May My Heart See...

I find it highly ironic that the season of joy – Christmas – can be for some the most depressing time of the year.   I’m not going to pretend that this time of year is stress-free, wonderful and perfect for me.   It isn’t.     There’s cookies to bake and presents to buy. There’s practices and programs, gift exchanges and decorating. Then it snows and all is frozen. The Christmas tree falls over. The dog wrecks the garland. The meeting runs late. The money is gone.   Stressed, pouting and complaining, I’ve heard it all and done it too.   It’s exhausting! Where’s the joy?   WHERE?  Joy is infectious but it has to start somewhere.   It can start with you, and it can start with me. No matter how much needs to be done, or where I have to go, I start my morning quietly in the presence of my God.   Because joy is waking up and thanking God that you did. Quiet prayer, heartfelt worship. Holy Spirit bumps reminding me of all I have been given.

  I’ve never experienced anything like this before.  I mean I have heard the story million of times.  I’ve sang the carols, I’ve watched the play.  I’ve seen the scene in the manger.  But this . . . .  never.       Maybe its cause I spent the last two hours singing Angels We Have Heard On High from the rooftop – literally.  I don’t know.  All I know is that I will never forget last Sunday EVER.   I get choked up just thinking about it . . . .   There, in the manger, was Joseph, Mary and Baby Jesus.  They looked so real. Wait, they were real – it was the dress rehearsal for Journey to Bethlehem which my church, Family of Christ, is hosting.  Three nights in December where the public could experience a glimpse of Bethlehem at the time of Jesus’ birth.    I’m playing one of the angels on the roof – outside.  Yes, I said outside, on the roof of the church, the first week of December.    (now you KNOW just how crazy I am!)  We join Gabriel in announcing the birth of th

Thanksgiving being this week and all has put me in a “gratitude awareness” mode more than usual.    Trying to stay there has been a challenge.   Because we normally, as a society, feel so entitled, gratitude isn’t part of our (maybe I should say, “MY”) make-up.   My heart is selfish, deceitful and for the most part, ungrateful. The first sin was ingratitude, you know.   Eve, in the Garden of Eden, was looking for more - something she didn’t already have, something forbidden.   Instead of looking at what she did have, she looked at what she didn’t have or couldn’t have.   I’m the same way.   I hate that about myself!   What’s a girl to do???   How is one to get “grateful”?   How can I become more thankful, or maybe even thankful at all?   My journey to thankfulness started when I realized an important, life-changing statement was true.   The world doesn’t revolve around me. Maybe you realized this already (about yourself, not me J ) .   In all seriousness, I had no idea

I love reading books.   I have always loved reading.   My reading “habits” have changed over the years though.    I used to read romantic novels all the time.   At least one a week, I bet.      I don’t think I have read one in years, though. The best book I have ever read, and still read is the Bible.   There is NO WAY I could write here, in this blog, everything I have ever learned from studying the Bible.   And I am still learning and hopefully will be until the day I meet my Savior face-to-face.   Even while studying the Bible, I still read books.   Well, that is until I was introduced to Beth Moore, and there was no time to read!   OMW I love her studies – so in-depth – so deep and SO MUCH HOMEWORK!    Life-changing FOR SURE! Now, if I can get a book done in six months, it’s a miracle!      I just finished a book I started last year sometime, not a novel, but a “self-help” kind.   Do you like those?   I don’t.   Personally, I think the Bible is THE best self-help b

Are you a hiker?   Have you ever forged a new trail, by foot, snowmobile or whatever means possible?   Or maybe you like to try things new, “same old, same old” isn’t your style but changing things up is. Not me.   I’m a creature of habit.   Oh, I’ve forged a new trail on a snowmobile before but only because I went the wrong way L .    A “new path” doesn’t sound inviting to me at all.   It sounds scary. But . . .   being in a rut doesn’t sound fun either.   It sounds sort of unhealthy and binding.     Dead. My devotion, Jesus Calling, by Sarah Young, had this quote: I, the Creator of the universe, am the most creative Being imaginable.   I will not leave you circling in deeply rutted paths.   Instead, I will lead you along fresh trails of adventure, revealing to you things you did not know.   Stay in communication with Me.   Follow My guiding Presence. First of all, what could “circling in deeply rutted paths” mean?   Let’s think this through.   Having habits

Proverbs 14:1 says that “the wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down.” Unfortunately, there are many times, and many years, that I have not been very wise.   I wish I could tell you that my “house” was blessed by my presence, grew in wisdom and flourished under my care.   But I can’t.   No, in the 55+ years of my life, I would say this lady was quite foolish. How? – you ask – or, better yet, why?    Well, mainly cause - that’s all I knew.   Oh, I am not going to blame my stupidity on my parents or my childhood.   No, it’s my fault.   But like I said, it’s all I knew.    I learned at an early age how to “tear down” – be selfish, manipulative and controlling.   I never pursued wisdom in the “old days” – that was boring.   Instead, I just wanted it my way or I looked at others, and wanted what they had. For example, I always wanted a mom like my friends’ moms.   One, who was married to my dad, wore dresses and smiled a lot.   She

My last post was directed to my granddaughters, Adalay, Elsa and Lauren.   But now, it’s the boys’ turn – my grandsons, Jaden and Bentley.   I was thinking about them as I was helping my hubby cut, split and load wood for our fireplace.   My husband did the cutting and the splitting, I did the moving and the stacking.   YUK!    Can I just say, “YUK!!!” again?   Not a fun job to say the least.   But as I was helping him that morning and NOT enjoying myself, I looked over at him and he’s sawing away.   I mean, I don’t think this was his favorite pastime either, but he didn’t mind it at all.   Without complaining, he was just working away .    I told him later that maybe we were too old for this and that we should start buying the wood next year.   He scoffed at that idea.   L   What is so fun about this?   Why in the world would he want to do it again?   Reason number 4,754,000,000 he ain’t me – we are NOT alike.    He just thinks different – males think “blue” – females t

As I held my brand new granddaughter the other morning, I had an overwhelming feeling of “mother-ness”.     You know what I mean, don’t you?   A feeling of love and possession.   I couldn’t let go, I wouldn’t let go. And as I looked in those baby blues, I thought to myself, “I just want you to know, sweet girl . . . . “   You will always be loved. That it is my hope that you grow in Truth, yearn for it  and live by it. That I want you to grow up in grace, not condemnation. To know you are forgiven, that no matter what, you are. How beautiful you are, not by the world’s standards, but by God’s. That you are the apple of His eye and favored by Him. I want you to know that your parents will make mistakes but that doesn’t mean they don’t love you.       And most importantly, I want you to live as a called redeemed   child of God.   That no matter what happens, that is who you are.         Once the prayer was whispe

All alone, just me and You.   I thought to myself, “this is perfect”.   I need this.   I need this time alone with You.  You are all I want.  All I need.   So I laid back on the hammock and looked up.   Clouds, sky, sun, trees. Your creation was still.   I thought about Who You were and where I’d been.   Your goodness and my sin.   It felt like it was just You and me, nothing else.    I was humbled.   That the God of the universe knew my name. Chief of sinners – yet I was forgiven.   I truly did not understand. I realized I would never really ever understand.   So I sang praises to Your Name and laid my heart out for You to take.   I gave You my will, my strength and my being.   All I was – was Yours.   It felt . . . free. Safe.   Loved.   I savored Who You are and just sat there in Your Presence.   There is None like You.   No one.   You are God of the universe.   The Great I Am.   Molder.   Maker.   Creator.   Redeemer.   Light of the world.   Keeper