The Aroma of Grace

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We’re back on Highway 2, the same road I’ve taken to the city and home for seventeen years.  This time more than a quick trip to the city, we’ve crossed several state lines and driven a dozen hours to get back to the familiar.  Back to the rolling hills laden with ripening wheat.  The red barns.  The roads named after farmers long gone, whose land still feeds and clothes their sons and grandsons. 

Though they mark our nearness to home, I hardly give them thought.  Hardly realize that I’m watching for Zeimer Road, now that we’ve passed Janett Road.  I’m so fixed on getting out of the car, that I don’t really appreciate it all. 

And then slowly my subconscious wakes up and I notice.  It smells like home.  I take a deep breath of the earthy, late summer smell.  The smell of wheat turning to gold.  The smell of land well loved.

I look over to my husband, weary chauffer, “You smell that?” I ask.  “Smells like home.”  He nods that it does.  I smile.  Home.  I hardly know a word as pleasing. 

But before we know it we’re pulling in to the garage and unloading suitcases and  I’m doing laundry and feeding souls and life is back to it’s normal rhythm.

That is, until the next time I’m on my way home from the city.   This time I’m alone, lost in my thoughts.  I pass the Grange Hall where the straight as an arrow road finally bends. 

Not a mile later, I smell it again.  The familiar.  The smell of home.  I smile and think how much I love this place. 

Then I realize, it’s ten miles sooner that I drink it in today.  And I wonder, was I really so oblivious a few days earlier?  Why hadn’t I noticed?  Had it really taken my subconscious ten miles to wake me up?   I’m vaguely bothered by the inclination. 

My discomfort grows.  I’m face to face with the fact that too often I sleep with my eyes open, blind to the glorious beauty of the mundane.  Deaf to the miraculous melodies in the familiar.  And worst of all, oblivious to the aroma of grace.  I journey miles and miles without breathing it sweet. 

And I know then, that just like the smell of home lingered in the air for ten miles before I finally woke up to it, His grace is all around me, abounding.  It’s always there, even when all I breathe is the stale car air of the mundane. 

The smell of grace hangs in the air, waiting to nourish, comfort and thrill.  His blessings abound.  And I, for one, never want to return to shallow breathing but instead daily partake of the wondrous aroma of grace.  

Continuing the count:

1229.  Sitting through an entire sermon

1273.  Waves crashing, hearts talking

1301. The smell of home

1311.  A year without any major health crises

1312.  Baby girl on the way! 

1324.  Those who encouraged me to start writing again

1352.  Sons reading Frog & Toad

1355.  Pink and purple sunrises

God Shouts

"God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." C.S. Lewis

Though I don't ask for pain, it awakens my senses like nothing else can.  I have known this before.  Now I live it again.     

I see the spoon God offers me.  I put it to my lips reluctantly and wonder, "Can I really swallow this strong tonic?  Or will it kill me?"  I don't know if I can withstand this pain. 

I am weak and too often buried under my circumstances.  I have swam in the torrent of my own tears.  I've been captive of fear, prisoner of panic, slave of self-pity.    

"Lord, I believe!  Help Thou my unbelief!  Though you slay me, I will trust in You."  Tentative, I open my mouth to take it all in.  My unbelief lingers.  I expect to sputter out a "Marah".  

But instead I taste honey.  And it is good.  Not because it cures me.  Not because I suddenly feel no pain.  It is good  because it is wakes me up to God near, nearer than ever before.  He's everywhere.  His goodness, His mercy, His grace, His love, His comfort.

Do you think God is shouting?  Or am I just FINALLY listening? 

Continuing the count:

997. MS
1026. Jesus!  Hope!
1064. Driftwood cross
1099. All for His glory
1100. All for my good
1111.  Budding trees
1116. Laughing until you cry - twice in one day!
1129.  Heart groaning
1130. Redemption coming
1165.  God's friend
1174.  Gentle breezes
1206. Birdsong
1212. God shouting



Remind Me to Praise You

Dear Father,

Thank you for all You are and all You have graciously given me.  I long to have a thankful heart that is easily given to Your praise, to lifting up Your name. 

Yet, so often, Lord, I confess that I fail to stop and know You.  I merely rush through my day not acknowledging the blessings I am already experiencing. 

I pray that Your Spirit would minister to my heart in those moments with a reminder, with a word of caution, that I might slow down, stop and bless Your name! 

For You are the mighty God of the universe, the Creator of the ends of the earth, the One who has existed from eternity and who rules with power, justice and love.  You are an awesome God.   Nothing compares to You.  Your deeds are unmatched and recounted all the world over!  You rule and reign in majesty!  You reveal the thoughts and intents of hearts and cleanse by the power of your own Son’s blood!  You deserve to be praised! 

You saved me, redeemed me, made me one of Your own!  Thank you for Your unmerited favor and for Your mercy towards me, oh God!  I don’t deserve what You have given me, what You have done for me, but I am so grateful to You, the Giver of all good gifts! 

*Originally written in December 2009, before God healed me completely from the vision loss in my left eye.  It was followed by 4 pages of things I was thankful for.  I found it again today and thought it was fitting for a 1000 Gifts post.  

797.  The privilege of homeschooling! 

803.  A loving family to miss

813.  Sewing Lessons

814. An imperfect, but finished shower curtain

818.  Dessert blooms

825.  A gentle breeze

836.  The pain that drives us to Him

837.  My 5 year old reading to me!  Wonder!

I’m Looking Out the Window

Twenty years later, I find her words ringing in my ears.  I miss that voice enough to squeeze my eyes shut hard, stop the tears springing up and listen.  How I cherish this hands on hips proclamation returned to me.  Would that she could too.     

We were rolling down some Montana highway when she’d marched to the back of the motor home and stood over us.   My cousin and I were each perched on skinny twin couches next to a window.   

“You may not read one more page of those books until you look out the window for at least 30 minutes!”

Even though I knew Grandma was given to passionate proclamations from time to time, this one surprised me.  After all, she was an avid reader.  That same summer, I’d caught her up “way too late” because she couldn’t stop the turning of the page.  

Still, there was another narrative she found more powerful than any type engraved in paper.  The one that has no words, yet speaks with a powerful voice, declaring the glory of God.  That was the one she was compelled to help us discover. 

And she did.  A thousand times before and after, so subtly that I’m not sure a one of us were cognizant of it at the time: slipping into a chair on the front deck at sunrise, coffee cup in hand; going barefoot through the ice cold stream; stopping on the trail to photograph a tiny pink flower; laughing at the fish jumping in the hatchery brook for five cent handfuls of food.  Peaks out the window, all.   

Grandma, today I want you to know I’m listening.  I’m pulling my nose out of the book of daily living for a look out the window, for a listen to the glory song.  I need to hear it.  I need to remember that the very thing that lifts me to a place of holy wonder is also the thing that grounds me - the worship of my Creator.

Looking out the window, the incomplete count continues:

491. Snail mail

506. 95 Manjui Baptized, wish I could have seen it with my own eyes! 

536. Family visiting from Colombia and the USA

570.  Sanapana Scripture portions ready for printing

587.  Pain that pushes us hard into Jesus

606. Cries of inadequacy

607.  His sufficiency

669.  Rain! 

710.  Explosions of yellow, tiny but beautiful

726.  Grandma Bert

756.  Dreams – wild, crazy, with God all things are possible dreams

776.  Salmon Sky

  

781.  Wild love, undeserved

788. My wonderful, merciful Savior

Close Enough to Breathe

I’ve admired it for a few days, small little patch of climbing pink flowers on the old tree trunk turned pillar near my driveway. 

A word of praise to God for this beautiful gift births a longing I can’t quench.  I have to get closer.  Seeing from afar isn’t enough, I need to breathe it’s scent, to trace it’s winding path with my fingers.   

I breathe and trace and notice my gift has welcomed another praise giver.  Majestic Butterfly.  He rests light and breathes sweet scent.   

Praise invites us to take a closer look.  A closer look confirms that which our hearts instinctively know.  There is more.  More than a flower, there is a butterfly.  More than a far off view of splendor, there is a God and a glory that is close enough to breathe.       

Savoring the sweet scent of His never ending goodness:

286.  Conversations over the dishes

295.  God’s Word in my language

304.  Practical parenting wisdom spoken by God’s Spirit straight to my heart

327.  Dog and boy playing tug-o-war

334.  A dream come true

355. Grandma’s blue glass and precious memories

380. Our welcome to this community

409. Cool days

429.  Little boy jokes

431.  Christ’s death in my place

452. That His Word always has more for me

466.  Porch sitting with my love

474.  Kids who love to read 

Two Little Redheaded Gift Finders

Today I am so thankful for my two little redheads.  Not only are they themselves gifts from God, but they have taught me to slow down and be captivated by the mysterious and wonderful gifts God has laid in my path - gifts which I stopped pausing to unwrap along the road to busy adulthood and “important” work.

 

Thank you, Father, for entrusting me with these treasure seekers, these gift finders so I can learn to behold again the wonder of your world!  You are the source of EVERY good and perfect gift!   

Continuing the count, though it is surely incomplete…

233.  Hysterical laughter at the dinner table

235.  After school hugs

244.  Sun rising

252. Restorative sleep

259.  Sweet notes in the morning

265.  Hazelnut coffee with my love

273.  The luxury of learning

279.  My dryer

281.  Turquoise and the way it makes me smile

Finding Him in All Things

"When in all gifts we find Him, then in Him we shall find all things."  George MacDonald

This week I had the joy of finding Him in:

187.  Naptime

190.  Evening walks

201.  Creamy mashed potatoes

205.  A helpful husband

207.  Hug in a box (package from home)

211.  Slow days

212.  Gentle breeze

215.  Apples of gold

216.  Tender souls

221.  The baby’s laughter

230.  Dew on grass and feet

232.  My 10 year old espresso machine (may she never die!)

Still Counting All the Ways He Loves Me!

Continuing to acknowledge all the ways He whispers, “I love you!”

132. Another step closer to a dream realized.

139. Little handprints on freshly cleaned glass – I enjoy them because I know someday I will long for them. 

140.  Double.Chocolate.Treats!

145.  Exciting opportunity to grow with Philippians and 7 women.

150.  Yummy candle and generous husband.

155.  The explosion of flowers!

159.  People who step out in faith, regardless of the cost!

173.  He makes all things beautiful. 

184.  Freshly washed sheets    

185.  New Books!

Hidden Gifts Found through Praise

The more I praise God for all His gifts, the more my heart ascends to a place of exhilaration.  I am changed, and He is glorified, when acknowledge how frequently, consistently, and deeply His fingerprints dot the landscape of my life. 

Sometimes, like this past week, His handprint at first seems misplaced in the uncomely, the undesirable and I am blind to see how these things can be gifts.  So I am thankful to be on this journey of a 1000 gifts because

the looking leads to finding,

the finding leads to praising, 

the praising leads to glorifying, 

and the glorifying leads to exhilarating

in Him, my greatest gift.

 

Continuing to count the ways He blesses me:

83.  A home that feels like us.

87.  Raspberries.

90.  My failures and how they reveal areas in my life that need transformed.  

94.  God’s word – my soul’s reviver.

102.  Christ is coming soon!

104.  Being literate and the luxury of having affordable literature available in my language. 

108.  Measuring, dumping and baking with my sous chef, Darling Little Redhead, and all the I love yous that ensued. 

112.  Sweeping and time to think. 

114.  Quiet talks in the night. 

117.  Protection of my children – we found a black widow this week in one of their toys!

128.  I have been brought near to God through Jesus. 

130.  Rain and the way life bursts forth in flowers. 

Partying in the Capital and the Praise Goes On

We are in Asuncion this week for meetings, shopping…and a very special SURPRISE birthday party for three of our co-workers, turning 40, 50 and 6o respectively!   

 

I had the joy of decorating for the party!  The colors were black and white with red accents. 

 

I love how these giant peonies hanging from the ceiling turned out…there were red ones too.  I know you can get them pre-made in the US, but it really wasn’t too hard to make from scratch, just took a little time (but well worth it - I will definitely make them again). 

The gift table centerpiece, just empty boxes wrapped up pretty!  The fabric in the frame flanking it is leftover fabric from a skirt! 

Just had to prove there really were some red accents!  :)

These were to go in the food, but that didn’t quite work out so I just put them on the wall.  Flexibility is key when you are making your decorations five hours away away from your party destination!  :) 

So you can see I have lots to be thankful about this week!  Time to keep giving praise to the Blessed Controller of my life.  I am so thankful for:

54. Chocolate Dipped Croissants in the capital

55.  Absolutely no scarring to my optic nerve and a great report from my eye Dr.

56.  New co-workers and their courage

57.  Pain and the way it reminds me to think of others

61.  El Principito saying thank you in his little baby voice

64.  Ironing and the pleasure I get from removing wrinkles

67.  Raspberry jam found! 

69.  That God is faithfully showing me areas where I am NOT thankful so I can change

71. Excuses to decorate

73.  Polka Dots and the way they bring a smile to my face

74.  People who keep loving even when it hurts and the inspiration they are to me

 

Grass Blowing in the Breeze

Grass rustles in the wind and the praise goes on.    

Thanking the Giver of all good gifts for: 

11.  Grass waving in the breeze at sunset, catching the last snatches of light

19.  The way his laughter diffuses any tension

24.  Mud puddles and the joy they bring to little boys

27.  Convictions reaffirmed

30.  Little voices reciting Psalm 23

36. Darling Little Redhead’s reminders that we must cuddle first thing every morning (but how could I ever forget?)

44.  Peaches and cream in Grandma’s blue glass and reminders of her love

48. Butterflies that fly with damaged wings (Oh, how I see God’s redemption of my life in them!)

 

The Mundane Reborn as Worship

It’s not just another pile of laundry…

or another stack of dishes. 

It’s so much more for women who follow Jesus.  Every laundry basket and kitchen sink becomes a heavenly altar, just waiting to receive our acts of worship, our acceptable sacrifice to the God of the universe.  

I long to know that what I do all day actually matters.  Yet no matter how many inspirational quotes I read about the importance of being a stay at home mom, no matter how many times my husband tells me he appreciates me, I occasionally still find myself resentful and grumbling about having to put the baby’s board books back on the shelf AGAIN.  

It’s become pretty obvious to me that the only way I can maintain any long term passion for this job is to see each moment of my day as an opportunity for worship.  Dirty nose needing wiped?  “God, this is for you!”  Peanut butter sandwich needing to be cut into triangles (squares won’t do!)?  “Yes, Lord, thank you that I can serve you!”  Superman’s cape needing reattached, “Oh God, my hands work for you!”

It’s nothing revolutionary, perhaps, but for me the simple act of speaking the truth changes my attitude about the mundane.  Somehow laundry and dishes become almost desirable when they are reborn as opportunities to offer praise to God, my Strength!   

And yes, I do need to say it over and over all day long because when I don’t, I forget.  I forget that this is holy work and suddenly all I see are the dirty diapers waiting to be taken out to the trash, the leftovers needing to be put away and the toys strung from one end of the house to the other.  I forget so quickly that these routine things have the capacity to be transformed into something with eternal value – the worship of the only true God.        

I’ve decided to join Ann’s Gratitude Revolution so here’s the start of my list of a thousand gifts: 

1) Truth – that it renews my mind and that it’s available in my language

2) Unexpected Hugs

3) Honey, Darling Little Redhead and El Principito…all producers of laundry and dishes…and opportunities to praise God!  :)

4) Pancakes made with my sous chef, Darling Little Redhead

5) Wood puzzles with the baby and barking giraffes

6) A husband who cooks and cleans when I am unable (both with my eye crisis and again this weekend when I cut my hand and had to get five stitches)

7) Family on the mission field and our weekly dinner and game night

8) Nephews and Niece who love playing with my boys

9) For friends who accept me as I am

10) For Skype and email to communicate with family back home