Steadfast Love.

As I sang the first line of O Come All Ye Faithful at my church’s annual candle light service a thought hit me like a ton of bricks. I had always considered myself faithful but really I’m not. Well, I am in the marital sense. I mean I do not serve the Lord as faithfully as I’d like or as I ought.

I’d proved this fact the night before working in the school’s concession stand with my husband; just the two of us. I love my husband. He is delightfully ADHD. And bossy. And has a lot of energy. I am ok with who he is and I never want to stifle that in him. But let me tell you that night in the concession stand I sure was tempted to. I will not bore you with the details because they are ugly; and most of the ugliness was reactionary and came from me.

What I learned that night is I am not as faithful to my beliefs under stress, or when I am angry as I expect myself to be. To tell the truth and much to my annoyance I am still mad at him, and I am mad at myself for not conducting myself in a Christ like manner. I am disappointed in me.

The week before, during, and after the concession stand incident there has been a theme that has looped itself through my conscious and subconscious thought process. It was sparked when a friend of mine posted on Facebook she had the privilege of reading Lamentations 3:22-23; 31-33 at a funeral for her dear friend.

²² The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
    his mercies never come to an end;
²³ they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness

³¹ For the Lord will not
    cast off forever,
³² but, though he cause grief, he will have compassion
    according to the abundance of his steadfast love;
³³ for he does not afflict from his heart
    or grieve the children of men.

 (ESV)

I am sinful, I miss the mark, and I fail. Nonetheless His steadfast love never fails.

Please don't misunderstand what I am saying. I have always known I am not perfect and I fail, however, I have never been so acutely aware of the fact that I need a Savior as I am this Christmas season. His mercies are new every morning not because I quit sinning, not because others need His mercies, but because I.am.a.sinner. Failure is part of the human condition from which I am not exempt. 

I love how The Message interprets these passages from Lamentations, and I’m throwing in a couple of extra verses because I love how it reads.

^22-24 God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out,
    his merciful love couldn’t have dried up.
They’re created new every morning.
    How great your faithfulness!
I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over).
    He’s all I’ve got left.

^28-30 When life is heavy and hard to take,
    go off by yourself. Enter the silence.
Bow in prayer. Don’t ask questions:
    Wait for hope to appear.
Don’t run from trouble. Take it full-face.
    The “worst” is never the worst.

^31-33 Why? Because the Master won’t ever
    walk out and fail to return.
If he works severely, he also works tenderly.
    His stockpiles of loyal love are immense.
He takes no pleasure in making life hard,
    in throwing roadblocks in the way:

God’s love can’t run out, it can’t fail, it will never dry up. His mercies are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness even when I’m not faithful!

I am going to take some time this week to go off by myself, to enter into silence, bow my head in prayer, not run from or ignore this state I am in, and wait for His hope to appear.

This video is a song from the 70’s that has been playing in my mind. It is a great throwback and has an awesome message.Here’s to a great 2014 and the awesome fact His steadfast love never ceases!

Diligence in the Pit Stop.

We recently hit a yellow-caution light on the parental go-kart track of life. Thankfully it was a regrouping pit stop/wake up call and not a complete spin out. These warning flags are part of parenting and are to be expected. While we were dealing with the details the word impressed upon my mind was diligence, and how it pertains to parenting.

When I think about the word diligent my mind always goes to Hebrews 11:6 “But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that comes to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.” (AKJV) I was curious how and where else diligence is used in the Bible. What I found has deeply moved me.

What I found when used throughout the Old Testament (Hebrew) the word diligence conveys something done as a willful conscious effort with all one’s might and power until the task at hand is done; much like the rebuilders of the wall in Ezra and Nehemiah. Some of the men were set to work at rebuilding the wall, defensive weapons in one hand building tools in the other. Some were set to be the guards, or the watchmen, they were to be on the lookout for enemies who were threatening the destruction of their hard work.

In the New Testament (Greek) the word diligence conveys a work or labor that is painstakingly, even elaborately, examined or investigated. It conveys a sense of urgency, and providing on the behalf of someone else.

A good example of this is 2 Corinthians 8:11-12 (MSG) “So here’s what I think: The best thing you can do right now is to finish what you started…You’ve got what it takes to finish it up, so go to it.”  Paul was urging the Corinthians to put to action their good ideas on the behalf of others.

When you bond the O.T. idea of zealous, willful, guarding, watching, perceiving, one-step-ahead-of, protection and warning with the N.T. painstaking, elaborate, examining, careful handling and the desire to be at one’s best on the behalf of and in action for another you get a parent.

Am I the perfect parent?! Goodness no! Will I always be a step ahead of or aware of everything which takes place in the lives of my kids? No! Are there days parenting gets exhausting? Yes! But by the grace of God and a little help from others I will strive to be diligent and continue to steer them in the direction they are supposed to be going.

  

This experience has been a good reminder that although my children no longer require the constant supervision they did as littles they still need me to be their ‘watchman’ to help them become the men they were designed to be.

The Big Reveal

I am obsessed with HGTV. I enjoy watching House Hunters because I am intrigued by how inexpensive housing is in other parts of the country. However, my favorite shows are the ones where they completely remodel an old junker to something completely fabulous in 30 to 60 minutes. For some reason (maybe because my homes have been in a perpetual state of remodel my entire married life) it gives me a sense of closure a sense of completeness. I can watch these shows back to back to back.

I am fascinated by the big reveal at the closing of these shows because I like to watch the looks of awe on the part of the home owners. Inevitably their newly finished home goes beyond their wildest dreams and expectations. A great portion of the time these people are overwhelmed with emotion at the greatness which lies before them. Some even become apologetic for arguing with and not wanting to relinquish control to the designer. I, however, am a mere observer watching these designers work their miracles.

As the Christmas season approaches the name for Christ which is foremost in my mind is Emmanuel ~ God with us. I love this name for Him and am reminded of a song we used to sing at church in the 80’s simply titled Emmanuel.

Emmanuel, Emmanuel,
His name is called
Emmanuel.
God with us,
Revealed in us,
His name is called
Emmanuel.

Emmanuel, Emmanuel,
Your name is called
Emmanuel
God with us
Revealed in us,
Your name is called
Emmanuel.

(posted from Lyrster.com)

There is that word reveal.

I have been mulling over this word reveal for the past six weeks and what it means in light of Emmanuel being revealed in me. Am I an accurate revelation of Christ?

When people are around me does my life reveal the emotion inducing design revealing awesomeness that Christ is? When people are with me are they able to observe an everlasting-chain-breaking love? Are they able to rejoice and become emotional because of what they see the Master Designer can and will do with their lives? Kind of like the emotional people on HGTV?

Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying I am Christ. Nor do I believe that every single second of every single day is going to be a mountain top experience with Christ where I shine His love perfectly. There are days that are going to be rotten. Kind of like the remodeling on HGTV where they hit dry rot, or mold, or knob and tube wiring that has to be replaced. What I am saying is I am, as Christians we are, the vessels through which the Designer is choosing to reveal Himself. My words, my actions, the freedom I am to live and walk in are the revelation that He is Emmanuel God with us!

He can take this old junker heart of mine and redesign me so He is revealed in His awesomeness; if I will relinquish control to the Master Designer.

I leave you with the song God With Us by Mercy Me.

Can I Help You With That?

Around Labor Day this year my husband decided to pour a concrete slab for a partial basketball court for our boys. I have accumulated many funny-concrete-pouring stories over the past twenty-plus years. I will spare you those.

On this particular concrete pour our good friend who is a rock mason, and experienced in pouring concrete, came to help my husband. Our friend brought his three youngest children with him; the littlest is his only girl.

After the cement truck came and went I went inside to straighten up my kitchen. Our friend's little girl followed me in shortly thereafter. As I was scurrying around my kitchen I started to unload a grocery sack that was lying on the floor that had cans of chili in it.

“Can I help you with that?” She asked. Wow; six simple yet powerful words! I was elated  with her offer of help.

I wonder how many times I've missed out on an opportunity to help someone else because I was too busy, or too wrapped up in my own stuff? Or because I was being selfish with my time and talent? Or because I was frozen in my tracks with fear of not ‘doing it right’?

I wonder how many times I have passed on help from my Heavenly Father because I didn’t avail myself of His help.

My latest word fascination is with the word incline. As in He inclines His ear to us when we ask Him for help. I ran across the word incline in a Psalm the other night.

Incline your ear to me

rescue me speedily!

Be a rock of refuge for me,

A strong fortress to save me!

Psalm 31:2 (ESV)

In another version:

Get down on my level and listen,

And please-no procrastination!

Your granite cave a hiding place,

Your high cliff aerie a place of safety.

(The Message 31:1-2)

There are several different Hebrew words used in the Old Testament for our English word incline. Most of them include common definitions. Words such as to be drawn, to hear, to be attentive, heed, to pay attention, to stretch out, extend, to bend down, to bend, and to bow.

I get the mental picture of a benevolent Father with a small child bending down to get on eye level or bending gently to pick up a child that needs comforted.

I think all too often we see God only seated on the Throne in His Sovereignty and not inclined towards us in His love.

There is one instance of incline used in the Greek in the New Testament that stands out and overwhelms me beyond words and beyond tears.

After he took the wine, Jesus said,

"It's done . . . complete."

Bowing his head, he offered up his spirit.

John 19:30 (MSG)

This was the ultimate act of God inclining, bending, and bowing towards humankind. May I ever be aware of His desire to bend towards me everyday of my life. 

Cursing at Pie Crust and Other Things I Don’t Want You to Know I Do.

First of all let me apologize to my church ‘Aunties’. Well, and probably my mother too, but she’s used to me by now.

Every time I make an apple pie with homemade crust I think I should be given an award for the ugliest-best-tasting pie! I have never gotten the knack for rolling pie plate shaped crusts that don’t fall apart on transfer from cutting board to pie plate. (I have since learned they need to go in the fridge for five to ten minutes.)

So the other day as I was transferring the latest ugly crust to the pie plate and it fell into a million pieces in the space between the cutting board and the pie plate I said a word you definitely can’t say from the platform at church. Well you could but… ya, no.

I thought what would your church Aunties think about that? Well after they got over their shock they would probably say nice mouth DenaRae and love me anyways. Not that they would condone the language. Neither do I to tell you the truth, but hopefully they’d go home and pray that I’d stop cussing because honestly I’m trying to. But it is a habit a long time in the making.

I remember one occasion when I still had my driver’s permit and someone cut me off in traffic. I let loose with a hand gesture and a string of four letter words…and then I remembered my mom was in the car. “DenaRae young ladies don’t act like that and they don’t talk like that!” was all she said. It’s probably a good thing my dad wasn’t in the car.

What’s my point why am I telling you all this? There are days I am so frustrated with where I am in the process of my life. I’m not just talking about cursing at the pie crust either. There are many facets of my life where I can see where I want to be, yet I feel as if I am perpetually stuck on level 33 in Candy Crush not able to clear the required jellies to get to the next level. Somehow I don’t think I am alone.

So today I choose to trust His process of who I am becoming. The woman He designed me to be. 

Pliable…

Sometimes I wonder if there is something wrong with my comprehension skills. I can be in situations and only realize the enormity of them at a later time.

Most recently this happened when I was the sub for a teacher’s assistant at an elementary school. It was story time for what felt like a multitude of wiggly kindergarteners seated on the floor in front of me.

The story was about a little girl with super-curly super-long blonde hair that seemed to make an entrance into rooms before she did. As I was half way through the story one little girl raised her hand. I called on her because I thought she wanted to say something about the main character of the story.

Instead she said this: “When my mom gets out of jail she’s going to take me to the store to buy gum and candy…” And I think the end of her sentence was “and all sorts of stuff.” But I was so stunned I went numb and didn’t really hear the rest of her sentence.

What do you do with that? I meaning really. I was so taken aback all I could do was redirect her attention back to the story. When I got home that night I said something to Doug. It about killed him.

I feel so deeply for this little girl, and I feel deeply for her momma as well. It is nobody’s Plan A, nobody’s life long dream to be sitting in a jail cell promising their child a trip to the store to buy candy upon their release. The cycle for this momma probably goes mess up, guilt, shame, mess up, wash, rinse repeat.

As I walk this stretch of my life my heart breaks and I’ve had an epiphany. I have spent so much time being frustrated and not understanding why what I’ve had planned didn’t work out the way I thought it should, or the way I’ve wanted…Nicaragua, my writing and speaking, and working for the school being prime examples… I haven’t seen His hand maneuvering me to where I need to be. I have walked a path to make me who I am and I haven’t understood the ecclesiastical to everything there is a season and how it applies to my life.

I am starting to see what He is doing in me is opening my eyes to the hurt in people so I can be His hand extended. Whether it is to a single mother in the hills of Nicaragua, or to a woman who is ministered to by something I said or wrote, or to a kindergartner who needs kindness poured out on her to help her through her day.

I need to be pliable so when God closes a door I can recognize the window He has flung open for me to jump through. I need to be pliable so He can use me where He wants me to be, so when He whispers move over here I move! I need to be pliable, flexible and willing to go the places He has planned for me. This is so not me. So not my comfort zone.

I realize I not only need to become more pliable I need a deeper understanding of the word reassignment.

His Love Never Runs

Several months ago the worship team at church played the song One Thing Remains two Sundays in a row. I usually don’t pay much attention to such things.

The first Sunday they had it on their play list I felt led to write something about the song and its message. I had a picture in my mind’s eye about the prophet Elisha and the widow’s oil.

2 Kings 4:1-7   The Widow’s Olive Oil

4 The wife of a man from the company of the prophets cried out to Elisha, “Your servant my husband is dead, and you know that he revered the Lord. But now his creditor is coming to take my two boys as his slaves.”

² Elisha replied to her, “How can I help you? Tell me, what do you have in your house?”

“Your servant has nothing there at all,” she said, “except a small jar of olive oil.”

³ Elisha said, “Go around and ask all your neighbors for empty jars. Don’t ask for just a few.⁴ Then go inside and shut the door behind you and your sons. Pour oil into all the jars, and as each is filled, put it to one side.”

⁵ She left him and shut the door behind her and her sons. They brought the jars to her and she kept pouring. ⁶ When all the jars were full, she said to her son, “Bring me another one.”

But he replied, “There is not a jar left.” Then the oil stopped flowing.

⁷ She went and told the man of God, and he said, “Go, sell the oil and pay your debts. You and your sons can live on what is left.”

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2%20Kings%204:1-7&version=NIV

The oil in this Old Testament account provided what the widow needed; it filled the jars to overflowing. Through the oil an insurmountable debt was paid she was not able to clear on her own. I imagine the most important thing for her was it kept her children from becoming slaves. The oil didn't run out until enough jars were filled to meet her needs.

This song reminded me of the love of Christ and how His love overflows beyond our wildest dreams. He paid a debt we never could when He exchanged His life for ours on the cross. He freed us from unfathomable bondage and freed us to be who we were created to be. However, unlike the oil for the widow... the out pouring of His love never stops...on and on and on it goes.

The second Sunday this song was played in church I understood it in an entirely different light…His love doesn't run.

Remember after 9/11 the bumper sticker with the American Flag “These Colors Don’t Run”? Well the love of Christ doesn't run. He doesn't run from us regardless of what we have done or what has been done to us.

Regardless if we are the wife and mother abandoned trying to scrape together enough money to keep shelter, food, and heat for our family. His love doesn't run.

Regardless if we are the husband (or wife) who abandoned our family and now are filled with a belly full of remorse and are thinking of ending it all. His love doesn't run.

Regardless if we are the alcoholic or drug addict who swears off our drug of choice only to fall off the wagon on a two week binge. His love doesn't run.

Regardless of the fact... __________________well go ahead and fill in the blank of whatever it is you think you did that irrevocably crossed the line and is so horrible you made God run. Because He didn't!

I Corinthians 13:7 & 8 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

I Corinthians 13:13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=I%20Corthians%2013&version=NIV

He is constant through the trial and the change.

I love this song!

May the love of Christ envelope you, protect your heart, and be the guide you need today!

Who’s your neighbor?

I saw this cartoon the other day on a Facebook page. I immediately saved it to my PC, printed it out, and hung it on my refrigerator. It is a theme I have been mulling over in my mind for almost two weeks mainly because I am lacking finesse in this area. When I am angry I am angry and I could care less about caring for anyone. Instead of sheltering someone with an umbrella when I am mad I would rather poke them in the eye with it. However, rest assured, I never do.

We are just home from a 5 day, 5 states, 2,000 miles + road trip to Yellowstone. What fun it was…until it wasn’t. With that many hours and miles in the car we were bound to get on each other’s nerves. All four of us strong willed and me the only girl. Boundaries weren’t respected which finally chipped away at my patience. Things were said that weren’t really meant. Much to my mortification there were several times I thought we were acting more like the family on Honey-Boo-Boo than we were ourselves. I sometimes wonder what makes my family act they way they do.

This ecard sums it up nicely…

I have been doing a lot of soul searching since we have been home because truthfully I am not sure what makes me sometimes act the way I do. I understand my people may not have been respecting boundaries on our vacation and they need to own their behavior. That being said I am choosing to focus on me since my behavior is the only behavior I can truly control. I am working on the difference in kindly setting boundaries in the calm and yelling trying to enforce them in the middle of the storm.

This soul searching and wondering makes the perfect segue to the second issue I have been mulling over for awhile.

I was standing out on the front porch talking to our friend and sort of neighbor Tom a month or so ago. He and his wife bought ten acres from us and they periodically stay on their property on the weekends. When they come to visit we have some great conversations.

On this particular day Tom started talking about the story of the Good Samaritan from Luke 10. In one sermon Tom heard on the Good Samaritan the speaker posed the question of ‘who is your neighbor?’ In addition to the usual answer of “everyone is your neighbor” the speaker had posed the question what if those living inside our households are our neighbor?

Here’s the parable from The Message:

Luke 10:25-37

The Message (MSG)

Defining “Neighbor”

²⁵ Just then a religion scholar stood up with a question to test Jesus. “Teacher, what do I need to do to get eternal life?”

²⁶ He answered, “What’s written in God’s Law? How do you interpret it?”

²⁷ He said, “That you love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and muscle and intelligence—and that you love your neighbor as well as you do yourself.”

²⁸ “Good answer!” said Jesus. “Do it and you’ll live.”

²⁹ Looking for a loophole, he asked, “And just how would you define ‘neighbor’?”

^30-32 Jesus answered by telling a story. “There was once a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. On the way he was attacked by robbers. They took his clothes, beat him up, and went off leaving him half-dead. Luckily, a priest was on his way down the same road, but when he saw him he angled across to the other side. Then a Levite religious man showed up; he also avoided the injured man.

^33-35 “A Samaritan traveling the road came on him. When he saw the man’s condition, his heart went out to him. He gave him first aid, disinfecting and bandaging his wounds. Then he lifted him onto his donkey, led him to an inn, and made him comfortable. In the morning he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take good care of him. If it costs any more, put it on my bill—I’ll pay you on my way back.’

³⁶ “What do you think? Which of the three became a neighbor to the man attacked by robbers?”

³⁷ “The one who treated him kindly,” the religion scholar responded.

Jesus said, “Go and do the same.”

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke+10%3A25-37&version=MSG

The point I took away from the conversation with Tom is we (I) need to be in tune with the people in our household. Unlike the man on the road to Jericho sometimes our families’ wounds are not going to obvious to the physical eye. Sometimes the wounds are going to be soul wounds caused by others or caused by ourselves. Which means sometimes we will lash out at each other in our woundedness, or in our selfishness.

For those of you who have heard me speak you know I am fascinated by word definitions. So I looked up the meaning of kindness in Greek here http://biblesuite.com/greek/5485.htm . I love this word! Here is the definition of kindness it is the same as the word grace:

“xáris ("grace") answers directly to the Hebrew (OT) term 2580 /Kaná ("grace, extension-toward"). Both refer to God freely extending Himself (His favor, grace), reaching (inclining) to people because He is disposed to bless (be near) them.”

The Samaritan’s heart went out to the man who was beaten. So as the mother/wife of this home I need to be reaching towards my family (not to smite their smart mouths) but to extend God’s kindness to them.

I am convinced this kindness includes setting healthy boundaries which govern our words and actions when we are upset with each other. This kindness sets boundaries in which we all can healthily and freely express ourselves and function.

I can’t imagine the stress that comes with being a teenager today. I also can’t imagine the stress my husband has with being the primary, and for most of our marriage, the only breadwinner in this house. Does this stress excuse unhealthy behavior? Absolutely not! But me reacting to their unkindness in an unkind way only adds fuel to the fire. As an extension of the Lord’s hand I need to practice kindness in my own household first. I need to be inclined to look past behavior and get to the real issues at hand, and if my words add to the ugliness I am not helping anyone. Especially me.

It looks like it’s time to brush the dust off the Love and Logic books and relearn some phrases to help with setting healthy boundaries!

Missing the Spectacular

The morning of the third game of the All Star tournament dawned and for some reason I woke up nervous, pacey, and antsy. Doug and Thomas weren’t with us so I was able to let Andrew sleep late.

As I let Andy sleep I paced the motel-room floor and prayed. This third game was significant for several reasons. Our team was undefeated so far in the tournament. This would be the toughest opponent we had faced to date and to keep our win/loss record we needed to come out swingin’ the bat.  Adding to the pressure…this opponent was the team that eliminated us the year before. But most of all I knew our team, including Andrew, has a hard time going the distance mentally; and baseball is mostly a mental game.

The manager and coaches talked to the boys about turning the page if an error was made. They told them one mistake does not a failure make. They taught them to take calming breaths. To step out of the batters box if they needed a second. To keep their heads up if they struck out.

As I paced and prayed my first prayer was something along the lines of ‘We have a score to settle I hope we cram the ball down their throats and win-win-win!’ I then decided it was probably more Christ-like to pray ‘Help our boys play to the best of their ability. Help them block the negativity that runs through their minds after they strike out or bobble the ball.’ 

We were up to bat first as we were the guest/away team. By the middle of the fifth inning (out of six) we were behind 2 to 4. When we took the field for the bottom of the fifth our team was visibly defeated; their shoulders were down their energy had dissipated. They had given up. Several things took the boys out of the game mentally. Earlier in the game our pitcher was hit on the right side of his chest with a line-drive. There was an error or two made by the infielders as he went down. Luckily he was fine (he was ok enough he wanted to pitch the rest of the game), but I was not sure our infielders were ever going to recover from their errors and it showed. I was seated outside the centerfield fence and their body language screamed defeat.

I silently prayed “This is not what I asked you for Lord! I don’t understand! Look at how mentally defeated these boys are!” I just shook my head. At this point this momma’s heart was no longer concerned with winning but concerned about the boys giving in to discouragement and defeat. I wanted them to keep their heads up.

The top of the sixth came around. Our bats came alive! We tied it up! 4 to 4! Bottom of the sixth came around and we held them! We were onto extra innings!

We scored four runs in the top of the seventh! Electricity was in the air! 8 to 4 was now the score! Bottom of the seventh…the other team scored two runs but that was it. We won! 8 to 6! It was spectacular!

I was so thrilled. To me winning this game against this opponent was more important than winning the championship game.

Later that afternoon as I was walking up the stairs to my motel room I reflected on the events of the day. How the kids had given up before a spectacular ending to a seemingly impossible game. In my spirit I heard these words “How many times do you give up before you see the spectacular DenaRae?” and it almost took my breath away.

I was teary as I thought about the times I get discouraged and quit. Or almost quit. I was reminded about the times I haven’t quit when I wanted to and how there is a sweetness to perseverance.

I had a pastor who quoted Galatians 6:9 almost every Sunday. In fact I used to let it go in one ear and out the other but in recent years it comes to my mind with a value that is hard to express. “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Gal. 6:9 NIV

My job situation right now is in limbo. There are several other areas of my life I feel like are not moving forward. I find myself easily discouraged. I need to learn to go the distance mentally. I need to learn to not give up but to stay the course; to set my face like stone on the One above, and not get weary in well doing. I don’t want to miss the spectacular!

       STOP!

        Not too long ago I found myself buried in my only little world. Baseball season was in full swing, I was picking up extra hours at work, and because of this the laundry pile, the house cleaning and the to-do checklist seemed conquerless.

One day amidst my frenzy to check things off I decided I had enough time to squeeze in a quick walk. Although the day was overcast there wasn’t more than a drizzle so I decided to walk outside instead of my popping in my usual walking DVD. I thought the fresh air would do me some good.

Off I went marching up the pit run on our driveway. As I turned onto the county road and started down the gravelly hill I mentally started going through my to-do list for the next millennia. The pace of my mind and my steps were in perfect rhythm; and although I am the first to admit I am no speed walker the swirling in my mind was strengthening to hurricane force.

STOP! Is what I heard from deep within my spirit and I swear it was almost audible. What else could I do? I stopped dead in my tracks. I looked up from the gravel road and what surrounded me was a silence that was almost tangible; it was peacefully deafening broken only momentarily by the chirping of Meadow Larks.

Spring on this prairie is beautiful. I drank it in. I realized I was missing it. I was becoming so obsessed with the thought of perfectly executing the expectations I had of me I was missing out on the beauty the Lord had around me. Not only the beauty of the place in which I live but the beauty in those with whom I live.

 I realized how stressed out I was becoming trying to make myself and my life something it was never going to be ~ HGTV-after the-renovation’s-complete~ perfect. It dawned on me if I didn’t stand down a little off the to-do list not only might I not be around to finish it off there wasn’t going to be anyone around to do the list for. I was on the verge of making myself sick and really not being nice to anyone around me in the process.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not abandoning my housework altogether that’d be foolish. What I am trying to do is find a balance between what I wish was reality, but isn’t realistic, and what is reality. Living two miles down a dirt road in the middle of a prairie in a house with wood floors, two boys, a dog and a husband…my house will never be HGTV perfect.

What I am trying to do is to learn to rest and relax in and amongst my life to shut out the to-do list after a certain time at night. In this age of ever on electronics, opportunities, and obligations I am trying to find a balance to give myself permission to rest, to read and relax even when there is something that needs done. Because reality is there will always be something needing done.

I think of David and Psalm 23 “He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul.” (NLT) The Message adds “True to your word, you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction.”

I have those things here, the green prairie, the seasonal babbling brook, the chance to catch my breath and rest. I just have to choose to make good use of them. I control the on/off switch to the activity in my life and I need to learn to use it to shut off the mental check list and just breathe.