Not many days ago I stumbled upon several grownups engrossed in childlike fun, and I asked myself why we don’t do that more.
Why we don’t break away from daily duty to enjoy life more?
The first was a grown man flying a red triangle kit at the park. The kite was enormous – at least three or four feet across – but flying so high it was only the size of a quarter held at arm’s length in the blue CO sky. (I know because I held my arm up to measure.) Continue reading →
I just jumped from my swivel desk chair with a start and raced downstairs to the laundry room to quiet the metallic THWAP THWAP THWAP emanating from my washing machine.
I have one of those still-runs-like-a-champ top loaders. But if I neglect to distribute the towels evenly, the washer barrel takes offense and protests with horrific noises and vigorous scooting, inching the entire washer across the floor with each revolution during the spin cycle.
(Hint: If you leave this problem unattended, the washer wedges the laundry room door shut so you must go out the front door, figure out how to open the garage without car keys which are pinned inside the laundry room, and hope that the other laundry door isn’t blocked too. I speak from experience.)
Some days life feels a little like an imbalanced washer – noisy, scooting us in the wrong direction, holding doors of opportunity shut.
Those are the days we feel over committed or so focused on the small things that life gets a bit wonky.
On days like these we need to grab onto grace and let God reorganize the to-do list– moving this over, taking that out – so life resumes the balance He intended. Good thing He promises all the grace we need for anything we face today!
Dear Poppa,
May today be blissfully free of the noise and distraction of imbalance because we’re relying on Your grace. Help the duties keep their proper places, leaving doors of opportunity wide open, so we have no trouble seeing Your hand at work. And may we be free of agitation, peacefully at rest with the One who never slumbers or sleeps. Amen.
Photo credits: washer girl
I do love a good movie. Give me a bowl of popcorn and a sappy, boy-meets-girl-and-overcome-impossible-odds-to-live-happily-ever-after, and I’m quite happy.
But, I don’t normally expect deep truth there. Until last night when I almost fell off the love seat after hearing:
You’re hoping that when you finally find the courage to trust that your father never stopped loving you, and you tear open that pain you’ve been carrying around, there’s forgiveness inside.
Not too long ago I was struck with a deep thought, halfway between the stationery and the pop at my local grocery store.
Navigating the obstacle course that is the center aisle, I realized I was watching wobbly cart wheels, wan produce, cardboard displays – looking anywhere except the faces of the people I passed.
And the thought struck me . . . Why don’t I really look at people? Why do I go my merry way, skipping around live souls God created? How can I so easily walk past someone without truly seeing her?
I guess it’s just easier that way, easier not to get involved.
I mean, what if they don’t smile back? What if he thinks I’m staring? What if I see something I don’t know how to deal with – like supreme sorrow or listless eyes? What if she actually <gasp> started talking to me?
Or perhaps I’m too wrapped up in myself. Yes, it’s far from pristine, but after all it’s what I think of most of the time – my small, little life.
Or maybe, just maybe, I have nothing to offer them today: no smile, no nod, no hope. Only eyes as empty as theirs might be.
So, I hide behind shyness, glancing at pretty baubles and cardboard – ANYWHERE but at the faces.
Later I read the story of the rich young ruler confronting Jesus, and I’m struck by the little “stage direction” before Jesus’ final line in this scene:
And Jesus, looking at him, loved him. (Mark 10:21)
Here’s Jesus confronted by a man hoping to gain the “Good Teacher’s” approval. Stopped in His tracks by a man eager to brag of the ways he’s been good and done good all his life. Jesus doesn’t laugh at him or nod disappointedly or tell him, “Seriously? You think you’ve kept every commandment perfectly since the day you were born? Oh brother!”
Jesus instead gives the Pause and the Look. He stops and truly SEES the poor, searching, young man. And when Jesus truly sees this man, He loves him.
I want to be so overwhelmed by this same love and grace toward me that I become proficient at the Pause and the Look.
My prayer? That even in a supercenter aisle, Jesus’ love will stop me in my tracks, discard silly only-me thoughts, and overflow onto others so I truly see them, and maybe, just maybe, they catch a glimpse of great grace.
Janna, Grace Embracer
P.S. Have you ever felt like you’re not truly seen?
sign photo: creative commons, courtesy of timlewisnm
child photo: public domain, courtesy of lisa runnels
I stumbled across an amazing testimony this week by a man who got fed up with a religious system that had little to do with God’s heart. Hmm, can you relate too?
See if this strikes a chord, this heart poem from a man who grew up in Christianity but never saw true grace until he realized religion and Jesus aren’t at all the same.
I used to hear preachers claim,
The most important thing about you is what you believe about God.
My mental response was always, “Of course it is! I believe in God.”
But the view from here was of a supreme, all-knowing Being who looked down with a stern, wizened gaze. Never smiling much or laughing – at least not in my direction. Some days I knew He must sigh at my failure. Other times I was convinced He was shaking His head in disappointment.
So, every now and then I’d picture a loving father who cherishes and smiles on me in delight, but it was quickly overshadowed by my fear of disappointing Him.
Maybe my warped view of God stemmed Continue reading →
When I take my Maltese-Yorkie, Buster, on a car ride he adores sticking his head out the window, and I have to confess I’m a sucker for the happy doggy grin he wears when the wind’s in his face.
He gets especially excited when he sees a dog on the sidewalk or a swift bicycler and gets so worked up he’ll jump back and forth over the back seat repeatedly. (Yes, I have a very high-energy dog. You don’t know the half of it.)
Without fail his leash gets stuck between the seats, and he’ll start to whine and scramble frantically with his paws even though the more he frets the tighter his leash sticks. I can’t untangle him until we park, and by that time he’s moping because he has to sit still until I jerk his leash from the seat crack.
I know how Buster feels–stuck in bondage to something I can’t control and can’t escape. Continue reading →
Can I let you in on a little secret? I have a black thumb. No, make that two black thumbs.
As much as I love to cook with fresh ingredients and would adore using fresh produce from my own garden, I’ve come to grips with the truth (only three wilted tomato plants, four dead herb seedlings, a couple of droopy cuttings, a bug-infested apple tree, and one stagnant avocado pit later). The sad truth: I cannot grow things.
I tried this summer, really I did. For the third year, I potted a tomato plant. (Other Coloradans keep telling me how they don’t know what to do with all the tomatoes their voluptuous bushes yield. Yeah, secretly I kinda wanna smack ‘em.)
This year the plant was called Health Kick. You’d think a plant with health in the name would be, well, healthy, and produce beautifully, right? Continue reading →
If God is for us, who can be against us? Rom. 8:31
I got stuck on that tiny 3-letter word, for. So, I looked it up. Know what it means? Being on your side, shielding you, favoring you, furthering your cause. Ever tried to wrap your head around those three short letters: F – O – R?