There’s a rekindled love in my heart for the beach.  I’ve been sitting, toes and fingers submerged in the sand.  It is the loveliest kind of exfoliator, gently rubbing away the rough places.  As I sat in the sun today, digging my digits deeper and deeper I felt a sort of energy…  The sand, thick and dark was almost vibrating, a living and breathing organism.

This vacation has come at just the right time for me.  I have been looking forward to the much needed moments of quiet and space.  Pressure has been brought to bare for me in some of the most uncomfortable ways and I find myself searching, looking for answers to questions.  How often will I ask him,  “Lord, is this it?  Because this is the hard road and everyone else seems to be on a completely different path…”

So, it was in this frame of mind, I sat in the middle of my natural spa treatment.  I began to think about sand, this natural wonder, created by God,  and how it is infinite… grain by grain it can not be counted.  And, more specifically, it is the symbol of a promise made by God.

Genesis 22 recounts the story of Abraham and his son Isaac’s journey to Mount Moriah.   It was on this trip that God asked Abraham to offer his only son as a sacrifice.  Talk about pressure being brought to bear… and there they were at the intersection of trust and self preservation…  Which way is best?

I can only identify with Abraham in the very smallest of ways.  By comparison God is asking me to trust Him in such tiny baby steps…  He hasn’t asked me to give up anything of significance.  He’s asking me to live sacrificially in one way.  just one.  and still, I consider my own desires.

The rehabilitation of the sand in this Genesis story, softens and renews my heart as I remember the ending.   Abraham put Isaac on the altar and as he set about to obey God, another animal became apparent and Abraham did not have to sacrifice his only child.  Then the angel of the Lord relays these words to Abraham:

16 “I swear by myself, declares the LORD, that because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, ¹⁷ I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will take possession of the cities of their enemies, ¹⁸ and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because you have obeyed me.”

In a nutshell, God promised blessings to Abraham.  And not just a few: the blessings would be innumerable, like the sand on the seashore because of his choice to obey, even in the most difficult of circumstances.

Blessed because of obedience.  These words are working, gently sanding away the rough places of doubt and indecision in my heart.  There truly is blessing when I choose to obey.    How these covenant words have life and breath all their own, whispering hope at a time when I need to hear them most.

Thank you Heavenly Father for these promises You have given us in Your Word.  Soften my heart and my mind; mold me with sand or whatever You choose…  May Your will be done.  amen.

I stood and stared for a long time.  in shock.  almost horror.  I thought if I looked long enough they would disappear.  In any other situation, it would seem rude.  But I was unable to turn my head.   What had grabbed my attention?

It was my reflection in the mirror.  In fact, my hair.  Six shimmering, silver strands to be exact.  glimmering shiny platinum- white hairs on my otherwise head of very thick dark hair.

disbelief.

I grabbed my tweezers and pulled each hair out carefully and interrogated myself.  Where had they come from? Was it the stress of parenting?  Could it be other worries at home?    Might my overwhelmed state, planning for the coming school year have done it?  My list of concerns and fears are long…

Some people have told me that silver hair can be beautiful.  distinguished.  a subtile mark of wisdom.  I dismiss those ideas, because I know myself.  And I know what those white hairs meant…

They were markers.  reminders.  Each one was representative of a piece of my life, places where I am struggling for perfection, for control.  And, instead of relaxing, knowing the grace my Heavenly Father has offered, I continue to work.  I would like to be the trophy wife, nurturing mother, excelling piano teacher, efficient home maker and clever homeschooling mom…. Oh my heavens the list goes on and on and on…

Clearly, this is not wisdom in action.  Its vanity.  I’ll admit it.  Often I strive for my own gain, my own success, my own reputation.  But its not how He wants me to live.  The Heavenly Father did not give His only son for me to continue this way.  And so, the reminders – staring back at me in the mirror.  But then, tender and gracious words for me as well…

This is Scripture that has the power to heal my heart’s condition, from Ephesians 2:

⁶ And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, ⁷ in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. ⁸ For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— ⁹ not by works, so that no one can boast. ¹⁰ For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Truly, the story of my life is this: I have been redeemed by His grace, a work of His loving kindness.  Anything that turns out well in my life, can only be to His credit.  I am His handiwork, His creation.  This is what He wants me to remember.  This is how He wants me to live.

I suppose a few silvers now and again aren’t so bad, if they keep me on track.  Maybe someday they’ll be a sign of wisdom….

I stood with my rake in hand surveying the landscape.  Weeds, as far as the eye could see.  My husband and I set out this morning to scratch the earth, pulling up the unwanted weeds and preparing the soil for grass seed.

I’ll pay for it later.  Every muscle in my body was used, in the effort.  sweat.  pain.  I was eager to be finished.  My husband had warned me that every square inch must be ready to invite the tiny white Bermuda grass seeds.  We had to finish well or the grass seeds would be choked out…  and our yard would continue to be overcome with weeds.

As I finished up in front of the house, I almost felt joy well up at the idea of completing the job.  I could hardly wait for the whole thing to be done.  Maybe soon, in the coming days, lush green grass would appear.

and the words came out of my mouth as I raked the last few inches of ground.  “It is finished!”

The minute I said it I realized that I had quoted the defining words of Easter…

aren’t they?

Jesus, came to earth, fully human prepared to die.  His role was to be the Savior of the world.  But, it required being thorough.  He had to die a cruel death on the cross, taking every sin and burden, all illness and disease onto Himself in order for the plan to be fulfilled.  All of this had to be done for sin to be eradicated…  No short cuts.  No half way.

In those moments, just before his death he said, “it is finished.”  It was the climax of the work He had been called to do.  Three days later, He rose again – completely defeating death and hell, victorious. If any part of this Easter story had been left undone, everyone would be destined to face certain eternal darkness and death.Without  His death and resurrection, sin would be able to strangle the life from the human race as we know it…

These are words from the end of the crucifixion story in John 19:

²⁸ After this, Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the Scripture might be fulfilled, said, “I thirst!” ²⁹ Now a vessel full of sour wine was sitting there; and they filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on hyssop, and put it to His mouth. ³⁰ So when Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, “It is finished!” And bowing His head, He gave up His spirit.

I  enjoy Mark’s account of this portion of the resurrection story in chapter 16:

⁴ But when they looked up, they saw that the stone had been rolled away—for it was very large. ⁵ And entering the tomb, they saw a young man clothed in a long white robe sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed.
⁶ But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He is risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid Him.

What does all of this mean?  His thoroughness is mine to take pleasure in.  His life, given for mine, my debt of sin paid.  And its all because, it pleased Him to finish the work that He began.

It doesn’t end there…  see John 20:

So Jesus said to them again, “Peace to you! As the Father has sent Me, I also send you.”  And when He had said this, He breathed on them, and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.

Just as He was sent to earth by His father, now He asks me to believe and receive the Holy Spirit, sending me into the world to do His will.  He needs me to be thorough, just as He was, fulfilling what he has called me to do.

no short cuts.  no half-way…

And after all that He has done for me, I believe it is my pleasure…

md

Today I had a Thirty One Gifts party at my home.  Good friends stopped in for yummy food and lots of laughs, and of course a bit of shopping.  I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with my girlfriends.  But, I have to tell you something unexpected happened.

As Julie, our consultant kicked off the party, she asked everyone to share something encouraging about the hostess.  That’s me.  I felt my face flush.  Oh no.  What would people say? Wait.  Worse. What if they had nothing to say?

*gulp*

I sat there in my living room as my friends spoke some of the kindest words to me I have ever heard.  lovely, thoughtful, kind, sincere words.  about me.  It was so simple, but very moving. I had to work at keeping the tears from coming.

Later, when the party was over, I went back to my room and opened up my laptop to follow up on a few emails.  And there it was.  in my inbox.  It was a notice from the website (in)courage.  They had accepted a submission of mine and were asking me to be a writer  for their site.  and again, tears.  More significant words of affirmation.

Twice in one day, good news, in different forms, but beautiful words nonetheless.

As I thought about it tonight, I realize I am a recipient of the best news of all.  Sometimes for just a moment I forget the life giving words; promising words of love, forgiveness and mercy.   They are from the Heavenly Father himself, written down long ago.  My best hope, really…  from Ephesians 2:

⁴ But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, ⁵ even when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), ⁶ and raised us up together, and made us sit together in the heavenlyplaces in Christ Jesus, ⁷ that in the ages to come He might show the exceeding riches of His grace in His kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. ⁸ For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, ⁹ not of works, lest anyone should boast.

And it is here, after reading these words, I am moved and the tears begin to flow… Truly this is the best good news for me:  Jesus died on the cross and rose again, giving me everlasting, abundant life.  Pardon and peace : This is the good news of the gospel!

Thank you Heavenly Father for these words, for they are better than good news. They truly are wonderful!

*********************

I typically don’t think of this as an Easter Song – but oh, how it seems to fit today. Wonderful words of life!  (especially verses two and three, below)

Christ, the blessed One, gives to all wonderful words of life
Sinner, list to the loving call, wonderful words of life
All so freely given, wooing us to heaven

Sweetly echo the Gospel call, wonderful words of life
Offer pardon and peace to all, wonderful words of life
Jesus, only Savior, sanctify us forever

Beautiful words, wonderful words, wonderful words of life

There we stood, staring at each other.  I jiggled the handle again.  It was locked.  I looked at Em, “Did you lock the door?”  Her eyes looked away, “I thought it would be safer while we were playing outside.  You have keys, don’t you?”   Well, of course I had keys…inside.  And so it was.  We were prisoners of our own backyard.

I called Michael from my cell phone and he promised to leave work as soon as possible; in the meantime we would be forced to stay outside on a chili afternoon.   It seemed crazy to be outdoors – things were happening inside:  the tv was on, a candle was burning, the list goes on – at least I hadn’t started dinner yet.  As I took Mackenzie for a walk, I realized that there would be implications which He would remind me of later.

and He did.

“You lock me out sometimes,”  and that was all He had to say.

As I began to really think about it, I knew just what He meant.  Often, when I make a mistake or face consequences of my sin – I shut the door in his face and turn the lock.   I’m embarrassed or I imagine there is a good  reason to hide something from Him, which is a ridiculous thought in itself. Maybe He’s too busy for such a small matter.   I pretend that by keeping Him out and  holding onto the keys, I can find some sort of relief on my own.  But, really – I’m keeping the only solution at bay.

I can remember times when I’ve opened the door to let Him peek in, shoving my shame into the shadows, tucking my guilt away, hoping He wouldn’t notice.    As I dwell on it now, I realize its pride, nothing less. To open the door, is a sign of surrender.  It’s the first step towards being vulnerable, preparing for a deeper relationship with Him.

The reality is He sees and knows all.   And, while He is gentle and patient, He doesn’t want to be on the outside.  He sincerely wants to come in and hear all of the intimate details and share the burdens of my heart. There isn’t a thing that is too small: no sin He won’t forgive, no wound He can’t heal, no need He won’t satisfy.

The Heavenly Father waits.

²⁰ Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.  (from Revelation 3)

Those are His words.  I just have to open the door.  Really, I think He wants me to give Him the keys…

Tomorrow morning.  In less than 12 hours I will be weighing in for my weight watchers program.  I don’t have my hopes up.  As a matter of fact, I am dreading it.  My scales are never on my side.  ever. They aren’t good at hiding what they really think…

Losing weight, for me, has become a serious matter of prayer.  I am completely unable to follow this program without daily assistance from my Heavenly Father, and so, He and I chat about it regularly. Sometimes I feel as though my body should be responding to all of my hard work more quickly.  I mean after all, the Maker of the Universe, is my weight-loss coach – surely the pounds should be melting away.

Shouldn’t they?

I went into this whole “shedding my extra layers” effort with a particular expectation.  I believed that He wanted me to take care of my body, gain better self control and be a better mother.  (just to name a few reasons…) Therefore, I assumed that He would also help me.  On my terms.  He would give me the strength and courage to do it… and because I was doing what I thought was His will, in return He was going to do what I wanted.  I was going to become a size 10 in 8 short weeks.

I believe in a God who gives the very best to all of His children whom He loves.  Not only that, He is a creative God who is even greater than all of His creation.  Knowing this, it is not wrong or unreasonable to believe that He is able to do things outside the scope of my imagination.

There are a lot of people, believers, who pray, making unbelievably bold, even gutsy requests.  Sometimes He answers and sometimes He doesn’t .  In my mind I’m unable to rectify this situation.  Why do some people get the response they are hoping for and some don’t?  Is it because they “press through to their miracle”?  Is it because God loves certain ones more than others?  Does He ignore those who “don’t believe enough?”  When I read these questions out loud and really think about them, they seem offensive.  I’m certain that there are people who feel they know the answers.  I don’t claim to be one of them. I can only tell what I know for sure about this…

1. God is a great and all-powerful God. 2. All things are meant to bring Him glory.

In my case, it may mean that He will be best glorified if my journey takes a year and people see Him give me the strength to persevere. Wow is that hard for me to take.  A year is certainly not what I prefer, but that is not where my life should be focused.  How often I find my heart’s desires are self serving.

My great expectation needs to be a life that brings Him glory.  It should not revolve around my personal convenience or satisfaction.

With all of this rolling around in my brain, a familiar Scripture came to mind. When I looked it up, I found there was more to it than the portion I had learned in my younger days.

These were Paul’s words in Ephesians 3:

²⁰ Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, ²¹ to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Yes He is abundantly able to fulfill our hopes and dreams, but He only moves within His will, which is this: that the body of Christ bring Him glory throughout the generations.   And that is what my great expectation should be.  His glory known.  His will fulfilled. not mine.

Even something as tiny and insignificant as my weigh-in becomes an opportunity to give Him glory, no matter what tomorrow’s outcome is.   And that’s where it begins.   One person at a time, passing along their story, from generation to generation, telling of God’s amazing work and how he met and exceeded all expectations.

I’ve taken up with a new friend, Running.  It’s a new friendship.  She and I haven’t always gotten along. In fact, just last year I found myself cursing her after a terrible hip injury.  Yep.  That’s Running for you; friend one minute, nemesis the next.

As I left the house on Saturday morning, prepared to conquer the world in the next 31 minutes, I realized maybe she is not my friend at all.  Two times I questioned our relationship and considered bailing out. Heading home.  But, I didn’t.

It is my neighborhood after all.  And I don’t mind it in the least, when I’m relaxing in the back yard while the kids play, or driving thru the winding streets in my little black van.  But on foot, I notice every peak and valley.  Even the slightest of grades, my lungs begin to burn just a bit and I’m ready to cave.  Never mind my conquering warrior status from moments ago.  Running just taunts me, “You’ll never be in shape… You can’t do this… Its just not possible for someone like you…”

But, I pressed forward, trying to get along with her.

My street intersects with another road, called Dunhill.  Dunhill takes off wildly like a rollercoaster, sharply curving to the left and seems to drop straight down.  It is on this stretch that I typically get a good stride going, enough to help me gain momentum and then take off uphill, reaching the end of the cul-de-sac with some ease.  sort of. That’s the usual.  But on Saturday, things were different.

I found out that each household on Dunhill, on Saturday mornings, takes their large monstrous dogs out into their yards without leashes.  Running went ahead and pointed each dog out, mocking me.  I almost slowed to a standstill;  I am afraid of dogs.

Taking a deep breath, I kept on, trying to ignore her.

When I got home from the 31 minutes of the running and walking cycle, I realized my life is a lot like my experience with running.  I am my own worst enemy – believing my own fears – on two counts.  First, I think that my circumstances, the terrain in front of me is able to stop me.  Second, my own weaknesses scream so loudly in my ears and its hard to ignore.  Its true with exercise…  its true in my walk with the Lord.

Here’s what I know:  I don’t have to be afraid.  My fears of what goes on in the world around me and my worries over my own inability are inconsequential because of this one thing:

from Romans 8:

³⁵ Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?

³⁶ As it is written:“For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”

³⁷ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

³⁸ For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,

³⁹ neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Because of Christ’s death on the cross, his burial and resurrection I am able to call my self conqueror! Without exception, His love gives the ultimate power,  brining strength for endurance in any situation, spiritual or physical.  I don’t have to give an ear to my friend, Running’s taunting.

I do not have to run scared.  Not now.  Not ever.