Thanksgiving Riches

"Practice the pause and celebrate your blessings this Thanksgiving."

"What an awesome Thanksgiving holiday!! THESE are the things in life that REALLY MATTER!!"

"That's wonderful! He's home for Thanksgiving. That's something to be thankful for!"

"Blessings upon blessings this Thanksgiving!"

From family to friends to the lady at the pharmacy window to the hospital concierge I have been covered in blessings and messages of hope. Not just in my Father's Word, not just in the comfort His Spirit speaks to mine, but in texts, and in flesh and blood hugs, and smiles, and kindnesses --abundant and lavish kindnesses shown to me and my family! And prayers! Oh, the pleas and petitions that you can actually feel from miles away, spoken and lifted before our Lord and Master! 

People are wonderful, and I don't mean to take away from the inner or outer beauty of God's creation, but this is God at work! Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above and comes down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. (James 1:17) These people and their words of encouragement, these encounters are made possible by life's Sponsor, Creator, and Designer! And He has shown His love to every one of us through the birth, substitutionary death, and resurrection of His Son. But His lovingkindness doesn't stop there! If you can imagine that! We see it in His creation, playful squirrels circling trees and the colors reflected off the ocean at sunrise. We hear it in the sound of rain pattering on leaves high up in the tallest trees and pets snoring comfortably at our feet. We smell it in freshly baked bread and our child's hair damp with sweat after romping gleefully in the sun for hours. We feel His lovingkindness in the warmth of a cup of coffee and the crisp cool of fresh cotton sheets. And we taste it in the drop of sweetness that comes from pulling the stigma from a honeysuckle or that special zest of catching a snowflake on your tongue. Best of all, I think, is His lovingkindness seen in the faces of those who will gather around our table today or laugh with us by video call; or the voices and special wishes of those we hold dear, reaching us over the miles. Knowing that they are to us particular blessings, and somehow, we are the same to them. Joined together by a gracious and beneficent Provider who has given us to one another for His glory and our enrichment.

We are as rich as any family can be! Happy Thanksgiving!   

Midweek: Sunroofs Are Better in the Rain

I recently left my old vehicle in dust. (Literally. They're doing construction in our neighborhood, and everything is covered!) She was not really mine --or never felt that way; she was somewhat unreliable, v-e-e-e-r-y quirky, but exactly what was needed for a season. Despite her advanced age, she had all the bells and whistles for her day; one of which --my fave --was heated seats. As our young man and I headed home from one of our last trips in the old girl, we ruminated on the one thing we would be forfeiting, the sunroof. It's actually my husband's favorite feature, a must-have for cruising the interstate on a sunny afternoon. And though I found it fun having the wind blow through my hair a bit, the fiery orb surrounded by whirling planets, the nemesis of black paint and pasty European skin, always seemed to place me in its crosshairs as it blasted its way into the interior of our vehicle. For me it earned its title as a sunroof and not so much a funroof. 

However, there were those trips through the car wash. Water pelting the glass as we remained safe and dry inside. Globules of soap spurting above us like a scene from Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. Whirling, scrubbing brushes thudding as we watched. We dared them to reach us. And in the rain? Droplets of rain bouncing off the glass, collecting and running in rivulets until we picked up speed, when all was whisked away. Even in light showers, we could pop the roof open just a bit, encouraging stuffiness to escape and the smell of rain to flood the car. 

I think Jesus teaches us to be somewhat unconventional in the way we live our lives. He came into this world in a very unconventional way, born to a couple no one would suspect would host and rear the Messiah. He chose His closest associates not from the synagogues of the religious elite, but from shores pungent with the smell of the fishing industry and from backgrounds fairly counter to spirituality and transient proselytizing. He spent hours in prayer despite unlimited miles of travel and multitudes of people wanting His blessing; Scripture makes no mention of a lengthy To-Do list tucked in His tunic pocket. He didn't hurry through meals or conversations; relationships were of the utmost importance. He spoke to those others sidestepped, and sidestepped those others worked to impress. He cradled children and wept with His friends. He caught naps at the most unlikely times. But because He is God, because He "so loves" the world, because He created every square inch of dirt on which He walked, I think it's pretty safe to say He enjoyed life with us. I imagine Him taking time to enjoy the ordinary and entertain the unique, drawing others in to appreciate those things. Hey, did you see that bee over there? Did you know he's got five eyes? Or maybe, Let's head to the widow's house. We'll guide her up the hill to watch the sunset the way her husband did.

I'm trying to be more like Jesus. So, I'm trying to be more intentional in the way I live. I'm trying to slow my pace and take notice of things --smell the roses, as they say. Actually, it's STOP and smell the roses, isn't it? Stopping is important. I'm trying to listen more and speak less. I'm trying to keep in touch with people and pray for them. I'm trying to jump in a few puddles along the way and listen for the clinking-clanging of a passing freight train nearby. I'm trying to allow others to do things for me and with me. I'm noticing the sun on my face and the sound of rain on the roof. And since I'm confessing, our new vehicle has a rear window I tend to pop open every chance I get just to savor the air outside. I'm trying to be mindful of these things so that I can enjoy all that God has given me, yes. But I want to praise Him, I want to give Him the glory --recognize reasons in every moment to give Him glory! Suss them out, call them by name, make mental notes, and do life with others so they can praise Him, too. 

A Passionate Commitment

It's Wednesday morning as I write. I promised someone a phone call today, and those calls are usually pretty lengthy. I have some other things to do --you know, the usual sorts of things one does when they wear clothes or assumes responsibility for meals and things like that. And another friend just texted: she wants to talk. All good things, right? Laundry means we have clothes to wear. Meals mean there is someone to share them with you. And friends and family? Well, we all know what a blessing they are. But here's my conundrum, I have a blog article to write. I have a blog article because, while I normally write weeks in advance of when the article actually posts, I've not been doing that as of late. Days I typically spend holed up in my office with our sweet Luci Blue snoring contentedly beside me, I have been spending with my husband making memories. I am dying. So is my husband. If not, we'd be among the very few exceptions. But recently we've had one of those scares that makes you aware, palpably aware of your mortality. We're not quite out of the woods yet, our hearts are still racing from the alarm so, our senses have been awakened. As is the case with many of these types of jolts, these "Come to Jesus" moments, this has prompted us to make some commitments.

More frequent date nights.

A better diet. More activity.

Greater appreciation for all we have.

And the list goes on. But time is the great revealer of sincerity. In six months, a year, two years, how much of our list will be forgotten? What items on the list will bring us shame to think how we have allowed this revival to grow cold? A doctor who spoke with us suggested a second "birthday" celebration each year as an opportunity to remember the pardon we have been given and to reevaluate the path we are on. A date on the calendar: an appointment with passion and an inescapable reckoning.

That is the very definition of our following of Christ. Emotion drawing us ever nearer; grief, fear, joy, love, wonder, anger, pity, gratitude. And structure, discipline, commitment, circumspection, routine. Passion with practical implementation. Without one or the other, our relationship is cold, dead. Revelation 2 and 3 are God's warnings to the churches. Some had forsaken church discipline and structure; evil had gained a foothold. Some were without passion, doing all the right things but having no real love. We are not one-dimensional beings. The quality of our relationships --with our Savior and with others --depends on our impassioned keeping of commitments. Speaking of which, I have some phone calls to make. Blessings!