Are you a busy mom who needs some simple and doable ideas for making your Thanksgiving Table beautiful? Head here to check out a few of my favorites!
photo:mhi
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Dressing Your Thanksgiving Table
Are you a busy mom who needs some simple and doable ideas for making your Thanksgiving Table beautiful? Head here to check out a few of my favorites!
photo:mhi
Monday, November 16, 2009
He’s My Home
We had just moved again. Tearfully saying goodbye to one beautiful season of ministry, I was propelled into another unwelcomed one. For the first time in my life, I was somewhere I didn’t want to be.
I was hanging onto my calling to missions, but only loosely. My hand limp, I cried weakly, “God, I can’t do this. It’s too much, this missionary life; this inevitable, unstoppable series of moves from one place to another.”
In the darkest and loneliest season of my life, I wanted only one thing. I wanted to go home. Except we couldn’t. So my cries of inadequacy were quieted only when I sat down with my Bible.
One day in that fleeting quietness, I reached Psalm 90: 1, “Lord, through all the generations you have been our home!” Tears streaming down my face, dotting the page, I could not move my eyes from that word. Home. It wasn’t a place 3,000 miles away, it was a person. It was Him.
Slowly over the course of the a few days, I was able to identify what home meant to me, release it and delight in the perfection of my new Home.
I started out by declaring that I wanted to live in the same house on the same street for the rest of my life. No more moves. No more suitcases.
He gently corrected me. What I really wanted wasn’t a white house on Main Street, but Him. “Child, the stability you crave is only found in me! I am the eternal, incorruptible Lord. I do not change! I’m the same yesterday, today and forever. I am your home.”
Then I explained that I wanted to be one of the belongers, to have my name written in the collective story, the shared history of a people. No more wondering how I fit. No more being an outsider.
He spoke back, “Have you forgotten? You are already one of the belongers. I chose you before the foundation of the earth. I wrote your name in the epic of the redeemed with My own Son’s blood. You’re not an outsider! You’re accepted in the Beloved and seated at my right hand forever. I am your home.”
Finally, I confessed my longing for deep, meaningful relationships. Friendships that would allow me to barge through the front door with barely a knock, plop down on the couch and tell my truth without fear. Ties unthreatened by the brokenness of my humanity, ties unadulterated by judgment. But no more being weighed in the balance. No more exhausting guardedness.
This time He whispered. “Child,” he said, “this freedom to barge into an earthly den and be met with open arms? It’s only a shadow. I am the fulfillment, the One casting that shadow. You have free access to Me through the Spirit! I welcome you to pour out your heart boldly and frankly, though you are broken and naked and lacking. There is no condemnation for you at this throne. Only grace. I am your home.”
It’s been seven years (and as many moves) since the light of Home shined hope into that dark season of my life. Still, I have much to learn about this exchange of temporal for eternal, of seen for unseen, of the shadow for the fulfillment. How thankful I am that the Spirit faithfully directs me Home to the One who satisfies my every longing.
“That something we long for, whether it be an island in the west or the other side of a mountain or perhaps a schooner yacht, long for it in the belief that it will mean joy, which it never fully does, because what we are really longing for is God.” Sheldon VanAuken, A Severe Mercy
I was hanging onto my calling to missions, but only loosely. My hand limp, I cried weakly, “God, I can’t do this. It’s too much, this missionary life; this inevitable, unstoppable series of moves from one place to another.”
In the darkest and loneliest season of my life, I wanted only one thing. I wanted to go home. Except we couldn’t. So my cries of inadequacy were quieted only when I sat down with my Bible.
One day in that fleeting quietness, I reached Psalm 90: 1, “Lord, through all the generations you have been our home!” Tears streaming down my face, dotting the page, I could not move my eyes from that word. Home. It wasn’t a place 3,000 miles away, it was a person. It was Him.
Slowly over the course of the a few days, I was able to identify what home meant to me, release it and delight in the perfection of my new Home.
I started out by declaring that I wanted to live in the same house on the same street for the rest of my life. No more moves. No more suitcases.
He gently corrected me. What I really wanted wasn’t a white house on Main Street, but Him. “Child, the stability you crave is only found in me! I am the eternal, incorruptible Lord. I do not change! I’m the same yesterday, today and forever. I am your home.”
Then I explained that I wanted to be one of the belongers, to have my name written in the collective story, the shared history of a people. No more wondering how I fit. No more being an outsider.
He spoke back, “Have you forgotten? You are already one of the belongers. I chose you before the foundation of the earth. I wrote your name in the epic of the redeemed with My own Son’s blood. You’re not an outsider! You’re accepted in the Beloved and seated at my right hand forever. I am your home.”
Finally, I confessed my longing for deep, meaningful relationships. Friendships that would allow me to barge through the front door with barely a knock, plop down on the couch and tell my truth without fear. Ties unthreatened by the brokenness of my humanity, ties unadulterated by judgment. But no more being weighed in the balance. No more exhausting guardedness.
This time He whispered. “Child,” he said, “this freedom to barge into an earthly den and be met with open arms? It’s only a shadow. I am the fulfillment, the One casting that shadow. You have free access to Me through the Spirit! I welcome you to pour out your heart boldly and frankly, though you are broken and naked and lacking. There is no condemnation for you at this throne. Only grace. I am your home.”
It’s been seven years (and as many moves) since the light of Home shined hope into that dark season of my life. Still, I have much to learn about this exchange of temporal for eternal, of seen for unseen, of the shadow for the fulfillment. How thankful I am that the Spirit faithfully directs me Home to the One who satisfies my every longing.
“That something we long for, whether it be an island in the west or the other side of a mountain or perhaps a schooner yacht, long for it in the belief that it will mean joy, which it never fully does, because what we are really longing for is God.” Sheldon VanAuken, A Severe Mercy
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Looking Unto Jesus and Nothing Else
"Looking Unto Jesus
and at nothing else,
to fix our gaze upon Him,
and to turn it away from everything else."
Looking Unto Jesus, translated from the French of Theodore Monod by Helen Willis
Photo: TouTouke
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
What’s Different – They Ride Bicycles
One of the things that makes my new home so charming, is that elderly people (and people of all ages) ride their bicycles around town.
Every time I see that one of them meandering along, I’m transported to a more wholesome era. An era when people took time to enjoy enjoy a scenic ride to the grocery store, to wave and call out a greeting to their neighbor. It’s very Old Europe and I love it!
And yes, they do have baskets on their bikes. Is it strange that I love that so much? :)
And yes, they do have baskets on their bikes. Is it strange that I love that so much? :)
Photo: All Posters
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Looking Unto Jesus – the Author and the Finisher
“Looking unto Jesus,
the author and the Finisher of our faith:
He Who is its pattern and its source,
even as He is its object;
so that by Him our faith may be inspired,
encouraged,
sustained,
and led on to its supreme consummation.”
If you haven’t already, be sure to enter the My Two Favorite Things Giveaway by tonight!
Looking Unto Jesus, translated from the French of Theodore Monod by Helen Willis
Photo: nathanpaw
Friday, November 6, 2009
An Empty Shampoo Bottle
It might not mean that much to you, an empty shampoo bottle. To me, it’s a sweet comfort. A little reminder that we’ve been in ONE place for three and a half months now.
Before we arrived to the Chaco of Paraguay, we had lived in five different locations in the course of 14 months. Most of those places kept with them a partially used shampoo bottle, evidence that we had passed through.
Don’t feel sorry for me though. While I would PREFER to live in the same house for the rest of my life, it’s not an all consuming desire like it used to be. Now I know that my Home travels with me, or I should say, I travel with Him.
Still, I thank God for the small comforts He offers me in my flawed humanity, things like squeezing that last little bit of shampoo out for one more wash.
Don’t miss My Two Favorite Things Giveaway! You have until Sunday night to enter!
Photo: contrapart
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Two of My Favorite Things for You!
I'm excited to share two of my favorite things with one blessed reader through a little giveaway! Unlike many giveaways, this one IS OPEN TO INTERNATIONAL READERS as a shout out to all my missionary sisters around the world!
One pound of coffee beans
and...
a digital subscription to Country Living Magazine through Zinio.
I was thrilled to find Zinio since I was unable to afford the overseas subscription to my magazine! I hope you will enjoy it too!
The giveaway is open until Sunday night, November 15th at midnight PST. You can win one entry for each of the following:
1. Leaving a lovely comment telling me what you are most thankful for today
2. Becoming a follower or subscribing in a reader OR already being a follower/subscriber.
3. Posting about the Two of My Favorite Things Giveaway on your blog
Please leave a separate comment for each entry. Good luck everyone and thanks for being such wonderful readers! Hugs from Paraguay!
****If you have a mailing address in the continental US, you can choose to forgo the coffee beans for the paper version of Country Living if you prefer.****
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