Tuesday With Teri

          Last week I learned a new phrase:  “Bust a Rut”   While visiting our daughter in Charleston last week she was telling us about her day.  Apparently when my daughter’s yoga instructor(yep, it is  actually a college course) noticed the class was moving into the next position before he told them what to do he announced it was time to “BUST A RUT”. 

           He realized the class had become accustomed to a normalcy that was not acceptable.  He then had them move to different locations within the room and then proceeded to change their overall routine.  Those of you who have never attended a workout class may not understand the disruptiveness of this maneuver.  I totally felt my daughter’s agony when she shared she was moved from the safety of her usual location, the far left back of the class, to the front of the room.  Funny, while I would not dare to attempt a yoga class, whenever I do venture into a workout class at the gym I too almost always go to the far left back of the room.  For some reason, there is a great deal of security in the back of the class…especially if you actually have to follow someone else’s moves or instructions. 

          The phrase, “Bust a Rut”, has stuck with me since she told us this story.  I have thought about how easy it is to fall into a rut.  It is hard to recognize a rut.  My hubby and I decided we would attempt to “Bust a Rut” whenever possible.

          Attempt number one:   walk slower…it came to my attention that we were walking fast everywhere we went while in Charleston.  How did this come to my attention you ask?   Well, I noticed we were navigating the sidewalk and other pedestrians using the same rules and techniques as one would on hwy 95.  The other tell tale sign was that we needed to pass others at all…we really were in no need to hurry anytime we there.  So, we decided to try to make ourselves move slower, bust our rut.

          Result:  Well, not too sure, since by the time we discovered the need to bust this rut we were heading home to Northern VA where walking slow could cause a small riot in some locations.

         Attempt number two:   go down roads less traveled…We visited the historic town of Annapolis Maryland this last Saturday.  We have been there before and love to stroll down this port city’s main streets.   This visit we actually went a bit off our beaten path.  There were streets we had never been down before, for good reason, they were less inviting and did not boast of numerous shops or restaurants.

          Result:  Found an out of the way antique shop with a unique piece of furniture we may later acquire.  Saw numerous homes and buildings of historical beauty. We finally got a chance to try our “walk slower” goal and found we really enjoyed the relaxing day.

          Yep, that is it…only two attempts so far to “Bust a Rut.”  Seems this rut busting business is not as easy as it sounded.  I am still determined to incorporate this mindset into my life. 

          Do I always sit in the same place in church?  Do I tend to talk with the people I know at church and miss chances to meet others?  Have I challenged myself to have more conversations with people I encounter?  Is it time to change how I do things throughout the week?  Have I fallen into a routine of Bible study and lost my thirst for His Word?  Have I been so busy living life that I forgot Who I was living for?   

Colossians 1:9-10 is a wonderful template for us to pray for one another as we seek to “Bust a Rut” and do something outside of the norm, increase self expectation and put a little bend in the road of life…to please God, bear fruit, know Him more.

“Therefore we have not ceased to pray for you and to ask that you may be filled with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that you may walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, to please Him in all respects, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God.”

          I am in Charleston SC this week visiting my daughter at college.  We have had a wonderful visit as usual.  While it is always good to spend precious time with our daughter, we get doubly blessed because her college town happens to be a great place to vacation.  Charleston is a sweet southern town full of civil war significance, quaint shops, fantastic eateries, beaches and boat marinas. 

          I especially like to walk around the town.  Within a 5 mile walking distance you encounter unique gift shops, plenty of trendy clothing stores and street upon street of beautiful historic homes many on a water front known as “the battery”.  The streets are filled with an odd assortment of vacationers, college students, cadets from the local military school and the locals.  The later can easily be identified by their laid back saunter. Wether dressed in business suits or swim suits, everyone seems to move at a much slower pace than our home town in Northern Virginia.

       While I had noticed the beauty and abundance of tree-lined parks in this area, it was a comment from my daughter while on one of our strolls around town that highlighted something I somehow had overlooked.  “This place just encourages you to sit.  There are benches everywhere.” she said.

         I looked about, sure enough there before us was a large assortment of park benches.  The further we walked the more we saw.  I lost count after 30.  Wrought iron, wood, or cement benches lined walk ways through parks, fronts of stores, apartments, government buildings, local piers and docks.  Most of the benches were made of iron with wood slat seating, some were in groupings forming a pod of sorts and almost all of them sat below shady trees or shafts of warm sunlight.

          Then I noticed something equally odd, most of them were empty.  Joggers, walkers, visitors, workers all moved past each tempting seat as if they were invisible.  Of course, if everyone stopped at every bench they saw, no one would get anywhere…but still, it seemed a waste.  The existence of these benches was not lost on my husband and I.  We talked about how nice it would be to just sit on a sun soaked bench and relax and read a bit one of the days of our stay here.  Several times today even, we determined we would set aside time to just go sit and relax on one of those benches and yet….here I sit in our hotel room closing out day 3 of our visit and we have yet to sit on a bench.

          How often do we pass up opportunities to rest?  It is easy to tell ourselves we don’t need, deserve or have time for REST, and yet we are made for times of rest.  Biologically our bodies require recovery time.  Emotionally we have all experienced the need for rest.  spiritually there is a need to rest and renewal.   Why is rest so easy to avoid?  While we may not all live in a city that “encourages you to sit”, we are all given a place to rest in our heavenly Father.

          “Come to Me, all you who are troubled and weighted down with care, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

          Tomorrow, I will sit on a sun soaked bench, if only for a while….and I hope you will join me in remembering throughout each day that we have a God who offers us REST. 

 Everytime I see a bench, I will remember in Whom I find true rest.

          Last weekend I joined friends for a special birthday adventure.  Phyllis had accomplished turning 60 and we decided a trip commemorating this event was in order!   Our excursion involved  a night at a Bed & Breakfast, tour of a Virginia winery and a tour of Monticello(historic home of Thomas Jefferson). 

          The fun began even before we left the parking lot at the start of our trip.  As we piled our overnight bags and then ourselves into our friend’s 8 passenger SUV there was an air of excitement.  It felt just like being a teenager heading off to an overnight camp of sorts…except we were clutching our coffee cups instead of soda cans and less than nibble in climbing to the back seat. 

         It did not take long before the story telling began as we recalled the hilarious antics of our kids in their youth.   It seemed like only yesterday when the boys emptied our pantries and hair dye and cake mix boxes were found in the trash following a girl’s sleep over.  Over the miles and well into the evening, we had precious time to get caught up with each other, hear about families and learn what was new in each other’s lives.

          While we were joyfully creating sweet new memories while on this adventure…it also reminded me of why I love these women.

          These are the women who shared more than just stories of funny, happy times in their lives.  These women were quick to share their struggles as well.  When I was in a valley these were the women who boldly admitted they had been there too and helped me see my way out of it.  When I faltered as a parent and bent under the weight of despair, these were the women who encouraged me.  They shared their own battles so that I could see the hand of God in their lives and hold faithfully to His promises. 

Following our tour of Thomas Jefferson’s home, Monticello, I discovered this quote by him,

 “…friendship is precious not only in shade, but in the sunshine of life, and thanks to a benevolent arrangement the greater part of life is sunshine.”

          What a privilege it is to share one’s life with others….our falling down AND our getting up, our sorrows AND our comforts,  our despair AND our hope…that in all of life, both shade and sunshine, we may see the hand of God and glorify Him in our friendships.

“…and our hope for you is firmly grounded, knowing that as you are sharers of our suffering, so also are you sharers of our comfort.”

2 Corinthians 1:7

          The bright yellow t-shirt on the guy in front of me read, “This seemed like a good idea 2 months ago….”.   For me, it was a “good” idea about 5 months ago.  Spring of 2010 I began learning how to run following a program titled Couch to 5K.  By August I was able to run/trudge through my first 5k thanks greatly to the encouragement of my friend Ann.  That fall Ann invited several of us to consider a half marathon (13.1miles) in Feb. 2011.   To this day I am not sure what possessed me to sign up.  It may have been the fun I was having hanging out with this group of young lady runners from our church.  It may have been my desire to stay motivated to get in shape, or MAYBE it was the photo of powdered sugar coated beignets, which Ann included in her email about the race.  A beignet is a New Orleans treat that is best described as what would happen if you merged the world’s fluffiest doughnut with a crispy fried funnel cake, YUM!  Next thing I knew, I was joining Ann, Desi and two of Ann’s former college buddies, Tina and Erin for the Rock and Roll half Marathon in New Orleans to benefit the American Cancer Society.  

           The training for running 13.1 miles when you are a non-runner is not as much intense as it is consistent.  Each week we would run about every other day, gradually increasing our distance and stamina.  I was happily surprised when I found myself able to indeed run farther each week.  I was far from fast, and my running technique may have been less than perfect, but I was working hard and completing my goals.  By January, I began to feel the panic.  Things like “What was I thinking?!” , “This is totally unrealistic” and “maybe I could just walk the entire 13.1 miles” where never far from my lips, that and “I’m going kill Ann for getting me into this”.  By February, I was secretly hoping the return of Christ, and subsequent rapture, would occur and relieve me of having to run this race.  Eventually I found myself nestled among a throng of runners, a numbered bib pinned to my shirt, and my heart pounding.

         While waiting to start, I thought of something said at dinner the night before.  Erin shared how she did not run with any headset or music and that she was challenging herself to interact with others in the race.  That idea was totally opposite of my game plan.  I had my music loaded, my ball cap on and was ready to block out everything I could and focus on getting done.   I decided to change my game plan a bit, my new goals included:

1.) run at my own pace 2.)  listen to the bands and encouragers along the route 3. talk to at least one person along the way if even for a minute and 4.) do not stop.

          It was a gorgeous Sunday morning, chilly, but sunny with a bright blue sky.  Dear friends had written encouraging notes and were praying for us that morning.  I felt incredibly lifted up and energized by the time I finished the first mile.  The end of the second mile is always the hardest for me for some reason.  The discomfort felt in my lungs and heart usually disappears after mile three, but at the time, it makes me feel as if I am incapable of running any great length and the mental battle can be hard.  Just as I was feeling as if I had bitten off more than I could chew, I noticed a portion of scripture on the back of a t-shirt of another runner.  It was from Isaiah 40:31

“Yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength….they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not grow weary.”

          I jogged up beside her and commented on her shirt.  I’m not sure exactly what I said, but I know it was a reference to the probability that being “weary” was inevitable today.   I did not realize it then, but it would later be infinitely clear that this was the precise moment God was answering the prayers of my friends back home.  Her name was Angie (hmmmm, pretty close to angel don’t you think?).  She was a fellow Christian who was there with a Christian runners group from Alabama, Sole to Soul Sisters.   We would talk, but not at great length since we were both busy breathing and often working hard, but it was just enough. 

           The race got brighter it seemed.  I took off my head set and listened to the bands as we passed, enjoyed the antics of the encouraging spectators, and enjoyed the new scenery along the route.  At each passing milestone, we shared astonishment that we were still going.  When we tired, we slowed down, but kept going.  When I thought about stopping, I reconsidered it because she was with me.  When it got painful, it was good to have someone there to hear me complain, someone to share my pain.  She kept things in perspective by reminding me as we passed markers what our running time was, I did not even have the energy to look down at my own tracker on my wrist. 

           In our final miles, when normally I would have been pushing myself and struggling with weariness, I was excited and proud of us.  My heart felt strong even though my legs were aching and burning.  When we crossed the finish line, we hugged and shared the joy of the accomplishment.   Now I know what Isaiah ment…I beleive one of the ways God enables us to “run and not get tired, walk and not grow weary” in this life is by surrounding us with others who journey along with us, share our struggles, encourage our steps and push us to complete our race.

          Stories were being shared of growing up “back in the day” in small southern towns.  I suppose the open admission of cow tipping was inevitable, but I was still caught off guard.  Seriously?  I had heard of cow tipping, but I must admit this was my first time meeting a couple of bonifide cow tippers.  I was beyond curious.  “Is it like rocking a small car?” I asked picturing the time I saw several large football players attempt to roll a Volkswagon on it’s side.   “You just get a couple of big fellas, shoulders down and hit it hard,” came the reply.  The other cow tipper made it sound even easier, “If you think about it,” he said “cows are not meant to move laterally.  Cows rarely move backward, almost always move forward, and seldom have reason to move laterally…they are very unstable from the side.”  I was a bit stunned by this application of physics to cow tipping. 

          I pictured the poor cow standing in a sleep-induced stupor alone on a hilly terrain.  How startled the cow must have been to find his body pushed a direction it was not planning to go.  Unprepared to compensate for the new sensation of being moved sideways it could not adjust in time and soon found itself on its side on the ground. 

           I wondered how cows might prepare for such an affront.   Maybe they could purchase stabilizing bars like the ones found on test vehicles to prevent rollovers during extreme turns.  Maybe they could stand with their legs further apart giving them a wider more stable base.  On the other hand,…maybe they could stand close to one another while asleep.  Seems to me that if unplanned lateral movement was their weakness then having other cows around would help keep them upright…yes, that would do I think.

          The day I heard this story I felt a lot like those cows.   My cousin, Gary Cato, had passed unexpectedly.   We had gathered at his home following his funeral.  There in his kitchen, family and friends shared stories of growing up with him and the privilege of knowing him.   The stories of his life, and the impact he had on those around him, helped ease some of the ache felt by those who understood what an amazing husband, father, and son he was.

          When I heard of his death, I felt like a cow that had just been tipped.  I was NOT ready for the impact of those words.  I found it difficult to adjust to what had occurred.    I only had plans to move forward.  There was the phone call I intended to make, the e-mail I composed in my head but never sent, the opportunity to know him better that was never taken…I did not expect this emotional hit that would cause imbalance and change the direction of things.  But life does indeed sometimes hit us from the side.

         How often do we look forward, brace for known challenges, only to find ourselves spinning from the chaos of life.  I know I am not the only tipped cow.  Maybe you’ve experienced unexpected loss, hurt or challenges.  Maybe you know what it’s like to find yourself asking what happened, how did we get here, how are we going to get back up.  Here is what I know….the cow may be surprised by it’s tipping, but God has His eyes on the cow.  God is not surprised by our loss, hurts or challenges.  He is with us in it all.  He surrounds us with loved ones, family and friends, who stand with us, press against us and help keep us upright.

Life may not always meet my expectations, but my God never fails me.

“The Lord is near the broken hearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18

Lord, I pray you bring comfort and peace beyond all comprehension to those whose hearts are broken, whose spirits are crushed, restore thier joy that they may once again find their feet under them and strength to stand firm against the world. Amen

          I was attempting to be more organized with our laundry.  My husband appeared to be resistant to my efforts.  “How could he get this so wrong” I thought to myself.  I had placed two laundry baskets in the floor of our closet, one for whites, the other for darks.   Their designation was obvious as they were already somewhat full with white and darks respectively.  I stood over the two laundry baskets , my mouth hanging open in astonishment.   There, atop the whites basket was a wad of my dear husbands dark shirts and jeans….and, no surprise, his whites were laid across the darks basket.

          I turned to him with needless impatience, “Seriously, how hard is it to put your darks in the darks and whites in the whites?”  I said.  My tone reflected my frustration with his lack of compliance with my laundry system.  At first his only respose was that cute little puppy dog tilt of the head as if to ask “What are you talking about?”  Then he realized the source of my snippiness and simply grinned.  “You need to understand the process for how they got there” .  He picked up a tee shirt he had just taken off, rolled it in a ball and tossed across the room and into the closet where it landed randomly between both baskets.

          Ahhhhhaaaa. So the problem was that he did not take the time to go near the baskets and careful place his laundry in the correct place.  His method of tossing his dirty laundry across the room may have saved him a few steps, but it resulted in dirty laundry chaos in the floor of our closet.  If he would only take the time to get closer to the baskets he could tell there was a system and follow my laundry plan.  His distance kept him from the needed perspective to achieve laundry system compliance.  It was not the placement of items in the baskets that was the issue, the problem was the process that got them there.

          I realize I cannot fault my husband for his lack of dirty laundry efficiency for two reasons; first, I have a tendency to be MUCH less organized than him in most things so I really don’t have room to talk.  Secondly; when we operate from a distance we are all prone to missing the mark.

          A dear feind of mine recently returned from a Community Bible Study leadership conference.  She was so excited by all she learned and saw while away she was overwhelmed in trying to share.  In Christian circles we call this a “mountain top” experience.  Her spirit had been revived and her desire to know God more was at an all time high.  Her enthusiasm was infectious.  If found myself reflecting on my own relative lack of enthusiasm.  I used to hunger for the Word of God, now at times I struggle to be consistently in the Word.  Before, I could not read enough and no matter how often I read a passage over the years,  each time it was new and applicable to  life. 

         Reading God’s Word consistently is how we draw close to Him.  When I fail to stay in His word I soon find that like my husband’s laundry toss, I too miss the mark.  God has a plan, a system.  Sometimes I follow close and can see with ease His direction for my life.  Sometimes I stay distant from Him.  Instead of intentionally, obediently following Him, I instead toss my efforts to please Him aimlessly.  The end result…I miss the plan, create chaos, miss His intended blessing.

          If I am going to hold my husband to a standard of taking the time to get close enough to the laundry baskets so he can follow the system, I must then hold myself accountable.  I will get closer to God so I can follow His plan for me. 

One of my favorite verses is Psalm 63:8…I like How the KJ version puts it…

”My soul followeth hard after thee;

Thy right hand upholdeth me.”

This week I pray I find myself following hard after my God and seeking to know Him even more.

         It iced last night.  I’m not sure if that is the correct term for it, but it sure seems to fit.  This morning we woke to a world coated with crystal.  It was beautiful, still, and quiet.  I thought it was just lovely until I recalled that the beautiful ice on my trees and lawn would mean an impassable driveway.

        The condition of my driveway would not normally be a concern early in the morning on a day such as this, many things closed or canceled and my husband working from home, but with dread, I realized I had yet to put our mail in the mailbox.  Bills needed to get out and since my mail carrier would be not be stopped by “rain nor snow nor sleet…” I needed to get to my mailbox.   

        Now let me attempt to paint the picture for you.

       First, the terrain: Our driveway is approximately 75 ft. of gently sloping asphalt…upward sloping.  It is flanked on either side by swaths of yard, which eventually narrow to foot wide grassy sections separating the driveway from significant ledges.  It was at this time completely sealed by a quarter inch of ice.

        Second, the attire:  Having been up only a few hours and lingering over a second cup of coffee, I was still in my PJs.  My hair had yet to meet a brush, which means it was plastered on one side of my head and reaching to the sky on the other.  After poking my bare feet into the nearest pair of boots in the hall closet, I topped off my ensemble with an oversized Pea coat.

         Third, the plan:  Yes, I actually had a plan.  I decided I could get traction in the crunchy, crusty grass along the driveway.  I would avoid the slippery surface of the driveway for as much as possible.  I even determined I would take the longer way around the side of the house and use the garbage can as a safe anchor if needed.  AND, just in case, I told my husband to be sure to check on me in case it did not go as planned.

         So, there you have it.  That is how a 1 minute walk to the mailbox turned into a 20 minute lesson in control, or lack of it. 

        After painstakingly making it all the way to my destination, and chiseling open the mailbox, I began the homeward decent.  Feeling a tad brave due to my success, I ventured onto the driveway for my return trip.  Slowly I began to slide like butter on a hot griddle.  I managed to keep my head above my feet and not fall, I am sure purely out of fear that IF I did fall, 911 would need to be called and I was NOT going to be seen looking like I did lying flat on my backside.  As I perfected my slow motion slide into home one thing was infinitely clear…I was out of control.  It became apparent my only part in my safe return to the front porch would be to keep my head over my feet no matter where they lead me.

          Once safe and warm within my house I assessed a few things.  First, my husband was enjoying his cup of coffee not even remotely aware of my perilous adventure.  Had I fallen, apparently my worries of being found by 911 responders were without merit.  Second, and most important, I realized how often my life is like my mailbox journey.

          How often do I set out to accomplish something out of my own ability?  I will map out a path, plan and prepare for the journey.  I may even try to attire myself for the task.  Ultimately, it is God who controls our steps.  My job is to keep my head over my feet no matter where He leads.

“Even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me” Psalm 139:10

          Okay, I am a clicker.  I am that annoying person who, when given control of the TV remote, will rapidly click through ALL available channels until something catches my attention.  Much to my husband’s dismay, I tend to forget the existence of a TV guide.  While this may not be a very efficient method of seeking out entertainment, it has yielded some viewing gems I would have otherwise never happened upon.  For example, just last week I expanded my knowledge of the amazing giant octopus. 

          I am not quite sure what the entire program was about, but I was quickly drawn into the goings on of a group of researchers capturing an octopus and then performing behavioral studies on it at sea.  I watched as they placed their captive octopus into a clear acrylic box below the surface of the ocean.  The narrator informed us the box had one circular opening, which the octopus could use to escape.  The octopus is basically boneless, which allows it to squish in and out of extraordinarily small places.  This attribute has lead the octopus to be considered by many the Houdini of the sea.  The diameter of this exit hole was just large enough to allow for the ONE part of the octopus that cannot be changed or manipulated.  The octopus has one small bone section located between its eyes. 

          I watched as this amazing creature used one of its sucker lined arms to feel around the opening before beginning its escape.  Arm by arm, body section by flattened body section; the octopus quickly extricated itself from the confines of the box.   Next  the researchers reduced the available exit opening to a diameter that would NOT accommodate the only bone structure the octopus had. 

          As soon as the little guy was placed back in the box he again used his arm to investigate his escape route.  Surprisingly, within minutes the octopus had ascertained it would not be able to get out of the small opening.  There was no attempt to escape at all.  Instead, the octopus settled into a corner of the box.  The researchers were excited!  The experiment confirmed that the octopus has a very keen understanding of self.  Apparently, most would have expected the captured creature to try to remove itself from the undesired circumstance.  It was assumed the realization of the impossibility of escape would have come from trial and error.   They discovered that because the octopus KNEW it had a body structure that would prevent it from escape, it did not even try.

          Hmmmmm, an octopus knows what it can and cannot accomplish.  This spineless mass of gelatinous tissue is capable of knowing something about itself that even I struggle with at times.  It knows that although it can morph into almost any size, shape or color, there was something in its core being that defined it.  While the small bone in its head like body may be seen as a limitation, the octopus’s understanding of it was liberating.  It did not attempt to push, pull or stretch itself into something it could not become.  It did not waste time or energy trying to form itself into something it was never meant to be.  God had made it just so.

          How often do I fail to recognize the core of what God has placed within me.  Sometimes in my attempt to live out “I can do all things through God..”  I forget that He has not made me to be all things to all people.  He has placed within me abilities or gifts which may not always fit into my own expectations.  How much needless effort would be avoided if I could seek to understand the person God has created me to be.  What a wonderful attribute that would be, knowing myself as He sees me and seeking with confidence my fit in His plan.

“For You created my inner most being, You knit me together in my mother’s womb.  I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful , I know that full well…all the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.”  Psalm 139:14-16

           Happy New Year!  Hard to believe we are past the days of celebrating the birth of our savior and well into the days of self-contemplation.  It seldom fails that each new year we are compelled to consider the previous year in great detail and determine adjustments as needed for the coming year. 

          New Year resolutions often focus on careers, family, health, and even our spiritual walk.  We vow to improve, stop, or start various activities in hopes that the next year will yield better results based on our efforts.  I recall numerous resolutions I have made over the years to lose weight, be a better wife, better house keeper, better mom, better friend, better follower of Christ, etc…  Now I’m not saying I did not accomplish these tasks entirely, but suffice to say I spent more time agonizing over my failures than reveling in my success.

          Why is it that at the start of each year we place such pressure on ourselves for improvement?  Why not seek such resolve year round?  Maybe because it is such a daunting task we can only handle this level of goal setting once a year.  For me, the unfortunate result is that I expect my personal “course corrections” to take place instantaneously.    I am quick to feel defeated when I have not achieved my resolutions by February or March.

          This week I ran across a familiar scripture following my reading of the account of Jesus’ birth in the book of Luke.  Although this verse is not new to me at all, it was as if I had never noticed it before.  I pray you find the freedom and relief I felt as I read these words…

Luke 2:52—And Jesus INCREASED in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.

          Yep, there it is…He “increased”.  Jesus may have been without sin, but wisdom and self-improvement was not instantaneous…it was a process even for Him.  I want to remember that this year.  When I’m working on an aspect of my life, when Satan tries to discourage me, when it seems I’ll never meet my own expectations….I want to remember my life is a process and my God has His plans for me.

“For I know the thoughts  that I think towards you saith the Lord,  Thoughts  of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end….you shall seek me and find me, when you search for me with all your heart” Jeremiah 29:11-13

          This week we continue our advent celebration.  Each week, four prior to Christmas Eve, we gather to light a candle and consider the coming of our savior.  It is a wonderful time to stop in the midst of the season and truly focus on the reason for all the wonderful merriment of Christmas.  This week we celebrate His LOVE for us.

          Have you heard the one about the man who never told his wife he loved her?  “I told you I loved you on our wedding day” he said “I’ll let you know if that ever changes” .   This is the kind of line that is only funny as long as it is not true.   I can’t fathom a spouse who would be content with just one profession of love.  Whether it is confirmation of something we believed or affirmation of what we know,  being told “I love you” is a treasured thing.   

          Once when I was complaining to my very patient hubby that I felt he did not provide me with enough verbal affirmation he replied, “But I am thinking it all the time!”   I realize I am beyond blessed to have a husband who  loves me as he does, but I still needed to HEAR it from him. 

          I will never forget attending the funeral for a young boy who died in a tragic accident.   As I came up to my friend, the grief stricken father, to offer my condolences he startled me by his passionate greeting.  Taking both my shoulders by his hands, he practically shook me as he looked in my eyes and said, “Tell your kids you love them every day, any day, all the time.”   To be honest, at that time, I thought I was pretty good at letting my kids know who much I love them…but that day and ever since I have tried to be better about sharing my love with them.

          There is something thrilling about being told you are loved.  Not just that fleeting “Love you” we sometimes utter  as we leave or get off the phone, but the look in the eyes and say with all earnest, “You need to know, I love you”.   It’s as if we were created to be loved and to love others.

          God, our creator, knows our every need.  He knows our need for this affirming/confirming love.  When it comes to loving us, God is consistently and constantly telling us He loves us is so many ways.

          He tells us He loves us in the beauty of His creation.  Crisp white snow, endless rolling ocean waves, purple and orange setting suns and flower filled fields all shout “I love you.”  The laughter of children, the wisdom of the elderly and the comfort of friendships are reflections of His love for us. 

      At Christmas, we celebrate the greatest proclamation of His love for us.

 “By this the love of God was manifested in us, that God has sent His only begotten Son into the world so that we might live through Him.  In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be a propitiation for our sins.”   ( 1John 4:9&10)

In the stillness of the night, on a musty mound of hay, in a stable meant for livestock our heavenly Father whispered, “I love you” to the world as Mary brought forth her newborn son and laid him in a manger.

Merry Christmas to us all!