It has been a while since I have posted anything, and I had great intentions to share some of the things we have been up to lately, but this devotional spoke to me, and I wanted to share. Maybe a reason I haven't posted anything for a while is that "I really have too much to do", and this was a good reminder of what is important. Apparently blogging is important today! :)
I hope you are all feeling blessed and loved today - because you are!
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Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Source: A Lamp For My Feet
Time for God's Will
One reason we are so harried and hurried is that we make yesterday and tomorrow our business, when all that legitimately concerns us is today. If we really have too much to do, there are some items on the agenda which God did not put there. Let us submit the list to Him and ask Him to indicate which items we must delete. There is always time to do the will of God. If we are too busy to do that, we are too busy.
Lord, help me to take your yoke on my shoulder, not a yoke of my own making. May I learn from You to be gentle and humblehearted. May I find that your load is light.
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I love that I get these devotionals on my phone. It feels a little like fast food, but for your soul.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Girls' Weekend
We have been anticipating this weekend for almost six months. A two-day Christian women's conference, a nice hotel bed, continental breakfast, restaurant dining, traveling to a different state, to a big city.... A GIRLS' WEEKEND!
We each opened an unsuspecting envelope on Christmas eve at my parent's house, and then looked at eachother as we opened them. In December we knew, this date would have our fellowship, our late-night girl-talk, our laughter, our tears, our smiles, our spirits, our growth, and our hearts- all over it.
My mom has four daughters, and the sweetest daughter-in-law. All six of us, each different and yet the same, each learning a little more about the other, and trusting the other more and more. As we talk of our lives, some hundreds of miles from the other, each containing much of the same. We talk lightly of fun times and goofy things. We talk deep and long of our hurts and our joys, all intertwined in our lives. I cannot speak highly enough of these women God chose to be a part of my life.
These women's conferences, they know just how to reach us. As each woman spoke, we poured over God's word, we sang praise songs, we sat and listened to their stories, their insight, their hope and dreams for us. As women of God, we are blessed. We each have broken dreams, broken hearts, and hurts, but we also have hope and encouragement from our creator. We also have resources, as small or insignificant as we feel they are, we have to use them 100% for His purposes. If we hold back, we are not truly allowing God to do His work through and in us. It takes some risk, but that is what faith is, is it not? He wants us to trust Him - to lean on Him - to know us, so that in turn we would know Him. So that we would really know His incredible love for each of us. So that we would realize our need for Him. So that He could be our knight in shining armor - so that we would dream of the day when He says to us, "darlings, precious daughters, come home to me."
Some of the speakers used their talents to inspire us to do more, to be more diligent in our daily tasks, to be a better ___________. They throw in tid-bits that resonate with all of us. How we fight with our spouses, and even plan retaliation; or how we have ugly thoughts about our neighbors, our friends, our family, and we struggle with our own insecurity. They make us laugh because we have all been there. We have each had similar experiences in different circumstances.
At one point, towards the end of the conference, I couldn't help but be reminded of our deep desires, as women. The speaker's words dripped of a love story, of a novel that is mesmerizing. As I sat listening I thought ---- they get it, they know how the plot thickens and is complicated with obstacles, and yet how we all crave the perfect love story with the dreamy ending. We all want to be sought after, dreamed of, and wooed (if that's even a word). God is for everyone, His story of love is for each person that He created. However, it is a talented few who can take His story, and remind us that our creator designed us a certain way. A way in which our hearts would go pitter-patter for a love story, His love story, being written in the chapters of our lives is riveting. If we would each take a moment to think of how He has wooed us, how He has craved our attention and pined for our affection. Women connect with this story in a different way than men, and that is not something to be taken for granted. It is something to be celebrated.
My hope for you is that you are able to see the love story in your own life. That you are mesmerized by the savior who gave His life for you. Although I am frequently side-tracked and sucked into the mundane things of life, I am still in this story for the ending, for the perfect ending. I will endure the obstacles and shattered dreams, and I will always remember His great love for me, and the gifts He bestows all the while the plot twisting and thickening. I will choose to always see the loves He has put into my life, my hubby, my kiddos, my sisters, my mom, my friends, my in-law's, and yes, the material things too ---- like these darling purses that mom gave us. Thank you, Mom!
We each opened an unsuspecting envelope on Christmas eve at my parent's house, and then looked at eachother as we opened them. In December we knew, this date would have our fellowship, our late-night girl-talk, our laughter, our tears, our smiles, our spirits, our growth, and our hearts- all over it.
My mom has four daughters, and the sweetest daughter-in-law. All six of us, each different and yet the same, each learning a little more about the other, and trusting the other more and more. As we talk of our lives, some hundreds of miles from the other, each containing much of the same. We talk lightly of fun times and goofy things. We talk deep and long of our hurts and our joys, all intertwined in our lives. I cannot speak highly enough of these women God chose to be a part of my life.
These women's conferences, they know just how to reach us. As each woman spoke, we poured over God's word, we sang praise songs, we sat and listened to their stories, their insight, their hope and dreams for us. As women of God, we are blessed. We each have broken dreams, broken hearts, and hurts, but we also have hope and encouragement from our creator. We also have resources, as small or insignificant as we feel they are, we have to use them 100% for His purposes. If we hold back, we are not truly allowing God to do His work through and in us. It takes some risk, but that is what faith is, is it not? He wants us to trust Him - to lean on Him - to know us, so that in turn we would know Him. So that we would really know His incredible love for each of us. So that we would realize our need for Him. So that He could be our knight in shining armor - so that we would dream of the day when He says to us, "darlings, precious daughters, come home to me."
Some of the speakers used their talents to inspire us to do more, to be more diligent in our daily tasks, to be a better ___________. They throw in tid-bits that resonate with all of us. How we fight with our spouses, and even plan retaliation; or how we have ugly thoughts about our neighbors, our friends, our family, and we struggle with our own insecurity. They make us laugh because we have all been there. We have each had similar experiences in different circumstances.
At one point, towards the end of the conference, I couldn't help but be reminded of our deep desires, as women. The speaker's words dripped of a love story, of a novel that is mesmerizing. As I sat listening I thought ---- they get it, they know how the plot thickens and is complicated with obstacles, and yet how we all crave the perfect love story with the dreamy ending. We all want to be sought after, dreamed of, and wooed (if that's even a word). God is for everyone, His story of love is for each person that He created. However, it is a talented few who can take His story, and remind us that our creator designed us a certain way. A way in which our hearts would go pitter-patter for a love story, His love story, being written in the chapters of our lives is riveting. If we would each take a moment to think of how He has wooed us, how He has craved our attention and pined for our affection. Women connect with this story in a different way than men, and that is not something to be taken for granted. It is something to be celebrated.
My hope for you is that you are able to see the love story in your own life. That you are mesmerized by the savior who gave His life for you. Although I am frequently side-tracked and sucked into the mundane things of life, I am still in this story for the ending, for the perfect ending. I will endure the obstacles and shattered dreams, and I will always remember His great love for me, and the gifts He bestows all the while the plot twisting and thickening. I will choose to always see the loves He has put into my life, my hubby, my kiddos, my sisters, my mom, my friends, my in-law's, and yes, the material things too ---- like these darling purses that mom gave us. Thank you, Mom!
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Some days...
Some days aren't all days, and that is a good thing.
Most days - I live more fully, realizing the brevity of life and the need to live it more fully. I really enjoy the glow in my sons' eyes when they find some "amazing" subject to gaze upon... like a walk signal or a roley-poley bug. Most days, even at the cemetery, I am comforted by the thought of where my daughter is, her holy surroundings, her savior looking into her eyes, taking in the soul He created. Her death is sad, but it is also joyous. I mourn her even though I also celebrate God's gift to her and to all of us who trust Him. We will all find the same end. In turn, each of us will have an end that will be a beginning. Most days I feel Him close. My God has shown Himself faithful even in the difficult moments.
Most days are also not all days, and this was just one of those days... one of those other days, one of those some days.
Some days there is a pit in my stomach, a lump sitting in my throat --- yes, all day. I'm never sure when these days will come along. The only good thing is that they remind me of the rest of the days, when I am less emotional, less harried, less fragile in a world of "normal". The some days don't last, and I know that "this too shall pass". Not without pain, not without some tears, but it will pass, and a different day will soon be here.
No matter what "day" I am having, I am always going to be different, changed. I used to be normal, whatever that is, if it even exists. I used to be less affected by things. I also used to feel less, slow down less, read less, pray less, listen less. I used to live less. I am glad, that she has affected me so. I am able sometimes to realize I didn't have a second to take her for granted, that I didn't once grumble as I got out of bed in the middle of the night to feed her. I didn't have a moment to get frustrated at the mess she made or a time to feel guilty because I left her in the swing for an hour and a half. These are things that I think about. As I anticipate this new babe, I will be able to hold him and love on him in a greater capacity. I can say that I am more patient with the boys, most days. I am able to say, "because she is gone, I will live better, I will make my faithful God known to more people around me. Her short life has enabled me to feel more and live more.
However, with my new normal comes the some day. That some day, was today.
Today I saw a baby girl in every grocery aisle. Some just so new that their mothers had dark circles beneath their eyes. Others were older, babbling and squeeling, drooling on a rattle or their shoe. Their sweet faces peering at my boys, in my cart, at me, and then back to their mothers, and then a smile and a giggle... so sweet. Some days it feels as though I am a walking pity party. So pathetic when I think of parents who want a child and haven't been able to have one. So pathetic when I have two boys, and one on the way, not to be grateful. I am... I really am, most days. It is just some days. Some days... like today, when I see Amelia's picture and physically ache for her to be here, when I am almost sick with the thought of her clinging to my leg in the kitchen as I stand there making lunch. I wish I had an entire load of pink and yellow and orange, instead of a couple shirts of mine to throw in with the reds, blues and greens. I trip over her car seat, which has not had a home for over a year. It has been awkwardly placed in several different rooms, sticking out, reminding me that I bought something pink, something permanent, something in preparation for someone who is missing from our home. I have three dresses hanging at the end of the boys' closet. They have no where to go. I can't part with them, and yet, there they hang, looking odd and out of place in a closet full of polos, next to Superman costumes. It is a day like today when I am bothered by those things more than usual. I feel like I am always apologizing to God, for not being thankful. It is also on these days when I am still asking "why her"? You would think I would be past this... I mean, it has been over a year. The many blessings I have, the family I have, the salvation He has given freely, these things I need to remember always. It is days like today, when I need to remember that even though I am suffering, I now have a tiny bit more in common with the one who suffered so great, who was scorned and hated, who paid the ultimate price for us, for me.
I know that most days I can be extra gentle with my neighbor, my friend, the stranger in the parking lot, for I do not know what his or her day has been like. Maybe they buried a sister, a father, or a friend today, or yesterday, or maybe over a year ago, and they are having one of those days. Maybe they just found out they have cancer, maybe they were laid off today, or were handed divorce papers yesterday, or last week. Most days I can take a step back, and with God's grace, get out of "the funk" I am in. I can be extra gentle, and share some of the grace I have been given. The source is endless if only we would choose to ask for it.
Everyday I need His grace. Everyday He provides it. His grace was always present in my life, but now, especially some days, like today, I am more aware of it. As the title of my blog says, "His Grace Abides". This is my new normal, living ever mindful of His grace for me. Especially on a day like today, well, yesterday actually.
Most days - I live more fully, realizing the brevity of life and the need to live it more fully. I really enjoy the glow in my sons' eyes when they find some "amazing" subject to gaze upon... like a walk signal or a roley-poley bug. Most days, even at the cemetery, I am comforted by the thought of where my daughter is, her holy surroundings, her savior looking into her eyes, taking in the soul He created. Her death is sad, but it is also joyous. I mourn her even though I also celebrate God's gift to her and to all of us who trust Him. We will all find the same end. In turn, each of us will have an end that will be a beginning. Most days I feel Him close. My God has shown Himself faithful even in the difficult moments.
Most days are also not all days, and this was just one of those days... one of those other days, one of those some days.
Some days there is a pit in my stomach, a lump sitting in my throat --- yes, all day. I'm never sure when these days will come along. The only good thing is that they remind me of the rest of the days, when I am less emotional, less harried, less fragile in a world of "normal". The some days don't last, and I know that "this too shall pass". Not without pain, not without some tears, but it will pass, and a different day will soon be here.
No matter what "day" I am having, I am always going to be different, changed. I used to be normal, whatever that is, if it even exists. I used to be less affected by things. I also used to feel less, slow down less, read less, pray less, listen less. I used to live less. I am glad, that she has affected me so. I am able sometimes to realize I didn't have a second to take her for granted, that I didn't once grumble as I got out of bed in the middle of the night to feed her. I didn't have a moment to get frustrated at the mess she made or a time to feel guilty because I left her in the swing for an hour and a half. These are things that I think about. As I anticipate this new babe, I will be able to hold him and love on him in a greater capacity. I can say that I am more patient with the boys, most days. I am able to say, "because she is gone, I will live better, I will make my faithful God known to more people around me. Her short life has enabled me to feel more and live more.
However, with my new normal comes the some day. That some day, was today.
Today I saw a baby girl in every grocery aisle. Some just so new that their mothers had dark circles beneath their eyes. Others were older, babbling and squeeling, drooling on a rattle or their shoe. Their sweet faces peering at my boys, in my cart, at me, and then back to their mothers, and then a smile and a giggle... so sweet. Some days it feels as though I am a walking pity party. So pathetic when I think of parents who want a child and haven't been able to have one. So pathetic when I have two boys, and one on the way, not to be grateful. I am... I really am, most days. It is just some days. Some days... like today, when I see Amelia's picture and physically ache for her to be here, when I am almost sick with the thought of her clinging to my leg in the kitchen as I stand there making lunch. I wish I had an entire load of pink and yellow and orange, instead of a couple shirts of mine to throw in with the reds, blues and greens. I trip over her car seat, which has not had a home for over a year. It has been awkwardly placed in several different rooms, sticking out, reminding me that I bought something pink, something permanent, something in preparation for someone who is missing from our home. I have three dresses hanging at the end of the boys' closet. They have no where to go. I can't part with them, and yet, there they hang, looking odd and out of place in a closet full of polos, next to Superman costumes. It is a day like today when I am bothered by those things more than usual. I feel like I am always apologizing to God, for not being thankful. It is also on these days when I am still asking "why her"? You would think I would be past this... I mean, it has been over a year. The many blessings I have, the family I have, the salvation He has given freely, these things I need to remember always. It is days like today, when I need to remember that even though I am suffering, I now have a tiny bit more in common with the one who suffered so great, who was scorned and hated, who paid the ultimate price for us, for me.
I know that most days I can be extra gentle with my neighbor, my friend, the stranger in the parking lot, for I do not know what his or her day has been like. Maybe they buried a sister, a father, or a friend today, or yesterday, or maybe over a year ago, and they are having one of those days. Maybe they just found out they have cancer, maybe they were laid off today, or were handed divorce papers yesterday, or last week. Most days I can take a step back, and with God's grace, get out of "the funk" I am in. I can be extra gentle, and share some of the grace I have been given. The source is endless if only we would choose to ask for it.
Everyday I need His grace. Everyday He provides it. His grace was always present in my life, but now, especially some days, like today, I am more aware of it. As the title of my blog says, "His Grace Abides". This is my new normal, living ever mindful of His grace for me. Especially on a day like today, well, yesterday actually.
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