The cattle were restless. Something had disrupted the herd and caused panic. Wild-eyed, they scattered in every direction. Their snorting, heaving bodies smashing into each other in their desperation to escape. It was frightening, deafening.
The cattle were not alone. A cowboy had been lazily resting in the tall grass beside the herd before the stampede began. At the first sign of danger, he jumped up and mounted his horse. He was new to the job, but at first glance, the situation seemed manageable. He would ride around them and direct the cattle back into the security of each other.
The wrangler and his trusty steed started in on the job. They darted this way and that, trying to pull the group together, to keep them from heading off into danger. It took all that he was, all that he knew.
Heavy hooves pounded the ground beneath him and matched his heart, beating wildly with fear. The situation was out of control. They were terrified and he felt utterly powerless.
He felt like giving up but knew he couldn't. The sweat poured into his eyes, his mouth was filled with dust. Leaning into his horse, he pushed him harder. Round and round they went pushing those white-eyed beasts back together.
All at once he began to see improvement as the sweaty brown hides slowed their pace. He whispered a word of thanks and continued his work. It wasn't time to quit yet but the sight of hope revived him.
Finally, things were calm. The cattle were tired. He was spent. A good rest was on the horizon. He slipped off his horse and untied his canteen from the saddlebag. Settling into a patch of soft grass, he took a long swig of cool water and poured some into his hand to share with his trusty steed. Whuffling his gratitude, his sweaty companion lowered his head and began to graze.
I love words. I love writing words.
Words are my trusty steed. In the face of life's stampedes, I feel equipped to wrangle those wild-eyed creatures as I pen each word. Words of prayer and petition to my Lord. Words of truth to calm my troubled heart. Words of joy and laughter. Words of praise. Words of encouragement to another in need. Words to tell a story of my sparkly eyed girl or to recall a tale of days gone by.
For each word, a brushstroke, as I paint the pictures of my heart.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Saturday, December 31, 2011
the end and the beginning
It is New Years Eve. It is 10:25 pm. Andy, exhausted from a long week of work, is already asleep on the couch, Evie is singing in her bed, I am reading a book and feeling utterly miserable, my body wracked by this illness that saps me of strength and hope.
I should climb on my soapbox. I should sing praises to the Lord. I should cheer myself on with promises of God's faithfulness, words of courage and hope.
I should, yes, but I can't. I simply haven't any more than sheer determination to make it past this minute and on to the next.
Oh Lord, please help me.
New Years Eve. A day to recall what has been and look forward to what will be. Tears. Laughter. Resolutions. A day to lace up your tennis shoes and prepare to run headlong into the mystery and newness of a fresh start.
To write on the first page of a new notebook. To sink your teeth into the shiny, red skin of a fresh picked apple. The first day of school. To wake up in the morning and open your eyes. To hold, for the first time, the new life that made you a mommy. To try something you've never tried before. To make a plan and set goals.
Who doesn't love a fresh start? In that moment, we feel empowered, hopeful, ready to take on the challenge of change without feeling hindered or defined by our past experiences. God's power seems very tangible.
And then...
As fallen creatures living in a fallen world, inevitably, we will fall. But this is not the end of the story. God, in His infinite wisdom, knows our frailty. He does not watch us fall and laugh at our inability to accomplish what we resolutely attempt. He comforts us in our weakness and covers us with mercy. His mercies are perfectly, wonderfully brand new every single morning of our lives. He will strengthen us and fill us with hope for the journey.
Fresh snow is falling outside. It veils the bare, drab ground with a covering of pure white. How sweet it is for God to give us a visible picture of His beautiful handiwork as we begin 2012.
I should climb on my soapbox. I should sing praises to the Lord. I should cheer myself on with promises of God's faithfulness, words of courage and hope.
I should, yes, but I can't. I simply haven't any more than sheer determination to make it past this minute and on to the next.
Oh Lord, please help me.
New Years Eve. A day to recall what has been and look forward to what will be. Tears. Laughter. Resolutions. A day to lace up your tennis shoes and prepare to run headlong into the mystery and newness of a fresh start.
To write on the first page of a new notebook. To sink your teeth into the shiny, red skin of a fresh picked apple. The first day of school. To wake up in the morning and open your eyes. To hold, for the first time, the new life that made you a mommy. To try something you've never tried before. To make a plan and set goals.
Who doesn't love a fresh start? In that moment, we feel empowered, hopeful, ready to take on the challenge of change without feeling hindered or defined by our past experiences. God's power seems very tangible.
And then...
As fallen creatures living in a fallen world, inevitably, we will fall. But this is not the end of the story. God, in His infinite wisdom, knows our frailty. He does not watch us fall and laugh at our inability to accomplish what we resolutely attempt. He comforts us in our weakness and covers us with mercy. His mercies are perfectly, wonderfully brand new every single morning of our lives. He will strengthen us and fill us with hope for the journey.
Fresh snow is falling outside. It veils the bare, drab ground with a covering of pure white. How sweet it is for God to give us a visible picture of His beautiful handiwork as we begin 2012.
"To look up and not down, that is Faith;
to look forward and not back, that is Hope;
and then to look out and not in, that is Love."
-Edward Everett Hale
Thursday, December 29, 2011
holiday cheer
Where has the time gone? If you find it, please let me know. I've been looking everywhere for it!
This past month has been a whirlwind of celebrating, preparing to celebrate and delighting in the magic of the season through the sparkling little eyes of a 2 year old. Nothing filled my heart with Christmas cheer more than every time I drove my car after dark and listened to the screams of delight from the backseat as we passed by houses decorated with lights."CHRISTMAS!!," she screamed. It made me laugh every single time she saw "Santa Claus" and called him Noah (because she loves the story of "Noah and the Ark" and Noah has a long white beard in the pictures, so this long, white bearded man must certainly be him!). I loved the holiday baking (but felt bad feeding people such unhealthy food!), the shopping ($100 goes a long way if you get creative!), the music (with the exception of a few songs...don't get me started!), the decorations (I'm a kid at heart too, I guess!) and the warmer weather (I'm probably in the minority here, most of you dream of a white Christmas).
Never mind that most of those days have been some of the most physically challenging for me. God's timing is perfect. In the midst of my worst of days was the joy of Jesus birth and the wide-eyed wonderment of my precious little girl. And, as if these blessings weren't enough, God gave me the gift of a tender, patient husband, a mom and dad who give selflessly of themselves to help me, and the opportunity to spend some sweet time with my sister and her family who drove up from Arkansas to celebrate Christmas with us.
"Joy to the world, the Lord has come!"
This past month has been a whirlwind of celebrating, preparing to celebrate and delighting in the magic of the season through the sparkling little eyes of a 2 year old. Nothing filled my heart with Christmas cheer more than every time I drove my car after dark and listened to the screams of delight from the backseat as we passed by houses decorated with lights."CHRISTMAS!!," she screamed. It made me laugh every single time she saw "Santa Claus" and called him Noah (because she loves the story of "Noah and the Ark" and Noah has a long white beard in the pictures, so this long, white bearded man must certainly be him!). I loved the holiday baking (but felt bad feeding people such unhealthy food!), the shopping ($100 goes a long way if you get creative!), the music (with the exception of a few songs...don't get me started!), the decorations (I'm a kid at heart too, I guess!) and the warmer weather (I'm probably in the minority here, most of you dream of a white Christmas).
Never mind that most of those days have been some of the most physically challenging for me. God's timing is perfect. In the midst of my worst of days was the joy of Jesus birth and the wide-eyed wonderment of my precious little girl. And, as if these blessings weren't enough, God gave me the gift of a tender, patient husband, a mom and dad who give selflessly of themselves to help me, and the opportunity to spend some sweet time with my sister and her family who drove up from Arkansas to celebrate Christmas with us.
"Joy to the world, the Lord has come!"
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
children, cranberries and courage
Why don't tired children embrace sleep? As I type, my very tired child is jumping in her bed and singing a merry tune. Quite soon I may hear the sound of a blanket, stuffed animal and baby Lola being dumped overboard. If I hear a "mommy!" I know to come quick, this means that clothes have or are about to be removed.
We've all heard of the terrible twos. That (hopefully) brief span of a small child's life when parents wonder who swapped their sweet little baby with this...creature. I will admit, I thought it was a farce until my sweet little baby transitioned into that...creature. Her beautiful cherub face, a smile brighter than any Christmas tree and a will stronger than steel.
All is not lost. There are still those little moments when I see glimpses of her sweetness and her silly self. Like when we're driving in the car and she chatters on with the snowman window cling in her hand, speaking for the snowman as he has no voice. Snowman,"Hi. I'm a snowman. Can I come to Evie's house?" Evie, "Oh yes, snowman, you can come over." Snowman, "Can I stick to your window in your bedroom?" Evie, "Yes, you can." and then she says to me, "Mom, the snowman is coming over to stick on my window." Or as I rock her before bed and she whispers little memories of the day. Or when she runs up to give me a squeeze hug and plant a noisy kiss on my lips and then tries to pull handfulls of my hair out by the roots...
I wonder, Lord, am I equipped for this? Can I teach this little girl about You and show her how to love You and know You and obey? Am I going to mess this up? How do I teach her truth? How can I know if I'm doing the right thing when she keeps right on being just as naughty? How can she find so many things to get into? How many spankings can one child get in a day? Help!
Cranberries!
I just had to find a way to insert cranberries in here. Here's why: #1-I have a thing for cranberries. I just finished eating a cranberry smoothie so I'm thinking about them right now. #2 They start with "c" just like children and courage, and I think they tie things together quite nicely. #3 Because they are red and red is a pretty color.
I've just returned from a trip to the little one's room. I left some stern words there for her to think about. She didn't think about them for long. I can already hear the sounds of jumping and singing again. I hear a great sigh (oh wait, that was me)
Crisis averted! I heard a "mommy! I'm poopy!" and discovered a pantless, but not diaperless, poopy diapered child. Diaper changed and baby is laying back in her bed...for now.
I pray each day for the heart of my little girl. That she will learn obedience. That she will grow to see her sinful heart and be captured by Jesus. That she will be strong and courageous for the truth of the gospel.
I pray for my own heart. That I will be tender, patient and selfless. That I will be faithful to follow Christ so that my life teaches my daughter how to live well. That I will be strong and courageous for the truth of the gospel.
God hears the prayer of my heart.
I press on in courage, thankful for the cloud of witness who have gone before and share their wise words and encouragement. They testify, to those who follow, of God's great mercy. And I press on in joy at the sweetness of those moments that are only ours for a short while. Little children are not little for very long.
"Having a 2 year old is like having a blender that you don't have the top for." Jerry Seinfeld
We've all heard of the terrible twos. That (hopefully) brief span of a small child's life when parents wonder who swapped their sweet little baby with this...creature. I will admit, I thought it was a farce until my sweet little baby transitioned into that...creature. Her beautiful cherub face, a smile brighter than any Christmas tree and a will stronger than steel.
All is not lost. There are still those little moments when I see glimpses of her sweetness and her silly self. Like when we're driving in the car and she chatters on with the snowman window cling in her hand, speaking for the snowman as he has no voice. Snowman,"Hi. I'm a snowman. Can I come to Evie's house?" Evie, "Oh yes, snowman, you can come over." Snowman, "Can I stick to your window in your bedroom?" Evie, "Yes, you can." and then she says to me, "Mom, the snowman is coming over to stick on my window." Or as I rock her before bed and she whispers little memories of the day. Or when she runs up to give me a squeeze hug and plant a noisy kiss on my lips and then tries to pull handfulls of my hair out by the roots...
I wonder, Lord, am I equipped for this? Can I teach this little girl about You and show her how to love You and know You and obey? Am I going to mess this up? How do I teach her truth? How can I know if I'm doing the right thing when she keeps right on being just as naughty? How can she find so many things to get into? How many spankings can one child get in a day? Help!
Cranberries!
I just had to find a way to insert cranberries in here. Here's why: #1-I have a thing for cranberries. I just finished eating a cranberry smoothie so I'm thinking about them right now. #2 They start with "c" just like children and courage, and I think they tie things together quite nicely. #3 Because they are red and red is a pretty color.
I've just returned from a trip to the little one's room. I left some stern words there for her to think about. She didn't think about them for long. I can already hear the sounds of jumping and singing again. I hear a great sigh (oh wait, that was me)
Crisis averted! I heard a "mommy! I'm poopy!" and discovered a pantless, but not diaperless, poopy diapered child. Diaper changed and baby is laying back in her bed...for now.
I pray each day for the heart of my little girl. That she will learn obedience. That she will grow to see her sinful heart and be captured by Jesus. That she will be strong and courageous for the truth of the gospel.
I pray for my own heart. That I will be tender, patient and selfless. That I will be faithful to follow Christ so that my life teaches my daughter how to live well. That I will be strong and courageous for the truth of the gospel.
God hears the prayer of my heart.
I press on in courage, thankful for the cloud of witness who have gone before and share their wise words and encouragement. They testify, to those who follow, of God's great mercy. And I press on in joy at the sweetness of those moments that are only ours for a short while. Little children are not little for very long.
"Having a 2 year old is like having a blender that you don't have the top for." Jerry Seinfeld
Friday, November 18, 2011
courage
I have been working, for some time, on a post about courage. They all started out with a few flowery sentences but trailed off into nothingness. But now, as I sit in the dark, alone on my couch at 2am and stare at circumstances that I simply cannot see relief from, I need to climb on my soapbox and tell myself a thing or two about courage. Because God IS doing something good in this and He will give me the strength and courage to endure.
Somtimes, I have to write to remind myself of what is true because my feelings and my fears are telling me something different.
I think about courage quite often. I wonder what courage looks like, tastes like, feels like. It is significant, I know this. God talks about being strong and courageous. And so it must be that if He offers the challenge, He will also give us the necessary courage to stand in its face (and maybe even push back).
Courage pushes the needle through the fabric and presses on to make something good and beautiful out of something ordinary or impossible. It is the heartbeat in a challenge. It is beauty in ashes. It is quietness and strength in the face of the unknown. It is speaking up for truth. It is being who God made you to be.
It is endurance with hope when one sits on the couch in misery at 2am.
Take heart!
"Be strong and courageous, do not be afraid or tremble at them. For the Lord your God is the One who goes with you. He will not fail you or forsake you." Deutoronomy 31: 5-7
Somtimes, I have to write to remind myself of what is true because my feelings and my fears are telling me something different.
I think about courage quite often. I wonder what courage looks like, tastes like, feels like. It is significant, I know this. God talks about being strong and courageous. And so it must be that if He offers the challenge, He will also give us the necessary courage to stand in its face (and maybe even push back).
Courage pushes the needle through the fabric and presses on to make something good and beautiful out of something ordinary or impossible. It is the heartbeat in a challenge. It is beauty in ashes. It is quietness and strength in the face of the unknown. It is speaking up for truth. It is being who God made you to be.
It is endurance with hope when one sits on the couch in misery at 2am.
Take heart!
"Be strong and courageous, do not be afraid or tremble at them. For the Lord your God is the One who goes with you. He will not fail you or forsake you." Deutoronomy 31: 5-7
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
celebrate
November 8, 2011
November 11, 2011
I never had a chance to finish that post. It would have been filled with colorful streamers, shiny yellow balloons and toe tapping music. I wanted you to dance with me in celebration of good days. They are a gift...rare and precious though they be. Today, the sun is shining brightly. Evie and I basked in it's rays and breathed in the freshness of the fall air as we played at the park this morning. Is there anything so exciting as a trip to the park? Life, through the eyes of a 2 year old, is something to be celebrated. Just the thought of a trip to the park threw her into an inexpressible delight. She exclaimed "park!" several times before galloping around on her imaginary steed who gave his sign of approval in the, "nay her her!" she expressed for him. We bundled up and drove to a new park. I think she was a little saddened that the park was empty when we arrived, but she felt better after deciding that the children were all "at work" and would join her later. We were joined, for a bit, by 4 year old Sophie and her grandpa. Sophie chattered away and Evie followed her all around. Often it seems, Evie loses herself in wonderment of other children. What is her little mind thinking? I knew what it was thinking as we tried to leave the park. Her tears told me that. But, we tell the park that we will come visit it again soon and it helps...somewhat.
I started my day on a rough note. When the veil of sleep lifted and I was aware of the day and the all too familiar manifestations of my mysterious unwellness I didn't think hopeful thoughts. But, in the stillness, the Lord spoke to me through His Word. I took the words of Psalm 71 and asked the Lord to help me to be consumed with Him today.
"14-But, as for me I will hope continually,
and will praise you yet more and more.
15-My mouth shall tell of your righteousness
and your salvation all day long;
for I do not know the sum of them.
16-I will come with the mighty deeds of the Lord God;
I will make mention of your righteousness, Yours alone."
And in His mighty deeds and His tenderness, He answered my prayer.
Great is our God!
I am unpacking the party box. It's time to celebrate! For in this life, though full of uncertainties and trouble, we can find great, inexpressible joy in the righteousness, salvation and mighty deeds of our God. I will lift up my hands and sing for my heart is full of praise!
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
tower of courage
No, I don't have the dates wrong. I know that halloween was actually yesterday. But yesterday, I only had enough time to start and not to finish, so... please pretend that it's halloween and it's beautiful out and whatever else makes you feel like you are reading this yesterday.
Today was halloween. It was also a lovely day. A fine combination. Made me want to curl up in a chair and nap. Not what you expected, I'm sure. But hey, I was tired!
Joyce came over this afternoon. She and Evie made a barn out of wooden blocks on the living room floor and filled it with farm animals. They were enjoying the day together before it was time to "trick-ter-treat" (as said by Evie). They were happy. I was happy. Supper was happily bubbling away on the stove. Andy was happily cleaning up leaves in the yard. My hair looked good. My sister got the package that I had mailed to her. There was happiness all around.
All of a sudden, there came a different sound from the living room. Joyce telling Evie to "stop it!"
Typically, I try to let them figure things out for themselves. But, trying to keep the "happy" up in our house, I stepped in to take a look. There was Evie, taking the blocks from their farm-ation and making a tall tower.
"What's wrong," I asked Joyce. "Evie is making a tower with the blocks," she said, " and it might fall down!" I assured her that a falling block tower would not pose a threat to either of them and she agreed, relieved that they faced no danger in this new game.
As I headed back into the kitchen the wheels of my mind began to turn, thinking about the story that I had just witnessed and the relevance it had on real life. How many of us sit back in fear afraid to "stack a few blocks" because they "might fall down"?
What would life look like if you took a few blocks and started a tower? What if the tower didn't fall down? What if the tower did fall down? What if you felt free and empowered and full of PEACE? What if God is calling you to step out and do something that you are telling yourself is too scary to try? What if...good things came of pressing into fear?
I love to watch people who dream of big towers. They aren't paralyzed at the mere thought of falling blocks. Courage rises out of a pile of rubble and pushes them to dream of a higher, fancier tower.
A tower of courage begins with one single block.
"Strength and dignity are her clothing, she smiles at the future." Proberbs 31:25
Today was halloween. It was also a lovely day. A fine combination. Made me want to curl up in a chair and nap. Not what you expected, I'm sure. But hey, I was tired!
Joyce came over this afternoon. She and Evie made a barn out of wooden blocks on the living room floor and filled it with farm animals. They were enjoying the day together before it was time to "trick-ter-treat" (as said by Evie). They were happy. I was happy. Supper was happily bubbling away on the stove. Andy was happily cleaning up leaves in the yard. My hair looked good. My sister got the package that I had mailed to her. There was happiness all around.
All of a sudden, there came a different sound from the living room. Joyce telling Evie to "stop it!"
Typically, I try to let them figure things out for themselves. But, trying to keep the "happy" up in our house, I stepped in to take a look. There was Evie, taking the blocks from their farm-ation and making a tall tower.
"What's wrong," I asked Joyce. "Evie is making a tower with the blocks," she said, " and it might fall down!" I assured her that a falling block tower would not pose a threat to either of them and she agreed, relieved that they faced no danger in this new game.
As I headed back into the kitchen the wheels of my mind began to turn, thinking about the story that I had just witnessed and the relevance it had on real life. How many of us sit back in fear afraid to "stack a few blocks" because they "might fall down"?
What would life look like if you took a few blocks and started a tower? What if the tower didn't fall down? What if the tower did fall down? What if you felt free and empowered and full of PEACE? What if God is calling you to step out and do something that you are telling yourself is too scary to try? What if...good things came of pressing into fear?
I love to watch people who dream of big towers. They aren't paralyzed at the mere thought of falling blocks. Courage rises out of a pile of rubble and pushes them to dream of a higher, fancier tower.
A tower of courage begins with one single block.
"Strength and dignity are her clothing, she smiles at the future." Proberbs 31:25
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