Baring All My Weakness

I once called my parents from children's camp to come pick me up, two days into the trip. I felt sad and overwhelmed at being apart from them; alone for the first time--it was the first trip my older sister didn't go on, too, since she had graduated to the camp for the next age level. For a long time, looking back, I chalked it up to emotional immaturity--the same kind that led me to spend too many days in my 4th grade year, calling home to be picked up because I "didn't feel good"; calling my parents in the middle of the night from a slumber party to come and get me; having other moments where being away from those closest to me made me feel pressed with unease, deeply longing for a return to the familiar. 

The Hubbs is on a business trip. Sounds simple enough; except that it's his first and his new company is, shall we say, far more of a presence and a force than his old. Not a bad thing. But his days have been 12 hours long and his nights have been punctuated by networking and dinners and our talk time has gotten pushed back and I've gotten impatient and down and then the being apart becomes more than just physical.

There are so many facets to this and it is too easy to label and oversimplify the obvious. For example: Yes, absence makes the heart grow fonder but when you bind yourself to someone for a lifetime, sometimes absence stretches that bond to the point of pain. Yes, what doesn't kill me will only make me stronger…that means very little and comforts nothing when you sit on your bed, unable to sleep and just ache to feel his arms around you. Yes, there are deeper issues of trust and control swirled in like unwelcome guests at a party--but how do you practice and learn discipline when sorting laundry feels like running a 5K?

Don't get me wrong, I can admit that there are some things I need to work through. But it's a tangled rat's nest of logic and reason and emotion and all of it seems both justified and unwarranted.  God uses the circumstances of my life to teach me what it means to draw my comfort from Him; to know that when I feel weak / am weak, then He is strong. I just wish the lesson would sink in. He keeps holding me to the fire, dross stubbornly clinging to my spirit and I wish it would just burn away so I can rest in His peace and move on.

It's funny how you grow up and one day you're in your thirties--how the hell did that happen? And you still feel like an immature 11-year old at being left alone.  I just feel like a weak fool. But it keeps coming back to my heart, this idea of our weakness and God's strength. His strength is perfected in my weakness. I have a weakness. And the remedy is to cling to Him who is strong; who can make me strong because I just need to be real and open about my weakness.  He who knows my heart knows anyway. Why do I feel like I need to put on a brave face?  

I'm not going to stuff how much I hate being apart from my husband. I'm not going to "try to do better." I will admit that I am weak in this. But I trust that God will make me strong because I just can't do it alone. I cannot make it through the day on my own power. I need just enough strength for each step, Jesus. And You have that in abundance--grace, too. Your grace is abundant for me. It's a good thing, too, because without those, I'm a mess. 

None of this is to suggest that I'm just going to curl up in a ball underneath my bedspread and wallow in self-pity until Hubbs is back. I will still take Kiddo to school and therapy and will still do laundry and dishes and cook--well…let's not go too far. :)  I will spend time with friends. I won't feed my sadness and succumb to waves of despair that drag me out into a sea of debilitating depression. I will stand in the waves in the strength of my Savior and my God. Because His strength is firm and strong and can withstand those waves. 

Having "proper perspective" doesn't always make us FEEL better. Sometimes, it's enough to know that He knows that we feel like crap and will hold us through it. 

Blessing

Emotions are untrustworthy things. We feel them based on things that are, sometimes, not even real. How is an emotion based on something make-believe even valid? Why do our minds and bodies respond as though something real just happened when, in actuality, all that's occurred is made-up?

But then there are those cases where there is no imagined situation, but a real one and our emotions startle in response. What then? I still hold that they--the emotions--are not to be trusted. They often blind us from the spirit of what's really going on.

So we're left with the work of dissecting our emotions; looking for causes; considering courses of action; throwing away what is not needed. And it is work. It is hard work. Dissecting emotions while in the centrifuge of feeling them would have to be. You're spinning, quite out of your own control, pushed down by the gravity of discouragement, quite literally, depressed.

In addition to hunting origins and making choices, you must also find a fixed point on which to focus so you don't lose yourself in the dizzying force of the uncontrolled spin. And that fixed point can get lost in the blur. So you keep searching and re-searching. And it's.hard.work.

At the end of an emotional day, aren't we all just looking for the spinning to slow; to stop? And there are times when we, ourselves, create the whirl--as in an imagined event. So stopping it is to remember the truth; the reality. When the carousel begins because of real events already outside of our control, stopping it is not necessarily up to us. And that fixed point becomes even more important.

The best fixed points are always centered right in front of us; the truths we base our lives on; the priorities we set for ourselves.  Working through an emotional rough patch causes me to look diligently for God.

So I went back to those fixed points in the past couple of days; the thanking I'd set out to make my habit; the Words I know Christ meant for my heart on hard days; the getting-up and trudging-through because trudging is still moving--even if it's in my sweat pants and Crocs.

There were some extras--some grace-gifts that I credit to my Father because they were tailored to the person that I am: cleaning out my inbox, blog after blog of those I follow, spoke words of encouragement to the discouraged; practical to-do's for when happiness is hard to find; daily verses with the peace of God powering their message.

And I am blessed. I remembered weighty words from a woman who has fast become my favorite author; a sister in Christ for whom I have so much respect: "I am blessed: I can bless: So this is happiness..."

What am I doing to bless? To encourage? Is it pompous to consider myself an encourager? Is it uncharacteristic? It is if I don't make it my daily...no...my moment-by-moment ministry. Less focus on me and more focus on others; isn't that how we love Jesus best? By loving others?

Jesus, help me to pour out so that You may be glorified. Fill me up when I am empty so that I may pour out again and again and again; never empty, never lacking in love, never overlook an opportunity to bless someone else.

The Thanks That Proves The Blessing

1--Valentines; Roses; Hearts

2--Hayden's Letters; Notes to Live By; The Father's Words

3--Expression; Encouragement; Spiritual Discipline

4--Missing baubles; A pot to cook in; A glass of iced tea

5--My heart stitched to his; nails hammered into walls to hold pictures; woven scarves to keep my neck warm

6--Snow; Clear skies; Deer

7--11:30am: A completed work-out; 2:30pm: A happy girl & a good day at school; 6:30pm: A meal to share w/ my family

8--A lamp broken; a Wii balance board fixed; a giant-sized CareBear thrifted

9--Unexpected grace-gifts: an invitation to teach; a friend who loves me; a snuggle-closer without asking

10--Hayden watches The Fox and the Hound; Kelly laughs at my joke; I laugh at Kelly's joke

11--Productivity; A sense of accomplishment when the job is done; the opportunity to do so

12--Learning to be grown-up; the trials I encounter; opportunities to accept God's grace & give it to others--including myself

13--A clean laundry room; a clean bathroom; an organized fridge

14--In the opportunity to parent; in the opportunity to be a wife; in my reconciled relationship with the Father

15--Losing my insecurity; Finding my stability in Jesus; Making gifts for others' 

16--Cool shade; end-of-the-day accomplishment; a longing for the light

17--Being like Christ; helping others; being obedient

18--Valentine's Day cards; daily planner pages; checks in the mail

19--Moving to Wash; Hayden's school; Attending the Wash campus of our church

20--Breakfast: starts the day; Lunch: getting a midday meal; Dinner: enjoying family time

21--My heart after being washed with the blood of the Lamb; clouds; snow

22--New attitude; keeping company with friends; alone time with my man

23--Tin: cans that hold our food; Glass: clean windows with clear view; Wood: my table

24--A brand new day; a work-out at the gym; a good drop-off

25--My old green sweater; a pair of jeans hemmed to size; a lot of little things that are blessings, besides

26--A time of testing to grow our faith in a place we did not like; A time of waiting to learn to trust in a time that I desperately needed it; A time of anticipation in a place we love

27--Saggy breasts-I still have them; long, vertical c-section scar-it gave passage to my daughter; Death of a Follower-ugly separation from us but beautiful reunification with Jesus

28--The gift of growing up in the Word; Parents committed to each other; Hard lessons learned 

Sometimes It's Just Hard

Today I read an article about Mr. Rogers. His show was, perhaps, my childhood favorite. The Land of Make-Believe was a land that made a big impact on me--I was an avid pretender for longer than I care to admit. His words, his neighborhood adventures, his teaching moments were ones that were marked by the air of a listener. He knew the words to say and when to say them but even through the TV screen, I remember feeling at ease, almost like he and I were having a sit-down conversation. He ended each show with the words, "You've made this day a special day by just your being you. There's no person in the whole world like you. And I like you just the way you are." It was a statement of weighty affirmation. Lately, I've forgotten the truth in that sentiment. I lack the confidence that Mr. Rogers helped instill in me about liking myself just the way I am. 

It is a struggle sometimes to see yourself the way Christ sees you...loved unconditionally. It is a struggle to live according to your new identity. And sometimes, you listen too closely to the lies whispered in ears too eager to believe them. 

I've hit a rough patch. For half a year now, I've worked diligently at trying to tame my body into submission and bring it to a place of better health and a leaner silhouette. And the progress that I expected and held onto hope would happen over the course of painstaking time, has not and I feel defeated. There have been some changes, yes, but not the significant ones on which I set my sights.  It's funny how something as menial as working out with few results can put you in a slump.

Why do I start to chip away at myself over this? A lifetime of struggle with this particular conundrum may be part of that. Or it could be that current life events find me groping for trust in a sea of murky doubt. Whatever the cause, I feel pressed with the weight of the effects. Like dominoes tumbling down, one after the other, body image only begins it.

I can intellectually call to mind all of the "right" answers for this downturn: read scripture, pray, pray scripture, remember who I am in Christ, praise, give thanks. I am trying but I'll admit it is a half-hearted attempt. Sometimes I feel like I just don't have it in me. And I just want to be held. 

I won't even get into how hard it is to give grace; to give love when I feel empty of it. Funnily enough, I attended a women's conference at church a couple of weekends ago on this very topic. It's ironic that the copious notes I took have been put to so little use between then and now.  I am trying to remember. I am trying to be still and know. But trying is hard and right now, I just want to lay myself down and have it poured over me. 

I write honestly and in the middle of it all. I cannot offer a glorious truth that has washed over me and given me a fresh new day. I cling to the hope that that is to come. Reading over this, it smacks of self-deprecation and a pity-party atmosphere. But I put it out there anyway, because weary overwhelms sometimes and maybe I'm not alone. Perhaps this is you right now, too. I will pray for me and for you. I will trudge through the half-hearted attempts of each "right" answer because trudging is sometimes progress, too. 

Cling to these with me: 

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."  -Matthew 11:28-30

"Forgiven, beloved, hidden-in-Christ, made in the image of the Giver of life, righteous and holy, reborn and remade, accepted and worthy, this is our new name. This is who we are now."  -Jason Gray

"I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness."  -Jeremiah 31:3

"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."  -Romans 5:8

There are many, many more. Cling to them. I'll cling to mine. Until next time, peace be with you.

Grace & Snow

It's snowing again here. I love the snow. There is something peaceful and redeeming about the snow. It falls quiet and graceful yet it is profound. Flakes pile high; blanket everything with clean white. Graceful they fall, these flakes, cascading, spiraling, curlicue-ing down from the sky.

It is easy for me to find such beauty in such grace and uninterrupted purpose. Perhaps it explains my love for ballet and other kinds of dance and for those who glide through life and make each action look smooth, tranquil, purposeful.

If I had my pick of characteristics, grace would be the one I would choose for myself. On my own, I am messy. I trip, I spill, I jerk and even fall down. Self-deprecation aside, seriously, I am not graceful. There was the time I tripped up stairs and fell, embedding my Eiffel Tower keychain into my hand. Or one of the countless times I was, ya know, walking and turned my ankle. To number the shirts I've retired due to spills, spatters, and drips would be to number the stars…well, nearly number them, anyway.

I yearn for a smooth, tranquil, purposeful life. I want to be one of those people that makes everything look effortless. And I'm just not.

Snowflakes fall grace-filled but it is their landing that fulfills their ultimate purpose. When they land together, they create thick, powdery heaps, good for snowmen and snow ice cream. When they land on salted walks, they quickly dissipate, melting back into the water that formed their crystal bodies. Of course a snowflake doesn't choose where it lands. It is guided fully by the Sender.

Unlike a snowflake, we choose where we land; guided by the self-same Sender.

To live purposeful, banding together with others who live purposeful, creates something that can be used. To to live purposeful, but let purpose be "melted" by circumstance diminishes the potency of the purpose. And there is always a need to restart.

If I clearly have a choice, why would I choose to trade my purpose for the futility of feeling the circumstance? I struggle with temper and rage. And truly Grace-filled people don't rage--they don't need to. Being rage-filled rather than Spirit-filled violates my purpose; bars me from it.

I had a fight with my husband. And though I had a point that mattered and legitimately hurt feelings, there was no grace about my response. Slamming palms against table tops is never a Grace-filled reply. And if I am not Grace-filled how can I, in turn, offer Grace? In that moment, I was filled with hot-blooded rage--Oh, Father, check my rage!

There is nothing effortless about living life. Sometimes it is nothing but effort. And the kind of grace that has become my idol isn't the kind of grace after which I should be following hard. That kind of grace is a shadow and a pretense. The kind of grace that transforms has already been given me. Why am I not following hard after it? Is it because the idol-grace is one that I make? Am I choosing self-made over the ultimate Grace--that which I cannot make?

Jesus, your Grace is grace that overflows in its abundance. It is perfect and whole and filling and never-ending and all the grace I'll ever need is YOUR Grace. And it is Your Grace that can overcome my rage.

Remind me:

"Those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on what the flesh desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires. The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace." 

The Message is never more successfully shared than when I share it with my life. The me I practice privately is the me that will emerge most commonly in public. And if I don't let the Spirit govern my mind and bring life and peace in private, I cannot meaningfully share that Message with others in public.

So let me be Grace-filled. Let me offer Your Grace, knowing that I am in as desperate need as those with whom I share it.

The flakes fall soft from the sky and I watch them, recollect Your Grace and breath Peace.

Finishing January Thanks:

22--Wrinkled prune-fingers from swimming; smoothed out bedspread over a neatly made bed; clothes folded and put away
23--In Christ, I find unconditional love; never-ending forgiveness; abundant grace

24--New blue dishes on my wish list; clear blue sky today; warm blue sweater

25--A grace borrowed--inspiration to write from other Christ-sisters; A grace found--I once was lost but now am found; a grace inherited--a rich spiritual legacy

26--Peace from God before dawn when dreams frighten me awake; deep and glorious sunshine at noon; a warm and cozy home after dark

27--A mixer that mixes cakes and breads and warm yummies; an oven that bakes them; a fridge & pantry stocked with food.

28--Friends who forgive; friends who make time; friends who pray

29--A song heard about waiting; a soft word breathed to me of lifelong love; sunlight glittering the snow 

30--An old Bible study lesson with new meaning; Exercise with new vigor & purpose; the world through God's eyes when there is Jesus within

31--Reminder of a day off of school on a paper; The love and joy in the person of my friend; laughs in a picture of my child and her friends

Life is Hard; God is Good

Last week was grim. Circumstances I found myself in dealt me a heavy blow; I felt immobilized and sad. Everything I had to do felt like weight pushing my feet into thick, gluey mud. And so I muddled through what couldn't be avoided and I did a lot of reading.

I read in Isaiah: 

"I am the Lord, and there is no other; apart from me there is no God. I will strengthen you, though you have not acknowledged me, so that from the rising of the sun to the place of its setting people may know there is none besides me. I am the Lord, and there is no other. I form the light and create darkness, I bring prosperity and create disaster; I, the Lord, do all these things." (45:5-7)

And concerning this verse, I read, 

"God ordains whatsoever comes to pass--in an ultimate sense, all things…God says essentially, 'Look no further, the buck stops here.'…So we see two crucial truths here: first, God is the cause of all things; but second, and just as important, God is the final and only ultimate hope we have in all circumstances…"[1]

And also, 

"…When God allows something, he is acting deliberately--he is decreeing that event. God doesn't just watch bad things happen. What is accidental from our perspective was specifically allowed by God. He who holds all things together must sustain the very molecules of the bullet as it flies toward it's mark."[2]

I read in Deuteronomy: 

"See now that I myself am he! There is no god besides me. I put to death and I bring to life, I have wounded and I will heal, and no one can deliver out of my hand." (32:39)

And concerning it:

"It is abhorrent for some that the Judeo-Christian God of the Scriptures might be the one who wounds and in his sovereignty 'afflicts' some with disabilities. However, if there is hardness on one side, there is profound comfort in the other.  He also proclaims himself the one who heals. It would be one thing if he only afflicted. Such a horrific god would certainly engender fear and submission, but not love and devotion. It would be equally horrific if he were a god who only healed, because that would mean he has no control over the afflictions that assail us."[3]

And this excerpt from a favorite blog:

"...But the slave may declare, ‘I love my master, my wife, and my children. I don’t want to go free.’ If he does this, his master must present him before God. Then his master must take him to the door or doorpost and publicly pierce his ear with an awl. After that, the slave will serve his master for life. [Ex. 21:5-6]

The edges of my ear, bore through and blatant.

This murmuring with David:

“You do not want sacrifices and offerings.

    But you have made a hole in my ear

    to show that my body and life are Yours.” Ps. 40:6-8

I had been sitting in a Bible Study when my ear had tore straight through and here I was with a right opened ear…Sometimes what you think is an open wound needing to heal--is God opening you up like an ear to hear Him and obey...Stand before that door and be bore through — because this is the only way through...What do I need more than His love and what do I want more than His will and when I am my own master, don’t I have a fool for a master?"

I read and I thought and I prayed for God to connect the dots.  These are hard truths and rather than grapple with them, I began to wrap myself in them. I opened my heart to the inevitability I was reading that God decreed and authored these and other difficult events in my life. I was surprised to find that this brought me not the anger and frustration I'd expected but a sense of understanding and of comfort.

Even while I still hurt, I set in motion the closing of my fingers and wrapping of my heart around the truth that my grim week was sanctioned for a purpose that I couldn't see; may never see. It served a purpose--one that I can believe that He allowed to bring good and glory to Himself and is therefore better than I could ever hope for. And wasn't this part and parcel of my belonging to Christ? If I am to be marked His bondslave, wasn't this part of the process? All of this, I felt, should have weighed me down but yet I discovered peace and not discord in my heart; a lessened sense of drowning in my heartache.

Speaking of aching: when we ache, we want it to stop. When we've ached, we never want to feel it again. In fact, a large portion of our energy is spent trying to build a impenetrable force that ensures that we will never ache again. What was it Shakespeare wrote? "Lord, what fools these mortals be!"  

Aching is never without purpose; practically or spiritually. And when we look hard at only the hurting and not at the learning, we miss it. Easy words, though. But, if the reasons behind my hurting have God-purpose that I can abide in without seeing, then letting go of my lost expectations, desires, dreams becomes the next logical step, albeit an arduous one.

I'm far from having this all figured out. Could I think or say the same if events were worse? If violence and trauma marred the loss I felt? If the loss had been complete? Some stand in that place right now and these words seem garish and ugly; far from comfort and peace. 

At the end of the day, I stake my heart on this because it is all I have: God is good. His ultimate purposes (though I cannot comprehend them) are for good. Giving and taking does not change His goodness, no matter how much I might think it does.  

Learning, always learning. 

For now, though, it is a start to say and to begin to believe: 

"This too is from God's hand. I can go nowhere else."[4]

For these and so much more, I give thanks:
1--My daughter singing along with silly songs; hearing my husband say my name; a new worship song

2--Crisp air outside; warm air and cozy smells inside; fresh baked bread on a plate

3--Grace said over me by a mentor; grace said over me by a teacher; grace offered up by my daughter

4--An old appliance still works like new; a new stone loaf pan; new blue shoes

5--Reading about God in wool and honey and wine and disability; making a new scarf; seeing God's work in my life

6--Two new pens from my lover in my bag; two round wheels of brie in my fridge; amplified love of my Savior in my heart

7--Grace from my husband during my week of grim; grace from my friends when I feel lonely on Friday nights; abundant grace from my Savior each and every day

8--Sunset in a dusky sky; my reflection in the mirror when I'm having a good hair day; shadow of my man sitting next to me

9--Held my daughter's hand while we walked; passed by trees sparkling with ice; sat with Jesus-sisters in Bible study

10--Lemon sour to flavor my tea; chocolate pie eaten in fellowship; bowl of soup at just the right temperature

11--Each new rise of the sun is mercy; yellow dreams a friend shares is mercy; a sunrise on the morning of His rise is mercy

12--The starry skies above, the waiting spring below, my Savior and my God beside

13--I am grateful for being made to understand compassion; for beginning to learn patience; for being who God made me to be

14--Grace for my mistakes; grace in the hard truths; grace in my messed-upness

15--New jacket worn; outgrown clothes given away; lunch shared with a friend

16--Witnessed God's blessing of new life given; witnessed friends' work toward a goal completed; witnessed much progress made by my girl in communicating

17--My husband brings me laughter; hard things and thanks bring me prayer; waiting on God brings me quiet

18--Deuteronomy 32:39; Ruth 1:20-21; Isaiah 45:5-7

19--My daughter; my husband; but for the love of God, my salvation

20--The joy in serving; the strength in godly relationships; the beauty of marriage

21--Fluffy flakes float from the sky; the cleaning power of water; the memory of sweet communion

---

[1] Michael S. Beates, Disability and the Gospel (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2012), 37.

[2] Joni Eareckson Tada and Dave Draveky, eds., The Encouragement Bible (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2001), 964

[3] Michael S. Beates, Disability and the Gospel (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2012), 32.

[4] Michael S. Beates, Disability and the Gospel (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2012), 45.

Les Mis

The college I attended offered a 4-week session during each January called J-term. For many, it was simply an extra 4 weeks of winter vacation to relax and prepare for the spring semester. I took classes only one January but wished each and every year I was a student there that I could've taken the course that involved a 2-week trip to London.  The expense was always greater than I could afford but I had friends who went and allowed me to experience the trip vicariously through them; they brought me pictures and souvenirs; shared tales of their adventures and even made a couple of phone calls to tell me that they wished I were there, etc.

There was always one facet of that trip that I sorely wished to experience that couldn't be captured in pictures or souvenirs or phone calls: seeing performed, live theatre, main-stage popular musicals and the amazing artistic craft of the professional stage. Les Miserables was running in London, then, probably every year my friends went. I remember how wonderful the descriptions of the artistry of that musical: the costumes, the music, the set, the performances--all done professionally and as perfectly as theatre can get. Young men who prided themselves on being unemotional and unaffected by such things as theatre would tell tales of sitting in a dark auditorium, openly weeping during the brilliant execution of Les Mis. "It was moving," they'd say, "so very good!"

Time passed, I finished college and moved on with my life. There was never regret, per se, that I didn't get to go to London on one of those trips but more, a hope that someday I would get to go--a longing that I tucked away and still keep.

This December just past, the newest cinematic version of Les Miserables was released.  There have been others and I've never really had an interest in watching any of them. Somehow, there just seemed a lackluster quality to what I knew to be the spectacular onstage version. But this new one...this one was to be different. It was filmed in such a way that all the actors sang the dialogue in real time as the camera's rolled. And all the A-list actors who participated in the film actually sang. There was to be, built into the film, a theatricality that gave the movie that magical, live, onstage feel.

And today, I got to experience it and it was like my longed-for trip to London was fully realized. I may be a hopeless romantic and occasionally see things ideally rather than realistically, sometimes to the detriment of a proper perspective, but I allowed myself this joy. Like London in January, it was cold this morning--8 degrees--with snow still blanketing the ground. And we were bundled up in coats and scarves and hats and it was a special event...special because my husband woke up at 7 am to go with me to drop our Kiddo off at school and then treat me to this visual spectacle.

And as I sat in the dark and wept at all the right parts, I also found myself weeping for a different reason at other, less obvious parts. And because the themes of mercy and compassion and love and grace and justice were so obvious, I couldn't help but see God right there in the middle of Les Mis.  And I wept when Jean val Jean suddenly grasped that he'd been offered grace for the first time in his life and how it changed him and opened his heart to accept the grace that God offers. And I wept when mercy did not soften a heart made hard by years of mercilessness and Javert saw the only way out was at the bottom of a bridge. And I wept when desperation drove Fantine to sacrifice her pride and her honor to save her child and how, again, compassion and grace, while it didn't save her life, saved her child's and allowed her a peaceful death.

It dawned on me, as I watched, that I am--we are--all of these characters! I have been offered an undeserved grace and mercy; I've been given compassion of which I am unworthy.  This shone out glaring watching Jean val Jean, for the love of his child, carry her fiancé through deep, dark, stinking sewers of refuse; of excrement, to bring him to safety. And to fathom that this is what Jesus did for me caused me to weep all the more.

I am infected and impure with sin. All my "righteous acts" are like filthy rags. And He left his righteous, unimaginably pure throne to wade through my muck--not wade, but swim, swallow, saturate Himself--so that I could be made clean. Overwhelming. Humbling.

Experiencing God has been on my mind and heart lately. I am preparing for spring Bible study and I find it in my preparation. I am beginning a journey that may lead to teaching others and asking this question of myself is the first necessity on that journey to impacting others--have I, am I, will I continue to experience God? To experience heart-change that He's begun? Through His Word? Through open and continuous conversation with Him? Through searching for Him in my day-to-day? Through thanking Him for every blessing He's put in my life?

Today, the answer is yes. YES. Oh, Father God, YES! I experienced You this morning! You gave me such a blessing--a multi-faceted blessing: a wonderful spouse who made a sacrifice to allow me to enjoy what I enjoy, a movie that was made and through it I tasted a morsel of what I missed out on in college, and the lessons that You teach me over and over and over...the ones that I cling to because they are what matters in this life! The heart of the law is mercy--You, Father are mercy! It is by grace I am saved--not my filthy rag-works! It is a gift! You have compassion on whom you have compassion--and You have compassion on me! You are a God of justice! This day, Jesus, I give you my thanks. I have so much to be thankful for!

And so it is with heart full of happiness that I will continue on my day, looking for God in my every step. Finding Him there, too, because He's in my heart. Thank you Jesus for Grace. For Mercy. For Compassion. And for a day like today when they blaze in my heart and give me a passion for You!

Unearthed Thanks

Sometimes I just can't find myself. And sometimes, I feel eaten alive by insecurity. And my nerves are raw edges that dig at me and make the very air around me seem ragged and harsh. Doubt and paranoia are wicked foes and I just want to sit in the dark and cry. And I feel like a wrinkled, bitter, frigid shrew; unlovely and striving against hate and rage and uncertainty. 

Praying gets interrupted by battles with my thoughts. I want to feel secure again so much. These feelings, the lingering events-past, are a distraction and an attack. And isn't it always the way that when I feel like I'm making progress, something shifts and suddenly I'm back at the beginning?

I must thank…I must thank. Gratitude for my life and my circumstances, regardless of how hard and how painful, is where I will ultimately find chara, joy. It is where I will remember what has been done that I might have life and have it more abundantly. And these last few weeks have been hard because the thanking got buried under the rush of the daily grind.

The thanking is a reminder of the blessing. It propels me to share; to focus on others. And then I am fortified for the battle. The thanking becomes praying and then praying flows fluidly. 

Jesus, I offer unearthed thanks:

Nov. 1--3 Gifts Eaten:  Lunch at Friday's with the Hubbs; Delicious Zingers; Creamy Butternut Squash Soup

Nov. 2--3 Gifts Worn: Warm sweaters, Cozy scarves, Toasty hats

Nov. 3--3 Gifts That Start with "N":  Nummy candies, Never-ending love from the Father; New Life because of Jesus!

Nov. 4--A Gift Gathered, Given, Good: Leaves gathered everyday by Kiddo as she leaves school; A new hoodie given by a dear friend; God who is so very good!

Nov. 5--3 Gifts Acorn-Small: The tiny pills that have made such a difference in Kiddo's learning & experiencing; The tiny pills that help me feel better while sick; Faith the size of a mustard seed that can be powerful enough to move mountains

Nov. 6--3 Gifts Government:  The freedom & privilege to vote; A society that is not torn apart by war; A country that has been shaped and formed to provide freedoms and rights that are found very few other places on this planet.

Nov. 7--3 Gifts From Your Window: The view of Fall happening all around me; 

Nov. 8--A Gift Sweet, Salty, Sipped: Halloween Candy! Chips & Salsa; Mug of Homemade Butter Beer to soothe the sore throat

Nov. 9--3 Gifts Harvest:  Harvest of friends we've found here; the Harvest happening on farms all over our region--food provision from the Provider! Harvest of blessings that He provides daily!

Nov. 10--3 Gifts Found in Bible Reading:  For of His fullness, we have all received grace upon grace; Then a shoot will spring from the stem of Jesse, and a branch from his roots will bear fruit; All right then, the Lord himself will give you the sign. Look! The virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel (which means ‘God is with us’).

Nov. 11--3 Gifts of Remembrance: My Grandpa, My Sister, My Savior

Nov. 12--3 Gifts at Noon: Lunch to Eat, Sun--high in the sky, Time to stop and breathe

Nov. 13--3 Gifts Behind a Door: Happy faces of a family waiting our arrival; Coming home again; A fridge with plenty inside it

Nov. 14--3 Gifts Silent: Silent before the Word--Bonhoeffer's Words; Silent Night & Holy Night; When snow falls

Nov. 15--3 Gifts Golden: Golden lights on Christmas trees; Golden trees; Golden ornaments

Nov. 16--3 Gifts Hard Eucharisteo: Battling my thoughts; honoring regardless; sick kitty

Nov. 17--3 Gifts of Laughter: Funny memes; Silly with my sister; SNL

Nov. 18--A Gift Made, Shared, Passed On: Made bread from scratch; Shared a meal with a dear friend; Passed on a sentiment from Bonhoeffer

Nov. 19--3 Gifts Autumn: Trees; Sweaters; Crisp Air

Nov. 20--3 Gifts of Traditions: Christmas Tree up the day after Thanksgiving; Considering new ones; Post-Thanksgiving trip to VA & Williamsburg at Christmas

Nov. 21--3 Gifts Family: Trip to VA to see family; Willingness of family to chip in for joint gift for Kiddo; Full support and unconditional love

Nov. 22--A Gift Grateful: My life

Nov. 23--3 Gifts Only in Christ: Salvation; Peace; Loving Others

Nov. 24--3 Gifts Humble: Overnight sitter for our anniversary; parents' willingness to help; White ceramic Christmas tree with peg lights like Grandma's--from a friend

Nov. 25--3 Gifts Ugly-Beautiful:  Skinny & sore kitty on the mend; Couri Family Christmas Tree 2012; My messy house

Nov. 26--3 Gifts Preparing: A home in Heaven; Baked yummies; God--the return of the King

Nov. 27--A Gift Handmade, Held, Happy: A meal made by a friend; Holding a little girl close to my heart at bedtime; A Happy Kiddo

Nov. 28--3 Gifts in Community:  Church family; Small group family; Kiddo's wonderful school

Nov. 29--3 Gifts Red:  Sparkly Christmas balls; Star on my ceramic tree; Bows on presents

Nov. 30--3 Gifts Astonishing!:  Advent; God with us; Grace