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Yummy Goodness
I can’t wait to get this yummy goodness in me!
What are some of your favorite summer meals? -
No Bad Endings
If you have the time (and some tissues handy) you simply must read When Bad Things Happen by Ann at Holy Experience. It melted my world this morning and brought me to worship on the fullness of God’s grace.
Here’s a taste of what she has to say:
God’s story lines in the lives of His children are formulaic: they are all good. The events may jarringly twist and surprise, even seem to pry out our heart, chunk by mangled chunk, but, in the fullness of time, there are no bad endings.
Praise God for the perfect ending that awaits in glory!
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Wednesday Worship: Yearn
Walking in the early morning hours, watching day brighten the already beautiful flower framed streets, nodding heads and exchanging greetings with the other walkers, I talk with God. I love walking and telling Him about my life. I love sharing my heart with Him. And I love that I can hold nothing back, because He knows it all already. It has been good to be home to my morning routine. Yesterday my prayer was for a heart that yearns for Him, and I couldn’t stop singing Shane & Shane’s song, Yearn (found on An Evening With Shane & Shane). I made it my prayer, and it has been burned into my mind and heart since.
Written by Shane Barnard, Yearn speaks of that desire to be completely consumed by God. I get so distracted by myself that I forget God. Even my prayers for a changed heart are tainted with the desire that my changed heart would please others. Why am I so consumed with what others think of me rather than being enraptured with God and His beauty? Oh for a heart full of God! He has given me life and breath, and I desire to burn so completely for Him and I long daily for a deeper relationship with Him. I truly want to yearn for Him and only Him.
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This place in time
That I might seek and find my God
My GodLord I want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over You and only You
Lord I want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over You and only You
Lord I want to yearnYour joy is mine
Yet why am I fine
With all my singing and bringing grain
In light of HimI want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over You and only You
Lord I want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over You and only YouOh You give life and breath
Through Him You give all things
In Him we live and move
That’s why I singLord I want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over You and only You
Lord I want to yearn for You
I want to burn with passion
Over You and only You
Lord I want to yearn(Acts 17:25-28, Hebrews 12:28-29)
What is consuming you this week?
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The Impact of Excess
Wednesday night in Ocean City we went out for supper. It was a family restaurant that served a seafood buffet along with a traditional menu. Our family settled in, and after finding out that our two youngest could eat for free and Ash was the junior buffet, we ordered and promptly began filling plates. (I’m not a big buffet kind of person anyway, but the options on the traditional menu weren’t all that appetizing… then again neither is greasy food that’s been sitting under sneeze-guards.) And our plates were $30 a head. The small town girl in me cringed, but I headed over to the salad bar, because I always do salad first at a buffet. I’m not a girl of routine or anything. Not at all.
Heading back to the buffet for my main course, I looked around and it was like being hit in the face. The excess. The vast amounts of food. The plates piled with enormous portions of pastas and meats and seafood and fries and sweets. I got nauseated, and it wasn’t from my medications. I scooped on a few bites of pasta and headed back to our table in tears.
Because I thought of Mario, our little Guatamalan Compassion child. I spent $30 for one meal for myself. One meal! And that $30 would support a Compassion child for a month. I thought about how many thousands of people ate at that restaurant on that night and how many thousands of $30 could impact hurting people… not just Compassion children, (although Compassion is my soap box).
I’ve thought a lot about this lately… how do I, as Shaun Groves says “simplify my life so that others may simply live”? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
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No Vacation From Gratitude
I think I could have come up with my one thousand gifts just in this past week alone. Here are some highlights.
106. The quiet hours of the morning. Time with Jesus.
107. From the rising to the setting sun, His love endures forever.
Delight mingled with terror as small ones watch the crash of ocean waves from the safety of Daddy’s arms.The deep sleep that accompanies a fruitful day.
Playing in the “big sand box.”
The Lord inhabits my praises.Naps on the beach drenched in sunny warmth.
Red-checked swimsuits with DAISIES!
God’s hand brings us safely through.
New phrases lisping from sweet Audrey.Cousins!
Grace abounds over my sharp tongue and irritable side effects.Full moons. Glowing orbs over calm, dark seas.
Heavy sighs as red curls tuck under Daddy’s chin in peaceful slumber.He is the Beautiful One!
Snuggling with Bri on dark balconies seeing only the white caps of breakers hitting the shore. Surrounded by ocean breezes.“This has been the best day of my life ever!”
Micah-land.
My Pap. Bible in hand.
Building sand castles. Dreaming of knights and dragons and somehow volcanoes and lava got in there, too.
Boogie boards in hand…but not in water.
Long walks on the boardwalk. The bustle of crowds and smell of fries. Huge eyes taking it all in.Brothers.
Grandaddy’s hands.
That smile.
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The Perfect Wave
Apparently, my timing was off. Boogie board strapped to my wrist, knees bent, waiting for the perfect wave. I glanced at Bri, “I always get these wrong.” He laughed and we both watched as the wall of water I had been looking for began to form. It was huge, and I was ready. I jumped on the board just as the wave crested. It was a whole lot bigger than me, and as I began to move forward with the water, my legs were jerked out from underneath me–backward up over my head in an awkward flip. I was immersed in the dizziness of churning water, disoriented, sand stinging my nose and eyes, every sense heightened. I came up spluttering and coughing to see Bri doubled in laughter. Through it all I felt no fear, only joy. As odd as it might seem, I had never felt more ALIVE. And it felt good!
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Wednesday Worship: East To West
Yesterday I watched my boys and their cousins spend hours playing in the surf. I’m not sure what game they were playing, but Ash and Dan would stand sideways, arms raised in a symbol of power, and taunt the ocean, daring it to attack them. You can guess the results of that battle. Over and over they would either run screaming in delightful terror or they would bear the brunt of the assault of a very rough ocean with one or both of them thrown to the sand. It was a game, an adventure, and they loved every minute of it.
I watched them dare the ocean, and I thought about its power and vastness and their futility. It was a battle they would not win on their own. There were times when they would stand firm as the waves crashed over them, but most of the time they fell. There were times when Bri or my brother, Mike, would run to their aid and pick them up away from the danger. There were times when they were literally hurled backward in their forward progress. They would scamper back to our blanket and find a towel to wipe their eyes and rest for a moment. I watched Ben, one of our older nephews, plant his feet, stand sideways and drop his shoulder into a wave only to be literally picked up, twisted in mid-air and flipped under. (I wish I had a video camera for that one!) At the end of the day, the boys were exhausted. They had fought a hard battle, and they dropped into their beds to a deep and very peaceful sleep.
And I thought about my life. About sin. About how often I stand before the vastness of my sin and plant myself firm, even though it seems impossible to defeat. There are days where I am picked up and thrown back in the assault. There are days where I run to the shelter and dry my eyes and rest. There are days when I must have someone pick me up, and pull me to safety as I start drowning in my sin. There are days when I wallow in the surf of my guilt and shame unable to move forward. Days when I drop into my bed exhausted from the onslaught of self. Then there are days when I realize the futility of fighting sin’s tide over and over on my own, and I run away.
The best part? The battle is already won. Just as God placed a boundary for the ocean and allows it to go no further, so He has given a refuge from sin. The cross. And daily I go to the cross and remember. I beg to be rid of myself and to see the glory of His scars. And each night I can drop into my bed in peace. Although I am exhausted from the daily skirmishes I’ve fought, I can rest in full assurance that my sins are forgiven and better yet, forgotten!
This morning it is quiet. I sit on our oceanfront balcony, sixteen floors up, and I gaze at the unending horizon. My Bible in my lap open to Psalm 103, my computer singing worship to me, I’ve thought about the wonder of forgiveness… how far the east is from the west. Casting Crowns sings my heart in their song, East to West. Monica sent this to me during my chemo, and she and I cling to these beautiful truths together. Won’t you cling with us today?
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Here I am Lord and I’m drowning
In your sea of forgetfulness
The chains of yesterday surround me
I yearn for peace and rest
I don’t want to end up where you found me
And it echoes in my mind
Keeps me awake tonightI know you’ve cast my sins as far
As the East is from the West
And I stand before you now as
As though I’ve never sinned but today
I feel like I’m just one mistake away
From you leaving me this wayJesus can you show me
Just how far the East is from the West
Cause I can’t bear to see the man I’ve been
Come rising up in me again
In the arms of your mercy I find rest
Cause you know just how far the East is from the West
From one scarred hand to the otherI start the day the war begins
*End*less reminding of my sin
Time and time again
Your truth Is drowned out by the storm I’m in
Today I feel like I’m just one mistake away
From you leaving me this wayJesus can you show me
Just how far the East is from the West
Cause I can’t bear to see the man I’ve been
Come rising up in me again
In the arms of your mercy I find rest
Cause you know just how far the East is from the West
From one scarred hand to the otherI know you’ve washed me white
Turned my darkness into light
I need your peace to get me through
To get me through this night
I can’t live by what I feel
But by the truth your word reveals
I’m not holding on to you
But your holding on to me
Your holding on to meJesus, you know just how far
The East is from the West
I don’t have to see the man I’ve been
Rising up in me again
In the arms of your mercy I find rest
(The arms of your mercy I find rest)
Cause you know just how far the East is from the West
From one scarred hand to the other (x2)(© 2007 Mark Hall and Bernie Herms. My Refuge Music/Club Zoo Music/SWECS Music (BMI))
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Uncovering
It has been years since we’ve come to the beach during the summer season. We usually try to go in the fall to much less built up and more secluded beaches. As we crossed the bridge into Ocean City, Maryland, the small town girl in me began to cower inside. This may show my lack of comfort with city life, but to see a skyline at the beach intimidates me. As do the strong accents that surround me and the lack of conversation with the people in the elevators or next to us on the beach. No offense my northern friends, but give me my southern shores of North Carolina any day over this!
Something else that intimidates me is the beautiful people in their less that modest swimwear. I knew I would struggle with body image before we got here. My body has gone through a lot of trauma over the past year, and the chemo has aged me in many ways. As I walk down the beach with my husband, there is flesh everywhere. Beautiful people in beautiful bodies, and I want to grab his hand and pull him away, running far from the assault of nudity that surrounds us. The selfish part of me says I do not want him to see what I do not have. The part of me that loves him doesn’t want him to see what could make him struggle. Yet as much as I hate it for him, I am so thankful that he struggles rather than just allowing the culture to take hold of his soul.
I’ve thought a lot about modesty these past weeks as I’ve watched Audrey and joked about how in 10 years we’ll lock her in a closet and never let her out. Even baby girls’ clothing is not exempt from immodesty. How is this possible? I’ve looked around on a Sunday morning at church and wondered “How are we any different?” Not that we need to sacrifice style or modern trends for modesty, but how do we include modesty in our fashion rather than succumbing to the culture? I am shocked at the amount of cleavage that shows up on a Sunday morning, much less anywhere else. As Sophie writes so eloquently, women are “taking their sexy to Sunday School.” And I’ll add to that how our teens are bringing their sexy to youth group, and it makes me ask questions. What are we teaching our children? What messages are we sending to our men? Where are the parents in our children’s lives?
I look around and I find myself getting angry. Angry at our culture and at the lack of respect women have for their bodies and for men. Angry at the lies of Satan that the less we have on the more attractive we are. Angry at a culture that teaches our girls that fashion is a two-piece swimsuit that you have to stuff everything back into every time you move, but “hey, you look good!” Angry at how sin has affected our world so much and how Christians are buying into it. Angry because I want to protect my husband’s eyes and heart and mind, and yet even Christian circles aren’t safe… full of women and teenagers who parade around in essentially their underwear in front of men. Not caring about the impact it has. Not respecting my husband or the husbands of so many others.
Rather than being angry, though, I must choose to go to God and to pray. Pray against a judgmental and legalistic heart. Pray for protection for the heart of my husband. And pray for a world that would turn their hearts back to Him.
Over at Allaccess, Sophie has a great post about modesty that I highly recommend. Read the responses, too, because her post generated a lot of “conversation”. It’s always interesting to me to read and hear other views on this topic. A topic that is not so black and white as some make it, but also not so gray as many others claim. Shouldn’t we be more concerned with being sensitive to others than with crying for our rights and liberty? I also highly recommend the book Christian Modesty And The Public Undressing Of America by Jeff Pollard. It makes you think, and ya’ll know I love books that make me think. Better yet, it makes me pray, and I am praying hard today for my husband, for my brother and father, for all those men who must daily undergo the assault to their visual senses that we women throw at them. And I am praying for a heart that isn’t critical but rather seeks to honor God in my actions and attitudes. May He alone be glorified!
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My Master’s Work
In Luke’s account of Jesus’ healing the paralytic, he sums it up with this verse.
Then everyone was astounded and they were giving glory to God. And they were filled with awe and said, “We have seen incredible things today!” (Luke 5:26)
As I sit here from our 16th floor condo and gaze at the vastness of the ocean. As I sit five feet from the water’s edge and watch eight-foot waves slam into shore. As I close my eyes and hear the thundering crash of the water. And as I listen to the screams and squeals of delight from my children, I echo that amazement.
I have witnessed my Master’s work, and I am seeing incredible things!
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Forever Love
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A Spring of Joy 