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A Pocketful of Promises

On Monday morning, I looked at my calendar and drew a diagonal line through each day of the previous week.

Activities that once occupied the twenty-four hour spaces of my life were history.

  • Appointments
  • Meetings
  • School projects
  • Athletic events
  • Lunch dates
  • Errands
  • Work.

What my calendar didn’t reflect was the myriad of emotions I experienced during that time.

  • Regret
  • Frustration 
  • Anger 
  • Depression
  • Fear
  • Joy
  • Satisfaction

No, I’m not going through “the change.” LIFE HAPPENS!

Some days might feel like a treadmill, going nowhere, but my emotions don’t flat line.  

While my heart is beating, I will experience the rugged terrain that comes with this territory called life. All I can do is walk it out as best I can.

One day at a time.

Accepting whatever comes my way.

Learning to bend with the wind so I don’t break.

IMG_4604

And on the days I struggle to “Walk by faith and not by sight”

When I CAN’T ….

  • Make sense of life
  • Control other people’s actions/responses
  • Control my own moods/flaws
  • Make a difference in the world

I CAN trust God’s promises because….

  • GOD CAN:   “But He said, “The things which are impossible with men are possible with God.” (Luke 18:27)
  • GOD is ABLE:  “to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.” (Ephesians 3:20)
  • GOD DOES:  “work for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)
  • GOD SHALL:  “supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19)

Clinging to God’s promises enables me to look at the coming week and rest, assured He holds the future.

Confident I can trust Him even in the best and worst of times.

Need Permission?

This Mother’s Day weekend, give yourself permission.…to relax and enjoy being alive.

“My heart is not proud, Lord,
my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.
 But I have calmed and quieted myself,
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.” (Psalm 131:1-2)

Thought for the day:

“The quickest way for a parent to get a child’s attention is to sit down and look comfortable.” ~Lane Olinghouse

And the Winner Is?

I lay in bed, my mind in a fetal position.

Drugged by the words I’d read in an article: “Sex After Christianity” by Rod Dreher

Christians have lost the cultural war. What will Christianity look like in 40 years?   

Wars, terrorist’s bombings, sex trafficking, Dr. Gossner’s gruesome third-trimester abortions, the gun slaughter of children in their classrooms …and now I had to think about the demise of the Christian church?

How could I sleep knowing the enemy prowls this earth like a lion seeking to kill and destroy? And to the victor go the spoils: men’s unsaved souls.

When I awoke, my heart was an anchor dragging me through the day. My facial expression looked as though someone had died.

Then I remembered SOMEONE HAD DIED.

“For Christ also died for sins once for all, the just for the unjust, in order that He might bring us to God, having been put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit.” (1 Peter 3:18)

Buoyed by truth, I listened to praise music. Instead of world news, I focused on the GOOD NEWS…the gospel of Christ, the only hope for humanity.

Battles are waged, but the war for righteousness was won centuries ago…by the Prince of Peace who came to earth to reconcile man to God.

But at the time, Jesus  didn’t look like the victor. Instead of wearing an olive wreath, he wore a crown of thorns.

Did Satan dance a jig, give his demons “a high five” when he watched Jesus shedding blood on the cross?

Did the smug, self-righteous religious leaders think they’d won by silencing the man who claimed to be the Son of God? A victory short-lived once they heard people claim Christ had risen from the grave.

Did Christ’s apostles taste victory as they died a martyr’s death?

Did the culture appear to win while Christians were thrown to the lions, impaled on stakes?

Even now the blood and the Voice of the Martyrs across this globe cry out, “How long, O Lord, holy and true, wilt Thou refrain from judging and avenging our blood on those who dwell on the earth?” (Rev 6:10)

Rest assured, Jesus says, “I am coming quickly, and My reward is with Me, to render to every man according to what he has done.”(Revelation 22:12)

And knowing this, I laughed in the face of the enemy. You fooled me. For a second, I thought all was lost. But that’s not true….

“For whatever is born of God overcomes the world; and this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith. And who is the one who overcomes the world, but he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?” (1 John 5:4, 5)

Blame it on an “Act of God”

The newspaper said it was an “act of God.” And they didn’t mean a miracle.

A major storm blew through the area, and the falling debris from trees damaged someone’s car. The car owner’s insurance company refused to pay for repair costs because it was considered an “act of God.”

How strange, and convenient for insurance companies, when men deny the existence of God in one breath, and point fingers of blame at Him when bad things occur.

Am I guilty of that mentality?

Blaming bad things on an “act of God” and ignoring Him when my life runs smoothly?

What is an “ACT OF GOD?” Supernatural, unexplained, an insurance clause?

Was it not an Act of God that redeemed my soul?

Aren’t mankind and nature a wondrous Act of God?  

How many countless, merciful Acts of God occur throughout my life—many times without my knowledge—to spare me from calamity, or the consequences of my own sin?

jen pic for blog

Some days, I choose to ignore the collateral damage of this fallen world, and praise God for His blessed acts.

I breathe in the scent of fresh-cut grass, and sweet Jasmine growing on the vine. Listen to the melody of birdsong, and watch them nourish themselves at my feeder.

“God’s in his heaven, and all’s well with the world.”

But if I only praise God when  

My world feels good.

My health is better.

My bank account is in the black.

The sun is shining.

Then I’m a fair-weather friend. I’m only in relationship with God for the good things He gives me, rather than for Him alone.

And if that’s true, then I’m no different than the birds. They don’t come for me; they come for the seeds I provide.

 God help me.

I don’t want to be like the multitude of people who followed Jesus because they were hungry and knew he could miraculously feed the masses with five barley loaves and two fish.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, you seek Me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate of the loaves, and were filled. (John 6: 26)

I don’t want to be like insurance companies, eager to blame God for damages, and never giving Him the glory for His awesome deeds.

Instead, “I will sing to Him, sing praises to Him; Speak of all His wonders.” (Psalm 105:2)

Pluck Them Eyes

IMG_2497Two women wanted to meet me, see my home.

Marriage does that…opens doors to kinfolk who are strangers, welcomes them as family. How could I know God would use their visit to pluck my eyes.

Avid gardeners, these women wanted to see my yard.

Spring colors littered the landscape. Lavender plants, yellow Columbine, blue Chinese Forget-Me-Not, red Camellias, and pink Azaleas soaked up the afternoon sun. Iris and Day Lilies just shy of blooming swayed in the gentle breeze.

My guests cooed over each plant as though they were my children. But sadly, …

All I noticed were the weeds.

weed

April showers and procrastination had kept me from my garden. Dead limbs needed amputation. Wild stalks of grass as tall as my kneecaps vied for attention. Dandelions growing between the flagstone steps were so plentiful I could have made Dandelion Wine.

I cringed as we walked the garden path. Confessed flimsy excuses. My guests seemed blind to the weeds, or were being polite.

When they drove away, I yanked one thorny weed out of the ground and threw it down. A warning to the stubborn weeds, “Your day will come!”

BUT as I washed the dirt from my manicured nails, I got to thinking ….

For a woman who tends to view her circumstances through rose-colored glasses, I have a problem with critical eyes.

Critical eyes magnify the negative.

Like the weeds, a pimple on my face is a giant red flag on an otherwise healthy epidermis. I see the lack of muscle tone in my legs instead of their ability to walk. I focus on the crumbs on my kitchen counter instead of the food in my pantry.

When I’m doing housework,  I can’t see the clean for the dirt. And I’ll spot a 76% on my son’s schoolwork quicker than I notice three 100’s.

I’m being honest here.

Critical eyes pinpoint Faults in people instead of their Gifts.

Critical eyes breed self-righteousness.

Or paranoia, because surely other people look at me with equally critical eyes.

Critical eyes access everything

And finds no one, and nothing, is good enough.

Not even me.

So this week, I’m pulling weeds from my garden. And by God’s grace, and for the health of my soul, I’m plucking my critical eyes.

“The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light” (Matthew 6:22).