Filled to the brim.......with HIM???

Hello all.

Hang on to your hats, this is gonna sound like a rant.

And I believe it is. It is time for it. It is for me, and perhaps you as well.


It all began a few years ago now. When I found a cool book club for ladies and followed each weekly reading and video. It was an amazing book. AMAZING. God used that book to really change my view of Christianity as a whole.

It was great, there was this emotional connection to these gals and I as we read it together. EVEN though they had read the book like, six months prior......ANNNND  prerecorded the videos, ANNNND never met me. Yeah. Like that.

I found blogs. I followed. I cried. I laughed.

And a year went on and I am at this place now where I have grown weary of following,

THEM.

Women love to be a part of something. Something big. They love big ladies meetings, BIG door prizes, Big lunches and even Big shopping sprees.

I get it. I am one.

There finally reaches a point where Bigger isn't better. Ok, unless you are talking about Mallow Cups. Just.cannot.get.enough.of.them

But besides them, bigger is not better. Sometimes, many times, smaller, quieter, unnoticed is better.

I found that this fantastic woman who writes, takes pictures with really expensive equipment, has narry a bad hair day, yeah, she loves God. That's great.

But she's also meeting her besties several weekends out of the year to just enjoy each other. Flying down south for private teas in gardens, just to know God. Travelling without Littles hither thither and yon eating delish food and hanging out with a whole bunch of other ladies for a week who pay to hear them just "share."

If I could gather twenty of my besties for a weekend every few months, I'd be writing the next bestseller too.

Catch my drift???

When I pop on twitter or instagram and see that no one is caring about the pic itself, but where they can find those boots, those skinny jeans and for Pete's sake that hair color, it just turns my lip up and reminds me that people are people.

Even people who love the Lord. Like, a LOT.

Women helping other women is important. Older women teaching, guiding, loving on the younger women is part of God's design.

But all to quickly, we can look to other women as some kind of Hollywood stars, place them on a pedestal that they themselves might not even want. They comment on OUR comment and we swoon.

Look, I've been there.

Approval from someone we admire is great.

But it's not necessary.

We've swapped it all for the Martha Stewart Christianity thing again.

Sigh.

Because of the spotlight and book promotions we have been drawn to that perfect woman and away from the lady down the street who is so unbelievably wise.

We have forgotten our Pastor's wife who loved us through our ugly cry over not being able to handle one more discipline problem.

We somehow think that the glam makes someone more wise, more adoring, more spiritual than that Mom of four behind us in church who will never see worldly promotion.

Her boots will never be coveted, Her hair color never matched with fervor, Her written words never poured over.

And that is a terrible shame.

Though I never make the NY Times list, my writing is still valuable, and so is yours. If God enables you to do something, do it with your might, though no one may ever know.

Buzz around people takes our eyes off of Him who has always been sufficient for our every need.

He knows our hearts better than a best selling writer.

He wants to meet with us more than hundreds of ladies at a conference.

He IS our BIG NAME speaker.

And you don't need tickets to see Him. You don't have to wait for a sale to nab his latest masterpiece of a book.

You can conform to Him all you desire and find real peace from Him who changes not.

So.

Click out of Twitter. Get your face out of facebook. Forget that book that will be sure to make you the best Christian wife, mother, friend, sister, neighbor, car pooler that you could ever be in the whole entire existence of mankind.

Remember that it's not "them." They don't even know your name.

But He does.

His bestseller will change you and I more than any book known to man.

Sure, they are great in their own way. God used them, terrific. No hate to them.

But good people can be bad people if they keep you from the best PERSON.

My thoughts today.

Self-reliance gets a thumb's down

This week I had a Doctor's appointment. After a ruptured appendix in college and six littles surgically removed from this body in the span of nine years..... I am plum tired of them. Doctor's that is. :)

And though I love what they do, I hate seeing them.

You anticipate the visit, you get all sweaty waiting in the waiting room with day time soaps blaring and people trying not to stare at one another all equally disliking the fact that they are there as well.

Blah.

So, not my favorite thing to do.

I was wayyyyyyy overdue for a checkup so it was scheduled and on the calendar and I feared it like the plague.

On the way to the office I began to ponder all the things that my mind just hadn't had quiet enough to let settle. You Mom's know what I am talking about. This is why, on any given night, when you and your husband have just polished off the last of the brownies he catches you with a furrowed brow and a tear beginning to emerge. He asks you what on earth could possibly be wrong when you just ate half your body weight in chocolate. Any woman's dream.

You choke out that you were "just thinking" about whether or not your second grader will ever learn to tie his shoes and avoid public humiliation, combined with the fact that the washing machine part you need to stop it leaking costs more than you have in the budget.

He may think you half crazy, but it's in the quiet that those brain nags come and take.over.

So it was these nags that haunted me on the way to the Doctors. Financial hiccups, scary news, discipline problems, attitudes creeping up, losing hearts slowly..... they just hovered over like a black cloud.

And then, it was an October miracle. The clouds parted and grace covered everything like the heat that had finally kicked-on in the van and began to cover me head to toe. It was divine. No, it really was. God said, "I am bigger." I am in charge. And He reminded me of the devotion I had read that morning about refining.

When I saw the title after finding my glasses and still waking up, I cringed. "Lord. Fire? Refining? TO-DAY of all days???? I just cannot deal with it!" I read on anyway. The way that the author described the refiner and their delicate care moved me. The way the refiner sat and watched carefully, lest the metal would be lost or taxed beyond what it needed was speaking peace to my weariness.

I thought of God, loving me enough to put me through a fire, only to sit and lovingly watch lest I suffered too greatly. Only heated enough to mold.

Only heated enough to mold.

To MOLD.

I haven't been the most pliable human being, wife, mother, friend as of late.

I thought of all of this while I drove and while the heat warmed me from the outside in. I walked into the office with a calm and peace of knowing that God loves me enough not to leave me in the fire, but sit beside me with a watchful eye on the fires around me.

Only heating me enough to mold once again.

The visit was fine and I was off to have blood drawn. I could, by personal experience probably draw my own blood, but I sat and offered my left arm and without a wince, watched.

The tingle down my arm and pain shooting back up again brought instant tears. This was not normal for me. I found out quickly that it wasn't normal for a lot of people.

The needle hit a nerve.

In all my years of blood drawn I have never had someone hit a nerve. I never even knew to fear it. I just lived sticking my arm out and letting someone stick something in it. The nurse was obviously horrified and I did my best to comfort her and assure her that it could have happened to anyone.

As a side note, I have this weird way of comforting people who feel badly about a service they have rendered me. I once gave a gift to a hairdresser who chopped all my hair off with all smiles and hugs, only to head home and cry for two days..... Well there could be weirder things I guess....

No instructions were given about what to watch for, how to take care of the nerve... I think that nurse just wanted to go and cry herself and get me outta there like last week's recycling.

I headed home and was just thankful the whole thing was over. That is until the next night after knitting. I could hardly stretch my arm out. I was fearful to move my fingers, especially my thumb, and the pain was back. It was enough of a bother to make you a bit cranky from the pain. I sighed. Then I got a little hypochondriac-ish.

I googled and for fear's sake just read the first post regarding blood draws and nerves. The rest of my nerves were on edge and I went to bed spent with worry.

The next day it still bothered me but not to the same extent. Then the following day I began to wonder if this was going to be a looong road.

I have things to knit! A Christmas craft show to prepare for!

Finally, I ran to the Lord. Joel had the kids on an errand and I had time. Time to finally read deep. The Lord took me to 2 Chronicles 6 and 7. I marveled at Solomon's loong speech regarding the building of the temple after such a long wait. FIVE times in chapter six Solomon asks the Lord to forgive the people when they come to Him with a transgression. That really spoke volumes to me. He didn't just ask the Lord to forgive all their sins. He chose five separate instances where the people might fall and asked Him that when he heard their cry, to forgive them.

Solomon also asks if it is even possible for the God of heaven and heavens of heavens to dwell in that temple; if the temple could even contain a piece of his glory. Wow. That took God out of the neat box I always seem to put him in and reminded me of His infinite power and might. Then in verse 30 Solomon says:
     "Then hear thou from heaven thy dwelling place, and forgive, and render unto every man according unto all his ways, whose heart thou knowest; (for thou only knowest the hearts of the children of men:)"

He is all powerful. And only He knows my heart.

Chapter seven carries that all familiar verse 14 we hear quoted so often for our nation:

"If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land."

Many of us fail to remember that this word from the Lord came at night after Solomon had offered the temple to the Lord. The Lord had already accepted the sacrifice of the people. Had already shown them His glory. This word in the night, was more of a reminder to Solomon. And that is sweet to me.

God didn't withhold his glory and blessing from the people until they had met Him and settled some things. He knew their hearts as only He can, and then after blessing came to Solomon and reminded him of what that relationship with Him meant.

We are His temple. I am His temple. And the Lord, in that quiet time, reminded me that it is He that gives my arms strength. It is He who loves me enough to keep me moldable for His purposes. I turned to Him, repented of my idolatry ( making myself a God before Him) , and even making a good pastime the most important thing. He met with me just as He had Solomon, and forgave. In that stillness of spirit, I was reminded of the vastness of God.

He loves us enough to allow the fire to bring us back to a moldable state.

For HIS glory.

I am thankful for a little bit of a bum arm. Will it last? God knows. But I know I am a child of his this day. I am a child that He loves very much. So much that He will allow trial small or great, to remind me of Him and His ultimate plan for my life.

He loves you too. Look for Him in your fire. He is sitting there beside.

Lessons from the Road Trip

It was Wednesday evening and we were leaving in the morning, early. If I had one outfit I had a dozen on the bed or draped over the footboard because I was beyond stressed about what I should wear when I see people, some of them I haven’t seen in too many years to remember.

I decided on a skirt that I knew no one else had a copy of, because that, for some odd reason made me feel lovely. What wasn’t so lovely was the fact that the two pounds I had gained stress eating for this trip really made this skirt tight at the waist. I was uncomfortable, but who needs comfort when you have college friends to impress??? I was bringing support hose....bam. It was in the bag. I messaged a friend that next morning and literally sent her four or five outfit options JUST for the traveling. :) She saw past the sweaters and spoke such truth into me. “Just love on the person in front of you. Forget the crowd.”  Got it. Wow. Ok. I can do this.

A little less than a quarter of the way down the road we blew a tire. Poor Joel had to hoof it to a service station on the freeway while we watched some Duggar goodness on the ipad. A few minutes turned into an hour and some and I could imagine that even my cool as a cucumber husband was even to begin to unravel a teensy bit. He came to rescue us with a tow truck, but we had no place to seat all the rest of the family. A friend came to our aid and met Joel with the kids on the side of the road, while Isaac and I loaded into the tow truck for parts unknown. Joel and I were not only totaling up the time   we have left to make it to our destination, but also the hefty price tag that would surely be attached....

A sweet Italian mechanic allowed me to park the van at his lot until we came back on Saturday evening and the church allowed us to graciously take their van to complete the trip. A few cheeseburgers later we were on our way again and I wasted no time plucking my eyebrows in anticipation of the evening ahead.

We arrived, changed clothes and I was taming my hair for the last time when Joel called me over. “Stop curling your hair and come here and sit with me.”  He was wrapping up his study time and we just looked at each other.  He calmed my spirit in the same way my friend had and just told me that we were going to be “us.” It didn’t matter what we wore, what we said, it was all about Christ. It was none of us. It was so sweet and lovely to come together as a family and pray for God to use us in some small way if it be His will. That He would have preeminence and we would just be instruments of His grace that evening. We were a family and we loved the Lord and that was the bottom line.

Out we went to face everyone. I kept repeating to myself, “Love on the person in front of you. Forget the crowd” I looked into the eyes of each person in front of me and tried to love them as God would if He was speaking to them.  Joel opened God’s word and I felt the arm of my oldest son creep around my neck. It.was.perfect. We were together, and we were just instruments to use. People who had invested in our lives in college filed past and we thanked every one of them. We brought small tokens of our appreciation for them and the littles had fun delivering them. 

With the tow bill hanging over us, we went to bed that night and wondered if our plans for a big Chicago day with the Littles was stalled. Allll night our youngest wailed that her ears hurt her. Now this may come as a shock. Prepare yourself. We have never had a Little with an ear infection. Nope. Never, ever. So this was  a predicament of vast proportions in my eyes. We had just had a looong good day, and were utterly and completely exhausted. I rocked, I used a hot compress, I took her earrings out, I massaged her ears and throat, I prayed over her and asked the Lord to bind Satan’s attempts to hinder us and discourage us. The Lord reminded me that I had brought some oils with me that might help. I put a drop of theives oil in each ear and prayed some more. I’m not quite sure what time she finally settled down, but it was well after three.

I had made previous plans with some old friends for coffee that next morning at ten. I fell asleep on the floor, because she was asleep on the bed by Joel and I was not about to wake her, and wondered if every plan we made had just gone up in smoke.

Two VERY zealous Littles who are way too big for their britches wanted the college breakfast and devos experience so they woke us at seven. Flashbacks of roomies who were too happy in the morning for their own safety came flooding back to my mind.... It was a wonderful blessing that I was too tired to even blink.

They went merrily on their way and to our amazement our youngest woke like she had never seen a better morn in her 4 years on earth. With one eye opened I began to wonder if this day.just.might.work. after all.

Coffee was just blessed. It just was. It was a bunch of thirty-somethings bearing each other’s burdens and laughing over life we shared 30 pounds ago. It was good to reconnect, encourage one another and realize we are all just trying to stay one load of laundry ahead of the mess. We love our husbands, our children, and our Lord.

I met Joel and the kids and he showed me an envelope he had been given that morning. It was just a white envelope and the words on the front read something like, “Joel, you did work for me years ago and were a blessing. I want to be a blessing to you and your family as you enjoy a day in Chicago.” Joel opened the envelope and I opened my mouth in disbelief. 

Only God. 

Only He can touch a man’s heart to give from a gracious heart, for a job completed 15 years ago.

Only He can take a weary mess and bless two little ears and our hearts and make eyes with bags under them wet with tears of gratitude.

The kids have just had the weekend of a lifetime. The train ride into the city, the sites, the foods, the stores.....They giggled when we pointed out, at their pleading, where we met for the first time, where we ate, where we walked, where we each lived, and where God began to mould us into what we are today. It was fun introducing those we owe so much gratitude to, to our Littles. It was more fun remembering that we are a family. We are perfect because we are who God made us to be and support hose  cannot even contain all the blessings that God has for those who give themselves back to Him to be used in whatever way He deems good.

We are on our way home.

The whole family

A Wrinkle Caught in Time

She had called and asked to speak to us.


She is always gracious, but this sounded serious. We  had to all be together she said, Joel and I and her. A few church services came and went and we never met up.

Until tonight.

A day or so ago I worried that something was really wrong, that she needed us to help her with something and wondered if we shouldn't just go to her home and meet.

Once she even attempted to WALK to our house from the bus stop, but the bus had been in an accident and so she waited at her stop in vain.

Something was not right.

I chatted with this one and that one and practiced a song and gathered the littles like a hen gathers chicks and almost forgot about our "meeting."

And then there she was. Sitting sweetly, Bible and purse on her lap and Joel was ushering us all into his office.

I always feel awkward at this moment. I offer her a seat and then just get comfortable and wait. You don't know the reason for the meeting so you don't know how to prepare. 

You just wait.

And the story began to unfold as she spoke more with her hands than anything and I listened.

She smiled at me and opened her Bible. She said that she meant to go home last week and read the passage that Joel preached out of to review it in her mind, and by mistake landed in another chapter. While she was there a verse she highlighted years ago struck her and gripped her heart.


"For behold this selfsame thing, that ye sorrowed after a godly sort, what carefulness it wrought in you, yea, what clearing of yourselves, yea, what indignation, yea, what fear, yea, what vehement desire, yea, what zeal, yea, what revenge! In all things ye have approved yourselves to be clear in this matter." II Corinthians 7:11

She said she kept asking the Lord if she needed to be "Clear" in some matter, and if so, which one, with whom??

She said that this was why she wanted ME to be in this meeting so badly.

I swallowed hard. Eyes wide, heart racing.

She kept unfolding a story and I tried to keep my eyes directly on her so as not to miss any inkling of what I had done to offend this sweet lady.

It was about a dress. Months ago, actually a year ago she had wanted to bless our family in some way. I told her that she was sweet and lovely and that was blessing enough, though she insisted still. She mentioned that she used to do some ironing for a family in the church to be a help to a mother of many littles and wondered if that was something I would need?

I remember thinking that was too generous too kind and she was just too old to be tackling my ironing pile!

She insisted week after week so I finally relented. 

And for a month or so she blessed us so with her sweet prayer filled ironing.

One day she arrived at our door! Walking all the way from the bus stop, after catching a bus at her house with a garment in her hands. She was beside herself with worry and I can still see the look in her eyes of just shame.

She had noticed a spot on one of the girl's dresses and tried her best to remove it with every concoction she could remember. It bleached the dress and rendered it unusable and she was so distraught that she walked to us to tell us so!

I had never seen such a thing in my life. I was sorry to lose the dress, but even more sorry to see her walk and feel so guilt ridden. 

She spoke to Joel about it and life went on and she was unable to help us due to her health and I was just happy to have her smiling at us each service.

The "matter" that she said the Holy Spirit was convicting her of was surrounding the dress. I looked stunned and shocked. 

Mostly because I thought to myself, "Wasn't that cleared up a loooong time ago?" And then my heart reminded me of two messages I had sent this very day concerning the Holy Spirit and His leading me to just contact two friends. Two old "matters" that He wanted me to make sure were "clear." How interesting that the Lord would have ME send those messages and then here this message from this dear old saint. 

My mind then flashed to another matter. One that I needed to clear up. One that I needed to humble myself in.

She proceeded to look as though she knew what I had done and what I needed to do. I listened intently as she placed her hand on my shoulder and told me that all those months ago, she had spoken to my husband, and she should have spoken to ME. I hugged her and laughed and she told me that it wasn't a huge weight between us, but just something that just like the scripture had attested, needed "cleared."

And though I am sure she had no idea what she was about to tell me next would make such a profound impact and tie the whole situation in that room and in my heart into a perfect bow, she began another story.

It was of her Father, a blind minister who told her once that Jesus wants us to be his Bride, spotless and without wrinkle. 

Without Wrinkle.

She said that a wrinkle doesn't have to be dirty. And I said the next phrase in perfect sync with her, "It's just creased."

It's just something that takes away from the Bride's appearance. It is one flaw that needs corrected.  Little did I know how this soiled dress would speak volumes to me over a year latter through a woman who is a beautiful Bride of Christ's.

I asked her if she would excuse me. I had a phone call to make.....

"Marriage" has a nice ring to it. Wouldn't you agree?

               My lack of blogging is by no means a lack of living. In truth, the amount of living has led to the lack of writing. I know you all understand. Would you believe that a running documentary has been going on mentally and yet it wasn't until a friend mentioned that he reads a "certain" blog, but a certain "someone" hasn't posted in way too long, that I finally hit the keys again? Well this is the result of that prompting.

If he wasn't talking about me, well it's time to jump in with both feet again anyhow.

Summer has been warm and lovely and the tan lines from arms and legs are beginning to fade. Before vacation began I had the divine idea of buying my husband food from a local posh restaurant and transforming his office into all things romantical.

I headed to the restaurant and a very nice greeter met me. I had dressed for a fancy date and his niceness took me back. Sure people are nice, but it had been a while since a real date and I sat at a table to look over the menu with a sort of redness in my cheeks. And while looking over the menu, even though I KNEW what I wanted to order when I left the house, I did a strange thing.

I turned my ring around. It was weird and quick and thoughtless and so many other words that escape me at this moment. A little attention turned my head....and tugged at my heart. In the restaurant I could cross my ankles and smell lovely and sport a new shade of lipstick and almost escape from laundry and nagging and crumbs. And I sat in this wonderland for a good few moments, really thinking about what the turning of a ring can mean.

Unknown to me a business meeting was taking place a few tables over. Each man ordered a drink and slapped each other on the back. They were as sincerely glad to see each other as I am to see spiders. I was intrigued and began to watch them intently while my tomato basil soup was prepared. Besides this gave me ample time to forget about my quandary and focus on something else. The slim waitress came and greeted the men who were only too happy to greet her in return. They flirted with her for a good five minutes when the Spirit finally got ahold of me.

I fingered my ring, and remembered.

The busboy came again to tell me that my order would be right up, and with the strangest face I am sure a customer has ever given him, I nodded.

This young kid has not stood by me for almost 15 years. He hasn't seen me good and bad, teary and joy filled. He has not gone to the store just because something sounded good, heard my heart on a matter, prayed over me when words of my own couldn't reach the surface. He would never patiently allow the Lord to chip my rough edges off or walk barefoot in the grass with me. He wouldn't tell me I was a good teacher even though we all know that's probably the only lie he's ever told.

My eyes glanced at the men having the meeting. They were really disgusting to me. And the Spirit told me I was in the same boat with them. They were all married men as displayed by their rings......

Rings.

Again, I fingered my own set.

Promises meant to be kept. If I was anything, I was loyal. Or so I said to everyone. Loyal. Loyal until some waiter smiles and makes me feel like a million dollars.

I grabbed the food and was almost running out the door. I must get to him. MY him.

And that I did. He was overjoyed to see me and that made me want to just be sick right then and there.

I spread all the food before him,  and before he could rub my arm again or cheerily tell me how much this made his day I sat him down. I told him what had happened. How it felt good to be noticed, smiled at.

Through tears I told him that for a moment my heart had skipped and my ring had turned.

I told him how the Lord smote me and flooded my memory of all that we had weathered.

And I made the decision to choose him again. And again and again and again.

I told him how those men disgusted me and how I disgusted myself.

We hugged and he wiped tears and we sipped soup and he told me to share this with all of you. He thought it was  a wonderful reminder of the choice we make everyday.

Because children pull at you and work never ends and you will always find something that will make you angry at one another if you peer hard enough through a lens labled "discontent." And the stats will tell you that if you make it years into marriage and don't jump ship, that the memories that you share together make the last of the voyage even sweeter than the first kiss.

Even sweeter??? Yes. Even sweeter.

My husband proposed to me again at our ten year mark and got down on one knee. I was expecting Alayna and on bed rest, but we escaped to the park where our wedding pictures were taken anyway. We were more nervous that day and more aware of what a lifetime really meant then we were ten years previous. And he put another beautiful ring on my finger.

I hadn't wore it much because I never really got it the right size. I decided to bite the bullet and get it sized to enjoy, now heading into our 15th year. I wanted the beginning on one hand, and the building of history on the other.

It really has taken some getting used to, this other ring. It feels funny and even bothers me a bit. This not having a ring on for years can do that to you. My wedding set just feels like part of my hand now. Sometimes it's like old hat to me. Shame on me, but it is. This new ring, or old ring, or whatever you want to call it, is good for me to see. 6 diamonds for 6 littles, 3 girls on one side and 3 boys on the other. One large stone hugged by two middle sized ones symbolizing Joel and I and our only refuge.

The Lord Jesus Christ.

This was not easy to type, or admit. But it is real and heartfelt and honest. Marriage takes work and grace and loyalty to one another. It takes forgiving and looking at your sin as distasteful as the other's. It takes falling on your face and quiet strength.

It is all together lovely. And I am better for it, blessed by it everyday, and humbled that it was God's idea for me.

A little syrup goes a long way

I keep a small bottle of maple syrup in my purse.

well confession IS good for the soul.

It came from probably the BEST date known to man at a Cracker Barrel a few days ago.

We talked, shared ham and pancakes and one bottle of warm maple syrup.

I was content until I saw the man across the way. He had a lot more than one lone bottle.

So I asked. You have not because you ask not, right?

And I was given another bottle, that I instinctively slipped into the purse.

It makes me happy just by being there.

Makes me feel prepared, like a swiss army knife, for any situation.

Stranded somewhere? Bam! Out comes the syrup to ration until help comes.

Help still not coming? Bam! write a note (On a very very very small piece of paper) and send it down stream.

Ok so its not as practical as a swiss army knife, I will give you that, but it still makes me feel so prepared. So happy.

Maybe it makes me feel so happy because I associate it with hot coffee and melt in your mouth pancakes.

Yeah, that just may be it.

And last night I stayed up waaaaay late to catch up on news.

For you worriers like myself, this is probably not the time to catch up on news.

late at night....when everyone is sleeping. Just throwin a help out there.

And it was bombings and babies being aborted with their tiny feet left in jars, and women mutilated and paying for it, and young girls beautiful, snuffing out their life so soon because of deep pain.

And if I am not careful I can find security and comfort in the fact that I have locked all the doors and tucked all the children in.

That I am far away from Boston, waited for marriage to have children, and walked the straight and narrow in high school. That if the rapture would happen this very moment all of my family would gather to meet Christ and rejoice for all eternity.

If I am not careful I will hide and pad my nest and shut out the world.

I will refuse to care about my neighbor 100 yards away thinking he is safe from all harm as well.

And late at night the faces of the children I will never meet from missionary slides comes to mind. And the lady at the grocery store I have come to seek out each trip. And the family member that hasn't really considered what an eternity without Christ really means for him.

But what if? What if it was my son who died in the explosion in Boston?

Could I have the heart of Christ and forgive these young men? Could I show grace that only comes from God?

Do I read the news and turn up my nose or say, "Forgive them Lord, for they do not know what they are doing."

And the Lord reminds me of my little bottle of syrup.

The one only I know about.

Well, now you do too.

And last night in my warm and comfy bed, while beginning a new knitted sock, the Lord decided to remind me of my syrup.

Will you enjoy your own comfort, family, life, ETERNAL life, and let the world just get their just desserts?

Will you shun, say, "they made their bed, let them lie in it?" and turn off the computer and close your eyes and refuse to care?

Will you let your friend, a stranger, a neighbor, a relative die and miss heaven because you had it and kept it to yourself?

Why?

Because you are blessed you can hoard it and only care about your own and their safety?

What if someone lived next door with the gospel and hid it under a basket and you went to bed another night not knowing, doing the best you could, and the light was only a few yards away?

How smitten my heart was.

It isn't just news.

It isn't just a faraway state.

It isn't just some lady in some clinic who lost the ability to ever have another child again.

It is a lost and helpless world.

And there is syrup for us all.

For.us.all.

I have breath in my lungs today to spread the good news.

It is the reason we are alive.

It is our sole responsibility.

Lord, forgive my apathy.

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