A SCARCITY MENTALITY

One of my guilty pleasures in semi-retirement is reading.  I read a variety of things including both fiction and non-fiction, and I am usually reading several books at a time, including The Bible.  It amazes me how God pulls strands together from diverse readings to teach me what he wants me to know.  This week I have been wrapping up a study of Revelation, begun (actually on the second book) the Lucy Barton series by Elizabeth Strout (Thank you, Amanda Herrold!) and continuing a very unhurried read of The Sacred Slow by Alicia Britt Chole. 

The theme of my readings this week has been “a scarcity mentality.” Oh, I haven’t run across that phrase, but that is what stands out to me, and I am feeling a bit chastised by The Lord.  I know where this way of thinking began.  There were times in my childhood when things were scarce.  So today, when I am trying to de-clutter and rid my house of so many things, I am paralyzed.  “What if I need this? But this belonged to my Great Aunt Fannie Belle! This holds too many memories.”  And the clincher, “I might lose enough weight to wear this again.”  These are a few of the thoughts that keep me up to my ears in stuff, but I am working on it.  My niece, Leanne would say we should curate our homes.  I like that idea, but have a difficult time implementing it. 

This morning as I was reading Sacred Slow, the author describes how one of the first reflexes a newborn baby displays is a gripping reflex. If we place an object in a newborn’s palm, she will close her fingers around it and hold on.  In fact, babies develop this reflex before they are even born, and I guess some of us carry it throughout our lives. 

“In the beginning we open our eyes and instinctively tighten our grip around all that is placed I our hands.  In the end, others close our eyes, and our hands are incapable of gripping a single thing. Perhaps on the other side we may see this life as a journey from keeping to releasing, from gripping to entrusting.” Chole

This is where the book of Revelation comes in.  In the end, none of my possessions will matter.  The only things I can take with me to Heaven will be my loved ones who have accepted Christ as Lord and Savior.  

“A clenched fist displays the delusion of ownership. An open hand reveals the realities of stewardship.” Chole.

Lord, help me to live with open hands.

Chole, Alicia Britt. The Sacred Slow: A Holy Departure from Fast Faith. Nashville, W Publishing, 2017.

MOTHER’S DAY MUSINGS

I wrote these words some years ago, but have updated them to reflect a growing family and my own advancing years.

The older I get the less Mother’s Day is about being honored and celebrated and the more it becomes a day of gratitude.  I am so very grateful for the privilege of being a mother.  Let me say at the beginning, I recognize that Mother’s Day is a difficult holiday for many.  Perhaps you have lost your mother; maybe this will be your first Mother’s day without her.  Perhaps the two of you have a difficult relationship.  I get it.  I remember many years standing in the Hallmark store with tears in my eyes thinking, “There is not one Mother’s Day card for my mother.”  It also may be difficult because you desperately want to be a mother and for whatever reason this has not happened.  Maybe you have lost an unborn child or children and this day is a painful reminder.   And tragically, you may have given birth to a child who later died.  My heart breaks for you.

I am richly blessed with three wonderful daughters.   As my wise sister has often reminded me, most of us get two shots at the parent child relationship.  The first opportunity is with our parents, and then later with our own children.  Even if you don’t have the relationship you would like with your parents, you can still resolve to have a good relationship with your own children.  Sometimes our best parenting lessons come by learning what not to do.

The greatest Mother’s Day gift I have ever received is the gift of being a mother.  I can still vividly remember the overwhelming love I felt for my firstborn daughter as she was placed in my arms.  And the surprising relief that I could feel the same amount of love for a second and a third daughter.  And don’t even get me started about my grandchildren!  A mother’s love is never divided: it is multiplied.

I am blessed that my grown children live nearby and I get to see them often and watch the cousins grow up together.  I really like the women my girls have become, and I enjoy spending time with them, even if it is just a quick pop-in visit.  And I am, so proud of them as mothers.  They have blessed me with nine beautiful grandchildren, three greats, and another on the way.  Our family just keeps growing.  It is more than I ever could have wished for!

There are many gifts in motherhood, but I think the greatest is that it truly teaches us about the heart of our Father.  I can remember the frustrations I felt as a young, overwhelmed mother.  There was nothing I could take to God that he had not already experienced.  “Oh Lord, they are always wanting something!” (Yes, I understand.  My children only come to me when they need something.”)  “They don’t appreciate how much I do for them!”  (Really?  How often do you thank me for all I do for you?”)  As they got older I complained that they were too busy for me.  I certainly didn’t surprise God with that one!  (“Hmmm.  My children are too busy for me too!”)   Of course, I always realized that God was referring to me.  As a parent, God has been so patient and loving with me. 

There are sacred responsibilities and privileges that come with being a mother.  Nurturing them to know and obey the Lord is the most important.  Thankfully I know my children will spend eternity in heaven.  At this time in my life, I think prayer is my most important assignment.  When my children were younger, I had the illusion that I was in control.  As they got older, I began to see how little control I actually had.  I had to begin what would become a continual process of letting them go and surrendering them to the Lord.  Now, I must do the same with my grands.  They have wings, although there is a part of me that would like to keep them under my wings.  That is where prayer comes in.  I remind them frequently that I am praying for them and that there is nothing the devil hates worse than a praying grandmother.  One day, when they have grandchildren of their own, I hope they will remember me that way…as a praying grandmother.      

When my babies were little, my precious grandmother would tell me, “These are the best days of your life.  One day you will want them back.”  She was so right.  The days are long, but the years are short.  Oh, I don’t want to go completely back to the child-rearing years.  But I would just like to have one day, one hour with them as children.  One more handmade Mother’s Day gift.    I would love to have them snuggle up next to me and just be with me.  Maybe that is what my Father wants: a day to just be with me.  A day when I don’t come to Him with my want list.  A day when I just enjoy His presence.   

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward.  Psalm 127:3 (ESV).

SUNDAY

It’s Friday.  The disciples are shocked, scattered, and shattered.  It wasn’t supposed to be this way.  They thought there was a future, a plan.  They risked everything they had to follow Jesus.  Now that plan is destroyed.  Terrified, they wonder what is next.  Will the Roman soldiers be coming for them?

We have all had our Fridays.  A midnight phone call, a pink slip at work, a bad diagnosis, an “I don’t love you any more.”  We are devastated.  Brokenhearted.  This is not the way it is supposed to be!  We had a plan, we were all in, and now that plan is in pieces.  We wonder if there is another shoe to drop.  

It’s Saturday.  The disciples are in pain.  Mary must have been in agony.  Still in shock, they are constrained by the laws of what might be their last Sabbath Saturday.  They cannot even care for the body of their Lord.  And God seems silent.

After devastating life events, we too experience those dark Saturdays.  Caught between the familiarities of what were our lives only a few days ago, we are now in uncharted territory.  We don’t know what to do.  We are spent and exhausted.  We can’t even imagine moving forward. And God seems silent.

It’s Sunday!  He is risen!  His disciples wonder if it could possibly be true.  Everything changes.  There is now hope and a future.  They get a new plan, and gradually they understand that this was the plan all along.  They get new marching orders.  They rejoice and sing a new song.

 We finally get a Sunday.  That which was dead comes to life again.  We discover that we can move forward and put one foot in front of the other.  We don’t go back to where we were, but we get a different kind of good, one that we could never imagine.  God gives us a new plan and a new direction, one that we slowly realize as our destiny from the beginning.  We get a new purpose.  We can actually be happy again.

Lord, thank you for Sundays!    

YOU’RE INVITED

Spring seems to bring a round of special occasions and invitations.  There are weddings, showers, graduations, and other events that take place before many of us disperse for summer.  In our family, we have a round of birthdays coming up, but come to think of it, every month is birthday month in our big family.  You may be receiving invitations to one event or another every week.  But I wonder if you have ever been uninvited?

Have you ever heard about a party or special event and wondered, “Why wasn’t I included?”  You may wonder why you are not an A-lister or part of the in crowd.  Why are you left out?  Maybe you are the wrong color or gender; maybe you wear the wrong clothes, or don’t live in the right neighborhood or drive the right car.    And the big lie you believe: “You are not good enough!”  If you buy into that lie, I wonder if you have ever worn yourself out trying to get good enough.   It’s exhausting.  

I was thinking about these things this morning, Good Friday.   It is always the heaviest, hardest day of the year for me as I remember how Jesus suffered.  But in many ways it is the best day of the year.  I guess that is why it is Good Friday.  Because of today I am invited to a party like no other.  John writes about it in the Book of Revelation.  I can’t think of enough superlatives to describe it, so I will compare it to another big event that is coming up.  And no, I am definitely not invited to this one!  In a few weeks the world is going to witness the big elaborate coronation of King Charles.  England will pull out all her jewels and pageantry.  But it will pale in comparison to the coronation of King Jesus.  I am invited!  And my invitation came because of Good Friday.

In every other religion I can think of, man has to work himself up to a god.  Keep enough laws, do enough good things, stay away from all the “don’ts” and then maybe, he will be good enough to reach his god or whatever form of peaceful place he has imagined.  Christianity is the only religion (and I hate that word) where God comes down to man.  God says, and I paraphrase, you can’t get good enough to reach me; you can’t do enough good things to be in relationship (better word) with me.  You are separated from me because you are sinful and I am holy.  So I will come down to you.  I will come in the form of a human, live a sinless life, and suffer and die on a cross to pay for your sins.  I will make a way, and it is the only way because without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sin (Heb. 9:22).   And not only that, I am going to conquer death by rising from the grave and going back to Heaven to prepare a place for you. 

Here is the invitation: “Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends”  (Rev. 3:20).   You may be wondering how to RSVP to your invitation.  All you must do is agree with God that you are a sinner, believe that Christ died for your sins and ask for forgiveness.   Then turn away from your sins.  If you would like to open your heart to Jesus on this Good Friday, you can pray something like this.  The words are not what are important; it is the attitude of your heart.

Lord, I confess to you that I am a sinner. I believe Jesus Christ is Your Son. I believe that He died
for my sin and that you raised Him to life.
I want to trust Him as my Savior and follow Him as Lord,
from this day forward. Guide my life and help me to do your will.

I pray this in the name of Jesus. Amen.”

Things Are Not as They Seem

This journey through my “golden years” continues to surprise and challenge me.  My newest issue is my vision.  I am going to finally get cataract surgery.  “You will love it,” my friends say.  “You will wonder why you waited.”  “It’s a piece of cake,” they say.  I have barely begun the process and I have already encountered what is for me, a big problem.  Bifocals.  You may be thinking, “I’ve worn bifocals for years.  What’s the big deal?”

I have worn monovision contact lenses for years with few problems.   With monovision, the dominant eye is corrected for distance while the other eye is corrected for near viewing.  I thought I would be able to wear my contacts right up until surgery, but I was told I would need to be in bifocal glasses for a few weeks so that the eye surgeon can get accurate measurements of my corneas.  Evidently wearing contacts causes a problem with measurements. 

I picked out a cute pair of frames and thought wearing them for a few weeks would be no problem.  Oh boy, was I wrong about that!  My brain, used to monovison, and my eyes, looking through bifocal lenses, do not want to work together at all!  Shapes are distorted, I can’t tell distances, and my sense of balance, already wobbly, is now even more compromised.  I know this computer screen I am looking at is rectangular, but it looks more like a parallelogram.  I know where I keep small salad plates, but when I pull them out they look like oblong platters.  I know there is a step down into the garage, but if I don’t hold onto the wall I am going to miss it.  I feel like I am living in a fun house with distorting mirrors and uneven floors.  And I have picked up a few bruises by trusting my eyes.  It is taking awhile for my brain and my eyes to sync.  In the meantime I must trust what I know to be true, and not rely on my distorted vision.    

I was thinking about how life is not always as it seems.  For the community of Covenant Presbyterian Church and School, Monday morning looked like a normal day.  Tucked into a pretty, upscale neighborhood in Nashville, the school looked like a safe place for children and staff.  Parents dropped their children off thinking they would see them again in the afternoon.  The pastor may have been working on a Palm Sunday message, not imagining that his nine-year old daughter would be murdered.  Life looked safe and normal, but the evil no one could see was ready to strike.

How do we cope when tragedy strikes?  When, like the tornado victims in 

Alabama, all we can see is loss and devastation?  When hope seems gone?  It is during those times that we must trust what we know to be true.  Here is what I know:

  • I know that God is good.  All the time.  Even when the world is full of evil, God is still good.
  • I know that Jesus told us that we would have troubles as long as we are on this earth.  But I also know that He promised we would not have to face those troubles alone.  That He would walk with us through our hard places.
  • I know that God can bring good out of the worst.  Even when life seems hopeless and black, there is still good.  Even when our pain is screaming so loudly that we can barely hear anything else, God’s voice is stronger still.  “I love you.  I will care for you.”
  • I know that God is sovereign.  He is still on the throne and He is in control.  Even when a tornado rips our world to shreds, He is not caught off guard.  He still has a plan for our welfare and His glory.     
  • I know that even when the world strips us of everything we hold dear, He will still supply all our needs.
  • I know that in our darkest hours, we must walk by faith and not by sight.  

REBOOTING

I am a gadget girl.  I love my electronics, even though I have to admit there can be times when they are frustrating.  Last Friday we changed our TV and Internet service and it’s not the simple plug and play they told us it would be.  We are getting it all figured out, but I had no idea how many devices there are in our house that needed a new password.  Twenty-two!  And I am still finding them!  Definitely a first world problem and a minor frustration, but frustrating nonetheless. 

Last fall I had to replace my Apple watch.  I had a first generation model and was beginning to have some problems so I decided it was time.  A few days ago I ran into a problem with it.  It wouldn’t swipe down.  For those of you who may be unfamiliar with Apple watches, there is a little red dot that appears at the top of the dial to let you know that you have notifications.  When you swipe down, the notifications are revealed and you can respond or delete them.  Most of the time these notifications are just a nuisance.  (Note to self: review my notification settings.)  And they are distractions from what I am doing at the moment.  However it was really bothering me that I could not swipe down; I want things to work the way they are supposed to work.  Finally I consulted Google.  DUH!  Turn it off; let it rest; then restart it.  Why is it so easy to forget this simple fix?  I reboot things all the time.  In fact, we have been rebooting our TV a LOT trying to get all our apps up and running.  This simple step of rebooting fixed my problem, but also reminded me of something the Lord has been trying to teach me.

Every year, as the months start running down, I begin asking the Lord to give me a word for the New Year.  What does He want to teach me or how does He want to direct me?  My word for 2023 came earlier in the fall than usual and it came clearly.  My word is “quiet.”  As I pondered that word different synonyms also came to mind: “still,” “rest.”  I have been harvesting verses with those words and meditating on them.  What does being quiet and still look like for me?

Quiet does not come easily to me.  I was that little girl who got “Talks too much” on her report card.  Once I got “Whispers too much” so I guess that was progress.  I have been consciously trying to speak less and listen more.  That’s really hard for me because I always want to weigh in on things.  I think I have important things to say.  Witticisms and bon mots.  But surprisingly (to me) no one has noticed that I am speaking less.  Maybe the world doesn’t need my opinions after all.  And I have noticed that things happen when I speak less.  There is a famous quote that says, “The quieter you are the more you are able to hear.”   In the words of Frasier Crane, “I’m listening.”   

At first I thought “quiet” meant spending more time in God’s word and eliminating some activities.  But what do I cut out?  I enjoy the things I do.  However I am feeling the urge to unplug, to spend some time in off mode.  And the more I do it, the more I enjoy it.  I may be one of the few people who actually enjoyed the recent icy days we had, days of staying home and being quiet.  

I am only six weeks into this word so I know the Lord has much to teach me.  I am just trying to be obedient and quiet.  I love this passage from The Kite Runner: 

“Quiet is peace. Tranquility. Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life. Silence is pushing the off button. Shutting it down. All of it.”

If you are trying to reach me, I am rebooting.

FREEZE THE FRAME

Christmas 2022 is in the books.  The presents have all been unwrapped and the decorations put away until next year, although as I type these words I see a Christmas pillow that needs go in the attic.  We were talking with our girls about Christmas when I made the comment that this has been my best Christmas ever.  Our daughter Kristie thoughtfully asked, “Mom, what do you think made it your favorite?”  

It is hard to put into words, this overflowing heart feeling.  I am so grateful that once again we got to have our entire immediate family together on Christmas morning.  The past two years have been rough, with deaths of extended family members, Covid, and two sons-in-law who have battled cancer.  So it was a blessing that we could all be together and healthy.  Thank you, Lord.

The photo that you see is a picture of Jerry and I with all our grands and greats.  I wish our daughters and their husbands could have been in the picture too, but I’m not sure how we could have accommodated 24 of us on the stairs and in one snapshot.  As I look at this picture my heart is full, but at the same time there is a feeling of sadness.  I know it won’t always be this way.  We have a lot of moving parts, and now, even our parts have parts.  Two of our grands are now married and have in-laws.  I can remember having to make the rounds with children at Christmas…three turkey dinners in 24 hours!  We finally got to the point where we wanted to have a less hectic Christmas in our own home.  And so will our grandchildren.  It is a natural, expected part of life.  

The problem with “lasts” is that you often don’t recognize it’s a last until it is gone.  I am remembering Christmases with all my siblings at our grandparent’s house.  When was the last time?  I can’t even remember.  But oh how I wish for five more minutes, like in the Hallmark movies.  But then we would have to part all over again and I don’t think I could bear it.  

Why was this my best Christmas?  This photo that you see?  I want to freeze it and make time stand still, put my arms around all my babies and hold them close.  I think Michael W. Smith says it so much better than I can in his song, “Freeze the Frame.”  I dare you to read the lyrics and watch the video with dry eyes. 

All my favorite people
Gathered in one place
This cold December evening
My eyes go face to face

Drinking in the joy I feel
For all the love we share
There’s no song as sweet as family
Voices in the air

Can we freeze the frame

And stop the hands of time?
Make the moon stand still in the sky?


My only wish this Christmas Eve
Is that we could all remain 

Forever here


Can we freeze the frame?

Hard to make it happen
But everybody’s home
And the ones who once were children
Now have children of their own

Time around the table
And time around the tree
These moments in these rooms tonight
Are everything I dream

Can we freeze the frame
And stop the hands of time?
Make the moon stand still in the sky?


My only wish this Christmas Eve
Is that we could all remain 

Forever here


Can we freeze the frame?

It’s something close to sacred
I’m on the edge of tears
We don’t need the presents
It’s just the presence
Of the people gathered here

Oh, can we freeze the frame
And stop the hands of time?
Make the moon stand still in the sky?


My only wish this Christmas Eve
Is that we could all remain 

Forever here


Can we freeze the frame? (Ooh…)

Forever here
Can we freeze the frame?

Ooo-ooh-ooh…

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Michael Whitaker Smith / Tony Webster Wood

A DISAPPOINTING SEASON

This should be an exciting weekend for Sooner football fans, but it’s not.  The Big 12 Championship is Saturday, but OU is not playing.  Instead of heading to Dallas, the Sooners are barely bowl eligible, and I am wondering what bowl will want us.  But no matter what bowl invitation we receive, we need to gratefully accept so we can get those extra practice days.  Because, oh my gosh, do we ever need extra practice!   Eighth in the Big 12!  Ouch!

Jerry and I have had season tickets since the ‘80s, but this year we decided not to renew, and this might have been a good year to let them go.  We have had so many happy memories in Norman, but the late games got too late for us old people.  Even if we left in the fourth quarter we wouldn’t get home until after midnight, and we have church at 8:30 AM on Sundays.  As it turned out, the Sooners were so bad this year most games were at 11:00.  We weren’t ready for prime time.  I guess we could have held on to our seats after all, but ugh!  We are not used to losing our home games so maybe it was just as well.  

Out of all the disappointments life can throw at us, a bad football season is a mere blip on our timeline.  In the end, it won’t matter.  In fact, it might not even matter next year.  But all of us go through disappointing seasons from time to time that do matter.  Maybe you are going through one now.  A prodigal child, a bad diagnosis, a job you hate or a job you just lost.  Maybe the balance in your checking account stays so low you wonder how you will make it.  And it’s Christmas.  Maybe you are experiencing disappointments in a relationship.  A lost friendship, a broken marriage, or an estrangement in the family.  I don’t know what your disappointing season is, but I understand the pain.

I have lived long enough to know two things about disappointing seasons: (1) they don’t last, and (2) what happens to you in life is not nearly as important as what you tell yourself about it.  If you tell yourself that things are horrible and they will never change, you are going to feel depressed and powerless.  There is another way to look at disappointing seasons.  You may be in a rebuilding year.  That word, rebuilding, carries with it hope and self-efficacy.

I remember listening to a talk James Dobson gave on the radio years ago.  I don’t remember the exact topic, but I remember these words.  “Things tend to go the way they are going.   If things are moving in the wrong direction, do whatever it takes to turn them around.”  What do you need to get rid of, and what do you need to keep?  What can you do differently?  What things can you control, and what do you need to surrender.  If you keep on doing the same things, you will keep getting the same results.  If you have been trying something that isn’t working, doing it harder, more frequently, or louder will not change things.  I am sure the coaching staff at OU is evaluating what needs to be changed and what needs to be done better.  That is what you do during a rebuilding year.

Maybe you need to swallow your pride and reach out to that angry friend or family member.  Perhaps it’s time to look for a new job or to acquire some new job skills.  Maybe it’s time to do what you can to rebuild your health.  

Above all, pray.  Ask for wisdom and direction.  I sometimes hear people say, “At least I can pray.” Friend, praying isn’t the least you can do, it’s the most! 

If you are in a disappointing season I challenge you to make 2023 your rebuilding year.  Champions do what it takes to come back.

THANKFUL

I awoke this morning to a chilly reading on the thermometer and a light dusting of snow on the ground and housetops.  With Thanksgiving less than a week away, I decided today would be a perfect day to make my dressing.  The house is redolent with the aromas of freshly baked cornbread, along with celery and onions sautéing in a bath of melted butter.  Short of a turkey roasting in the oven, I can’t think any smell more evocative of Thanksgiving.  Even though it is a gray day outside, the lights from the Christmas tree create a festive atmosphere indoors.  The sounds of glorious Christmas music fill the air while the dishwasher is hums along as it gives my holiday glassware a good cleansing, necessary after a year in my Great Aunt Fannie Belle’s china cabinet.  This is my happy place and my heart is overflowing with gratitude.

We will have 18-ish at our table this year.  It’s a moving target, but there will be plenty of food for anyone who shows up at the last minute.  We are grateful for everyone who can make it, and will miss those who cannot.  With grown children and mostly-grown grands, we have a lot of moving parts now.  I try to stay flexible, thankful that I can host this holiday and mindful of my days getting shorter.  Next year is not guaranteed.  I can remember my grandmother saying the same thing at holidays in the passed.  I dismissed it as something an old woman says, but mostly because I just could not fathom a holiday without her.  Oh how I wish she could be with us this year.  

As I think back over the year, we have many reasons to be thankful on this day of thanks.  Has it been all lollipops and roses?  Absolutely not!  But Jesus has walked with us every day.  There have been days of laughter and fun, but also days of tears and grief.  We have had days that surprised us with joy and days that kicked us in the gut.  Days of celebrations and days of terrifying uncertainty.  There were nights that robbed us of sleep as we gave way to fear. And there were days that left us scratching our heads in dismay.  Although we don’t enjoy the bad days, they make the good days all the more sweet.  And there were more good days than bad! 

If I try to list all my blessings I will certainly miss some, but here is a start.  I am grateful for an enduring marriage and my husband Jerry who survived a near-fatal illness a few years ago.  Every day one of us says, “We got another day.”  We know these are bonus days and we don’t take them for granted.  I am so thankful for my growing family, and grateful for extended family scattered across America.  To those who can’t be with us, I wish you a very happy thanksgiving.  We have an empty chair at our table this year as our Mimi left us to join her beloved husband in Heaven.  Mindful of others who have left us, I can still say God has blessed us.  

When I think of all our friends, my heart could almost burst.  We have precious life-long friends, and those who have come along more recently.  I am grateful for a Bible-teaching church and a fellowship of Believers who hold the ropes for each other.  I am thankful for 48 years of affiliation with Stonecroft Ministries and the opportunities to share the Gospel.  I love my Tulsa Woven girls!  I am blessed to attend Community Bible Study, where I have deepened my relationship with the Lord and made deep friendships.  Bible Quilt Journaling and the ladies who are a part of it bless me with a different method of meditating on Scripture.

It is noon and the alarm on my watch has just alerted me to pray for America.  I have thought many times how grateful I am that I was born in the USA.  Oh how I love this beautiful land of ours, and how I long to see another Great Awakening.  Jerry and I have been blessed to see a good deal of America, but there are still National Parks we hope to explore.  I am grateful for the freedoms we have, and for those who died to protect those freedoms.

Most of all, I am thankful for the privilege of knowing God and His Son, Jesus Christ.  He has provided me with everything I need, and kept every promise He has made to me.  I don’t know what the future holds, but I know the One who holds the future.  And for that I am indescribably thankful.

I will be your God throughout your lifetime— until your hair is white with age. I made you, and I will care for you. I will carry you along and save you.  Is. 46:4 NLT

IF I HAD A HAMMER

Last night a lively group of women met at the historic Campbell Hotel for a fun-filled evening with the fabulous Amber Welch and her equally fabulous mother, Jere Welch.  It was our October gathering of Tulsa Woven, and if you are not a part of us you really should be.  Amber and her mom own the amazing Amber Marie stores, including their spectacular new Christmas store at Utica Square.  Amber was with us not only to share her story, but also to teach us how to make bows.  If you have ever been in her store you know she makes the most beautiful bows!  Mine are more of the Target stick-on variety, so I was especially excited about this activity. 

Our price for the event included an EZ Bow Maker.  We were told to bring a pair of scissors and ribbon, or we could purchase some of the beautiful ribbon that Amber brought with her.  Here’s the thing about the EZ Bow maker…it comes unassembled.  As I took it out of the box I heard someone say, “Does anyone have a hammer or a mallet?”  Seriously?  Which one of these ladies is going to pull a hammer out of her Mary Poppins bag I wondered, although earlier in the day as I was cleaning out my own handbag, I found a Spode pie server.  How long have I been walking around with that?  But back to the question, does anyone have a hammer or a mallet?  Imagine my surprise when I heard someone say, “I do.  I have a hammer and a mallet in my trunk!  I’m a realtor!”  A first-timer at a Woven event, she saved the day by not only having the necessary hammer, but by quickly assembling 40-some-odd EZ Bow Makers.

As I have thought about last evening over my morning coffee, it occurred to me how just like God it is to provide a solution to a problem we didn’t know we were going to encounter.  The Bible tells us that God Himself personally goes before us.  We have no need to fear whatever may lie ahead.  And we can never be prepared for every eventuality, but God already has it covered.  One of my favorite passages in Scripture, Psalm 139, tells us that God has recorded all our days in His book.  Sometimes we find ourselves going to God with the big, macro events, but he is concerned with everything in our lives.  Even the small things.  And He has gone ahead of us.  All we have to do is trust Him.

The most important way God has gone ahead of me was to provide a Savior before I ever knew I needed one.  The Bible tells us that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Rom. 5:8).  God provided a way for me to have a relationship with Him because He knew I would not be able to find Him on my own.   

The ladies who planned last night’s event planned and prayed.  We planned the best way we could and we asked God to take care of every detail.  We never imagined that we would need a hammer, but God knew all about it.  All we had to do was pray and trust.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.  Prov. 3:5-6 

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