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Last December, someone posted a fabulous idea on Facebook.

On January 1st, place an empty jar on the kitchen counter. Each time something good happens, write it out on a piece of paper and drop it in the jar. (I used colored pieces of paper to make it look prettier). On December 31st, open the jar and read all the blessings that the year contained.

Our family actually did this all last year and I would highly recommend it.

As I have mentioned, 2013 was full of challenges and twists and turns that we did not expect. At times it was exhausting and when you feel like you are walking only uphill, it’s hard to remember that there are still blessings to be discovered.

At dinner on New Year’s Eve (before we all went our separate ways), my family gathered together and one by one, I read all the blessings God had graciously given us over those 365 days.

There were so many!

After we read the last one, there on the red tablecloth was a rainbow of paper scratched with blessings. A testimony to God’s faithfulness, His never-ending ability to provide joy in the midst of the hard.

His goodness, kindness, and mercy make me weep.

I loved this photo of our blessing jar in the afternoon sunshine because it reminded me that He IS Light and He alone will fill your life and mine with all the light we can hold.

Consider starting a blessing jar of your own to begin this new year?

You will be so glad you did.

”Marvel at the beauty of a life intertwined with My Presence.”—Jesus Calling, p. 381

I must admit that I am not sorry to see 2013 go.

It was by far one of the most challenging years that I have ever experienced.

Yet, because I walk with Jesus, the Author of Beauty, there was  dazzling beauty all along that rocky road.

By His grace, He allowed me to capture some of that beauty with my camera…

“Tomorrow is the first blank page of a 365 page book. Write a good one.”—Brad Paisley

My son Josh has published his first work of fiction.

It is a collection of six short stories that he has been working on for more than a year.

(I was an English major and I had no idea what “inchoate” meant. For those of you who may also be wondering, it means “not yet fully developed, just begun.”).

His dad and I are incredibly proud of him.

He informed us over a year ago that his goal was to publish his first work of fiction before he turned 18.

He has fulfilled that goal with three months to spare.

His dedication to this dream has been something to behold. He made himself write every day, even when it wasn’t convenient.

“Writers write,” he told me.

Writing to him is as necessary as breathing. He loves everything about it, including the challenge of pushing through writer’s block. He keeps a little notebook with him at all times so that when he is inspired by something he can immediately jot it down. If an idea hit him at 1:00 in the morning, he got up, turned on the colored Christmas lights that are draped around his room, and began to type away on his keyboard.

I definitely did not have that kind of drive when I was 17 years old. To me, the fact that he has this passion and initiative at such a young age is breathtaking.

He has already proven that he is not one who will wait for life to come to him…he will go out and grab it with both hands.

I love that.

We Browns are a writing family. My husband won every writing award his college had to offer. I wrote a Bible study and write on this blog. Josh is also a blogger in addition to publishing his book and Julia has had an article published in the teen section of the New York Times.

Henri Matisse has said, “Creativity takes courage.”

It does take immense courage to put your work out there because in a sense, you are sharing a piece of your heart with the world. And the world is free to accept or reject it.

But even if you face rejection (and all creative types do), you have not let that stop you from sharing your God-given gift.

We are all made to create, whether it is with a pen, a paintbrush,  a camera, or an instrument.

We all have something to say.

Don’t let fear stop you from sharing your art with the world.

Start that blog. Paint that picture. Write that book. Pick up your camera. Compose that song.

“If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up people to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea.”—Antoine De Saint Exupery.

What will your art make others long for?

You have the ability to inspire others.

A new year is fast approaching.

Will this be the year that you give free reign to the artist who lives inside you?

I experienced a scary episode last Thursday.

During the early afternoon, I started to feel lightheaded and slightly dizzy. The feeling persisted so I decided to lie down for awhile. Later, I made dinner and went to Bible study but by the time I got home, I really felt “off.”

As I got ready for bed, I happened to glance at my pill box on the bathroom counter. There, inside the “Thursday” box were my blood pressure pills.  (I was diagnosed with high blood pressure in January 2012 and wrote about that unnerving episode here). I had forgotten to take them that morning…and now I was feeling the frightening effects.

A memory immediately came to my mind of a time when my dad went to a new doctor.This doctor did not think the high blood pressure medication my dad was on was the correct one and prescribed a new one. He told my dad to stop taking that one for a few days until it was out of his system, then begin the new medication. My dad listened to this doctor and we were all horrified to learn later (when my dad got a new doctor)  that doing such a thing can kill you!

“Never stop your blood pressure medication cold turkey!” He told my dad in a stern tone. “Never.”

Yikes.

I immediately took the pills and went to bed. It took me a long time to get to sleep. Not only was my body acting slightly haywire, I could not turn my mind off.

Most days, it is easy to forget that there is anything at all wrong with me. I look fine. I feel fine. I have plenty of energy and can go anywhere I want to. Life goes on as it always has and I feel healthy.

It’s easy for me to forget that I have a very serious condition that can be life-threatening.

Once again (will I ever truly learn?) I realize how much I take my one precious life for granted. I always assume that tomorrow will come for me. But I am given no such promise.

What if today had been my last day? I asked myself. Would I have said the things I needed to say? Done the things I needed to do? Used my time wisely? Would I have loved well? Would I have paid attention?

Would I have lived the life out of that day?

The next morning, I opened my eyes and  the first thing I saw was my camera.

The idea came to me of documenting my day. I wasn’t planning on doing anything special that day, but that wasn’t the point.

Sometimes ordinary can be beautiful in all its wondrous simplicity.

I carried my camera everywhere with me that day and noticed everything. Each time I clicked the shutter, I whispered a prayer of thanks to my very good God who had gifted me with another day to live with Him and my loved ones in this lovely place I call home.

I paid attention. I marveled. I smiled…a lot. I laughed. My heart sang and joy filled my soul.

At the end of the day, when I loaded the images into my computer, I realized that the photographs I had captured were most likely not the same ones anyone else would have taken, even if they had walked through the day with me.

Because we are all unique.

I am the only one who sees the world through my eyes.

No one like me has ever walked the face of this earth and no one like me will ever be again.

The same is true of you. Take a moment to think about that for a minute.

We are all fearfully and wonderfully made. Each of us was created in the mind of God, the magnificent Artist. You…and me…are His masterpiece! From the color of your eyes and hair to your height and talents and passions, there will never be another you!

You are not one of the faceless billions walking this planet. You are known to Him.

By His design, you are alive on planet earth at this time in history.

Make your mark. Let your voice be heard. Share your dreams. Live your passion. No excuses. No regrets.

Do not let the music that is in you remain un-played and unheard.

Today is the day and the time is now.

Let the world around you know that you are here.

******************************

Here are the glimpses of my day...

I loved the way the sunlight made my mom’s crystal bowl glitter.

These two jolly snowmen now reside on the windowsill of our sunroom…a whimsical preview of the holiday season to come.

I had a few minutes to read one of the most amazing books I have read in a long time. The characters are so richly drawn that I thought about them even when I was away from the book.  Reading it was like riding a rollercoaster in the dark. Just when I thought the writer was taking the plot in a certain direction, there would be a breathtaking drop,followed by an unexpected turn that evoked both laughter and tears. I loved it.

(I finished the book a few days later and  I still miss the characters. I will think about them for a long time to come).

This was my view from the sun room while I read. Joy lives here. 🙂

I listened to Jesus’ voice as I spent time in His Word: Hebrews 11, the Faith Hall of Fame. One of the most powerful Bible studies I have ever done is Beth Moore’s Believing God. There are only 40 verses in Hebrews 11. I will never forget Beth saying that our lives can be Hebrews 11: 41: “By faith, Susan….” Insert your name there. What does your faith say about you today? When all is said and and done, what legacy of faith are you leaving for future generations?

My amazing (and Coke-loving) husband planning our date for the day. 🙂
Catching my mom on her way out the door.

All this green will soon be covered in white.

Our dog Buddy is the most neurotic, silly, and entitled pooch ever. And I love him dearly.

The mail brought a thank you note from a dear friend. Getting snail mail in this age of electronic communication is a special joy. I especially loved her closing reminder.

On this day, at that time, my love and I headed out to enjoy the day together.
One of the things I loved most about living in our area is that one turn around a bend can boast the most amazing views of the mountains and the lakes.  I am surrounded by the beauty of His creation.

As we drove by,  I snapped a quick picture of this house that has always fascinated me since we moved here. Two completely separate homes connected by an enclosed hallway. Is the building on the right the most fabulous of in-law quarters?  Was it built for an adult child of the owners and his or her family? A War-of-the-Roses marriage relationship that required two separate living spaces? Questions abound! I am desperate to see the inside! 

My husband and I went to see a matinee. I thought back to our first date twenty-three years ago. We went to a picnic and I was thrilled when Doug asked if I wanted to catch a movie that night. He mentioned that he wanted to see “The Hunt For Red October.” I had seen it the week before (not my kind of movie, had no desire to see it again) but I responded with much enthusiasm, “I would love to!”

We sat in that theater and held hands for the first time. I could have cared less what was playing on the screen. I was just happy to be with him.

I still feel the same way.

I love movie theater popcorn in all its salty goodness. Yum.

Speaking of yum, after the movie, we went to our favorite Mexican restaurant for dinner. The lighting was awful but I was able to get a shot of the sizzling fajitas. I could eat Mexican food every day.

The full moon was beginning to rise high in the sky as we headed home.
We were blessed to see one final glimpse of beautiful light before night fell on another day.

My name is Susan.

And I was here.

The flashing blue and white lights exploded in my rear view mirror, cutting through the dark Friday night in a most unwelcome way.

I eased over to the side of the road,  turned off the happy Jeremy Camp version of “Jingle Bell Rock” that I had been singing, and sighed.

After thirty two years of speeding across roads in several states, I had finally been busted.

I turned on the overhead light so the cop could see that it was just me alone in the car. I pulled my license from my wallet and just as I was fumbling for my registration card, he came up to the driver’s side, positioning himself just behind me.

“Good evening, Ma’am,” His voice was pleasant. ” Did you know that I clocked you going 59 in a 40 mph zone?”

He was  young…young enough to be my son.

I smiled slightly, apologetically. “I wasn’t aware that I was going that fast, no.” (I was actually surprised to discover I wasn’t going faster).

I was still trying to find my registration card, which was difficult because it looked just like my insurance card.

“That’s the one you are looking for, ” he said kindly, helpfully.

I handed him my license and registration and he told me he would be right back.

My friend Jackie texted me at that moment, asking how my night was going.

“Pulled over on the side of the highway by a cop. Busted for speeding.” I texted back. I did not text the fact that I was on my way to a Bible study for teen girls that my friend Wendy and I lead every other Friday night.

The irony of that was not lost on me.

“WHAT?!” Came the swift reply. “I hope you don’t get a ticket.”

He came back to my car and handed me my license and registration with a smile. “I’m just going to give you a warning this time, Ma’am. But please watch your speed from now on.”

He pulled back, ready to walk away, but my voice stopped him.

“I just wanted to thank you for all that you do, ” I said. “I appreciate it.”

His eyes widened in total surprise.

I lowered my eyes from his for a moment to watch the other cars driving (very carefully and slowly) past me before continuing.

“I had a cousin who was a cop.”

“What’s his name?”

“His name was David. He was a cop in Pennsylvania. He was killed two years ago when he made a traffic stop on the highway.” I looked back up at him. “So please be careful out there, okay?”

This whole thing was surreal. I hadn’t planned on saying any of this.

He seemed genuinely shocked. I imagine most cops are not thanked for what they do when they pull someone over for speeding. But I needed him to know that I appreciated the fact that he had chosen to live his one life in order to serve and protect.

He nodded. “I will.” A small pause. Then,” My condolences on the death of your cousin. Take care.”

“Thanks. And I will slow down from now on.”

“Please do.” Another smile and then he got into his car and disappeared into the night.

I put my license and registration back where they belonged and texted Jackie one word: “Warning!” before putting my car back into gear and easing back onto the highway.

It was then that I realized that tears had filled my eyes.

It is coming up on two years that my cousin David’s life was taken by a madman with a gun on a dark Pennsylvania highway.  I still miss him, still think about him often.

Cops had always intimidated me before David’s funeral. Then I met so many of them in a sea of blue in the funeral home.

During the course of the visiting hours,  I had the opportunity to talk with many of them. I listened gratefully to their memories of David and watched helplessly as these grown men in crisp uniforms cried like babies over the loss of one of their own.

Ever since then, I pray without fail for the cops I know personally and for every one of them I see on the road.

Just like I prayed for that young officer’s safety for the rest of the night.

 

My husband and I are not pack rats.

Since we have moved eleven times in twenty one years of marriage, we have learned to travel light. It is easy not to collect too much stuff when you have to move it every couple of years. With each move, we got progressively more ruthless with what we took with us and what we gave away. By the time we arrived at our current home, we didn’t have a lot of extra stuff.

We have been in this home for six years. That is the longest we have lived anywhere since we have been married.

Recently, a tax assessor came by the house and I had to show her all around, top to bottom. All was well until we came to the basement. I looked around in shock.

Where did all this stuff come from????

I was appalled.

When my husband got home that day, I took him down to the basement and we both agreed that it was time to purge.

And purge we did. Three trips to the Salvation Army Thrift Store and our basement was much emptier.

But my heart was so much fuller.

You see, in the several bins I went through, there were cards, letters, pictures, old journals. As I stood in that dusty basement with gray walls, my past came alive in gloriously beautiful technicolor.

Names I hadn’t heard in years were scrawled across notes and letters, a testimony to once-close relationships that either time, distance, or death had taken away.

Photographs revealed happy days gone by: big, silly, or sweet smiles at various celebrations caused my mind to flood with memories of happy times: birthdays, adoptions, wedding receptions, housewarmings, baby showers, family reunions, graduations.

My journals from my early days of walking with Jesus revealed many joys as well as  my fears about hard times gone by…and the complete and utter faithfulness of my Savior to lead and guide me.

All these little moments make up a life and make one rich in all the ways that really matter.

Sometimes when life gets hard and mysterious, it is easy to forget how much beauty a life can hold, how many blessings one truly does have. My life may not have always been rich in financial ways, but it has been extremely rich in relationships.

I needed that reminder and God gave it to me this weekend.

It seems appropriate  that it happened in November, the month of Thanksgiving.

How about you? Could you spend some time this month being intentional about remembering how God has blessed your life in amazing and beautiful ways?

Open a photo album. Read old love letters. Pull out a yearbook. Choose to remember the good from the past.

Then look to your present and open your eyes to the many blessings you have right now, in this very moment.

They are there.

“God gave us memories, that we might have roses in December.”—J. M. Barrie

First, let me state for the record that I love to be outside.

I just don’t like running into things that live outside.

My family and friends have long been used to this.  Like the time when I walked into the fruit section of Whole Foods pushing a cart with the kids in tow, saw a lizard on my cart, screamed at the top of my lungs and sent the cart crashing into the apple display. (My kids were absolutely mortified and management seemed to keep a close eye on me as I shopped).

Or the time I was walking along a wooded trail with my friend Denise and a snake dropped out of a tree and landed right in front of me, slithering every which way. I screamed loud enough to wake the dead and scared Denise half to death.

Or the time my friend Jackie and I were walking through my neighborhood and a big dog came running full force at us. I promptly screamed, grabbed Jackie, and threw her in front of me. Not my finest moment, clearly.

Or the time I was visiting the zoo and a bird emptied the contents of its bowels all over my head.

Fun times.

This past Saturday morning, Denise and I were walking through a quiet wooded neighborhood in our little town. I was blathering on about something when all of a sudden, Denise stopped short, put her hand on my arm and whispered, “Don’t move!!!”

I followed her gaze…and saw a huge black bear crashing through the trees. It must have been three to four hundred pounds of solid muscle. And it was only about 300 yards away.

I. was. terrified.

I remembered my neighbor telling me in a very matter-of-fact manner what to do if confronted by a bear. (As he has been while walking in our neighborhood).

“NEVER run,” he cautioned soberly. “They will only chase you…and you can’t outrun them. Instead, you have to stand right in front of it, wave your arms around, and shout as  loud as you can. This will make them back off.”

Yeah, right.

My first instinct was to cry. Then to run away as fast as I could. Panicked, I looked to my right at the nearest house. There was an inviting screened  porch on the side. For a wild moment, I envisioned the outline of my body visible after I crashed into it, just like in the old cartoons. Maybe I could make a run for it!

Fortunately, Denise was there to maintain calm and sanity and I remained still.

We watched wide-eyed as the bear seemed to glance at us and then kept on running across the street, disappearing deep into someone’s yard.

The whole thing lasted only seconds but it was as if time stopped.

I stood rooted to the spot, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. The closest I had ever come to a black bear was watching one saunter casually across our back yard one summer morning from the safety of our kitchen window.

In that moment when we shared the road with that bear, I never felt so small and helpless. It was sobering.

“This isn’t good for my high blood pressure!” I said, holding my hand against my chest as we resumed our walk.

Despite our earlier fear, we began to giggle.

Eventually, heart rates returned to normal and we resumed our pace. At one point, I was telling Denise about a scary moment in my life (that once again involved critters). I turned to look at her and to my horror, saw something black quickly approaching us over her left shoulder.

I screamed.

Denise screamed.

We both turned…to see a young jogger dressed in a black running suit.

I thought the black bear had followed us.

We scared the daylights out of this poor girl

She apologized.

We apologized.

She turned and ran the other way.

I felt like an idiot.

As we (finally!) finished our walk, Denise pointed to a tiny chipmunk on the side of the road.

“Look!” she said. “The wildlife is getting smaller!”

🙂

I just may have to look into renewing my gym membership.

Yesterday afternoon, I watched the finale for the show The Office.

My family and I have watched that show from the beginning and quickly grew to love the characters.  The cast was superbly talented and the writing was absolutely brilliant.

The finale was perfection. Every loose end was tied up. There was abundant laughter, poignant moments, and definitely tears. (Including my own).

Near the end of the episode, there was one line spoken by Ed Helms (who played the hapless Andy Bernard) that really pierced my heart.

“I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.”

That line was spoken by a fictional character who had realized too late that the unappreciated days gone by had actually been a wonderful and glorious gift.

Yet, how many of us can relate? I certainly can.

I am currently reading a book entitled Until I Say Goodbye: My Year Of Living With Joy by Susan Spencer-Wendel. The author has ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease) and rather than wallow in self-pity and wait to die, she decided to fully live whatever life she has left.

As I read her story, particularly the honest accounts of living in a body that no longer works, I am reminded anew of the simple beauty of ordinary days.

Stop what you are doing and look around you.

The good old days are now.

You might say, “But my life isn’t perfect. I have too many problems.”

Welcome to life on planet Earth. Life here will never be perfect. The truth is that when we tend to reminisce about “the good old days”, we conveniently forget that things were not perfect. We only remember the good.

Yes, there are heartaches. Trials. Annoyances. Irritations. Setbacks. Disappointments.

But there is also beauty. Laughter. Music. Color. Sunsets. Oceans. Forests. Birds singing. Birthdays. Lovemaking. Flowers. Pets. Spring rains.

Love.

So today choose to focus on the good in your life. Look for the blessings. Let loose and laugh. Search for joy in unexpected places.

Stop waiting for  things to be perfect to begin enjoying your life. It will never happen.

You are living the good old days.

Don’t let them pass you by.

This morning at church, our congregation sang “My Country Tis Of Thee.”

The last stanza caused my eyes to well up with tears:

…Long may our land be bright
With freedom’s holy light
Protect us by Thy might
Great God our King!

The light of freedom is dimming in this country.

And that breaks my heart, as I think of those (some in my own family) who have given their lives and sacrificed much for this magnificent country.

We have an administration who rose to power by cynically proclaiming “Hope and Change.” In reality, their policies have brought nothing but despair and increasing tyranny. As they outright ignore and therefore totally trash our precious Constitution, the masses seem to sleep as our blood-bought liberties are slowly but surely and methodically eroded.

Statism, which our current president holds so near and dear to his heart, has proven time and again over the course of history to be a miserable, soul-crushing failure. Yet its cold, godless tentacles are reaching further and further into every aspect of life in our nation.

In recent weeks, we have seen the gross abuses of the ruthless bureaucrats at the IRS come to light. We have witnessed their supreme arrogance as they come before Congress, blithely claiming that they have done nothing wrong—while thousands of lives are now pointlessly shipwrecked because they dared to espouse conservative values.

Next year, this very same loathsome agency will be in charge of making life and death decisions for the health care of every American.

Chilling, isn’t it?

Last September, four Americans were brutally slaughtered in Libya. Some  as-yet-unnamed shadowy figure gave the order to “stand down.” With that despicable and cowardly order, these four brave citizens were deserted by their country in their time of greatest need and  cut down in the prime of their lives by Islamic terrorists.

(I realize the current political climate declines to call a spade a spade and seems to believe that refusing to acknowledge something will make it go away. I, however, refuse to yield to such juvenile and pathetic absurdity. Islamic terrorists really do exist. They hate America and all that it stands for and are committed to replacing freedom with tyranny by any means necessary. Their goal is nothing short of world domination. And a politically correct climate that refuses to acknowledge the existence of sheer evil is making such a goal much easier. Haven’t you heard? There is no such thing as a ‘war on terror’!).

When grilled about this brutal and senseless carnage, our own Secretary of State yelled into a microphone, “What difference does it make now?”

When I first heard those words, I was so shocked I could not even speak. And then I wept.

This has what our country has become?

The warriors who valiantly serve this country are heroes, pure and simple. They deserve to know that their country is fully behind them when they are in harm’s way.

In my small town, there is a ceremony of remembrance every single Thursday evening. Each week, rain or shine, sleet or snow, a group of veterans gather on the town green beneath the flag to hold a vigil for those missing in action in the Vietnam war. That war ended nearly forty years ago; yet these patriots gather each week to remember their great sacrifice.

Because those people mattered.

The patriots in this country who are willing to take a stand against clear encroaching tyranny and suppression do not deserve to be intimidated by un-elected bureaucrats at the IRS who are intoxicated with the power a behemoth government machine grants them.

This America is NOT what our forefathers fought so hard for.

This America is NOT the country that was founded on the Word of God.

When a country legislates our Creator out of the public square, He grants their request.

Today, we see the dire consequences of this. And it is enough to break a heart.

However, God is not mocked.

His throne has not moved.

He reigns supreme over all.

Statism does NOT win. It is an ultimately utterly and completely futile endeavor, to say nothing of the fact that it is evil to the core.

Those in power are there by God’s decree, whether they acknowledge Him or not. (Romans 13).

The state seeks to enslave and control the very souls who God designed to live free.

No man can chain the soul, regardless of the (temporary) power he has been permitted to have by his Creator.

The savior of this world is NOT big government. There is One Savior, One Hope, One Bondage-Breaker.

Darkness will never overcome the Light Of The World, whose Name is Jesus Christ. There is coming a day when every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that He is Lord to the glory of God. (Philippians 2:10-11).

This Memorial Day, I will pray for this country. I will personally thank as many veterans as I can. I will salute the flag. I will sing our National Anthem with tears in my eyes and a heart filled with gratitude.

I will remember the great ones who have gone before us, who have given so much so that we can all know the sweet taste of freedom.

And as long as I have breath, I will speak out against tyranny and stand for freedom.

“Silence in the face of evil is itself evil: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.”—Bonhoeffer

My husband and I sat across from each other at a new cafe in a nearby town.

He looked tired and stressed. The usual merry twinkle in his eyes was absent, replaced by the utter weariness that can result from a lengthy wait. We have been in an infuriating holding pattern in recent months, the result of incompetence and seemingly endless miles of red tape.

As I listened to him share how he was feeling, my heart was extremely unsettled.

My husband is a rock. I am the emotional one and he has spent a considerable amount of time over our twenty-one years of marriage reeling me back in, speaking calm words of reassurance and always making me smile or laugh out loud.

Yet he is human, just like me. He is subject to the same frailties, fears, doubts, and insecurities we all share. I dare not place unrealistic expectations on his broad shoulders, looking to him to be to me what only Jesus can be.

But sometimes I do.

We finished lunch and strolled hand-in-hand through an art gallery.

The afternoon sky became grayer and cloudier and his cell phone remained stubbornly silent. I felt a heaviness settle on my heart.

I wanted to FIX this.

I wanted to burst into this person’s office, demand that he do his job and give us what we want already.

But more than that, I got brutally honest with Jesus. “You could fix this,” I reasoned with Him. “Haven’t we waited long enough? What you You doing? For the life of me, I cannot figure it out. This all seems so pointless! Can today just be the end of this, please? Do we really have to wait another day????”

One of my most cherished books is Jesus + Nothing = Everything.  The author (and my pastor from when we lived in Florida) writes about the glorious fact that everything we need, we already have in Jesus as a result of the eternal and abundant life He purchased for us on the cross. I love this book. I practically have it memorized, I have read it so many times. Page after page is highlighted, underlined, starred. I give copies away as gifts. I love the message. I know it is true.

But this afternoon, in a moment of both ruthless honesty and exhaustion,  I wanted my own way more than I wanted Him.

Wow.

That looks really ugly in black and white.

But you know what? That is what faith looks like. It is often a messy, difficult process. A wrestling match of the heart as we seek to deliberately place the truth of God’s Word over our tumultuous, often unreasonable feelings. Or yield to His (perfect) way as opposed to demanding our own (short-sighted, selfish) way.

Jesus did answer my prayer this afternoon.

He said no.

The phone call we had been hoping for did not come. The waiting would continue.

I took a shower. Cried a little. Felt sorry for myself.

But then, I grabbed my Bible and went to my knees.

It always goes back to this…to Him, the One I love the most with all my imperfect, fallible, and fragile heart.

He sees all the ugly that no one else ever sees. Yet He loves me unconditionally, wholly, completely. Nothing I say or do surprises Him. After all, He called me to His side when I was still His enemy, still hopelessly lost in my sin.

He calls me His bride. He tells me that He delights in me and rejoices over me with song. He offers to give me beauty for ashes if I will only trust Him. He redeems and He restores. And He is always about the business of melting my heart of stone and transforming it into a strong and soft and loving heart like His own.

Even when I act like a spoiled brat and look to the creation to give me what only He can, He welcomes me with open arms.

I read His Word, allowing it to penetrate to the depths.

My heart is quieted, soothed by His love letter.

The darkness of self-absorption is gradually replaced by His healing light.

The peace that I had forfeited by my stubbornness once again settled like a blanket over my troubled heart.

Fear gives way to renewed hope in His goodness, whatever comes.

Pride is replaced by humility, as I am once again reminded that I am but dust.

A fretful, complaining spirit gradually disappears I focus on gratitude.

A closed fist, clenched in defiance earlier today, is relaxed into an open hand.

My will is once again aligned with His.

I  make the decision to trust His timing and purposes.

I ask for (and receive) His sweet and freeing forgiveness.

I can fix nothing and no one. I can’t even fix myself. Jesus is the only One who can fill that job description.

I am the clay who will (again) make the choice to yield to the Potter’s loving hands.

And when I do that—when you do that–bondage gives way to freedom.

Every time.