Trusting, Thankfulness .....and Teacups

(Originally written in March 2008)

Lately I have been learning acceptance with joy. 

Acceptance is not the hard part- it's the 'with joy' part that I sometimes find difficult to put into practice. 
It always sounds so much easier than it really is.

But, you know- it's been getting easier.

Praise God!

I have been remembering all day an analogy that a friend of mine used a few months ago.

She reminded us, by holding up a teacup, that God has poured us a cup for every day. He poured in it just what He wants us to have that day.

Not too little, not too much.

   Not too sweet, not too bitter.

It is just exactly what He wants for us that day. My job is to drink it all. 

God wants us to not only drink the cup He has for us each day, but drink it all. It's not enough just to taste it, and then when I decide I don't want it anymore, leave it be. 

My job is to accept everything He brings my way with joy, knowing that if He chose it for me it is best.

It is not my choice what I must drink every day, it is His. 

It is my choice, however, how I choose to drink it.

Even when it's bitter, or hard, or humiliating, or frustrating, or painful.... God poured it in my cup, I get to drink it with a smile and "in everything give thanks" (1 Thes. 5:18).

Praise the Lord that He is a kind and loving Father, and He always makes sure that there is plenty of joy and blessings sprinkled throughout our days, too. Sometimes we don't see them because our eyes are on ourselves- but they are always there.

He loves us so much more than we can fathom.

So I've been thinking a lot about teacups today.

 

  With thankfulness everything is good.

I am so thankful that I can trust the Lord to know just exactly what I need when I need it.

I am so thankful that He fills my cup to overflowing with His grace to handle everything that comes my way every single day.

Giving of Thanks...

Oh, it's such a yummy day! Filled to the brim with sweet gifts, ready for us to drink down with thankfulness.

 

Little gifts are everywhere.... 

Are you looking for them today?

Let me share a few of my recent gifts with with you to whet your appetite....

...liquid love...

...fully enjoying every drop of the present...

...floating marshmallows...

...happy smile (can't you just see him about to break into a wide grin?!)...

...cozy little felt scarves tied tightly around the cocoa mug...

...Catchlights in her eyes...

...licking lips, a sign of enjoyment...

...God loves a cheerful giver!...

...when your cup runneth over... laugh about it!

Are our eyes open?

Look! See the gifts falling like leaves... blanketing our days with goodness and mercy.

Are we remembering to thank the Giver today for the quiet, life-giving gifts He bestows?

Lots of leaves + trampoline = tons of fun!

We call it... ULTIMATE LEAF JUMPING!

Can't help but laugh out loud!

Brothers. Thank you, Father, for brothers.

Squinting eyes . . . him, all buried in crunchy leaves. . .  :)

. . .  bare little toes . . .

 And yes, It is our traditional season of thankfulness but let's not confine thankfulness to a season. Let's make every day Thanksgiving, by choosing thanksliving.

I am asking Father this morning to help me keep my eyes open today for opportunities to be thankful, and for grace to take this day and drink down every drop with thankfulness.

"Lord, You have assigned my portion and my cup; 

You have made my lot secure."  

Psalm 16:5

The Roses

Originally written in April 2008, this story allegorically depicts my heart's desire to see each one of brothers and sisters in Christ choosing to live in patience and purity as we wait for Father to bring us our soul-mates. He does make all things beautiful in His time... but will we choose to patiently wait as He does the beautifying???

 

There was once a father who had three sons.

To each of his sons the father gave a small rosebush which he helped them plant by their windows.

"Be patient," the father told his children "pray that your plant grows strong, care for them tenderly; and one day you will be rewarded for your waiting."

The children each purposed in their hearts to watch and wait, excited at the prospect of a reward.

The seasons passed and the plants grew.

Springtime finally came 'round and the the boys watched their rosebushes in eager expectation.

One morning the youngest of the three boys threw open his window and laid eyes on a tiny rosebud peeking out from under the leaves of his rosebush. Exclaiming in delight, the child reached down and plucked off the bud. He held it up triumphantly in his hands and cried, "Look! Oh, come and see! I waited patiently and now I have my reward! I have a rosebud now!"

The other two boys came running to see the treasure that their brother held. Seeing the new bud, they shook their heads. "Ah," said the second child "you were not patient enough. Had you waited longer you would've had an even greater treasure than you have now." 

The eldest son nodded in agreement. "You should have let it grow and mature." he said sadly "Now all you will ever see of it's beauty is what you see now."

The two older brothers left the youngest son feeling quite disappointed that he had acted in such haste only a short while before. Indeed, he had received his reward, but he would never see the full beauty or enjoy the fragrance that the rose was meant to have.

He would have to be satisfied with the tiny and incomplete rosebud.

Several days passed. 

One morning, bright and early, the second child hurried outside to see if his rosebush had changed overnight. Much to his surprise and delight, he saw a rosebud, reaching up toward the sunlight. "I will not be like my brother," the child decided quickly "I will keep waiting patiently and see my rosebud grow."

He skipped away to play.

A few hours later he returned to gaze at his rosebud. His smile faded when he saw that there was still no visible change. Looking up to heaven, he asked God to make his rose grow big and strong. The child asked God for the rose to grow quickly because he was eager to pick it and have it as his own. When he finished his prayer the child felt happy once again, so he left his rosebud and went inside the house. 

After hardly an hour had passed, the child returned to his rosebush again, expecting to find there a fully-formed rose waiting for him. 

Letting out a little cry, he knelt down beside his bush and observed the rose from every angle.

No change.

Did he not ask God to make it grow, and grow quickly?

Suddenly he had an idea. Maybe his rose needed a little help from him. Carefully, he reached out and touched the rosebud's soft petals. Taking hold of the petals between his fingers, the child began pulling them apart, trying to unfold the rose with his own hands.

But, alas! A rose can only be unfolded by the hands of God.

It didn't take long for the poor child to realize that he had completely ruined his rosebud.

Letting the petals fall to the ground, he let out a sob. Never would he get a chance to even enjoy his rose.

He had done worse than the first child; now he had nothing at all.

Meanwhile, the eldest son watched his rosebush carefully. On it, too, had appeared a rosebud. Every day the child prayed that his rosebush would grow strong and healthy in order to nourish his one and only little rose. He prayed for sunshine, he prayed for rain. When the storms came during the night, the child would awake and go to his window. As he watched the raindrops fall heavily on his rosebush, the child asked God that his rose would not be damaged but rather grow stronger and healthier as the result of the storms. 

Days turned into weeks, and the young but wise child continued to wait patiently. 

His rose began to unfold, slowly- yes- but surely. 

Every day the child thanked God for his rose and for the growth he could see in it. He continued to pray that it would grow until it reached maturity. 

He prayed and he waited, but it was not always easy. There were times when he wanted so badly take it away from its bush.

"How can it get any better than it already is?" the other children would ask, trying to persuade him to pick the growing rosebud.

But the child stood firm. He learned to be patient, and in time he was rewarded.

One morning in mid-Summer the eldest child opened his window and was greeted by a beautiful fragrance. He looked down to see that his rose was no longer a bud. It had finished unfolding its petals during the night and it stood before him now fully opened; radiant; waiting now only to be picked by the child.

The child knew it was now time.

Waiting was over. This was his reward.

He reached down and pulled his rose gently from the bush- his very own rose.

It seemed to be smiling as he held it in his hands.

Throwing his head back, the child laughed.

It was worth it to wait.

The day He brought her right across my path

I tend to get wrapped up and consumed with the little things in this life of mine and forget how close I live to eternity.

I am so thankful for Father's reminders.

Because it really is just a breath away. 

Or, as David says, "... there is only a step between me and death."

Eternity.

I know they say that all the time, but do we really believe it?

Like... really?

I pulled out of the driveway on a recent Friday afternoon, all wrapped up in my self and consumed with some things that really didn't matter in the light of eternity.

My attitude? It stunk.

I was flustered because my hair was greasy and I didn't have time to wash it before I left. I was letting my to-do list pressure me, and worried about the things I left undone in my hurry to get into town. 

All very petty things. Very. Very. Petty.

But the Holy Spirit is so faithful to help us in our weakness... and He began working on me about my heart. As I drove I realized I was wrong and asked for His forgiveness.

I came up over the hill, passed highway W on the left, and after rounding the bend I saw a red truck coming towards me in the opposite lane. Suddenly the driver swerved across the double yellow lines. For a split-second I watched and expected the truck to swerve back into its own lane (like they always do)... but it didn't. It swerved more. 

I jerked the wheel to the right just as the truck was on me -my right tires in the grass off the road-

and heard a crash.

I gasped loud, but my hands stayed firmly on the steering wheel and my car moved smoothly right back into my lane. (That, I'm convinced, was God driving because I'm certain I would have lost control at that point). Little bits of glass had showered my dashboard and my shirt.
I felt dust in my eye.

I looked out my open window to see my rear-view mirror slammed into the side of the car a few inches from me- the mirror itself was lying (a bit shattered) on the floor in front of the passenger seat.

I pulled in the next driveway to survey the damage, and found that the mirror was the only thing hit. I was somewhat baffled (And yes, I guess I should admit; I was a little disappointed. I mean, really? That's IT?? I was expecting to see more than that! Sorry people, but I do love adventure...).

A minute later the red truck pulled in behind me. The driver had turned around and come back to see if I was okay. She apologized over and over, explaining that her little dog had got in between her feet and the pedals so she had reached down while driving to pull it out of the way. That's when she swerved.

I saw a crack in her headlight.

Her HEADLiGHT?!

Her headlight had collided with my little mirror?! You guys, seriously. This mirror doesn't stick out into the road that far. It's a tiny mirror!

There wasn't even the slightest scratch (nothing, that is, that hadn't already been there) anywhere else down the side of either vehicle. Her headlight and my mirror were the only two things that made contact.

Her hair was pink, she smelled of smoke. Within the first five minutes I learn that her husband left her recently for someone else and her dog had been hit by a car that very afternoon.

Her life reflected my mirror.

A bit shattered.

I placed my hand on her arm while she still sat in the driver's seat and I prayed with her. 

Jesus? Will you reach down and capture this shattered soul...?

Tears came to her eyes.

For the next half-hour as we waited for the officer to show up, she shared her life with me.

She has cancer. She was in a wreck twenty-two years ago that sent her best friend into eternity. Her dad just passed away last year. Into eternity....

Eternity.

Oh, I just kept thinking about eternity.

After the sun had sunk lower on the horizon...

After a full report had been written up for insurance purposes...

After the she honked and waved and pulled back between the lines...

After the officer and his lights faded away...

After I was back on my way into town again...

I just couldn't shake the thought.

I guess when someone's headlight passes a few inches from your face at break-neck speed you can't help but wonder about eternity- even for a bit.

I know I am ready for eternity. His life is in me and it's eternal. 

But is she ready for eternity?

Could that be why Father brought her -quite literally- across my path?

Has she found the Healer for her shattered heart? Has she discovered that the way to live is to die?

{Will you pray with me for her?}

 

"All of us must die eventually.
Our lives are like water
spilled out on the ground,
which cannot be gathered up again.
But God does not just sweep life away;
instead, he devises ways to bring us back
when we have been separated from him."
2 Samuel 14:14

We have such a merciful Father! He has made a way to bring us back. He came to heal the brokenhearted and bind up their wounds. But how can they hear about Him unless someone tells them?

I am absolutely convinced now that Father brought her into my life that day for that very reason. So that I could share with her the hope I have in me.

As I drove through the hills and watched the sun set once again over this yet-revolving earth, I thought about the things that had been consuming my thoughts before I saw that red truck cross the yellow lines. Was any of it really worth being consumed with? 

In the light of eternity, do any of these little things really matter??

Last week a dear friend texted me and asked me to pray for her aunt who just got a bad report about the cancer she is battling.

She tells me her aunt lives each day "as if it was her last"...

And I wonder if that is not what we should all be doing.

"Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. 

What is your life? 

You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes." 

James 4:14

Tomorrow is not guaranteed. Life as I know it now is not guaranteed. 

Am I living each day unto the glory of God?

Am I living each moment filled with thankfulness to a good Father for good gifts?

Am I loving each person in my life unconditionally- as if today is our one last together?

Are the things I'm doing, saying, being, and wanting really worth doing, saying, being, wanting?

Am I walking worthy of the calling with which I was called?

Am I choosing to die daily so that Jesus can live beautifully and powerfully within me?

Am I shining like a star in the sky in this warped and crooked generation- holding out His hope and His truth to those whose paths cross my own?

Am I living in the light of eternity?

Are you?

Taking it personally

Traveling out west a few weeks ago, we stopped off in Anadarko to pick up my brother and for a quick night's rest at the ranch. After having carted our bags and pillows upstairs to the guest bedroom and thanking our hosts for their graciousness, I slipped down the dark hallway and into the bathroom to clean up and brush my teeth before bed.
I noticed some neon-colored index cards taped to the bathroom mirror containing inspiring quotes.

I smiled.

Half-consciously as I brushed my teeth I wondered which child might have written the quotes ...and why.
Who were they meant to encourage? Whose mind were they meant to refresh? I pictured a young follower of Jesus, passionately attempting to renew her mind daily. Taping truth before her eyes.

But I didn't think much more about the words,

(assuming them for someone else . . . simple as they were)

until, wash rag in hand, they quite suddenly slapped me in the face . . . and I took it personally.

"God has a plan. Trust Him!"

Who's to say this wasn't written for me???

Me, Lord? But I already know that.

That simple little phrase is there to remind someone else, right?

God, that's probably there for someone who has a hard time remembering the simple fact that You have a plan. Someone who is still learning to trust.

Not me. I already . . . . . . . .

Or do I?
Do I really already know that?

Is that what I live. . . in the real and hard and crazy times?
Or does it just agree with my intellect . . . when life feels good and I feel like I'm making great headway?

Does my everyday life say "God has a plan. Trust Him!" . . . or are these words confined only to my lips and my head?

Realizing that humility chooses to learn every chance it gets and never boasts too quickly of mastery, I decided that maybe . . .

. . . maybe . . .

Maybe this quote on the little orange card really was for me. To take with me in my heart as I travel this road of life, reminding me that I'm never too educated to simply trust . . .   and I should never be so proud that I assume little reminders are meant for someone else.

How often do I miss opportunities to learn or be more conformed into the image of Jesus simply because I assume it's for someone else?

The scripture on the wall . . .
The quote on the church sign . . .
The spiritual analogy in the situation that just happened . . .
The sermon I just heard . . .
The written reminder . . .

Could it be pride in me that thinks these are there for someone else?
I am willing to admit that.
Could it be that I need to humble myself and choose to take more things personally?
I am willing to do that.

I want to be willing and open to learning all that Father wants me to learn.
I want to quit pointing fingers and start taking things personally.

Having a Messy Morning?

"In everything give thanks..." includes messy mornings when the waffle irons (both) just won't pull thru and batter leaks all over the counter. . . 

And the batter that does stay in the irons STiCKS in the irons and we end up with a pile of flop. . . 

. . . So we pull out the griddle to try for pancakes instead, but then those stick bad and squish into flop also.

Ah, yes; these kinds of mornings are definitely included.

And when we lose one of the eight organic eggs (preciousness around here) down the drain due to a miscalculation on behalf of a beginner chef. . .

and orange juice splashes onto the countertop and dribbles down the cabinets. . .

and little Lou has a cough that won't go away. . .

and everyone has to be extra quiet so Mom can get a little more rest, because she was up half the night. . .

and this was supposed to be a quick and easy deal (that's why we made the batter the night before). . .

. . . this is still the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning us. 

This morning.

"With thankfulness everything is good."


A friend used to repeat those words to me often, and they've been bouncing off the walls of my mind all morning. I believed it then when I first heard it- but only as words. Only recently have I been able to see how true these words really are.

Everything.

Everything becomes good and sweet when we pour thankfulness over it;

100% Pure Thankfulness to a good Father for good gifts.

When we change our perspective and realize that this- whatever we are facing- is the will of God for us right now, and He has a good purpose in it for us. When in everything we give thanks, what was messy (in our perspective) changes into something good.

Little troopers that they are, the kids took the flop onto their plates this messy morning, poured sweet syrup over it, and ate it all up eagerly. They trusted me to feed them something edible this morning, and when they tasted it they found out that it was good. In the same way, when I trust God to give me no more than I can handle and no less than I need -and thank Him for it- I find out that what He gives me is good.

"I don't think we should call it flop," Willie said, bringing his syrupy plate back for a refill. "It's really good! Thanks!"

He's right, I thought. It's good. And though it looked like a messy flop from far away, when he tasted it with thankfulness he found it to be good. I could learn something valuable from that thought right there. 

Taste and see that the Lord is good;
blessed is the man that trusts in Him!

God gives me countless opportunities every day to take the things He gives me, pour thankfulness over it and eat it with joy. Trusting Him to provide for me, knowing and acknowledging that He is a good Father... always good.

 

{Always good!} 

Having a messy morning? You might try changing your perspective.... and maybe pouring a big helping of thankfulness over your flop, and looking for His goodness in the mess.

('Cause trust Him- it's there.)

Bloom

I read the words that wrap around that mug all the time.
I like that mug. I use it often.

But every so often I read them and actually think about their meaning again.

 (Seems I forget some things way to easily)

"Bloom where you're planted"

Yes, that message was definitely meant for me. I needed to be reminded of my purpose today.

Bloom.

Do you know what the words "bloom" means? It means simply "to produce flowers".

Flowers? Those are the seed-bearing parts of the plants (the parts that die to produce more plants and more flowers), which are normally surrounded by brightly-colored corolla (or what we call petals), and more often than not emits a beautiful fragrance. 

You know. . . flowers?
      The things you brighten rooms with?

BLOOM. {Wow... what a thought!}

I am not here just to grow..... to take in nutrients from my surroundings, to focus diligently on just staying alive throughout the heat, the wind, the storms... and in the midst of all the trampling little feet that traipse through my serene flower bed.

I am here to bloom. Produce flowers. 

Bear fruit... learn to give of myself and die so that even more fruit can grow.

To let Him brighten the room with the joy of His presence written on my face.

To fill the house with the sweet fragrance of humility and service.

That's what I'm here for. To bloom. And to bloom right here- in my home, in this season of life, in my position in the body of Christ- right here where He planted me.

So, I've been thinking about it. Blooming.

And watching how triumphantly those blossoms are still blooming where the boys planted them that very same coffee-mug-morning in the front beds..... right through all this extra-hot summer heat.

Even when we take no notice, forget to water them, brush past them a bit too roughly. 

They're blooming.

Gloriously.

Right where they were planted. Pointing... smiling... growing... upward every moment.

Jesus, can I be like that? Can I bloom gloriously- triumphantly- humbly like that?

Will you continue to whisper reminders to me throughout my days of the grace You are pouring into me so that I can bloom?

I want to bloom where I'm planted, Jesus-
I want to bloom.