther. No wonder the angels said they were bringing good news!

"Pleased as man with men to dwell."

Not to just come and visit. But to take on flesh. Human form. And feel. All our heartache. And joy.

"Deep desire of every nation. Joy of every longing heart."

He is the desire. The longing. The ache that has no name. The hunger that refuses to be filled by anything but Him. The creator unwilling to forsake His lost creation.

"This holy tide of Christmas all others doth deface."

Oh, yes. His clarion call to our culture every twelfth month . . this holy tide. Can you hear it beyond the lights, the gifts, the noise? He's calling you by name.

Inviting you to experience the heart of Christmas.

Him

Christmas Carols Revisited - 2

2011-12-16T05:01:00.000-08:00

Sleep beckoned, but it was too late. My head was already rattling through the day's "to do" list, so I complied and got up before the sun.

For all there was to do, I started the day with coffee and Advent devotions at the table. Sitting there after I'd read, I picked up an orange to fill with cloves.

My friend turned me on to this Christmas tradition. She always had a bowl of oranges and cloves sitting out. I'd stop by to chat and sit there "cloving" with her. Something about it was simple and peaceful during a season where hardly anything is.

So I started cloving. My head argued, but my soul rebutted, hungry for some simplicity and peace before a hectic day.

And as I cloved, I began to pray.

There's always so much to pray for when you stop long enough to do it. Children growing into adults and all that entails provides enough fodder for prayer to make it an occupation. It hurts to watch. Hurts my soul to see them hurt and learn.

And I press the tack I use to make the holes for the cloves into the orange because the skin is too hard and consider.

How thick and tough our hearts can be. We spend a lifetime toughening them up. So we won't hurt.

The juice is sticky and messy, but it smells good. Especially with the cloves. The fragrance is really what I love about this endeavor.

Life is like that. Messy. We imagine it won't be and make our plans to avoid hurt and mess.

But the piercing of hearts can make way for the fragrance of beauty.

This line comes to mind,

"Where meek souls will receive Him still the dear Christ enters in."

Do people get that? That He came to bring peace on earth by healing hearts? That it's not a sappy platitude but a real possibility?

Christmas is an invitation to bring our broken, messy, tough, pierced hearts and be filled with fragrance.

As the cloves' design takes shape so does my prayer.

That life's hurts wouldn't toughen, but rather make meek hearts.

Ready to mix our mess with His fragrance and receive

love.

Christmas Carols Revisited - 1

2011-12-15T08:03:00.000-08:00

The songs of His story are everywhere this season. Calling us back to His gift and truth. I've been trying to listen beyond the music and tunes so familiar they're like the "ABC's." I can sing them without a conscious thought, but this year I'm listening hard to the words.

And I'm astonished at what I might have missed!

The message of love in words so rich, so full of hope, so pregnant with promise. So full of not just a season but a lifetime of joy and peace on earth.

Over the next couple weeks until Epiphany I want to share some of what I'm hearing with you. It's my present to you. I hope you like it.

And I hope something you read here might bring you lasting joy this Christmas season. All the way into your New Years. Thank you for reading.

I felt stuffed walking through Costco last week. It wasn't the food samples that did it to me. I felt consumer stuffed. Picking up the box of glasses I'd planned to buy so we could have matching ones for our table on Christmas day, I felt stuffed. Uncomfortably so. Why did I need to spend $25 to make my glasses match when there were plenty of glasses to drink from at home? Next I looked at the fryer I'd considered buying. It would be so much less mess when we make homemade donuts. But was the mess really such a big deal. Did I need to spend $30 on another kitchen device. And what might $30 do for someone in need?

On it went. Through the book aisle, the CDs, the DVDs, the toys. I'd pick up an item considering it for a gift and ask myself "Really? Why?" And I felt stuffed remembering all the "stuff" already filling our house. Wouldn't it just be forgotten? And how might $8, $10, $15 bring some joy to one hungry in body and spirit.

I remembered the Proverb we'd discussed at Bible study just that morning:

"Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, 'Who is the Lord?' or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God." Proverbs 30:8-9

I think we are in far more danger of the former than the latter. Of disowning Him.

It's been said that if you have food in your refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof overhead and a place to sleep, you are richer than 75% of this world. And if you have money in the bank and your wallet and spare change in your pocket, you are among the top 8% of the world's wealthy.

In our wealth, especially at Christmas, might we disown Him and all His gifts in favor of our own?

Somewhere around the gift basket aisle, overflowing with delicacies, packaged with excess and calories, I hear this tune and these words,

"Come peasant, king to own him."

And I wonder, which one has a better chance of truly owning him.

I LOVE giving gifts! I still plan to. But this Christmas I want to come hungry and walk away from the "table" satisfied with more than stuff. Satisfied with something that will fill my soul beyond the season.

Full of Him.

In case you're feeling stuffed too:

International Justice Mission
Samaritan's Purse
Compassion

Come

2011-12-14T05:17:00.000-08:00

I come with the angels. No purpose but to sing the praises, reveal the glory of Creator come down on His mission of love. Let us adore Him.

I come with the shepherds. Outcast, destitute. Nothing to offer but wonder at One so great and His revelation to me? Let us adore Him.

I come with wise men seeking. Having known this world's treasures, bringing all I have to offer the King. Let us adore Him.

I come with Simeon and Anna. A lifetime of waiting for the promise fulfilled. Hearts rejoicing. Weary bodies at rest. Life's purpose fulfilled. To know the Son of God. Let us adore Him.

I come. Woman, wife, mother. Child. One life. But a life infused with eternity. Because He came, I come.

O, come with me. Let us adore Him.

edited repost

Courage

2011-12-07T12:39:00.000-08:00

"Don't be afraid."

I've said it many times. Heard it too. As a mom, it was one of my first tasks. To reassure my children that I was here, they were safe, everything would be okay.

In the face of a world of fear, maybes, and what-ifs, they are three of the most reassuring words ever spoken.

The angels always started with them, "Do not fear." They must have been a scary specter, but they always came with such good news.

To Mary, "You will bear a child, and He will take away the sin of the world."

To the shepherds, "I bring you good news of great joy . . for today there has been born for you a Savior."

It makes me wonder how many of our natural fears might be the predecessors of great things.

Fear is a funny thing. It can be life saving or life stealing. On the one hand some good common sense can keep us from harm. But I think more often fear tends to steal opportunity and the present moment.

I've learned a lot about fear as a mom. Dealing with my own and teaching my children to deal with theirs.

I've learned about courage too. But in this lesson I have been the pupil.

As I have watched my children fight their fears, overcome obstacles, and pursue their dreams, I have been inspired to follow in their courageous steps.

This blog is the fruit of that lesson. I always loved to write, filled journals with thoughts, and on occasion shared something I'd written with someone close.

But watching my children discover and boldly pursue their passions and gifts challenged me to face my fear and begin writing publicly.

And great things have happened.

No, no bestseller yet. But lots of encouragement from friends and strangers. Most of all, seeing my love for words being used to inspire, comfort, challenge, humor, and encourage others.

"Don't be afraid." Three powerful words.

My daughter, Emily recently entered an original song in a music competition and is a semi-finalist. Em is a dancer, actress, model, and singer/songwriter, and she unabashedly describes herself so. Those are her passions and the places God has gifted her, and she is pursuing them with abandon. I'm blessed by her talent and inspired by her courage.

Would you please vote for her? To hear her song and vote go here and scroll down to the bottom: AMTC Shine Music Competition

Thanks!

Soul Food

2011-12-05T18:59:00.000-08:00

I struggle with a fairly common malady this time of year. It's a strange form of amnesia.

Christmas Carol Amnesia.

It's not that I forget the words. And even though it's a malady, I can still remember the melody (pa-dump . . ha. I couldn't resist.)

The problem is the carols are too familiar. And I forget the message. I find myself hearing sentiments that should rock my world. Have rocked my world. The WHOLE world. But somehow fail to move me. If I even notice them.

"Joy To the World" in the grocery store, and all I'm thinking about is what to make for dinner.

"What Child Is This" on the radio, and I'm just wondering which child didn't take out the trash.

"O Come All Ye Faithful" in the car, and I'm counting up how many are coming for Christmas dinner.

I just counted my Christmas CDs, and there are 44! That's not even including all those in the car and the cassette tapes. The music is one of my very favorite parts of this wonderful time of the year (It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!)

But I'm thinking if I miss the message, I've missed everything. This is what I can't afford to forget.

So Sunday morning in church as we stood to sing "O Holy Night," I listened past the swelling music, the loud voices, and all the way

into

the words.

And this is what I heard,

"Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth."

The soul. Probably the most neglected part of a body.

Soul.

And a whole world screaming so loud, most have no idea of its value.

Your face
Your body
Your brain
Your clothes
Your car
Your friends
Your family
Your job
Your status
Your vacation
Your house
Your furniture

All clamoring to tell us what we're worth. To define us.

But at His appearing it was the soul of a man that found worth.

You. At your core.

"A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn."

I guess so! A new day that is defined not by what I do but who I am.

At the soul.

And then these words in a verse I've never heard,

"The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger; in all our trials born to be our friend. He knows our need, our weakness is no stranger."

That last line. The one about knowing our need sung all stretched out, reaching. (Just like "Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!")

A friend in my trials. Familiar with my weakness. The God of the universe knows my need. And He came down to meet it.

It really was an oh, so holy night.

Remember

2011-12-01T08:53:00.001-08:00

I remember taking care of my first baby doll and what a joy it was.

I remember new school supplies and the anticipation and delight of using them to study.

I remember getting my own room and how much fun it was to clean and organize it.

I remember my first dorm room and how great it was setting up "house" for the first time.

I remember our first apartment and the excitement of getting up at the crack of dawn to cook a hot breakfast for my new husband.

I remember our first Christmas together and loving all the preparation and decoration for our neighborhood open house.

I remember waiting for my new baby to wake up from his nap so I could take care of him.

I remember . . .

choosing

joy

in the face of a lot of hard work.

I didn't know cynicism (that thief).

Could it really be that simple? A matter of choice? A matter of heart?

Of trust?

Of gratitude?

I need to remember.

(I remember Christmas 2002)

it's a good thing

2011-11-30T10:49:00.000-08:00

his mercies are new every morning

it's a good thing. because by the time my head hits the pillow at night, i'm sure i've drained them dry.

something about being supine that lets the troubles of the day just wash over. no vertical stance to defend against, one by one they march across my head. the failures of the day, big and small. the fears too.

so i fall to sleep fearful or fighting. lately my sword is giving thanks. as fast as the fears flood over, i counter with gratitude. it's a strong weapon. you should try it.

but come the morning, his mercies are new. and i'm so glad.

like manna they fall. the day's supply. just as curious a provision. and like their namesake they come with uncertainty . . the literal translation of manna, "what is it?"

"what will I do? how will I do? what is the answer?"

in the face of every circumstance, if i ask and receive, i am supplied.

this is certain.

this morning it came even curiouser.

sleeping in too late, i start the day already behind. in need of a little quiet before a packed schedule commences, i try to distract Sam, the only one up yet, with a book.

he finishes reading just as i sit down to my coffee and an article i hope might feed and strengthen me for the day. my own attempt to make manna.

he suggests we wake everyone else up. "it's too late for them to be sleeping." ignorant of my total exploitation of the the fact that his three teenage siblings would sleep till afternoon if i let them. ignorant of my need for a little peace.

then he asks if i want to play a card game and inside i laugh. his siblings are old enough, in tune enough with my emotional state, to sense when i am overwhelmed. to know better than to ask. not sam.

i'm here. you're here. let's play.

i pause. too long. why does it take so much faith to play cards. to turn away for twenty minutes from the tyranny of the urgent to enjoy my youngest. who won't stay ignorant too much longer. and will know better than to ask me to play cards too late on a weekday morning before i've had my coffee in the face of a packed schedule. and all the other "oh, so important" tasks of the day.

by grace i say yes. we play. he laughs. and sings. and is way too loud and hyper for a late weekday morning only half way through a cup of coffee.

and i feel my soul's hunger sating. and i laugh. and tell him to sing quieter. and look. at his funny face.

"what is it?"

this morning, my manna and his mercy is cards with sammy.

a very good thing.

Transition

2011-11-28T20:07:00.000-08:00

The last couple days have been a strange mix of Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Autumn decor is mixing with Christmas scented candles and leftover Thanksgiving weekend mess. Christmas carols are finally playing after a long, disciplined wait. Don't get me wrong. It's not easy to resist.

I love Thanksgiving.

And I love Christmas!

I love the music, baking, family, parties, lights and anticipation.

(Joe, Christmas 2002)

Thanksgiving is sober. Reflective. Grateful. Noticing.

Christmas is a celebration. The reflection easily lost in the mayhem, but what a party! And as it should be.

I want to create Thanksmas. Or Christgiving. All the reflection and gratitude of the former melded with all the celebration and festivity of the latter. One big long holiday from late November all the way through Epiphany on January 6.

That's kind of what it is anyway. One big long holiday.

Full of gratitude, reflection, celebration and festivity.

And more thanks giving . .

602. a gift from a friend
603. the gift of friendship
604. Emy's music
605. new mercies every morning (Lamentations 3:22-23)
606. revelation
606. safe travel
607. the comfort of old friends

Get the new app and start counting!

Blue Friday

2011-11-25T11:05:00.000-08:00

My idea of "Black Friday" is blue

Enjoying the peace and pondering more "thanks-giving" and this word, eucharisteo, here.

Giving thanks for what I have versus what I want.

Determining to live this season with more gratitude than greed and to help my family find the joy and contentment I am learning.

Praying the contrast between the focus of this holiday and the next might deepen the lesson and that the "giving" part of the word might become our focus this Christmas.

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 30: Just the Beginning

2011-11-24T09:57:00.000-08:00

let us be thankful boys and girls

for eyes and ears and toes and puppies with wet noses
for lessons we have learned and love we have not earned
we follow the beat of amazing grace
o let us be thankful boys and girls

let us be thankful boys and girls
for kisses on the mouth and teenage heartbeats pounding
for lightning in the sky and laughter in the eye
we follow the beat of amazing grace
oh let us be thankful boys and girls

for all that brought us here and all that will see us through
the passageways of life that lead to you, lead us to you

let us be thankful boys and girls
for a little common sense and painted picket fences
when packing up the plans in rented moving vans
we follow the beat of amazing grace
oh let us be thankful boys and girls

let us be thankful boys and girls
for mendelssohn and brahms and shadows growing longer
for years that slowly go and grandkids we can hold
for memories to keep and sorrow running deep
we follow the beat of amazing grace
oh let us be thankful boys and girls

for all that brought us here and all that will see us through

the passageways of life that lead to you, lead us to you

let us be thankful boys and girls
when hope is not enough that death can’t bury love
for wine and bread and hymns remembering again
we follow the beat of amazing grace
oh let us be thankful boys and girls
(Billy Crockett)

Happy Thanksgiving!

436. wind in the valley
437. candles
438. birthday wishes from friends and family
439. my birthday dinner

440. that Jeff made it
441. incredible words of love from my
442. family
443. gifts of books and music
444. and a new USNA scarf from Josh

445. my famous sweet potatoes
446. reading in bed (way too late but always worth it)
447. an entire day devoted to Thanks-giving
448. and the good God who's given me so much to be thankful for
449. Josh's "good morning" hug
450. runners out the door
451. a little quiet
452. Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade
453. time to make more of "my famous sweet potatoes"
454. incredible conversation with Emy
455. beautiful day
456. cousins

457. and football

458. new friends

459. new family

460. feasting

461. laughter

462. devotion

463. call from Daniel
464. all of you who have joined me here over the last thirty days. Thank you so much!
465. more blessings than I can count and a lifetime to keep giving thanks

I'll be back on Monday . . counting and sharing His good gifts. Have a wonderful weekend and Happy Thanksgiving!

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 29: Family

2011-11-23T15:46:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow will undoubtedly be a full day . . in more ways than one. For all the preparation, we often still find ourselves caught off guard.

By life.

In all her beauty. And her mess.

Somehow we imagine she wasn't invited to this feast. Or at least got the memo to dress her best and behave.

This article from The New York Times suggests "A Serving of Gratitude May Save the Day."

Highly recommended, should be required, reading in preparation for tomorrow. And life.

This is something I wrote a couple years ago (tweaked here for the occasion):

The holidays are an interesting mix of anticipation and disappointment.

Joy and sorrow.

Laughter and stress.

This beautiful tender ache.

Our souls hurt and flourish in the being of this place and all its mortals. Friends, sisters, mothers, brothers, fathers, and all of these.

The sin-sick abides with the God image. One moment brilliant with reflection. The next blackened by the deceiver.

War all around. Yet so many blind. Ignorant.

I will laugh. I will cry. I will war.

I will love.

I will give thanks.

407. Wow . . 407!
408. morning sky
409. new sweater
410. driving over the mountain
411. beautiful valley in my rearview
412. good news from a friend
413. God's love and faithfulness through a son
414. great dentist
415. shopping for Chase
416. playing "Thank You" ping-pong with Sam
417. husband who can fix cars
418. good neighbors

419. big sister
420. and cupcake fun

421. simple joys

422. tomorrow

423. Josh's homecoming

424. call from Daniel
425. generous family who are hosting him for Thanksgiving
426. this

427. and THIS

428. plenty to eat
429. moon shine
430. friends
431. counselors
432. family
433. holiday season
434. enough to share
435. courageous men and women defending our country . . thank you

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 28: Thanks Out Loud

2011-11-22T19:02:00.000-08:00

It started early this morning.

The mental racing, quickly followed by the emotional overwhelm.

"How am I going to keep the food hot if we have to leave the house 8 hours before dinner?"

"What time does Josh get home Wednesday?"

"I need to get to the grocery store today, so I can cook tomorrow."

"What was I thinking when I scheduled a dentist appointment the morning before Thanksgiving?"

"We still need to register for the 'Turkey Trot.' Whoever thought of that idea anyway?! 'Thanksgiving day isn't quite busy enough . . let's add a 5 mile race to start it off?'"

It's not even Wednesday, and I'm already tired.

And then I read these words:

"When we feel it in the veins, the stress racing ugly, the speed winding life angry, we were to audibly give thanks. Give thanks right out loud. That was it. It wasn't complicated. It wasn't easy. The great stress intervention - was a straight up injection of gratitude." (read the rest of the article by Ann Voskamp here . . please do!)

Posting each of these 28 days so far hasn't been easy either. I sit down, usually way too late and too tired, and think back over my day of what to give thanks for. Not always feeling very grateful. But always convinced and convicted there is much to count.

But counting on this blog is a walk in the park compared to giving thanks in the middle of stress and anger. This thought ups the ante on this personal challenge I've made in a whole new way.

What a great experiment! What an opportunity! What will my kids think when they see me giving thanks out loud when moments before I was ready to lose it? This could be fun!

I'm game! You?

And I'm so excited about the new FREE One Thousand Gifts app from Zondervan. Another way to start counting! Check it out here.

Practicing for the "great stress intervention" . .

379. Emy's piano playing floating through the house
380. Sam screaming with delight over the dog trying to drag his slipper off his foot
381. his passionate pleading when I said to stop
382. learning to lighten up and enjoy instead of police life in my home
383. smell of breakfast sausage
384. and how it brings back memories of mornings at my great grandparents' house
385. Jeff
386. and his hugs
387. Ben
388. and his quirky sense of humor
389. Emily
390. and her female camaraderie in this sea of testosterone
391. Joe
392. and his eyes
393. and the way he has loved music since he was a baby
394. Sam
395. and his indomitable spirit
396. Josh
397. and his devotion to all of us
398. Daniel
399. and his enthusiasm for knowledge
400. my new pin

401. being an original (and copywritten)
402. One Thousand Gifts app (read the first chapter of the book here)
405. this post at Emy's blog
406. discovering that I love turnips

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 27: Say "Thank You"

2011-11-21T21:19:00.000-08:00

Say "thank you."

I must have said it a thousand times. That and "say please."

Not long after we teach our children to say "momma" and "daddy," to wave hello and bye-bye, we teach them to say "thank you."

To give thanks.

Why? Perhaps it's because we recognize how fundamental gratitude is to relationship.

We establish relationship. Presence. Then thanks.

Jesus thought saying thank you was important too. The book of Luke (chapter 17, verses 11-19) tells a story of Him healing ten lepers.

And in doing so, giving them back their lives.

Their personhood and all the relationships they were ostracized from . . father, mother, siblings, friends.

Presence and the ability to be in someone else's. Someone to welcome. "Hello." And someone to say goodbye to. For just a time, instead of forever.

But one. Only one returned to say "thank you."

I think he's the one who was really healed. Not just skin deep. The evidence of a deeper healing was his effort. He came back. His soul had to express. To acknowledge and give back. To give thanks.

And Jesus asked him where the other nine were. Why didn't they come back to say thanks?

He knew that giving thanks brings things full circle. Brings the giver and the recipient into full relationship. And that was why He came. Relationship.

Such a simple thing.

"Thank you."

For . . .

352. beauty

353. and how she calls me mom

354. my friend Jodi and her wonderful blog Curious Acorn
355. Emy's love for her brothers

356. a day in Old Town with my parents
357. our library

358. kids who love books

358. coffee love

359. Italian sodas
360. brothers
361. and chess

362. shutterbugs

363. the way the boys get so affectionate when they like what I'm making for dinner

364. Polar Express

365. red licorice

366. and hot tamales

367. "thin places" and this post (click here for some beautiful thoughts on thanks giving)

Ben's giving me a hand tonight . .

368. basketball

369. showers

370. music

371. my dog

372. books

373. "Black Ops"

374. family

375. Thanksgiving food

376. my sister

377. laughter

So say . .

378. "thank you"

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 26: Even When It Stinks

2011-11-20T18:17:00.000-08:00

I washed my face with Eau de Stinkbug this morning.

Apparently one was hiding out. When I smothered my face in a nice hot washcloth, I was greeted with his scent. I guess he didn't appreciate the steam bath I gave him. That's okay 'cuz I didn't appreciate his scent under my nose.

So I suppose we're even.

That has nothing to do with giving thanks. Except that it made for a good laugh. For Jeff.

And to remind me to give thanks all the time. Even when it stinks.

So if you can't think of anything to give thanks for today, you can be thankful that you didn't wake up like I did. And maybe for a good laugh too.

You're welcome.

326. all the mornings my nice hot washcloth smelled good

327. anticipating Daniel coming home

328. dressing fine with Papa

329. our church Emmaus

330. giving thanks and feasting with them today

331. that it takes twenty minutes to leave

332. the love of friends

333. a cancellation and unexpected space in our day

334. football

335. grey sky

336. drifting in and out of consciousness on the couch

337. smell of leaves

338. stillness of cows in the pasture

339. a husband who loves God

340. a few minutes today . .

341. and a week off work to spend together

342. an empty house

343. God's kindness

344. and mercy

345. the cross & salvation

346. grace

347. hope

348. His promise

349. His favor

350. His love

351. everything He's done for me

There are just a few more days before Thanksgiving, and I have an idea.

I know many of you have found me through Facebook, and I am really thankful you've visited! Why not post something(s) you're thankful for on your wall today and each day through Thursday? If you do, would you please post it on my wall too? I'd love to hear from you!

Giving thanks is contagious, and what a great thing to catch! So "sneeze" your thanks all over the internet. Maybe we'll start an epidemic.

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 25: Incognito

2011-11-19T21:45:00.000-08:00

301. chatting in bed

302. encouragement from my hero
303. strong coffee
304. another cup
305. morning buzz in the kitchen
306. more basketball
307. cranberry cakes

308. dirty dishes and sunshine

309. Celebrating a grandnephew's birth . .

310. a wonderful girl's birthday . .

311. and my brother-in-law's too!
312. Daniel's first Minnesota snow

312. reuniting with old friends
313. making new ones
314. cousins
315. hot tea
316. tucking boys in to cozy flannel sheets

But I know not everyday is a party.

I think the most misunderstood thing about gratitude, thanks giving, is that it's only for the good stuff.

This part of my list is dedicated to things I am truly grateful for. Bad things that have touched my life or the life of someone I love.

And made us better.

317. heart attacks
318. illness
319. death
320. betrayal
321. break ups
322. depression
323. troubled teens

324. this song

325. His mercies in disguise

XO
~Kim

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 24: Thankful (in everything)

2011-11-18T19:07:00.000-08:00

I just erased half my post. After working on it for almost an hour.

AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!

Is screaming complaining?!

"In everything give thanks; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."
~I Thessalonians 5:18

Really?

Okay, thank you (low groan). It's not always easy.

Today has been a normal day. Busy. I'm tired and uninspired. But thankful.

Especially because I am seeing things I wouldn't have otherwise.

If I wasn't deliberately looking and giving thanks.

Even on normal, busy, tiring and uninspiring days.

Having a hard time giving thanks? Check out this video.

277. words
278. waking to sunshine
279. Jeff
280. Josh
281. Daniel
282. Emily
283. Ben
284. Joe
285. Mom
286. Dad
287. that I get to spend today with six of them
288. a visual history of my dad's life through photos posted on Facebook . . thanks, Trish!

So cute!

At Brooklyn Heights Park (he's the little gangsta' in the middle).

"Up On the Roof" of their Brooklyn apartment with his dad and two of his sisters. They used to celebrate up there . . too cool!

Em's helping me out today. She's thankful for . .

289. piano
290. Mandisa CD
291. Joe
292. Ben's laugh
293. stacks of books
294. writing new songs
295. tape
296. shiny stickers
297. Petey
298. boys' shoes all lined up
299. Ben's excitement when getting ready to play a basketball game
300. Van Gogh's "The Harvest"

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 23: Pages

2011-11-17T19:53:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I gave thanks for the book Kisses From Katie. It is the story of a young woman, just 22 years old now, who went to Uganda after she graduated from high school. She established a ministry to help Ugandan children and became mommy to 14 little girls.

I took away so much from this book, but what impacted me most was the gratitude that overflowed from Katie's heart onto the pages of her story. I read it electronically, so I searched the word thanks and its derivatives and found 82 instances of its use in just 264 pages. Ironic. In her book she describes scene after scene of filth, poverty, disease, and heartache. Each one worse than the last.

Yet each horrible instance provided a stark backdrop for love to be displayed.
And for thanks giving.

Might thanks and all its derivatives likewise mark the pages of our lives.

"It is a blessed thought, that from our childhood God has been laying His fatherly hands upon us, and always in benediction; that even the strokes of His hands are blessings, and among the chiefest we have ever received."
~H.E. Manning, Daily Strength for Daily Living

Marking my pages . .

254. peace in the morning
255. grey day
256. books
257. and candles

258. Mom & Dad's arrival
259. and with it the beginning of the season
260. Joe getting it
261. if His eye is on the sparrow . .

262. Katie's story (again)
263. beans and cornbread
264. cooler weather
265. and my favorite slippers

266. clean sheets
267. a call from a friend
268. timely words
269. feeling little
270. and less than
271. but enough
272. a son asking how he can pray for me
273. a patient husband
274. Em's middle school Bible study
275. never being bored
276. bedtime

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 22: A Dialogue With God

2011-11-16T19:46:00.000-08:00

Meet me here
where heart beats with hope
and life looks bright

I'll meet you here
where hope prevails
even in darkness of night

Meet me here
where I pat my own back
for all I've accomplished

I'll meet you here
where My arms surround
though your day was fruitless

Meet me here
in the midst of my plans
for good times and laughter

I'll meet you here
where plans dissolve into tears
and My peace flows after

Meet me here
where loved ones surround
and make life feel secure

I'll meet you here
where heart aches lonely
but My presence is sure

Meet me here
where I'm strong in mind,
spirit, and speech

I'll meet you here
where weakness mutes words
and My strength is increased

Meet me here
where joy is abundant
and life is worth living

I'll meet you here
where despair overwhelms
and you meet Me in thanksgiving

Meet me here
wherever life takes me
for You I'll be waiting

I'll meet you there

"Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" ~Job 2:10

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future'." ~Jeremiah 29:11

"Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? If I go up to the heavens, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, You are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, 'Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,' even the darkness will not be dark to You; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to You." ~Psalm 139: 7-12

Meeting Him in thanksgiving . .

232. weekend away with Jeff

233. beauty of creation . . God's

234. and man's

235. Ebenezers Coffeehouse

236. love

237. lifelong friendships
238. and dinner
239. this story: Kisses from Katie
240. reunion with a dear friend
241. and her adorable boys
242. a day off
243. surprises
244. the freedom in knowing I'm just a stroke in His painting
245. and how that's just enough
246. wise counsel
247. time alone
248. Christmas decorations in the mall
249. Apple's warranty and a new iPad for Em
250. how she makes me laugh
251. boys' Bible study
252. and boys who ask to go
253. pizza with Sam and Jeff

Thirty Days of Thanks - Days 19, 20, & 21: Catching Up

2011-11-15T18:36:00.000-08:00

Seeing how I have 78 things to give thanks for, I'm not going to spend a lot of time explaining my absence the last few days. I'll just say this, reliable internet is NOT a good reason to move to the country.

Over the last 21 days, many of you have shared your experiences with giving thanks. So I begin my thanks today with your words, for which I am very thankful.

154. [Counting] has opened my eyes to the many gifts God gives us daily
155. Counting is transforming my life.
156. A heart beats with a pulse of thankfulness . . counting is making that pulse stronger.
157. I love this gratitude practice. It's changed my life.
158. I am close to 400 with my counting.
159. I am continually surprised at how my outlook has improved since making a list of things I am grateful for. The simplest seemly mundane things take on new life and appreciation. Such joy!
160. I was amazed at how much closer [counting] brought me to God, through recognizing His blessings and giving Him the credit for those, I felt His encompassing presence surrounding and comforting me.

Thank you to all those who shared. I hope many of those reading are inspired by your testimonies to begin counting and giving thanks. It really is transforming! Here's a link to help you get started: Gratitude Journal

At the beginning of this personal challenge I mentioned I might enlist the help of my family as the days' "count" grew greater.

The time has come.

So from Jeff, when asked what he is thankful for . .

161. You (as in me :D)
162. hot chocolate on a cold day
163. house scented with food when I come in
164. fresh basil (I did not know he liked basil)
165. a date with my wife
166. drive in the country
167. beauty of outdoors
168. child's laugh
169. yard art
170. work
171. rest
172. massage
173. human touch
174. farmer's market
175. roosters crowing
176. car that starts

And Ben . .

177. bacon
178. basketball
179. chocolate milk
180. my mom
181. sleep
182. friends

From Sam . .

183. video games
184. candy
185. whipped cream
186. ice cream (I see a theme developing)
187. strawberry milkshakes (yep, definitely)
188. cereal
189. my friends
190. dogs
191. pie
192. books
193. cherries
194. my Bible
195. Big Bear

And Joe . .

196. my family
197. music
198. all our friends
199. hardships I've had to go through
200. books
201. church
202. Bible studies
203. sports
204. the Bible
205. that Jesus died on the cross for us

And Em . .

206. colorful mugs
207. candles
208. eggs
209. Ben
210. dance class
211. pointe shoes
212. grapes
213. clean feeling after a shower
214. the way dirt glitters on the sidewalk
215. pillows
216. sparkly eye shadow
217. water bottle
218. clean water
219. Ben's hair in the morning
220. Sammy's laugh
221. Joe's guitar playing
222. visiting with Kisha
223. Tino's curly red hair
224. Toy Story 3
225. Food Lion
226. Blue Ridge Studio
227. House of Light
228. sweatpants
229. music box
230. tutus
231. stretching

Thanks, guys!

I'll be back tomorrow with more of my thanks!

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 18: Be Right Back

2011-11-12T18:51:00.000-08:00

Enjoying an extended date and night away with my hubby. Will be back tomorrow with "extended" thanks :)

Keep counting!

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 17

2011-11-11T18:42:00.000-08:00

"Let them give thanks to the Lord for His unfailing love and His wonderful deeds for mankind, for He satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things." ~Psalm 107:8-9

137. quiet morning
138. cranberry cake
139. little brothers snuggled in bed with Josh
140. Bible study
141. cozy fire
142. friends to listen
143. feeling at home
144. words of truth
145. leftovers for lunch
146. time to teach
147. Josh's help
148. homemade chicken noodle soup
149. sharing good books
150. clean towels
151. an hour of quiet while Jeff takes the boys out
152. clean towels
153. chai tea

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 16: Small

2011-11-10T19:57:00.000-08:00

This day has been a small one

I feel small

Barely

hardly

up to the tasks

this life

in front of me

But You say

don't despise

the day

of small things

So with

small faith

I take

small steps

with a

small hope

that something

some small things

may over time

become

some

thing

big

Trusting in God and offering

small thanks . .

121. dance of steam off my cup of tea

122. flicker of flame

123. comfort of heat

124. skeleton trees

125. shiny, grey clouds

126. stillness

127. a hug

128. a meal

129. a word

130. a verse

131. that convicts

132. and hopefully leads to change

133. a son coming home

134. meatloaf

135. mashed potatoes

136. laughter around our table

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 15: Pay Attention

2011-11-09T12:02:00.000-08:00

"I doubt there is such a thing as a measure of spirituality - but if there is,

gratitude would be it.

Only the grateful are paying attention.

They are grateful because they pay attention,

and they pay attention because they are so grateful."

~M. Craig Barnes, The Pastor as Minor Poet, quoted by Douglas Wilson, quoted by Ann Voskamp (quoted by me)

What a delightful circle of cause and effect. As opposed to the vicious circle of complaining and discontent.

I don't need to look far, when I learn to give thanks for everything. The thanks-giving reveals blessings otherwise hidden.

And gratitude invades my heart.

106. dirty dishes
107. and food to eat
108. clothes on the floor
109. and all the boys that wear them
110. balls, video games, shoes everywhere
111. and the energy that makes this house buzz
112. more books than time to read
113. and minds capable of learning
114. steps on the stairs that interrupt my quiet
115. and give me a chance to share it with Joe . . just the two of us
116. his smile when we're done
117. and "I love you, Mama"
118. a "to do" list that grows faster than it shrinks
119. and all the people in my life "to do" for
120. this list and how it makes me pay attention

Thanks to the readers who shared their thanks in the comments. I apologize to you who had trouble posting and have included those who contacted me via Facebook in the drawing. And the winner of One Thousand Gifts is . . . Barbara!

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 14: Drudgery & Dishes

2011-11-08T15:54:00.000-08:00

"When I write about what I believe and how I should live, it sounds neat and orderly. When I try to live it out, all hell breaks loose."

I came across this quote by one of my favorite authors, Philip Yancey, last night. It expresses so well how I feel about writing and speaking. It's easy, even fun, to package life in hindsight into neat lessons, shiny truths, funny or dramatic stories.

The hard part is living forward.

While hell hasn't broken loose yet, I am on the uphill part of this thirty day challenge. My emotions are balking. Not accustomed to being denied their daily ration of complaining, they're putting up a fight that makes a toddler's tantrum look tame.

This morning I woke to a barrage of negative thoughts before I could even wipe away the night's blur. Laying there wishing for the sweet escape of sleep, I pleaded with God to help me out. And He did.

With a hug. Two.

First, an electronic one.

An email from an old friend who lives in China now. Susan saw my Facebook post inviting friends to join me in "Thirty Days of Thanks." She shared it with her daughter Rachel, who decided to take up the challenge.

As I read Rachel's beautiful blog, "Watercolor World," I was blessed to tears to see her thanks-givings. This one especially resonated:

"Today is one of those days when I’m feeling drudgery instead of thanks. Nothing specifically “bad” happened, I just don’t “feel” inspired to work with diligence and joy. And this attitude is wrong. In Ecclesiastes 7:14 it says, “When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider: God has made the one as well as the other. Therefore, a man cannot discover anything about his future.” If this is true then I know that today has a purpose, it should not be wasted on self pity and a bad attitude. So right now, at 6:20 pm, I am going to make a conscious decision to trust God with the rest of this day. Not to pre-judge my evening but instead to give thanks for it. So this brings me to my 6 thanksgivings for today . . "

Please visit Rachel's blog. In addition to her thanks, she posts beautiful photos, and yummy recipes. I think you'll really enjoy it!

And the second hug was a song: Dirty Dishes, by Scotty McCreery (I voted for him on American Idol. The only vote I've ever voted. He won . . just sayin')

Get your tissues and watch it here.

God really is the perfect father. He knows best how to deal with toddlers. And tantrums. His hugs calmed me down. Helped me take a deep breath. And see how giving thanks doesn't need my emotions.

If I can give thanks "when I'm feeling drudgery" and for "Dirty Dishes," thirty days might not be long enough for all I have to say thank you for.

92. surprised by love
93. Sam's first bball practice
94. his enthusiasm (that in my opinion makes up for all he lacks in skill ;)
95. Joe's first bball practice
96. a coach who drafted his team by looking for good attitudes
97. opportunity for Em to record her music
98. killing time at a bookstore with Joe
99. breakfast at Cracker Barrel . . can anyone say "Sunrise Sampler!!!!"
100. taking turns telling Emy all we love about her
101. plowing thru my "to do" list
102. dirty laundry
103. our washing machine
104. coffee shop time waiting for Ben (who is also playing bball)
105. meeting this guy there

Since I posted so late yesterday, I've decided to keep the book giveaway open for this post as well. If you'd like a chance to win Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts, please leave a comment below sharing some of your thanks-givings. I will close the giveaway when I post tomorrow (which could be any time of day), and randomly select the winner. Thanks for sharing!

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 13: Full of His Faithfulness

2011-11-07T13:31:00.000-08:00

"Trust in the Lord, and do good; dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness." ~Psalm 37:3

There's something inherently reciprocal in the idea of befriending. It's not a one way deal. Rather it is full of the promise of receiving the special joy and security of friendship.

The word translated here as "befriend" comes from the Hebrew word ra ' ah. It's also translated as "feed."

" . . feed on faithfulness."

"Feed" implies provision from another source. Like an animal or baby is fed. There is a dependency. And a generosity. A stronger, benevolent caring for a weaker one. And what is being offered?

Faithfulness.

While the reciprocity of faithfulness in a relationship is understood, its raw power is demonstrated when it ceases to be reciprocal. When one of the parties betrays the other, and the betrayed stays true. Faithful.

"For if we are faithless, He remains faithful." ~2 Timothy 2:13

Giving thanks day by day, more each day, is making me pay very close attention to my day and God's faithfulness throughout (and I'm not even halfway to thirty).

As I befriend faithfulness, a deep sense of joy, the kind that isn't vulnerable to circumstances and emotion, is settling into my spirit. And that feels secure.

And as I feed on His faithfulness, I am acutely aware that His goodness isn't dependent on mine. Even when my faith fails, His remains. And goes on.

And so I keep saying thank you.

For . .

79. His invitation to be filled with His faithfulness
80. our church body
81. the way music draws us closer to Him
82. testimonies shared
83. beauty from ashes
84. victory from defeat
85. the power of story
86. lunch at "Five Guys" with my five guys
87. hiking the Appalachian Trail

88. for Jeff's birthday

89. this song . . "as the mountains guard the valleys so my heart is watched by you"

90. sons who call home and honor their dad not just on his birthday

91. my man . . 51 and going strong

Last Friday, I encouraged you to take inventory of God's blessings in your life. If you'd like to share what you found, please comment below. I will be randomly choosing one name from those who comment to receive a copy of Ann Voskamp's beautiful book, One Thousand Gifts.

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 12: Still Counting

2011-11-06T18:39:00.000-08:00

"Oh give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, for His steadfast love endures forever!" ~Psalm 107:1

67. strong coffee on an early morning after a late night
68. the last football game of the season
69. and the beginning of basketball
70. healthy boys
71. exploring small towns
72. and lunch with Em
73. these precious words from my daughter: "You're my mommy and my friend. I love you so much."
74. a heart-to-heart with Ben
75. and watching him choose what's right even though it's hard
76. bowling, movies, and friends
77. watching "Beauty & the Beast" with Sam
78. an extra hour

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 11: Paradigm Shift

2011-11-05T15:59:00.000-07:00

Emy and I live in different stratospheres. Operate from opposite paradigms. Speak different languages.

When she asked earlier this week about having some friends over to celebrate her birthday with a bonfire, I said sure. "Some" friends. I picture a handful. Five, maybe six. Anything more would be a crowd. Way too much social obligation for me.

But that's my paradigm. I should know better by now.

So yesterday morning when I asked Em how many friends were coming over so I could plan dinner, she replied "Um, it's around twenty-five now. But I haven't heard back from everyone yet."

(insert calm, relaxed, Lamaze breathing noise)

I'm learning through all this thanks-giving to appreciate things I'd otherwise grumble about. As I deny myself the indulgence of complaining, I'm forced to reevaluate my circumstances.

And I'm seeing much to be thankful for.

56. 17 years with my girl
57. her beautiful world
58. her immense capacity for relationships
59. her generous heart
60. how her life is a testimony to His love
61. celebrating her with Bible study friends and cupcakes

62. party of ~~five~~ twenty-five

63. helping hands
64. red wine
65. so many friends, old and new
66. learning to love bigger

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 10: Closet Cleaning

2011-11-04T15:01:00.000-07:00

I learned to stay out of malls as a newlywed.

Considering I worked in one it wasn't easy. At first it seemed like a dream job. A beautiful gift shop full of things our young budget could not afford. But at least I could look. And if I got to wrok early or stayed late, I could walk around the mall and look at the stores and all the other pretty things I couldn't afford.

It wasn't long till the enjoyment of "window shopping" faded. "Window shopping" . . what a joke. "Let's go window shopping." Code for "We don't have any money, so let's go look at all the things we can't have." Sounds fun.

One day Jeff challenged me, "If you can't walk out of the mall as content as you walked in, you need to stay out." And so I did.

I also started cleaning out my closet. I went to work polishing belts, shoes, ironing clothes, putting outfits together, taking inventory.

As I began caring for and enjoying what was mind already, I discovered a new appreciation for my belongings, and my contentment increased.

Today is day ten of "Thirty Days of Thanks." Over the last week and a half the traffic here on my blog has increased a lot! As a blogger that's exciting. As a writer it's wonderful. Writing into cyberspace can be intimidating, since you don't know who's listening. If anyone's listening. So thank you so much for reading and for your encouraging comments!

But I hope you aren't just reading. I pray you are counting. Counting and giving thanks for the specific ways God is blessing you each day. If you're not, you're going to get annoyed.

Annoyed. Or depressed. Or angry. Definitely discontent. Not because my life is "all that," but because reading about how God is showing His love to someone else without considering how He's loving you is like window shopping.

So if you haven't already, please go check out your "closet" this weekend. And one by one start counting, and enjoying, and thanking God for the gifts you find.

And on Monday would you consider sharing with me and the others reading here what you found? For those new to blogs, you just click on "Comments" and post at the bottom of the page that comes up.

As an extra incentive for your search, I'm going to be randomly choosing someone who comments to receive a copy of the New York Times bestseller, One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp.

Happy hunting!

46. bacon
47. words of faith and insight spoken by the kids
48. praying together for friends and family
49. how Sam's smile and laugh can make even playing the card game "War" un-monotonous
50. Ben helping Joe with math (Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell together in unity. ~Ps 133:1)
51. strong hands, a sore back, and lavender oil
52. an hour and a coffee shop
53. Ben's first basketball game
54. great coaches and men in my boys' lives
55. skyping with Daniel!

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 9: Focus

2011-11-03T06:45:00.000-07:00

I am very happily married.

No, it's not perfect. But I am so happy. Content. Thankful.

In the days leading up to our wedding, I could find no fault in Jeff. And God help the person who tried to tell me otherwise. Of course I knew he wasn't perfect, but it sure felt like he was. I minimized his faults and maximized his strengths.

But sometime in that first year, the faults began to annoy me and threaten my ideal of blissful, wedded life. And my focus shifted. As I put his faults under a microscope, studying them, complaining about them, and strategizing how to "fix" them, my discontent increased. I practically forgot about the multitude of things I loved about him.

And then a wise older woman, a happily married woman, shared something with me that challenged me and has had a huge impact on my contentment and happiness in marriage.

She said when you are feeling discontent and unhappy with your spouse, when your "prince" doesn't seem quite so charming anymore, make a list of all the things you love, admire, and are grateful for about him. Then read the list to yourself out loud every day for a month. And watch your attitude change.

It worked! And has worked many times over almost twenty-five years.

Because it's just a matter of focus.

Life is like that.

Somedays this list seems silly. Almost sickly sweet . . Pollyanna-ish. Thanking God for things that on most days most people, including me, wouldn't think twice about.

But that's the thing. When I don't notice and focus on all the good, my attention turns to the bad. And I forget. How good God is, how much He's given me, how much He loves me.

This counting makes me pay attention. It makes me look for God's good gifts. The daily ones that I'd otherwise miss. And when I look, I always find. More than I knew was there.

And His good gifts remind me again that I am so well loved and cared for.

"Only when we acknowledge God as the gracious provider of general blessings, like life and breath, food and shelter, do we begin to comprehend our need for God in a personal way and begin to express faith in Him. Faith grows in the soil of thankfulness." ~James McDonald, Lord Change My Attitude

Getting down in the dirt . .

37. Jeff (and hot chocolate)

38. his patience

39. his support

40. his love

41. his smile (and "caveman food")

42. Yoki's "happy marriage making" wisdom

43. this road

44. this sunset

45. this boy

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 8: Consuming Fire

2011-11-02T14:11:00.000-07:00

Like Pentecost
Tongues of fire alight top trees

Blazing red
Orange enflaming
Broad grey backdrop
Sky

But this fire burns downward
And in

Tips of leaves like wicks
Flicker of a flame
That consumes
And grows
Until

It EXPLODES

Wind swept leaves
A fire that flies
All the while singing

GLORY!

Like Pentecost

Consume me

Until like leaves
My tongue sings
An endless song of thanks

And glory flies . .

29. Stars out in the early morning sky
30. Watching the day wake up
31. Morning mist over the valley
32. Sunrise over the Blue Ridge Mountains
33. Our dentist
34. Dental insurance
35. Lunch at a burger joint with my famished boys
36. Learning to find rest even in the crazy

Thirty Days of Thanks - Day 7: Humbled

2011-11-01T15:56:00.000-07:00

I'm finding it's pretty impossible to give thanks and complain at the same time. One or the other crowds the other out, and I have to choose which attitude to wear.

Giving thanks for . .

22. How this thanks-giving makes me more aware of my grumbling. And it feels bad . . for that I'm thankful
23. For the word “sorry,"
24. and how my kids forgive me as many times as I say it
25. My friend who supports me, challenges me, and dreams big
26. The gracious ladies I got to speak with today
27. Me and the boys getting to see a dead bear up close (it's a guy thing)
28. Quick, easy dinners after long days