He Keeps the Key

"Is there some problem in your life to solve,
Some passage seeming full of mystery?
God knows, who brings the hidden things to light.
He keeps the key.



Is there some door closed by the Father's hand
Which widely opened you had hoped to see?
Trust God and wait - for when He shuts the door
He keeps the key.



Is there some earnest prayer unanswered yet,
Or answered NOT as you had thought 'twould be?
God will make clear His purpose by and by.
He keeps the key



Have patience with your God, your patient God,
All wise, all knowing, no long lingerer He,
And the door of all your future life
He keeps the key.



Unfailing comfort, sweet and blessed rest,
To know of EVERY door He keeps the key.
That He at last when just HE sees is best,
Will give it THEE.


Anonymous

Moving Along Slowly

A day behind....I read yesterday's reading of "Streams in the Desert" by L.B. Cowman. I chuckled....because in years past, I have delved into the New Year with a flurry of goal setting, and lists of new resolutions, and game plans for success.

This year has been different. I have struggled a little this year...I realized over and over where I fall so terribly short. All of my best laid plans often fall as rubble around my feet. All my best inspirations become soapboxes that somehow hurt and intimidate rather than inspire.

No....this year, as much as I want to lay out all my fitness goals, my health goals, my relationship goals, my home school goals, my spiritual goals.....etc etc....I am painfully aware today that I am not the commander of my own journey. Personal development gurus would argue differently, but my life experience has shown that "I am not my own" and my journey is not my own. I am most definitely on a path, and a long and wonderfully arduous journey...to the "High Places" but it is not of my own making.

As I realized I was a day behind in "Streams in the Desert", the quiet whisper of my Father spoke to my heart saying, "My sweet child, you are not behind, you are right where you should be." He looks down as a loving parent, takes my small trembling hand...and says to me,"I will move along slowly...since you have never been this way before." (Joshua 3:4)

And so it is with humility in my own journey that I offer in it's entirety the entry for January 3, taken directly from "Streams in the Desert" in hopes that just in case you are like me, and you simply cannot muster up exciting goals and plans for the coming year....knowing that you are powerless to achieve them on your own....I offer this gentle reminder that you are "just where you should be"....and we are all being led on this journey...by a loving and patient Father...who knows that we are but dust.

January 3

I (will) move along slowly at the pace of the droves before me and that of the children.

(Genesis 33:14)

What a beautiful picture of Jacob's thoughtfulness for the cattle and the children! He would not allow them to be driven too hard for even one day. He would not lead them at a pace equal to what a strong man like Esau could keep or expected them to keep, but only one as fast as they were able to endure. He knew exactly how far they could go in a a day, and he made that his only consideration in planning their travel. He had taken the same wilderness journey years before and knew from personal experience its roughness, heat and distance. And so he said, "I (will) move along slowly." "Since you have never been this way before" (Josh.3:4)

We "have never been this way before," but the Lord Jesus has. It is all untraveled and unknown ground to us, but He knows it all through personal experience. He knows the steep places that take our breath away, the rocky paths that make our feet ache, the hot and shadeless stretches that bring us to exhaustion, and the rushing rivers that we have to cross - Jesus has gone through it all before us. As John 4:6 shows, "Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down." He was battered by every possible torrent, but all the flood waters coming against Him never quenched His love. Jesus was made a perfect leader by the things he suffered. He knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust"(Psalm 103:14). Think of that when you are tempted to question the gentleness of His leading. He remembers all the time and will never make you take even one step beyond what your feet are able to endure. Never mind if you think you are unable to take another step, for either He will strengthen you to make you able, or He will call a sudden halt, and you will not have to take it at all. Frances Ridley Havergal

In "pastures green"? Not always; sometimes He

Who knowest best, in kindness leadeth me

In weary ways, where heavy shadows be.

So,whether on the hilltops high and fair

I dwell, or in the sunless valleys, where

The shadows lie, what matter? He is there

Barry

The End and the Beginning

New Beginnings

What may be perceived as the end of something, is the start of something new in your life.

What you call a beginning is often the end.

And to make an end is to make a beginning.

The end is where you start from.

Author Unknown

Photo: Broce Ranch, Evergreen CO...my favorite home.

Delicious Days of Joy

These days are filled with such joy! A special packaged arrived from our beloved grandmomma who lives tucked away in the mountains of Colorado! Our hearts long for her, miss her desperately! The package was not intended for Christmas, it was sent just because I love you! Inside were some new chef's outfits...in the perfect "signature" colors of my girls. Emily...always my "purple girl" as we call her....shrieked excitedly as she donned her apron and her chef's hat! Reaghan, always my pink princess...found hers and also tied it on, pausing a moment to pose in front of the mirror to examine just how adorable she must look! I smiled, grabbed my camera and of course seized the moment for capturing some sweet memories! How is it that grandmomma's know just what will ignite the hearts of their babies? She knows them sooooo well!!

Tender memories began to fill my mind....myself a tiny girl with long brown hair, pulling up a chair next to my momma in the kitchen! She had carefully found and woven together a set of recipes that would bless her own family, and unknowingly be handed down to generations after her! We would gather the bowls, the ingredients, and work together in the kitchen creating these delectable cookies and treats together. Her careful instruction, her sweet patience with my childish attempts at cookie making. I smile. Memories of a kitchen filled with the fragrance...of cookies, but mostly of love. Love that has blossomed into a beautiful friendship!

I look around my own modest kitchen. My girls delighting in their spoons, bowls, and myriads of cookie ingredients! So with tender heart I pull down a couple of the recipes passed down from my own momma. I read them over to my girls...telling them of my own memories of these exact recipes. And we embark on our own cookie making day! Laughter fills the room, tiny voices chattering with joy over kitchen tasks...memories flood in. Measuring, Mixing, Creating....and of course the stolen nibbles here and there! I am grateful today, for my momma....for her love...for her legacy! I see a little of her in each of my girls, and I know that one day, they will be creating these same cookies, in their own kitchens, filled with love....and a heart full of sweet, sweet memories!





(Photos: Cookie Making in Chef's Outfits)

Unexpected Gifts

The season of gifts. It swirls around us during this time....the thrill of the giving...the excitement of the receiving. Gifts are truly wonderful things!

Noah Webster, in his 1828 dictionary defines a "gift" as "anything given or bestowed...transferred from one person to another without compensation".

I reflect on the what it means to open a gift....to hold the wonderfully wrapped package in our hands, wondering....dreaming...of what could be inside. Something special...indeed. Something intended JUST for me, true. With trembling hands, we untie the lovely bow and tear through the patterned papers that conceal our treasure. Still unknowing...it's contents still a mystery.

Oftentimes, it is the anticipation, the unknowing, the trembling hands that make the gift such a joyful occasion. Certainly, the gift itself is a blessing...usually something we have been hoping for, or something personal from someone who loves us dearly. A token, really, from the heart of another bestowed directly into our own hearts. A transfer of affection, tenderness.....a gift.

And yet, gifts...in all their wonder...can also be unexpected bestowments. A deeply hidden gift in the midst of something not nearly as beautiful as glittering bows and brightly colored paper.

Is it possible that these gifts, these loving treasures can be found at the end of a very long "unwrapping"? An unwrapping that is laced with pain, struggle, anguish...and even betrayal?

It is in these difficult seasons of our lives...that some of the most life-changing gifts are bestowed deeply into our souls. Gifts that only the very breath of heaven could deliver.

These are the unexpected gifts. For we find our faces marred with the dirt of life, and smeared with the anguish of our pain. It doesn't seem like a gift...it seems hard, and difficult. It seems like it might even crush us beneath it's weight. The pain of an ended relationship, the struggle of devastated finances, even the betrayal of those we thought would never leave us.

Ours is the wrapping of the forsaken, of the broken.

There is no glamour here...no glittering bow. Just pain.

And then...as the "unwrapping" draws to a close...we begin to SEE! Our eyes get to peek beyond the wrappings...and glimpse a gift! How like the Kingdom of God to be so opposite and almost contradictory in it's nature. We know that in order to be the first, we must be the last. In order to be the greatest, we must be the servant. We know that to live, we must first die.

Therein lies the gift. In the journeying through our striving...we find the gift of Peace.

In walking through the fires of refinement, we find the treasure of Purity and in ourselves a Reflection of Him.

At the end of a long list of bills, and a shallow bank account....we rage, we struggle, then we find Contentment, Gratitude and even the gift of Simplicity.

In enduring the yoke of heavy, difficult burdens, we find HIS yoke...that is Rest.

And in the ashes of devastation, the aftermath of being betrayed by those we held so dear... comes a double gift. First the gift of Freedom! The release to fully embrace the next gift, which is the gift of Himself. Drawing us in, holding us close, and whispering...."My Beloved,I will NEVER leave you, and will never, ever forsake you."

And in receiving HIS gifts.....we smile. For we then give the most precious gift back to the Giver.

John Bunyan calls it the "Acceptable Sacrifice, The Excellency of a Broken Heart".

"For You delight not in sacrifice, or else would I give it; You find no pleasure in burnt offering. My sacrifice, the sacrifice acceptable to God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart...such, O God, You will not despise."

Psalm 51:16-17

(amplified)

Most Precious Gift

A life changing experience, this 1000 Gifts. I had always thought of myself as a grateful one; one who offered praise and thanksgiving for the blessings in my life. But in numbering a small notebook from one to one thousand….I was struck with how very little I actually GIVE thanks.

Of course I think it, and over the years I have enjoyed aesthetically pleasing things…almost as a celebration of spirit. But to actually pause, to record, to pen my gratitude to the Giver…is changing me on a level I cannot explain.

I have noticed that the area of most change is toward my precious husband. As a young bride, I was steeped in Cinderella syndrome, searching and expecting my “happily ever after”….and sadly, have lived much of my married life in pursuit of the ever elusive dream, focusing and pressing toward unrealistic perfections and romance.

I have read recently, that if you will only open your eyes, you will see right in front of you that very thing which you have always been desiring and pursuing. You already have it…it is only a matter of seeing it.

You already have it….

I wonder…what would happen if I had a list of 1000 Gifts, that held only those things that pertained to my dear husband…what would my marriage look like after recording those 1000 gifts? Those fingerprints of my Father found wrapped up in the heart of my husband, in his life, his fatherhood, his faithfulness…

Already so much of my gratitude journal holds entries of him, and it is already transforming my heart and renewing my mind in my relationship to him….

My heart smiles as I think of all the years of laughter and joy, sorrow and tears that have weaved themselves into our marriage…what beauty, right in front of me.

~ skinny, blond haired boy of 15, whom I was instantly enamored with…

~ quiet, forbidden holding of my hand, during youth group concert…precious

~ tender evening of teenagers on a porch swing, as heart strings were tied in the heavenlies

~ years passed, now a grown up, beautiful man in army uniform, stealing my heart and my affections

~ an arranged date, a simple “knowing” that the search was over

~ man of strength and confidence,…so strong where I was so weak, so unsure and timid

~ faithful and committed in a difficult first few years of marriage, as I found my voice… loudly!

~ non-religious, deep man of faith, teaching me to question everything…showing me a bigger God than I had ever known.

~ a real and non-pretentious man, teaching me to think for myself… speak my mind

~ patient and tolerant as my “people pleasing” tried to force him to fit into my family

~ always supportive through my countless business and entrepreneurial dreams

~ self sacrificing heart, who walked away from a secure job, to pursue MY dreams in Colorado

~ Amazing provider, never too prideful to take the less than perfect jobs in order to provide.

~ Holding me, encouraging me through my tears when life got hard, and my faith was wavering

~ My rock, my strength in the delivery room…3 times.

~ Watching him hold these new souls, knowing instinctively how to love them, tend to them

~ Only he could evoke truly delightful belly laughs from our babies

~ Working into the night, sleep schedules upside down, all for us…

~ The manliest of men… handguns, police officer, firefighter, rescue, always the servant!

~ Tender letters through the years, speaking his heart of love with clumsy but beautiful words

~ Anniversary number 7, with rose petals on the floor spelling out , “I love you”

~ His head in my lap, begging for relief for yet another migraine

~ Beautiful father, loving his children as I have never seen.

~ Gentle heaving of his snores as he sleeps deeply, right beside me each night

~ His true and growing walk with the Father, that deepens with age

I am grateful for this man…for all that he is, for all that he is destined to be. He is truly my greatest gift…and I cannot imagine sharing this life with any other… It is my greatest joy to call myself his helpmeet.

My deepest prayer is that I would be worthy of such a man. And I look forward to filling pages and pages with my thoughts, my memories, my gratitude for such a precious gift.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast , it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails”
1 Corinthians 13: 4-8

Photos: Evergreen, CO Day at the Lake Fishing with Daddy

Called by My Name.....

Another early morning walk….earlier this time, a search for a quieter experience, proved true. As I donned my workout clothes and tied the laces of my shoes…I thought nervously, “do I really dare walk while it is still dark?” Married 16 years to a police officer will do that to a woman…caution. And so placing my cell phone in my pocket (just in case), I ventured out….The air was damp with humidity, the dogs were silent this time, no cars leaving for work, no rumbling engines, or loud highway sounds filtering into my neighborhood. Yes, still a basic, run of the mill neighborhood and certainly not the beauty that I found at Broce Ranch in Evergreen Colorado (photos)…., but instead of being assaulted by the sheer busyness….today, I felt the silence.

As my steps padded the pavement, a certain rhythm emerged, and I found myself breathing in the cool, Autumn air…and my spirit began to stir.

Initially, my prayers were for thanksgiving, for praise, …eventually they moved toward myself and my personal walk with the Lord, crying out for more of Him, and less of this world. On the dawn of this new day, I laid before Him my anxious thoughts about this new President of ours. Election reports still ringing in my ears, my gut wrenched. What will become of our nation with a man like that in office….I cried out. And yet, the gentle reminder from within that beckoned me to trust Him…for He alone has raised up this leader, and He alone knows the plan for our country. My heart sickens a little, wondering, knowing really, that humility and brokenness are the in the future for this country. The journey ahead is unknown, but I exhale…and breathe in trust…in One who knows…and who’s plan was set before the foundations of the earth. This election was no surprise to Him….He raised him up….for such a time as this. Oh America, humble yourselves, turn to the one who set us apart…return to the One…who was our first love. I ache for our nation….I ache for the apathetic Christians in our nation who have so mixed and mingled with the world that we are indistinguishable from it.

Just yesterday, the kids and I were reading how the Children of Israel, once again began to complain to Moses…even after all of Gods miraculous intervention, all of His mercy….in spite of it all…they insisted on idols, insisted on turning their hearts to Egypt, and almost welcoming(even desiring) the bondage there, over the need to trust Him in desert. And we read, how they began to show discontentment toward the manna….the very sustenance of God himself. Demanding, MEAT….Oh, how that is our nation….it wasn’t enough that God drew us out from the rule of of an oppressive England, it wasn’t enough that he prospered us, it wasn’t enough that poured out his blessing again and again…still we allowed the “mixed multitudes” to influence and draw us into discontentment. Even though slaves, the Hebrews longed to be cared for by the Egyptians, provided for….even if it cost their freedom. So it is in this modern day land of ours. We demand MEAT! We are entitled to it! Give it! NOW!

As the kids and I read this story, we saw how God granted their demand…causing the quail to fly in, in an eerie almost plaguelike moment. Has God granted our “demand”? They were giddy….catching them, killing them, gorging themselves on this “meat”….that they had demanded. And they ate, and they gorged, and they ate some more…..until they were sick. Their greediness, their desire had not seen past their instant provision….but the result of that provision was sickness, death, a plague of gut wrenching illness…..brought on by their gluttonous hearts. Many, many died….succombing to the death brought on by the very thing that they thought they wanted.

My seven year old Reaghan, during the narration, the telling back of what we had read…. Said, “even though God knew that the manna was better for them, they thought it was boring and so God gave them the meat they wanted. But sometimes, what we want is not what is good for us. They had to die before they realized they should have been grateful for the manna.” Out of the mouth of babes….

And so on this quiet morning….a silence fills the air. An entire nation of people…wait. Some rejoicing and dancing at the prospect of this new leader, and some sickened and beginning to fall on their faces before God, knowing that on some level….the nation has gotten what it asked for….and the repercussions may…be… a death to all we have known.

The words of 2 Chronicles 7:14 thunder in my ears...

"If My people, who are called by My name, shall humble themselves, pray, seek, crave, and require of necessity My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, forgive their sin, and heal their land." (amplified)

What does it mean to be HIS? Am I really...His? Is He really my Lord? Or am I “my own”? …..

My heart longs to know…what does it mean to be called by His name?

NAME in the ancient text refers to…..nature.

We use his “name” as if some magic letters J-E-S-U-S… are going to make it so.

And yet all through scripture, we see it is never that easy…as a “magic” word. When the God of the Universe “calls someone by name” or “changes their name”….He usually walks them through some experience, wereby He CHANGES their very nature into His own. An ending of the old….a death to who they’ve been, the dawning of the new…..and as they emerge out of the darkness of the refinement experience…they are NEW.

And so…I ponder this morning as my neighborhood sleeps….what is our nature? Wheat and Tares are grown up together…and only God can tell us apart.

It starts with me….What is MY nature? My heart wrenches at the realization of all the areas in my own life, my own walk…that do not reflect His Nature.

My carnal inclination is to “fix” this problem, to dust off my list of rules….the detailed picture of how a Christian should live…then grit my teeth, and make myself follow those rules. Or at least be a good “witness” by looking like I follow the rules.

But He calls me deeper….As deep calls unto deep….He says simply, COME. Come to me…drink of me….sup with me….fellowship with me….

Drawing me, yearning for me….to simply come. And in the very coming, a small piece of my flesh dies. I drink deeply of his cup….his presence, his life…and a gentle transformation, begins to take place.

No list of rules….no determination….just intimate fellowship with the Lover of my Soul!

My carnal mind screams that there is NO way, it is this easy…there must be something I can DO!

I think back to a lengthy and hard discussion had with my Brayden…my precious nine year old son….on the power of associations. We’ve always heard “you become like the people you hang around”….have we not?

I have watched as a sensitive, tender boy with natural leadership ability, has spent far too much time around others who live differently, talk differently, act differently…whose core values are vastly different from our own. And then, found myself shocked when after a few weeks of continual summer play with these same children… my tender son, now mocks and disdains his sisters. His once transparent heart, is now deceitful and sneaky. His respectful obedience to his parents has been replaced with rolling eyes, and an argumentative spirit. And the Spirit speaks….you are surprised by this? A pulling back was necessary...and just now after two months of changing the friends, limiting the influences...we are seeing the sweet nature returning.

And so, if this nation is to be transformed, if we are to see godly leaders in our nations highest offices, it must start on a heart level. For the Kingdom of God does not come through legislation….but through relationship…where those of us who call our selves by his Name….find their own “closet”, and gets intimately acquainted with Abba, and through communion, and fellowship, and stillness in His presence…He lays us bare….opens us up….and begins to gently wash, nurture and prune our lives, pouring forth Himself, and therefore His character into our souls.

And we find all of those things that so easily ensnared us…our pride, our self sufficiency, our self righteousness, our lying tongues, and our lustful eyes, our bitterness….begin to fade and be weeded out of our hearts.

And without striving, without anguishing….He says, “Be still….and know”, and we rest.

And I cry out with Much Afraid, in Hannah Hurnard's classic book, “Hinds Feet on High Places”….”Oh, Lord….tie me to the altar…that I may NOT be caught struggling.”

I so desire His nature to completely erase my own wretched one. Oh, that my flesh would die, and my ways would somehow become His ways…that my thoughts would somehow become His thoughts.

And it starts with pulling back…silencing those influential voices that sway my heart and keep my flesh alive and well….and allowing Him to draw me into the Holy of Holies. To linger there in that place, to gaze deeply and long…at His face…and to inhale His holiness, and His righteousness….

And in doing so…my name is changed….

And He smiles

Photos: Broce Ranch, Evergreen CO...nature at it's best

Colors of Chaos

Wisdom in Simplicity. How we seek after great truths, strive for knowledge, eager to attain some elusive greatness . But I am finding that often God speaks in a whisper, and often it is in the ordinary things of our days. As my children and I have studied the magnificence of our Creator, and the majesty with which He has poured forth himself into all of creation...it only takes a moment, a stopping to observe, a lingering to ....see. So many of my days reflect a certain chaos. Not really full blown mahem, but more of a crazy mix of joys, emotions, frustrations, hurts, silliness, disobedience, repentance, loudness, refinement, struggle, smiles, laughter....the list goes on.

Oftentimes, when this "mix" of our lives happens...it just gets MESSY! Tempers flare, rash words spoken, hearts hurting. Spilled milk, dropped and shattered dish, reluctant learners, doctors appointments, mounds of laundry, forgotten appointments, strained family relationships....all become one big mixed up pot of colors. Swirling, splotching, with no pattern...just chaos. Or so it seems......

And yet as the kids dash outside after a whirlwind of paint and brushes, creativity flowing....I sigh as I realize they have left yet another "mess" for me to clean up. I smile as I look outside and see them laughing, playing, jumping together, and think that I don't dare interrupt such joy. So I lean to pick up this plate of paint...and my first observation is that it seems they have used up the entire bottles of paint...and lament at such "waste". And then I hear the whisper....

look beyond what you see

... I stop and observe this drippy mess...and think....this is such a reflection of my life. Seemingly disjointed, chaotic in it's own precious way. Our lives.... messy. I pick up the globby paintbrushes, and casually begin to stir the colors...mesmerized by their gentle mixing and swirling. Soon I feel almost rythmic as I find the joy in creating order, even design....in the midst of this chaos. At first it is a simple back and forth watching the colors and textures appear...and then I realize...TRUE BEAUTY can come from this chaos. And it did... a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, as I found delight in what I was creating....designing...causing all the colors, swirls, textures, to work together....WORK TOGETHER to create something beautiful.

My thoughts drift back to the chaotic colors that make up my life...bright yellows of my children's laughter and joy, the deep reds of the harsh words spoken that sometimes leave wounded hearts. The bright blues of peace and rest, the pure whites that are the grace of my loving Father...covering my weakness. The haunting blacks, that are the heaviness of broken relationships and lonely hearts...and out of these flow colors too numerous to mention...but all begin to flow... to work together.... Creating a masterpiece almost too beautiful to wash down the sink. And I touch the heart of God once more....

His thoughts become my thoughts. I see for just a moment through His eyes...

I glance outside again, my children playing joyfully and contentedly (for now...) and I marvel. Grace.

"We are assured and know that all things work together and are
fitting into a plan for good to and for those who love God and are called
according to His design and purpose." Romans 8:28 (Amplified)

Gratitude

The season of Thanksgiving is upon us. We ventured out for one last "pumpkin patch" bit of fun today with grandaddy. I wish I could write about how cool and crisp the air was on our faces, or how the smells of roasted corn hung in the chilly air. But the truth is, I simply cannot. It was a sweltering 80 degrees. Texas trees don't turn vibrant shades of yellow and orange...they simply go from green, to...well, brown. We sought shade around every corner, and fought honeybees as sweat trickled down our backs and faces. Not ideal, ...not anywhere close to ideal. But I was struck once again, with the opportunities God gives me to choose what I will see. As my children moaned and poured sweat, we stood in a long line, waiting for snow cones. (only in Texas~) I felt my own temperature rising, and my own disappointment lodged in my throat. Sometimes I don't understand, how God can give someone like myself, such a deep love for something...in my case it is coolness and beauty, and then proceed to plant them in a place where it is such an inward struggle to find it.

And yet, somewhere in all the people, in the activity, amidst the thousands of swarming honeybees...I heard the Lord speak, "Go higher, and come in deeper". Satisfaction was not to be had today in the outward...in the activity. Today, it had to be sought. "Seek and you shall find, knock and the door will be opened, ask....and it shall be given to you." I exhaled somewhere between the hay maze and the face painting, and knocked... And I found the beauty of the Lord. It wasn't in the obvious today, no....it had to be sought after. But in the asking...it was given. Grace. Beauty found unexpectedly in the dried corn, or the grain of a weathered fence plank. Grace. Peace in the bluest sky, and the whitest fluffy cloud. Grace.

I touched, just for a second what it was to be "in the world...not of it". I was in the midst of the masses, people at every side, activity all around me. And yet, I lost myself in searching for the colors, the textures, the smells and the sounds of the day. I wish I could say it was through connectedness with my kids...it wasn't. They played...I puttered. At one point, my dad said, "Kimberly...what are you doing?"...as I was focusing the lens of my camera on the piece of wood with rusted nails and remnants of red paint. I smile. Only I know what I am doing...although admittedly, looking foolish to anyone who might be watching me. I even recall taking a picture from the trunk of an enormous oak tree, looking up through the branches toward the sky....and people would walk by me and look up...trying to see what I was taking a picture of! Foolishness indeed.

And so we nibbled on the less than perfect pumpkin bread that I had baked for our outing. We ate snow cones, whirled on the merry go round, climbed through hay mazes, and wiped sweat from our faces. But joy found me, amidst it all. And I was indeed, surprised by it.

A few days ago, I read Ann Voskamp's blog, Holy Experience on "One Thousand Gifts" and was so inspired to begin my gratitude list. In the three days that I have been keeping track, I have been changed. A deep realization that at my core, I tend toward negativity. Seeing often what is wrong...with circumstances, wrong with my marriage, wrong with my homeschool, wrong with my friendships, wrong with my body....and ever on a quest to fix the things that are wrong. These past three days, my spirit has shifted, my eyes are opening...and somehow in the midst of replacing car brakes, overdrawn accounts, tired muscles...I am elated. I am seeing past it, and finding gratefulness THROUGH it somehow. It is the glimpses of the divine...in the ordinary. It is what I have desired my life to be, and yet, not ever tangibly written them down...content that I am being grateful. But in putting pen to paper and putting down the words, it solidifies something deep within my soul. I have watched my husbands heart soften, I have felt his affection, his touch that has been so scarce of late. I have heard tenderness in my children, a desire for more snuggles, and I am changed on a level I cannot explain. As I tucked my Reaghan in to bed the other night, she said, "mommy what happened to you?"...I reply.."what do you mean sweetie?"....she searches for the words and says, "your heart is kind, and you aren't so bossy or something"....I smile, and I tell her. Gratitude. A choice to be thankful, to see beyond what seems to be...to what truly is. And to be in awe....joy floods in at that moment. Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Gentleness, and a Self Control....and so I conclude that Gratitude, ushers in the holy, opens the floodgates to God's Spirit. For the fruit is almost instant, and runs deeper than determination. It is a change in my nature. I thought it was my little secret...only I knew how I was feeling, gracious, loving, peaceful. But apparently it was spilling over, touching the lives of those around me. And it's only been three days....so I number my journal pages...forward to one thousand. I can't wait to see what fills these pages.....and who I become in the process... a few of my entries,

(5)Homeschool in pajamas, snuggled in together weaving subjects like threads of a tapestry...

(7)My husbands strong hands, gently washing my hair...

(12) Young, pudgy fingers that still need help tying shoes...

(22) sleepy, disoriented eyes of a newly awakened child...

(24) tender, repentant heart of a seven year old asking me for forgiveness for her disrespectfulness

(36) A dishwasher that toils...while I play...

Gratitude...Change me Lord, to see your majesty in every little thing. In the common moments, may I experience your greatness and realize that nothing is really a little thing.

"Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing me to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we really experience life and the world." John Milton

"One thing have I desired of the Lord, and that will I seek after. That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold and gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple." Psalm 27:4

Seize the Day

The beautiful days of Fall have finally arrived! It feels as if the days have slowed, and the tempo has relaxed. Our bodies long for the outdoors, the fresh air. There is always something about Fall, when the world of nature seems to be preparing....foraging...as if knowing instinctly that a new season has dawned. We took a break from our regular school schedule and sought out a quiet spot...to walk, to talk, to discover.

Lately, I have struggled with our living in a cookie cutter neighborhood, in the suburbs of the huge metropolis of Dallas/Ft. Worth. It certainly was not the dream of my heart. It was not the life I desired for my children. Concrete driveways, and paved roads, tiny backyards...all seemed to be uninspiring and creating a sort of dulldrum in our minds and hearts. I remembered reading Karen Andreola say once that they had to "seek out" places to find nature at one point in their homeschooling journey, to find things to write in their nature journals. And so today, we ventured out. We found a tucked away park, and were thrilled to discover a little creek running through it, with an abundance of trees, nuts, foliage, animals, to explore!

I marveled as my children came alive. Each one instantly finding their own special discoveries in the veins of a leaf, or in the plop of a turtle as he escaped into the water. Gorgeous trees became our playground as my girls climbed to their hearts content. I was worried that I would have to prompt, to encourage...but God met us in that park. There was no contrived "lesson" from momma...only the soft whisper of the Creator himself as he beckoned us to "taste and see" all that He had created just for us.

Brayden, always delighted with the simple things, was especially amazed at the shapes and varieties of leaves, textures, and sizes. He also drew all of our attention to a wild and aggressive sparring match between two furry squirrels! As they rolled and fought, my children laughed out loud with pure delight! We walked along the creek, stopping and lingering, soaking in the multitudes of sights, smells and sounds....

The beauty of this day was that my children discovered the Divine in the ordinary. They looked beyond a pretty flower or a spider web, and found symmetry, color and details that even I had missed. At one point, Emily, my sweet vibrant five year old...pointed out a "leaf that had air in it"! Sure enough it was a pod of some sort, almost like a "leaf balloon". She promptly popped it open to discover one simple, perfectly round seed right in the middle.

Upon finding a perfectly dried dandelion, Reaghan, my tender...contemplative seven year old, insisted that she make a wish. Closing her eyes tightly, her little heart searched for just the right wish, not taking lightly this ceremonial blowing of the dandelion. Once she had found it, she gave a barely noticible little nod of her head, then blew ever so sweetly across the face of that fuzzy ball. I am convinced that whatever she wished, that her Father in Heaven was so delighted with her tenderness, and awe...that He just might answer that little unspoken prayer.

As the day drew to a close, I was delighted as my precious boy came up and showed me this leaf. "What does it remind you of momma??" ...."It looks like a heart buddy".....then as he insisted I take the picture of it...I noticed the heart, lying perfectly over the tender palm of his hand. My son....my only son....my heart skipped a silent beat, as I thought of another "only son" with his palms outstretched...and a gaping hole in the middle of his hand. Nail holes...a crucified life....a broken body...broken for me...for these beautiful babies of mine. Those holes, an emblem of love...deep abiding love....drawing me into himself. The breezes of heaven swept over me at that moment. These are the moments, gathered up, collected together...that make up the fabric of our very lives. May I always remember to seize the day, to see beyond what is there, and to abide in that place.

Mesmerized

I am mesmerized by the handiwork of our Creator! Sometimes looking through a lens, I can see intricacies that get lost in the bigger picture. To see the detail of a flower, perfect symmetry of the brances of a tree, or the tender melodies of a babbling brook. I am moved to worship. It is a cathedral unlike any church I have ever been to. My soul soars and my spirit is nourished. I do not worship the creation itself...I am moved beyond it...through it really, as it is but a glimpse, or a mere reflection of the magnificence and slendor of God himself.


 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning penned it so beautifully, "The earth is crammed with heaven and every common bush afire with God, but only he who sees takes off his shoes."



Oh Lord, that I would gaze deeply and long at the beauty of you. In every crashing wave, in every detail of my childs face, in every heave of my husbands breathing as he lays beside me at night. May I somehow soak it in, may I somehow inhale your very Spirit at that moment. My shoes are off...I welcome these miraculous glimses of your holiness. I revel in you.

A Place to Think

Always a late "technical" bloomer...I have finally discovered the world of blogging. I seem to have so many things to say, about so many things. Yet when I speak them verbally, they are too numerous...and often overwhelm others. I used to journal, but the entries got fewer and farther between. A mom of three children, wife of a wonderful husband, and busy homeschooler....rarely having time these days to even find my journal, let alone write in it before there is another load of laundry to do, another meal to cook, and another crisis to handle.

My heart is filled with words, phrases, prayers...I have utterances that flow from me...and have no place to land. My husband is a sounding board, but limited on how much he can sit and listen to my endless streams of thoughts and words. And so they have remained inside of me. Days pass, children grow, the weeks flow by slipping into months...and I realize I can't even hear the words anymore...for they have gotten lost in the day to day. But breath of heaven is in the "everyday" and I feel like I have lost touch with that.

Maybe these contemplations will find another heart to bless, another ear to hear. Maybe they won't, but at least they will be an outlet. I am reminded of an earthen vessel that is full....but stagnant. Only when poured out can it be refilled with fresh, life giving water.

I know that some of these musings will be spiritual for that is who I am....some will be practical...for I am that too. Some thoughts will be random....that is how I think... And all will be for His Glory, for He alone is my All in All.

I sigh. What will emerge? It is almost with fear and trembling that my fingers find these keys. The lid opens slowly....do I dare?? I smile tugs at the corners of my mouth...yes, I dare. A new season to be embraced, new depths to be reached, and in it all....a rediscovering of myself....