I’ll be honest, I’d never really thought about what happens from the time I add Bertie Botts Ever Flavor Beans, a case of Italian Flour, AA batteries, and the newest book by Annie F. Downs to my Amazon cart. I just hope it gets to me fast. My youngest had a recent fieldtrip to Honeywell, which engineers the robots and mechanical sorting systems that make sure all those items we order online get to our houses correctly and in time. Now that I’ve seen the inner workings, I realize hope isn’t really the right word. I know my order will arrive quickly. You should see those robots! Seeing how it all works was particularly interesting, because, let’s just say I checked a few things off my “nice” list with a few clicks on my trusty Mac. As a result I keep eyeing the front porch or the sketchy car in my driveway as someone I’ve never seen before approaches (#amazondelivery), thinking I hope …the sweater I ordered for Maguire to wear on Christmas is the right size, the sweatshirt I got for Mallory is super soft, I intercept the gift I ordered for Brett before he spies it on the doorstep. Christmas time is full of hope. When my kids were little they had wish lists of things they hoped Santa would leave under the tree. They hoped they’d be the first to find Frosty, our resident Elf on the Shelf, each morning, and for the jingle of bells from Nana’s front porch signaling a special guest appearance from Santa. They’re older now and hope for mornings they can sleep in under thick blankets, and that if we make a coffee run they’ll get a sweet peppermint mocha or cocoa topped with extra creamy whipped cream. What are you hoping for this Christmas? That first Christmas? Can you imagine how thick and desperate hope was in the air? Although the Bible doesn’t specifically say, I imagine when Mary found out she was pregnant with God’s son, she must have hoped with every cell of her body that Joseph would believe her, that he wouldn’t walk away from their betrothal, leave her to be a single mom. In her day that meant she’d be an outcast and most likely homeless. When Joseph heard Mary’s news and decided to go through with the whole marrying her thing, despite her umm condition, I’m guessing he hoped people wouldn’t talk too much, that society would still accept him and his wife, that he would still get carpentry work. At that time Rome was in charge of the people of Israel and life was oppressive. Royalty and rulers were rich, and the poor were impoverished. Laws were harsh. Taxes were high. Life was exhausting. And God? He’d promised a Messiah for centuries. Four hundred years had passed since the prophet, Malachi, had put down his pen. The Jewish nation was desperate, and they were hoping for God to make a move. And God came through in the most glorious of ways. He sent Jesus. Hope of the world. I used to get frustrated when I was young and asked my parents what they wanted for Christmas. They’d answer, “I don’t need anything.” Now I get what they meant. I don’t need anything. But I still have things I hope for. I hope my mother-in-law’s move goes smoothly, that she really finds joy in her new home. I hope my kids don’t get too stressed during their exam weeks, that we all get to spend quality time together as a family over Christmas break, that a friend who recently lost his job finds peace and security. But I don’t just hope these things. I realize that’s not the right word. I know these things are in good hands. Not because of robots or sophisticated sorting systems. But because my hope is in Jesus. And I can count on Him. We don’t need advanced technology to fulfill our spiritual list of hopes, translation—prayer requests. We have a Savior we can rely on—who will always be here for us. Until the end of the days. The people I care about are in Jesus’ hands. And He loves them so, I can be assured He will give them the opportunities and rest they need, if they’ll let Him. I can be certain peace and joy are available to everyone I’m praying for. And I can exhale, knowing my loved ones are in the very best hands. “My hope is found in nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness. I do not trust the sweetest frame. But wholly lean on Jesus’ name,” goes the old hymn. All of Israel was hoping that night over 2000 years ago. And then Jesus showed up. In a barn. To a peasant teenager. I doubt anyone guessed things would go down like that. But maybe they should have, because God promised it would be so. God told the prophets how He would save them. God promised a Savior from the lineage of David, to be born in Bethlehem, to a virgin. And when Jesus came He checked all of those boxes, fulfilled every promise. Because that’s who God is. God consistently delivers what He promises. Who the Israelites had long been hoping for came. Jesus is hope.
So, yes, let’s put our hope in Jesus this Christmas. But let’s redefine hope as not something we’re crossing our fingers for, but something we’re trusting God to do at exactly the right place and time. This most likely won’t look how we envision it. Many of the Jews were hoping for a strong military commander or a rich and mighty king. Jesus is strong, He does command authority, and man, is He mighty, but when Jesus showed up as a baby, people struggled to see all of that, to connect the dots. It wasn’t that God had mixed up the packages or the addresses. Nope. God has 0% error. He kept His promise. He always does. Always will. So let’s live in expectant hope this Christmas, of all of the promises Jesus will keep—to love, cherish, redeem, rescue, and stand by us, forever more. Let’s keep our eyes wide open like little kids on Christmas morning, believing Jesus will do what He said He would do, not just wanting Him to be, but fully believing that He IS the hope of the world. Now faith is the substance of things hoped for. The evidence of things not seen.—Hebrews 11:1 What are you hoping for this Christmas? How will you trust Jesus with your hope?
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The songs “Little Known Facts” from You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown totally cracks me up. Lucy goes around sharing her “wealth of knowledge” with her little brother, Linus. Some of Lucy’s fun facts include that snow comes up from the ground, that bugs make grass grow, and that you can tell how old a tree is by counting its leaves. This song is hilarious when watching the show or listening to the soundtrack. And although still funny, it’s a tad bit scary to imagine a real big sister imparting this kind of knowledge on her younger siblings, and downright frightening when we consider being misled by unreliable sources. And there are so very many sources out there! I love to learn, so I want to gobble up all the info. I download heaps of books on Hoopla, listening to them as I drive home from dropping off one of my kids at practice or while I go for a run. I’m hooked on some phenomenal podcasts—I can listen to a sermon from Upper Room in Dallas or a conversation with author Annie F. Downs, anytime I’m headed out of town or just running errands. I can get almost any book I want delivered to my house in two days thanks to Amazon Prime, not to mention the stacks of reads I check out from the library. Oh, plus the daily devotionals and blogs that land in my inbox. Love! Love! Love! All of the resources. But have you ever been listening to someone or reading something and thought…hmmm…that just doesn’t sound right? I get what they’re saying, but I don’t think bugs really tug on blades of grass to make them grow. You tilt your head to the side or scrunch your lips, because something feels off. The problem is every one of the writers and speakers and bloggers and podcasters and preachers we read or listen to are human. And so although they are experts in their field, have years of experience, and/or love Jesus, they are flawed. Just like me. So their message might be perfectly well intentioned, but they could still be wrong, or maybe right for them, but so not right for me or for you. How do we tell? How do we measure the validity of the content we consume? Of course that depends on what you’re trying to find out. If you’re searching for delicious gluten free recipes, go to someone who is actually gluten free and has to both cook this food and eat it. If they’ve never tried preparing that dish, or don’t actually have to substitute those muffins for standard bakery muffins, they probably shouldn’t be your source. If you’re searching for the best product for your hair ask your stylist—they know your hair better than the marketers at Pantene or L’Oreal ever will. But how about when you want to make sure you’re understanding God, God’s will, Jesus, the teachings of Scripture? How can you be certain you’re getting the right content? There are many brilliant Bible scholars, preachers, and researchers. But there is only one ultimate truth source. The Bible. Our Bibles are God-breathed, so they will always reveal truth. You have been taught the holy Scriptures from childhood, and they have given you the wisdom to receive the salvation that comes by trusting in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach us what is true and to make us realize what is wrong in our lives. It corrects us when we are wrong and teaches us to do what is right. God uses it to prepare and equip his people to do every good work. —2 Timothy 3:15-17 If a preacher says a certain kind of person isn’t welcome at church, or that any specific people group is unworthy or hopeless, and that makes you scratch your head, turn to your Bible. Check out where Jesus loves on the sinners, sick, and psychotic. It turns out Jesus calls all of us His treasures, His precious children, every one of us, no matter what we’ve done, or where we don’t measure up according to worldly standards. That should clear that up. If a pastor or teacher condemns one kind of activity or promotes another—go to your Bible, check it out. Ask them where in the Bible they got their info—if they can’t answer, that’s a problem. You get the idea.
I love the sweet, earthy smell of leaves—the rustle of them as I rake them into mounds. But I’m not going to fall into the trap of counting leaves to see how old a tree is. I know it sounds ridiculous, but there’s a hecka lot of ridiculousness out there these days. Social media and websites are a blessing, but there are no filters or requirements on what anyone can and will say online. God gave us an incredible gift when He gave us the Bible. He handed us His living word, a way for us to always be able to hear Him, no matter how noisy our lives seem to be. He gave us a way to always find Him, always decipher truth, if only we’ll open up the pages and dive in. During this month of gratitude, I am so extremely thankful for the Bible—for the words, promises, history, prayers, guidance, and hope it contains. I am thankful for truth—true north, the ultimate compass. What verse, story, or person from the Bible are you most thankful? Comment on the blog or Facebook or Instagram as part of our #thankfulnessproject. This way we can share with each other brilliant glimpses of God’s truth. My youngest had the day off school the other day (teacher workday) and we decided to live it to the fullest. We cuddled up under the giant, red, fuzzy blanket that sits on our couch with hot cocoa (him) and coffee (me) and watched a movie he’d wanted to see. We fit together the pieces of a giant puzzle of the world, and then we headed to the corn maze. When I’m in a corn maze I feel like I’m in an adventure story, on a mission to find the golden goose or missing clue. Okay, so I’m also dramatic, and live a bit inside my head of fairytales. But I am mystified by corn mazes, not just because they’re the perfect setting for a quest, but also because this destination, which draws people from all over for fall fun is actually just a dead corn field. The farmer grew corn in the summer (knee high by the Fourth of July is the rule in Ohio) and sold thousands of ears of it all summer long. My kids and I husked thick wrappers, and untangled shiny silks. I flash boiled the sweet, golden ears and we ate them slightly salted with watermelon and barbequed chicken all summer long. But summer is over—yikes it got so chilly in a heartbeat—and the corn has been harvested, and it’s time for steaming pots of soup and crisp apples. The farmer could have looked at the brown, dried out stalks, and simply plowed them down, preparing the soil for next year’s planting. He had that choice. Summer was over. Time to move on. But he knows better. He knows that even the stalks had purpose. That none of it has to be wasted. There’s even more to it than immediately meets the eye. The corn has been harvested, but some dried up ears remain on the brittle stalks. These ears will be gathered and used as feed for the cows all winter long. Wild morning glories have taken seed and used the seemingly expired stalks as a support system, upon which they can grow and bloom, vibrant purple blossoms. God, along with all of His other royal attributes, is the King of not letting anything be wasted. He looks at us, even when we feel shriveled and like we’ve been picked clean, even when we have no idea how that thing or that person could be used for our story moving forward and says, “Yup, I can use her. I can use him. I can use that class she taught or the one he took. I can use that conversation, that love for drums or jalapeno peppers, that relationship that fizzled. I can use all of that to add fervor, flair, or fun, or maybe to fortify their life.” He About five years ago I had completed writing a novel and was struggling to find a publisher. A friend arranged for me to meet one of her editor friends, so I could pick his brain on how my book might find a slot in the current industry. The editor was savvy and kind. He gave me solid advice, but unfortunately to this day that novel has never been published. Did God waste this meeting? No. He doesn’t work like that. In January of this year the same editor contacted me and asked me to write two books for him. Two? What? Last week another ministry called saying, the very same guy suggested I might be able to help them with a writing project. What? A lunch over fried green beans, y’all, (apparently it’s a Nashville thing), five years ago did not land my novel a book deal. But it created a relationship that led to future writing adventures. Does that make sense? Of course not to me. But that’s what God is always doing. What in your life looks like it was or is a waste of time. What are you looking at on your desk or in your planner that makes you just shake your head and ask God, “Why?” It could be a place you moved, an organization you invested in, an endeavor you tried. It might look like a dead end now, but God will use it somehow—for growth or healing, as experiences you can learn from and apply around the next bend of this adventure we call life. Sometimes you have to circle back to the direction you just came from in a corn maze to actually progress to the finish line. It doesn’t make sense when you’re in the midst of it. It feels like you’re going backwards. But you’re advancing, gaining the steps you need to get where God really wants you to end up. And even when you hit a dead end or literally walk the same row of corn repeatedly, God uses that too. I promise. For my son and I, who were in the corn maze for over an hour—we literally passed the same couple three different times. “Hi. Again.” We laughed more. We told more stories. We experienced more one-on-one time together. We breathed in bigger gulps of brisk autumn air. And it made my mama heart so full and glad. All because we were lost in some dead corn. I’m so grateful for a brilliant, glorious God who always knows better than I do, which way I should go, when, and why. He chose us in advance. And He makes everything work out according to His plan. —Ephesians 1:11
So, don’t throw up your hands. Take a deep breath. God is with you in this very moment. He sees the work you put in, the avenues you explored, the times you bit your tongue. The day and the day after that when you tried again. He has this giant, phenomenal plan for you, and He’s so excited that you took that step to the left, and that one slightly backwards, because He knows that will lead you to where He’s pointing you. You might see dead, empty stalks. But Jesus sees a phenomenal corn maze, some nourishment for His kingdom, and something wild about to bloom. I always thought it would be too hard to cut up a pineapple. I mean, look at those thorny things. Where do they even keep the fruit in there? So, when I actually treated myself to pineapple it was the approximately $94 for a small plastic tub of pineapple cubes in the produce department. Ridiculous. You guys, cutting up a pineapple is so easy! If you can extract fruit from a watermelon (and you did that all summer, right?) you can certainly dissect a pineapple. It’s practically the same thing. Yet I somehow bought into the grocery store lie that It’s way too hard for you. Let us do all the work and charge you a king’s ransom. It’s better this way. Trust us. Turns out, it’s not better that way. Pineapple is sweeter, fresher, and incredibly more delicious when it’s freshly released from its thorny protection. It’s also way cheaper. We’ve all bought into lies. My grandma died of emphysema—a disease that destroyed her lungs brought on by smoking. When I was little, I begged her to quit and even hid her cigarettes. Every time, Grandma would argue, “I’m addicted now. It’s too late. But when I started I didn’t know it was bad for me. When I started smoking no one had any idea.” No idea? That inhaling ignited carcinogens could be lethal? But that generation honestly didn’t know. They’d been fed the lie that smoking was relaxing and glamorous and harmless. Sometimes the lies we believe are out of convenience or lack of information. But what about the lies we’ve been told about our self worth? About how talented or smart we are or are not? About how attractive or ugly or fat or thin we are? How about the lies that we’re not good enough, can’t do it, shouldn’t even try? Or the lies that say we have to please this person and that person and achieve that thing and know those facts and cook those types of meals and do those kind of exercises if we want to be accepted or loved? All these lies are as ludicrous as the one that you can’t chop a piece of fruit or that smoking can’t harm you. You are loved. You are accepted. You are exactly as God intended you to be—brilliant, with your own set of special talents, and a unique calling that He has crafted specifically for you. God has started a great work in you and won’t give up, or leave you alone, or fire you, or stop being proud of you, until that great work comes to completion. You don’t have to have the fridge stocked with all the things, be on time to all of the events, wear the right pair of shoes while you’re there, and have your kids look or act a certain way to earn enough gold stars to keep going. God loves you today as you sit and read this blog, not wearing anything super spectacular, weighing exactly how much you weigh, with precisely the number of dollars you have in your bank account, the particular prospects you have in front of you, and exactly your specific social status. That’s how He loves you—how you are, not how you “have” to be, or how you think you “should” be. What lies have you been listening to? Things someone or society or maybe even you, yourself, said about how you need to look or what you need to achieve and how and by when? So, non-math me has been helping my daughter with Geometry proofs. Not my strong suit, but the thing about proofs, is even I can figure them out. They simply use facts to prove facts—very logical. Hard to argue or mess up. And if we want to sort out lies from truths, this seems to be a pretty good way to go. So when Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” we hear that Jesus is truth. And since He’s God, and incapable of lying, let’s roll with that. Jesus is the truth. Fact. Jesus also says, “I’ll be with you to the end of the world. I love you. I laid down my life for you. I forgive you. You are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you. You are mine.” So, if Jesus is truthful AND He claims you are precious, honored, redeemed, and loved. Then you are all of those things. FACT. Stop believing silly lies. Stop accepting them as true without even picking up your knife and trying to pare them away. Slice off those prickly untruths today and savor the delicious truth that the One who created everything, created you. And He loves you so fully that He would do anything for you. He already has. Jesus died for you. This love. This truth. This is how we face our weeks, how we assess what truly matters and how we’re perceived. Truth. Not lies. You are precious. Honored. And loved. Believe it. Because it is true.
“I’m horrified,” my son said as I came down the stairs. “Ummm... why?” Keep in mind I had not had coffee yet. “There’s a toad in my room!” “Wh—aatt?” Still no coffee. “I woke up, saw a brown lump on the floor, and it’s a toad, and I put a bowl over it.” Good morning? Thankfully my husband entered the kitchen, and we retold the tale to him. He swept in like a fairy tale prince and somehow scooped up the toad and escorted him outside. I never saw the toad. I have no pictures to post of the little fellow. I have zero idea how he could have hopped his bumpy self into our house, up a flight of stairs, down a hall and into my son’s room. Not a clue. But yet I believe it. I don’t question the story of the toad even though it doesn’t make sense, and the only proof I have is testimonies from my son and husband. I didn’t see it. But the toad was there. Which brings me to another frog fairy tale. In the classic, The Frog Prince, a prince is turned into a frog. He needs a princess to kiss him to return to his royal, human state. He meets a princess and tells her his sad story, but the princess treats him, well, like pond scum. Why should the princess believe this frog’s story? Why would she ever kiss a slimy, green reptile smelling of swamps? But the moment the princess kisses the frog it is so obvious, this thing she couldn’t see before, but that had been there all along was absolutely true. The princess didn’t see that a jumpy frog could be a prince. But he was. Are we only believing the things we can see? If I can trust two mischievous boys (yes, my husband counts as a boy) about an outlandish story involving a stair-climbing toad, then shouldn’t it be easy for me to believe everything the King of the Universe tells me? Shouldn’t I accept all of God’s promises without a doubt? Or am I like the princess? A little doubtful, because I don’t always see things clearly? Because I’m too caught up in my own life, the distractions, the noise, in the things I’m used to, to see the full story. When Jesus says to us, “You are completely loved.” Do we believe it? Or do we doubt the minute someone cuts us down? When Jesus says, “I have plans for you to prosper.” Do we believe it? Or as soon as things don’t go the way we hoped or expected do we doubt? When Jesus says, “You are forgiven of the lowest deed you’ve ever done if you follow Me.” Do we believe Him? Or do we hold our past sins and mistakes over our own heads, wearing them like labels, to categorize or punish ourselves? You guys there was a toad in my house. The frog really was a prince. But even more importantly, everything Jesus says is true. It’s real. Even if you don’t see it, you are loved. He does have amazing plans for you. You are forgiven. God is on your side. But some days that feels hard to hold onto. In 2 Kings 6 a prophet named Elisha is on the King’s list. The cruel king sends a hecka lot of hit men to surround the city where Elisha is and take him out. When Elisha’s servant sees the soldiers he freaks out. Wouldn’t you? But Elisha doesn’t bat an eyelash, because he sees something that the servant doesn’t. Elisha sees and believes that God is on His side, that the God of Angel Armies is fighting for him. Elisha prays the servant’s eyes will be opened. God opens the servant’s eyes and voila! The servant sees something that had been there the whole time, but that he couldn’t even imagine, let alone see. With open eyes the servant sees hundreds of soldiers and chariots of fire—armies of God on their side. God was protecting Elisha and his servant. God had the enemy outnumbered and out-powered and out-strategized. He always does. Protective troops were in place, already there. Elisha’s servant just couldn’t see it. Yet.
If you feel outnumbered today, or out of luck or out of time or out of money or outlandishly sad or overwhelmed, open your eyes. Believe what is true. Even if you can’t see it. Even if all the “evidence” you have is that someone who loves you said so. Jesus does love you. And He says, actually He promises, that He will never forsake you. That He has His hand on you for something special. That He loves you very much. Be open to the miracle of it all—of His unexpected, unbelievable, unfathomable love, forgiveness, and protection. Because toads can (apparently) hop upstairs. God’s armies are protecting you in full force with phenomenal chariots of fire. And perhaps, just maybe, frogs can be kissed into princes. For more inspiration throughout the week hang out with me on: Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter Saturday night two of the kids had soccer scrimmages. We thought it was a great excuse to grab the grandmas, bring them along for an evening of visiting and watching the kids play. However, the sky had other plans. The clouds thought it was a fantastic night for a thunderstorm. After driving an hour to the location of Game #1, we sat in the car watching the sky flash with electricity and listening to booming thunder for over an hour. Then this game was cancelled altogether. But you know what? We also ended up having a picnic in the car—if you count hot, salty, rosemary fries and chicken sandwiches smeared with creamy avocado from Smashburger a picnic, and I do. When the storm stopped, the sun came out revealing a spectacular full-arc rainbow. We had thirty minutes while the team warmed up, so we went on a lovely walk around the school grounds. We laughed, got caught up, and had a sweet family evening despite the weather. What changes in plans have switched your schedule this week? How did you handle them? Sunday night was date night. I put on lipstick, sprayed perfume, set up our kids with frozen pizzas and a movie, hugged them goodbye, and drove into the sunset with the man of my dreams. We pulled into the empty parking lot of the yummy Italian restaurant we’d planned on dining at to discover a “Closed” sign in their window. Gratefully, I have a quick-thinking entrepreneurial husband who embraces changes in plans. He calls them “opportunities.” No lie, the man rubbed his hands together as if now that our date night had been hijacked, the world was his oyster. Fifteen minutes later we exited Kroger with a baguette, brie, a bottle of wine, and a couple of crisp apples—all the fixings for an impromptu dinner for two that didn’t involve me cooking, because please, date night. Our kids were surprised to see us. But you know what? We had a romantic evening on our screened-in porch. My husband and I talked for hours while dipping crusty bread in creamy cheese, and bonus, grocery goodies were way less expensive than dinner out would have been. When your plans get turned upside down, what do you do? Panic? Get angry? Shut down? Start pointing fingers? Or look for opportunities? Figure out how to reallocate your time, look for ways to shuffle the pieces around to make a different picture, double up, juggle, or seize the day? Here’s the deal. I do so much better when there’s a schedule. We have four kids and life gets crazy, and the only way to get everyone where they need to be when they need to be there and make sure we’re all fed on a daily basis is by planning it all out. I sleep better, breathe deeper, am more relaxed when I know what to expect. But plans change. All the time. The examples I gave are every day occurrences—the flight gets cancelled or an impromptu party breaks out or the meeting gets changed or someone gets sick or they win an award and the ceremony is tonight…and it’s out of our hands, and we have to adjust, cope, slide into Plan B. I’m also aware there are changes in plans that rip the carpet right out from under our feet, leaving us feeling helpless about how to move forward. But God is with us through all of it—the every day and the tragic. Right beside us. Loving us. We need to lean on Him when the changes are too hard to take on our own, and be open to what God has in store. Because He has so very much good for us planned. I love the song, “Yes I Will,” by Vertical Worship. It starts, “I count on one thing. The same God who never fails, will not fail me now.” Oh gosh, amen! We cannot count on the weather or our health or the calendar or other people all of the time. But we can always count on one thing—God. He’s the one who is in control. He’s the one who will never change, never let us down. And He is there in all of it. Every single thing.
So we are convinced that every detail of our lives is continually woven together to fit into God’s perfect plan of bringing good into our lives, for we are his lovers who have been called to fulfill his designed purpose. —Romans 8:28 So, when a curve ball comes your way today:
I guarantee sometime this week you will experience a change in plans. No matter how big or small, or exciting or jarring, I promise He is at work, for good. God’s plan is perfect. And He will never fail you. I am a horrible singer, but I love music, so I sing all the time anyway. I’m constantly adding songs to my Spotify playlists. One of my kids will play something that I positively need or the worship band at church will sing something I have to add to my library. When I add new songs, I find myself playing them on repeat, singing them again and again, as they do the magic that music does to me, tugging at my heart, pulling my feet to step and sway, making me feel lighter, more alive. Psalm 96 begins by instructing us to, “Sing to the Lord a new song.” It got me wondering what my current song to the Lord is, what playlist I am automatically clicking on, and if it needs to be freshened up. I thought through my days—praises to God for my husband and kids. Pleas to God for friends and family with ailments and needs. Thanks to God before meals, as the new days dawn, as the tired days tug at my eyelids. Good songs I sing to God. At least I think they are. But new ones? Could I use some? Could you? This past week I’ve been reading Psalm 96 over and over asking God, “How do you want me to change my tune? What new song would you like me to sing?” Remember how big I am, I hear Him say as I gaze upward at impossibly tall trees reaching toward brilliant blue sky on my back porch. Remember how faithful I am He whispers as I go for a walk with my youngest, listening to him chatter about the Skittles his team won reviewing terms for vocabulary and about the clues to the crime in the novel he’s reading—voice animated, blue eyes flashing excitement. This boy who has overcome a hole in his heart and a life-threatening peanut allergy in his handful of years on earth, who God has literally saved over and over. Believe how complete I am, God nudges, as I glimpse a stunning sunrise in the morning and am captivated by a breath-taking sunset in the same day, murals painted across the sky, the ultimate performance-art-piece bookending my waking hours. As I question what’s next, as my prayers are peppered with ‘please help us figure out this, transition into that, discern what to do about this’…God says, “I hear you. I love it when you share with Me what’s on your heart. I love you. I promise to care for you and your family in ways you can’t comprehend. But, would you add another song to your library?” God asks. “One of trust—because of how great I am, because of how faithful I am, because of how ultimate I am. Just savor this, and I think you’ll find everything else will fall into place.” And for a moment I understand. The God who created all of this—each tulip perfectly shaped and steeped in bright colors teetering on fragile stems, each sip of coffee brewed from water running through dried beans and metamorphosing into morning nectar, each laugh ringing through the air like tiny chimes, the God who has answered prayer after prayer, the God who is with me when I wake welcoming me with my first glimpse of morning light and lulling me to rest as my weary head hits the pillow each night. This God is to be fully trusted, counted on, relied on. Because He is infinite, glorious, loving, caring, brilliant, and unstoppable. For great is the Lord and most worthy of praise. Psalm 96:4 When I meditate on these truths I know that Jesus loves the people I love even more deeply than I do, and therefore He has their best interests in mind. I know that God has plans to grow His kingdom, to grow me, and therefore He will guide me down the paths He wants me to take. I know He is in control, that God has the power to light up the sky with stars or sunshine or rainbows or snowflakes. That He can make giant oaks grow from tiny brown seeds wearing patterned caps. That He can freeze time or speed it up. Jesus can do anything and everything. This makes my worries, my anxieties disappear. Yes, I will continue to talk to Him about all of the things I’m grateful for and concerned about, the things that scare me, shake me, make me cry and the ones that make me dance, grin, and giggle. Because our Heavenly Father is so sweet and caring, He wants to know, wants to talk about it. But I will also add a song of praise to Him to my prayer playlist. For being Him. Because when I do, everything else comes into a better perspective, a more rhythmic beat, a more beautiful melody.
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