Ever say this:
"God is good... all the time. All the time... God is good."
I was first introduced to this saying when I attended a wonderful church whose Pastor liked to say the first part and have the congregation answer back the second half. I loved it, and him, and that congregation. Frankly, I hope we all gather in Heaven one day and say that to each other again; for old times sake.
I guess I am kind of sentimental.
Recently I had cause to spend a fair amount of time digging through drawers and files and boxes. I spent hours trying to decide which items were worth saving and which were not. It was a bit of a process.
I went through notebooks with page after page of gleanings from various sermons and seminars and speeches, trying to decipher my notes and determine their worth (or lack thereof ). I reread Bible verses, quotes and book excerpts written neatly on index cards or scrawled on pieces torn from church bulletins and store receipts. And gum wrappers. (Remember those?) I had collected name tags from events and seminars that I had attended over the past two decades.
Next was the big box: I spent hours sifting through thick stacks of notes, cards, drawings and letters that I had received from my children and their children. There were sweet sentiments, heartfelt artistic attempts and more memories than I could handle. (Obviously they all ended up in the "SAVE" pile.)
And then came the journals.
Early in my teen years I began to journal. Every night I would get out my big,fat, olive green, paperback copy of The Way (the hip version of the Living Bible), read a bit and then write in my spiral bound notebook "journal". It was the most consistent, self-imposed thing I did in my life at that time.
(And it seemed a tad more productive than crying myself to sleep at night.)
As I was preparing to get married I did a big "clean out the old... make room for the new" and there was no question of me saving my journals. I didn't want anyone ever reading that stuff!
(But, of course, now I wish I had them.)
Since then my journaling as been less consistent and has taken on forms beyond the "diary"of my teen years.
Within the same journal I have prayer lists and answers to prayer along with scriptural musings, questions and gleanings. Some pages contain prayers written on behalf of my kids or a friend. While others are long, rambling prayers, written out like love letters to my Abba.
I gathered my eclectic collection of journals, dropped into my comfy reading chair, blew the dust off and settled in for a nostalgic turn through the words I had recorded.
I was not disappointed.
The words worked as paintbrushes as each page revealed a piece of my history, brush strokes forming a tear drop here, a smile there; a home bursting with laughter and babies and conflict and babies and sadness and babies.
Many of my prayers were raw and hard and brought me to tears all over again.
Honest to the core, I could feel the hurt, confusion, weariness that engulfed me at times.
There were situations that seemed to have no clear resolution... ongoing times of frustration and hurt.
And I spared no chance to let my Abba know how I felt about it.
Over and over again I questioned His ways and purpose.
But often before the close of my prayer, I had heard the sweet voice of His Spirit and I buckled, prostrate under the Love that was spoken, the care that was promised. I was repeatedly reminded of :
my purpose (to bring Him Glory)
my position (buried under the bloody righteousness of Christ)
my place (right where He put me).
Page after page I saw God at work; not as quick as I would have liked, not the answer I would have liked, and some prayers linger, waiting for resolution.
It may come... it may not...yet.
Closing the back cover of the last journal, I found myself saying out loud:
"God is good, all the time."
"All the time, God is good."
Amen.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
So.Many.Tears.
Nothing has happened.
Not a particular event or conversation-
No memory drug up and revisited-
No reason for the tightening in my chest, the press of overwhelming sadness, tears brimming over my eyes...
Yet here I am
Staring out the window, at nothing in particular, with tears sliding down my face, little testimonies of the ache in my heart.
I don't know if this is a woman thing or a mid-life old lady thing or what kind of "thing" it is...but it is definitely a "me"thing. And it happens a lot.
Sometimes I am wiping my tears and back to normal (well...you know) in no time; my self absorbed reverie interrupted by an impatient buzzer, someone else's need, or a distracting thought.
But other times I linger, feeling each tear push it's way down, dropping into my lap, each tear's track slowly drying and pulling at my cheek until they are used up...for now.
I am well acquainted with tears...we go waaaayyy back!
I have cried a lot of them over my lifetime, some brought on by anger and frustration, or the sting of hurt feelings...the lonely ache of disappointment.
And there have been tears of joy; unexpected kindness, the birth of children and grandchildren, the beauty of corporate worship, the actions of a loving and just God
But there are times when the tears just come, without provocation...with no known catalyst;
welling up and overflowing seemingly of their own volition.
Perhaps they result from inner struggle- issues buried deep beneath a busy life or a happy smile;
the haunting sadness of being misunderstood or rejected, dried up dreams, procrastinated promises, expectations suspended by the thinning threads of hope...my heart warring with issues my mind refuses to acknowledge.
Or maybe the overwhelming, daunting need all around me weighs heavier on my soul than I realized. Hunger, slavery, people abusing each other, the effects of drug abuse, so many people spiraling down a darkening path with no hope, no help. The incomprehensible death of a teenager at his own hands...and the paralyzing guilt that will forever remain behind. Hard things. Things that keep me up at night, grieving for people and desiring to do something, frustrated at the inadequate opportunities to help.
Knowing that what people really need is Jesus...and wondering at my part in that.
There are times when the yearning in my heart for Home and my longing to rest at the feet of my Jesus increase to a point where tears are my only release...my response to a desire so strong and exact that NOTHING else will appease it.
So, on any given day it may be it is one of these things, or all of these things or something else entirely.
I guess it doesn't really matter.
My Heavenly Father is collecting them all, bottle after bottle, until the day His Son wipes the last tear from my eyes.
And then, I am pretty sure I will be smiling.
Revelation 21:4
"...and He will wipe every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying or pain;the first things have passed away."
Not a particular event or conversation-
No memory drug up and revisited-
No reason for the tightening in my chest, the press of overwhelming sadness, tears brimming over my eyes...
Yet here I am
Staring out the window, at nothing in particular, with tears sliding down my face, little testimonies of the ache in my heart.
I don't know if this is a woman thing or a mid-life old lady thing or what kind of "thing" it is...but it is definitely a "me"thing. And it happens a lot.
Sometimes I am wiping my tears and back to normal (well...you know) in no time; my self absorbed reverie interrupted by an impatient buzzer, someone else's need, or a distracting thought.
But other times I linger, feeling each tear push it's way down, dropping into my lap, each tear's track slowly drying and pulling at my cheek until they are used up...for now.
I am well acquainted with tears...we go waaaayyy back!
I have cried a lot of them over my lifetime, some brought on by anger and frustration, or the sting of hurt feelings...the lonely ache of disappointment.
And there have been tears of joy; unexpected kindness, the birth of children and grandchildren, the beauty of corporate worship, the actions of a loving and just God
But there are times when the tears just come, without provocation...with no known catalyst;
welling up and overflowing seemingly of their own volition.
Perhaps they result from inner struggle- issues buried deep beneath a busy life or a happy smile;
the haunting sadness of being misunderstood or rejected, dried up dreams, procrastinated promises, expectations suspended by the thinning threads of hope...my heart warring with issues my mind refuses to acknowledge.
Or maybe the overwhelming, daunting need all around me weighs heavier on my soul than I realized. Hunger, slavery, people abusing each other, the effects of drug abuse, so many people spiraling down a darkening path with no hope, no help. The incomprehensible death of a teenager at his own hands...and the paralyzing guilt that will forever remain behind. Hard things. Things that keep me up at night, grieving for people and desiring to do something, frustrated at the inadequate opportunities to help.
Knowing that what people really need is Jesus...and wondering at my part in that.
There are times when the yearning in my heart for Home and my longing to rest at the feet of my Jesus increase to a point where tears are my only release...my response to a desire so strong and exact that NOTHING else will appease it.
So, on any given day it may be it is one of these things, or all of these things or something else entirely.
I guess it doesn't really matter.
My Heavenly Father is collecting them all, bottle after bottle, until the day His Son wipes the last tear from my eyes.
And then, I am pretty sure I will be smiling.
Revelation 21:4
"...and He will wipe every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying or pain;the first things have passed away."
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Sorry
I am not big on confessing.
I mean, I believe in it and I get that it is important and meaningful and even necessary.
But I don't like it.
I never have.
As a child I really didn't like getting in trouble. My parents disciplined us for sure...but nothing out of the ordinary and certainly not in in proportion to the fear I had of getting in trouble. I really struggled to admit when I had done something wrong.
I was home by myself one day and for some reason I decided to take my temperature.
Remember...I am kinda old, so the thermometer was cool and fun to play with. It was glass and had mercury in it and you could watch it go up and and down...(What do they say about simple minds and amusement?!?)
Anyway, I was playing with it and I dropped it. And it broke; shattered glass and silvery little beads dancing all over the floor. I was immediately panicked! What was I going to do? What kind of trouble was I in? How could I get out of this without owning up to it? (Frankly, that was probably my first thought...not even kidding.) Soooo... I used a paper towel and scooped into the little drawer that goes under the griddle...you know, the one that catches the bacon grease.(I have no idea....) I found a piece of paper, carefully wrote: "I accidentally dropped this. I am sorry.", and displayed both on the kitchen table where my parents would eventually see it. And then I went and hid in my closet. Seriously. I am not making this up.
I would like to think that I have matured some since those days. But I still don't like owning up to my offences and mistakes and sins.
I received a an envelope in the mail a while back; addressed to me with no return address.
I opened it to find a pretty little handmade note card and the only words on the front were: "Sorry". Uh oh.
Upon reading the sentences inside, I discovered that someone had wanted to apologize for a long ago offense and ensuing bitterness and was hoping I was ok with that. I was dumbstruck. I did not even know that this person and I had any issues.
I read it a few more times and then stashed it. Out of sight...out of mind...sorta.
But then I ran into that person a few weeks later. After brief eye contact and a slight, forced smile, I walked on, feeling uncomfortable and awkward.
This wasn't good. I was going to have to respond.
Ugh.
If you've read any of my blogs or know me at all, you are not surprised that I am quite willing to reveal my thoughts and opinions and my general shortcomings. I am usually transparent about who I am etc.; perhaps to a fault. But individual confrontation initiated by me is not a strength. At this point I really just wanted to move on with my life. After all, I hadn't even known this person was holding grudge toward me. Call it blissful ignorance...it was preferred.
But was it what Jesus would do?
*Sigh*
I wrote a note accepting the apology, acknowledging the courage and humility it took to write to me, and offering forgiveness, but only after reminding the person that I too was a sinner, in desperate need of my Father's forgiveness, saved by grace and washed clean in the blood of Jesus.
I hope that was an isolated incident.
It is kinda rough thinking that someone would hold something like that inside for years. I don't want to be the reason that someone festers and grows bitter.
I pray that God would open my eyes to those around me; that I would seek fellowship and friendship and forgiveness.
And that if the occasion arises and it's appropriate, that I would have the humility to say "I'm sorry".
I mean, I believe in it and I get that it is important and meaningful and even necessary.
But I don't like it.
I never have.
As a child I really didn't like getting in trouble. My parents disciplined us for sure...but nothing out of the ordinary and certainly not in in proportion to the fear I had of getting in trouble. I really struggled to admit when I had done something wrong.
I was home by myself one day and for some reason I decided to take my temperature.
Remember...I am kinda old, so the thermometer was cool and fun to play with. It was glass and had mercury in it and you could watch it go up and and down...(What do they say about simple minds and amusement?!?)
Anyway, I was playing with it and I dropped it. And it broke; shattered glass and silvery little beads dancing all over the floor. I was immediately panicked! What was I going to do? What kind of trouble was I in? How could I get out of this without owning up to it? (Frankly, that was probably my first thought...not even kidding.) Soooo... I used a paper towel and scooped into the little drawer that goes under the griddle...you know, the one that catches the bacon grease.(I have no idea....) I found a piece of paper, carefully wrote: "I accidentally dropped this. I am sorry.", and displayed both on the kitchen table where my parents would eventually see it. And then I went and hid in my closet. Seriously. I am not making this up.
I would like to think that I have matured some since those days. But I still don't like owning up to my offences and mistakes and sins.
I received a an envelope in the mail a while back; addressed to me with no return address.
I opened it to find a pretty little handmade note card and the only words on the front were: "Sorry". Uh oh.
Upon reading the sentences inside, I discovered that someone had wanted to apologize for a long ago offense and ensuing bitterness and was hoping I was ok with that. I was dumbstruck. I did not even know that this person and I had any issues.
I read it a few more times and then stashed it. Out of sight...out of mind...sorta.
But then I ran into that person a few weeks later. After brief eye contact and a slight, forced smile, I walked on, feeling uncomfortable and awkward.
This wasn't good. I was going to have to respond.
Ugh.
If you've read any of my blogs or know me at all, you are not surprised that I am quite willing to reveal my thoughts and opinions and my general shortcomings. I am usually transparent about who I am etc.; perhaps to a fault. But individual confrontation initiated by me is not a strength. At this point I really just wanted to move on with my life. After all, I hadn't even known this person was holding grudge toward me. Call it blissful ignorance...it was preferred.
But was it what Jesus would do?
*Sigh*
I wrote a note accepting the apology, acknowledging the courage and humility it took to write to me, and offering forgiveness, but only after reminding the person that I too was a sinner, in desperate need of my Father's forgiveness, saved by grace and washed clean in the blood of Jesus.
I hope that was an isolated incident.
It is kinda rough thinking that someone would hold something like that inside for years. I don't want to be the reason that someone festers and grows bitter.
I pray that God would open my eyes to those around me; that I would seek fellowship and friendship and forgiveness.
And that if the occasion arises and it's appropriate, that I would have the humility to say "I'm sorry".
Monday, January 28, 2013
Emptying Nest
Today I am picking one of my kids up at the airport.
For the past 10 days we have had just one child at home. ONE.
It has been quieter and calmer... and lonelier than ever.
Throughout the past 33 years of parenting there has never been as much "child less" time as now.
I don't like it.
Becoming a mom at 18 (NOT recommended) and being blessed with 6 kids (HIGHLY recommended) over a span of 17 years has filled up my time and thoughts and energy more than I could have imagined.
It has been good; great, in fact.
I love being a mom. I have been given the opportunity to know, love and build into the lives of some amazing kids... well mostly adults now.
When we are gathered as we were this past Christmas, my heart is so full, that seriously (and, I know, kinda corny) I could (and do) cry with happiness.
For one evening we were all here overnight...18 in all, and as I lay in my bed, literally counting my blessings, I poured out my grateful heart to my loving Father. He is so good to me.
But I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say that all that happiness comes with a bittersweet chaser.
Being a mom is what I do. It's what I've done; it's what I know.
And frankly, it is what I love.
Yet it is a seasonal occupation. And even though I have managed to stretch my season out a bit more than some, it is slowly coming to an end.
I know that somehow, there is a purpose for my life that will span the distance between the end of this season and the season of death (and Heaven!!) but at the moment it is a bit unclear as to what it will be.
Being a Grandma rocks too... maybe even a bit more than parenting...except the proximity issue.
For me, that is an obstacle to the quality "Grandmothering" that I desire.
And I am working on that.
It is true that there is much that I once dreamed I would accomplish, experience and know based on inexperience, immaturity and some naivete. And the reality check to some of that produces a sigh, a bit of regret and a smile or two.
But not all.
I still have some goals that I believe, Lord willing, I can realize.
And He has already started to move.
Seemingly disjointed pieces are coming together and the outline of a picture is becoming visible.
God is working. I can see it. And He will continue to; I believe it.
And because of what I know about Him, I know that it will all be good.
So as I stand on the edge of what seems like the beginning of the rest of my life, I search ahead with anticipation , excitement and maybe the slight pull of apprehension, for what awaits.
And I will not stray from the truth in my heart that has driven me and kept me on the path thus far: "God is good. And His mercy endures forever."
And like the old Amy Grant song says:
And all I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.
Any more or less would be a step
Out of your plan.
As you daily recreate me,
Help me always keep in mind
That I only have to do
What I can find.
And all I ever have to be
All I have to be
All I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.
Couldn't have said it better myself, Amy. :)
For the past 10 days we have had just one child at home. ONE.
It has been quieter and calmer... and lonelier than ever.
Throughout the past 33 years of parenting there has never been as much "child less" time as now.
I don't like it.
Becoming a mom at 18 (NOT recommended) and being blessed with 6 kids (HIGHLY recommended) over a span of 17 years has filled up my time and thoughts and energy more than I could have imagined.
It has been good; great, in fact.
I love being a mom. I have been given the opportunity to know, love and build into the lives of some amazing kids... well mostly adults now.
When we are gathered as we were this past Christmas, my heart is so full, that seriously (and, I know, kinda corny) I could (and do) cry with happiness.
For one evening we were all here overnight...18 in all, and as I lay in my bed, literally counting my blessings, I poured out my grateful heart to my loving Father. He is so good to me.
But I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say that all that happiness comes with a bittersweet chaser.
Being a mom is what I do. It's what I've done; it's what I know.
And frankly, it is what I love.
Yet it is a seasonal occupation. And even though I have managed to stretch my season out a bit more than some, it is slowly coming to an end.
I know that somehow, there is a purpose for my life that will span the distance between the end of this season and the season of death (and Heaven!!) but at the moment it is a bit unclear as to what it will be.
Being a Grandma rocks too... maybe even a bit more than parenting...except the proximity issue.
For me, that is an obstacle to the quality "Grandmothering" that I desire.
And I am working on that.
It is true that there is much that I once dreamed I would accomplish, experience and know based on inexperience, immaturity and some naivete. And the reality check to some of that produces a sigh, a bit of regret and a smile or two.
But not all.
I still have some goals that I believe, Lord willing, I can realize.
And He has already started to move.
Seemingly disjointed pieces are coming together and the outline of a picture is becoming visible.
God is working. I can see it. And He will continue to; I believe it.
And because of what I know about Him, I know that it will all be good.
So as I stand on the edge of what seems like the beginning of the rest of my life, I search ahead with anticipation , excitement and maybe the slight pull of apprehension, for what awaits.
And I will not stray from the truth in my heart that has driven me and kept me on the path thus far: "God is good. And His mercy endures forever."
And like the old Amy Grant song says:
And all I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.
Any more or less would be a step
Out of your plan.
As you daily recreate me,
Help me always keep in mind
That I only have to do
What I can find.
And all I ever have to be
All I have to be
All I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.
Couldn't have said it better myself, Amy. :)
Friday, January 18, 2013
So Sleepy
I had a great idea for a blog.
It was really good.
It came to me as I lay in the dark thinking over my day and as I began to shape some thoughts into word and phrases... I fell asleep.
Now... as they say on Duck Dynasty..."It's gone!!" ... with a nice little drawl in the middle.
(I heard that Martha Stewart keeps a notebook by her bed and when she has a great idea, she writes it down... right away. Perhaps I should try that.)
Last night I set my alarm fully intending to get up and head to the gym. (I know... but I was gonna try.)
Ten minutes before the alarm was scheduled to fill my room with it's annoying persistence, I reached over and shut it off, burrowed back down into my amazingly warm and cozy flannel sheets, and fell asleep.
I am a reader.
I love books and I love to read them.
In the past I worked determinedly to carve out reading time from my crazy busy days.
These days time is more plentiful but 20 minutes of reading and ... yup... I am falling asleep. I literally read between dozing.
A new day begins and my mind is brimming with ideas and thoughts and intentions... but it seems that often, before I realize any of them, my day is done and I am back in bed falling asleep.
People talk about how God has taken them through "desert" times. I get that.
I have been there.
But I feel as if I am living in a perpetual "nap" time.
What is up with that??
It could be my age I suppose.
Or maybe I am sleep deprived.
Or lazy.
I know I am weary.
Life is hard.
People disappoint, expectations go unmet, family, friends, desires, needs all vie for priority seating in my life. It all makes me tired.
Somedays I just want to find a blanket to hide under. And stay there.
But life has always been hard. This is nothing new.
My desire for Heaven is stronger than it has ever been. I long to rest at the feet of My Jesus. And just stay there. (Gee... that does sound kind of lazy.)
But as I type, He has not called me home.
I remain here for a purpose. His purpose for my life.
And of all the commands and directives I can find in His Word, I am not finding a lot of encouragement to oversleep. Actually Proverbs is full of warnings to the "sluggard" and the sleepy.
But rest... that's another thing.
Rest and Peace are both found in Christ.
He calls me to trust, to have faith, to believe... to wait on Him.
So... I am not really sure where I am going with all of this. Or if there is some disguised lesson to be learned. (Please... feel free to let me know if I am missing something)
I may just be in a season.
Maybe I need to adjust some things... get back to a balance... go to bed earlier. (I did give up Dr. Pepper... and yes, I am still in mourning.)
Maybe I just need to be more disciplined and intentional.
I will continue to seek to do the things My Father puts in front of me to do... with whatever enthusiasm and energy I have.. looking to grasp His hand to pull me through.
And for now I guess I will just keep on, knowing that He Who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it.
His way... in His time.
Today the sun is shining... which always helps... and I am feeling pretty perky.
Maybe I will go for for a walk... followed by a nap. ;)
*FYI* Several people have asked me what "Sevenly" shirts are. Each week this organization highlights a charitable group and donates proceeds form each sale to that particular charity. This week it is "To Right Love On Her Arms." Go to www.sevenly.org and read all about it. My family LOVES our shirts, hoodies & totes. :)
Thursday, January 3, 2013
I'M BAAAACK!!
Did you miss me?
It's been a year since I last "blogged."
I took a break for lots of reasons...most of which are moot at this point. I have had many topics cross my mind and much interest in writing... but I just wasn't ready. So, I guess I am ready now. Not sure if anyone is interested in reading but I am going to write anyway! :)
Lots of things have come and gone with the past 12 months.
I have gained & lost & gained & lost (you get the idea) a few pounds.
I have more Toms and less high heels in my shoe collection and an ever growing assortment of Sevenly shirts.
Some of my "what I want to be be when I grow up" ideas have changed and some have been discarded all together. I am halfway to 52 now... some things just aren't possible at this point. So, I have set aside some redundant, ridiculous, ideas in favor of more lucid, logical choices.
And Lord willing, I will realize a few of them.
My relationships have also ebbed & flowed with the stream of life. I have experienced birth :3 new grand-babies and several wonderful new friendships; renewal: people who were once a part of my life, back again; and loss: the slight sadness and lingering regret of faded friendships.
But most of all my relationship with My Heavenly Father has lacked consistency and vigor and, I dare say, passion. I have been distracted by myself... and the things with which I am encumbered. Willfully.
I continue to make sinful choices.
I often regret the words that fly out of my mouth.
And I feel the effect of my mediocre attempts to study God Word or spend sparse time with Him in prayer.
But God is faithful, even when I am not.
Throughout this past year, God has taught me so many things about Himself and myself and how He wants me to live.
So as I start this new year, I will shy away from resolutions but embrace some good intentions. (Hey...I know myself!)
I intend to:
use more of my time to study God's Word.
read more of these great books on my book shelves.
encourage others through word & deed (and smiles and cookies and acts of thoughtfulness)
focus less on what I want to do, be, have and more on what I already do, have, am.
consider "what would Jesus do?" more & more & more... and act accordingly.
And I intend to indulge in some of the things I love most: "grandma-ing", reading, writing, sewing, photographing, and spending time with people whom I can minister to and love.
Yup. I am back. And I intend to be busy!
It's been a year since I last "blogged."
I took a break for lots of reasons...most of which are moot at this point. I have had many topics cross my mind and much interest in writing... but I just wasn't ready. So, I guess I am ready now. Not sure if anyone is interested in reading but I am going to write anyway! :)
Lots of things have come and gone with the past 12 months.
I have gained & lost & gained & lost (you get the idea) a few pounds.
I have more Toms and less high heels in my shoe collection and an ever growing assortment of Sevenly shirts.
Some of my "what I want to be be when I grow up" ideas have changed and some have been discarded all together. I am halfway to 52 now... some things just aren't possible at this point. So, I have set aside some redundant, ridiculous, ideas in favor of more lucid, logical choices.
And Lord willing, I will realize a few of them.
My relationships have also ebbed & flowed with the stream of life. I have experienced birth :3 new grand-babies and several wonderful new friendships; renewal: people who were once a part of my life, back again; and loss: the slight sadness and lingering regret of faded friendships.
But most of all my relationship with My Heavenly Father has lacked consistency and vigor and, I dare say, passion. I have been distracted by myself... and the things with which I am encumbered. Willfully.
I continue to make sinful choices.
I often regret the words that fly out of my mouth.
And I feel the effect of my mediocre attempts to study God Word or spend sparse time with Him in prayer.
But God is faithful, even when I am not.
Throughout this past year, God has taught me so many things about Himself and myself and how He wants me to live.
So as I start this new year, I will shy away from resolutions but embrace some good intentions. (Hey...I know myself!)
I intend to:
use more of my time to study God's Word.
read more of these great books on my book shelves.
encourage others through word & deed (and smiles and cookies and acts of thoughtfulness)
focus less on what I want to do, be, have and more on what I already do, have, am.
consider "what would Jesus do?" more & more & more... and act accordingly.
And I intend to indulge in some of the things I love most: "grandma-ing", reading, writing, sewing, photographing, and spending time with people whom I can minister to and love.
Yup. I am back. And I intend to be busy!
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