Fall Folliage or Road Kill

Greetings!

Well, how’s that for a way to get your attention after being incognito for the last several weeks. You may all have deserted me by now. Still, my counter says a few of you are checking in periodically. Thanks for not giving up on me entirely, though I can't say I'd blame you, never knowing when I'm going to show up again. Just the way it is these days. :-)

Since my last post, quite a lot has happened. I spent a week vacationing in my old stompin’ grounds of Nashville before attending the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) conference. I had a great time visiting with old friends. I truly am a Northwest gal at heart and feel more at “home” here in Coeur d’Alene than I ever did in Tennessee. But that’s only geographically speaking. In terms of the friendships I left behind, I left some treasures and I miss some of those friends more than ever having just seen them! Life’s sure about tradeoffs.

No matter where I’ve lived, I love autumn. And I remember fall as especially beautiful in Tennessee. One day as I commuted to work, I started thinking about fall foliage. And road kill, too. I better explain.

During the 10 years I lived in Tennessee, I saw a lot of “road kill”—those sorry skunks, squirrels, possums and other varmints unfortunate enough to be hit by automobiles. And there’s nothing lovely about road kill. Those critters’ bloody carcasses lay strewn across our roads and interstates. We are alerted to an animal's presence before we even see it from its stench. Most of us instinctively look away.

But at the same time while driving to work each day, I’d witness the leaves turning from green to shades of reds and browns and oranges. Early in the season, the leaves are just beginning to change. The trees are pretty but at the peak of their cycle, the color is breathtaking. Yet much too soon, the wind blows and the leaves fall to the ground. They fall because they are dead.

Two deaths. One so ugly you instinctively look away. The other so breathtakingly beautiful, you can’t look away (except enough to keep your eyes on the road!). Each of us are born with a sin nature. You might say the state of our hearts before Christ establishes residence is a little like road kill. We are spiritually dead in our sins. But fall foliage is a beautiful picture of death to self by way of yielding to the Holy Spirit. It is a glorious picture of how God sees us as we die to ourselves. John the Baptist said "I must decrease so that Christ might increase." Our death is beautiful in the sight of God.

We love to gaze upon the site of the leaves changing color. Do we say, "Look at the dead leaves, aren't they pretty?" No. We say, "Look at the leaves changing color, aren't they beautiful."

Trials in our lives have a way of making our lives beautiful if we’ll allow God to work. In the book of James we read: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

When we are facing severe trials, God’s desire is that they would cause us not to rely on our strength, skill, tenacity but to trust in Him to strengthen us and see us through. When I experience this crushing, it helps me to remember that God is not capricious. If He’s allowed this difficulty; it’s not without purpose. He will decide the duration and the intensity. I’ve discovered over the years that God and I seldom draw the line in the same place when it comes to my declaration of “This is too hard, I can’t do this any more.” I may think I can’t do it any more, whatever it is, but God knows when to pull the plug on a trial. Meanwhile, He reminds me that I’m "changing colors." What God is doing in my life and in yours, if you are a Christian, is a beautiful sight. A heart that is becoming more like Christ’s is always a beautiful thing to behold. The pain is not pleasant but painful Hebrews 12 tells us. What follows, however, is a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.

Those who are physically blind sadly cannot appreciate the beauty of the fall foliage. Neither can those who are spiritually blinded by their sin. They won't see the breaking, the crushing, the dying to self that God allows as something beautiful. They will instead see the "proof" of a God who could not possibly love us. I, for one, by God’s grace and tender mercy, have purposed in my heart to view the trials He allows in my life as He does.

Father, thank you for giving us the fall foliage as a picture of how death to self looks to You. Amen.

Checking In

Hi all,

Well, I guess I really did disappear. Did you notice? I changed my blog to match my Web site. I thought Labor Day would have been a good day to post since it had been exactly a month since I disappeared, but then I forgot.

For those of you who continue to check in (I can tell by my counter), thanks so much. Don’t have a clue who you are, though. As far as me, all is well. My WordCount Web site is up and running, www.wordcount.biz, and my business is growing slowly but steadily. For this I am most grateful and excited to see.

Tomorrow morning at the crack of dawn I’m headed for Nashville, TN. The first few days I’ll be spending with friends, and then attending the American Christian Fiction Writers conference. It’s gonna be a grand time seeing my writing pals and making a few new ones, too!

Hope y’all are well. Until next time.

Blessings,

Gayle

Redirected

Good Friday morning!

Thankfully, my computer woes were resolved on Wednesday but it took me most of the day. It finally occurred to me to email the friend who installed the software just to let her know what was happening. She said she wished I had written her earlier (like about five hours earlier). I could have saved myself a lot of grief not to mention hours wasted. I spent so much time trying to trouble shoot a problem, taking drastic measures at times where none were even necessary. The remedy was much simpler than the route I took.

Once the crisis was over, I started thinking how my approach to a computer problem is entirely different than God’s approach to me. As I said, the first sign of this problem, I tried to fix it, but I didn’t understand the problem. So, having researched a bit on line, I started troubleshooting, thinking maybe it’s this or that. Ended up uninstalling a couple of programs, twice, when I probably didn’t need to do this at all.

I am so thankful to God that He never merely “troubleshoots” in my life. He doesn’t look down from heaven one day and see that I’m hurting, or wrestling with some sin, or witness a bad attitude surfacing and start “fiddling” with my life. Rather, if God sees a problem, He knows exactly how He plans to fix it.

Okay, switching gears, the reason for today’s title, “redirected.” This is the last day I’m posting for a while—perhaps a real long while, though I’m not sure. To say I’m “quitting” my blog seems too severe. But I may be. Thing is, if I stop posting for awhile, y’all won’t know to come back and check, although it would be great if you did sometimes.

Here’s the deal. I’d been praying for a long time about whether God wanted me to expand the freelance marketing assistance I offered to a couple of clients to a full fledged business. He answered that prayer a few months ago when WordCount was born. Still not sure whether I’ll end up landing a full-time position here in the area and WordCount will merely supplement that job. (I thoroughly enjoy my job of administratively supporting authors). Or maybe WordCount will become my full time job. Time will tell. All I know is my business continues to grow. Recently had my new website designed, http://www.wordcount.biz, but I need to finish researching and writing the copy for that.

Further, I’ve noticed that I am spending long hours at my computer, far more than I would have if my job was off site. This has been robbing me of exercise time out in the glorious sunshine, or time with friends. Just time to chill. So much time spent at the computer soon cuts into my productivity. I’m busy, sure, but am I productive?

So the Lord showed me recently that my blog is one area that I need to cut out. It’s not just the time I spend writing it—I’m really slow and won’t even tell you how long it takes me to post each blog—but the time I spend mulling possible themes over in my mind. Actually, the part of thinking about the “when I remember” principles of God’s love, mercy, and grace each day is terrific. I won’t be changing that! Just won’t be writing all those thoughts down here!

Thanks for hanging with me over the last few months. It’s been such a blessing sharing a bit of my heart and my journey with Christ with all of you. Like I said, I may post sometimes. Heck, maybe I’ll post tomorrow if I suddenly feel a hankerin’ to share. But I also might not post for a month or two. Or six. Or maybe I’ll post next week but then not again for a month.

You get the picture. Just won’t be committing to any sense of regularity any more.

May God richly bless you this weekend with family and friends.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven….I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere him. (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 14)

Computer Problems

Hey folks,

Well, I have some big time computer problems this morning. At least at the moment, they seem pretty big. Eating my time, making me a bit anxious. Can’t really concentrate on much—not, even talking with y’all—until I get this settled. I have some things I’m going to try but you know how it goes. Takes time.

So, I bid you all a nice day and I’ll see you back on Friday. Any prayers would be much appreciated! Thanks!

Read this passage this morning:

Stop putting your trust in mere humans. They are as frail as breath. How can they be of help to anyone? (Isaiah 2:22 NLT)

Same could be said about my computer at the moment. I really don’t mean that, you understand. Just need to solve this problem. My livelihood depends on my computer functioning well!

Grace in Temptation

Happy Monday.

Last Friday I talked about temptation and how sometimes I deal with it better than others. I also shared how God is faithful, not allowing us to be tempted beyond what we can bear. (1 Cor. 10:13).

I was reminded of a story from my childhood. At this time, I had a knowledge of God and a tender conscience. I would not accept Christ as my Savior for many years but God was clearly working in my heart, even then. I’ve never forgotten this story.

***

Returning from recess, we took off our shoes and set them beside the door of our classroom. In Miss Cupid’s third grade (don’t ya just love that name?), we’d been studying about the Japanese culture. Today was officially designated as “Japanese Day.” We were so excited because ours was the only third grade class who would be eating authentic Japanese food for lunch instead of the boring peanut butter and jelly sandwiches which generally graced our lunch boxes.

We each sat in a circle while Miss Cupid set out her frying pan and various utensils. She then opened a small plastic bowl of marinated steak and gently began sautéing. A few moments later she added the vegetables to complete here Teriyaki stir fry. I was so hungry and the meal smelled wonderful.

And yet, the moment I saw Miss Cupid toss in the steak, I grew sad. As a Catholic, at least back then, we didn’t eat meat of Friday. Today was Friday. I knew I could eat the vegetables but I loved steak and I wanted it.

All the while the meal cooked, I could only think about how much I wanted my steak. There wasn’t a lot, and I knew we wouldn’t each get that many pieces. But we each would get some and I wanted it so bad. I resolved in my heart, I would not eat it. I just wouldn’t.

Finally, my teacher transferred the stir fry into a glass bowl where she’d already prepared the rice and handed it to the first student, where he took a small portion then passed the bowl on to the next. When the bowl had made it half way around the circle, I turned to the boy next to me, who I also knew was Catholic. Too bad we can’t eat the meat, huh, David? Oh, it’s okay, he said. I’ll just go to confession on Sunday.

Wait a minute, I thought. That can’t be right. Seems I’m supposed to at least try to do the right thing from the start, not deliberately do the wrong thing, thinking that apologizing afterward was enough to make it okay. So when the bowl passed to me, somehow I managed to take only the vegetables and rice but didn’t take a single piece of meat. I then passed the bowl to David. Without hesitation, he scooped up some of the meat. I had a hard time with that. We had the same beliefs and yet I let the meat pass and he didn’t. Again, it wasn’t that I didn’t understand that we all make mistakes. What troubled me was that he thought going to confession afterwards made it okay to do this.

Now, though, I began to rationalize. Maybe it was okay after all. And yet, how can something be not okay one minute and then suddenly become okay simply because I want to do it really bad? My little eight-year-old conscience was taking a beating.

After we all had a small portion, there was enough left over so Miss Cupid passed the bowl around again. This time, I decided, when the bowl came to me, I would take some steak this time. I just wasn’t strong enough to say no two times! And yet, when the bowl passed to me, all that was left was rice and vegetables. No steak!

***

Years later as I began to study my Bible, I learned there was no Biblical restriction against eating meat on Friday. Yet obviously, my purpose in sharing this story is not to speak despairingly again Catholicism or any other denomination.

The reason why the story stuck with me all these years is this. I tried to do the right thing according to my conscience at that time and I did do the right thing. But when the temptation simply proved too strong for me the second time around, and I knew I couldn’t make the right choice again, God removed the temptation. Now I didn’t think in such terms back then as an eight-year-old. In fact I do remember being a little disappointed by the time the bowl came to me.

Yet in my heart I really felt like God had done me a favor. And when you think about it, isn’t that what God’s grace is? Always giving us a break when we don’t deserve it, forever wanting to just do us a favor?

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13)

Escaping Temptation

Blessed Friday to y’all. Another gorgeous day here. Love this town.
I’ve been thinking about this verse:

No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it. (1 Corinthians 10:13)

I have found this to be true. Unfortunately, I’m ashamed to admit that too often not only do I not take the way of escape, I choose not to even ask God what that way might be. Worse, sometimes I know, but I just don’t feel like fighting to do the right thing. I pretend I don’t see it. Yea, isn’t that what two year olds do? If I cover my eyes, I can’t see you, so surely you can’t see me. This mentality of me wanting what I want when I want it is so foolish. Downright stupid. But we mortals are masters at justification. Deep down, or maybe not even so deep down, I always know when I’m justifying.

I’ve always heard that it’s my sin (yes, yours, too) but my sin that nailed Christ to that cross. That is so sobering that most the time, I can scarcely comprehend this, though it’s a good thing to keep in mind. And when I have these moments where I “get it,” I think why would I ever choose to sin again. Ever. I love God. Don’t want to hurt Him. Still I do.

Why?

Really pretty simple. That propensity to sin is a part of me. I’m selfish. I think of myself first. And deep down I want the world to revolve around me. God knows this. That’s why He sent Jesus to rescue us. We do need to be rescued, you know? Left to our own devices, we can get ourselves in lots of trouble. No, you might not end up in jail or on 60 Minutes shielding your face, saying, “No comment,” but you know deep down, things aren’t as fine and dandy as they might appear sometimes.

Thanks be to God that He knows this about all of us. All He’s ever wanted from me, what He continues to want from all of us, is just to be honest with Him. I’ve found it extremely painful to confess to God that “My thinking stinks right now, I’m being so short sighted, I know that if I do ‘this thing,’ I’ll be talking to you about it later, telling you I regret it and don’t want to do this. But right now, I’m lying if I say I don’t’ want to, and I’m really lying if I don’t admit to you that at this very moment while I’m agreeing with you that this isn’t the best choice, I am plotting how I can do it and there not be any consequences.”

I’ve discovered something about God. He gets us. He gets why we do the stupid things we do. He gets what we perceive the pay off to be. Good grief. He made us. Do you not think He knows what makes us tick? Still with the devil breathing down our necks, sometimes it’s easy to forget that God is really on our side. All He wants is to give us joy and to give it to us abundantly, on this side of heaven. I don’t think there’s been a day in 35 years being a Christian that I’ve ever really forgotten that. It’s just that sometimes my desire to sin trumps my desire to obey. The Apostle Paul understood this. Read Romans 7. Actually the whole book of Romans is terrific.

Anyway, sometimes the honesty and the prayer is enough to keep me on solid ground, and avoid the pitfall I’m finding myself on any given day. Sometimes, I give in. Goal is to allow God to transform my mind daily so I find myself giving in to temptation less and less. We’ll never stop being tempted, though. And it ain’t God doing the tempting, just in case you’re wondering. He tempts no one. He’s the one who tries to guide us out of the temptation.

I do know the remedy for all of this. And it’s not to repeat to myself 50 times I will not do this or think this or respond in the flesh in respect to whatever battle rages in my mind at this particular moment. That won’t work. The more we tell ourselves we can’t have something, the more we want it. Good grief, some things I don’t even want until someone says I can’t have it. You know, the old “Wet paint, don’t touch” syndrome. It wouldn’t have occurred to us to touch the fence but now that we’re told not to touch, we just gotta touch it to see if it’s really wet!

I love that God truly has a perfect perspective on all this. Sin is heavy and it has to be reckoned with. On the other hand, sometimes He just says to me, Gayle, now why on earth did you do that? (Of course, He already knows). Was it worth it? Well, it seemed like it was at the time, Lord, I say. And God says, I keep trying to tell you, Gayle, that’s the point. Sin always feels worth it at the moment. Why would it be called a temptation if it weren’t attractive? That’s a good question.

Need to keep washing my mind daily with God’s Word. Mediate on those passages that speak to my areas of weakness. That does work. Thirty five years being a Christian, I’m pleased to say I’ve had a lot of victories over sin. But I’ve discovered two things. My sins don’t seem to change. (Stick a bag of almonds in front of me today and I’ll eat the whole thing even after I’m stuffed). And just because I had victory over a sin yesterday doesn’t mean I’ve now got it “handled” and can relax. Some things ya just have to stay on top of.

Like weeding. Have you noticed? You can pull every weed in your garden, even get ‘em by the roots. Still a hard rain comes and then maybe some sunshine or maybe not, and poof, new weeds have sprouted up. Hmm. Suddenly I got some other thoughts on all this but this entry is long enough. I may save them for another day.

Blessings all and have a great weekend.

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Romans 12:2)

Six Again

Have you seen this “forward” about one man’s muse about returning to the age of six years old because he feels that life was much simpler? Funny. I don’t remember being six quite as carefree as this author does though on the surface it would appear to be so.

I remember that–

When I was six, I had to go to bed earlier than most of my friends because my mom thought I needed more sleep and I felt like a “baby.” If I was naughty on a Sunday, my punishment might just be not watching Lassie at 7:00 p.m. and nothing was worse than missing Lassie. When I was six, my first-grade teacher did not like me one bit, plus she thought I talked too much in class. While I stood talking to my little friend one day, my back turned to her, she had the audacity to pick me up and carry me back to my seat. Everybody laughed. I was humiliated.

When I was six, I forever was losing my dimes and nickels and that could buy a lot of “penny candy.” I hated church at six years old. The mass was in Latin, and I thought the nuns smelled funny. My brother put a worm in my hair when I was six years old and I screamed and was terrified to take it out. When I was six, I had short curly hair and when I rode my bike down the street sometimes I’d hear, “Is that a boy or a girl?” That stung.

When I was six, I couldn’t do some of the things my older brother got to do. And no matter how many times my mother explained it was because he was older and I’d have my chance when I got a little older, I didn’t like it and it didn’t seem fair.

Now I have happy memories of being six as well. I just don’t remember that age being as carefree as this writer does. I don’t believe there is any age that is carefree on Planet Earth. Days of fun perhaps, even seasons that may be of relatively little stress, but not carefree.

As I’ve gotten older, some trials seem to be “heavier” than they were when I was a child. Although, not receiving that shiny gold star on my homework at the time probably hurt just as much as not getting a promotion now. I’m better equipped to deal with the crises of life now. I have the benefit of a wisdom that comes with age plus I have the Holy Spirit living inside me, guiding me each day.

We mere mortals have an uncanny capacity for selective memory. We often remember things worse than they were or better than they were, but seldom as they really are. Try as we might not to, we all have our lens from which we view life. Only God Himself, I believe, can correct any distortion in my perspective.

No, I don’t want to be six again, nor any other age for that matter. Sure, I’ve experienced a few days so sweet, so fun, so pregnant with the best this world has to offer, I wouldn’t mind living them again. But life doesn’t work that way.

Reminiscing is great. I do it all the time. I love to look back and remember wonderful times I’ve experienced as a child or even as adult. Or look back at the particularly difficult times and see how God worked in the midst of them. Y’all know that “remember” is one of my favorite words in the English language. Nevertheless, when I do remember, I’m asking God more and more to give me His perspective as I evaluate my past and my present. I want to see things for what they are and not what I wish they were or fear them to be.

Do not say, “Why were the old days better than these?” For it is not wise to ask such questions. (Ecclesiastes 7:10)

Mountain Tops

I had a wonderful time at my writers’ retreat this weekend. This was our third year and every year gets even sweeter because we know each other that much better. We feel safer and are willing to be even more vulnerable than perhaps the year before. We laugh so hard, too. We’re a crazy lot and with all this history that’s forming between us, five minutes seldom pass without somebody saying something that has us all in stitches. We’ve become quite the little family and already have set the date for next year’s reunion.

So here it is Monday morning and I’m feeling a little mellow. The Lord has been gracious and my fledging little business, WordCount, seems to be taking flight. I’m sure I’ll be sharing more about this as the months go by, but here I mention it to say I have a full day of work ahead, especially since I’ve been playing for the last four. I’m a little behind.

Yet it’s hard to transition this morning. It’s hard that the weekend is over. I want it to continue. But it’s time to climb back down the mountain. I’m thankful to God for giving me these wonderful times of refreshment and fellowship to strengthen me to return to my responsibilities and all that He’s called me to.

I have a lot on my mind this morning just thinking about the weekend and about all that I have to do today. I really need to start now. In the middle of it all, though, I’m smiling as I reflect on the numerous ways God blessed us each. It wasn’t just fun. We were emboldened. And while it was writing that brought us all initially together, the weekend is far more than about writing. It’s about connecting to one another and growing in love and support for one another. The strength we gained will carry us through the whole year as we reflect back on our four days together.

Times such as this stir within me a deep longing for heaven. This weekend just reminds me of all that awaits those who love Jesus Christ. I know that this weekend was the tiniest hint of what it’s going to be like. But even that hint is enough to remind me to keep looking up. We’re not Home yet but there’ll come a time we will be. It’s going to be really great!

He who testifies to these things says, “Yes, I am coming quickly.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus. (Revelation 22:20)

Retreat Starts Tomorrow

Good Wed. morning. Val, thanks so much for your kind note.

Tomorrow afternoon my mini writer’s retreat begins. I’ve been helping with the preparations. This little writer family of ours has been talking about this weekend since last year. Really. Right afterwards, we began debriefings—what we loved, what we loved even more. Nobody hated any part of it, but we discovered there’s always a way to make the retreat better than the last.

Like our first night together. Traditionally, we’ve all met for dinner at a local restaurant. That’s been fun but even if we’re seated at the same table, it’s impossible to hear all the conversations because there’s too many of us. We’re a relational lot, and so this year we decided to scrap the restaurant and hang together at the home of our gracious host, where our yearly event is held.

I already know this first night will be a highlight. This is a very fun group of ladies and I know from the moment we gather, we’ll be laughing our heads off. We’ll cry some, too, probably because we’re all a tender lot. Sitting around the barbecue table outside, we’ll be able to see each other face to face, each one receiving our undivided attention while she shares about her life over the last year. We regularly keep in contact through email so we’re not clueless about what’s been going on in the major areas. Unless, of course, there are those who experienced something particularly difficult that they felt uncomfortable sharing through an email. Actually, wouldn’t that be true of most of us from time to time?

But it will be a night of remembering and y’all know how I love that word. We’ll be thanking God for those who have enjoyed publishing success, some for the first time. We’ll be thanking God for bringing us through the year through various trials, health, finances, and just the stuff of life that can wear us down.

We’ll talk about our current struggles and challenges. Some may be writing-related, others may be not. For while it is writing that brought this little section of the Body of Christ together, it is Christ who ultimately holds us together. And we all know, whatever is going on in our lives personally will affect what we write—on some level—whether suspense or sweet romance or anything in between.

Then we’ll pray for each other. That’s gonna be sweet!

For all my excitement, though, I suddenly got a little scared. What are you scared of? I asked myself. I asked God. Surprisingly, it took me no time to figure it out.

In some ways, I’m disappointed because I had a couple of goals that I thought I would have met by now. One I could have achieved if I’d been more self controlled—like lose the weight I planned on. I have all these cute pair of shorts that I could have worn, and I wouldn’t have had to lose that much to be able to wear them. But alas, I didn’t lose that weight so I’m not wearing those cute shorts. There’s a couple of other things to. You know. Just stuff.

I don’t know about you, but for me, maybe because God knows how my brain works, He pays really close attention to when I turn this corner and start thinking about the ways I didn’t change since last year. A bit of self examination is always good for the soul and a reunion has a way of stirring that. But God in His incredible graciousness said, okay, you’re right. So, you fell short in this way and those other ways you’re thinking about. Today’s a new day. You can purpose in your heart—again—to make changes in these areas. But I have a couple more important questions to ask you:

Do you love Me more than you did this time last year? Do you love people more than you did last year? Do you care more about what’s important to Me than you did last year.

I do, Lord, I answered. And I want to love you more. I want to love people more. I want to care way more about things you care about.

Then from my perspective, Gayle—the eternal one, the one that counts—you’ve met my goal. Just keep your eyes on Me and you’ll be just fine.

So I’m encouraged. God’s good at that, you know. He loves to remind me of the good work He’s already done in me. He’s done mighty good things in my life this year. I have a million reasons to be grateful to Him. And I am. It’s just that the devil tries to get us to focus on where we’re lacking, making us feel bad about it. But God says, admit your lack, turn to Me, and I will fill it.

Funny, how a reunion among dear friends could stir all that in my heart, and that’s not even the half of it. I’m grateful that the Lord exposed this potential joy buster right at the start. God is the best at damage control when I let Him. Now my heart is filled simply with the delightful anticipation of seeing all my buddies tomorrow and hearing about what God has done in their lives. So much strength comes from being together.

I will have no time to post Friday morning, so I will see you back on Monday. Probably a little tired but a heart filled to the brim with the joy and fellowship of being with my friends.Have a great weekend! I love this verse for the future “hope” has turned into tomorrow’s reality for us all:

I have much to write you, but I do not want to do so with pen and ink. Instead, I hope to visit you and talk with you face to face, so that our joy may be complete. (2 John 13)

Who's Driving?

Gloriously sunny day here in Northern Idaho. It’s going to be a busy week for me. Working here in my office through Wednesday and then Thursday, I join several writing buddies here in town for our annual four-day brainstorming retreat. These gals have become so dear and besides brainstorming novel plots, we laugh till our stomachs hurt, or maybe that’s from eating too much good food. It’s going to be a blast and I can’t wait.

I’m reading Anne Lamott’s delightful book Operating Instructions: A journal of My Son’s First Year.” Anne writes with such raw transparency and humor about her life as a new single mom and the range of emotions she’s experiencing raising her son alone. I admire that.

On Day 30, she shares a powerful entry about the innate struggle she has (by extension, we all have, I say) to relinquish to God complete control over our lives. Even if we haven’t done such a hot job, our human nature still resists not controlling it ourselves. Anne then relays the following story. I’ve heard numerous analogies and metaphors about God being in control, but the simplicity of this one is unparalleled for me:

“I heard this old man speak when I was pregnant, someone who had been sober for fifty years, a very prominent doctor. He said that he’d finally figured out a few years ago that his profound sense of control, in the world and over his life, is another addiction and a total illusion. He said that when he sees little kids sitting in the backseat of cars, in those car seats that have steering wheels, with grim expressions of concentration on their faces, clearly convinced that their efforts are causing the car to do whatever it is doing, he thinks of himself and his relationship with God: God who drives along silently, gently amused, in the driver’s seat.”(1)

I love that. Have a great week everybody.

Cease striving and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10, NAS)

(1) Anne Lamott, Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son’s First Year. Ballantine Books 1993.

My Grandma Taught Me

Friday already again! Weeks fly by so fast. Seems like only a few hours ago I was bidding you a good Monday.

I just finished reading Psalm 119. I love this psalm and for years have considered it my favorite. What gets me every time about this psalm is that the author keeps saying the reason why he loves God’s word so much and why he’s so eager and diligent to obey is because God has so thoroughly persuaded him that this is the smartest thing to do. This is how to experience fullness of life.

With this psalm fresh on my mind, I could pick any number of passages and just start writing about why it means so much. But I think I’ll just share my favorite of all:

I have not departed from your laws for you yourself have taught me. (Psalm 119:102, NIV).

I love this because it’s so personal. God Himself teaches me. He doesn’t just hand me a book (the Bible). Rather, as I read and meditate on it, applying its truths to my life by His Spirit, I grow in maturity.

This passage has always reminded me of a particularly wonderful memory of me and my grandma that I believe illustrates this passage well.

***

At ten years old, having watched my grandma knit slippers for me and my siblings so many times I decided I wanted to learn to make my own.

“Grandma, will you teach me to knit?” I asked one weekend when we’d come to visit. Delighted to show me, she immediately stood up and sauntered toward her bedroom. She pulled from the overhead shelf a big bag of yarn and knitting needles. She studied several pairs and then selected one along with a ball of yarn perfect for practicing. (I still have those needles!)

“Come sit next to me, Gayle, patting the couch. You need to sit close so you can watch me.” I eagerly snuggled up to Grandma on the couch, barely giving her enough elbow room to maneuver the needles. I was so excited Grandma wanted to teach me to knit. Soon I’d be able to make my own slippers! I watched intently as Grandma first showed me how to cast on. Before long, she handled the needles to me. “You try now.” I’ll be right here to help as you need it.

Boy did I need it!

Often as I was learning to knit whole rows, I’d glance up and say, “Grandma, this looks funny.” “Let me see,” she’d say. I’d hand my needles and yarn to her and she would patiently begin unraveling my stitches one by one until she found my error. She’d correct it, explaining where I had made my mistake. Then she’d hand my piece back to me and I’d continue. “It takes practice, Gayle,” Grandma would say. “Be patient. You’re doing great.” With continued practice my rows became more even. Eventually when I made mistakes, I was able to correct them myself. Then Grandma taught me to crochet.

* * *

Draped over my couch and loveseat in my living room are two afghans I crocheted years ago. Sometimes guests will ask how I learned to crochet. I always smile and say, “My Grandma taught me when I was a little girl. That’s the way I’ve come to view God’s instructing me through life. Just that personal.

Have a great weekend all!

Constraint

Good Wednesday morning,

There are a handful of people in my life right now whom I find quite annoying. I’m also annoyed by these two yappy little dogs next door that bark every time another dog goes by. In each of these circumstances, I have good reason. The people who are bugging me have done some things that are verifiably irritating. And as for the dogs, I’m sure I’m not the only neighbor who wishes these yappy little dogs would get laryngitis. Can dogs even get laryngitis? Now that’s wishful thinking.

By last night, to those who live out of state and our communications are through e-mail only, I felt like telling them to just be quiet. Yet, the Lord made it really clear that I was not to do any such thing but to just ignore them. After all, they’re not hurting you, He said. They’re just bugging you. Read (take a chill pill, Gayle).

God allows this to happen quite often. He brings difficult people into our lives to sand down the rough edges in our personality. Oh yes, I would like to think that I am such a wonderfully sweet, reasonable person that nobody could possibly perceive me as difficult. However, after living on this planet for five decades, I imagine this is not true.

Funny, just now thought of my second grade teacher, Mrs. Snow, came into my mind. I was such a chatter box in class, my teacher decided (or maybe my mom decided, I forget), that the best remedy was that she write a note home each day to my mother informing her whether I’d been good. I wonder just how many evenings when Mrs. Snow recounted her day to her husband she threw up her hands and said, “Well, that Gayle. She’s really a sweet girl, always smiling, but she can’t sit still and she’s always talking in class. By the end of the day, she’s given me a headache.” Maybe Mrs. Snow thought I was difficult.

Anyway, you get my point.

Now about the dogs. Last night, for just a moment, I thought, how would I handle this situation if I gave no thought to consequences, no thought to the owner’s feelings, and no thought to how I was perceived by my neighbors?

That was easy.

I’d have thrown open the screen door on my balcony and screamed from the top of my lungs--using expletives that would have gotten my mouth washed out with an entire bar of soap by my mother growing up—and told the dogs to SHUT UP. Of course, they wouldn’t have known I was yelling at them. The owner would know I was really yelling at her in essence. And that would have been a very cowardly way of handling the whole situation.

I didn’t do this, aren’t you glad to know?

The Lord and I talked a bit more about the dogs this morning. And my pesky momentary nemeses. As far as the people, well, I’ve been good from the start to keep my feelings in check. Just need to keep guarding my tongue and keep my paws off the old keyboard.

And speaking of paws, the Lord said, “You don’t like your neighbor at all because of her dogs. You don’t even want to try to get to know her. You don’t like her dogs so you don’t like her.” Yikes, He had that right. God has no problem being blunt sometimes.. In all fairness to her, these are not evil dogs and they don’t bark incessantly. That really would put me over the edge since I work from my home. No, it’s mainly in the evening. Maybe they’re just tired because it’s late.

So what am I going to do about this stinky attitude of mine? Well, I already confessed it. Now I’m thinking it’s time to go over and introduce myself to my neighbor. I should have done that a month ago.

Seems to me that most of what’s involved in walking out my life as a Christian in a way that honors God and shows His love and grace to those around me is wrapped up in these every day, moment-by-moment situations. That bugs me, too, but it makes sense this is the way God would do it. Have to depend on Him more this way. The good thing is that with so many opportunities to be a good witness for Christ, even when I mess up a few in the course of a day, there’s always another one right around the corner to do the right thing.

No averages here, mind you. No earning points. No at-the-end-of-the-day tallies to report back to God about how I did. No notes home to my mother. Life from God’s perspective just doesn’t work that way. I’ll never be good enough and I’ll never do all the right things on any given day. Neither will you. Even the thought is ludicrous.

Every day, I need God’s grace and I need His mercy—with people and with dogs. Lots of other stuff, too. But what I can do this morning is this: I can resolve to be a little kinder today than I was yesterday.

Maybe I should buy the doggies a bone. And as far as the folks bugging me, I’ve started praying for them. Harder to be mad at someone when you’re praying for them, you know?

Have a great day.

Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing. (Proverbs 12:18)

A Gentle Answer

Good Monday morning!

This weekend I made another investment into my new business, WordCount. I purchased Microsoft’s FrontPage, a web design software. On Friday night I confidently walked into the office supply to purchase my upgrade. Though MS Professional Office Suite didn’t include FrontPage, it was the most comprehensive version, so I was under the impression from the earlier reading that it wasn’t required in this case to purchase the upgrade only.

Still, I read the back of the box again just to make sure. Yep, I had a prior version of a Microsoft Suite so I wouldn’t need to buy the full version. The clerk seemed a little concerned that I was so confident about the upgrade. Are you sure all you need is the upgrade? You can’t return opened software. Yes, I’m sure, I said. Well, okay, then and she rung up my purchase.

About an hour later, I called another office supply store and asked how much they charged for the FrontPage upgrade. Just seemed after I’d left that first store, I remembered seeing at another for about $30 less. The man returns with a price check. I was right. So, I decide to return it the next day to the one store, and purchase it at the other. Thank you, Lord. So grateful I hadn’t opened the box.

But before I’d hung up, the clerk says to me, are you sure you want the upgrade only? Same hesitation as the gal in the other store. Yes, I’m very sure, and then I explain why it is I’m so sure. He challenges a bit, but I say thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow.

The next day, I head out to the second store to purchase my FrontPage upgrade. The clerk comes up to me and asks if I’m finding everything all right. Yes, thank you. Just need to get the FrontPage upgrade. He asks me if I have a prior version of FrontPage on my computer. No, I say, but that’s okay because I have the MS Professional Suite and that’s sufficient criteria for buying the upgrade. I don’t need the full version. He challenges. I state my reason once again.

But, Ma’am, if you discover you’ve bought the wrong one after you’ve broken the seal on the box, you can’t return it. Yes, I understand this. But as I've said, I know I only need the upgrade. Again, I repeat my reason.

Are you the one who called last night? he asks.

Again, he expresses his concern and again I try to tell him he has no reason to be concerned. He points to the criteria on the box, and I said, yes, see, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I meet this criteria!

But look, there’s more, he says, and he reads the next line.

Realization! The young clerk is absolutely right! I am wrong. I do need the full version! Talk about fine print. Yikes!

That’s why he was so persistent. Didn’t matter how many times I explained to him why I was right, he knew I was wrong. So here I’ve put this kid, maybe 21, in the position of not wanting to argue with the customer, trying to be respectful to me. Yet he knew full well I was about to walk out of the store with this upgrade and would soon be kicking myself for spending all this money for a product that wouldn’t do me a bit of good but now I couldn’t return.

Thank you so much, I say again. I tell him I’m not normally a stubborn person, I'm really not. I was just so sure you were wrong, I say. That’s okay, he says. I just didn’t want you to take it home and then realize you couldn’t use it.

Nice kid.

Told him I so appreciated him standing up to me so respectfully, knowing I thought he was wrong. That’s a tricky thing to do. Can’t remember how I put it exactly, but he understood my point. He saved me a lot of money. Well, I ended up spending twice as much because I did need the full version, but I would have spent even more than that had he not persisted.

I was still thinking about this when another incident happened yesterday. Through a particular e-mail exchange on a public forum, I witnessed someone handle a situation poorly. This individual’s comments should have been made privately but he chose to make them publicly. His careless words caused significant discomfort and sadness for many on this forum for several hours following.

Though entirely different situations, these two examples reminded me of a critical component of graceful, artful communication: When I’m tempted to speak and I know my words could potentially cause conflict, what’s my motivation in doing so? If I genuinely have the other person’s well being in mind, then I must be willing to endure the uneasiness that may follow—just as the store clerk did with me.

Conversely, if I’m just speaking my mind to make me feel better—to get something off my chest—this is not acceptable. As a Christian, I simply do not have the luxury to spout off whatever I want at will. I do believe that honestly is the best policy. And yet our goal in being honest should be to strengthen our relationships with others. If our “honesty” only creates havoc with no redemptive purpose in mind, then we best just keep out mouths shut, me thinks.

Have a great Monday all!

A gentle answer turns away wrath,
But a harsh word stirs up anger.
The tongue of the wise makes knowledge acceptable,
But the mouth of fools spouts folly …
A soothing tongue is a tree of life,
But perversion in it crushes the spirit. (Proverbs 15:1,2, 4 NAS)

Just Ignore Him

Happy Friday. Weekend’s here.

Yet as I write, there’s a big part of me that’s not happy at all but extremely sad as I reflect on the deadly terrorist attacks in London yesterday and the families that are left devastated today in the wake of such cold blooded murder. My heart goes out to the families, as I know yours does, too, who lost someone yesterday they love, or to those who were injured. I was moved by the fact that so many of our world leaders stood together and called yesterday’s terrorist attack for what it is—evil.

And who’s ultimately behind this evil? Satan himself. Oh, those who were responsible, who continue to be responsible, will be held accountable. If not in this life than in the one to come. Make no mistake. We must—I must—be vigilant in praying for our country and for all those through the world who stand for freedom and for righteousness, especially our brothers and sisters in Christ. This was already top of mind for me celebrating the 4th of July last week and now the vacancy on the Supreme Court with Sandra Day O’Conner’s resignation.

Grave times. But exciting times, too. I see evidence of God working all over the world.

I have an older brother, by a year and a half. Jeff has grown into a very nice man and I love him dearly. But when we were kids, he was a little snot. He loved to tease me incessantly. I suppose like most brothers do.

I could be enjoying a perfectly nice day playing by myself, and Jeff would come up to me and take my doll away, or muss my hair, or hit me; not hard enough to hurt me but just enough to infuriate me. I’d chase after him. He’d giggle, I’d whine, and soon I was rolling on the floor with him, trying to beat him up. He was strong, I was not, and so I always lost. I would cry, he would laugh, and soon my mother would send us both to our rooms.

“If you just ignore him, Gayle, he’d leave you alone,” my mom and dad would tell me. And I really did understand this in principle. But for the life of me, I just couldn’t seem to do this. Every single time, I walked into Jeff’s trap and he would get the reaction he wanted.

Satan knows how to get to me too. He hounds me, harasses me, teases me, and shames me. He tries to set me off balance by stirring up fears and insecurities. Unlike my brother, whose job description as an older brother is to be a pest and not really hurt me, Satan is out to destroy me. Since I’ve placed my trust in Jesus Christ, he can’t do that and he knows he can’t. But he certainly can make my life miserable if I’ll let him. He’ll strive to destroy my testimony and rip to shred any sense of peace, joy, and well being. As a result, now I can’t think about others. I can’t think about what God has called me to do. I’m too upset for that. Now I can think only about me.

Is the answer to ignore Satan and hope that he’ll get bored with me and move on to something else? Absolutely not! None of us can afford to ignore Satan. But we can’t fight him either. Not in our own strength. He's too strong for us. But through Christ, we can and must be vigilant to stand against him through the power of prayer and the Word of God. (Ephesians 6:10-17).

Today I have new resolve. The devil is not going to beat me. I will not ignore him but I will not focus on him, either. I will keep my eyes firmly focused on Jesus Christ. For God is my refuge and strength, an ever present help in trouble. In Him is always the assurance of victory and I plan on being victorious today. How about you?

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings. (1 Peter 5:6-9 NIV)

Keeping a Quiet Heart

Hope y’all have a great 4th. I did.

My heart is not proud, O LORD,
my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.
But I have stilled and quieted my soul;
like a weaned child with its mother,
like a weaned child is my soul within me.
O Israel [oh Gayle], put your hope in the LORD
both now and forevermore.
(Psalm 131 NIV)

As I read this, I wonder. How do I still and quiet my soul? How can I know my heart is quiet? King David wrote this psalm. It’s not like the guy didn’t have anything going on in his life. He was responsible for the welfare of a nation. He did so concern himself with great matters…daily. Didn’t he?

What I believe David was saying is that he didn’t concern himself with matters that were out of his control. He couldn’t be spending his energy trying to figure out things that were just too big for him. Just as an infant trusts its mother to take care of him, God wanted him—and He wants me—to completely rely on Him daily to take care of me and meet all my needs—spiritual, physical, emotional.

Long ago I established a habit in my life to spend the first moments of my day in prayer and Bible reading. It’s not a “rule.” It’s spiritual breakfast. I’m not going to die of starvation if I skip breakfast. Nor will my relationship with God automatically turn sour and I’m guaranteed to have a rotten day if I don’t do this. Rather, just as a nutritious breakfast gives me fuel to begin my day, so does reading my Bible and prayer with my heavenly Father give me the spiritual nourishment, a right perspective, about the day ahead.

Sometimes my heart starts out quiet. Maybe because I had an extra good night sleep or had a wonderful time of fellowship with a friend the night before. Maybe things are good and my heart is light. Conversely, life might be extra hard and I’m so desperate for God’s help that I just wake up already poised for a rich time with Him. Almost like He must have been talking to me all night in my sleep so when my “quiet time” begins, I’m just continuing the conversation I’ve already been having with Him all night.

On those mornings, seems from the moment I awaken and sip my first cup of coffee, I’m ushered into the throne room of God’s grace. I’m focused on the Lord and everything I read makes sense. My heart is so quiet I can hear the refrigerator buzz.

It’s not always like this, though. Sometimes as soon as I sit down, I jump back up again it seems. I decide to check my e-mail. Then I suddenly have a hankerin’ to browse through yesterday’s junk mail I forgot to open. Should I keep the pizza coupons? Do I recognize the child on the Advco ad? Do I need to pay that bill today? Before I know it, I’ve opened my Quicken program and am reviewing my checking account.

I did not set my alarm for 5:00 a.m. to sort through coupons!

So, I sit back down on my couch—after I’ve poured that second cup of coffee. After all, I rose early to give my Lord my freshest hour of the day. Though I may be distracted and He may seem far away, I know the truth. God is with me and He delights being with me. I’ll never get that, but I know it’s true.

Even if I’m reading a portion of Scripture that doesn’t minister to me emotionally, I know it’s ministering to my soul. About 20 years ago, I was reading my Bible in a coffee shop when I ran into my pastor and dear friend in Seattle, Wayne Taylor. I told him I’d just read an Old Testament passage that I didn’t understand. Said it did nothing for me emotionally and yet I felt better for having read it anyway! Wayne told me that’s because God’s Word always ministers to our spirit even if it doesn’t minister to us emotionally. I've always remembered that! This doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t study to gain understanding in those difficult passages. It just means that even when I don’t get what I’m reading, God’s Word is still working. It’s never a waste of time to read the Bible.

Interesting. David said he quieted his own soul. Yet it happens as he focused on God. Any choice I make to draw closer to Christ is aroused by His wooing me with His love. In the deepest part of me, I know that no matter what I’m feeling, especially in turbulent times, the way to get and keep a quiet and peaceful heart is to spend time with the One who knows and loves me so much!

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:4-6)

Happy Birthday America

Blessings on this wonderful day of celebration. Soon I’ll be off to enjoy a barbecue with dear friends about 1-1/2 hours away. There had been talk of rain earlier last week but the sun is shining now. It’s going to be a beautiful day.

Yesterday at church as part of our worship we sang patriotic hymns. America, God Bless America, America the Beautiful. While I’ve sung these songs since my youth, for years I hadn’t paid close attention to the words. Usually we'd only sing the first verse or two. I didn't realize the deep spiritual and Scriptural basic of these songs. Yesterday I sang them with more passion that I’d ever sung before. These songs are prayers. They speak of gratitude and honoring God for our nation. Our heritage. We can help standing a little straighter when we sing the words. At least I couldn't. I felt humbled. Proud. The very words themselves remind me that this country was built on a foundation that acknowledged the Lord God as our creator.

When I was a kid, I understood our freedom to a certain degree, at least intellectually. But I didn’t really get it. I didn’t see how people lived throughout the world. All I ever heard was “Finish your dinner. Think of the starving people in Africa.” I had no idea that our blessings extended far beyond the rich physical resources we enjoy. There may be those reading my blog who were not born in this country. I was. I didn’t deserve to be but here I am. How I thank God for that.

For me, the 4th of July for too many years was more about food and fireworks—a day off from work—than thanking God for the freedoms I enjoy. Maybe it’s because I’m older now, maybe because we’re at war. Part of it to be sure is because I see our country’s freedoms slipping away. What’s with all the fighting about the Ten Commandments being posted in public places? How is it that we’ve strayed so far from Truth, that we think we’re gaining freedom all the while, we’re losing it? We’ve gotten this whole "Separation of Church and State” issue so turned around we seem to think that our highest goal is to have not a freedom of religion but freedom from religion. Our forefathers could not have dreamed that we would twist our Constitution in such a way.

The fool says in his heart, "There is no God." (Psalm 53:1)

God has been reminding me lately that freedom is so precious it cannot be fought for just once. We need to keep fighting for it. It doesn’t just happen. Righteousness never just happens—not for a nation nor for an individual. If we want to act rightly, we need to purpose in our hearts to do so. And this can never happen on our own. It happens only as we receive the righteousness of Jesus Christ. We just don’t have it in ourselves.

Yet the wonderful thing about God is that with each day is a fresh start. And actually, fresh starts happen by the second if we choose to look to God. He wants to continue to bless the United States of America but He expects something from us, too. He expects us to acknowledge Him as the Creator of this incredible country. He requires a heart of gratitude. Does He not deserve this? Absolutely He does!

And isn’t our birthday the perfect day to start? I think so. Reflection should accompany our celebration. As I enjoy the fun and fellowship of this day, I want to remember our soldiers serving throughout the world and especially Iraq. I want to remember the families who are experiencing their first 4th of July without their loved ones because he/she died this year in battle. In short, I want to be mindful of why we are celebrating. Cultivate in me a grateful heart, Father, I pray.

Can somberness and joyfulness and a light-hearted attitude co-exist? Of course, it can!

Have a terrific day. And don’t forget the sunscreen!

"Thus may the 4th of July, that glorious and ever memorable day, be celebrated through America, by the sons of freedom, from age to age till time shall be no more. Amen and Amen." (the Virginia Gazette on July 18th, 1777)

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding. (Proverbs 10:10)

Testimony

Happy Friday and a wonderful Fourth of July holiday to you!

Since I seem to be on a theme this week regarding athletics and exercise, I thought I’d share one more recent observation.

Each morning while sipping my coffee and reading my Bible, I love to glance out my window. By nature, I’m such a people watcher. When most of my neighbors glance out their windows, all they see is the adjacent apartment building. But not I. God in His tremendous graciousness chose my particular apartment because He knew how much it would bless me. I glance out at a sub division with a beautiful neighborhood park. Walking paths weave through the streets.

So as I read each morning, I peer out my window. A bit like Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window except I don’t need any binoculars. Even as early as 5:00, I see some people walking alone or with friends, others jogging. Still others cycling. I don’t know any of these people, know nothing about them. Except for one thing: they obviously make exercise a priority.

Their discipline encourages me. I know later in the day, I, too, will walk or go for a bike ride, but there’s something to be said about doing it first thing, if time allows. And for me, it would allow, if I were just a bit more organized. Like maybe writing this blog a day early instead of an hour before my goal of posting by 9 am each morning.

But here’s my point. These folks walking and jogging and cycling don’t have a clue I’m watching them. They’re not exercising for my benefit but for theirs. Obviously. They have no idea that I am encouraged and emboldened by their daily routine.

For those Christians who take their relationship with Christ seriously, they—I—want to be a good testimony to who Christ is. Though I flounder and fall short terribly sometimes in my example, my hope is that overall, when folks look at my life, they see Christ. I want to be a witness to who He is.

But the thing is, I think sometimes we can make this more complicated than it is. Yes, we want to take the opportunity to share Christ with those who don’t know Him as the opportunity arises. But most often, at least for me, this isn’t exactly the focus of my days. My focus is simply to keep my eyes on Christ—to follow Him the best I can.

I have a feeling when I simply do this, Christ is glorified. Doesn’t mean I’ll know it, any more than the early exercisers are aware that I am watching, but nevertheless, I am and am blessed by their diligence.

Just seems God’s fingerprints on Planet Earth are everywhere. When I want to find Him, I just don’t have to look far. There are times, where He appears quiet and distant in our own life for sure. But if we really want to see evidence of Him somewhere, we don’t have to look far. That comforts me.

Have a great weekend, everybody!

Great is the LORD and most worthy of praise; his greatness no one can fathom.

(Psalm 145:3 NIV)

The Race

Mid week. Gray here. Supposed to warm up to 78. Good. It’s summer after all. Been cold this week.

Monday I shared a little about the Coeur d’ Alene Ironman triathlon. Reminded me of my one official day of being an athlete! Thought I’d share—

My parents hugged me and my siblings patted me on the back. “Good luck, Gayle,” they said, then left to take their seats up in the bleachers. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful Saturday morning for my first and only track meet I would run in junior high. I diligently performed my warm up exercises, eagerly waiting for my race to be called—the 660. For weeks I had trained after school for this one race. Besides my family, many of my classmates were in attendance. I was proud to sport my red and gold school colors. I already had the red shorts, but my mom bought a package of Ritz Dye and dyed my T-shirt gold so it would look official.

My coach, a college sophomore, was so handsome and had been extremely supportive of me right from the start. With the race soon to begin, Brian now placed his arm firmly around my shoulder. He talked to me about good sportsmanship and doing my best and having fun. His final instruction was the same as he had given to me each day in practice: “Pace yourself, Gayle, this is a long race.”

“I will,” I nodded.

“Don’t forget,” Brian said again.

No way would I forget after hearing this every single day of practice for weeks. My race was then announced and so with those parting words, I quickly withdrew to the track, assuming my lane position among the other seventh grade girls.

The shot was fired and we were off. With unbridled enthusiasm, I bolted as if running the 50-yard dash. I instantly took the lead and ran even faster! But after about 150 yards, my pace slowed considerably. I’d spent all my energy in the first few seconds of the race.

My opponents began passing me one by one. With a third of the race still to run, the other girls started crossing the finish line. One gal had run close behind me but just quit and retreated from the track. I felt humiliated, totally stupid, and wanted to quit. I wanted to run and hide, not run around this track. But my pride and self respect demanded that I finish. I jogged the rest of the distance and finally crossed the finish line . . . alone and in last place.

On Monday morning in Home Room, one of the boys came up to me. “It’s too bad you lost, Gayle, you sure started out great!” I just shrugged my shoulders and said, “Thanks.”

But had I really started out great? No, not at all! This was a distance race, a race of endurance—not a sprint. I wasn’t a fast runner and I hadn’t expected to win. What I upset me was that in my adrenaline rush I had forgotten the most important thing Brian had taught me, the very thing I was just so positive I would not forget.

Pace yourself.

Running circles around the back field of my junior high play ground had been necessary practice. Still, it could not prepare me for the pressure and excitement of an official track meet with friends and family watching. Brian knew this. That’s why he reminded me over and over of the one thing he suspected I would forget.

Similarly, it’s possible to allow our zeal in serving Christ cause us to forget His instruction in the everyday experiences of life. Some circumstances may become so familiar that when the Lord “puts His arm around our shoulder” and gives us last minute counsel concerning a matter, we may dismiss Him saying, “I know, I know.” Yet if the God of the Universe thinks we need to be reminded of something, we best listen to Him as intently as if He had never told it to us before.

The Holy Spirit is our “coach” and He’s cheering us on. He wants us to finish life well and is always close by, shouting out pearls of wisdom from the sideline. We forget so easily, though, and must constantly ask Him to remind us of His precepts. Otherwise in the midst of the race, we may find ourselves lagging far behind—long before the task in which He’s called us to is completed.

“I think the one lesson I have learned is that there is no substitute for paying attention.” —Diane Sawyer

Listen to my instruction and be wise; do not ignore it. (Proverbs 8:33)

Coeur d' Alene's Ironman

Did y’all have a good weekend?

Coeur d’ Alene hosted the Ironman triathlon yesterday. I decided not to enter this year. Or last. Truth is, I never will enter it. I can’t even comprehend swimming 2.4 miles, then jumping out of the water to hop onto your bike to cycle 112 miles and then, when most folks would be flat out dead, run a full marathon of 26.2 miles. Ironman (woman) is right! Unbelievable!

1,760 triathletes from around the world competed right here in my own backyard. Winners’ times were 8:23:29 (men) and 9:59:08 (women). In honor of them, so I could call myself an athlete, too, I rode my bike about 11 miles yesterday afternoon. Now that was a nice bit of exercise. Felt great. For the Ironman athletes, however, that would be like a stroll from the kitchen to the living room! I do plan on riding much farther than that most rides this summer.

I can’t even comprehend such strength, endurance and perseverance such a competition requires. If they are willing to make the necessary monumental daily sacrifices to train as they do for a prize that is only temporary and of no eternal value (though something certainly to be proud of), how much more should I, as a Christian, run my spiritual race with endurance? My prize is the crown of life. Heaven. Spending eternity with Christ Himself!

What I love about God, though, is He’s not asking me to do this in my own strength. Knows I can’t. Nobody can win this metaphorical race without the wind of the Holy Spirit at our backs. God through Christ gives me the strength to run the race set for me each day. My race is not the same as yours. We’re each on a different course. My goal is not to beat your time. Or accomplish what you accomplish. I am to be obedient to what God has called me to do. Scripture tells me that I am God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for me to do. That is so cool to me. Gives me purpose. Gives me a reason to run.

Today’s the beginning of a new week. An opportunity to trust God in a new and deeper way. A fresh start. I want to run my course with endurance. Walk in God’s grace. Breathe it in moment by moment.

It’s raining outside. How gracious of God to give the triathletes a beautiful day yesterday to compete. Today it would have been more difficult.

Have a good day all.

For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time has come for my departure. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing. (2 Timothy 4:6-8)

All Supplies Included

Almost the weekend. Think I’ll do a little cycling. It’s been light past 9 p.m. I’m growing accustomed to taking nice walks just as the sun begins to set. I love summer. Terri and Allison, thanks so much for leaving your comments. I love knowing that I’m not alone out in cyberspace here. And my sweet friend, Patsy. Thanks so much for your private note. So great to hear from you.

As a kid, I enjoyed painting Paint-By-Numbers, although I generally didn’t do anything with them once I finished. Just thought painting them was about as close to being an artist that I’d ever get. My dad once painted a set of Mary and Joseph, and gave the framed set to his parents one Christmas. That same year, I think, I decided to paint one for my other grandma (my mom’s mom) of this winter scene. She hung it in her bedroom for years. I didn’t think it turned out that great but you know grandmas. And mine was the best. If her granddaughter decided to paint her a picture, far as she was concerned, it was worthy of a place of prominence.

My favorite part of painting was the first hour. I’d slip the white crisp canvas from the box and study it. Which color should I start with first? I’d stare back at the canvas and make my decision. Immediately I’d grow anxious. There just can’t be enough paint in those little tubs to paint all those parts, I’d tell my dad. I’m going to run out for sure. I just know it.

There’s enough paint, Gayle, he’d say.

Now there was one way I could run out and this happened more than once. I’d become too eager and continue painting after I should have stopped to allow the canvas to dry. Then I’d accidentally rest the side of my palm on the canvas and instantly smear what I’d just painted.
Drat. That’s why my dad would always remind me to begin in the center of the canvas. Then the risk of inadvertently resting my hand on wet paint was minimized—at least in theory.

Now I’d have to paint this part over. Surely, I won’t have enough paint now. I’d start to try and fix it right then. My parents would step in and say, “Put it away now.” They’d recognize my frustration escalating and knew if I continued then, surely I’d ruin the thing entirely. Better to start fresh the next day. Just so hard to leave a project when it’s looking its worst, I think.

I’m no Rembrandt so I really wasn’t striving for perfection when I painted these pictures. Still, I thought it a reasonable goal that my painting would resemble the cover on the box. Usually they turned out okay, though never as good as I wanted them to. With the one I painted for my grandma, I did in fact run out of the brown paint when I came to this one last branch. I’d messed up pretty bad. So, instead of a light dusting of snow on top, I had to paint the entire branch white. It looked funny and bugged me every time I visited her. But I tried to remember I was only around 12 or so. What should I expect? I’m glad she hung it. My grandma always made me feel treasured.

In Peter’s second epistle, he writes:

Grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord, as His divine power has given to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him who called us by glory and virtue, by which have been given to us exceedingly great and precious promises, that through these you may be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust. (2 Peter 1:3,4)

The manufacturer of the paint by numbers supplied just enough paint barring any catastrophes. So unlike God. Through Jesus Christ, God’s grace flows abundantly and He so willingly and joyfully supplies us with all we need for every area of my life.

Not a day goes by that I don’t “feel” like my “tub of paint will run out.” Sometimes I look at my resources and I think it “has run out.” Just like when I tried to paint the brown branch and had to improvise with white because no brown was left. I did run out.

As a Christian, God wants me thinking about His supply, though, not mine. He doesn’t even want me to rely on my tub of paint. He knows it’s pitifully small and the colors are dull. Won’t find much kindness, patience, love, good will in my tub of paint. Ah, but when I use His paints—His resources—there is ample.

When I am weak, He is strong.

“Grace and peace be multiplied to you.” Now I like the sound of that. God doesn’t just give me a little of His grace and peace. He multiplies it! Everything I need to live this day in a matter that will be God honouring and filled with peace and joy and gratitude are found in Him. And this has nothing to do with circumstances. It’s what’s happening on the inside of my heart that I’m talking about here. Not the outside.

Okay, I think I’ve stumbled on to an analogy with this paint by number thing that I could play around with all day. Suddenly so many Bible stories and verses come to mind. But I must get to work so I’m stopping here.

Take good care everybody and see you back on Monday.

Heritage

How y’all doing out there?

Several years ago, I received an email from my father’s cousin, my second cousin. He’d been researching extensively the DeSalles Family genealogy and.wrote to tell me:

“I am the 37th great granddaughter of Charlemagne (Charles I), King of France, born April 2, 742, and succeeded his father in 768. On Christmas day 800 he was proclaimed emperor of the Romans and the successor of Caesar Augustus and Constantine by Pope Leo III. He died January 28, 814. Between my 24th great grandfather Sancho I, King of Portugal, and Charlemagne, I have 12 more great grandfathers who were kings. I can now claim that I’m a descendent from royalty.”

This sounded impressive and I got excited. But at the time I received this I was studying 1 Samuel, and the lives of Saul and David. Suddenly I was curious. Was Charles, King of France a good king or a wicked king? I know now he was in fact a very good king but at the time I decided I’d better not boast about my heritage until I learn whether he was a reputable king or not.

And this got me thinking. I like the feeling of being related to “royalty.” Something so, well, regal, about tracing my heritage back to a king, and all the way back to 768. Somehow, it just made me day. Ah, but then this verse came to mind.

“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.” (1 Peter 2:9-10)

Now this is a heritage I will boast in. And I thought it was cool to discover that I was related to a bonafide king. Fact is, though, absolutely nothing compares with the extraordinary privilege and honor—not to mention the actual revelation itself—of knowing that while I did absolutely nothing to make this happen, I have been adopted into the family of God through Jesus Christ. Thank you, Jesus.

It’s by reading and studying through the Old Testament that I am able to begin to understand New Testament concepts better such as “chosen people” and “royal priesthood.”

Yes, I’ll admit it. I was fascinated to learn that as part of my heritage I was the 37th granddaughter of a mighty fine king. But really, does it matter? After all, Scripture teaches that through Christ, I have been grafted into the family of God. I already am a daughter of a King — not even a granddaughter. A daughter.

Reminds me of a poem I wrote oh a good 30 years ago:

AWARENESS

I didn’t even know
it was pain that I was feeling
until You comforted me.

And I didn’t realize
the encouragement I needed
until You told me I was special.

I wasn’t aware
I had so much to offer
until You told me I was the daughter of a King,

And I never understood
the loneliness I felt,
until You said You’d be my Friend.

©1974 Gayle DeSalles

Quarters and Grace

Happy Monday. Well it rained so hard on Friday night, I decided not to go to the parade. Saturday offered up a few hours of sunshine so I did head down to look at the old classic cars. They really are cool. With all the people, it was quite amazing and quite a gift from God that I ran into a good friend of mine whose family splits their time between here and California and hung with them for an hour or so.

Gorgeous day today. Supposed to hit 86 degrees. That’s definitely on the warm side. Summer begins officially tomorrow but decided to show up today. I’m so ready. As I was thinking of warm summer days, this picture came into view.

I’m attending a summer wedding. The church hot, the air stuffy. I feel a bit ashamed to admit it, but I’m bored. The church is large and the service long. I want the wedding to be over so I can get some fresh air. Of course, I’m mindful that this is a wedding, the most exciting day of this couple’s lives. I wish them well. I really do. But they’re not friends. More acquaintances. I don’t remember why I chose to go in the first place.

I glance over to my right and my attention is suddenly delightfully diverted by the exchange between my friend and his three-year-old-son sitting on his lap. While the bride and groom recite their vows, Aaron squirms in his daddy's lap. Attempting to entertain his young son who is not misbehaving, but painfully bored just like me, Kelley pulls a quarter from his pocket. Then taking a pencil from the pew in front of him, draws around the quarter and hands Aaron the pencil to color in the circle.

Aaron vigorously colors the best he can, trying to stay inside the lines. But when finished, it seems he has scribbled as much on the outside of the circle as the inside. I know, it’s rather pathetic if I’m finding this more entertaining than the reason for this gathering, but frankly, I'm really hot and really bored. I keep watching. Now that Aaron’s finished, Kelley takes the pencil from his son’s hand and with the eraser, begins erasing the outside of the quarter. Kelley flicks away the eraser shavings and Aaron’s drawing now looks perfect. Colored within the lines. No mistakes.

I’m not looking for any epiphany here but God decides to give me one any way. Kelley has no idea I’m even watching him, and he certainly can't know (nor me, for that matter) that in that moment God would teach me a lesson that would stick with me for the next 25 years—a lesson about grace. There seated next to Kelly, unknown to him, God ever so quietly whispered in my heart:

That's what I do with you every day, Gayle. I set before you a challenge or an opportunity to serve me. You try your best to obey, to accomplish what you think I want. You try so hard to do your best and “color inside the lines." But you’re only “three." Though you’re clearly an adult woman, in My eyes, you’re just a snotty-nosed little kid that I love dearly. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t color inside the lines. You make mistakes. You need my help. You need my cleansing. You need my forgiveness. You need Me for everything.

And so I come along and take My eraser—that is My grace—and erase the outside of the circle, that is your mistakes, your sins, your failures. I love it when you ask me to. But even if you don’t, chances are, I’ll do it anyway. Aaron didn’t ask his father to erase the outside the circle. In fact, he wasn't even cognizant that it wasn’t just right. But Kelley knew. And I always know.

What a kind, loving, gracious God I serve. God drove home His point. “Just as you see Aaron's messy coloring transformed into a perfectly colored circle because of his dad's gentle touch, so your life will be marked by My grace, Gayle. And the world will see in you a life filled with joy and contentment because of Me. Then will I be glorified."

Is it any wonder that I have not forgotten this sweet lesson all these years later?

Blessings all.

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. (Ephesians 2:8-10)

Reminicing

Friday again. Oh boy. A rainy day here. May last all day. Summer has been a little slow in coming, though it does have until Tuesday to officially get its act together. I hope the weather clears up later.

This Father’s Day weekend marks the 15th annual “Car d’ Alene Classic Car Show" here in Coeur d’ Alene. Perfect for the ultimate car enthusiast except you don’t have even have to be one to enjoy yourself. I went last year for the first time and had a terrific time. Tonight if it’s not raining, I’ll head downtown to watch over 600 cars, ’78 and older’, cruise downtown. Tomorrow, the cars will be lined up along the street and can be viewed at your leisure. All the while, vintage 50’s and 60’s tunes will be blaring from loud speakers. Last year, I believe it was in the 80’s. Hot! I so hope the sun comes out.

As an avid people watcher, I’m in my element. And what a day for stories. Men and women, now in their 70’s reminisce when they first got such a car, or maybe children speak of when their parents or grandparents did. I love eaves dropping, without appearing conspicuous, straining to hear the stories family members and friends share with one another about these cars and the memories they evoke. How often will I hear on such a day, “Wow, I haven’t thought about that in 30 years.”

Happened to me last year. I’m strolling along and land in front of one gorgeous ’68 red Ford Mustang. I thought that car was cool back then. Or maybe it was “cherry”? Or was it “boss”? Suddenly I’m whisked back to the 7th grade at El Dorado Elementary in Concord, California. Okay, so, I would have preferred another memory since junior high was not my favorite time of life, but you get the point.

I welcome any opportunity to remind me of God’s faithfulness. It’s become a habit for me. A deliberate choice. Everywhere I go, I say, “God show Yourself in your creation right now, show Yourself through the ridiculously simple. I don’t care a bit of someone would think what’s making me smile at this moment is stupid.” On God’s quietest day, He loves to answer such prayers, I’m totally convinced.

For example, there’s this wonderful “penny” candy store on Sherman Avenue in downtown Coeur d’ Alene. As you step inside, you’re greeted with an entire store filled with apple barrels of various candies, many reminiscent of decades ago and no longer available in grocery stores. A couple of weeks ago I’d taken an out-of-town guest there. My eyes fell on a barrel of miniature “Big Hunks.” I bet I hadn’t had a “Big Hunk” in 30 years! Maybe longer! The taffy is not too hot on the teeth, but I figured one piece wouldn’t hurt. As I chewed my mini Big Hunt, I reflected on trips to the local dime store when my family used to visit my grandma in San Francisco. A delightful memory. I thanked God for my grandma, who long ago went Home.

As I view all the classic cars this weekend and the sounds of “Surfing USA” or “Duke of Earl,” blaring from the speakers, I’ll definitely be in the middle of this moment, enjoying this day God has created. But on a whole other level, I’ll be thinking back as well. Maybe it won’t even be some classic car that triggers the memory. Maybe it will simply be a child slurping on a snow cone or watch her plaster her face with cotton candy. Maybe it will be observing some elderly couple shuffling down the street. The husband stops, points to the car and turns to his wife, with a twinkle in his eye, “Remember, Honey. . . “ She blushes and clasps his hand.

Remembering God’s past faithfulness to me will always cause me to trust Him for the future. As What’s most amazing to me—well, everything is most amazing to me about God—is that even during the many years I didn’t know Him so I couldn’t trust Him, He was looking out for me. Even during the years when any thought of God seldom entered my mind except for church on Sundays, I was always on His mind. God from the foundation of the earth was paving the way for the time that I would eventually come to know Him and love Him as I do today.

Have a great weekend! We really do need the rain here, but I wish God would reschedule it until Monday. J

You guided my conception and formed me in the womb. You clothed me with skin and flesh, and you knit my bones and sinews together. You gave me life and showed me your unfailing love. My life was preserved by your care. (Job 10:10-12, NLT)

Pass the Peas, Please

Wednesday already. Summer will soon be officially here!

Maybe it’s my mood or maybe I just feel like offering up something on the lighter side today. In any case, I was thinking about our call as Christians to love unconditionally and how hard that can be sometimes.

Yet, I think that life could be considerably brighter if folks made it a point to simply be polite. Forget laying down your life for someone (well, don’t forget it if the occasion arises), but don’t you think that just saying “hello,” “please and thank you” and “excuse me," could go a long way in easing the stress and strain of someone’s life in the course of a day? I sure notice it when someone’s courteous to me. Or not. I feel a little more honored when someone slows down at the crosswalk as I approach instead of racing through before they technically “have to.” Or when someone yields a parking spot to me if we arrive at the same time, though she could have taken it. Such simple expressions mean so much. This common grocery store exchange has been such an opportunity for me:

“Will this be debit or credit?” “Credit, thank you.”

Would you like some help out with this?” “No, but thanks for asking.”

No major sacrifice here but it feels like the right thing to do, and it makes me feel good. On days that seem especially hard or unfair, when I don’t feel like I have a lot to give, I derive great pleasure from being extra polite. I suppose that sounds silly, but it’s true. I guess because it helps take the focus off of me and it recognizes someone else. And it generally yields an immediate payoff of someone’s smile. And, it just wasn’t that hard.

In light of these thoughts, I will close by sharing some of my favorite manner rhymes from a most delightful children’s book entitled, Pass the Peas, Please: A Book of Manners. (Dina Anastasio and Katy Rock Arnsteen and RGA Pub. Group, New York ©1988)

If you’re angry at a friend,
Don’t punch or kick or shout.
Go for a walk and count to ten.
Then try to work it out.

It’s hard to keep a secret,
But secret telling’s wrong.
Remember, friends who blab too much
Aren’t friends for very long.

If your neighbor won’t stop talking
And you feel a yawn come on,
Put your mouth behind your fingers,
Until your yawn is gone.

When you’re outside playing soccer,
And kick someone in the knee,
Don’t tell him that he’s in your way,
Say, “Sorry. Pardon me.”

When you see someone who’s different,
Don’t laugh. It isn’t fair.
He might think you are different,
But he doesn’t point and stare.”

When your sister gets a bicycle
and you just get a kite,
Don’t say, “You like her better!”
Say, “Thank you. It’s just right.”

If a friend is having trouble,
And he falls and gives a yelp,
Don’t laugh or point or call him names,
Say, “Are you hurt?” and “May I help?”

No one likes to lose a game,
But if you must, you must.
So if you lose, shake hands and say,
“We’ll play again, I trust.”

When you’re going to a movie,
And the line is two blocks long,
Don’t butt in front. Go to the end.
Then calmly hum a song.

Okay, that’s enough for now. Aren't these great? I think I could write a few of my own.

Blessings all today!

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. (Ephesians 4:32)

Believing God

Monday so soon? Hope y’all had a terrific weekend.

Tonight is the last class in my "Believing God" Bible study by Beth Moore.* What a terrific study it has been.

From the first day, Beth offered a five-statement pledge of faith that became the framework for our commitment to learning to believe God more than we ever had before:

God is who He says He is.
God can do what He says He can do.
I am who God says I am.
I can do all things through Christ.
God’s Word is alive and active in me.

When we studied the third statement, “I am who God says I am,” she reminded us of six glorious facts from Ephesians 1:

I am blessed. (v. 3)
I am chosen. (v. 4)
I am adopted. (v. 5)
I am accepted. (v. 6)
I am redeemed. (v. 7)
I am forgiven. (v. 7)

And at the center of all these incomprehensible and glorious truths is the fact that we are loved by God.

This study is so rich and there were weeks I couldn’t invest the time in the homework as I wanted. There were some chapters that to benefit fully required much thinking, praying, and writing. Now this is definitely up my alley so I’ll be returning to this study throughout the summer, camping on those sections where I glossed over the first time.

In this final lesson, Beth said something that resonated with me deeply in light of the events in my life over the last couple of years. She wrote:

“One of my new mottoes has become: if I err, let me err on the side of belief. God looks on the heart. I’d rather Him see misguided actions from a believing heart than safe-and-sound actions from an unbelieving heart.” (pg. 203)

A couple of paragraphs later, Beth writes—and this is the part that really got to me:

“One of the inevitable questions each person challenged to believe God has to answer is whether she is willing to risk being wrong….One positive result of past failure is that you surrender the pursuit of perfection and, if you’ve gained any sense, replace it with the pursuit of God’s redemption. Nothing is more redemptive than faith in God. You learn that failure may be painful, but it’s rarely fatal. After coming to grips with the high premium God places on our faith, I refuse to give up a life practice of believing God just because I accidentally swerve off the road a few times in my faith journey. Hebrews 11:6 says that faith pleases God, not perfection." (pg. 204, italics mine).

This is ministering to me even now as I am making it my life pursuit to believe God is who He says He is. I began praying several years about returning to the Northwest before actually leaving Nashville. In fact, I prayed seriously for two, and from the time I first announced it to a couple of close friends, it was still another seven months before I actually packed up and moved.

I had His blessing then and I have His blessing now. There have been some aspects of this transition that are proving to be considerably more difficult than I’d anticipated. Was I short sighted not to consider these obstacles? Not at all. I’d considered them and prayed through them. Did I think they’d be this difficult, though? Absolutely not. I couldn’t have known. If I’d known beforehand, would I have had the courage to move? Honestly, I don’t know. I’d like to think so. Especially considering everything I know about God. These trials are custom crafted and allowed to grow me into the woman God wants me to be. God’s good plans for me are different from His good plans for you. He loves us all the same. Perfectly.

But here’s the coolest part. I did move and I am here and I have the peace of God flowing through every ounce of my being. I’m believing God the best I know how and this is what makes Him smile. Faith in Him makes God smile. And I have to say, making the God of the Universe smile is an extraordinary thing to be able to do. Compared to Him, I am so tiny, He could squish me as an ant. Instead, He delights in me just because I want to believe Him. He’s not smiling because I’m doing everything right. Boy, am I glad of that!

Elizabeth Eliot is quoted frequently for her simple exhortation when in the throws of a difficult trial or overwhelming day: “Do the next thing.”

Sometimes we can feel stuck as a title wave of overwhelmingness washes over us. (Is that a word?). We can become paralyzed, thinking what do I do? What you do is simple. You do the next thing. Change the baby’s diaper, make the kids lunch, kiss your husband or wife good bye, fold the clothes, drive to work, mow the lawn, take out the trash, whatever it is, there is always the next thing. I’m comforted by this. I can do the next thing. For me, that is uploading this blog.

Blessings all today and may this be an absolutely terrific Monday. I’ve already decided it’s going to be a great day.

For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:14-19 NIV)

*Believing God by Beth Moore. LifeWay Press, One Life-Way Plaza, Nashville, TN 37234-0175. ©2002