1 + 1

There are 24 hours in a day, 7 days in a week.

I spend about 7-8 of those hours sleeping.

There are 4 children, 1 husband.

3 meals to prepare, eat, and clean up.

There are 4 grades to teach to 4 different ages.

We spend approximately 6-8 hours each day on schoolwork.

About 1 hour is devoted to daily chores.

Extra-curricular activities keep me running for 4-5 nights of the week.

Church services and activities keep me busy about 4-8 hours on the weekends.

There are 8 dances classes.

There are nightly theater rehearsals.

Violin lessons.  Voice lessons.  Band rehearsals.

There is quality time with family.  With friends.

There is being a mom, and not just a teacher.

There is being a wife.  A wife who is not too weary to love her husband.

There are all of these things.

There is 1 of me.

But there is 1 of you, too.

1 God.
 
3 in 1.

And you are more than enough.

You are able to stretch my hours and my strength.

You are able to exceedingly meet every need.

When my 1 ends, your 1 begins.

And it is Good.

It is attainable.  It is reachable.

And it is Good.

It is Great.

It is messy and unorganized and chaotic at times.

But it is our messy, unorganized chaos.

It's you and me.

1 + 1.

And 1 + 1 = GRACE.

I Am His

When I was a little girl, one of my favorite things to do was to pretend.  My family doesn't think of me as an outdoor girl, and I'm really not, but I did used to play outside a lot when I was little.  Except, I didn't play in the dirt or find much joy in physical activity like playing tag or baseball (although I did participate in these kind of sporty activities on occasion!!).  My favorite thing to do outside was to pretend. 

Whether under the shade of a big tree, up in the branches of a smaller tree (I'm no dare devil!), under the top of an old pick up truck, or sitting at the edge of a creek, I loved to pretend...or imagine.  I could sit for hours and just imagine.  When I got older, I would use my times of imagination to write...sometimes stories, sometimes journal entries, and sometimes, when the imagination turned into reflection, poems.  I was too young to realize that my love for these moments was due to my connection with the Maker of these moments.

There was something special about being out in nature, all alone.  I still find that it is in those quiet moments outside, in the vast expanse of His creation, that I feel as if I'm in a different dimension.  I feel as though He is so near to me that I could almost reach out and touch Him.  All of the noise of life fades away and I become, if only for a little while, me.  The real me, my soul exposed and laid bare for Him alone to see.  And I allow myself to let go of everything, all of the pressures and demands of motherhood and marriage, the past failures and mistakes that still haunt me, the unknown elements of the future that threaten to dismantle my sanity on a daily basis.  I let go, and I just...feel.  I feel His sovereignty and His greatness wash over me.  I feel Him looking at me and knowing me, like no one else in the entire world.  And I feel Him forgiving me, loving me, washing me anew. 

As the breeze blows through the trees and lifts tiny tendrils of hair off my brow, I feel taken care of and cherished, as if He himself were caressing my face and smiling into my eyes.  When the birds sing, I hear His love song for me and allow it to resonate into the deepest parts of my spirit. 

I don't feel like I'm one of a billion.  I feel like I'm one in a billion.  I am special.

I am His.  And He is mine.  

What's My Gift?

Recently, I listened to our children's pastor tell a group of kids that every single one of them had a God-given gift waiting to be discovered.  I believe him.  In fact, I know it to be true, way down deep, in my know-er.  Of course, God has placed a unique gift inside each of us, and fully expects us to discover it and utilize it for His kingdom.  But, as I sat there, just as intent on what he was saying as the fifteen or so children in the room, I couldn't help but do some self-examining.  And I asked myself the same question that I've asked many times before.

What is my gift?

I'm 37 years old and I truly do not know.  It can't be anything too incredible or I would have found it by now.  Right?  Or am I blinded to the truth by my insecurities, my past, my many failures?  .

Wouldn't it be ideal if we were just born with a clear-cut label?  You know, a stamp on our rear that said something like: ARTIST, MUSICIAN...FINANCIAL WIZARD.  Psshh....well I know that's not what mine would say. 

But really, though.  I am a decent writer.  I can carry a tune and somewhat sing parts if I try really hard.  I can read like it's nobody's business.  I'm slightly ok at motherhood, but I certainly don't deserve a cape.  I love acting and I feel like I'm not too bad at it.  Do I feel particularly gifted in any area?  Honestly, no. 

But, if it's true that each and every one of us was born with a gift, then I must have one.  Apparently, I just haven't been able to dig it out yet.  Why is it that some people live these amazingly talented lives from childhood, but others have to really dig deep to find their gifts?

Don't get me wrong...I'm happy for all of those people out there!  Where would we be without them?  And I don't have this burning desire to find my gift so that I can be noticed.  I just don't want to miss out on doing something special for God with my life.  If there are things he intended me to do, I want to do them!

So, how do you discover your hidden gifts?  That is the question on my mind and the one I intend to focus my prayers on for a while.  I'll let you know if I come to any new revelation. 

Until next time...

In Love with His Word

By your words I can see where I'm going; they throw a beam of light on my dark path.  I've committed myself and I'll never turn back from living by your righteous order.  Everything's falling apart on me, God; put me together with your Word.  Festoon  me with your finest sayings, God; teach me your holy rules.  My life is as close as my own hands, but I don't forget what you have revealed.  The wicked do their best to throw me off track,  but I don't swerve an inch from your course.  I inherited your book on living; it's mine forever - what a gift!  And how happy it makes me!
 ~Psalm 119:105-112 MSG

For Those of You Who Think You Know Me

For those of you who think my life is perfect, it’s far from it.

But I serve a perfect God who fills me with joy in spite of circumstances.

For those of you who think I have no stains in my past, you would be wrong.

But my God makes all things new and has redeemed me from the pit and broken my chains of bondage.

For those of you who think I’ve never experienced hurt, you would be greatly surprised.

But my God has the name of Healer and is the ultimate Heart Surgeon. 

For those of you who think I don’t struggle daily, please think again.

But my help comes from the Lord and His strength is made perfect in my weaknesses.

For those of you who think that I am a little over the top with my faith, and slightly obsessed with my Jesus…well, you would be right.  I can’t get enough of Him and never want to stop trying.

You see, I love him like I could never possibly explain.  Not just because of what he’s done for me, though it is vastly much.  I love him because of who he is.  And I know who he is because I am finally, in my 30s, beginning to invest my time into a relationship with him like I never have before. 

Did you know that it takes time to get to know someone?  It takes time and it takes effort.  It takes sacrifice of self.

There were many years of acquaintanceship between He and I.  We met in passing and made brief conversation, sometimes with short bursts of desperate prayers in times of great need.  And yet He was faithful to meet me where I was, as messy and messed up as I was, and welcomed me with open arms.  It was then that I realized broken-heartedly and with great repentance that he had been faithful all along, even when I was not.  And then He Who Restores, full of mercy and grace, began with me on a journey that we will continue on until the day we meet face to face.

It is not always easy, this journey.  But it is our journey.  And we walk it hand-in-hand – the Savior and the Found, the Deliverer and the Delivered, the Father and the Child.  He promises to never leave me.  He promises me a life of abundance.  He promises me a love that never fails.  And He who is Faithful and True, He who loved me while yet I was still a sinner, He who went as far as the grave to redeem my life, He…will…always…keep…his…promises. 

For those of you who think I have it all together, I don’t.

I am a broken clay vessel that is being pieced back together by my Potter.  My chips and cracks are countless.  But my hope is that He Who Pours out His Spirit will constantly flow through me, not just into me…that through my cracks and broken pieces, the oil of His Spirit might drip onto someone around me and awaken a desire to know The God Who Saves.