Friday, July 26, 2013



Today it hit me like a load of bricks -- the unbelievably beautiful and blessed life God has given me. For sometime now, I'm afraid the sneaky siren of comparison had slithered into my mind when I wasn't looking and became so in tune with my thoughts that I began interpreting them as my own. Feelings of "less than" and "not enough" began to ickify my soul along with their friends, worry and fear. These are the companions that all to often get cozy and at home in my life and then as they nestle into their familiar spots, I begin to overlook them like the carpet stain that when it first occurred glared frighteningly at you every time you crossed its path, but now is not even recognized as something that shouldn't be a part of the room. These feelings make themselves at home inside me and before I know it I am playing the role of hostess, asking if they would like cream or sugar in their tea.

Why do I not notice them immediately for the sinful states they are?

But sometimes I am gifted with a rush of clarity from God reminding me that all my worth and all my value comes from God alone -- nowhere else. No comparison with anyone other than Christ will help me on this path to holiness. Only resting and trusting in God will guide me to becoming more and more of what God wants me to be.

The distractions of this world are far too prevalent and I'm sure they will lure and entice me again into those icky feelings, but my prayer today is that God would renew my mind and my heart to recognize those situations when they arise and to race to Him immediately before they find a resting place.

But God put his love on the line for us by offering his Son in sacrificial death while we were of no use whatever to him. Romans 5:8 The Message

This Scripture emphasizes to me the overwhelming love God has for me and for you. May we rest in this love today and everyday.

Blessings on the journey.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Finding Focus in the Frenzy


Sweet Saturday mornings spent baking beautiful blueberry muffins that pop easily from the pan, perfectly baked, perfectly wholesome.  Mornings spent lingering over Scripture with my cup of coffee and my journal.  Mornings with time available -- no rush, no hurry, just the chance to be.

How quickly life changes with the flip of the calendar.  Here it is Wednesday and those lingering memories of a quiet Saturday morning are just that -- faint wafts of what was, but certainly isn't now.  The schedule fills with work, with chores, with meetings, with a million little things that seem to pile on a to do list.

The beautiful muffins are replaced with a burnt bundt that for a few moments smelled heavenly from the kitchen until the wafting scent of apples and cinnamon is replaced with char.  Oops.  Too long.  A race to the remnant with knife in hand to try to loosen the cake from the pan only makes scars on what was before a pristine and perfect pan.  Now regret fills the void and the realization hits that it has been many days since that beautiful Saturday morning where time was at a plenty and communion with God was so natural and real.

Maybe those Saturdays are far out of reach for you as well.  How often do we truly get to take in those moments?  I can tell a drastic difference in my heart, my mind, my attitude when I have neglected time in the Word and as much as I try to make excuse after excuse and rationalize my time away, God knows.  And in the midst of the frenzy I have created for myself, He continues to call me to "be still".  In the midst of the frenzy God is there, calling, loving, waiting.  No matter how many baking catastrophes I have made or, as is usual, life missteps I have taken, God is present and waiting, drawing me unto Himself.  And it is into His arms I bring my repentant heart and ask to start again, refreshed and renewed.  In the midst of the frenzy, there is peace.

Blessings on the journey.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Wash Away

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="487"]Image Source: Microsoft Word Clip Art[/caption]

We sat together eyes closed, heads bowed.  The familiar melody rang through the air.  The melody of a hymn such a part of me that I could recall the words in my sleep.

What can wash away my sin?

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

What can make me whole again?  

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Oh, precious is the flow that makes me white as snow.  

No other fount I know.

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Those words written by Robert Lowry so many years ago still speak to our souls.  As the stillness and quiet of prayer took over the service, I grasped my husband's hand and heard the sound of raindrops beating down on the roof of the church.  It was in that moment that I was drawn back to the truth in the text of the hymn.  What can wash away all of my sin, all my mistakes?  What can bring wholeness?  Nothing but Jesus.  Could the rain be another reminder from God, another promise to us?  Do not dwell on the past for it has been washed away.  You have been renewed, refreshed, my child.

We have experienced an unprecedented amount of rain in our area lately and I am so thankful for it.  With it's abundance the grass is greener and the world looks brighter.  If we allow the truth of God's love to fully indwell us, will we be more vibrant, more life-filled as well?

This is all my hope and peace.

This is all my righteousness.

The blood of Jesus and the love he has for us.  His saving grace.  All our hope.  All our peace.  All that any good in our lives can come from.  If we truly let go of all the past worry, doubt, and mistakes that keep us from clear communion with God and cling with repentant hearts to our only Hope, then we will experience the life abundant God calls us to.  The journey of letting go and learning to trust is the one I find myself on and each day, each step on the path is a challenge, but pursuing holiness is worth it.  The beauty is we never walk it alone.

May the love of Jesus Christ indwell you richly and renew you day by day.

Blessings for the journey.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

The Edge

Her tiny toes, sprinkled with flecks of red from the Marks a Lot marker she thought would be the perfect polish color, grip the edge of the diving board.  The water seems so far away in her mind's eye, though in reality mere inches, less than a foot, separate her from the beautiful clear blue liquid.  She hesitates.  She falters.  She turns and walks to the back of the diving board.  And then, with a new found bravery not fully her own, but entrusted to her, growing inside her, she walks to the edge, takes a leap and jumps.  For a split second she is suspended in the not knowing, in the uncertainty, and in the exhilaration that such a leap brings before the water greets her, welcomes her, cools her on a hot summer day.  And all she wants to do now is swim to the stairs, climb out of the pool and jump in again.  

It is in the leap that so much hangs in the balance.  If we can let go of the fears and doubts and questions and trust, but that is easier said than done.  So many voices cloud our decisions, our choices, our own thoughts and that Still Small Voice always present, always constant, always with us can be more difficult to discern.  When we let our fears, doubts and worries keep us from abiding and trusting that Still Small Voice, we limit our capacity to do the work God is calling us to.

The little girl is me.

This week I have known it was time to enter this space in the universe.  Truth be told, this knowing has been present in my heart for much longer than a week.  I've known with this sense of purpose bravery has been given, but not yet grasped.  And yet.  Here I am, Lord.  So, here I am and my prayer is that this space will allow an opportunity to remember, to abide, to dwell in our certain hope in Christ Jesus because sometimes that hope can seem just out of grasp, but the true miracle is that Hope holds on to us.

Blessings on the journey.