sunny side up

Until yesterday it had been months since these fingers had scratched out anything on this blog. The silence began with the season of Lent. Not purposely, but when I separated myself from the world of Facebook, most media went with it. It was lovely. And even today, especially today, I'm considering asking my knight to cancel the data package on my phone. I don't want to miss one minute with my girls and my heart aches over how many smiles I haven't returned or times I've responded without really hearing. I'm mulling it around in my head and my main deterrent is how much I love having recipes, sermons and music at my fingertips in the kitchen. For now, I'm praying and trusting God for the self control to just walk away from that which holds no weight in eternity and yet so often has such a hold on me.

But this post isn't primarily about how I need to separate myself from the prongs that the internet and my silly smartphone have on me, this post is about what we have been doing with our time this spring. Mostly, tending our little urban homestead. And because pictures are worth a thousand words, especially my words, welcome to our little house in the not so big city.

Stirring the compost tea

Greenhouse by spring, solar cooker by summer; some of our little plant starts found a perfect home.

The is one of our four chicks, Milly.

Meet all four of our cute new additions: Polly, Milly, Cassidy (in honor of our late, great German Shepherd) and Fish. And yes, Anna named Fish. But the acorn doesn't fall too far from the tree because Grandpa Gibson has a horse named Fish. And it is just suiting that Anna, who looks like and is just as crazy as Grandpa, would name a chicken after a horse named Fish.

Our new favorite past time chick watching.

All three girls helped prepare for and now care for the chickens. From cleaning the chick's brooder to building the coop for our older hens, they have been such sweet helpers.

This was taken when 0everyone was happy right before the pine shaving war.

Our fantastic little coop. Designed and built by my knight...with a little muscle from some good friends.

One of the two hens we adopted from friends. Meet Arwen. Her partner in crime Eowyn may have been off fighting Nazguls. (Addy named them after the two main heroines in Lord of the Rings.)

Our first egg. It really is magical walking outside each day to find two big brown eggs. We can't wait until there are six laying hens!

And this photo, just because I can't get enough of this little bug.

The evening we brought the chicks home and settled them in their brooder Addy whispered as she watched them "Papa, I'm so happy I could cry."  Though there are days where pine shaving wars turn into slivered eyes and walks through lush spring grass bring the squish of chicken po between ours toes, we are so grateful for all that God has entrusted to us. Mainly, our three little chicks. And for the chance to be their mama, I must say "I'm so happy I could cry."

the basket

In the last five years I have eaten a lot, and I mean a lot of luke-warm and even {sigh} cold meals.  For approximately five years and two months, I have cast the cold-meal-blame entirely on the fact that I have children. Whether nursing a baby or playing a perpetual game of jack-in-the-box to "Mama, may I have a napkin? Can someone pass the salt? Wait, there isn't any salt? Is there any butter for the bread? Oh, mama, aren't we going to read while we eat?" there has always been something that has kept me from enjoying my seat.  One might think that after 5 years I would have done something to remedy this problem but it was just much simpler to complain. And cast blame.
 
Simultaneously occurring over the past five years, was my indecision over a center piece. To have or not to have? Practical or aesthetically pleasing?  I've tried all sorts of things from fruit bowls to candles.  Most of them are short lived because in all honesty, I love an uncluttered, clean table.

Last month I saw a photo of a napkin basket that a family keeps on a hutch near their table.  We don't have any space for additional furniture around our table so I almost didn't think twice about the basket. Suddenly a wave of genius washed over me. Moments of genius are fleeting these days so I captured and executed quickly.

I call it the basket of all things. But now that I look at the photo, it should be called the tray of all things.

Sorry for my out-of-focus photo. I haven't blogged in months primarily because I started this post and never finished it because this photo was out of focus and I intended to retake the picture. Seriously? Yes. Seriously.

On this tray that I love but was not getting enough use, you'll find most of the things that keep me hopping during a meal: salt & pepper, a butter dish, napkins, trivets, whatever book we are reading during meals, (right now it is the Gospel story Bible which we highly, highly recommend!), my own Bible, some flashcards, a camera, and a spatula. I snagged and emptied a basket from our office that held miscellaneous to-be-filed papers and added it to the tray to contain most of the random items.  I finished the presentation with a little candle for now, but this summer, it may be a small vase of flowers. 

While I still have to occasionally pop up for this or that, it certainly isn't as frequent and most days, my food is warm when I eat it. And, because everything is completely contained on the tray, which I set on a place mat, it can all be removed from our table at one fell swoop.

So there you have it. Simple, useful, practical and sort of, pretty.  All in all, perfect for us.

Mediterranean 7 Layer Dip + a lesson

Within moments of my post yesterday on how God used Mediterranean 7 Layer Dip to begin a radical change in my heart, I had several requests for the recipe.  The requests made me laugh, but it is a worthy recipe to be shared.  Per your request dear friends...

Mediterranean 7 Layer Dip 
(adapted from Southern Living at Home)

Ingredients:

2, 15 oz cans of black beans (rinsed, drained, mashed) or 3ish cups of hummus (I always use hummus)
1/2 cup chopped tomato
1/2 cup chopped cucumber
1/3 cup chopped olives (you can use black or Greek)
1/4 cup chopped green onions (I only use the green )
2 TBS olive oil
1 tsp Greek Seasoning
1, 4 oz package of tomato basil feta (regular works fine too!)

In a pie plate or 9 inch square dish:

Spread hummus or mashed beans in the bottom of the pan. Mix the tomatoes and next 5 ingredients (I add some minced garlic as well) in a separate bowl. Spread over the beans. Top with feta. Serve with pita chips.
 
This recipe is so easy to make a large batch in a 9 x 13. And honestly, I never measure: some tomatoes, some cucumbers, some olives, etc, etc.

And as for the Greek Seasoning. I laughed out loud when I realized that my life was turned upside down over a TEASPOON!  If you aren't quite ready for dramatic change, although it is highly encouraged, below is the recipe for homemade Greek Seasoning:

Greek Seasoning 

(store remaining for up to 6 months)

 

1 1/2 teaspoons dried oregano

1 teaspoon dried mint

1 teaspoon dried thyme

1/2 teaspoon dried basil

1/2 teaspoon dried marjoram (I don't think I have ever had marjoram or used it in this recipe)

1/2 teaspoon dried minced onion

1/4 teaspoon dried minced garlic

{lessons} from the spice aisle

Last night I had the privilege of sharing my heart with a group of dear women. After exchanging messages on Facebook back and forth one afternoon my friend,  Lori, who leads the group called Keepers of the Home, asked if I would read the messages we had exchanged aloud at the monthly meeting.  Butterflies aside, I eagerly agreed because what I had written to her that afternoon was so much of my heart and deepest convictions.  For my friends who couldn't make it last night, here is a roughly edited version of my response to Lori when she posed the question, "What rights and expectations has the Lord shown you the need to yield to Him?" 

When we were first married, God used Greek Seasoning of all things in my life to teach me to surrender. A dear friend was getting married a mere 56 days after we got married and they were such a help in our wedding preparations, I really wanted to throw her a fantastic wedding shower, complete of course with Mediterranean 7-Layer Dip. (Because all great wedding shower have Mediterranean 7-layer dip)  The man of my dreams and I went to the store as happy as newlyweds can be. At least until we made it to the spice aisle.  The Greek Seasoning I needed was $6. At the time we were living on love and not much else and my husband had much greater vision for the future than I. He knew we had only a month’s more rent or so and that $6 was a lot to spend on seasoning.  In my heart I wrestled with him, thinking he was stingy, because REALLY, what is $6?? And seriously, was God asking me to submit over seasoning? Wouldn't a good God want me to serve Mediterranean 7 layer dip at a friend's wedding shower? My husband was surely wrong.  I shed a few tears in the grocery store aisle. 

Now it seems so trivial in light of eternity but even that disagreement about a spice was God gently (or not so gently) peeling back the layers of my flesh.  Ultimately my struggle wasn’t just about submitting to my husband in the area of finances, it was rooted in my mistrust in God and His goodness.

In a nut shell, the root of laying down all my rights was intertwined with what seems redundant "the right of entitlement." I think when we hold on to all the things we think we are entitled too (a husband who is a servant leader, children who show fruit of faithful discipline, a comfortable home, our own time, space, etc,etc) rather than holding on to what we have been given: grace--unearned, undeserved favor and kindness, and mercy--not getting what we do deserve, which is eternal separation from God himself. When God gave me the grace to see that what my sinful nature deserves is hell, and yet He not only justified me, proclaiming me NOT guilty through the blood of His Son, but He also calls me His own, a daughter, an heir…

EVERYTHING became grace. 

When we realize that because of our sinfulness we are really only “entitled” to hell, and yet He lifts us out of the pit because of His great love, not because we have a "right" to any of it, our hearts become soft, humble, and more gracious with all of those perceived "violated rights" we have. I still struggle daily, that feeling of "but God...I, I, I", and by His grace He leads me daily, often a dozen or two dozen or a hundred times a day to the foot of the cross where He says "I AM that I AM, and it is finished."

I twinge now when people use the phrase "you deserve it!" when someone is blessed with anything: a promotion, a spa afternoon, a night off, really anything "out of the ordinary," because it removes the glory from a gracious God who gives gifts and puts it on us "see what I have done!!"

I believe that having a right understanding of God's abundant grace, and our sinful nature, brings a hope, joy and peace that transcends all understanding and gives us the ability to say that all is grace...the diapers, the sleepless nights, the job-losses, the illnesses, all of it...because God is good and His promises are true that "all things work together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose." When my heart is right before the Lord, I am humbled at all that He gives and when its not, I become indignant thinking "but I have the right to ____, but I've worked so hard, Lord, it wasn't supposed to be like this because I..."

When we focus on the fact that the God of the Universe has called us His own for His own glory and for the satisfaction of our souls, our hearts are inclined to look at scripture and those around us and ask "what are my responsibilities with all that I have been given?" rather than the question "what are my rights?"

So that was a super long winded to say that all of the tangible examples I could give of laying down rights (from finances, to child rearing, to personal time, to sex) are all my laying them down at the foot of the cross because I realize I'm not entitled to anything, rather lavishly blessed with far more than I deserve.

As believers, especially as women, we really feel entitled to so much. But our Example, Maker and Savior, for the joy set before Him endured the CROSS, bore the cup of wrath that was meant for us and laid down His life as a ransom!!

That is what we are privileged with...the gift of being able to lay down our lives for one another, to suffer for His name's sake for the JOY set before us!!! Which is why whenever I'm struggling I go to the whole of Romans 8 but especially the last half.

So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.
    For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us... 

...Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
    Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.
    What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written,
    “For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
        we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”
    No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
(Romans 8:12-39 ESV)

As A.W. Tozer says in Knowledge of the Holy "What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us." The heading of his first chapter, "Why We Must Think Rightly About God." A few paragraphs in, he says "A right conception of God is basic not only to systematic theology but to practical Christian living as well. It is to worship what the foundation is to the temple; where it is inadequate or out of plumb the whole structure must sooner or later collapse...The man who comes to a right belief about God is relieved of ten thousand temporal problems...

That's it!! Having a right view of God effects EVERYTHING.

Wendy Alsup parallels what Tozer was saying

"Don't be content with the Christian desk calendar approach to Christianity. Don't be satisfied with a daily practical saying or some three-step process for being a good wife or a better friend. God has both called you and equipped you to know him. We have no excuse to remain ignorant of his character. Seek God's face. Understand his character. Pursue knowledge of him, for apart from the 'fear of the Lord' and 'the knowledge of the Holy One' (Proverbs 9:10) we have no hope for being a wise mother, sister, wife or friend…knowing our God and understanding His character are essential tools that enable us to exercise wisdom in our daily lives. As we study who God is and what he does, we are equipped to deal with the big and small issues of life. Knowing God and acting in faith in light of those beliefs is key to a life pleasing to God. Know him, and then act like you know him, that is faith."

I needed to know years ago in that grocery store aisle, that my problem wasn’t just having a wrong view about submission to my husband, but having a wrong view of God and myself. The only "right" I have is Christ's righteousness over me and even then it is not of myself but a gift of God!! As Ephesians 2 says:

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God,

So sisters,  as Lori moves on to talk specifically about the rights we think we have and tangible areas of our lives that need to be surrendered at the foot of the cross, remember Romans 8, "What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?"

We can and should labor together to keep each other accountable, encourage one another to know who God is and then act like it. We need to encourage one another to ultimately find our hope and peace in the knowledge that God is a God who spared not His own son so that sinners like us, would be saved.  For when we fail, struggle, see our sin, we need to surrender it at the foot of the cross--even if it is hundreds of times each day-- and be reminded of what God has done for us because of His great love.  Its only then we can do just what Lori says “the next right thing.”  And we do the next right thing not because of what it says about us, or Lori’s mentoring, or anything else, but because of what it says about our good, gracious and Holy God.

{Home} is where the heart is...

Considering that we probably miss an average of 8 weeks per year for holidays and sick weeks, we have been hosting a weekly gathering in our home for roughly the last 300ish weeks. (That's almost weekly for about 7 years, so you don't have to figure out the math.)

My response when I did the math:

Nuts! That's crazy!

Joel and I believe greatly in the importance of meeting in small groups (especially within a church body) to really walk out all week what we hear with our ears and profess to believe on Sundays and so we *mostly* willingly open our home each week.

I tell you this only because there have been roughly 300 weekly opportunities for my heart to grumble and complain and even as I think about tomorrow being Wednesday there is a part of me that thinks "alright, here we go again." While I love opening our home, I definitely grow weary at times. I read the post below this week at girltalk and was reminded once again of the reason we open our home each week.

Show hospitality to one another without grumbling." 1 Peter 4:8-9

How do we practice hospitality cheerfully instead of begrudgingly? We remember the why: We practice hospitality because we have first received hospitality.

“Grace is the hospitality of God to welcome sinners not because of their goodness but because of his glory,” explains John Piper:

“The ultimate act of hospitality was when Jesus Christ died for sinners to make everyone who believes a member of the household of God. We are no longer strangers and sojourners. We have come home to God. Everybody who trusts in Jesus finds a home in God.”

If we have trusted in Jesus, we have found a home in God. We were once strangers, alienated from God because of our sin. But through the suffering of Jesus Christ, we have been brought near to God. We are not strangers anymore.

We have received the ultimate act of hospitality! How can we not, in turn, show grace and love to others by extending hospitality to strangers?

When we truly understand the gospel, the amazing, undeserved love that has been shown to us, we will find a powerful incentive to show hospitality that will conquer every hindrance or reluctance. Reflecting upon Christ’s lavish hospitality will compel us to joyfully show hospitality to one another.

Reflecting upon Christ’s lavish hospitality will compel us to joyfully show hospitality to one another.

In the midst of the 300ish weeks of having an open door, I was convicted at about the 250ish mark (yep, I'm slow to learn) that so often while our door may have been open, my heart was dead-bolted shut. I was deeply convicted that the state of my floors was inconsequential when compared to the state of my soul and that when I hurried past an early-comer without even making eye contact so I could finish my "to-do's" of tidying and putting children to bed, I was missing much more than a moment of kindness. I was missing the entire point.

Once the gracious God who opens His door to faithless sinners like me gently showed me my hardened heart, I found really practical must-knows and tangible to-dos to prepare my heart and our home for welcoming whomever comes a knockin' each week:

• I Prepare. Expect the unexpected. There is not continual grace for being unprepared and in a hurry. People have been coming to our home for 7+ years; I should not treat this fact like it is a weekly surprise.  The unexpected will happen every Wednesday. It should be expected: a child will need extra attention, the husband will have a meeting that goes late, dinner will take longer to cook, something will break, messes will fall like manna.  It took over 5 years for me to realize that in order to make sure my heart is in the right place come 7:30pm on Wednesday, preparation needed to begin days before hand.
• I keep it simple. I make a weekly menu, let a slow-cooker or soup pot cook for me. I try not to plan anything extra (like play dates, errand running, etc.)  
• I know that people are creatures of habit. They will most likely sit in the same seats each week so as I put out our folding chairs, fluff pillows on the couch, or setup a playpen in the spare room, I start preparing my heart by praying for those who will be seated hours later.
• I try to engage children in the preparations. I have our girls help cook, tidy, and pray for our friends.  And by God's grace, I do it with a happy heart so they learn by example that opening one's home is a joy!
• I've started to delegate. That guy that comes early? Taught him how to grind coffee. (We love you, Tyler!) I call for help when I don't have time to make goodies or (gasp!) sometimes we don't have an edible treat. And you know something? People still come back.
• I know that there have been and will be weeks when nothing but the love of Jesus and the some good old fashioned solitude are the only things that will get our family to Thursday. So we cancel, reschedule, or change locations. And when the temptation to cancel indefinitely arises, we pray, thank God for the dear souls who grace our home each week and start preparing in advance for the next week.
• Penultimately, I remember that people aren't going to notice whether or not my floors are spic and span, or if I've dusted this week season. They will however notice my shoulders sagging, impatient tone with my family or flustered demeanor.
• And ultimately, in all things, I hope to remember that the why is much greater than the how.

We remember the why: We practice hospitality because we have first received hospitality.

“Grace is the hospitality of God to welcome sinners not because of their goodness but because of his glory,” explains John Piper:

“The ultimate act of hospitality was when Jesus Christ died for sinners to make everyone who believes a member of the household of God. We are no longer strangers and sojourners. We have come home to God. Everybody who trusts in Jesus finds a home in God.”

Until we are home for good, may our homes be glimpses of what is to come.

a very, merry belated Christmas to you...

Dearest Family, Friends, Neighbors (and blog-friends!),

It has been six years now, beginning this Christmas letter and abandoning it unfinished. Each year we start with great intentions of sending you more than a photo and each year we finally surrender, stuff the envelopes and send a picture thinking “next year.” Our great intentions give way to necessity as our Decembers are always full of activities, holiday preparations and really just the day to day needs in caring for our little ones. Like the previous years, Christmas and New Years have come and gone, but this year is different. Addy is now old enough (5!) to pester us and so daily we hear “have you finished the letter, have you finished the letter?” So here we sit mid-January.

The last six years have been a whirlwind. Joel continues to make our corner of the world more energy efficient, Karli has the privilege of staying at home and serves as Chief Operating Officer of Stobie, Inc. and our girls are now 5, almost 4 and 18 months. Needless to say, each day is an adventure in itself. Addy is remarkably precocious, keeps us on our toes and spends most days in character as Sacajawea, Laura Ingalls or Eowyn from Lord of the Rings. Anna is adventurous, mischievous and we joke about how she keeps us on our knees in prayer. Like her older sister, Anna is almost always in character, only for her it is Maria Von Trap from The Sound of Music or Rapunzel. Her laugh is infectious and she brings such joy to our family. Charis is not far behind either sister. She has very few words yet (her older sisters monopolize the air space) but is remarkably able to clearly communicate! She is content and stoic. We call her “the great grocery store disappointment” because she never smiles at strangers but she is actually quite silly. Our home is full of song, dance and constant chatter. Did we mention constant chatter? Blessed far beyond what we deserve, we thank God daily for the gift of children. We delight so much in whom they are created to be and we are convinced it is we who are learning the most from them.

We started the tradition a few years ago of taking the traditional time of Advent (the four weeks leading up to Christmas) to prepare our hearts, and our children’s hearts for what we believe Christmas is truly about…the birth of Jesus Christ. What started as a haphazard attempt has become such a joy in our house as the girls delight in meals by candlelight as we read stories from the Old Testament that point to Jesus’ birth. This year to begin Advent, I had a conversation with the girls about what Advent means. Advent simply means “coming.” In the case of Christmas, we celebrate Christ’s coming and not just that he came, but the reason he came.

Addy was so excited, she wanted to put our coats on right then and there and go tell each of our neighbors. She couldn’t comprehend that we would want to wait one minute to tell people about Jesus. How much we have to learn from our children! So this Christmas as we celebrate Christ’s birth, we want to share with you what moved our little Addy to snatch up her coat—the reason Jesus came.

We start by saying that we recognize not everyone who receives this letter believes the same things that we do about God, Jesus, and the like. However, in the last five or six years our once comfortable faith has been challenged deeply, and because of that, we have become more convinced about the reality of who God is, who we are in relation to him, and what we are to do about it. A few years ago we were challenged with the thought that if we really believe that what we believe is really real, it should affect everything about the way we live. We have become more convinced that eternal things are infinitely more important than temporal things, and because of that, if we merely left you with the joys of our past year and the hope we have for next year, we wouldn’t truly love you…stay with us.

If you knew a source of exceeding happiness and you did not tell your friends because you were unsure of their reaction or likewise, if you were convinced that a disaster of some sort was about to come upon someone and you did not tell them, you would really be saying to the person “you really don’t matter that much.” We believe both of these things are ever upon us. We are never promised tomorrow; accidents, disasters, disease are an ever present reality. And we are convinced that exceeding joy and freedom from condemnation are given freely to those who love God with all their heart, soul, mind and strength.

At this point, you may want to stop reading for one of two reasons. You may think “oh, I already know about God” and I am good. But if someone who truly knows God does not love him enough to read about his work in another person, then perhaps that person may not know God as they ought. Another might say “Why do they believe these stories, don’t they know that it has been proven that man does not need God?” To you, we would say, read on friends. We have learned in the last several years, that faith in God is very reasonable and would even suggest that it is actually the most logical of all options of belief (even unbelief is belief that there is nothing to believe in).

In summary, the good news proclaimed by the angels to the shepherds in the Christmas story is this: God is. He exists, he always has and he created everything. Everything around us is too complex and wonderful to come haphazardly from nothing. This includes people which have souls that will live forever. We recognize this when we see two distinct persons that are genetically identical twins. This creator, who created us with a soul, is the only reason we have a concept for goodness or kindness or love, because he is the One from whom all things originate. Because of this, God is infinitely worthy of our utmost respect, affection and passion. But in reality, all of us reject this every minute of every day. Our default position is one in opposition to our Creator; we are constantly giving our respect, affection and passion to what we see in the mirror, the things we build with our own hands or the “stuff” we acquire-- really anything other than God. This is ultimately treason against the only one worthy of our utmost affections, and we deserve a traitor's death. "For the wages of sin is death" (Romans 6:23a.)

You might say, “Really? In a Christmas letter? This is a terrible thing for you to tell us about on Christmas!” Yes, indeed, but the good news that counters this bad news is the very reason we celebrate this Holyday.

The good news is this: Jesus Christ became God in the flesh to take the treasonous death away from his people and die the traitor’s death for them. "For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 6:23). Eternal life full of exceeding joy is the free gift of God for those who will trust that Christ's death was on their behalf. Just like the wise men of old brought gifts of unspeakable value to this humble king, the only acceptable offering that we can bring to God is the full payment for our treason. This can only be found in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.

Our prayer for ourselves and each of you is that we would all have hearts that will trust in what we cannot see, and eyes to see what has been shown to us.

As author, J.I. Packer wrote “This Christmas message is that there is hope for a ruined humanity- hope for pardon, hope of peace with God, hope of glory- because at the Father's will Jesus Christ became poor and was born in a stable so that thirty years later he might hang on a cross. It is the most wonderful message that the world has ever heard, or will hear.”

We love you all, and hope that in this New Year you will find hope, peace and delight for your souls in knowing Christ Jesus as Lord and Savior.

 
The Stobies

sweet sugar cookie goodness

For as long as I can remember, each December, my mother and I engage in a giant Christmas goody baking extravaganza. And now our girls look forward to baking day with Grammy. We just love her.


Our day normally consists of at least 12 hours of baking and at least half as many pounds of butter.  We haven't had our annual baking day yet this year, but I just couldn't wait to share our sugar cookie recipe.  They are hands down my favorite sugar cookie--ever. 

Please note that this isn't the easiest recipe if you plan on using cookie cutters, the dough is a bit moist.  But we would sacrifice Christmas tree and bell shaped cookies in a heart beat for these. And the girls don't mind...colored frosting and sprinkles still apply!  Part of their goodness is the cookie paired with the Cream Cheese Frosting recipe below.  Trust me.  You'll want to make these for every holiday.  Last year I couldn't wait until Christmas so I made orange and brown "harvest" cookies. 

When you see the recipe don't be alarmed. We don't eat like this the rest of the year and I did sneak sweet potato AND beet puree into our grass fed, organic beef taco meat the other night knowing that Christmas goodies were a comin.'  These are not for the faint of heart or for any of my paleo-eating cavemen friends.

But for the rest of you...Enjoy. (And you'll want to make a double batch. They freeze beautifully and we even love to eat them frozen!)


Sweet Sugar Cookie Goodness

1 cup butter
1 cup canola oil (I often use coconut oil and call them "Hint o' Coconut" Sugar Cookies)
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup powdered sugar
2 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla

• Cream the above ingredients until thoroughly mixed and fluffy

Add:
1 teaspoon Cream of Tarter
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
4.5 cups of flour

• Mix well
• Roll dough into 1 inch (or larger balls)
• Flatten slightly with glass cup
• Bake at 350° for 10 minutes 
• Remove from oven and let set 2 minutes or so 
• Remove from tray and cool completely on a baking rack

 Frost with:


Cream Cheese Frosting
1/2 cup butter
3 oz Cream Cheese
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups powdered sugar

•  Cream above ingredients for at least 5 minutes
• Separate into bowls and add desired food coloring
• Blend with a fork or firm whisk
• Smather all over the sugar cookies
• And don't forget the sprinkles. They are somehow connected to the hearts of little girls.

Finally, it doesn't matter how terrible you think these cookies look your guests, neighbors and own bellies will. not. care.  I promise.

knocking on Mercy's door

I woke this morning feeling weary, tired and not at all ready to face the day. There is an achy tightness between my shoulders formed by the feeling of helplessness coupled with hours upon hours of holding a baby on my hip. I stumbled downstairs, quickly tried to make semblance of a breakfast and lunch for my knight, poured a cup of coffee and crumpled into a chair.

It has been ten days, the recent five most arduous, of having a sick babe. First a cold, then croup, now our doctor says viral pneumonia. It isn't the carrying, the holding, the uncertainty of the next moment that weighs most on me but the helplessness--my absolute inability to provide any comfort to her. It isn't the helping that causes my weariness but the not being able to help--seeing and hearing her discomfort but not being able to relieve her, watching her older sisters try to fend for themselves but knowing that they need me as well. My arms full of a baby that doesn't want to be held or to be put down.

Cracking open my Bible, I pleaded with the Lord to meet with me this morning knowing that in my own strength, I wasn't going to make it through breakfast. I read in Matthew 7

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!" 

I was reminded that all I really need is met by merely knocking at mercy's door.

And so in Spurgeon's words my soul knocked hard this morning. I sat there in my chair gripping my coffee cup, holding on to scripture, clinging to His grace. There with two little girls at my feet beneath the twinkling lights of our Christmas tree reading their own Bibles, I sat still before His throne of grace and I did not move. I stayed there until my heart was spread before the Lord and I knew, that I knew, that I knew, He was and would continue to be faithful to keep His promise of giving good things to those who ask Him.

And boy did I ask Him.

While ultimately I'd love spontaneous healing for her, and I believe He is more than capable, I also know that many times His mercy is found in the not-healing of bodies because what ultimately needs healing is our hearts.  It isn't a matter of trusting that God can heal the small body He created but not trusting that He can and will give me the grace I need to make it through another day with a sick baby.

I knocked hard.

In the moment after I surrendered and tension between my shoulders gave way as my Father's arm of grace settled around me, the moment of peace was broken by that little cough barking through the monitor. Before my confidence could wane I reminded myself that mercy's door was open fully regardless of Charis' health.

With my heart laid open before my good Father, I knew that whatever was to be given to me today was not going to be a snake.

She coughed again.

I retrieved our little one from her crib and she snuggled into my chest quietly. Her silence a telltale sign that she still felt terribly. For a moment, the tension returned to my shoulders. Oh how my flesh so quickly forgets God's promises. I can't even make it upstairs and back down without forgetting He is good.

Yet He is faithful though I am not.

Suddenly our morning changed gears and a dearest of friends appeared to "kidnap" the older girls to give them attention and a place to play and their mama a respite as well. She came bearing Starbucks. And then told me she was returning my children this afternoon accompanied by our dinner for this evening. I bit my lip to keep the tears from flowing.

No snakes here--only mercy.

After a brief nap, Charis awoke and couldn't be consoled so I bundled her up and took her outside, the one place she is always happy. The two of us circled our neighborhood in the bright sunlight, our noses turned pink from the cold and she smiled. And then she giggled.  As we walked drinking in the lung-opening cold air and blinding Vitamin D, my mind got stuck on repeat and over and over again I sang the old song

I cry out
For your hand of mercy to heal me
I am weak
I need your love to free me
O Lord, my rock
My strength in weakness
Come rescue me oh Lord

You are my hope
Your promise never fails me
And my desire
Is to follow You forever
For You are good
For You are good
For You are good to me

More than likely it will be a long few weeks but I'll keep knocking because I know that mercy's door is always wide open. And I know that on the days when I don't feel the strength to knock, He will remind me that mercy has already come.

In the midst of sickness, we celebrate Advent which simply means coming. Mercy coming. Grace coming. Truth coming. His coming. Christ came once as a humble babe for the purpose of living the perfect life that we cannot, so that He could be the perfect sacrifice we could never offer. He came to bear the weight of sin and absorb the fullness of God's wrath for His people's sin, so that we might live. For while we were yet sinners, Christ died. There swaddled in the manger and later hanging on the cross, Jesus is God's grace to us--the gift we cannot earn and do not deserve and the one who opens mercy's door.

Our Father who is the giver of all good things did not withhold His own son.

Mercy's door is wide open. Knock.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified. What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? ~ Romans 8:28-32 ESV

{thanks} giving...

Weeks fly by, time swept up in visitors, birthdays, projects and treasured moments of peace.  These days my brain swims with thought and I've struggled to write with clarity. So for your benefit, I haven't written at all. :)

Even today, I don't have time to order the chaos but thought in this week of thanksgiving, I'd share treasures from others that I've been stewing on.

It must be an odd feeling to be thankful to nobody in particular. Christians in public institutions often see this odd thing happening on Thanksgiving Day. Everyone in the institution seems to be thankful "in general." It's very strange. It's a little like being married in general. ~ Cornelius Plantinga, Jr.

To thank God in all is to bend the knee in allegiance to God Who alone knows all. To thank God in all is to give God glory in all. Is this not our chief end?
When I only give thanks for some things, aren’t I likely to miss giving God glory in most things?
Murmuring thanks isn’t to deny that an event isn’t a tragedy and neither does it deny that there’s a cracking fissure straight across the heart.
Giving thanks is only this: making the canyon of pain into a megaphone to proclaim the ultimate goodness of God. Ann Voskamp

Gratitude is more than delighting in a gift. It is more than feeling happy that you got something you wanted. For example, if you give that ten year-old the electronic game, he might just rip open the package, say, "Wow," and walk away and start bragging how much better his game is than his neighbor's. He might not even give a thought to the kindness you did for him in giving him the game. He delights in getting the gift, but he is still an ungrateful child because his delight is not directed to you the giver. So gratitude is more than delighting in a gift. It is a feeling of happiness directed toward a person for giving you something good. It is a happiness that comes not merely from the gift, but from the act of giving...

At the root of all ingratitude is the love of one's own greatness. For genuine gratitude admits that we are beneficiaries of an unearned bequest; we are cripples leaning on the cross shaped crutch of Jesus Christ; we are paralytics living minute by minute in the iron lung of God's mercy; we are children asleep in heaven's stroller. Natural man hates to think of himself in these images: unworthy beneficiary, cripple, paralytic, child. They rob him of all his glory by giving it all to God. Therefore, while a man loves his own glory, and prizes his self-sufficiency, and hates to think of himself as sin-sick and helpless, he will never feel any genuine gratitude to the true God and so will never magnify God, but only himself. ~ John Piper

And in case there is any question of what ultimately we have been given and the character of the Giver Himself...

He gave us Jesus. Jesus! Gave Him up for us all. If we have only one memory, isn't this one enough? Why is this the memory I most often take for granted? He cut open the flesh of the God-man and let the blood. He washed our grime with the bloody grace. He drove the iron ore through His own vein. Doesn't that memory alone suffice? Need there be anything more...If trust must be earned, hasn't God unequivocally earned our trust with the bark on the raw wounds, the thorns pressed into the brow...all gratitude is ultimately gratitude for Christ, all remembering a remembrance of Him.  ~Ann Voskamp

May each of you enter not only tomorrow but each day with gratitude for whether you know it or not, all gratitude is ultimately gratitude for Christ, all remembering a remembrance of Him

The one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice glorifies me.  Isaiah 50:23a

It is all for your sake, so that as grace extends to more and more people it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God. 2 Corinthians 4:15

I will praise the name of God with a song; I will magnify him with thanksgiving. Psalm 69:30

(All photos are from an annual Autumn Nature Craft Swap with dear sister-friends)

a terrible, no good, very bad day

I'm having an Alexander of a day and for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about Alexander is a little boy who described his day as "terrible, horrible, no good, very bad."  Even as I write out that sentence, I'm tempted to backspace it away because it seems so dramatic and in one of my trains of thought there is a tape on repeat saying "in the grand scheme of things it isn't that bad."

But, it really has been pretty stinky.  With attitudes to follow. 

Alexander's day was full of moderate inconveniences and silly annoyances like gum in his hair, being squished in the backseat and the fact that no one was listening. He planned on moving to Australia.

Today my inconveniences included things like a 5 gallon bucket of Kilz paint primer, our basement floor, a pair of North Face boarding pants and a dog, followed by tape pealing finished paintwork, spilled beverages, pesky flies and a hummus covered knife flinging inself through the air dispersing goo with each rotation and emphatically bouncing on the floor. It also included an impatient mama, sisters who no matter how much I scolded could not get along, a teething baby, and harsh words that came flying out more quickly than "in your anger do not sin" could come to my mind. And to top it all off 20 minutes after cleaning up the spilled beverage at lunch, I pulled out my chair at the table and sat down only to discover that the spilled beverage was not contained on the table after all.  Did I mention that in my story no one is listening either?

It was one of those mornings where I became even angrier because I can't actually throw up my hands in defeat and just walk out.  I don't have the option to quit.  And in my heart of hearts I don't believe I'd actually take the option but I just want to have an option some days. Some days I feel like booking a flight to Australia with Alexander.

There is a banner across our fireplace that spells out the word gratitude and a little card on our table that reads "the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness..." and today when I looked at them I looked past the content and just saw clutter.  I hate clutter.  I like wide open, stark white, clean spaces of which there are none in my house. Deep breath.

At some point I laughed because this post was swimming around in my head and all I could think of was a song my knight's parents sang to him when he was but a wee squire...(to the tune of Frosty the Snowman)

"Wally the whiner was a little boy of four. He had ten toes and he picked his nose and he wiped it on the floor..."

I also despise whining which apparently there is a lot of in our house today.

There are two unpublished posts this week about what a hypocrite I am. In this case its true because I preach how our hearts should flow with gratitude but when pressed today nothing flowed but bitter whine.

By the grace of God I know that there is only one way to break a cycle of such a crummy day but on days like today rather than drinking and eating of the One thing, the One person, who can satisfy, I long more for a glass of wine and Trader Joe's Dark Chocolate Crisps.  I settled for a reheated cup of coffee and a banana muffin and reluctantly flung my Bible on the table.  And I stared at it.

And then I got up and vacuumed my floors.

I'm really, really stubborn some days and even though I know that it isn't true, I was hoping that a dog-hairless carpet would solve my problems.

It didn't.

I sat down again, looked right past the book and saw my phone. Another distraction sure to satisfy me.  I was so annoyed when I refreshed my screen and my Google Reader was open to Ann's post for this morning.  Not Ann, anyone but Ann, I thought. I know what she's going to say and today I just don't want to hear it.

But I started to read anyway...

I take the seat at the end of Mama’s couch. Curl my red socks up under me. Mama, she hands me a mug of steaming tea, apple cinnamon, and tells me it’s [Psalm] 107  this morning and could I just read the chapter right out loud?

Read it because it’s manna and and you’ve got nothing to give if you haven’t gathered, and you have to gather it at daybreak if you are going to gain from it the daylong.

Read it because it’s your very life and why live emaciated and I open it like a woman who needs to be cured of one wild and life-long eating disorder.
I read Psalm 107: ….

Let the redeemed of the LORD tell their story— …

Some wandered in desert wastelands,
finding no way to a city where they could settle.
They were hungry and thirsty,
and their lives ebbed away.

Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress…

Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love …

Some sat in darkness, in utter darkness,
prisoners suffering in iron chains … they stumbled, and there was no one to help.

Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble,
and he saved them from their distress…

Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love
and his wonderful deeds for mankind…

Some became fools through their rebellious ways
and suffered affliction because of their iniquities.
They loathed all food
and drew near the gates of death.

Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble,
and he saved them from their distress.

He sent out his word and healed them;
he rescued them from the grave.

Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love
and his wonderful deeds for mankind.

Let them sacrifice thank offerings and tell of his works with songs of joy.

And Anne looks over and Mama looks up and she asks it aloud, “Well?”
I pull at my socks and there is a one beautiful woman battling cancer and chemo– thousands– and mothers grieving over children gone and men broken over everything shattered and hadn’t Spurgeon said it:

“There is no greater mercy that I know of on earth than good health except it be sickness; and that has often been a greater mercy to me than health…
It is a good thing to be without a trouble; but it is a better thing to have a trouble, and know how to get grace enough to bear it.” ~Spurgeon

Know how to get grace enough.
It is a better thing to have a trouble, and know how to get grace enough to bear it. And we get grace enough to bear it — when we run into the arms of Grace who bore it all, into Him Who is more than enough.

I read the words once, then twice and the third time I read the words of Psalm 107 from my own Bible and fixed my gaze on

they loathed any kind of food,

and they drew near to the gates of death.

Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,

and he delivered them from their distress.

He sent out his word and healed them,

and delivered them from their destruction.

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,

for his wondrous works to the children of man!

And let them offer sacrifices of thanksgiving,

and tell of his deeds in songs of joy!

Tears fell readily and I sat at the table then and sit here now amazed at God's grace.

They loathed any kind of food and they drew near the gates of death...and He delivered them from their distress.

One moment I loath the one thing that can satisfy and moments later without me even crying to Him in my trouble, He delivers me from my distress.

Ann went on to write

I run my hand across the page. Gather the manna up into hands, what really is, and all that feeds:

“Our cries to the Lord — are what give us communion with the Lord. It’s the dire distress that drives us into the deep devotion.
It’s when all fails, His love never fails — and this is why we are a people who can always give thanks.”

It is humbling how she can always say it better than I can, and rarely would I even think to add anything to what she says but each time I read the above line I read it with the addition of three words I know so well today...when I fail.

It’s when all fails, when I fail, His love never fails — and this is why we are a people who can always give thanks. 

There are going to be more Alexander days. There may be one tomorrow. And today I'll combat what may happen tomorrow by learning how to give thanks. The Psalms mention a "sacrifice of thanksgiving" multiple times and it saddens my heart that giving thanks would be a sacrifice.  But in our limited understanding,  in our practical atheism, in our hard hearts, saying thank you for the Alexander days is so hard, so unthinkable.  But in everything we are called to give thanks.

When our girls whine or have hard hearts, as a discipline in learning to have hearts that offer sacrifices of thanksgiving no matter the circumstance, I ask them to list things for which they are grateful. 

By God's grace I take one more baby step in my battle against my own hypocrisy and I practice what I preach:


#1 -- A gracious God who does not leave my in my sin.
#2-- The words "I forgive you, mama"
#3-- That mercies are not just new each morning
#4-- The laughter of little girls
#5--  For spilled milk and wet pants and the prompting to change out of my pajamas
#6--Knowledge that with His love there truly is no such thing as a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day that cannot be redeemed
#7-- The life that comes from knowing that if when I fail, He does not.  That this new life began when I was dead. dead. dead. There was not life enough in one hypothetical cell in my body alive to desire Him, to want to be made new...But that God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved me, even when I was dead in my trespasses, made me alive together with Christ—by grace I have been saved—and this is not my own doing; it is the gift of God (Ephesians 2, italics mine)

full of {good} things

The sky continues to drizzle, the smell of warmth from the furnace's maiden run this season blends with the spicy pumpkin scent of tea, and I sit here longing to be snuggled in a blanket but can't muster the energy to actually retrieve one. Floors creak and objects unidentifiable to me thump above as if an alarm is sounding "nap time is over, nap time is over." The monitor, no longer mostly silent, is shrieking with the sounds of two sisters sing-shouting "Come Thou Fount of every blessing..."

It would be almost magical this rainy-snuggly first real fall day; except I haven't showered in days, dishes cascade over my counter tops, the church bulletin awaits completion and then there is dinner to be fixed. And that precious 15 month-old girl with only two small teeth pushing through six more.

How easy it is in the midst of all those things to forget...forget to live what I say I believe. Mainly, that God is good and that in Christ is all fullness of joy.

This morning I read 

"The heart is as insatiable as the grave until Jesus enters it, and then it becomes a cup full to overflowing. There is such a fullness in Christ that He alone is the believer's sufficiency..."

I've been chewing on it all day.  I know I write a lot about gratitude, and for those of you in close proximity to me, I know I can sound like a broken record speaking of gratitude, but I truly, truly believe that if our lives are not marked with gratitude, we are living not only like hypocrites but practical atheists.

As Ann says:

Without trust in the good news of Jesus, without trust in the good news of God's saving work even in this moment, without an active moment-by-moment trust in the good news of an all-sovereign, all-good God, how can we claim to fully believe?  This is the trust I lack: to know that if disaster strikes, He carries me even there. Trust in the wholeness of the gospel--including this moment, good news too--and be saved. Choose stress, worry, anxiety, reject what God has given now, which is good news too--refuse to trust--and be condemned.

If authentic, saving belief is the act of trusting, then to choose stress is an act of disbelief--atheism.

Anything less than gratitude and trust is practical atheism.

The joy comes when I stop looking at what I have to do and set my gaze on what Christ has done. 

The things that I let steal my joy like worry, stress, anxiety (and don't you know that they are all sin. "Be anxious for nothing..." that's a command) they are evidence that I don't really believe what my lips profess: that God is sovereign and that God is good.  A friend sent me a great article this week and I was reminded that my life is so full. Full of the very best things...

A few years ago, when I just had four children and when the oldest was still three, I loaded them all up to go on a walk. After the final sippy cup had found a place and we were ready to go, my two-year-old turned to me and said, “Wow! You have your hands full!”...

When my little girl told me, “Your hands are full!” I was so thankful that she already knew what my answer would be. It was the same one that I always gave: “Yes they are—full of good things!”

Live the gospel in the things that no one sees. Sacrifice for your children in places that only they will know about. Put their value ahead of yours. Grow them up in the clean air of gospel living. Your testimony to the gospel in the little details of your life is more valuable to them than you can imagine. If you tell them the gospel, but live to yourself, they will never believe it. Give your life for theirs every day, joyfully. Lay down pettiness. Lay down fussiness. Lay down resentment about the dishes, about the laundry, about how no one knows how hard you work.

Stop clinging to yourself and cling to the cross. There is more joy and more life and more laughter on the other side of death than you can possibly carry alone.

I didn't even get to finish rereading the article to finish this post before my solitude was interrupted by those two little girls that want to be near me and the sound of a third calling out from her own room.  And even though moments ago I couldn't muster a finger to even grab a blanket to make myself more comfortable, I'm going to rise from this chair and embrace all the good things this house is full of:  the dishes, the laundry, the dolls scattered across the floor.  What one moment can seem an overwhelming burden, when surrendered, when I stop clinging to myself, those burdens become evidences. Evidence of life, of good things, of God's grace, and ultimately evidence of a good God.

Because He is.

pink + blue = love

Just a quick note to you dear newlyweds, the not-so-newlyweds and even the oldie-weds...

Approximately 6 mostly bliss filled years ago, my knight and I read a book entitled Love & Respect. There were things we loved about the book, and a handful of things we may have scoffed at.  One of those being the concept that women hear with pink earmuffs and speak with pink megaphones and men hear through blue earmuffs and speak through blue megaphones.  I actually thought the idea was so cheesy I almost disregarded much of the book. But wouln't you know that years later, that silly concept we laughed at still surfaces and actually helps with our communication.  Or at least helps us resolve communication issues after the fact.

For example. Let's pick an arbitrary day like, oh, today for instance, where my knight in plaid & denim said he would be coming home for lunch.  My pink earmuffs and I got all puffed up with excitement and I readied the troops for his arrival. 

His visit consisted of eating 1/2 of his lunch while standing up and wrapping the rest in a paper towel to take with him to a meeting this afternoon. At this point I may have hypothetically speaking, had a few ruffled feathers and may have responded with a rather grumbling spirit. Ok, I wasn't very nice at all.

As quickly as he arrived, he departed and I was left with a pile of frustration and little grace. 

Until I remembered those darn earmuffs. And I laughed.

What happened was that through his blue megaphone he said "I'm coming home to get lunch" and in my pink earmuffs I heard "Oh honey, I love you so much, I'm going to make a special trip home and I'll listen to everything you have to say about your morning, I'll linger a few moments gazing into your eyes and then as if I am being physically torn away, I will leave hesitantly." Or something like that.

May I repeat?  What he said was "I'm coming home to get lunch." 

And when he did just that, he wasn't ill-willed at all, just doing exactly what he said he was going to do.

I tell you this little hypothetical story to remind you that communication, even with someone you love and cherish, isn't always easy. And sometimes it takes a conscious reminder that that special someone truly does not wish you ill, but rather loves you and just may be speaking and hearing through different "colors."

How will my story end you ask?  I'll send my knight this link with a heartfelt "I'm sorry for being disappointed over unspoken expectations.  Will you forgive me?"

My knight will most assuredly say "I already have." We'll seal the deal with a little kiss and I'll whisper, "Do you think the next time you say you are coming home for lunch you could stay? I'd like that very much."

The end.

savoring manna

A month ago I wrote looking forward to rest, hoping for a breath of air.  In the days we spent away, we relished in our Creator, cherished extra snuggles and giggles, explored and took time just to sit still.  There was some respite but truly, there is no place this side of heaven where our souls will ever be fully satisfied. Not that we aren't grateful for His grace in abundance but there is no place or person on earth that can satisfy our hearts.

I sat one evening as the sky turned waters pink and the sun spread shimmers of gold across the waves breaking gently on the sand and I heard the rapid beats of a hummingbird's wings.  The red of geraniums popped against the dusk and two little girls sat enfolded in their father's arms on the deck reading.

And wouldn't you know my heart was grumbling like that of an Israelite wandering in the Negev.

Before me was manna falling from heaven, nourishment for my weary soul, yet pangs of ingratitude and mistrust bubbled below the surface of my smile.

I forgot to see all manna as grace and saw only the immediate days past of holding a child while her stomach heaved on vacation, while my own body tread on unfamiliar waters of sickness. With aching insides and wavering faith my thoughts were that of a practical atheist rather than those of a trusting child who believes in a loving Father.

On the wooden deck I sat with my family out of duty, my heart and mind far from the book they were reading. Then I heard words from a book meant for children and was struck by my own childishness.

Now remember--because this is something they'd forgotten--God had done amazing things for his people. He'd hidden them inside a cloud. He'd moved the sea. He'd set them free.  But God's people still weren't happy...

Every day of their journey, God kept on showing his people how well he would look after them, if they would trust him, and obey him. When they were hungry, God made the sky rain with food--bread coming down from heaven!...When they were thirsty and started quarreling, God made water flow from a rock...And still God's children didn't trust him or do what he said. They thought they could do a better job of looking after themselves and making themselves happy. But God knew there was no such thing as happiness without him...

Aren't we all childish? Aren't we all just like the Israelites? Don't we get so caught up in the seeming burden of things like illness or unmet expectations that we fail to see the evident grace all around us?

How quickly I forget that there is no happiness, no satisfaction apart from being with Him. How easily I pour out the complaints and frustrations of my heart forgetting, just like the Israelites did, all that He has done.  How quickly the evidence that He is mighty to save, abounding in love, full of compassion become mere words on a page. How easily I fail to live like I actually believe that He who promised is faithful.

Delight yourself in the Lord,

and he will give you the desires of your heart. ~Psalm 37:4

It wasn't until a few years ago that I realized that if I am delighting myself in the Lord, He will be the desire of my heart.  It is not a formula: delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you a BMW or perfect health or well-behaved children.

When I delight in Him, He becomes my desire.

And He does not withhold himself from His children. He gives so freely that He gave us Jesus. And what was free to us, a grumbling, undeserving, ungrateful, depraved people, cost God everything. His very Son. He didn't have to but He gave anyway.  And for the joy set before him, Jesus endured the cross.

Jesus is our manna, broken like bread, poured out like wine and we have need for no other food. Nothing else can satisfy. In the words of John Piper

The way people meet God today, see God today, and get to know God today is by looking at the glory of Jesus, namely at the fullness of his grace. If you want to be really alert to seeing Jesus’ divine beauty, his glory—the spiritual brightness that sets him apart as self-evidently real and true—then make sure you tune your senses to see his grace. That’s what his glory is full of.

The rhythmic beating of wings, lapping of the tide, gentle stirring of the Holy Spirit began to tune my senses and the moment I had been waiting for arrived as the tightness in my shoulders dissipated and I was able to take in a much needed deep breath. Oxygen and grace filling each cell.

Manna.  I have been given all that I need.

Unlike the Israelites who weren't sure of what their manna was (hence the name 'manna' meaning "what is it?") I know what can satisfy; Who alone can satisfy.

He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Romans 8:32

Words on a page flash in my memory and I dig through a book to read them

He gave us Jesus. Jesus! Gave Him up for us all. If we have only one memory, isn't this one enough? Why is this the memory I most often take for granted? He cut open the flesh of the God-man and let the blood. He washed our grime with the bloody grace. He drove the iron ore through His own vein. Doesn't that memory alone suffice? Need there be anything more...If trust must be earned, hasn't God unequivocally earned our trust with the bark on the raw wounds, the thorns pressed into the brow...all gratitude is ultimately gratitude for Christ, all remembering a remembrance of Him...

For really as long as I live, travel, is there ever anything else to eat? I either take the "what is it" manna with thanks, eat the mystery of the moment with trust, and am nourished another day--or refuse it and die..This, this is what I've always wanted and never knew: this utter trust, this enlivening fall of surrender into safe hands. ~Ann Voskamp

Weeks later, reality sets in and I often can't hear myself speak above the constant clamor, let alone hear a hummingbird's wings, but I continually remember the moment on the deck where I was reminded once again of just how very much I need a Savior.  I need one so much that I'm even blinded to the fact that I even need Him.  And yet He so graciously gives me eyes, so graciously opens them and so graciously turns my eyes from myself and all the stuff of this world and in His mercy, my gaze falls on Him.

I savor the Manna.



The spirit which actuates us may seem to be a small matter so long as we are outwardly right; but it is in reality the essence of the whole thing. Take away the flavour from the fruit, or the fragrance from the flower, and what is left? Such is correct living without the savour of grace. ~ Charles Spurgeon




For all the promises of God find their Yes in him. That is why it is through him that we utter our Amen to God for his glory. 2 Corinthians 1:20

He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Romans 8:32 

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. Hebrews 12:1-3


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