Carpet Face Prayer Days

You could tell it was a Monday.

I did optimistically take some school pictures.

See how hard they work.

Isn't writing time at the park fun?

Let me tell you, these pictures are false advertising.

They don't  honesty convey the thoughts and attitudes of the day.

I need pictures that say this:

"I don't feel good."

"I'm tired."

"Do I have to do this?"

"Can I have a break?"

"Why can't I do it later?"

"Can I skip this part?"

"I'm starving."

"My hand is tired."

"Are we almost done?"

Truth is, I felt the same way. 

"Do I have to do this?"

So there I was today, laying on the bedroom floor at 5:00 pm,

 praying for just a little bit of joy to finish out the day.  

Only God could redeem the mess we had made of the previous 8 hours.

Some days are like that.

Carpet face prayer days.

~ ~ ~

Most days we have family devotions after supper.  

 Let's just stop right there, lest you think too highly of that statement.  

It's rarely as lovely as we would like it to be.

But there is this new thing I love:

 the prayer jar.

Each stick in the jar has a prayer request:

"Grandma and Grandpa"

"Orphans"

"Ethiopia"

"More opportunities to show love"

"More faith"

"Manny P."

We sit on the couch and pass the jar, 

each person taking as many sticks as they'd like to pray for.  

Then around the room we go.

I'm not going to lie.

It's a beautiful thing.

Beautiful enough to redeem the mess we had made of this day?

Yes, indeed.

Just one hour after my carpet faced prayer for joy,

Jacob prays in his own words,

"God, give our family love and joy, now, and for the rest of the day."

Amen?

AMEN.

This was the answer to my prayers.

This was my joy.

More than Flowers

Okay, Mrs. Garber Martin, you've twisted my arm.

Here's a Money Shot Monday (whatever that means).  

I rarely understand your quirky expressions, but I always love your ideas.

This is just the inspiration I needed.

Thanks, Shannan. You've been inspiring me for a long time.  

Now, if I can just figure out how to link up....

~ ~ ~

The 10 minutes of solitude carved out of my day were spent outside, quickly gathering the remnants of a summer garden gone wild, grabbing hold of the last bits of happy color.  The gusty fall winds blew hard, trying to chase me back inside to the comfort. The chilly air teased me for not wearing a jacket, for holding on to summer too long. Yet something kept me out there.

I was looking for more than flowers. 

I was looking hard for gratitude and for grace,

hoping to make something beautiful out of the noise and mess and brokenness in and around us.  

In a blustery, scraggly patch of zinnias, I found my joy bank filling up--  

filling up with beauty, just like this humble tin can.

Isn't she sweet?

I smile inside every time I walk by.

That 10 minute investment in gratitude will bring me at least a weeks worth of warm fuzzies.

Now that's a good investment.







Linking up with Flower Patch Farmgirl's Money Shot Monday! First link-up ever!!! Woo-hoo!!!

When the darkness closes in...

As August slowly ushers in the changing seasons in nature,

it also ushers in a subtle current of sadness.

It is a time to mourn.

Some years it sneaks in almost unexpectedly,
a feeling that you can't quite put your finger on.
Some years it explodes fierce and out of control.
This year, I watch for it.  I recognize it.  I let it be what it is.

This year, I'm trying hard to grieve with gratitude.

~ ~ ~

When we first moved back to town, we became reacquainted with Ray, a dear old friend of my Dad. Ray would walk past our house on his daily route and always stop to say "hi" to the kids and reminisce with us about the history of people and places he loved in this town.

One of those people he loved was my Dad.

Ray told us many stories, but one I hold close to my heart:

my Dad at the funeral for his young son.

This was not Dad's first loss. It was one of many in his lifetime.

Ray was at the funeral.  He stood there in line, wondering what to say to his friend, my Dad. What do you say to a man who has lost so much already? Before Ray could find the words, my Dad reached for Ray's hand and confidently proclaimed what he believed:

"The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.  
Blessed be the name of the Lord."

~ ~ ~

 I love that I have this story of my Dad's unwavering faith.
I love that all these years later his testimony, passed on through a witness,
 still stands fresh and bold in my heart.


I love that I can say it too.

I will still mourn. Tears will still flow. And I will still say,

"The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. 
Blessed be the name of the Lord."

The little things

In the morning, these flowers glow with sunshine outside my kitchen door.

So last week I took a few pictures, 
hoping to savor that basket of beauty 
before the dirty breakfast dishes called my name.

Then came the gift I might have missed;

a humming bird, wings catching the light for just an instant in my camera lens.

Click--I got it!!!  What a treasure!!!

I keep a close eye on that basket now. 

I'm hoping to see Mr. Hummingbird again.

If I don't come to the window and watch for him, 

I might not notice him, even though he's there.

~ ~ ~

Dear God, 
fill me with such hopeful anticipation, 
that I would eagerly seek to be in Your presence.
May each day be filled with grateful awareness of You.
Amen

All Along

Spring was way more busy than I like. 

Rarely a minute alone.  Rarely a minute together.
We are just beginning to slow down.

As my hundreds of pictures are loaded onto the computer,
my eyes finally see what the hurried pace left behind.

The lens has seen and saved what I was missing. 
God was pouring out the gifts all along.

And now,

finally,

weeks later,

thanks to the lens that saved bits and pieces,

I thankfully receive the gifts.


I see them here in the ordinary moments,

the rare moments,

the little bits of progress,

the sticky and sweet,

the bright and sunny,

the gorgeous growing,

the mysteriously made,

the  warm and fuzzy,

 the sleepy and furry,

the formal and fancy,

the fun lovey-dovey,

the simple and quiet, 

   the new old favorites,

and the surprise floating finds.

It's all so good.  It all matters.

 And I don't want to miss a thing.

Thank you, Hanna, for sharing a few!

This is the Day

"Listen to your life.  See it for the fathomless mystery it is.
In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness:
touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it,
because in the last analysis all moments are key moments,
and life itself is grace."


~Frederick Buechner, Now and Then: a Memoir of Vocation

 Some days I'm just trying to maneuver through the crazy that life throws at me.

The calendar is full of scribbled reminders of where to be and who does what and when.

Still... I forget, I mess up, I drop the ball.

Other days I'm home, but not really here.
I'm off wandering around in my head and in my heart,
looking back and missing what was,
longing for what could have been,
mourning over what will not be.

But more than anything,
I waste my todays wondering about my tomorrows.

I've been told that I'm a patient person,

 but what I really want to be is a
 present person.
Present in the present.

Today is where it's at.
The right here.  The right now.
Tomorrow doesn't come with guarantees.

But today?

Well, it's a gift still waiting to be unwrapped.
And the Giver knows exactly what we need.

A Sticky Holiday

 (click here to find the inspiration for our thanksgiving day breakfast! )

Jesus said, "In this world you will have trouble."

Now that's a strange way to start a Thanksgiving Day post.
I bet you're thinking I burnt the turkey this year. Nope! The food was delicious!
But holidays are an emotional minefield of sorts for me--
or for anyone that has experienced loss.  
The sweet memory making of today mingles with the bittersweet memories of the past.

There are just so many triggers--the traditions, the food, the scents, the songs, even the weather.

One minute I am down deep grateful for God's abundant provision. 

The next minute I am down deep longing for what's missing--
for who is missing from our celebrations.
It's a sticky situation.

"But take heart!"

What do we do with our hurting hearts?

Pretend all is well?  Hide the hurt under layers and layers of...something, anything?

No! What good is a buried heart?  Besides, I've tried that.  It doesn't work.

  We live in a broken and sinful world.  We will hurt.
Our hearts would be numb if we didn't feel the pain right alongside the joy.

 Here's the good news for hurting hearts.

There is reason to hope for--even long for-- something more, something better.

 "I have overcome the world!" 

John 16:33

God wins! One day, God will make all things right.
Complete restoration.  No more brokenness. No more tears.
Thanks to Jesus, we can live each day in joyful anticipation for our heavenly home.
And while we're here, we need to share that good news to a hurting world.
We need to wake up each new day and choose to see the gifts and receive the grace.


Yes, some days are harder than others. Some lives are harder than others.
But everyday with God there is joy to be had and love to be shared.

Remember, the future is bright.  Take heart, and give thanks.

~ ~ ~

My heart is filled with thankfulness
To Him who bore my pain
Who plumbed the depths of my disgrace
And gave me life again
Who crushed my curse of sinfulness
And clothed me with His light
And wrote His law of righteousness
With pow'r upon my heart

My heart is filled with thankfulness
To Him who walks beside
Who floods my weaknesses with strength
And causes fears to fly
Whose every promise is enough
For every step I take
Sustaining me with arms of love
And crowning me with grace

My heart is filled with thankfulness
To Him who reigns above
Whose wisdom is my perfect peace
Whose every thought is love
For every day I have on earth
Is given by the King
So I will give my life my all
To love and follow Him

(source)