Talent for the Task

     The Good Morning Girls at Women Living Well are reading through the book of Exodus during the months of February and March.  I am joining them on this journey.

    You can read my other Exodus posts here:

• Exodus 1-5  The Burning Bush 
• Exodus 6-10  Great Lengths
• Exodus 11-15  Brave Grace
• Exodus 16-20  Support on the Hill

     This weeks reading is all about the construction of the Tabernacle and the items that would go into it.  I was impressed with the level of detail that God provided in His instructions on building the Tabernacle.  God gave specific materials, lengths, and designs for each item that went into it.   The lampstands were to be made of gold and look like flowering branches.  The ten curtains were to be skillfully woven of fine linen in blue, purple, and scarlet bordered with cherubim.  The frame of the structure was to be made of acacia wood overlaid with gold.  Even the priests sacred clothing had about six different parts.  It all sounded extremely complicated.  I was rather glad that God didn’t ask me to build His tabernacle.  I just know it would be lopsided and unworthy of Him in every way.  But then I noticed, that God gave the ability and talent to the workers who were asked to complete the Tabernacle.

   Tell all the skilled workers to whom I have given wisdom in such matters that they are to make garments for Aaron, for his consecration, so he may serve me as priest.  ~Exodus 28:3

     I peeked ahead to Exodus 31 where God tells Moses that He has chosen and given Bezalel the talent to do the work required.

   Then the Lord said to Moses,  “See, I have chosen Bezalel son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah,  and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills—  to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze,  to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of crafts.  Moreover, I have appointed Oholiab son of Ahisamak, of the tribe of Dan, to help him. Also I have given ability to all the skilled workers to make everything I have commanded you:  ~Exodus 31:1-6

     When God had directed Moses from the burning bush to speak to Pharaoh,  Moses had hesitated and questioned whether he had the skills necessary.  He told God that he was "slow of speech."  So God supported Moses with Aaron.  In this instance, God reminds Moses that the talent has already been provided.

     While you and I see all of our many failures and lacks, God sees the potential that He has tucked inside.  He has graciously provided the skills to do the tasks He has set before us.  He will give us understanding, knowledge, and wisdom to do the work that He has assigned us.  He has filled us with His Holy Spirit.  This knowledge helps us to step out of our comfort zone and risk failure to try something new.  God gives ordinary people, extra-ordinary talents for His glory.
      What has God asked you to use your talent for?

Brave Grace

     God uses people to accomplish His purposes.  Plain, old,  ordinary people.  Like you and me.  Isn't that amazingly scary?
     The idea of being used by God was so astounding to Moses that he suggested that God use someone else.  Moses thought that his story was one of failure and shame.  He hesitated to let God use him.  Of course, Pharaoh was reluctant to listen to Moses to let the Israelites go.  And now that the Israelites were free, Moses was leading them into even more peril.  What did God expect?  Moses had killed an Egyptian and then spent forty years on the back side of the desert.  God could have picked someone else.
     Moses knew that rescuing the people of God was an undertaking fraught with difficulty.

Then the Lord said to Moses, “Tell the Israelites to turn back and encamp near Pi Hahiroth, between Migdol and the sea. They are to encamp by the sea, directly opposite Baal Zephon. Pharaoh will think, ‘The Israelites are wandering around the land in confusion, hemmed in by the desert.’  And I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and he will pursue them. But I will gain glory for myself through Pharaoh and all his army, and the Egyptians will know that I am the Lord.” So the Israelites did this.  ~Exodus 14:1-4

     God deliberately placed the Israelites between the sea and the Egyptian army.  Through Moses, God gave them specific, step-by-step instructions.  Instructions that were leading them down a path to apparent ruin. Turn  around and camp. Camp there. On that particular spot of sand. Right there, before the entrapping sea. Yes, right there in that impossible place.

     The Lord occasionally does the same with us, leading us into hardship, bringing us to a particular point or allowing us to be in a circumstance not of our choosing. Our initial reaction may be panic and alarm.  (When I was diagnosed with cancer 5 years ago, I lay on the couch for three days.)  God gently reveals the depth of our faith to us.  He teaches us wisdom and shows us His ways.  And then we learn to lean into Him.  To rest securely on the only One who could ever save us anyway.  The One who holds us gently in His arms.
     Moses and the Israelites learned that the same God who led them in, would lead them out.  The problem was not left to Moses.  It was God’s dilemma to solve which He chose to do through Moses inadequate hands.  Moses stretched out his arm over the sea.  The waters parted and the Israelites were brought through to safety.
     Sometimes, like Moses, we think that our story is one of shame, failure, and inadequacy.  But you know, it doesn’t have to be.  Our story can be a story of grace.
     It is a brave grace that saves.  A grace that fixes broken lives.  A grace that heals broken hearts and restores sinners.  It is a brave grace that looks beyond what we have done and sees what we can be.  God does not count our sin against us.
     God exhibits grace and mercy so that we might experience forgiveness and healing.  So that, like Moses, we can see that we are capable of being used to further His glory.   Thank God for His brave grace.
     This post is part of a series on Exodus.  I have been joining the Good Morning Girls at Women Living Well.  My other Exodus posts may be found here.
Exodus 1-5  The Burning Bush
Exodus 6-10  Great Lengths
     This weeks assignment Exodus, chapters 16-20.

Talk of the Town

     I don’t watch a lot of TV, but when I do it’s more often the Hallmark channel’s sappy romances than the blood and gore of horror movies.
     When I read my Bible, I take a similar path.  I like the “Jesus loves you,” scriptures.  The ones that tell me I am healed, forgiven, and whole in Jesus.  I avoid the messy ones where people are cruel or crazy or killed.  So, I know that this is not a scripture that I’ve shared about before and yet this was where I felt led and ironically, I found a “Jesus loves you scripture” that tells about a madman in a graveyard.

  Jesus and the disciples arrived on the other side of the sea in the country of the Gerasenes. As Jesus got out of the boat, a madman from the cemetery came up to him. He lived there among the tombs and graves. No one could restrain him—he couldn’t be chained, couldn’t be tied down. He had been tied up many times with chains and ropes, but he broke the chains, snapped the ropes. No one was strong enough to tame him. Night and day he roamed through the graves and the hills, screaming out and slashing himself with sharp stones.
 When he saw Jesus a long way off, he ran and bowed in worship before him—then bellowed in protest, “What business do you have, Jesus, Son of the High God, messing with me? I swear to God, don’t give me a hard time!” (Jesus had just commanded the tormenting evil spirit, “Out! Get out of the man!”)
  Jesus asked him, “Tell me your name.”
  He replied, “My name is Mob. I’m a rioting mob.”  Then he desperately begged Jesus not to banish them from the country.
  A large herd of pigs was browsing and rooting on a nearby hill. The demons begged him, “Send us to the pigs so we can live in them.” Jesus gave the order. But it was even worse for the pigs than for the man. Crazed, they stampeded over a cliff into the sea and drowned.
  Those tending the pigs, scared to death, bolted and told their story in town and country. Everyone wanted to see what had happened. They came up to Jesus and saw the madman sitting there wearing decent clothes and making sense, no longer a walking madhouse of a man.
  Those who had seen it told the others what had happened to the demon-possessed man and the pigs. At first they were in awe—and then they were upset, upset over the drowned pigs. They demanded that Jesus leave and not come back.
  As Jesus was getting into the boat, the demon-delivered man begged to go along, but Jesus wouldn’t let him. Jesus said, “Go home to your own people. Tell them your story—what the Master did, how he had mercy on you.” The man went back and began to preach in the Ten Towns area about what Jesus had done for him. He was the talk of the town.  ~Mark 5:1-20, The Message

     The first few verses of Mark 5 describe a man as sad and down trodden as a person could get.  He lived in a graveyard.  He was naked.  He cut himself with sharp objects.  Then Jesus’ boat bumped against the shore of his life and he, and his demons, recognized the Son of God immediately.  He begged Jesus,”Do not torment me!”  This madman’s life was a total disaster and he was afraid that Jesus was about to make it even worse.
     When some of us first glimpse Jesus, we have a similar fear.  We are afraid of what it will cost to follow Him.  Jesus might ask us to give up something of great value.  It could cost the approval of friends, or things that we do for fun or pleasure.  We might be asked to give some money.  We might even be asked to do hard things.
     Jesus responds to the man’s pleas by simply asking, “What is your name.?”  Anyone else would have defended themselves or left, refusing to make eye contact, to not see the need of this scarred, naked man.  But instead, Jesus sent him a message.  “You matter to Me.”
     Jesus knew exactly how to solve the mystery of this man’s broken life.  He sent the demons into a large herd of pigs, who ran squealing into the water and drowned.  Then the pig farmers were concerned about the cost of meeting Jesus.  Jesus had done something great and wonderful, but they were worried about the pigs.  Were they afraid that Jesus would change them, too?
     The delivered man clearly had been changed by the grace of God.  He recognized that Jesus had touched him at his most unloveable.  He was no longer a naked wild man.  He pulled on clothes.  He was able to hold a conversation.  His chains were truly broken and had no power to hold him.  He no longer needed to cut himself to feel.  He was no longer living with the dead in trespasses and sin.  He knew that Jesus did not love him because he was charming, attractive, eloquent, or talented; his former self was none of those things.  He recognized the depth of his healing.  Jesus had delivered him completely.

 Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint;
  heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony.
My soul is in deep anguish.
Turn, Lord, and deliver me;
  save me because of your unfailing love.
Among the dead no one proclaims your name.

Who praises you from the grave?
     the Lord has heard my weeping.
The Lord has heard my cry for mercy;
  
the Lord accepts my prayer. ~Verse’s from Psalm 6 

     When Jesus was about to leave, the man begged Jesus to let him accompany Him.  He went from begging Jesus to leave, to begging Jesus to take him with Him.  A complete reversal of his former demands.  Instead, Jesus sent him home to his family and friends to share the story of what had happened to him when he met Jesus.  Restored and whole.  Heard and accepted.  The talk of the town. 

Cinderella

     Twenty one years ago, my friend Janie  asked me to pray for her neighbor, Lori, who had just given birth to her fourth son.  As the mother of three boys the same ages as Lori’s first three, I understood completely why she needed prayer.  Shortly afterwards, at a church potluck, Pat and I met Lori and Denis and the four of us became close friends.
     God has a sense of humor.  The Lori and I who did not know each other, had married the man of our dreams on the same day, honeymooned in Disney World in the same hotel, had mother-in-laws named Florence, and gave birth to sons, and only sons, in fairly rapid succession.  The only way for either of us to have a daughter, was for me to adopt our Patty.  Our boys played soccer together.  Lori’s were the talented ones, mine, unfortunately, had their mother’s athletic prowess.
     Over camping trips, shoe shopping, family dinners, celebrations, weddings, and hospital visits, our lives and hearts have been knit together with love.

Keke Palmer was Cinderella and Sherri Shepherd the Wicked Stepmother.

     Lori and I were even born just three days apart.  Each year we celebrate our birthdays together.  It has been harder since we lost Denis three years ago right before Lori’s birthday.
     Last week, Lori and I went to see the Broadway musical Cinderella.  The music was by Rogers and Hammerstein, which means the songs were the ones that we remembered from childhood.  Cinderella was a movie that came on once a year starring Leslie Ann Warren.  I remember, my wonderful teacher assigned it as homework.  It was the best homework ever!  Oh, how I loved that movie.
     Lori and I were transported to France in the days of Princes, Fairy Godmothers, Ball Gowns, sparkly shoes, white horses, and Royal Banquets.  It was magical when Cinderella’s rags changed into a sparkly white poofy tulle gown complete with tiara and updo before our very eyes.  Lori and I were amazed. We could not figure out how it was done.
     I was once a freckle-faced, tinsel toothed Cinderella rescued by a young prince named Jack.  You can read the fairytale Embracing Your Cinderella, The Ball, and Midnight.
     The story of Cinderella is something everyone can relate to.  Feeling alone and unworthy, working hard for people who just don’t appreciate you, the monotony of doing the same things day after day, being treated like a servant instead of the child of a King.
     But God gives us beauty for ashes.
    In Bible times it was a custom for people to, like Cinderella, sit in ashes during times of great mourning or difficulty.  But the scripture says that God will take our difficult, depressing situation and give us beauty.  He will pick us up out of the ash pile in life and make something beautiful out of us.  He will wrap us in the white robe of salvation.

I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True.  With justice he judges and makes war.  His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns.  He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God.  The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean…. On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written:  King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  ~Revelation 19:11-16

       I pray for all of you a true fairy tale ending.  May you marry the Son of the King.  I will see you at the Banquet.

Mother's Day Muffin Mishap

     She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she can laugh at the days to come.  ~Proverbs 31:25

     Pat and I have been blessed to have two sets of kids.  We have three older sons who are grown, and three younger kids, who are growing up quickly.  Pat and I started young and then, when it came to kids, just kept going.  This means that we are oldish for parents, just ask our younger kids who think that we are ancient.  We are not usually the oldest parents at back to school night, but we are up there.  We take ibprofen for muscle aches.  We buy industrial size bottles of Tums.  We are not the “cool” parents.  Music is too loud, and we are often befuddled by the electronics that our children understand.

     From the first queasy bout of morning sickness, through the struggle to birth or adopt our children, to the late nights, driving lessons, and endless efforts with science projects and homework, being a parent is the most wonderfully difficult thing that God will call us to do.   But then we shouldn’t lose heart, it was never meant to be easy.

      We are called to raise Godly warriors.  Pat and I have five sons.  We are familiar with dirt, noise, and wiggly things in pockets.  We have had oatmeal in the vcr, matchbox cars in the toilet, and rocks in the dryer.  We’ve been chased by snakes, lizards, and bicycles.  We’ve learned about Diagon Alley, baseball, and building fortresses with lego blocks.  We know how to read a compass, scramble over rocks, and go geocaching.  We’ve played bingo and searched for buried treasure.  We’ve put out fires, baited hooks, and shot off fire works.  We’ve played slot car racing, bumper cars, and given driving instruction.  We have spent a fair amount of time at doctor’s offices and emergency rooms while our boys have been stitched up from their latest adventure.  We have sent super hero’s to time out.  We love our boys.

     We have been blessed with a beautiful daughter.  Patty introduced us to the world of sweet cupcakes, glitter, and sparkles.  Pat and I have had tea with teddy bears and had our hair braided lopsidedly.  We have learned the power of a pair of shoes and a truly bad hair day.  We’ve shopped for prom dresses and hiking boots.  We’ve survived the drama of hair flips and “I don’t want to talk about it’s.”  We’ve danced in the kitchen, around a campfire, and at lakeside parties.  We’ve watched school concerts, plays, and gone on field trips.  We’ve picked flowers and painted glitter on our nails.  We’ve waited for our girl to return home safely from dates, Pat having forcefully shaken her beau’s hand before they left for the evening.  We love our daughter.

     Parenting is an endeavor of love, faith, and sheer determination.   But we are imperfect people.   I find myself awake at  2 am wondering how I could have forgotten this or that very important thing.  How I could have done such and such better, and counting the many ways in which I have fallen short.  Parenting is too important a task to mess up.  There are days, weeks, and even seasons when we feel inadequate for the task.
     I had one such day recently and the family thought it was humiliating enough to share.
     A few weeks ago, on a Sunday morning, our cat, Luna, woke me up a few minutes after five.  Pat still rested beside me and I could hear that no one else in the house was up.  This was good.  So I crept downstairs instead of rolling over.  I slowly sipped my coffee, enjoyed the birds singing outside the window, and relaxed before the crazy Sunday morning routine began.
      I fed the cat and savored the moments of peace.  I tweaked what I was going to say at church, read a few favorite blogs, and checked facebook.  I drank my coffee.  The cat, full of kibbles, joined me on the chair purring loudly.   Around seven, I heard the thump of feet hitting the floor.  Kids were coming down.

     Hungry, I decided to make maple pecan muffins for the family.  I had the butter and syrup creamed and the dry ingredients mixed before I discovered that I did not have the required sour cream.  I decided to exchange cream cheese for the missing sour cream, because I’m flexible like that.  The butter and syrup looked a little melty from all the whipping, but I shrugged and went with it.  The recipe usually yields 18 generously sized muffins, but for some odd reason, I seemed to have lots of extra batter.  I doled it out between the muffin cups and set the pan to bake for eighteen minutes.
     I went upstairs to get dressed and showered feeling noble and a little like the Proverbs 31 woman who gets up while it is still dark and provides food for her family.
     Pat and I were chatting when the first tendrils of smoke made their way up the stairs and through the closed bedroom door.  We raced down stairs.  Smoke hung a foot deep from the ceiling.  The smoke alarm that usually calls my children to dinner, was oddly silent.
     Burnt maple syrup smoke puffed in my face when I opened the oven door.  When my eyes stopped watering, I peered at my muffins.  The batter had overflowed and spilled out across the muffin pan then dripped down onto the bottom of the oven.  A half inch of black gunk with charred pecans rested in the muffin cups.

     Pat, the love of my life and greatest support in times of difficulty, took one look at the pitiful mess, and yelled, “Get the camera!”  Yes, because this needed to be documented.
     Anthony helpfully opened the sliding door to fan the smoke out.  Patty cried, “What did you do?”  Connor took one look in the oven and cheerfully informed me that I had a muffin mishap, and perhaps he should have cereal.
     Now that my culinary expertise had been properly documented for future generations, I started to scrape the blackened crisp off the bottom of the oven.  Pat stopped me by closing the oven door and switching it from bake to clean.  He wanted to leave the muffin pan in the oven, but I vetoed that.  It would be better soaked, and if that didn’t work, disposed of.  We hastily re-planned our morning.  Pat and the boys would remain at home in case the house went on fire from my muffin mishap and Patty and I would go to church. As a precaution, I lovingly took the fire extinguisher out of the cabinet and placed it next to the oven.  Pat informed me that if I was really concerned about him, I would have put the fire extinguisher on the table so he wouldn’t have to get burned getting to it if the oven did actually go on fire.  He had a point.
     Still hungry and being too considerate to add to the mess, Patty and I went to the diner for breakfast.  Over eggs and pancakes we made plans for some girl shopping in the afternoon.  At church, my friend Kim suggested we go to Job Lot in Hyde Park.  I had never been there.
     What a place it is!  There is a hodgepodge of, well, everything.  Clothing, food, flashlights, paper goods, and area rugs.  It was in the area rugs that I once again got into a little bit of trouble.  I have been searching for a rug for the living room.
     The area rugs were stacked on top of one another in piles.  If you have ever had the experience of shopping for rugs, you know that the one you want to look at is never the top rug.  In the 5 x 7 pile, I discovered a rug that had the perfect colors for our bedroom.  I could just imagine it tucked cozily in front of our chair.  The only problem was that the rug I wanted was about five rugs down.  A young man who was a store employee wandered by a few times but steadfastly refused to make eye contact.  Patty and I were on our own.  I came up with a plan.  If we flipped the rugs back halfway and then sort of rolled the desired rug up toward the middle, and then flipped the rugs back and did the same thing from the opposite direction, we could pull the rug out without disturbing the rest of the pile.  So Patty and I strong armed our way through and the little rug ended up neatly in my carriage.
     Still determined to find something for the living room, I moved on to the pile of 8 x 11 rugs which were up on a much higher platform so that they wouldn’t touch the floor.  I leafed through and quickly discovered a rug way down in the pile that had possibilities.  The same employee had continued to pass by and not make eye contact.  Well, my rug technique had worked before, so I decided to try again.  Patty and I took our positions on opposite ends on the short side of the rugs.  Flipping 8 x 11 rugs over was much more difficult than the smaller rugs.  They were heavy, higher up and sagged in the middle as we folded them.  Still I was determined and Patty was giving it her best shot.  We had managed to get the top rugs flipped and the right rug rolled.  I had positioned myself to pull the rug out from under the others when I was startled by a deep voice rumbling behind me.  There was a shorter than me, older man who offered to get someone to help me.
     “No thanks, I think that I have it.”   Silly me.  The calvary had finally arrived and I turned them down.   I gave an enthusiastic tug and the entire pile of rugs spilled on to the floor.  I was mortified.  The man paged for assistance and a few guys turned up, including the young man who had pretended that I was invisible before.
     Then because God has a sense of humor and to make my embarrassment complete, my friend, Kim came around the corner.  What a scene.  There I was with the pile of rugs dumped on the floor, the guys rushing around, and the man in charge telling me that they did not want my help to put the rug display back together, thank you very much.  Patty wanted to melt.  So much for being clothed in strength and dignity like in Proverbs 31.  At least this time, no one had a camera!  Kim promptly called her mother, Donna, to share the excitement.
     Patty and I went home.  The house was standing.  The fire extinguisher unused.  The oven was clean, but the house still smelled like burnt crispies.  When we rolled the rug out in the living room, we saw that it was missing a few important rows of yarn in the middle.  I would have noticed this in the store if I had ever seen the rug completely instead of rolled up.  Pat went back with me the next day to return it.  Fortunately, no one was there who had witnessed the great rug debacle of the previous day.
     And there it is, in the middle of the muddle, grace generously spilled out like rugs on the floor.   Being a parent is about the laughter of making mistakes and doing our best.  It’s about dying to self and fanning the smoke of our blunders out the window.  It’s about documenting the laughter and dancing in the kitchen.
     When our children see us in the midst of our mess, they’ll know that the God we serve, is not about to squash us for not being perfect people.  They’ll know that He sees us as we are and loves us anyway.  Which is how He calls us to love them.
     I want my children to please be quiet.  Christ wants them to sing loud praises.  I want them to stop rocking the boat.  Christ wants them to get out of the boat and walk to Him over the roar of the waves.  I want them to be over achievers who always do their homework and make the best decisions.  Christ calls them to decide for Him and be His disciples.  I don’t want their heart to be broken. Christ wants to give them a heart of flesh, broken for His people.  I want them to fit in.  He wants to set them apart.  I love my children.  He loves them more.
     And when we fail as a parent, and we will fail, our sons and daughters will see us pick ourselves up and continue the path we have been set on.  Our lives are transparent to our children.  They have seen us with mud on our face, curlers in our hair, not ready for company, certainly not warrior like.  They see us in our un-sparkly selves. They have witnessed our reaction to people who cut us off in traffic and what we do when we knock over the store display.   They have eaten at our table.  They know that real life sometimes requires fire extinguishers and smoke alarms.  They have listened to us talk to our friends, our parents, and our God.  For better or worse, our children have learned about marriage and parenting from us.  They see our laughter and our tears.  They know our sins.
     So we teach them about Jesus, the Lamb of God, who takes away our sins, especially the sins of children and parents.  When I was young and acting foolish, I remember my parents telling me that they hoped that I had  a child just like me.  I am so grateful that our God is full of grace and mercy, because parenting matters.  God understands. As parents, we are raising greatness.  Godly warriors for the next generation.
     May you have a blessed Mother’s Day.

Shame Free

     A few weeks ago, I was sitting in a faculty meeting and admittedly, not paying attention.  Now lots of people don’t pay attention in meetings, but this meeting was about getting our students to pay attention.  A colleague was sharing an example of a technique called a “Whip Around” to get students engaged in her lesson.
    Then she said, “Quick, name a country in Europe.  Joan?”
     “Spain,” Joan stated.
     “Donna.”  I quickly replayed what I had almost heard.  “London.”  I responded with false confidence.  Polite laughter filled the room.  Still oblivious, I reviewed my response and decided that I had correctly answered the question.
     The teacher did not correct me, there may or may not have been eye rolling.  She moved on to her next victim, “Ellen?”
     Ellen had been paying attention, but was confused by my brilliance.  After a moment, she called out “Sweden.”  That was when I realized that I had named a city in Europe and not a country.
     Yup.  During a lesson on paying attention,  my mind was out to lunch.  My cheeks burned flaming red.  I wanted to hide under the table.
     Can you recall a time when you opened your mouth and inserted your foot?  It’s not fun to feel inadequate, embarrassed, and ashamed.
     The world tells us to be perfect.  The perfect teacher, the perfect student, the perfect spouse, the perfect child, the perfect parent, the perfect employee, the perfect employer, the perfect Christian. Evidence is gathered in a neat little binder.  There is no room for error.  We must measure up and if we don’t, there are consequences.  Often, we feel guilty or ashamed.
     There is a difference between guilt and shame.  Guilt is the result of our doing something that we should not have done.  Shame results when we are not the person we think that we should be. Guilt says, “What I did was not good.”  Shame says, “I am no good.”  Guilt says, “I did something wrong.”  Shame says, “There is something wrong with me.” Guilt says, “I’ve made a mistake.”  Shame says, “I am a mistake.”
     God does not create mistakes.  We are people in need of forgiveness and grace.
     Guilt moves us to ask for forgiveness.  Shame immobilizes us and weighs us down.  Shame convinces us that our sin is worse than the sin of others.  We have trouble believing that God can use us.  How can I serve?  I can’t do that.  I can’t do anything significant.  I’m not enough.
     People burdened by shame are who Jesus had in mind when he invited the “weary and heavy laden” to take His yoke and find rest.
     Jesus sought me with love and mercy.  He sees who I am and what I have done, and He loves me anyway.  Jesus takes away my shame.

     I sought the Lord, and He answered me; He delivered me from all my fears.  Those who look to Him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.  ~Psalm 34:4-5

     God made a way for our wounded hearts to be restored.  He freely gives us peace, love, forgiveness, hope, and grace.  He heals our shame.

     The word is near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart,” that is, the message concerning faith that we proclaim: If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.  For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved.  As Scripture says, “Anyone who believes in him will never be put to shame.”   ~Romans 10:8-11

     Jesus meets us where we are, just as we are.  He knows what lurks in the corners of our hearts and mind.  He loves us individually and personally.  Leave your shame with Jesus, the Author and Finisher of your faith.

Leaving LoDebar

A figure from the fountain at the Bronx Zoo

     Mephibosheth was a grandson of the first King of Israel - King Saul.  King Saul had died and David, of David and Goliath fame, had become the new king.  It was very common for ancient rulers to kill the relatives of a previous king in order to further establish their own claim to the throne and eliminate any competitors.  Mephibosheth was five years old when the news came that both his father and grandfather had died.  His nurse picked him up and fled to save his life.  Unfortunately, in the chaotic turmoil, Mephibosheth was dropped and his legs were permanently damaged.
     Fifteen years passed.  Mephibosheth grew to be a man, still dreading the knock on the door, hidden away in a town called  “the place of no pasture,” LoDebar.   LoDebar was barren and desolate, a place without nourishing green grass.  Mephibosheth went from prince to servant, from the lushness of the palace to a land of desolation, from wholeness to cripple, from security to fear.  Mephibosheth expected to die on the sword of the king, instead he received a blessing

     David asked, “Is there anyone still left of the house of Saul to whom I can show kindness for Jonathan’s sake?’  Now there was a servant of Saul’s household named Ziba.  They called him to appear before David.  The king asked, “Is there no one still left of the house of Saul to whom I can show God’s kindness?”  Ziba answered the king, “There is still a son of Jonathan; he is crippled in both feet.”  He is in Lo Debar.”  So King David had him brought from LoDebar.  When Mephibosheth son of Jonathan came to David, he bowed down to pay him honor.  David said, “Mephibosheth!”
     “Your Servant.”
      “Don’t be afraid for I will surely show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan.  I will restore to you all the land that belonged to your grandfather Saul, and you will always eat at my table.”
     Mephibosheth bowed down and said, “What is your servant, that you should notice a dead dog like me?”
     Then the king summoned Ziba, Saul’s servant, and said to him, “I have given your master’s grandson everything that belonged to Saul and his family.  You and your sons and your servants are to farm the land for him and bring in the crops, so that your master’s grandson may be provided for.
     So Mephibosheth ate at David’s table like one of the king’s sons.  Mephibosheth had a young son named Mica, and Mephibosheth lived in Jerusalem, because he always ate at the king’s table and he was crippled in both feet.  ~2 Samuel 9:1-13  Edited for length, but not meaning.  Please read this in your Bible for the complete text.

     When Mephibosheth met David, he fell flat on his face in submission and recognition of his tenuous situation.  He confessed that he had the worth of a dead dog, back when a dog was just a dog. Crippled Mephibosheth was restored by the anointed king.  He was invited to dine at the king’s table, to share the king’s bread, and to sit in the place of the king’s sons.  Instead of living in the place of no pasture, Mephibosheth lived in Jersualem, the king’s city, the city of peace.  He was no longer a helpless and poor cripple hiding in fear.  He was a wealthy and powerful man who enjoyed daily access to the king.
     Mephibosheth is a picture of you and of me.  An unhappy sinner hiding and running from God; exiled in LoDebar.  We have been made lame, dropped while running for our lives.  We do not walk the way that we should.  We know that someday we, too, will have to face the King.
     But the merciful Father rescued us through His Son.  Thanks to Jesus; His life, His death and His resurrection, we are suddenly taken out of LoDebar and invited to the city of peace.  We are brought to the banquet table in the household of the King. We are no longer orphaned and lonely.  We are made rich in Jesus and through Him have direct access to the King of Kings.
     Jesus says:

Here I am! I stand at the door and knock.  If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.  ~Revelations 3:20

     Mephibosheth continued to be lame in both feet, but now those feet were under the king’s table.  I invite you today, to leave LoDebar and place your crippled feet under the King’s table.

A Perfect Day

     Our son, Brian, came to visit us this week.   He lives and works in Utica.  Brian stopped in briefly the Friday before last, joined us for dinner, then went to New York City to visit some friends for a few days.  He came back to us on Wednesday.  We went to lunch, visited Harney’s Tea Shop, lingered over dinners, and celebrated his birthday a month early, before he left last night.  My mother’s heart misses him already.
     Brian was to take the train out of Grand Central on Wednesday morning.  He boarded the northbound train, which left around 9:40.  The train stopped two minutes later and then reversed back into the station.  There had been a terrible gas explosion near the tracks about ten minutes earlier.  All traffic to Grand Central was shut down.  No trains were able to go in or out.  Brian called Pat to let him know that he was delayed.  Eventually, Brian found a round-a-bout route to catch a train beyond the blast site.
     Meanwhile, on Wednesday morning, I was at school.  I could tell that it was going to be a good day.  It wasn’t snowing.  We had all made it out the door on time.  I had remembered all the things that I needed for school, including my lunch, my tea, and my glasses. Best of all, I was looking forward to seeing Brian when I got home.  But first, I had a busy day ahead of me with annual meetings with parents.  These meetings are important, because we are planning for the children’s program for next school year.  Our day was well underway, when a parent came in shaking her head.  She said, “Isn’t it just terrible?  There was a big explosion at Grand Central Station.  So sad.”
     I flew out of my chair.  “My son!  My son is at Grand Central!”  I frantically left the meeting.  Memories of a beautiful morning one September and more recently, black backpacks in Boston filled my mind.  My prayers for Brian weren’t even words, but more like a breath and a hope.  I did what i always do when I am in trouble; I called Pat.  Pat quickly reassured me that he had just spoken to Brian and that he was fine.  Brian’s biggest problem would be finding a way to get home.  I suggested we drive down and pick him up.  Pat calmed me down and we hung up the phone.  I allowed myself a few grateful tears of relief, whispered a prayer for those who were involved in the explosion,waited for my heart to slow, and then went back to my meeting.  When I arrived home at the end of the day, Brian was there to greet me.  My son had come home.
     Some days we wake up to the perfect day and God’s loving presence can be seen and felt in every little moment.  We sing praises of anticipation as we move through our day.  But sometimes, a perfect day explodes with the unanticipated and we are thrown from the path we are traveling.   Sometimes God backs us up and sends us off in a different direction.  Sometimes we are misinformed, but God shows us that He is truth.  I am so thankful for the reminder that God loves my children even more than I do.    Whether my day is going my way or is far from perfect, Jesus is my constant companion.  He is at work in all my situations.  In fact, He goes through them with me. And had the unthinkable happened, God is still God and He loves me. His precious Holy Spirit whispers words of comfort and encouragement at those moments when I need them most. He helps me to sing songs of praise as joy flows freely from my lips, and to speak words of thanksgiving when I am frightened.  Our God is a God of refuge.  He is a place of rest.  He is a place of trust.  He is my hope all the day long.

Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.   ~Psalm 73:25-26

What Bothers You?

     Loud noises bother me.  Anyone looking to send me over the edge just has to shout, squeal or use a jackhammer in my presence.  I am bothered by city traffic and inconsiderate people who use the last tiny little square of toilet paper and don’t replace the roll.  I am bothered by loud telephone conversations in public places about private things.  And I am very bothered by a four minute YouTube video I watched a few weeks ago at Chatting at the Sky, by Emily Freeman.  I'll post it at the bottom.
     The video was John Ortberg interviewing Dallas Willard.  They were talking about living in Christ's presence.
     John asks Dallas how we can help someone to know how their spiritual life or their soul is doing?
     Dallas responds, “Well, very slowly we listen to them. . . I think the next thing is a question and not a statement: What’s bothering you? Start there.”
     “What’s bothering you?”  That question caused my heart to thump.  The two men talk a little more, and then John makes a joke.
     John: “What’s bothering you? ... could be an interesting liturgical question – to start the church service asking, What’s bothering you? and the people could respond back, And also you.”
     I laughed out loud and so did the audience.  Yet as the clip ends Dallas says, “That would be absolutely revolutionary.”
     Wouldn’t it be revolutionary if the things that bothered me were not the self absorbed things that inconvenience me?
    What are those things that bother my heart?  Does my heart long for the things of Christ?
    Wouldn’t it be revolutionary if I consciously made the priorities of my day what God would have me to do?   Now I do believe that God has placed me in my home and in my job and washing the dishes, cleaning a toilet, writing a lesson plan, and tying a child’s shoelace is exactly what God would have me do on most days, but He also calls me to be bothered by the needs of strangers.
     Jesus spent His life being bothered for others.  Being bothered about something causes a response. Jesus healed them. He taught them. He recruited them as His disciples.  He spoke gently with the woman at the well.  He called Zacchaeus from a tree.  He healed the woman with an issue of blood, and the ten lepers.  He raised Jairus' daughter and Lazaraus from the dead.  He had mercy on the woman caught in adultery and on a thief on a cross.  He laughed and cried.  Jesus was bothered enough about you and me that He allowed Himself to be put to death on a cross.
     Jeremiah wrote, "I am broken by the brokenness of my dear people. I mourn," (Jer. 8:21).
     Wouldn’t it be revolutionary if my heart were so filled with God that the things that break the heart of God were the very things that bothered me?
     Wouldn’t it be revolutionary if I touched the splinter in my heart and listened to the pain in the heart of my friend?.
     God’s heart overflows with an intense and passionate love for us.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.   ~Jesus,  Luke 13:34

     I know from experience that God touches us in our broken places.  He uses people with bothered hearts.

   Search me, God, and know my heart; 
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
   See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.  ~David, Psalm 139:23-24

    What bothers you?  Start there.

The Gate Called Beautiful

One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon.  Now a man who was lame from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts.  When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money.  Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, “Look at us!”  So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something from them.
    Then Peter said, “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.”  Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong.  He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God.  When all the people saw him walking and praising God,  they recognized him as the same man who used to sit begging at the temple gate called Beautiful, and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.  ~Acts 3:1-10

     I have read this amazing passage of scripture many times, but what stood out to me this time was that the name of the gate where this lame and broken man was placed was “Beautiful.”

     Beautiful.

     Sometimes I forget that God finds beauty in our lameness and brokeness.  When we are just not good enough, when we are sick, or in despair, when we find ourselves in the same wretched place we have been before.  Then we turn to God with a beggar’s expectation, knowing that we don’t have enough on our own to make it through another day.  And the God of miracles and grace causes us to rise up and walk with Him past the place where we have laid so long.  With His great compassion and love, He finds us beautiful.
     Remember the woman with the albaster box of precious spikenard with which she annointed Jesus.  Consider, Jesus was not anointed until the box was broken.
      We should not feel ashamed to be broken.  God loves the broken heart and the contrite spirit.  Brokeness is just a beautiful gate, a sweet perfume, where Jesus meets us, heals us, and walks us through.

Praise the Lord.
How good it is to sing praises to our God,
    how pleasant and fitting to praise him!
The Lord builds up Jerusalem;
    he gathers the exiles of Israel.
He heals the brokenhearted
    and binds up their wounds.
He determines the number of the stars
    and calls them each by name.
Great is our Lord and mighty in power;
    his understanding has no limit.                    ~Psalm 147:1-5

Day 18: Wedding Supper

     Pat and I attended the summer wedding of a friend's daughter a few years ago.  It was lovely.  The bride was radiant and the groom, handsome and sweet.
     Pat and I arrived at the reception a little late.  It was completely my fault.  I had thought that the wedding and reception, which were being held at the same place, would be in a chilly, over air-conditioned room.  I had worn a dress with long sleeves.  The wedding was held outside in a huge tent. The temperature hovered at 95 degrees.  Pat had simply shrugged off his jacket and tie.  Between the wedding and the reception, I, already melting, had insisted we run to a nearby mall so that I could buy a more comfortable dress.  That was the fastest dress decision I have ever made!
     There we were, late and I was looking decidedly rumpled.  We found our place cards and seated ourselves at Table #9.  There were about 100 guests.  We did not know anyone, with the exception of the parents of the bride and their five lovely adult children.
     After the grand introduction and entrances were made and the happy couple had danced their first dance, our friends found us.  They laughed at my dress dilemma, then invited us to sit with them at Table #1 with their family.
   So we enjoyed the wedding in a place of honor with the family.  We laughed with the bride's brothers and listened to Grandma tell family stories.  It was a wonderful day.
     I was reminded of God's grace and how in Luke where Jesus tells the parable of sitting yourself at the lowest place at a banquet so that the host will invite you to sit at a better place, a place of honor.

When Jesus noticed how the guests picked the places of honor at the table, he told them this parable:  “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place.  But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests.  For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”  ~Luke 14:7-11

     Pat and I had done nothing to deserve the "better" seat, all we did was accept it.  A gift freely given.
     Soon we will be going to the wedding feast of the Lamb of God.  There the highest place will be lying low at our Redeemer's feet.  Jesus will sweetly lift us up and seat us.
     This post is Day 18 in the 31 Day Series: Welcome to My Mess.  You can read the other posts here.

Day 16: Son of Encouragement

     In the New Testament, we meet a companion of Paul who had the gift of encouragement.  His parents had named him Joseph, which means "one who increases."  The early church leaders, however, changed his name to Barnabas, which means "son of encouragement."  Barnabas was a person who others felt good being around.  He was a man who believed in the potential of a person, particularly those who mothers whom others (that's an appropriate typo) might be cautious or suspicious of.
     It was Barnabas who encouraged the disciples to give Paul a chance to demonstrate the depth of his conversion from a stoner of the believers to a missionary for Jesus.  When Paul did not want to take John Mark with him, because John Mark had left them during a missionary trip, Barnabas stepped in and insisted on allowing John Mark to come with them.
     Here is what it says about Barnabas in the book of Acts.

     When Barnabas arrived and saw the evidence of the grace of God, he was glad and encoraged them all to remain true to the Lord with all their hearts.  He was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and faith, and a great number of people were brought to the Lord.   ~Acts 11:23-24

     That was Barnabas reputation.  This was how people talked about him behind his back.  Barnabas spent his life building and edifying others.  He showed them how much he cared for them through his words and his actions.  He knew that the best thing to do behind a person's back was to pat it, not to criticize.
     Discouraged people do not need critics.  They hurt enough already.  The Bible says, "Do not put out the Spirit's fire," 1 Thes. 5:19.
     People who are discouraged need a refuge not someone to remind them of the obstacles.  An encourager fills that need and provides a place to hide and heal.  Encouragement has the capacity to lift spirits, place a smile on a discouraged face, or change the direction that someone is headed - not just for the moment, not just for the day, but for as long as life itself.
     Think about the people God has placed into your life.  Who are the people that you can encourage?

     And it will be said"  Build up, build up, prepare the road!  Remove the obstacles out of the way of my people.  For this is what the high and lofty One says--he who lives forever, whose name is holy:  "I live in a high and holy place, but also with him who is contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite.   ~Isaiah 57:14-15

     Use your words today to build others up.
     This post is Day 16 in the 31 Day Series: Welcome to My Mess.  You can read the other posts here.

Day 3: Embracing the Cinderella in Me

     If you had to compare your life to a fairytale, which fairytale would you choose and which character would you play?  If you have difficulty sleeping at night and have been tossing and turning on your lumpy mattress, you may relate to the Princess and the Pea.  If you've made some investments that others have laughed at, you may feel a little like Jack and the Beanstalk.  Or maybe, you feel like Cinderella, cooking, cleaning, and unappreciated by anyone else.
     Over the next few days, I would like to share with you a true, slightly modern fairytale.  It involves a contest, some wicked sisters, ball gowns, weeping, and an unexpected hero who rescues not one but two unlikely fair maidens from distress.
     Once upon a time, when I was much younger,  perhaps about twelve years old, I was invited to participate in a beauty pageant.  The invitation did not go out to all the fair maidens in the land.  No, it was an exclusive contest.  There were after all only four of us.
     The Beauty Pageant was the idea of two beautiful sisters, Cathy and Suzie.  Twelve year old Cathy was lovely with light brown hair and flashing brown eyes.  Suzie, a few years younger, had soft blue eyes and long dark brown hair.  Both were pretty girls who thought very highly of themselves.
     One summer morning, the two sisters were arguing about which of them was the prettiest.  Each claimed that she was better looking than her sister.  Not having a magic mirror to consult, they decided to solve the argument once and for all by having a competition.  They determined to compete against one another in a Miss America style contest, complete with talent, bathing suit, ball gown, and question categories.  Points would be awarded  in each area.  They did not have a tiara for the winner, but they did have a silk flower hair comb.  The winner would have bragging rights and be secure in the knowledge that she was indeed the fairest in all the land.  Pretty Creative.
     In order to make it less obvious that the competition was actually between the two of them, the sisters decided to each ask another girl to compete.  Of course, the diabolical sisters had to ask girls that they knew was not as pretty as either of them.  There wasn't any point in asking someone who would be real competition.  Suzie asked a friend of hers named Anne.  Unsuspecting, Anne was very excited and quickly offered her back patio for the competition.  This was a real bonus, because the sisters did not want their mother to know what they were up to.  Anne's backyard had a wooden walkway that led to a beautiful flagstone patio.  There would be shade for the judges and a stage for the contestants.
     Cathy asked me to be in the beauty pageant.  I was rather surprised and flattered when Cathy invited me.  We did not usually hang out together as she ran with a more popular crowd.  Cathy made the Beauty Pageant idea sound like fun and I quickly agreed to join them.  I could picture myself, tiara sparkling with diamonds on my head, roses cradled in my arms, crying and waving at the crowds.   Like Anne, I did not realize either sister's secret motive.
     The enterprising sisters also invited three young men to be judges.  The first two were the dark haired Jones brothers, who were the neighborhood heartthrobs.  They really were very handsome.  The Jones brothers made all of us girls on the bus sigh.  One of the brother's was a year older than Cathy and I.  The other, a year younger.
     The final choice of judge was the sister's biggest mistake.  The girls asked their brother Jack.  You'll remember that Jack's are usually the hero in fairytales.  This Jack was no exception.  Jack was friends with the older of the Jones brothers, also a year older than Cathy and I, and not so easily led as his sister's believed.
     The pageant was set for the next afternoon.  Anne and I were in the middle of a mess, we just didn't know it yet.
     Join me tomorrow, as the fairytale continues...
Update:   The Ball  and Midnight.

21 Graces: Week 4

     I've always admired those faithful people who are counting a thousand blessings.  I thought about attempting it from time to time.  But,  recording 1,000 blessings seemed a little overwhelming.  I'm good at accepting blessings, but to write them down was another story.  That's why when I saw the idea behind 21 Graces, I was excited to jump in.  Everyday I note three things which blessed me.  That's it, just three things.  At the end of the week there are 21 Graces.  So simple.  God always blesses me with far more than three each day.
     Friend, you are welcome to join in on the fun.  Visit Jordy Liz Blogs to link up or to find out more.

1. Root Beer Floats
2. County Fairs
3. Getting an unexpected check in the mail.
4. Talking to my adult son on the phone.
5. Baby robins.
6. Red converse sneakers.
7. My entry closet remodel!   Soon to be posted.
   
8. Purging the basement of lost, broken, and forgotten items.
9. Finding a brand new Kitchen Aid Mixer on Craigslist for $100.00!  The twist tie wasn't even off of the cord and the beaters were still wrapped in the packing paper.  So excited!
10. Receiving a letter from my Compassion Child, Jimi in Indonesia.
11. First day of college for my daughter!  
12. The wonder of a fresh coat of paint.
13. Getting to see baby turtles newly hatched from their eggs.  So perfect.
14. A dentist who actually listens to me!
15. Getting some projects completed around the house.
16. Finding the perfect material for the seats of my dining room chairs.
17. A dinner prepared with love for our family.
18. My son telling me, "You are usually helpful, Mom."
19. My husband tucking the blankets around me when he gets up for his early morning walk.
20. That first amazing sip of coffee in the morning.
21. Chicken eggs warm from the nest.

     Be true to yourself, help others, make each day your masterpiece, make friendship a fine art, drink deeply from good books -  especially the Bible, build a shelter against a rainy day, give thanks for your blessings and pray for guidance every day.  ~John Wooden

21 Graces - Week 3

     I've always admired those faithful people who are counting a thousand blessings.  I thought about attempting it from time to time.  But,  recording 1,000 blessings seemed a little overwhelming.  I'm good at accepting blessings, but to write them down was another story.  That's why when I saw the idea behind 21 Graces, I was excited to jump in.  Everyday I note three things which blessed me.  That's it, just three things.  At the end of the week there are 21 Graces.  So simple.  God always blesses me with far more than three each day.

     Friend, you are welcome to join in on the fun.  Visit Jordy Liz Blogs to link up or to find out more.

1. A wonderful family reunion.  It was so fun to catch up with everyone.  To admire the babies and exclaim over accomplishments.  A beautiful day.
2. Finally, getting the slide show together for the church VBS.  Love those adorable children.
3. Hearing that one of our laser etched pictures on granite, that I painted is such a favorite with a family friend that he has used the picture he took of it as a screen saver for years!
4. Starting to get my classroom ready for the new school year which begins on September 3.
5. Working on our entry closet makeover.  It's starting to come together.
6. Early morning quiet time.
7. My 18 year old daughter uttered the words, "You were RIGHT, Mom."  And the heavens opened and the angels sang!
8. New slippers.
9. Pat picking up the chicken feed so I wouldn't have to.
10. Going for a walk at the Walkway over the Hudson.
11. The smell of sheets hung outside to dry.
12. Fresh tomatoes.
13. I drank water out of my 11 year old son's glass by mistake.  "Mom!  You just took my glass!"  Oooops.  Well, I hope you didn't spit in it.    "No,  If there was any spit, it was ON it and not IN it.  That one little letter makes all of the difference!"  Yes, it does.
14. A perfect summer day.
15. Walking on the Walkway Over the Hudson.  So peaceful.
16. Not running out of gas.
17. Knowing that my classroom is ready for the first day of school.
18. Time to dream.
19. A good book and time to read it.
20. A compliment from a friend.
21. Watching Around the World in 80 Days, starring Jackie Chan, with my family.

     Look here for Week 1.
     Look here for Week 2.
     How has God blessed you this week?

21 Graces - Week 2

If God doesn’t rule your mundane, then he doesn’t rule you.                                     Because that’s where you live.  -Paul Tripp

     21 Graces is based on writing down three moments of grace or blessing each day.  At the end of a week you have documented 21 Graces.  Look here for my first week.  You are welcome to join us at Jordy Liz Blogs as we link our lists.

1.  Visiting an old friend of my Father-in-law's in the hospital.
2.  Making an eight foot tall balloon tree for Vacation Bible School with friends.
3.  Worship music.
4.  A nap on a Sunday afternoon.
5.  Washing feet at VBS.
6.  Re-organizing our entry closet to make things easier and prettier when school starts in September.
7.  The smell of freshly cut lumber.
8.  Blueberries, tomatoes, cucumbers, and green salad.
9.  New school supplies.
10.  The sincerity of a child's prayer.

11.  Warm rain on a summer morning.
12.  Taking pictures at our church's VBS.  The sweet love the children show for each other.
13.  S'mores!

14.  A purring cat on my lap.
15.  Having access to medical and dental care, when so many do not.
16.  Watching the children at VBS serving others by bringing in donations for a local food pantry, writing notes to the Compassion child we sponsor,  and filling shoe boxes with goodies for Samaritan's Purse.
17.  Chickens squawking to announce the arrival of an egg.
18.  Dishwashers!  Washing machines & Dryers!
19.  Going to Ikea to buy a set of drawers, only to find the very one we wanted - as a perfect floor sample - for less money -  already put together!  Win!
20.   Ice cream sundae's.
21.   Cookies warm from the oven.

Days of Grace

     Every day, no matter how boringly ordinary, gifts us with moments of sweet grace.  The first cup of coffee in the morning.  The smell of sun dried laundry.  The way my son's hair swirls around his cowlick.  A glorious sunset.  My husband's hands holding mine.
     Jordy of Jordy Liz Blogs has been documenting three such moments each day.  You can read about her experience here.  Pretty amazing.  Each day she lists three blessings, by the end of the week she has 21 Graces to share.  Jordy  posts her list each Friday and invites others to join her.
     So here is my first list For 21 Graces.

1. A "new" set of china, bought for a song.
2. Haircuts.
3. Morning walks.
4. Dinner with friends.
5. Sunflowers
6. Pat filling my car with gas.
7. Perfume in my favorite scent - Pure Grace.
8. A new-to-me car!
9. A dinner date with my husband.
10. Spending the day with a good friend.
11. Driving my new car.
12. Going to the movies with my daughter, Patty.
13. Movie popcorn.
14. Chickens in the back yard.
15. Making memories with my family.
16. Pat's mustache.
17. Going to the Renaissance Fair.
18. Talking to my Mom and Dad on the phone.
19. Goodnight kisses.
20.  Fireflies glowing in the summer night.
21.  A new purse - on sale!