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When He has brought out all His own, He goes on ahead of them.—(John 10:4).

A new year is always exciting.

There is something about opening a brand new calendar and seeing all those little blank squares that always give me a such a sense of anticipation about all the opportunities and new adventures that lie ahead.

Yet, this excitement is inevitably accompanied by the icy whisper of fear, as I remember past years when what began with happy expectancy morphed into heartbreak as the days unfolded.

The above verse speaks directly to every such fear.

Jesus is not limited to time. He exists outside of time. Time is His creation. He sees the end from the beginning. He knew all things before He even created the world.

For it was in Him that all things were created, in heaven and on earth, things seen and things unseen…all things were created and exist through Him…And He Himself existed before all things and in Him all things are held together. ..all the divine fullness (the sum total of the divine perfection, powers, and attributes) dwell in Him permanently. (Colossians 1:16,17, 19).

One of my favorite devotionals is Streams In the Desert by L.B. Cowman. Today’s entry was very reassuring if the beginning of this new year finds you full of fear and trepidation about what is to come:

“Take heart!…Whatever awaits us is encountered first by Him, and the eye of faith can always discern His majestic presence out in front….Comfort your heart with the fact that the Savior has Himself experienced all the trials He asks you to endure; He would not ask you to pass through them unless He was sure the paths were not too difficult or strenuous for you. This is the blessed life…quietly following the Shepherd, one step at a time.

Dangers are near and fears my mind are shaking;
Heart seems to dread what life may hold in store;
But I am His—He knows the way I’m taking,
More blessed even still—HE GOES BEFORE!

Doubts cast their weird, unwelcome shadows o’er me,
Doubts that life’s best—life’s choicest things are o’er;
What but His Word can strengthen, can restore me,
And this blest fact; that still HE GOES BEFORE.

HE GOES BEFORE! Be this my consolation!
He goes before! On this my heart would dwell!
He goes before! This guarantees salvation!
HE GOES BEFORE! And therefore all is well.

The (ancient) shepherd always walked ahead of his sheep. He was always out in front. Any attack upon the sheep had to take him into account first. Now God is out in front. He is in our tomorrows and it is tomorrow that fills people with fear. Yet God is already there.  All the tomorrows of our life have to pass through Him before they can get to us.

God is in every tomorrow,
Therefore I live for today,
Certain of finding at sunrise,
Guidance and strength for my way;
Power for each moment of weakness,
Hope for each moment of pain,
Comfort for every sorrow,
Sunshine and joy after rain. —F. B. Meyer

So if today finds you full of fears about what 2013 holds…please take comfort in knowing that Jesus holds the days ahead…and YOU…in His strong, powerful, and loving hands.

If you belong to Him, you are safe ALL of your days.

Never forget that He goes before you. Your unknown tomorrows are known by Him.

Take one day, one step at a time.

There is nothing to fear.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” I asked one of my daughter’s friends, who had arrived for the sleepover.

“Yes! It was great!” She said brightly, as I took her coat. The answer was an instant one.

It is the answer that everyone expects to hear, after all.

I hung up her coat and when I turned around, I was surprised to see that her expression had grown serious. Her eyes met mine briefly.

“Actually, I don’t know why I said that,”  Her voice was quiet, especially in light of the riotous laughter coming from the other girls in the kitchen. “The real answer to your question is no. It wasn’t all that great.”

At that moment, my daughter saw that her friend had arrived. Happy greetings were exchanged and the sleepover officially began. As the girls stampeded up the stairs, I thought about the mandatory happiness our culture insists that we must have during the holiday season.

Except that sometimes life isn’t all that happy.

In the past, I have had wonderful, magical Christmases when laughter has been abundant and one joyful moment followed another.

This year, Christmas was not like that at all.

There were hurt feelings (mine); illness (the entire family was at one stage or another of the terrible cold that has been going around); disappointment that certain family members couldn’t be with us; and a kitchen filled with smoke as the lovely sound of the fire alarm that is loud enough to raise the dead rang throughout the house. (I may have mentioned a time or two on this blog that cooking is NOT my thing!).

We received the unwelcome and frightening news  that the mother of our son’s girlfriend had suffered a heart attack on Christmas Eve and had to be taken by ambulance to a hospital an hour away. (Fortunately, she is home now and a full recovery is expected). One of my dearest friends was dealing with a sick child who had to be hospitalized. Another sweet friend was still reeling from the news that her husband has cancer and this next year will be filled with hellish,  aggressive treatments in an attempt to save his life. My heart ached as I thought of all the parents in Newtown, CT who greeted Christmas Day without their children. The country is on the verge of financial disaster as it looks like we may go over the fiscal cliff and there are ominous rumblings that a tsunami of new government regulations is on its way.

So much pain, fear and uncertainty.

This Christmas, more than any other, I was reminded that we live in a fallen and broken world.

Happiness was not abundant this Christmas for me.

Yet…my joy was abundant.

You see, happiness is dependent on happy circumstances. Happiness is extremely tenuous, fragile as the morning mist. It can be snatched away by bad news, or a word spoken in anger, or a crushing disappointment, or a devastating diagnosis.

But JOY…true joy… is absolutely indestructible and blazes like a forest fire even when the pain of this world sears our fragile hearts.

Joy is a Person…the very Person whose birth we celebrate every Christmas Day.

Jesus is the personification of joy. The very source of joy.  A never-ended fountain of joy.

Since Jesus never changes, His joy never dims.

The joy Jesus offers us is the very joy that He possesses and always has known. It has nothing whatsoever to do with our circumstances because His joy is not of this world.  He delights to gift us with His heavenly joy  even now, as we live on the topsoil of earth.

His joy shining in us even when life hurts is the very thing that alerts a dark and dying world that there is Hope and Light and Peace…because Jesus, who is the Source of all those wondrous things…is ALIVE.

I hope you had a wonderful, magical Christmas this year.

But if you didn’t, that’s okay too.  I hope that  His joy—which always whispers to us that the best is yet to come and this world isn’t all there is— made your heart full in the midst of it all.

“I have told you these things that My joy and delight may be in you, and that your joy and gladness may be of full measure and complete and overflowing.”—Jesus (John 15:11). 

Last night I happened to see a wonderful Christmas movie on the Lifetime channel called “A Christmas Angel.”

I am not one to normally watch movies on Lifetime but I was pulled into the holiday theme and was utterly charmed by the story of an unlikely friendship between a young woman who grew up in the foster care system and her kind, fatherly neighbor.

When the young woman loses her job, her neighbor offers her a job as his personal assistant. Since they live in a very modest apartment building, she cannot imagine why he would require an  assistant, but she accepts.

On her first day of work, she is instructed to go from place to place, ask for a certain name, letting the person know that “Nick sent me.” She was then given a folder, which she dutifully added to her ever-growing satchel. By the time she returned to her neighbor’s apartment, she was extremely curious about what all those folders contained.

That is when he shared his secret: he was an outrageously wealthy retired businessman. At one time he had it “all” before his marriage disintegrated and his estranged wife later died. That is when he realized that money can’t buy happiness so he decided to spend the rest of his life giving it away.

The folders contained information on people who needed his help, which he then provided anonymously.

He spent his life giving away what he didn’t need, which was practically everything.

His neighbor was floored by all this new information.

“Why do you live here if you have all that money?” she asked, motioning to the unimpressive, rather small and sparsely furnished apartment.

He simply smiled, shrugged and said, “A roof is a roof. Doesn’t matter how big it is. It keeps me dry. I have heat. Don’t really need any more than that. ”

So began an entirely new adventure for the young woman, as her neighbor taught her how to look at the world in an entirely different way.

At one point, he took her to a park. They sat together on a bench and he asked her to look around at the various people milling about.

“What needs do you see?” he asked.

She saw several.

“Now go meet them,” he invited.

She accepted his offer…and so began a new way of looking at the world through wondrously new eyes.

Throughout the next few weeks, she learned  that while  she could not meet every need,  she could do something.  It didn’t always have to involve money or enormous amounts of time. Some simply needed a hug, a listening ear, an opportunity.

As she let the world in, her previously hard heart melted, expanded, and swelled with love.

After her neighbor unexpectedly succumbed to cancer, she was the sole beneficiary of his estate. In a letter, he encouraged her to carry on  his work and hoped she would use the money to bless others.

What a wonderful legacy!

I loved the message of this movie:

1) We need a lot less than we think we do.

2) Joy is multiplied by giving, not getting.

3) The blessed life is one that is others-focused rather than self-centered.

4) We can leave a legacy of giving if we choose to.

5) Money doesn’t equal happiness and peace.

6) We can all give something to those in our sphere of influence.

The season of giving is upon us.

Rather than focus on all that we want to get, let’s look for all the ways we can give.

I guarantee you a Christmas season full of sheer JOY if you accept that challenge!

Are you game?

Last night, I happened to see a reality show about a New York City woman who was planning her wedding.

Her mother had been saving for many years for her daughter’s wedding and was determined to spare no expense to make the day a fairy tale.

What followed truly boggled my mind:

*She, her daughter, and the daughter’s finacee flew to Italy for the sole purpose of picking out the glasses that the bride and the groom would use for their first toast.

*The bride happened to see an outlandish wedding dress in a runway show and knew that was the perfect dress for her big day. The bridal shop had it in stock and she loved it. When she asked the price, the saleswoman told her, “It’s ONLY $34,000!”

The giggling bride tells the camera, “Well, my mom said she was willing to spend $100,000, so I guess this is a bargain!”

*The bride insisted that she have special eyelashes for the big day.

The false eyelashes were made of mink and dotted with real diamonds.

*The bride’s trademark look was pink lipstick and she wanted to pick a special shade for her big day. She, her mother, and one of her bridesmaids looked at every single shade in a makeup superstore, yet nothing was deemed perfect. Could a custom shade be made? Why, of course it could…for a price. Various shades of pink were mixed until the “perfect” shade was attained and the bride and her mom were happy.

*The carpet at the reception venue was not acceptable to the mother…so she had it replaced! (This was an enormous room).

For one night.

How many guests do you think even noticed the carpet?

*Orchids were the bride’s favorite flower. Just one costs $25. However, she had to have thousands of orchids at her wedding. You do the math on that one.

*The excitement was high the day the custom made toasting glasses were delivered from Italy. Alas, they did not match perfectly…so they would not be used at the reception. When the bride told her groom that her mother had vetoed the glasses and they would have to find something new, he dryly commented, “I’m sure the guests will say, ‘Wow, that was such a beautiful wedding…until we saw those hideous toasting glasses! That ruined everything!”

Sadly, the sarcasm was completely lost on the bride, who was already wondering where in the world she would possibly find new toasting glasses at this late hour!

Oh the humanity!

*Speaking of the groom, everything he wanted for the wedding was vetoed by his future mother-in-law. When told that he was upset, this woman simply shrugged her shoulders. She could have cared less. He was simply a means to an end to allow her baby girl to have her dream wedding day.

After all this meticulous planning, the wedding went off without a hitch. The bride’s mother never told her how much she spent on the wedding but it must have been easily in the seven figures.

I found this entire show repulsive and it made me angry. It also made me sad.

It was repulsive because I have rarely seen such extreme. non-apologetic, and nauseating self-indulgence.

I know that people have a right to use their money any way they like. I get that.

However, there is just so much need!

*At least of humanity lives on less than $10 a day.

*For the 1.9 billion children in the developing world, there are 640 million without adequate shelter ( 1 in 3); 400 million with no access to safe water (1 in 5);  270 million with no access to health services ( 1 in 7).

* 2.6 billion people lack basic sanitation

It made me angry because with all the needless waste that was spent on that  one day, so many could have been helped. There are so many who are trying to make a difference who could use money to fund their amazing work:

Katie  in Uganda

Gwen in America

Megan in Haiti

Steven and Mary Beth Chapman in China

Franklin Graham with Samaritan’s Purse

Compassion International

Christine at A21

And it made me sad because these people are so in love with the trinkets of this world that are passing away. I do have compassion for them.

“I have seen everything that is done under the sun and behold, all is vanity and a striving after the wind.”—Ecclesiastes 1:14

No amount of money can buy peace with God.

Behind all the glitz of this world lies a  hollow emptiness that can never be filled.

The truth is that EVERYTHING (including our money) belongs to God and we will all give an account to Him as to how we use His resources during our time on this earth. (Matthew 25:14-30).

He has dealt with me on this issue big time and much of that has been very painful. However, it has been worth every tear and every struggle as my heart has been pried away from the  temporary treasures of this world and redirected toward the true treasures of eternity.

My first thought is no longer, “What can I get?” but “What can I give?”  

God has blessed us so we can bless others.

I have learned that the more you give, the greater your joy. Not just a little joy either…I am talking huge, overflowing, abundant JOY.

Be a good steward. Resist the urge toward self-indulgence all the time (no, I am NOT saying that it is wrong to enjoy nice things. Just keep it all in perspective). Open your eyes to see the need all around you.

And give generously.

Our God loves cheerful givers!

I am not meant to go on a mission trip.

Yesterday made that perfectly clear.

My husband and I are in Rhode Island this weekend for a wedding. I have known the groom since he was nine years old. He is the son of one of my very dearest friends, Ida Mae. (I wrote about our friendship here). He is marrying his high school sweetheart, who a beautiful young lady.   I love weddings and have been looking forward to this for a long time.

Doug and I lived in Rhode Island for five years. Both our children were born here and it is a beautiful state. We had plans to visit familiar places and enjoy some time away together.

Our trip began with so much promise.

We stayed at a new hotel, which was a converted mill. All the rooms were lofts. There were polished concrete floors, concrete walls and exposed pipes. It was all very industrial, yet somehow still warm and welcoming.

We awoke very early on Saturday morning and had a marvelous day that began with a trip to  The Breakfast Nook, a little hole-in-the-wall type of place that offers delicious food. When Josh and Julia were little, Doug took them there every Saturday morning, which gave me some much-needed quiet and the welcome opportunity to sleep in. To this day, the three of them have sweet memories of that place.

We then visited the beach town of Narragansett, the charming and artsy waterfront town of Wickford, and tony Newport.

We had lunch at the famous Newport Creamery, home of the “Awful Awful” milkshake (meaning “awful big and awful good). And they are!

After a full day of sightseeing and taking many trips down memory lane, we were starving and headed to one of our favorite Italian restaurants for dinner before checking into our new hotel, which was much closer to the wedding location.

(Check in time was 3:00 and at that point it was 6:30. I had an uneasy feeling that we should have called to let them know we would be checking in later than usual, but we felt that a quick call to them after dinner would suffice).

The delicious aromas that greeted us when we entered the restaurant made our mouths water.

If only the delicious aromas meant a delicious meal.

The food was tasteless. No amount of salt could salvage it.

We choked down what we could and finally gave up, paid our bill and headed for our next hotel, which advertised itself as a charming New England inn near the ocean. The website boasted enchanting photos of delightful guest rooms, each with expansive views. Before leaving the restaurant parking lot, Doug called to make sure they were holding our reservations. He was assured that they were anxiously awaiting our arrival.

As we drove the twenty minutes south, our busy day of sightseeing in the sun began to take its toll. We were really looking forward to getting settled and possibly visiting with Ida Mae and her husband, who were at the inn for their son’s rehearsal dinner.

We pulled into the parking lot and were cheered by the sight of a rambling white building with blue shutters. Mature trees dotted the lawn and the parking lot was full. Lights glowed warmly from the wall of  windows as dusk descended and we could see several people milling about inside, obviously enjoying the delights of the inn’s celebrated restaurant.

Maybe we could order something from room service, I thought to myself, envisioning a snack delivered on a cute little tray adorned with a   flower in a bud vase.

My first inkling that there would be no such luxury came when Doug came back to the car and said, “I’ll have to drive us to the barn.”

Excuse me. What?!

The BARN?

I watched in dismay as we drove away from the lovely main building with all the lovely people inside enjoying delicious food.

I’m sure it’s fine, I told myself as we drove down a small hill toward several other smaller buildings, remembering the adorable photos from the website.

It. was. not. fine.

We pulled up to a building that was indeed a converted barn. On the left was a door that said, “Rooms 11-18.” On the right was a screen door that didn’t quite look like all the hinges lined up right.

With growing trepidation but wearing a brave smile, I helped Doug lug our bags from the car through the screen door.

Have you seen the movie The Shining?

Remember that long, dimly lit hallway where the little boy appears on his bike, ominously chanting “Redrum?” (which is ‘murder’ backwards?).

Picture that.

Only creepier.

Room 11 was directly to the left of the front door…and when I say directly to the left, I mean that the open door to our room collided with the screen door. We were literally right next to the front door and as the next few minutes would attest, we would hear that door slam every time someone entered or exited…which was apparently going to be often, as Saturday night in a beach town was in full swing.

We tentatively entered our room. Visions from the website continued to fill my head…only to be dashed to pieces as reality hit.

The room was so small our bags barely fit.

Now, I do not mind cozy. When you are on a romantic weekend get away with your man, cozy can be good.

What is not good is battered wicker furniture from the early 80s. Or slipcovers covering one sad little (seemingly precarious) chair that is ripped and torn in several pieces. Or a carpet that must have looked fabulous when it was new...in 1960. Or cracked tile in the bathroom and a mirror so old that there was rust around the edges.

The charming photos from the cheerful website seemed like a cruel joke.

Someone from down the hall sneezed and it sounded as if she were sitting right next to me. Another guest was watching the Olympics and I could hear the play-by-play word for word. Yet another guest was calling the front desk to complain that the air conditioner unit was too loud.

The walls were paper thin.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and made an announcement.

“I can’t stay here.”

My eyes met my husband’s. We were both exhausted and the thought of looking for another hotel at 8:00 at night was not appealing. The day had been incredibly humid and we both needed a shower. We were still hungry due to the fact that our dinner was tasteless and dry. Yet the thought of staying in this tiny room that time forgot for two days made me want to cry.

He told me that when he had made the reservation months ago, he had asked for their best room, anticipating a romantic time away for the two of us. Clearly, they had given our room away to another guest because we had checked in so late.

So, he began to surf the web on his phone to locate another hotel.

Have I mentioned that southern Rhode Island is a resort area and it was a Saturday night in August?

There were no vacancies in the entire state.

Finally, he struck gold…a Days Inn in Groton, CT had a vacancy!

As fast as we could, we re-loaded the car, checked out of the inn and drove twenty minutes down 95 to our new hotel. I texted Ida Mae to tell her that we wouldn’t be able to see them because we were going to a new place.

Things were looking up!

We took the correct exit and saw the Days Inn sign. Except there appeared no clear way into the hotel. We saw that there was a Walmart on the left so we pulled in there, thinking we could just turn around.

It was not to be.

Walmart led us to a very long ramp…right back onto Rt. 95.

Deep breath. Okay, we will just get off at the next exit and go back around and find the correct entrance this time.

The next exit was ten minutes away.

By this time, we were laughing hysterically to keep from crying.

When we finally made it back to the hotel, once again, we could not find the entrance. Doug pulled into the Five Guys parking lot next door  to the Days Inn and said he was going to walk over to the Days Inn and ask them how in the world a guest can find the entrance!

No wonder they had a vacancy…no one can get in!

At long last, we had our keys in hand and headed up to the third floor.

The instant the elevator doors opened, the acrid stench of cigarette smoke hit us full force.

The last vacancy was on the smoking floor.

I had held off the tears until that moment, but couldn’t do it any longer.

We had no choice at this point. It was late, we were tired and smelly, and there were no other available rooms within a 40 mile radius. This was it.

We opened the door and walked into our room…only to see a giant room with a small desk, a chest of drawers with a TV on top, a refrigerator… and a sofa.

“There’s no bed!” I wailed to my husband. Hysteria was beginning to set in.

I heard movement behind me as Doug walked down a small hallway within our room and he said, “Here it is.”

Apparently, we had been given a “suite”. Oh happy day.

I followed him into a bedroom with a double bed covered in a bedspread that was torn and sported burn holes. The door (painted a hideous brown and yellow) had been kicked in at three separate places. The walls had a discolored, yellowish hue, the accumulation of years of smoking guests. It reeked of smoke and hopelessness and made me gag.

I took a much needed shower (after a careful search for any critters that might be lurking…fortunately the room was at least clean).  I climbed into bed and pulled the thin sheet and blanket over me (praying that there would be no bed bugs). Between the sound of the air conditioner that sounded like a freight train was roaring through our room and my husband’s snores, I probably got a total of two hours of sleep.  I felt like  I couldn’t breathe, so heavy was the smoke smell.

As I finally gave up and decided to venture into the next room to watch TV, I realized anew what a failure I would be on the mission field.

I am a girly girl.

I like pretty things and surroundings.

I scream when I see bugs.

How in the world would I survive jungles  or third world countries when a smoke infested hotel room in America can make me cry?

I am tough in many ways. I am a survivor.

So how can I be so wimpy when it comes to stuff like this?

It is now nearly 6 a.m. Michael Phelps and the other Olympic athletes have kept me company through this long night. I also read my Bible and prayed.

In a short while, Doug and I will attend our old church  and see dear friends before heading to the wedding.

Unfortunately, I will have bags under my eyes the size of Texas.

And the humidity for the day is said to be the highest in years, assuring  that my carefully straightened hair will be a frizzy mess when the wedding begins at 4:00.

Although no one will probably notice the hair . When I turned on the bathroom light this morning, I was delighted to discover that since I had worn  my sunglasses all day long yesterday,  I now possess that lovely raccoon effect…meaning that one can clearly see the size of my sunglasses due to the fact that my entire face got sun except where I was wearing the glasses.

I can assure you that it is a charming look.

I only hope that the two of us do not reek of smoke as a result of tonight’s hotel stay.

Did I mention that it is an outdoor wedding?

Thunderstorms and strong winds are expected.

It will be a long time before I visit Rhode Island again.

I am back home in the hills of western Pennsylvania with my family this week.

This morning, I slipped away from my mom’s apartment and drove 30 minutes south to my hometown. I grew up minutes from a large park and to this day, it is one of my happy places.

I arrived at 6:30 in the morning before the sun burned off the fog. At such an early hour, there were not too many people on the walking trails yet but I still felt utterly safe.

Every single person I passed smiled and said hello. Pittsburgh is among the friendliest of towns; my hometown especially so.

My iPod served as the soundtrack to my life thus far, as I listened to an eclectic mix of music from the 70’s and 80’s, as well as  praise music. In my mind’s eye, I saw my dad walking beside me, as he did so many times before. We spent many an hour pounding the pavement of the walking trails, conversing about both the absurd and the the monumental.

Rather than seeing an empty Corrigan Drive, I could “hear” the laughter and honks of Senior Skip Day, an (unofficially) sanctioned day at our high school. Seniors would decorate their cars in the morning, then cruise up and down the main drag, honking at each other and playing loud music. My friends and I decorated our friend Duane’s car with carnations that read “Class Of ’83.” We spent the rest of the day having a picnic, swimming at the Wave Pool, and swinging on the swings…a sweet slice of time when we could still be kids in a small town before graduation and college beckoned us into adulthood.

My girlfriends and I spent countless hours walking on the trails during our high school years, totally caught up in teenage drama and solving the world’s problems, big and small.

As I passed the track where the county fair used to be, I saw my teenage self running up and down the steep bleachers, preparing for track season while  my dad stood by with a stopwatch, urging me onward. I could not help but smile as I remembered the days when the fair was a big deal and my brother and I clung to our parents’ hands while we looked around in wide eyed wonder at the animals, craft exhibits, jugglers, clowns, and magical pink cotton candy tempting us from behind the windows of brightly lighted stalls.

Nearby was the grove where Doug and I hosted our rehearsal picnic twenty years ago. Most of our wedding party was from out of town and we didn’t like the idea of their family and friends having to fend for themselves while we enjoyed dinner at a restaurant somewhere. So, we decided to have a huge picnic in the park after our rehearsal and it was a big hit. On that sun-drenched day, that grove overflowed with loved ones as  the scent of grilled burgers and watermelon wafted through the spring air. I mainly remember the laughter, the sense of anticipation that manifested itself as butterflies in my stomach, and my attempt to freeze that moment in time in my mind. Without a doubt, that was one of the happiest days of my life.

I walked past the playground where I was so delighted to bring my kids to play when we visited Pennsylvania…the same place my parents used to take me.

It was to this park that I went when I was trying to process the deaths of my childhood friend Tracy and my dad. Despite the fact that my eyes were blurred with tears both times, walking those familiar paths brought a measure of comfort to my grieving heart. I walked until my legs were sore and the tears dried. Then I did it all again the next day.

Those paths feel like home to me, welcoming me both in joy and in sorrow.

On this morning, a church gathered in one of the parking lots to prepare for a 5K to raise money for clean water in Haiti. Bikers headed to the BMX track on the hill for a race. Pet owners walked their dogs, big and small. Kids and their parents appeared on the black and gold playgrounds. (This is Steelers country, after all! 🙂 ). People of all shapes, sizes, and ages shared the paths with me, sending along happy greetings as they passed by.

And I could not stop smiling.

It is so good to be back home.

What about you? Do you have a favorite hometown place that you love to return to whenever you have the chance?  I’d love to hear about it!

Our Independence Day celebration took place over two days this year.

On Tuesday evening, our son played in a holiday concert in a nearby town.

Right before the fireworks began, we all sang the Star Spangled Banner. There is something incredibly moving about thousands of people singing our national anthem under a summer sky. I get chills every time.

The land of the free and the home of the brave. There is no greater country on the face of this earth.

The fireworks were amazing but rather than fuss with my camera and try to capture it, I just sat back and enjoyed the show.

This morning dawned rainy and cloudy but it soon gave way to sunshine.

Josh was to participate in a parade at 2:00. He and his band were playing holiday music on a flatbed truck. I love seeing how his eyes shine when he grabs his oboe and music and heads out the door, anxious to play the instrument that has become an extension of him.

Our plan was to attend the fireworks tonight by the lake in our town…but just as we were leaving, the skies opened up.

The storm was sudden and ferocious, complete with driving rain, hail, and lightning. We were forced to wait it out in the car. Once the rain slowed and then stopped, the kids hopped out of the car and ran into the garage. They emerged with big smiles and Doug and I burst out laughing when we saw that they had playfully donned flotation devices. 🙂

What happened next absolutely delighted me…our kids seized the day.

Rather than be bummed out that we were no longer headed to the firworks, they did this:

A playful, light-hearted moment.

Doug and I loved it.

I hope everyone had a wonderful day celebrating our magnificent country!

I am fired up.

Something was brought to my attention on Monday that really got me seriously evaluating things.

I happened to be leafing through the latest copy of People magazine that afternoon while my son had his dentist appointment and I saw an article on Tom Cruise. He  spoke in detail about how he  prepared to play a rock star in his newest movie, Rock Of Ages.

“I’ve never sung professionally,” says the 49-year old star. “I approached it the way I learned race car driving or some stunt where you develop that part of your body.” Develop it he did, plunging into about 10 hours a day of intensive voice and movement training…for 4 1/2 months….Choreographer Mia Michaels’ routine with the actor also included  push ups and ab work….Cruise perfected his voice by singing nothing but scales for nearly three months. ‘His core strength is tremendous,’ says (his vocal coach). ‘You never see a great singer who isn’t a great athlete.'”

Ten hours a day.

To practice for a movie role.

I closed the magazine, my thoughts swirling.

You know what my pervasive thought was?

Tom Cruise puts a lot of Christians to shame.

When was the last time you pursued Christ and His kingdom with the kind of passion that Tom Cruise showed for his movie role?

Do you possess his  tremendous discipline, laser-like focus, and single-minded purpose?

No? Me neither.

(If you answered yes to those questions, I salute you :)).

Too often—despite my best intentions—I find it too easy to drift through a day. I want to dig into a personal summer Bible study, yet I allow the tyranny of the urgent to take precedence and the day slips away.  I want to get in better shape, yet I have found it easy to push the snooze button rather than get up and work out. I find it too easy to bypass my to-do list and read a book.

Drifting.

I don’t want to live my life like that anymore. I want to live with purpose and intention.

If this man ( who is not a believer) has that type of purpose and drive, how can I (who has the Spirit of the risen Christ living in my heart),  meander through my life, not meeting daily goals?  Saying things like, “It’s just too hard.” Whining that I wish I were in better shape, but not making wise nutritional choices or taking the time to work out? Singing the words, “I’m desperate for You” in church, yet not reaching for my Bible first thing in the morning because life is so busy?

So, I made some changes. Jesus deserves my BEST. I have always known that but I needed a reminder.

I am meeting with Jesus every morning first thing. He is my very life, my very breath. I am digging into that Bible study. I am getting up early every morning to work out. I am making wise nutritional choices. I am working my way through a list of things I need to do…and doing them with excellence.

No more drifting.

Matthew 16:27 asks, “What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?” —(Matthew 16:27).

Tom Cruise personifies this verse.

Unfortunately, he is a passionate devotee of Scientology. He has been bold enough to proselytise about the cult to the extent that it harmed his reputation and cost him work.

He is zealous to share a lie. Sincere, but sincerely wrong.

Pray for him. While his drive and success are admirable, the bottom line is that he is a lost soul who is pouring his very life into things that will not last for eternity.

Where is our boldness as Christians?

Do we zealously guard our own reputations more than we are concerned with God’s glory and reaching the lost?

We know the TRUTH.

This is not a game. People are dying without Christ everyday while we tiptoe around, fearful of  being offensive.

Tears come to my eyes when I think about the loved ones who populate my life who do not know the beautiful and all-encompassing love of Jesus. I have shared Him with some of them but not with others.

No more.

I will share as I am led to by His Spirit, swallowing my fear and calling on His courage to open my mouth and share the words of LIFE.

I have this one life to live and I will live it with purpose rather than aimlessness.

I will live to get as close to my Savior as I can. I will  pray my heart out. If there is something in my life that I do not like, I will change it.   I will make wise choices. I will do what needs to be done. I will not make excuses. I will not whine and wish, but praise and plan.

There is no time to waste. He has work for us to do here. We are not promised tomorrow.

Do what you need to do today.

No more drifting.

The kids and I gave my husband Doug a kayak for his birthday in April.

He has wanted one for as long as I have known him and since we are surrounded by various lakes, all within a few minutes drive from our home, this was the year for his dream to come true.

We have had an unusually rainy spring so far, so when the weatherman predicted that today would be a sunny day in the 70s, we decided to take the kayak out on its maiden voyage.

There was literally no one out on the lake when we set out early in the morning. The water was smooth as glass. It was so quiet that we could hear all of the birds singing. The sun was warm on our skin and a small breeze gently wafted across our faces as we made our way deeper into the lake.

I should clarify that point by saying that it was Doug who was doing all the work. He was quite happy to let me take photos and enjoy the ride.

When I glanced back at him, he looked like a little kid on Christmas morning. Sheer joy and a huge grin. I loved it.

However, when I turned around to face the lake, I was horrified to see a big nasty black spider skittering quickly toward my feet.

Just like that, the morning stillness was shattered by my screams.

I hate insects of any kind, but especially spiders.

And a big spider that is crawling around when I am in an enclosed space where there is the distinct possibility that it could actually touch my skin is a horrendous nightmare for me.

You can clearly see my dilemma.

I am such a girl.

Doug tried fruitlessly to calm me down as I shrieked and stomped at the same time, trying to kill the interloper. With my fear of bugs, I could not believe that I hadn’t thought to check to make sure my part of the kayak was insect-free before heading out into the open water where there was no escape.

“Don’t tip us over!” he finally said in an elevated voice, tinged with panic as I continue to flail around in my efforts to end the spider’s life.

After what seemed like several minutes (but was actually a matter of seconds), the thing finally stopped moving and I was able to relax…about 20 minutes later when my heart rate returned to normal.

I was tempted to keep a laser-like focus on the area around my feet to ensure a quick death to any other insect that may be hovering in the nether-regions of the kayak but when I looked at all the beauty around me, I realized how ridiculous that would be.

With determination, I raised my gaze and drank in all the sights and sounds around me, refusing to let the spider mar such a perfect day.

Doug was definitely on board with this plan, as he was able to once again enjoy his kayak’s maiden voyage in peace.

For the rest of our trip, we shard some great conversation as well as comfortable silences, marveling once again that we are so blessed to live in such a beautiful place.

Our time on the lake seemed to end much too soon.

We can hardly wait to  get back out there.

What about you? Do you live near a body of water and what water sports do you intend to enjoy this summer?

Ever since moving to New Hampshire in 2007, Doug and I have wanted to go to the Lupine Festival in Franconia.

This morning, we decided that today was the day.

We dropped the kids off at school and headed up into the mountains.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and there was a gentle breeze. Perfect.

Our first stop was a famous breakfast place, Polly’s Pancake Parlor:

Unlike the rest of my family, I am not a huge breakfast person.

However, that has now changed after our visit to Polly’s.

Best. pancakes. EVER.

I am already making plans to go back.

Since Polly’s is in the heart of lupine country, it was only a short drive to the vast array of lupine fields atop Sunset Hill.

Along the freshly-mown trails, there were inspirational signs displaying portions of poems and songs along the way…

I know my cousin David would have loved this one… (wistful smile)

Doug and I were the only ones out in the field at that hour. It was supremely peaceful…feeling the sun on our shoulders, listening to the birds sing and the insects buzz, watching butterflies dance among the flowers.

This is the day that the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it. (Ps. 118:24)

On Sunday, our pastor mentioned that if this fallen world is so lovely—reflecting the stunning and dazzling beauty of our God—just imagine how glorious Heaven will be.

I thought of that as we wandered among the lupines.  I felt so close to God there. My heart overflowed with gratitude to be sharing this day with my husband. To be in good health. To have eyes to see and ears to hear. To feel the weight of this wonderful moment in time.  To walk on the topsoil of earth with my Savior, who delights in walking with me.

After strolling through the green paths dotted with all that glorious purple, we visited a quaint country store.

On the drive home, I couldn’t resist stopping to snap a photo of this little country church that is just quintessential New England:

I was delighted to find one of my very favorite quotes among the lupine fields:

This day truly will be written on my heart as one of the best ones. 🙂

Why not take a moment or two today to discover the beauty in your own backyard?