Teaming up with Kate Motaung and the bunch at http://katemotaung.com/2016/04/28/five-minute-friday-pass/. It's been far too long and I just couldn't pass up today's word: Pass.
Go:
Recently my family has encountered many different media with emphasis on witnessing, Scripture memory, and the persecuted church. As a result, I've had many thoughts and prayers swirling inside my heart.
One of the biggest players in the emphasis on the persecuted church has been a set of DVDs my Mother purchased for our family to watch together called Dispatches from the Front by Dr. Tim Keesee.
Dr. Keesee is a Christian journalist who travels to the world's difficult places meeting with missionaries in those areas and getting to see what the Lord is doing in those nations. It has been truly encouraging to see just a small part of what the Lord has been doing behind the scenes. (I say behind the scenes, because most of these people are ones I have never heard about and it is absolutely exciting to see the way the Lord's Kingdom is quietly, steadily being built!)
It has sparked so much emotion and longing in me and I find myself praying often during a viewing: "LORD, use me. Send me. Don't pass me by."
The words to that dear old hymn have come to mind frequently as a result: "Pass me not, O Gentle Savior, hear my humble cry. While on others Thou art calling, do not pass me by!"
One of the dearest stories in the Bible to me is that of Samuel being taught as just a child to respond to the Lord's calling with, "Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth" and similarly Isaiah's response to the glory and plea of God, "Here am I, send me."
So with these ancient saints and these modern-day ones, I plead, "Lord, pass me not. Use me, too, to further Thy Kingdom."
Friday, April 29, 2016
Thursday, March 24, 2016
Hold Me
“I wan’ you ta hol’ me!”
My little student’s nasally words were hard to refuse.
“We’re fixing to say the pledges, so I need to you stand up here by me, okay?” I whispered into his ear, my cheek brushing his smooth brown hair.
Not even a minute passed before it came again: “I wan’ you ta hol’ me!” His big, brown eyes below distressed eyebrows made my heart melt.
“I want to, too, but we can’t right now. We’re fixing to sing.”
Briefly, in the bedlam that constitutes my church’s Awana song time, little Claude forgot his desire. But seconds later as I stood there facing the big screen, singing and clapping, he came to stand in front of me with the plea again. His desire was one I would have gladly granted had it not hindered his need to learn discipline, patience, and maturity--and mine to employ it.
There’s a time and place for everything, but after I’d gotten home from church, I wondered if I had ever gotten around to holding him on my lap throughout our evening together.
I love “my children” as I call them. They are each precious, special, and unique individuals made by our detail-oriented Creator.
One of the sweetest parts about teaching the Cubbies class (3-5 year olds) is the cuddly-ness so many of them exhibit. I sit on the floor for only seconds before one (or three!) of them decide to plop down in my lap. I love it! I love that they feel comfortable with me. I love getting to tousle their hair as I pass them, look into their specific-to-them pairs of eyes, comment on the toys they bring or their color sheets & crafts, pray with them, and give and get big bear hugs from them.
Over the past few weeks, little Claude has really changed. At first, I didn’t expect as much of him as I probably should have, (I guess partly because of his personality, partly because of his home life, and partly because I’m not the firm disciplinarian that I should be all the time), but I have noticed when I have “stuck to my guns” with him, eventually he has been persuaded to obey and now exhibits a love for me that I did not feel previously.
After I thought the evening over, I concluded that I did hold Claude at some point, but not as long as I would have liked. What was on his mind? Was he feeling threatened or did his day go badly for him? Was I the security he felt he lacked and, in his own way, he was asking for? And, did I miss giving him the love and attention that Christ would have given?
Sometimes, like Claude, I look up to my Heavenly Father and say, “I wan’ you ta hol’ me! Life is too hard right now. These challenges are too tall to jump over and my legs are too tired to go around. Please just hold me in Your arms.” The Lord is never constrained by “principles of decorum” or time restraints or busyness to refuse me.
I love the words from Deuteronomy 33:27a that say, "The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms:"
He is available and eager to hold His children and never refuses to gather me up and show me how strong He is.
Friday, February 19, 2016
A Love like Jesus'
It wasn't very long ago that I first "met" Roger Flournoy Jr. via a short documentary of sorts produced by the Austin Stone Community Church.
Mr. Flournoy has cerebral palsy, but despite the challenges that this presents, he is a passionate and convicting example of choosing to have faith and be joyful in the Lord.
Today as I was reading some of his tweets, I found this excellent quote:
"My goal for this year is only to love people the way that Jesus loves them."
Mr. Flournoy's goal challenges me.
In a world that knows "love" primarily as "showing affection (or doing whatever it takes) to gain whatever I want", the sacrificial love of Jesus Christ is completely baffling.
If I were to passionately, honestly pursue this goal, what a drastic change would take place! Of course, it is necessary to find out what the love of Jesus Christ really looks like; therefore, a continual taking in and meditating on Scripture is key.
Recently, I've been reading through Matthew and Mark and have seen many of the things that Jesus did during His time on earth in a physical body. From the Gospel books, I gain so much understanding of Jesus' type of love. From reaching out to diseased and despised women to socially-terrifying lepers, Jesus showed His unconcern for social stereotypes or physical contaminants. One of the most striking examples to me of Jesus' lack of self-awareness and love and concern for others is illustrated in Matthew 14:3, 10, 12-14,
"For Herod had laid hold on John, and bound him, and put him in prison for Herodias' sake, his brother Philip's wife.
And he sent, and beheaded John in the prison.
And his disciples came, and took up the body, and buried it, and went and told Jesus.
When Jesus heard of it, he departed thence by ship into a desert place apart: and when the people had heard thereof, they followed him on foot out of the cities.
And Jesus went forth, and saw a great multitude, and was moved with compassion toward them, and he healed their sick."
Despite the sorrow He must have felt at the death of His cousin (as a Man) and the death of His holy servant (as the Son of God), despite the sadness over the depravity of mankind that would lead to such a murder, Jesus instead focused on the needs and hurts of those around Him. That is a love like no other. That is a love that the world doesn't understand, can't offer, and, too often, doesn't experience from believers.
This is the year for that to change. With the Lord's help, I will pursue this goal.
Mr. Flournoy has cerebral palsy, but despite the challenges that this presents, he is a passionate and convicting example of choosing to have faith and be joyful in the Lord.
Today as I was reading some of his tweets, I found this excellent quote:
"My goal for this year is only to love people the way that Jesus loves them."
Mr. Flournoy's goal challenges me.
In a world that knows "love" primarily as "showing affection (or doing whatever it takes) to gain whatever I want", the sacrificial love of Jesus Christ is completely baffling.
If I were to passionately, honestly pursue this goal, what a drastic change would take place! Of course, it is necessary to find out what the love of Jesus Christ really looks like; therefore, a continual taking in and meditating on Scripture is key.
Recently, I've been reading through Matthew and Mark and have seen many of the things that Jesus did during His time on earth in a physical body. From the Gospel books, I gain so much understanding of Jesus' type of love. From reaching out to diseased and despised women to socially-terrifying lepers, Jesus showed His unconcern for social stereotypes or physical contaminants. One of the most striking examples to me of Jesus' lack of self-awareness and love and concern for others is illustrated in Matthew 14:3, 10, 12-14,
"For Herod had laid hold on John, and bound him, and put him in prison for Herodias' sake, his brother Philip's wife.
And he sent, and beheaded John in the prison.
And his disciples came, and took up the body, and buried it, and went and told Jesus.
When Jesus heard of it, he departed thence by ship into a desert place apart: and when the people had heard thereof, they followed him on foot out of the cities.
And Jesus went forth, and saw a great multitude, and was moved with compassion toward them, and he healed their sick."
Despite the sorrow He must have felt at the death of His cousin (as a Man) and the death of His holy servant (as the Son of God), despite the sadness over the depravity of mankind that would lead to such a murder, Jesus instead focused on the needs and hurts of those around Him. That is a love like no other. That is a love that the world doesn't understand, can't offer, and, too often, doesn't experience from believers.
This is the year for that to change. With the Lord's help, I will pursue this goal.
Five Minute Friday: Forget
Finally rejoining my fellow-writers at Kate Motaung's mighty-Friday link-up! Today's word, forget, is just right for sharing some great thoughts I caught at Desiring God today!
So, without further ado, here we go!
Why is it so easy to forget something that is so vital to life? In his article, "Rest in the Prince of Peace," Jon Bloom talks about the power and blessing of prayer when we come to the Lord with all that is on our mind and let Him take the weight for us.
Bloom indicates that prayer is like a natural exhalation for the faith-filled believer and further says that "prayer is the native language of faith" a quote which I fell in love with. Maybe the reason I relate to it so much is due to the topics that are on my mind of late.
Namely: missionaries who are ministering to tribes in their own "heart language", the issue of worry that at least three of my friends have noticed in me (a fault that sneakily has flown under my radar for far too long!), and various needs and decisions that have seemed to swamp me in my mental "quiet place".
Yet if, as Bloom encourages, taking "every thing to God in prayer" is the way to the blessed and peaceful life, I want to do it!
I want to be that follower of Christ who "breathes out prayer" like the continual intake and export of air.
I want Jesus Christ and the pure,good, best!, solutions of my Father to be my first thought.
I want the advice and wisdom I can find in the true Word of God to be the things I live by. I don't want to forget.
As people ask me to pray for their needs, as decisions crop up in my life which need "urgent attention", may I forget my own "plan of attack",
or ideas,
or solutions,
and remember to take each need humbly to my Loving Heavenly Father Who cares and can help.
So, without further ado, here we go!
Why is it so easy to forget something that is so vital to life? In his article, "Rest in the Prince of Peace," Jon Bloom talks about the power and blessing of prayer when we come to the Lord with all that is on our mind and let Him take the weight for us.
Bloom indicates that prayer is like a natural exhalation for the faith-filled believer and further says that "prayer is the native language of faith" a quote which I fell in love with. Maybe the reason I relate to it so much is due to the topics that are on my mind of late.
Namely: missionaries who are ministering to tribes in their own "heart language", the issue of worry that at least three of my friends have noticed in me (a fault that sneakily has flown under my radar for far too long!), and various needs and decisions that have seemed to swamp me in my mental "quiet place".
Yet if, as Bloom encourages, taking "every thing to God in prayer" is the way to the blessed and peaceful life, I want to do it!
I want to be that follower of Christ who "breathes out prayer" like the continual intake and export of air.
I want Jesus Christ and the pure,
I want the advice and wisdom I can find in the true Word of God to be the things I live by. I don't want to forget.
As people ask me to pray for their needs, as decisions crop up in my life which need "urgent attention", may I forget my own "plan of attack",
or ideas,
or solutions,
and remember to take each need humbly to my Loving Heavenly Father Who cares and can help.
Friday, February 5, 2016
Five Minute Friday: Focus
Today joining Five Minute Friday after long last! The word is Focus. (Why don't you come along with me and see what my fellow FMF writers have to say about focusing?)
Start.
"I have trouble focusing sometimes," he said. I smiled; I had noticed. But then, I had trouble with getting distracted easily myself, so who was I to judge? Still though, inside I thought, "Just focus."
In life, besides getting distracted with irrelevant movement and noise, we're bombarded with irrelevant information, even faulty news that can have a damaging affect on our lives if we're not careful.
Recently I got a jolt to realize that, spiritually, I was looking pretty bankrupt. I began to take in large chunks of Scripture, trying to focus again on Christ, trying to get back into alignment with my Lord.
Mercifully, it is working. The Lord has worked (and is working) to "regain my full face" that was pulled away and not focusing on His wonderful face.
He's also teaching more about trusting Him.
For years I have know that He is trustworthy, but there was always that nagging thought in the back of my mind, "But can /I/ trust Him?" Not that He is worthy of being doubted, but am I able to trust? to put my full weight against Him and know that He will hold me up? Do I have that ability or am I hopeless?
Yes, I am hopeless. Without Christ, I am hopeless. But through Christ, I am the victor as He patiently teaches me to focus on Him and put my full weight and all my trust in Him.
Tonight I am stretching out my hand, reaching toward focusing on the gloriousness of my Savior. Will you join me?
End.
Start.
"I have trouble focusing sometimes," he said. I smiled; I had noticed. But then, I had trouble with getting distracted easily myself, so who was I to judge? Still though, inside I thought, "Just focus."
In life, besides getting distracted with irrelevant movement and noise, we're bombarded with irrelevant information, even faulty news that can have a damaging affect on our lives if we're not careful.
Recently I got a jolt to realize that, spiritually, I was looking pretty bankrupt. I began to take in large chunks of Scripture, trying to focus again on Christ, trying to get back into alignment with my Lord.
Mercifully, it is working. The Lord has worked (and is working) to "regain my full face" that was pulled away and not focusing on His wonderful face.
He's also teaching more about trusting Him.
For years I have know that He is trustworthy, but there was always that nagging thought in the back of my mind, "But can /I/ trust Him?" Not that He is worthy of being doubted, but am I able to trust? to put my full weight against Him and know that He will hold me up? Do I have that ability or am I hopeless?
Yes, I am hopeless. Without Christ, I am hopeless. But through Christ, I am the victor as He patiently teaches me to focus on Him and put my full weight and all my trust in Him.
Tonight I am stretching out my hand, reaching toward focusing on the gloriousness of my Savior. Will you join me?
End.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
"The Proof of Your Love"
I'm not the biggest fan of contemporary Christian music, yet there are some songs I hear from time to time that stir something within me beyond what I can put into cognitive phrases. "The Proof of Your Love" is one of those songs.
Performed by the band For King and Country, it is the song-form of the well-known "love passage" of 1 Corinthians 13. It impacted me when I first heard it, but days and years have a way of making me forgetful. I find that that song has taken its place among hundreds of beloved songs I wish I could remember all the time, but which sadly are waiting for me to unearth them from the complicated filing system of my brain.
Today, something or Someone (my Lord, Who does best at reminding me of important things), made me think of this song, so I looked it up on youtube to see what I could find.
King and Country's official video of the song dramatically portrays the power of love. I pulled back a bit at first, both intrigued and uncertain as to what the characters and plot were really depicting. After watching it over and over, I find that I am touched by the drama almost as much as I was originally touched by the words. If you aren't "into" this kind of thing, excuse my ramblings, please. But if you take a look, maybe you'll be as positively impacted as I am being. Here is the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-2dKOfbC9c.
I am including the full chapter of 1 Corinthians 13 (found from Biblegateway.com) that my mother taught Kyrie and myself when we were children. These words never grow old.
3 And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
4 Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
5 Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
6 Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
7 Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
8 Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
10 But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.
11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.
Performed by the band For King and Country, it is the song-form of the well-known "love passage" of 1 Corinthians 13. It impacted me when I first heard it, but days and years have a way of making me forgetful. I find that that song has taken its place among hundreds of beloved songs I wish I could remember all the time, but which sadly are waiting for me to unearth them from the complicated filing system of my brain.
Today, something or Someone (my Lord, Who does best at reminding me of important things), made me think of this song, so I looked it up on youtube to see what I could find.
King and Country's official video of the song dramatically portrays the power of love. I pulled back a bit at first, both intrigued and uncertain as to what the characters and plot were really depicting. After watching it over and over, I find that I am touched by the drama almost as much as I was originally touched by the words. If you aren't "into" this kind of thing, excuse my ramblings, please. But if you take a look, maybe you'll be as positively impacted as I am being. Here is the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-2dKOfbC9c.
I am including the full chapter of 1 Corinthians 13 (found from Biblegateway.com) that my mother taught Kyrie and myself when we were children. These words never grow old.
1 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
2 And
though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and
all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove
mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.3 And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
4 Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
5 Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
6 Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
7 Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
8 Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
9 For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
10 But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.
11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.
Monday, December 21, 2015
Christmas Ramblings
"I'll get all the ingredients together and then when Kyrie gets in, we can stir it up together."
My Mother began rummaging in her deep chest freezer for the candied fruit stored there. Even though I can barely make heads or tails of it sometimes, she usually has the deep freeze all figured out in her mind. She has a system, she knows where things are in her realms, not just in her food storage, but in her desk and dresser drawers, her closet, and the under-bed storage containers. "A place for everything and everything in its place" my Grandfather used to say. I guess she got it from him. It was passed down to Kyrie, too. If I ask to borrow anything from her, be it shirt or stapler, she can tell me exactly where whatever it is should be. "Top right-hand drawer in my desk on the left-hand side at the back" she might say and there it will be. She has the gift of organization, definitely. I guess that's why she's such a great secretary at Victory Road Academy.
So Mother gathered the ingredients. The night before she had searched through her recipes for just the right one: The Grandmother's special fruitcake recipe. You may laugh. You're welcome to. Maybe your encounters with fruitcake have been less than pleasant. Perhaps you have always thought that fruitcake was no more than a joke, a gift you give to those you want to prank. Not so with our family. Oh my! this is the best fruitcake ever. I can't give you the recipe (top secret, you understand), but I will say it doesn't have a drop of alcohol in it and it does have an ingredient that causes me to feel curiously smug: a cup of decaf coffee! :) Yep, my Grandmother's fruitcake is the best. Last year we didn't make it. There were several things that we didn't do last year without our dear Grandmother, but this year making fruitcake was on our list of "musts".
So Kyrie came in and in just two or so hours, we had the cakes slid in the oven. Okay, it shouldn't really take that long, but we weren't in any hurry and, too, after a year of not making it, we had to be refreshed on just how to do it. But after all the prep time and all the baking time, the results were well worth it!!
Fruitcak-ing isn't the only thing we've "been into". We got the decorations put up the day after Thanksgiving. (If you haven't seen this video, you really should! Ky and I found it hilarious and so relatable!) We've spent time watching movies as a family and playing some games. Tonight, though, I found myself sitting with my family and wanting to find something fascinating to look at as I surfed the internet. My thoughts were distracted by the recent holiday outfit updates one trendy mom has posted on her pulled-together blog. She's so perfect. So pretty. So stylish. Another "cyber sister" and her life floated through my thoughts. Her family is gorgeous. She is sweet and gentle, honest, and humble. Her photography is excellent and her blog posts leave me gazing and longing.... and discontented. "When I marry...." or "When I have my own home..." These are the thoughts that march unchecked across the terrain of my brain. Wait a Minute!! Who said you could get in here?! I closed the lid of my computer and looked around our living room. Dad had headed to bed by this time, but I had gotten to play three games of Mancala with him. Mother sat beside me looking at her computer and Kyrie was brushing her teeth in the bathroom just down the hall. I began to express appreciation for the things I could see around me. Although I felt kinda crazy doing it, I needed to do it. Not just for me, but maybe for my family, too. "Don't say what you don't like," Kyrie had said once. "Talk about what you love." I don't think the saying was necessarily original with her, but it was so true and I, who have a tendency to be negative at times, have tried to implement it as I think to do so.
"I love our floor rug. It is so pretty. That was so sweet of Aunt Edna to get it for us." My eyes moved to our furniture set. "We've got a nice mission-style coffee table." I lit on the items collected on the shiny glass surface Kyrie had bought for Mother ten years ago. Mother had so wanted something to protect the top of her spiffy coffee table and Kyrie with her huge, generous heart had bought it for her. "I like the Christmas magazines Kyrie put out for us to enjoy. They're so Christmas-ey." Kyrie poked her head out. "What did you say?" I repeated myself. "Oh," she smiled that cute, pleased grin of hers.
"I like the pinecones," I continued. "They're so simple and decorative. I like my metal bell and its cheery 'ring-tone." I laughed. "I like our ornaments and our variegated lights. I like our garland. I like our Purple Angel. She's so regal and elegant." This little crepe lady has adorned our bookcase at Christmastime for years. Purple's not really a Christmas color, but Kyrie and I love her and pull her out each year to join our assortment of mix-matched, sentiment-filled conglomeration of Christmas decorations. "I love our Christmas card from the Steiners. It's so retro and Christmas-cheery." Mother hadn't really said anything yet, but she smiled and nodded intermittently as she researched better quilting methods. Kyrie hadn't seen the Steiner's card and now arose to inspect the card. "Ooh!" (Obviously she liked it, too.)
"I like our straw paper garland on the rafia/twine. It's so simple and special."
Suddenly my home was wonderful. It had been all along, but I had been so caught up in someone else's life, in those who have "perfect existences" (when I know better; they really don't have flawless lives). I hadn't taken time to consider all the special parts about my own. I have so much to be grateful for, to thank my Heavenly Father for, and yet I had focused on what others have that I don't. How sad. How shameful that it was so easy to do.
I started reading Corrie ten Boom's Tramp for the Lord (with Jamie Buckingham) tonight. Her dependence upon the Lord is so convicting to read. I fear all I have being stripped away: my family, friends, health, any attractiveness I might have, anything I have "going for me". But doesn't that indicate that I'm leaning on them instead of the One Who gave them to me? And if He should take them away, which He has the right to do if He so chose, what would my reaction be? Would I be drawn to Him because of that pain or would I shrivel up like a plant with too little soil? This Christmas I have so much to learn, not only in culinary skills, but in my relationship with the Lord Jesus. Is He enough for me? Yes, Christ is Enough. He is More Than Enough,... but do I know it?
My Mother began rummaging in her deep chest freezer for the candied fruit stored there. Even though I can barely make heads or tails of it sometimes, she usually has the deep freeze all figured out in her mind. She has a system, she knows where things are in her realms, not just in her food storage, but in her desk and dresser drawers, her closet, and the under-bed storage containers. "A place for everything and everything in its place" my Grandfather used to say. I guess she got it from him. It was passed down to Kyrie, too. If I ask to borrow anything from her, be it shirt or stapler, she can tell me exactly where whatever it is should be. "Top right-hand drawer in my desk on the left-hand side at the back" she might say and there it will be. She has the gift of organization, definitely. I guess that's why she's such a great secretary at Victory Road Academy.
So Mother gathered the ingredients. The night before she had searched through her recipes for just the right one: The Grandmother's special fruitcake recipe. You may laugh. You're welcome to. Maybe your encounters with fruitcake have been less than pleasant. Perhaps you have always thought that fruitcake was no more than a joke, a gift you give to those you want to prank. Not so with our family. Oh my! this is the best fruitcake ever. I can't give you the recipe (top secret, you understand), but I will say it doesn't have a drop of alcohol in it and it does have an ingredient that causes me to feel curiously smug: a cup of decaf coffee! :) Yep, my Grandmother's fruitcake is the best. Last year we didn't make it. There were several things that we didn't do last year without our dear Grandmother, but this year making fruitcake was on our list of "musts".
So Kyrie came in and in just two or so hours, we had the cakes slid in the oven. Okay, it shouldn't really take that long, but we weren't in any hurry and, too, after a year of not making it, we had to be refreshed on just how to do it. But after all the prep time and all the baking time, the results were well worth it!!
Fruitcak-ing isn't the only thing we've "been into". We got the decorations put up the day after Thanksgiving. (If you haven't seen this video, you really should! Ky and I found it hilarious and so relatable!) We've spent time watching movies as a family and playing some games. Tonight, though, I found myself sitting with my family and wanting to find something fascinating to look at as I surfed the internet. My thoughts were distracted by the recent holiday outfit updates one trendy mom has posted on her pulled-together blog. She's so perfect. So pretty. So stylish. Another "cyber sister" and her life floated through my thoughts. Her family is gorgeous. She is sweet and gentle, honest, and humble. Her photography is excellent and her blog posts leave me gazing and longing.... and discontented. "When I marry...." or "When I have my own home..." These are the thoughts that march unchecked across the terrain of my brain. Wait a Minute!! Who said you could get in here?! I closed the lid of my computer and looked around our living room. Dad had headed to bed by this time, but I had gotten to play three games of Mancala with him. Mother sat beside me looking at her computer and Kyrie was brushing her teeth in the bathroom just down the hall. I began to express appreciation for the things I could see around me. Although I felt kinda crazy doing it, I needed to do it. Not just for me, but maybe for my family, too. "Don't say what you don't like," Kyrie had said once. "Talk about what you love." I don't think the saying was necessarily original with her, but it was so true and I, who have a tendency to be negative at times, have tried to implement it as I think to do so.
"I love our floor rug. It is so pretty. That was so sweet of Aunt Edna to get it for us." My eyes moved to our furniture set. "We've got a nice mission-style coffee table." I lit on the items collected on the shiny glass surface Kyrie had bought for Mother ten years ago. Mother had so wanted something to protect the top of her spiffy coffee table and Kyrie with her huge, generous heart had bought it for her. "I like the Christmas magazines Kyrie put out for us to enjoy. They're so Christmas-ey." Kyrie poked her head out. "What did you say?" I repeated myself. "Oh," she smiled that cute, pleased grin of hers.
"I like the pinecones," I continued. "They're so simple and decorative. I like my metal bell and its cheery 'ring-tone." I laughed. "I like our ornaments and our variegated lights. I like our garland. I like our Purple Angel. She's so regal and elegant." This little crepe lady has adorned our bookcase at Christmastime for years. Purple's not really a Christmas color, but Kyrie and I love her and pull her out each year to join our assortment of mix-matched, sentiment-filled conglomeration of Christmas decorations. "I love our Christmas card from the Steiners. It's so retro and Christmas-cheery." Mother hadn't really said anything yet, but she smiled and nodded intermittently as she researched better quilting methods. Kyrie hadn't seen the Steiner's card and now arose to inspect the card. "Ooh!" (Obviously she liked it, too.)
"I like our straw paper garland on the rafia/twine. It's so simple and special."
Suddenly my home was wonderful. It had been all along, but I had been so caught up in someone else's life, in those who have "perfect existences" (when I know better; they really don't have flawless lives). I hadn't taken time to consider all the special parts about my own. I have so much to be grateful for, to thank my Heavenly Father for, and yet I had focused on what others have that I don't. How sad. How shameful that it was so easy to do.
I started reading Corrie ten Boom's Tramp for the Lord (with Jamie Buckingham) tonight. Her dependence upon the Lord is so convicting to read. I fear all I have being stripped away: my family, friends, health, any attractiveness I might have, anything I have "going for me". But doesn't that indicate that I'm leaning on them instead of the One Who gave them to me? And if He should take them away, which He has the right to do if He so chose, what would my reaction be? Would I be drawn to Him because of that pain or would I shrivel up like a plant with too little soil? This Christmas I have so much to learn, not only in culinary skills, but in my relationship with the Lord Jesus. Is He enough for me? Yes, Christ is Enough. He is More Than Enough,... but do I know it?
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