A Provision Story

She’d moved the thing for years, and when it finally teetered to place on its graceful clawed feet she vowed never again. Then she cried. It was the last thing of her Mom’s to move over and the most stressful.

Like an unwelcome but distinguished guest it stood innocently in one corner while the contemporary one stood on the other side as if they were fighting for space; a face off in the dining room. We mourned the loss of our empty wall. It went with nothing else in the room.

Because her parents had moved everywhere she did, the china cabinet came too. It was her Mom’s most prized possession. For years Elaine has had the emotional and physical stress of moving it, and with each move it had become more of a millstone around her neck. She had horrific visions of the thing crashing to the ground like a redwood, the irreplaceable glass in shards on the ground.

After her Mom went into assisted living she thought surely someone in the family would want it. No one did. It went on eBay. One woman actually laughed in her face when she told her the price. And believe me, the price was very fair considering what it was.

This past Monday, we decided to try our hand at antique dealing. We were committed to an all day mission; to finding it, in addition to around 500 assorted glass pieces a home.

The first guy was friendly and talkative, but not very interested in anything else.

When we walked in the second place, there were three women at the counter and all three heads swiveled in our direction. One of them looked at us stony-faced from behind her computer the whole time we were there. The only time she actually cracked a smile and chortled was when Elaine said, “I have been stuck with all this crap all these years now, 25 boxes worth.”

The second woman, the spokeswoman of the group, almost threw up the sign of the cross with her fingers at the mention of glassware. “We only do furniture.” She must have said it 4 times. It was obvious she didn’t know an Occupied Japan Toby from a Matchbox car. Don’t worry if you don’t either.

Ms. “Only do furniture” wasn’t interested in the China Cabinet.

Our next stop took us 15 miles away to downtown. We refused to be discouraged.

We entered through the alley, starting to feel a little like beat-down used car salesmen, but still holding out hope. A man looking like a cross between Garrison Keillor and Norman Bates sat hunched over and peering intently into his computer screen, very loudly crunching on Sun Chips.

I couldn’t even catch her eye. I know my friend, and one of her pet peeves is people eating loud foods in her ear and clacking loudly on the keyboard and this guy was doing both. I wondered how long she would last. It was a test.

We thought maybe he would stop eating as he bent closer to look at the pictures she held out via her phone, but as he paused with one chip poised in the air, he leaned even closer and took the whole thing in his mouth and crunched even louder. I almost laughed out loud.

I saw his eyes flicker with interest as he got up from the chair, wiping Sun Chip dust on his slightly smudgy jeans as they talked. “Well,” he said, “will you be home tonight? I would like to see what you have, and my friend might be interested in the cabinet.”

He came around 5:15 and looked at everything she had for sale, including things which were not. He seemed to be making himself at home but it was educational, he seemed to know his stuff. He then called his buddy and gave him directions to our house.

His buddy pulled up later in a 2012 Super Sport black corvette. After inspection, he said he did in fact, want the China cabinet. He said he had 6 others at home by the same maker. He took a few other things as well, including a gun that had belonged to her Dad. “The safety is faulty,” she told him, but he didn’t seem to mind as he pointed it in my general direction. Elaine told me it might be good if I stepped to the side. I agreed.

He couldn’t hear a thing, and his voice boomed throughout the house. The cats hid under the beds. He regaled us with stories, this good old boy who did two tours in Vietnam and came home with a purple heart, and who just happened to collect antiques. Who would have thought?

The next day he and his buddy backed up a trailer while I herded cats.

He came in laughing and booming out instructions to his friend, who repeated everything he said under his breath in a very raspy voice sounding much like Red Green, that goofy Canadian guy who fixes everything with duct tape. It was like a comedy routine.

I watched from the window with a blow-by-blow description for Elaine who was pacing nervously from room to room. I gasped as they tipped it end over end and slid it into the trailer. And we both let out a breath when we watched the tail lights receding down the street.

It wasn’t just the end of a piece of furniture it was another step closer to freedom for her. One step closer toward her own life again.

Later that night we drank a toast in celebration, but not before we said a prayer of thanks for a God who provides in some very creative and humorous ways. “When I heard that guy crunching those chips,” she said, “It was like God was telling me that He was gonna do this for me, but that I was going to have to jump through a couple of hoops first.”

Before he left our new friend left his business and cell number. When Elaine showed him some projects she has done, he said: “If you need anything for any project, just call me. I have a whole workshop at your disposal.”

We smiled when we remembered how we prayed, asking God for success, for a sale. And I am always amazed at who and how He comes through. A chip crunching antique dealer and a purple hearted vet who said yes to his wife’s request for a house filled with antiques.

God is so good.

A life built around Him

This was stuck on the bathroom mirror. It was on a card I sent them years ago, I guess my Mom couldn’t part with it……

This is in the corner by the microwave, right by a drawing I made (also years ago). This prayer just about spells out their life. They go from dawn to dusk watching my special needs niece. They are fatigued in body and soul most every day, but their house is still a place of peace and refuge for many of their friends and family and there is always a fresh pot of coffee for whoever drops by.

A reminder on the porch of who they serve……..and what He did for us all.

My Mom’s bookshelf. My Dad has several and spilled to overflowing in several places in their house, but hers is tidy and organized.

I think it is very important to have reminders in your home. I have several pieces of art and knicknacks in my own home, but the ones that give special comfort are the ones that remind me of who He is and that He is near, always.

And the last one, written in my Dad’s own hand……posted on the kitchen cabinet.

It’s always the lone bird that gets me

This message was tacked on the cupboard in my parents’ kitchen, in my Dad’s writing. He is having a hard time right now. Macular degeneration is making reading difficult. He has always found solace in the written page, in books. It’s always been a big topic of our discussions. It’s hard trying to support your family from far away. I walk around with a certain amount of guilt on any given day. I don’t know anymore how it would be to live without it. I guess you can get used to anything, just like my Dad says you can get used to bad eyesight and hearing loss.

Vacation may be over, but I still hear the crashing of the waves, and the sound of those silly seals barking in the sun on that dock. I still feel the cool of the grass my niece insisted I lay in. I hesitated, knowing Tyler poops there, but as children will she insisted that I share the joy of the moment. And I did.

I had forgotten how the grass speaks if you listen. And it’s a language only children and God can hear and some adults who have not let go of the wonder.

I remembered how she clung to my hand during Sesame Street live, and how small my Mom felt when I hugged her, not wanting to let her go, and going to breakfast with her and sharing a plate. And I smiled when I remembered my Dad and I cleaning the fish tank, spilling water and trying to scoop fish that didn’t want to be caught. And feeding my brother ice in the emergency room.

I wonder at the strange twists and turns of life, how all of a sudden the big brother can be the weak one you be the strong one.

It’s hard to fight for your family from a distance. Hard to help when miles stretch out long, between us but I try.

But I thank God that His arms are long and they reach far and wide.

So many times it’s not the grand chorus that does me in, but the solo. The lone bird that sings, that one note ringing out when all else is silent. The one that insists that there is always hope because with God there always is. Everyone has stuff. But the key is knowing God has you and He won’t let you go.

God astounds me, because He knows when I need to know that He still has me.

He speaks in those quiet moments when we kneel in between life and everything else, when the bell tolls the hours that you may not even hear, but you can feel the weight of just the same. When we are feeling weak and crumpled and useless. And helpless.

He will never turn away from humility. “But He gives a greater grace. Therefore it says, “GOD IS OPPOSED TO THE PROUD, BUT GIVES GRACE TO THE HUMBLE.” James 4:6

For just a moment, I wanted to touch the last remaining embers of the time treasured. I wanted to hear the laughter, feel the peace, thank Him for the joy we felt, and how He was there with us all along.

As I sank to my knees, knowing there was not one thing I could do to hold time back, I touched Heaven instead.

It’s good to be home, and it will be good to go back next time. Until then, God keeps me. Keeps us all.

When the unexpected happens

It was supposed to be routine, but what happened wasn’t. My brother went in for a biopsy. The Doctor said some bleeding after the test was normal, not a major concern. We waited for news of how it went, and then I got the text. To come over alone. When I got there he was sitting on the edge of the bed looking for the Doctor’s number. Every number we called led to the medical group but not the office. I even googled it. Still same wrong number.

He said, in between trips to the bathroom….”I think I need to go back in.”

And because he lives close, I said I would run into town and go to the office myself and let them know he was coming back in. I ran home to pick up my Dad and he was already on alert, about to leave for my brother’s house himself. We drove crazy back to the office, where the confused girl at the desk said she would give the Doctor a head’s up that he was coming.

By the time we got back to my brother’s house, he could barely walk. There was no time for an ambulance. He stood up and almost passed out in the driveway. As we frantically adjusted the seats for him to fit in back, he kept calling out for us to hurry and I heard the panic in his voice. I stayed in back with him and Dad drove the short distance. 5 minutes felt like 30. I prayed we had time.

And that we wouldn’t get in an accident on the way.

The Doctor took one look at my brother’s ashen color and said, “I will meet you in the ER.” It was literally on the next street over. By the time we got there we were all scared and shaky, running on adrenaline. The attendant said, “Chair or gurney?”

And when he came around the back of the car with that chair that looked way too flimsy, I knew it wasn’t going to work. He was not a very big guy and my brother is. As we headed toward the door, me on one side and he on the other, he started to throw up, then he passed out cold.

It was then that everything started to get chaotic. It all felt surreal. I experienced how things can move fast but agonizingly slow at the same time. Nurses were giving orders right and left but no one was moving fast enough for us. I was still trying to hold him on the chair and so was the guy on the other side. I learned something that day though that I had always wondered about myself.

When it comes to someone I care about, I can do what I need to do.

I heard my own voice over and over, “We need help here, we need help here.” I heard one of the nurses say, “We’re losing him.”

I thought, “This is how it happens, just how fast.”

I fished his medical cards out with shaky hands and my legs felt wobbly. Later, as we all sat in the waiting room, my Dad said it.

“Where was my prayer? I prayed for a good outcome with no complications.” He said.

I said, “God isn’t a Genie, sometimes He answers a different way, but He always answers.” Then I thought of parents who pray for sick kids who don’t make it, and then I felt sanctimonious for saying it. “Sometimes, there just are no answers we can make sense of right now.”

I thought of how that morning it had all started so good. I thought of Lauryn as she came in smiling with the cake she made, and then all of a sudden none of us were there except my poor Mom and she was trying to pretend that everything was okay, trying not to scare her. She said later that it was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. And special needs kids have a kind of radar. They know when things are not right.

I thought of Lauryn losing her Daddy and how terrible it would be. She would not understand.

As soon as she could, her Mom came from her appointment and took over. She calmed her and us by sending photos from Funderland, one of her favorite places. But it was tinged with the unease of events that were still rolling by, better but still unsettled.

Family is the glue, that is what I kept thinking that whole day. And really, all of us are held together by our larger family, Gods.

Bind us together Lord, bind us together and bind us in Love. It’s what matters most when everything is going wrong.

My brother is okay, but awaiting results from the biopsy which is scary.

Getting away……and how art can move us beyond ourselves.

Last year around this time the calendar looked like this. And those were just the highlights. There was also the new job driving a school bus, and her Dad. Now her Dad is gone and her Mom is doing well in an assisted living community where half the time she thinks she is there to help out. Which probably makes her feel better about being there which is fine. And school is out for the summer.

As she looked at that calendar, she said, “No wonder I felt stressed.” I said, “It’s amazing you didn’t have a nervous breakdown.” She said, “I think maybe I did.”

It’s hard to know what to do when you have had a million things to do all at once and all of a sudden you don’t.

On the way to work this morning, I was surprised by the emotion that surged when the first notes of Ludwig van Beethoven’s – Fur Elise were played. If you don’t know it by the title, don’t worry neither did I. But when I heard the familiar tune I wasn’t prepared for the tears that swam in my eyes as I listened.

It reminded me of the time we went to the art exhibit and I paused in front of El Greco’s St. Peter in Tears, shell-shocked with emotion. I wasn’t prepared for the depth of sorrow I saw depicted in those eyes. From then on, I totally understood that seeing a Masterpiece in person is a form of worship not to the person who painted it, but to God himself for giving a gift of that magnitude.

What is it about true art, true beauty, that brings out emotions you didn’t even know were there? It makes us think of something beyond ourselves, something bigger which is truly and wholly good.

When emotions are held at bay for so long, sometimes you forget how to let them out but they come out anyway.

In five days we will load up the motor home and drive to California, unencumbered by anything. It’s been a long time.

In five days, I will get to see my Mom and hug her and make her feel like for a few days everything will be okay. I will clean up messes for her since no one ever does that, and I will cook and clean a bit for her, and it will make me feel good to do it.

I will hug my Dad and pray for his eyes, and hug him too. And hopefully we will walk the nature trail together.

And I will eat smushed up rainbow cake that Lauryn will more than likely want me to see first thing. I will savor every bite. I will savor every minute with her, swimming, playing, and having a tea party with her babies. I will hug my brother and we will laugh together and hopefully we will all forget our collective stress for a while and just enjoy being together.

And I will, when I get there, dip my feet in the ocean no matter how cold it is and feel sand under my toes and feel ocean waves wash over my soul again. And eat lots of seafood. I will greet all these things as one greets a very old familiar friend. Elaine and I will walk on the beach and savor a victory knowing that because in Him, we have it. In Him, all things are held together.

I will try my best to put my natural state of anxiety behind me this week and look forward to the journey. Because that’s half the fun.

When “picking up your cross” consists of just getting up again.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the morning. I would have given anything if I could have stayed there all day. The cats, almost sensing this, both came up and settled close. One on my pillow, one tucked into my side, chin resting on my arm. I heard stereo purrs. I groaned, got up and pushed the coffee button and burrowed back under the covers until it was ready.

Tears flowed freely again as I poured a cup. I turned the party lights on because I believe that despite how I feel, there is always something to celebrate. Then I cried about that.

I know what this is. It’s a returning occurance and that comforted me only a little as I furiously punched the down arrow that regulated the air conditioner. It was only 77 in the house. It wasn’t hot it was me. It’s too painful to actually write the whole word down so I will do a partial word, like the Hebrews do when they write G-d. Hereafter it will be referred to as M-n-pa-se. Or one I like better, a Harry Potterish term, “She who must not be named.” You see, I am much too young for this.

I sat in the soft glow of those lights and for some reason I thought of Jesus words when He grabbed Peter up, sputtering and clinging out of the water that he had only moments before been walking on. “Why did you doubt?” I feel like he must have said it softly, sadly. Not accusatory.

It all started going downhill yesterday when I couldn’t remember the code to the RV gate. My brain locked up. I didn’t say anything because I wanted to remember it on my own. It never came.

Then last night I froze at the keyboard trying to order a print from Costco. Then I started crying because of the picture of Sydney……and he……is…..getting……old and he will die and I don’t know how I will deal with that sweet cat dying. I scared Elaine.

And this morning I sat there in the glow of the lights descrambling my brain……what was that code? I ran through the numbers, 2030, 20103, 23103……Then thankfully, finally the right number dropped into the empty space. Thank you God, maybe I am not going insane after all.

I read the study that was just done, that they have proven that M-n-pa-se brain fog is real. I could have told them that.

And right then I realized I was dealing with pure and simple fear. If I can’t remember things, how can I be depended on? And if I can’t be depended on, what value am I? Then I thought of the other verse, that one that never fails to comfort me.

‘Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’

Sometimes, picking up your cross consists of getting up and doing it all over again no matter how you feel.

I really don’t want to be insane. And giving up is not an option. When people are counting on you, the way you honor them is by getting up again; by placing your hope in the One who has brought you through time after time. And while most of us could think of plenty of reasons why going back to bed seems like the best option, most of the time we don’t.

As the door slides open and I scan my badge going in to work the thought comes: “If they knew the state of my mind right now they would never trust me to do this job.”

But I believe if God gives you a task, He will give you what you need to complete it. And this morning I am thankful despite how I feel, because I have a support system and some have nobody. And when I stop to think about it? All this speculation and rumination about how I feel is a luxury in itself.

Some people just want enough food and water, a chance for their children to live another day. Maybe helping some of them is the best way we can help ourselves.

A couple ways you can help:

Help One Now

World Vision

It all comes down to Jesus

It all comes down to Jesus.

When we got home from visiting Elaine’s Mom yesterday, I called my own Mom. It was her voice I was hearing when I thought, “It all comes down to Jesus.”

It’s not easy to go there. To visit the places where they check in but they don’t check out, except through death. It’s easy to put thoughts of mortality on the back burner when you are feeling good, doing something you love to do but as soon as you walk through those doors, it all comes front and center.

I call care homes the great equalizers. We may not all end up there, but we are all heading that direction. Justin Bieber will be there someday and so will Tom Cruise. Hard to imagine, unless you see it often. When you see people whose minds have slipped away you think, “There but for the grace of God go any of us.”

Yesterday, the whole time we were there, one lady carried her bedding from door to door, trying to get out, to go home. We were there for an hour and she never stopped. And at night, the staff said, it gets even worse.

One lady is not that old at all, but she suffered a stroke, and her words come out all scattered, like if you took a complete sentence and scrambled up the words that’s how it would come out. Like, “You…..know…..she…..think……my…..son…..train…..second…..year. She always looks stylish and classy and she always smiles when she sees us and points to Elaine’s Mom. I wonder what she would tell us if she could only string those words together?

Another lady has Alzheimer’s and yet they say when she sits down at the organ she can play any hymn you can name. Still another asks me how many kids I have every time I go in there. I think maybe I will give her a different answer every time, or maybe just tell her I have ten.

Whenever I leave there, it seems the birds sound sweeter, the sky seems bluer, life becomes something I want to inhale deeply. When it all comes down to it, we will sell everything we have now and all we will have left will be Jesus. Or not.

I always remember my sister-in-law, who found out how real Jesus was before she passed away at 43 of ovarian cancer. At the end, one of the songs she wanted at her service was, “Just Give Me Jesus.” She learned that as long as she had Him, she had everything.

If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake and for the sake of the Good News, you will save it. And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul?Is anything worth more than your soul?

No Lord, not one, single solitary thing.

Good news for the common man

Then Amaziah the priest of Bethel sent a message to Jeroboam king of Israel: “Amos is raising a conspiracy against you in the very heart of Israel. The land cannot bear all his words. For this is what Amos is saying:

“‘Jeroboam will die by the sword,
and Israel will surely go into exile,
away from their native land.’”

Then Amaziah said to Amos, “Get out, you seer! Go back to the land of Judah. Earn your bread there and do your prophesying there. Don’t prophesy anymore at Bethel, because this is the king’s sanctuary and the temple of the kingdom.”

Amos answered Amaziah, “I was neither a prophet nor the son of a prophet, but I was a shepherd, and I also took care of sycamore-fig trees. But the Lord took me from tending the flock and said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’

Israel basically told Amos to get outta dodge. To go back where he came from and continue herding sheep and growing fig trees. They were bloated on their power, in love with their wealth and comforts, and they were talking advantage of the poor and needy. That never sits very well with God.

At first Amos held the spotlight on Israel’s neighbors and that was all good with them. But when Amos started listing all their sins on the town marquee it got ugly. They wanted him out of there.

I like the fact that God roots for the underdogs of the world. It is easy to convince myself that I am one. But the lessons of the Israelites can be equally applied to me. And it stings. In reading these Chapters I need to ask myself the hard questions.

Am I getting complacent? Am I quick to point fingers of blame at someone else, when I need to be looking inwardly at myself? Am I getting lazy? Am I putting myself above others when I don’t reach out because it’s too uncomfortable?

Amos reminds me that though God loves the underdog, the common working class, he also loves the people drunk on their own self-importance who don’t think they need him at all. He loves them enough to warn them.

I remember all the times in my life when he gave me second and third chances. I am bowled over by his compassion, by his mercy that never seems to run dry.

There are so many things in this life that scream for justice, and it seems to be getting worse. It’s so easy for me to jump up and down and scream, “Yeah God, get them, get them!”

Get those people who are doing unspeakable things to children.

Get the those politicians in Washington who couldn’t care less about us hard-working folks, who have their pensions and their pockets stuffed with bribes.

Get the addicted mother who has 6 kids she doesn’t even care about running wild raising themselves, while she sits on the couch sucking on cigarettes as well as the system. (I know this to be true)

But God never told me to be concerned with them, but with my own heart.

I am thinking of a scene, that breakfast meeting on the beach where Jesus met the disciples after his resurrection. Peter asked him a question concerning John. I love what Jesus says, and I can imagine him saying it with a measure of remonstration in his voice and love radiating out of his eyes at the same time.

Jesus answered, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.”

Yes, Lord. I get it. Point taken.

How we can…..praise through the storms.

I was sure by now
God You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away
Stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say “Amen”, and it’s still raining

As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away

Casting Crowns, Praise you in this Storm

I wasn’t going to pray this morning, but as the awful images rolled across my screen of the terrible storm that ripped through the Midwest yesterday I thought, “How can I not?” I thought of the different kinds of storms that are hitting all around me like lightning strikes. And they just keep hitting. How would it feel to have everything you own ripped away? I can’t even imagine it. As I look at on my patio today there are all kinds of boxes from a storage unit just cleared out. All stuff. But all stuff that can be replaced.

I think of the other kinds of storms, the tornadoes and floods of life that have nothing whatever to do with the weather.

How will Bill go on without Nancy? A man in our park recently died. His wife Nancy is left behind. Every day she and Bill would ride around together on their bikes. We all nicknamed them “The Sanford’s” because they would ride around on garbage day and look at what everyone set out to see if there was anything they might take home. Nancy will have to ride alone now, and my heart hurts for her.

And my Dad is losing his eyes. Macular degeneration and cataracts are making it hard for him to do the things he has to do and the things he loves to do. He has to have shots in his eyes. Why should he have to go through that? I don’t think it’s fair. My own eyes squeeze tears back when I think of him not being able to read. We have always discussed books together. I wonder why God didn’t heal his eyes like I asked.

A dear friend just lost her husband at 58.

The substance abuse problem that lays like a big fat sleeping dragon that I wish I could slay for someone else.

Too many storms to count here, and it doesn’t seem they will be leaving anytime soon. In light of all this, how in the world could I think I could pass on prayer?

As I sit down to write all this, I can say in my heart of hearts, that I can still praise God in light of who He is. Because He is worthy. And because in each and every storm that’s rolled across the plain of my life, He has been with me.

Astonishingly, I find that along with Casting Crowns, I can actually mean those words, even live those words if I have too, however painful it is.

Please join me today in prayer for all those affected by those terrible storms yesterday. My heart aches for my friends in the midwest. And my heart aches for the other kinds of storms I listed too. As I heard Duane Scott say this morning on Facebook, “Insurance agency will replace everything in the basement so we’re gonna take showers now, get the sewer water washed off, and drive into town for breakfast.” I smiled when I read what he said next in light of all that is happening. Everywhere.

“Sometimes all you can do is just eat pancakes.”

Thank you Duane, I see the beauty and wisdom in that, and bless you for saying it and living it. I am not having pancakes, but later today I will pour myself an icy cold drink and I will go out and float in my kiddie pool for a while.

Because God hasn’t left. He’s still here with us. Especially in the storms.

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39

All imagines from MSN and Bing AP news

Wish you were here……God

The God of the Universe thinks about you. Not just once, not just every now and then, but several times a day. Let that thought stop you in your tracks today. Let it stun you. Let it fill you with wonder.

O Lord, You have searched me and known me.
You know my sitting down and my rising up;
You understand my thought afar off.
You comprehend my path and my lying down,
And are acquainted with all my ways.
For there is not a word on my tongue,
But behold, O Lord, You know it altogether. Psalm 139:1-4

And if he could send a postcard from Heaven, it would have your name and below that, “Wish you were here” or one I like even better…..”Can’t wait to see you ____” Fill in your own name there.

Just imagine how excited He must feel when He knows another of His children will get to see everything He has prepared……….It’s like that feeling when you buy someone you care about the perfect gift and you absolutely can’t wait until they open it.

God is ready. But He can’t show you quite yet He’s still preparing it, and you.

When everything is ready, I will come and get you, so that you will always be with me where I am. Jesus

Consider that today can be the first gift of your new life, open it. And don’t forget to thank Him, even if it’s only a pair of socks, cause socks from God are still a pretty neat gift, especially when you think that everyday from now on it just gets closer to the really Big Gift.

You know the one. Remember Christmas? You had all those little gifts, practical things like pajamas and sweaters? All along you had your eye on that BIG gift in the corner. And really, your parents did too.

They were saving the best for last.

So is He.

Lori's Prayer Closet

"And when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done is secret, will reward you……"Matthew 6:6

Everyday Faith