Seeing how "it is good."

"Mommy, can you help me find a Lego piece I need?" Will called down to me from the top of the stairs.

He had been silent in his room all morning creating buildings with Legos. I made my way up the stairs to assist as he began describing the exact particular color and size of the certain piece he needed. After much what felt like searching for a needle in a haystack, we found the small, two-pronged, faint yellow block forming a tiny light in the "kitchen" of his house.

"This is JUST what I wanted it to look like," he said smiling proudly.

I am reminded of that moment today as I spend time in God's word. My oldest has a wonderful imagination and LOVES to create what he has imagined.

How many times have I heard the story of Creation? How many times have I told it to my children? Have I read it in Genesis? Too many. Yet today it's as if I've read it for the first time. Today I am moved by the artistry of God. The great Creator. Just in the birds alone...their colors... their shapes and sizes. Then the animals. The massive seas. The great sky. The clouds. The earth. The mountains. All from nothing. He simply designed. He created and formed... from nothing.

"Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness.... God saw all that He had made, and behold, it was very good." Genesis 1:26,31

When I consider that I bear the image of our Triune God, there becomes a shift in my perspective. When I dwell on the fact that I bear qualities of Christ, I see the value in myself. I see value in others. I treat them that way. After all, we were created.

I think we forget that. Scripture tells us God formed us. We were designed. We weren't thrown together. Just as my son had that exact particular part for his building in mind, so God purposely plans accordingly for me. He didn't just grab any old eyes. He had the color, hazel, in mind the entire time. He didn't just throw me in some woman's womb. He chose my mother. He is the designer of my life. Every block is specific and unique, hand-picked, for me... for all of us.

All that God created He saw as good. When he created man, it was very good. We are precious and honored in His sight. He LOVES us. (Isaiah 43:4). Yet, we live in this fallen world. Life is hard. How can we believe the fact that we are loved and all things are working together for our good(Romans 8:28) in this reality?

How can this all be good, Lord?

The answer was swift.

Because I AM the Creator. I AM the builder of your life. I AM the foundation upon which you were built and the source of strength by which you can stand. You are an unfinished building. Though some bricks seem painful, some too much to bear, they are necessary for my specific design. Your blueprint is engraved on my hand. I AM purposeful in your story. Trust me, my child, I see the finished treasure. It is BEAUTIFUL! But for now, I AM still creating... and because I am creating... it IS good.

...like this day is not my own.

Why did I decide to do this this morning? I thought to myself as I gathered my earphones and laced my tennis shoes. 6:20. ugh. I am so not a morning person, but with Chris working later this week and the evenings darkening earlier, it really was my only option for a run.

"You'll be glad when you get back," my husband encouraged.

I set out. It was cool. Really cool. Fall cool. There was light, but not too much. My song shuffle began with soothing praise music. It was working, I was getting moving.

It was quiet. A few dogs guarding their lawns. Dogs I had never seen before. Perhaps this is their "outside" time before their owners leave for work. They seemed not to mind my crossing their front yard. An elderly man walks some trash to the curb. Another waters his lawn. I continue. Thank you, Lord, for this beautiful morning.

As I loop back for a second mile, the street is waking up. Children are walking to the bus stop. A man fires up his lawn mower. A woman strolls her baby. Garage doors open. Cars leave for work. I smell laundry detergent. Clothes are being washed.

Good Morning, Day!

A new day. A new gift given to me. New hours to be lived. To LIVE! With a new day.. there is new life! There are second chances. There is a continuing. The sun is up and the world is stirring. My heart awakens. I rejoice in the day. The gift. I want to extend an offering. I want to give BACK this day.. these hours.. that have been given to me.

Thank you for life, Holy Father. Thank you for another day.. a NEW day. May it be an offering to YOU. Give me wisdom how to best use your hours. Give me joy in this day's circumstances. Enable me to see my children's grumbling hearts not as inconveniences, but as opportunities to teach and equip. Help me offer my time unselfishly. Give me mercy and compassion to sacrifice my agendas for YOUR kingdom. I offer this day to you. Thank you for giving it to me. After all, you brought it... it has always been yours. Help me LIVE today like this day is not my own.

Oh, and yes, sweetheart, I WAS glad when I got back. :)

My heart this morning.....

Much of this world's angst is actually a longing for the perfection of heaven. Blatant sin is often a misguided attempt to fill that emptiness. The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so they search for heaven in hellish ways; excesses and perversions of every kind. However, great sinners can be transformed into exceptional Christians when they turn their passionate appetites toward Me. My Love and forgiveness satisfy soul-hunger as nothing else can. --Sarah Young from Dear Jesus

"Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare." Isaiah 55:2

I Need Thee Every Hour

"Sweetie, I was looking at all of these moms dropping their kids off at school and riding off by themselves for a few hours. I just long for that day for you. What are you going to do with yourself?" my precious husband asked me after we dropped our 2nd grader and Kindergartener off on the first day of school.

"Lose all the perspective I have right now on life," I sarcastically replied.

I've been thinking about that a lot this week in the quiet of my house. As I explained to my husband, it is honestly, a fear of mine. I dread that day, in a sense. Being able to stay home and be surrounded by my children and be a daily, hourly, example of Christ AND sinner before their very eyes has been God's gift to me. It has been my battle ground, spiritually. It has been lonely. It has been discouraging. It has been extremely tiring. It's been humbling. Yet, it has been victorious. It has been miraculous. It has kept me at the feet of Jesus.

On the good days, I have a front row seat to the workmanship of my Savior in the hearts of my kids. On the more difficult ones, I experience fully Philippians 4:13. And that's ALL THINGS. That's getting through the day on 2 hours of sleep. That's not losing my temper. That's being willingly to set aside the laundry and the to-do list for building blocks and tea parties... Yes, truly and fully, I have realized I CAN do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Being a mother, more than ANYTHING else I've ever encountered, keeps me in need of my Lord.

Now, do we all understand why I dread my children leaving? HA!

I forever want perspective. It is my prayer to ALWAYS, regardless of my circumstances, be in need of Jesus. I want to need Him just as much in the "manageable" moments as in the "unmanageable" ones. I was singing this hymn this morning and my heart couldn't help but pour out this prayer to my Heavenly Father. I may need to sing this every morning when I wake up.

Oh, Lord, may I NEVER stop needing you... in bounty and famine....in blessing and sorrow... may I Need Thee Every Hour.

I need thee every hour, Most gracious Lord;
No tender voice like Thine, Can peace afford
I need Thee, O I need Thee; Every hour I need Thee!
O bless me now, my Savior, I come to Thee.

I need Thee every hour, Stay Thou nearby;
Temptations lose their power, When Thou art nigh.
I need Thee, O I need Thee, Every hour I need Thee!
O bless me now, my Savior, I come to Thee.

I need Thee every hour, In joy or pain;
Come quickly and abide, Or life is vain.
I need Thee, O I need Thee, Every hour I need Thee!
O bless me now, my Savior, I come to Thee.

I need Thee every hour, Teach me Thy will;
Thy promises so rich, In me fulfill.
I need Thee, O I need thee, Every hour I need Thee!
O bless me now, my Savior, I come to Thee.

I need Thee every hour, Most Holy One;
O make me Thine indeed, Thou blessed Son.
I need Thee, O I need thee, Every hour I need Thee!
O bless me now, my Savior, I come to Thee.

Mommy, is Jesus REAL?

The bedroom door yet again creaked open. This is the third time since I tucked my sweet firstborn into bed and kissed him good-night.

"Mommy, can I have a drink of water?" Yes, dear.. good-night.

"Mommy, I hear spooky songs." I'm sorry,let's pray Jesus will help you sleep.

Good night. (I'm becoming irritated)

So when I hear that door for the third time, I'm already heading up the stairs ready to dish out some consequences before he even has time to speak.

Yet, I'm suddenly met by a tearful child. A fearful child. My son meets me at the stairs and pleads, "Mommy, will YOU pray with me? I'm afraid."

There are very particular times when I feel the Holy Spirit soften my heart instantly. This was one of those times. I took him in my arms and we stood outside his room.... and started to pray.. but he stopped me.

"Mommy, is Jesus real? or is he just fake like Santa and the tooth fairy? Is he real? Tell me. Don't lie to me. I want to know. Is there really a person who is listening to me pray or just a nobody there?"

wow.

I was quite silenced.

I have always loved imagination. I've always loved fairy tales and fantasy. I love holidays. I love theme parks. I love make-believe. And because I loved it so much, I dove whole-heartily into the world of make believe as a child and I believed.

Christmas, especially, was a wonderful time. My parents where SO fun and made this holiday quite magical. When I set a plate of cookies out for Santa, SANTA was eating them. My brother and I would swear we could hear the pitter-patter of reindeer on our roof. I remember, like it was yesterday, lying in my bed and waiting... watching the clock... wondering, "has Santa had time to come and go yet, or is it too soon to go downstairs and see my gifts." It was so fun and thrilling. I believed my parents when they told me he was real. I fought with my friends at school over this. After all, my parents wouldn't tell me something that wasn't true. right?

Now, in their defense, I never remember questioning them. They never "lied" to me. I never challenged the concept. So finally, after much arguing with several of my friends at school one day regarding this topic, I stepped up and asked the big question, and of course, my mother told me the truth about Santa and I went up to my room, closed the door and sobbed..heart-broken.

But I later learned that I was not the average child. Most kids didn't believe. Most kids had it figured out. They hunted down the gifts. They wanted the "proof". I never did this. At this time in my life, I simply blindly accepted and believed. So as my own children began to grow older and more and more of the culture began asking them "So what is Santa going to bring you this year?" I could only visualize their faces, years from now, buried in a pillow bawling their eyes out after my shattering their years of belief in someone with a casual,Of course, Santa isn't real. Why would I choose to speak anything other than the truth? How would I handle this?

Chris and I made a decision to always... always..regardless of what the culture or our families or our friends say to us... to ALWAYS speak with complete honesty to our children. We felt very convicted about this. We figured the Lord knows our children better than we do. He already sees them as teenagers while we are holding them for the first time as infants. He fashioned their personalities.

But if I'm honest, this decision wasn't easy. It's hard to look into the faces of "believing" children on Christmas eve... full of wonder and anticipation. Evil whispers in my ear...you are depriving your children of the joy of Christmas HA! That looks so strange now after having written it out. But Satan does whisper that to me. I am so thankful for my wise husband who counters that attack with, "Is there anything more needed to add to the wonder and joy of Christmas than Christ-Holy God of all creation- coming to earth-becoming a human- and saving us?" I think about that often during the holidays. I see my children happy and still full of wonder and excitement.. huh, shocking, right?


The Lord doesn't promise to always return to us the fruit of our labor, but tonight I tasted a harvest. In tears, I was able to hold my boy and emphatically proclaim:

"YES, Will. Jesus is real. He's the real thing. He's alive and here and listening to us. That is why it was so awesome when he died and came back to life. It meant He lives forever. There are no special occasions He is bound by. There's no far off place where He lives. He lives IN US. We ALWAYS have access to HIM. Mommy and Daddy have NEVER told you anything that wasn't true. This is true. He is true. Yes, Will. Jesus is real and He HEARS you when you pray."

Will wiped his eyes and cleared his throat.

"Ok, then I'm ready to talk to Him," he said.

We did and when we had finished, he quietly walked into his room.

I haven't heard from him since.

An excellent friend is one who more than waters.. she fertilizes.

Welcome home. We are so glad to see you.

The enormous stalks of sunflowers in my flower box seemed to be cheerfully whispering to us as we stepped into our backyard. I couldn't BELIEVE how beautiful they were. My daughter had wanted so desperately to plant sunflowers this year. I have NEVER been able to grow them. We had been watering them and watering them since April and still nothing. It seemed those stalks were going to grow up and over our fence with not even a morsel of yellow. I bid farewell to them before we left for our two week vacation and, even though one of my friends would be watering my plants while we were away, I figured they would simply die. I was wrong.

"I didn't think your sunflowers were going to make it so I gave them a little fertilizer. Hope that's ok," my dear friend, Melanie, texted me upon our arrival. "Welcome home," she said.

I clipped those flowers and immediately placed them on our kitchen table. My heart swelled in gratefulness. I have wonderful friends. Melanie is one of those wonderful friends.

She is a listener. She is wise. She is a servant. She engages. She is a mother and a wife. She is compassionate. She loves animals. She loves Jesus. She is a real person... with real struggles. She struggles with honesty. She wrestles. She fights for Christ. She is an excellent friend.

There are few excellent friends. An excellent friend is one who more than waters your plants. She fertilizes. What kind of friend am I? Am I caring well for the body of Christ? Am I more than watering? Am I taking the time to go above and beyond? Am I noticing dry, parched souls in need of more than I was "asked" to give?

Jesus says, "This is My commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:12-13)

I am so easily irritated by people. I long to love more. Jesus help me love the body. Help me notice those hurting. Give me eyes to see. Give me the wisdom to know how to more than water... to fertilize.

Thank you, sweet Melanie, for being an example of a friend... the kind of friend Jesus describes. You have poured more than water into our family over and over again. My soul is richer having been blessed by your friendship.

I am not alone. I never was.

I was running along the shore early one morning. I don't know why I was up so early on my vacation. I think sometimes God wakes me up when I need a "wake up" from life. He beckons me to spend time with Him. He is so good. It is a gift that my heavenly Father longs for time with me.. enough to come into my room.. into my sleep.. and call my heart to awaken.. call my body to rise.. stirs my soul to follow.

So I put on shoes, grab the iPod, insert the headphones.. and I'm out the door at sunrise. I run. I feel my ankles and calves adjust to the sand and continue. I turn down my music to hear the roar of the ocean. The steady crash of the waves. The call of the gulls flying..fighting the breeze. I, too, fight the breeze as it pushes hard against my body. On the beach I sense His greatness. I remember the Psalmist write about how God made the sea. How he fashioned the very sand with his hands. I look down. His hands were all over this ground I run upon. His hands touched it! I watched the water creep over beached shells, then retreat. Back and forth.. back and forth. Right now, He is standing and telling that wave exactly how far he can go. He is keeping watch. I think to myself. I gaze out into the horizon. Into the VAST horizon. God you are so mighty and big. You are so great and good.

It's been a hard week for my personally. There have been many battles the Evil one has seemed to have won. Christ has seemed smaller this week. But here, now.. as I gaze out, He is growing. Well, in my eyes again, He is growing. He has ALWAYS been mighty. I had lost sight of this truth this week.

My legs are getting tired. The sun is up and shinning and I'm getting hot. I turn back. There is a group of people gathered together along the shore. They, too, are staring out into the horizon. I look in their direction.

Dolphins. Beautiful, graceful dolphins rocking in and out of the water. This IS a wonder. I see the children point in amazement. "Look!Look! See?!!!" It makes me smile and I think about those dolphins.

We are like dolphins. Living in a world we were not meant to breathe. We must come up for air. We were not given gills for this murky, dark world in which we swim. We need more in order to survive. We do our best navigating through the broken shells and trash others have expelled in our waters. By His grace, we escape the nets. We avoid the predators. To the best of our ability, we keep ourselves moving and free of beaching ourselves. We are beautiful creatures. We come to the surface and breathe before we plunge back into the dark world. We do this because we were put in the water. We are not fish, yet everything else about us were created for water. So we live here, because our Creator for some reason, though it seems strange, has placed us here. We trust His sovereignty over this decision. His reasons are wise. So we continue, as long as we have the ability to come to the surface, we continue.. swimming right along with the other "gilled" beings. We have no place in the deep, deep places. We must be able to surface frequently. How beautiful it is when we do! Others watch and cheer us on. Others stand along the shore and watch in amazement.

And as I watch these gorgeous specimens of God's creation, I am reminded of the hope I have in Christ. Though feeling out of place as I often do, I am always provided air. Sometimes I swim too deep. Sometimes I don't take a deep enough breath. But the surface is there.. wide open. Like His arms. Like His strength. I rise. As I rose early this morning, I rise now on the beach and take a breath. I breathe in His life. Hope meets me here. Faith jogs alongside me as I turn and plunge back into my run. I am not alone. I never was.