Puzzled

[FYI: I have moved my blog to my website: www.shelfreflection.com. Please follow me there or on Pinterest: @shelfreflectionblog]

 Today my two-year old, Emmy, decided to do a 16 piece puzzle. It’s a bit above her ability level. I watched her put all the pieces in a pile. She plucked one out and laid it on the cardboard surface. She picked another piece and jammed it into the first one. She tried every direction, but the two pieces did not fit together.

The idea that the two pieces she picked out didn’t go together was very confusing and frustrating to her little mind. She did not realize that there might be other pieces that go in between them. She couldn’t see the bigger picture; she just knew it didn’t work the way she wanted it to and she was not having it. She threw the pieces back in the pile and found a new activity.

I took it all in and felt a little convicted.

I think a lot of times we look at our lives like a puzzle. We think we know what the picture should look like. We think we know how the pieces should fit together. When we pick up a new piece for our puzzle we assume it will fit right into all the other pieces we already have. Why wouldn’t it?

But is it possible our puzzles are a bit above our comprehension level?

Sometimes we find ourselves with a piece that does not immediately fit into our puzzle. We try our darndest to jam it in every way we can think of, but it doesn’t work. It must not belong, we think.

Or we find ourselves with a piece we don’t really like the look of. It’s not the right color or shape for the picture we think we are creating. We don’t want that piece.

Like Emmy with her pieces, we get frustrated and we think we will just get rid of ones that don’t fit, are too hard to figure out, or that make us mad.

But.

What if God created our puzzle? What if we don’t get to decide what pieces go in it or in what order? What if the picture we think we are fashioning is not what God has designed for us?

What if God sometimes gives us a piece, seemingly unfit or unmatched to the picture in our minds, because He wants us to just hold on to it for a bit? To wait.

What if He plans to give us some other pieces and eventually, when we’ve accumulated a few more, a place will emerge where it fits right in?

So what are these pieces?

They are times of pain, grief, and suffering. They are people who hurt us, make us mad, or are just hard to relate to.

They are change. New jobs, new homes, new places.

They are loss. Decreased finances, decreasing health, estranged and strained relationships.

They are fights, tears, scars, and accidents.

They are the right place but the wrong time. The right time but the wrong place.

They are grays and blues when we want greens and yellows.

They are sharp and dangerous when we want round and safe.

They are the unexpected. The inconvenient. The worst. The challenging.

Who wants a puzzle with any of that? Who wants to do a puzzle where you don’t start off with all the pieces and you can’t look at the picture on the box?

We sure don’t.

[Especially if you don’t like to do puzzles in the first place, in which case this analogy may have fallen flat with you thus far and I extend my apologies. I’m going to go ahead and assume you can still appreciate the underlying meaning even if the activity is distressing to you!]

We want to make our own puzzle. We think we have a pretty good idea of what will work out and look good.

But look outside. Look at the trees that change color, the mountains that pierce the sky, water that never stops, stars that are light years away, a star close enough to keep us warm.

Look inside. Look at our bodies that heal themselves, our brains that imagine and wonder, wombs that can create and deliver new life, hearts that burst with unfathomable love for other people.

Could you have created that? Out of nothing? I couldn’t. I’m an artist and what I create is a scribble compared to the work of our Creator. Moreover, I didn’t even create what I’m using to create!

Is it possible that our all-knowing and all-powerful Creator of all things beautiful could have a better puzzle for us than we could ever imagine? Is it possible that the pieces we don’t like or can’t figure out could eventually all fit together to make the most beautiful work of art?

I think it is highly possible.

Actually, I think it is certain.

Because God tells us so.

While I’m sprawled on the floor jamming and throwing pieces left and right, God steps in and says, ‘Hold on. You need those. I know you don’t think so and I know some of them hurt to hold. But trust me. In a little while you’ll be able to let go of them. To fit them into an empty space and see their beauty. Some of them you might have to hold for a long time, but I’ll help you. Because I love you. Every single piece I give you will be worth what you see in the end. Better than anything you could fathom.’

“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” (2 Cor 4:17-18)

“For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isa 55:9)

“For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” (Eph 2:10)

“For those who love God, all things work together for good, for those called according to his purpose.” (Rom 8:28)

“Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
God, the Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet like the deer's;
he makes me tread on my high places.” (Hab. 3:17-19)

“whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and he knows everything.” (1 John 3:20)

“I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose,’… I have spoken, and I will bring it to pass; I have purposed, and I will do it.” (Isa. 46:10-11)

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor. 12:7-10)

“though he cause grief, he will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love; for he does not afflict from his heart or grieve the children of men.” (Lam 3:32-33)

“In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.” (1 Pt 3:6-9)

This is only a small sampling of what God has to say about his plan for us, His love for us, and His plan to make us holy as He is holy. He is in the business of making all things beautiful. And who are we to question the Creator and Author?

In his book, ‘If God is Good: Faith in the Midst of Suffering and Evil’, Randy Alcorn says, “To say that God is good is not to say God will always appear to be good, or that when he is good we will always like him for it…. God can be good without being safe; he can be loving without bowing to our every wish or desire.”

So we trust God, our puzzle-maker. We take the pieces He gives us. We connect the ones we can and with His help we hold the ones we can’t. We wait. And we take heart. God never leaves a puzzle unfinished.

If we stand firm on the unchanging truths of the Bible and the promises of our good, supreme Father, it’s not so puzzling after all.

Destiny (Inspired by my child)

I got to have a sweet conversation with Gaby this morning. The book we were reading had the word ‘destiny’ in it and she asked what that meant. I tried my best to give an explanation and then she says, “Destiny is something you carry with you. It’s a burden you have.” I was floored. Clearly, she had heard this from somewhere. I asked a few more questions and discovered it came from the story ‘The Gold Tiara’ from the Story Pirates podcast she listens to. She went on to tell me that “carrying the gold crown was the boy’s destiny. But he wasn’t strong enough to carry it and nobody came and helped him.”

Whoa.

There is so much to ponder about these statements. I have no idea of the context of them in the story but nonetheless they are profound. I thought about the word ‘destiny.’ It’s a word that does hold a lot of weight. A burden. 

We hear it often in epic/adventure movies when the protagonist is told they have a destiny to do such and such to save humanity. “Why me? There must be someone bigger, better, stronger, smarter, braver,” the protagonist says. They feel inadequate and ill-equipped for such a task. But, “No,” they are assured, “it must be you. Only you can do this. You have all that you need inside yourself. You just have to follow your heart and be who you were meant to be.”

We see this model in movies all the time. Lord of the Rings. Star Wars. Avengers. The Matrix. Even movies about love like Serendipity. As viewers, we live vicariously through their experiences. We like the idea of having an important legacy or purpose. To be a hero. For someone to see something in us that is inevitable and good and meaningful.

Unfortunately, we aren’t Frodo and we don’t get our destinies proclaimed to us to bolster our spirits, make us feel important, and give us directions. At least not in those terms. Like most things in movies, ‘destiny’ is romanticized. In reality, destiny is, indeed, a burden. One placed on us by the world, whether we recognize it or not.

We want to know that our life is significant. That what we do really matters. That we are more than what meets the eye. But our destiny appears elusive. How can we ever hope to achieve it? How can we ever be significant enough? And our lives become futile quests, always searching for the next thing to elevate ourselves, always wondering if we’re headed in the right direction.

The world tries to answer questions about destiny for us by suggesting all these things we need to pursue: Pleasure. Wealth. Comfort. Beauty. Success. Enlightenment. Happiness. Self-fulfillment.

But just like the boy in Gaby’s story, we can’t carry the weight of our self-importance—our crown. And no one will come help us because they all have their own crowns they’re trying to bear. We are all on a quest for our destiny.

Or rather—our identity.

Because that’s really what destiny is about. Identity. Identity: meaning, worth, purpose.

The world tells us we should write our own story, create ourselves. And so we spend all our time taking personality tests, doing walkabouts, trying and quitting, seeking knowledge about ourselves, striving to unlock some sort of hidden knowledge, skill, feeling, or ambition in the depths of our being.

We set goals to become who we’ve decided we were meant to be. Nothing should stand in the way of our quest for fulfillment. We are the author of our important story and anyone who challenges our authority or our story are attacking the core of who we are—an ultimate offense.

The world’s chosen destiny for us— self-fulfillment—is a religion. Self is god.  Rachel Jankovic says in her book (You Who?: Why you matter and what to do about it), "believing in yourself is the ultimate path not to freedom, but a horrible bondage.”

So I got to explain to Gaby that we don't have to be burdened by our destiny because we trust in God who is in charge of everything and has good plans for us. We don't have to worry about being important and finding our worth and purpose within ourselves—we would always fall short. Rachel says, "The more like him we become, the more we become the person we were created to be. Instead of carrying a burden that focuses on knowledge of self, we shift the burden to knowledge of Christ. He is sufficient. I am not nor shall I ever be. He is faithful. He is perfect. He is capable. He is enough."

The Bible doesn't tell us to live for ourselves. It says the opposite— we are to die to ourselves. Matthew 16:24 says, "take up your cross daily and follow me."

We do not have to accept the burden the world tries to put on us. 1 Peter 5:7 says, "Cast your anxieties on the Lord for he cares for you." Matthew 11:28 says, "Come to me all who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest."

Our purpose is not unknown or unattainable. 1 Corinthians 10:31 says, "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all for the glory of God." Psalm 138:8 says, "The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands." Isaiah 55:!1 says, "so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it."

"The only real value and meaning in my life is present in that wonderful phrase 'to the glory of God.' This is the freedom from the fear of being insufficient. I am totally insufficient, and I don't have to mind that at all. To the glory of God, I am weak. To the glory of God, I am not enough. To the glory of God, I come to him anyway. To the glory of God, I worship and am satisfied...

... This is the reality: Christ is more than you ever wanted. He answers the need you are feeling around in the dark to fill, and He answers it in a way that will deal with it forever... We want a little indicator that our lives matter to someone. Is the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ the Son of God not enough for us? Does that not show us that we are valued and loved in an authoritative way?" [Jankovic]

'Do you know your destiny?' is a dramatic question. But, really, do you feel burdened and aimless? Are you tired of trying to be enough for yourself and everyone else? The crown of self is too heavy for you. And it's too heavy for me. It's a weight that we are not meant to carry. 

But there is freedom in Christ. Purpose in Christ. Meaning in Christ. Identity in Christ.

"There is no hope for you that is not Jesus. There's nothing interesting about you if it is not resurrected in him. There's nothing defining about you that cannot live in Christ. Your selfishness is dead. Your lust is dead. Your need to be unique is dead. Your envy, greed, obsessions, guilts- they are all dead. Dead and gone in Christ. Stop trying to tidy them up and make them mean something, because they never will." [Jankovic]

Living for Christ means the certainty of heaven. And destiny is irrelevant. 

Be free. 

Are We There Yet?

Are We There Yet?

It's the oft-comical question of the hour, or more realistically, the minute. But it is most definitely our hearts' serious and desperate cry- our knees banging the cold concrete begging God like the Psalmist (David)- "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?...How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart?... Look on me and answer, Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death..." (Psalm 13)

I was reading this today and reflecting that when I memorized this chapter of Psalm back in high school I had no idea how many times I would come back to these words- with new eyes, new experiences, and new hurts. I had no idea how the rhythm of 'how long?' would bang around in my heart so regularly and so earnestly. It's a melody I've heard before. Dissonant notes I thought I left behind that just seem to come back in the next verse, the repeating chorus, or the ever-emotional bridge.

How long is God going to leave us in our places of pain, of grief, of despair? How long will we feel forgotten by Him? How long until we feel peace? How. Long. Must we wait?

Time can feel excruciatingly long. I know firsthand. Yet I know His timing is perfect. I desire all the answers and explanations yet I know He is the only Answer I really need. The sorrow can be like suffocating death, yet I know He is Light and Life.

I have walked this tension with Him before. He is a good Father. He loves me. He is perfect in all of His ways. I know these things are true, but I've also felt them like knives in my already bleeding heart. Suffering and pain are the seeming antithesis to every note that song pulses.

And when I feel that darkness I don't want to worship God. I don't want to love Him. I don't want to talk to Him. The tension between tragedy and purpose is hard to grasp and rarely reaches the depths of our feelings.

Yet.

Yet I know the truth. Yet I know who He is. I've walked this before and I know I will walk it again.

David has experienced that same oscillating strain- grief and peace, fear and love, despair and hope. He goes on to say- "But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the Lord's praise, for he has been good to me." (v 5-6)

A lot of times trust and love are choices not feelings.

Even when the sorrow in my heart is a battle of suffocating death, I will choose to trust in His unfailing love, I will choose to rejoice in His salvation, and I will choose to sing His praise. Yes, I will. Because I know the truth and I know who God is and I choose to believe it day after 'uncertain' day. It's as simple and as challenging as that.

I don't have to be able to explain how the ways I feel hurt are 'perfect.' And I don't think I ever will. But I can still praise God for who He is and trust Him. He is faithful and He is good. And there lies one of the mysteries we have to live with: that somehow in these moments of hurt, He is loving me. I don't need to feel it or be able to explain it but I can trust it because He is trustworthy and He is sovereign.

It is not lost on me that my last blog post was back in January of 2019 where I reflected on similar things. The beginning of the year is a popular time to evaluate our choices. My word for last year was 'choose,' and the fact that I'm revisiting this again this year is a reminder that it's not a one-and-done thing we accomplish. It is sanctification- God changing who we are. It is very much a rhythm. It is alternating between strong and weak moments. It is repetition.

It is a song being formed by the Composer of all composers. He is making a masterpiece and we need to trust that the dissonant sounds and bangings that plague our hearts will somehow be beautiful when we experience the music of His presence, see His face, and behold all of His power and glory.

We just aren't there yet.

With Open Hands

I’ll ride the ‘Pick Your Word for the New Year’ train. I wasn’t planning to, but my word chose me. And ironically my word is ‘CHOOSE’.

It will affect many areas of my life, including just being more decisive: Mike would love if I could finally tell him what I feel like eating for dinner! I get it, I can have a whole list of political opinions on a controversial issue but I can’t choose between beef or chicken??

But in a truer more real sense, it’s an active choice to surrender to God.

Last summer, at a conference we took our youth group students to, we were challenged with a question: What do you kneel to instead of God? After some reflection I realized I often put knowledge above God. Information above trust. Evidence above faith.

One of the songs we sang contained these lyrics: 

“I’ll never catch Your light
Living with knuckles white
Keeping my fists held tight
I’ll never touch Your heart
Or take in all You are
Trying to hide my scars
I’m letting go of holding on

Here I am with open hands
I have nothing left to prove
God I give it all to You
Empty me of everything

Til there’s nothing left but You

I just want to live for You"

[Open Hands by Urban Rescue]

And it struck me that my thirst and high regard for knowledge and learning, though a good thing, was me white-knuckling something that doesn’t hold a candle to the Creator. The very Author of knowledge, the Maker of my very capacity to think and learn. I needed to let go of my need for knowledge, which is essentially a need for control. How does it go- knowledge is power?

I need to CHOOSE God over knowledge. I need to choose trust. I need to choose to have open hands.

Psalm 145: 8-9, 16 says, “The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. The Lord is good to all, and his mercy is over all that he has made… You open your hand; you satisfy the desire of every living thing.”

My desire for knowledge or control is often fueled by pride or fear. But I need to let God be God. When I read these verses, how can I not choose open hands? I’m not just opening up my life to whatever wind blows through hoping I’m not swept away. No, I’m opening myself to my Creator who loves me, is for me, is good. If He is good, merciful, generous, gracious, enough, then fear is unfounded. Furthermore, my God is a God with open hands. He is not a God who hoards, withholds, or suppresses. He gives. Lavishly. He wants to give us what we need and He alone can fulfill our desires- and he does so in abundance with no strings attached.

To live with open hands is freedom unspeakable.

Trust and faith isn’t a feeling, just like love isn’t a feeling. It’s a choice. God is deserving of glory and praise regardless of how I feel about my circumstances and unanswered questions.

In the spirit of song lyrics, this song also speaks to ‘my word’:

“I count on one thing
The same God that never fails
Will not fail me now
In the waiting
The same God who’s never late
Is working all things out

Yes I will, lift you high in the lowest valley
Yes I will, sing for joy when my heart is heavy

I choose to praise
To glorify
The name of all names”
[Yes I Will, Vertical Worship, shortened]

Again, I am not trusting an unknown- I am choosing to put my trust in a faithful God.

“Come to me all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” [Matthew 11:28-30]

Though it seems contradictory, Jesus says he offers us rest when we take his yoke upon us. The yoke is an object of submission. We are allowing him to be our Master. And instead of the heavy burdens we place on ourselves or feel from others, Jesus’ burden is easy and light.

Author Hannah Anderson writes in her book, Humble Roots:

 “When we believe that with enough effort, enough organization, or enough commitment, we can fix things that are broken, we set ourselves in God’s place. And when we do, we reap stress, restlessness, and anxiety. Instead of submitting to His yoke, we break it and run wild, trampling the very ground we are meant to cultivate. It is understandable that we fear the yoke. We fear the loss of control. We fear surrender. But we must also understand that without the protections of a good master, we are not safe. From the manipulation of other masters. From the expectations of society. From ourselves… We must come to Him to be tamed. And when we are, He promises that we will find rest for our souls.”

To live with open hands is not fear. It’s safety. And boy is that hard to believe when you have to actually let go of something you’ve been gripping for awhile.  I don’t think I’ll be able to uncurl all ten fingers by tomorrow. But I am confident that God can little by little open my hands, just like his. That with his help, I can daily CHOOSE trust. CHOOSE faith. CHOOSE love. CHOOSE praise. CHOOSE his yoke instead of mine. CHOOSE surrender.

So 2019, I have no idea what joys or heartaches you are going to bring into my life, but here I am, with nothing left to give, trying to live with open hands.

Know.

I read Psalm 46 today. And I started writing. And God reminded me about some pretty significant truths. I wanted to share them with you.

Psalm 46: "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling...The nations rage, the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress...'Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!'...The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress."

I think sometimes we associate this well-known verse 'be still and know I'm God' with quiet. With peace. I picture standing in tranquil woods, breathing in fresh air, or sitting in a cozy chair by a fire, drinking hot chocolate and writing. And meditating on those words. There's nothing wrong with either scenario but I think it misses the entirety of this passage.

These verses depict utter disaster and destruction, chaos. The earth collapsing, moving, shaking, roaring. All nations warring, governments unstable and coming to ruin. It's movement, fighting, loud, dirty, shocking, unpredictable. It's over-whelming, overpowering, chaos, hopeless. How do you combat that?

And it's in the middle of that- what feels like the end of the world- when God commands us to 'be still and know.' When it's the last thing you want to do. When all seems lost, out of control, damaging, horrific.

Stop running. Stop hyperventilating. Stop screaming. Stop.
Be still.
Stop doubting. Stop despairing. Stop fearing. Stop.
And know.

Let things rage and roar around you because you can be confident in the Lord. Why?
He speaks.
He can whisper a word and the earth melts! He is sovereign over all. He controls the waters, the mountains, the beasts, the rise and fall of nations.

We are not alone. And we can trust that he will prevail against it all. Yes, because he loves us tremendously, but mostly because he is jealous for his name. He will make his name great. He will be exalted. There is no question. It's not a possibility, a potential, or even a probable. It's a definitive.
He will be exalted.

Be still and know.

The storms raging in my life. My mountains, my churning waters, my darkness, my tremblings, my fears, my questions. My chaos. Is in God's wheelhouse. Is nothing he can't overcome. Is nothing he doesn't already fully understand. Is already defeated, answered, held, moved, stilled, healed, restored, illuminated. Is under his loving control.

Be still. Be confident. Wait patiently. Know.

I don't get to know all the details, all the whys, all the how's, when's, who's. I don't get to know the why not's, the not yet's the ten minute day and the ten hour night. I don't get to know everything I want to.

But I know Him.
And that's all that matters.

To know Him is enough. To know Him is to know the deepest love, the unimaginable peace, the incomprehensible grace, the abounding joy, the certain future, the undeserved mercy, the dependable hope, the healing touch, and the irrefutable truth.

And it is enough.

There is chaos. And there is rest. There is fear. And there is wisdom.
Take refuge, accept his strength.
He is here. He always has been. He always will be.

Be still and know Him.
It is enough.

Thank you

Well, it’s been over two years since my last blog post. I felt energized by something I read the other day and decided I needed to write about it. I wish I had more time and inspiration to blog more often than biennially but here goes.

My last blog post was inspired by an excerpt from Tim Keller’s book on prayer. What I have written today is from Max Lucado’s book on prayer. I find it fitting that these posts should be side by side. The first- written in an emotionally and spiritually dark time of my life when prayer was the last thing I wanted to do. The second- written after a long and continuous time of growth, waiting, trusting, hoping, and learning how to pray again.

God has never left me, though I gave him every reason. God has never left me, though I didn’t always feel him. God has never left me, and his faithfulness is unchanging.

Lucado reminds us that Scripture commands us over a hundred times to give thanks. He ponders- if Adam and Eve had chosen gratitude instead of discontent, how different would our world look today?

In a world where it’s easy to say ‘more!’, where there’s always something bigger, better, faster, stronger, where we have a small taste of eternity and misplace our longing into basically everything else, here is my attempt to choose gratitude. To give thanks as God commands. To give thanks because, how can I not?

And as Lucado suggests: Alphabetize your blessings instead of cataloging your burdens.

My little hometown of Alta. No stoplights or shopping centers, lots of corn fields and windmills, and tranquility for days! There are pros and cons of living in a small town but I look back on those days with fondness. I love coming home. I grew up here. I know Gaby will think it’s a pretty special place too.

I am thankful for the Breeze. The curling taste of relief, refreshment, respite, however brief, from the heat. The reminder that the fire doesn’t last forever. The breeze, the breath of God will squelch the flames- and if not in this life, the breeze reminds me of eternity’s sanctuary from the sparks of this broken world.

Crayons. A brand new box of colorful, unbroken, pointy crayons.

We have been able to host a lot of awesome people at the Dojo and we are very thankful to have the house we do. From draft parties and costume parties to youth group escape rooms and whiffle ball, game nights and dinners, to friends and family who need a place to stay. Long live the Dojo.

I am thankful for Exclamation points! Snow day! Cubs win! I passed! It’s a girl! Good job! I found it! We’re going to Disneyland! Triumphs. Victories. Accomplishments. Reliefs. Encouragements. Rewards. Surprises. I am thankful for all the times that merit this simple punctuation mark.

What kind of ‘thank you’ list would this be without all the F’s: family, friends, forgiveness, fall, Fridays, facts, forests, fantasy football, Finland, fireworks, flip-flops, forever, french fries, firsts, Frosted Flakes, fountains, flowers, Frank Sinatra, festivals, feet (because otherwise no flip-flops), and fish (just kidding. no fish.)

Go to YouTube and search ‘baby laughing’ and you cannot resist a smile. Baby Giggles: the pure, unadulterated, unconditional exhibition of joy and bliss. There is literally nothing on this earth that could keep me from smiling when my Gaby Girl looks me in the eye and bubbles into giggles.

My Husband, Michael Shields, is the love of my life and best friend. Six wonderful years of marriage. Of laughing fits and tears of despair. Of stress and bliss. Of Super Nintendo and sand volleyball. Of bottle-flipping videos and kitchen dance parties. Of traveling the world and sitting on the couch watching TV. Of everything I could dream of. Of things we have yet to discover and experience together.

J.I. Packer’s book Knowing God. I could read it a hundred times and never come away empty. Among many things, he reminds me: “This is momentous knowledge. There is unspeakable comfort in knowing that God is constantly taking knowledge of me in love, and watching over me for my good. There is tremendous relief in knowing that his love to me is utterly realistic, based at every point on prior knowledge of the worst about me, so that no discovery now can disillusion him about me, in the way I am so often disillusioned about myself. There is equally great incentive to worship and love God in the thought that for some unfathomable reason, he wants me as his friend, and desires to be my friend, and has given his son to die for me in order to realize this purpose.” Read it again. And again.

The muted glow of a campfire. A flashlight piercing the darkness. The warm rays of the sun resting like a blanket. I am thankful for Light. It obliterates the shadows. It exposes, illuminates, guides, and saves. “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

How long could we go without Music? I can’t write music. So when I hear music, I feel known. So many songs I hear feel like they exploded right out of my heart. They say what I could never express or never knew I needed to. How awesome is it, when you hear the words of the song or feel the melody and think ‘Yes. That’s me.’ I am known.

So much of who we are is inseparable from our memories. Our past doesn’t define us but it does shape us. It does affect how we live today. Some are able to live in the present or constantly look towards the future. And that’s great- I am trying to be better about that, but I just have a special place in my life for my memories. Nostalgia is a regular part of my day. I never want to forget all the people and experiences that have led to this point. Who would I be without my memories?

Or. Mike knows I have a difficult time making decisions. But I am grateful for choice. There is a weight and freedom that's wrapped up in a seemingly insignificant two letter word.

Prayer is hard, but simple. It breaks me down, but builds me up. It challenges me, but frees me. I love that God gave us prayer. He lowered the communication line. And he listens to it, whether I paid the electric bill or not. Whether I’m yelling or whispering. Whether my sentences end in question marks, exclamation points, periods, or contain a million commas and parentheses. He wants to hear from me. The Creator of the entire universe desires my prayers.

Quiet.

Watch TV, peruse Facebook, talk to just about anyone and you see hurt. We hurt because we’re broken. We hurt because there are hurricanes, shootings, violence, fires, lost relationships. There is inner turmoil, guilt, shame, regret. Praise the Lord we aren’t left to fend for ourselves in our state of desperation. We have Rescue and Redemption. I love how the author of ‘Truest’ phrases it: “Rescue wears masks, you know. It’s why people say it’s darkest before the dawn. Sometimes things take a long time to make sense. Could be years and years…Or they might never make sense. But that doesn’t mean you stop trusting that the world is being rescued… God favors redemption over perfection.”

I love Stars. They are mesmerizing and mind-blowing and just plain pretty. If there is anything in the world that can make you feel small, it’s a sky full of blazing gas bodies billions of miles away. And sometimes I need to feel small.

I am thankful for ‘Too’ and ‘Together’. Common ground. Standing beside each other. Sustaining, uniting, encouraging. Because the Enemy isolates and wants me to feel alone. But he is a liar.

Something I don’t always realize I should be grateful for: the Unknown. I am a person who likes to know things. I get excited about learning. I’m one of those annoying people who starts a lot of their sentences with ‘Actually’. I don’t always act like it, but I am glad that God doesn’t let me know everything. Because then why would I need him? Why would I ever have to trust him? The unknown is the necessary thorn in the side of the prideful.

Vacations. The opportunity to step away from the routines and say ‘Let’s live a little.’ Toes in the sand. Sun on my face. Trails through the trees. Walking, riding, flying, boating. Resting. Unloading. Slowing. Down.

I have never been short on Words. If you’ve made it this far, you know that. But that’s because words are so important to me. Words are powerful. Like music, they illicit such deep emotions. Inspiring, convicting, strengthening. I’m constantly recording quotes from books I like and lyrics from songs. Words teach us. We grow by them- spiritually, emotionally, intellectually, socially. I bought a dictionary from a garage sale, so believe me when I tell you how much I love them.

X-rays and xylophones, obviously.

“For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ. And so through him the ‘Amen’ is spoken by us to the glory of God.” (2 Corinthians 1:20) I am thankful for yes.

And finally, we had the amazing opportunity to visit New Zealand last year. This is a very unique place. Besides the fact that it’s absolutely gorgeous there, they also have no predatory wildlife. In my book, that is a great place to enjoy God’s creation. And maybe one day move to the island to become a sheep rancher. (Right Mike?)

This was a helpful way for me to ponder my life outside my current circumstances and spend time thanking God because I don’t do that enough. Too many of my prayers start with ‘Please’. If you resonate with any of my struggles with prayer, I would highly recommend these books: “Prayer” by Tim Keller, “Before Amen” by Max Lucado, or “If You Will Ask” by Oswald Chambers.

Let me leave you with a quote from Tim Keller’s book:

“Prayer is the way to experience a powerful confidence that God is handling our lives well, that our bad things will turn out for good, our good things cannot be taken from us, and the best things are yet to come.”

Still

[this is the Lord's Prayer in my own words as God has put it on my heart as of late]

You said to come. 'The door is open' you said. 'Come boldly' you said.  Well here I am. Here. Low. Though not by choice. Show me I can believe you. Don't let your whispers be so faint.

Father and child. Adopted by grace, but I need the space to face you for real. I brought my appeal. It's in my pocket with a couple of shiny pennies. Is two cents enough to access the excess of your mercy? To make sense and confess of my empty fisted hands. Two coins for royalty.

You don't have to hear me, to let me close, or to care. But I carry your name. Please let me keep it. Though I'm low, gratitude is deep and grounded. I am surrounded by wisps of black, my joy confounded. So don't let me sink, don't think to let me stain the beauty of my namesake with gray tendrils of selfishness.

I need a correction of my imperfections. Nudge my emotions in the right direction. I elect you to rule my thoughts. Royal boundaries extending to eternity's tomorrow. I yearn for the end of this lurking sorrow. But more than that.  The ache is a pandemic- a global groaning for your supremacy, endlessly seeking your justice and violet transcendence. Please come.

And this is my appeal. Or more like the opposite. I'm confident I have it right. My control is a focused line. Dominant. And yet the line is fading. Graphite. Straying, parading in vacant alleys where rays once knew. I thought it was my story but it's yours. I want my way still, but God, your will. Until I can mean this, until I can sing this, your will.

Day after day you satisfy and provide, all my needs supplied. I can't deny you're faithful. The sun still rises, the spring brings green. What seems routine is you, behind the scenes, saying "Here. For you." And do I notice? Wild flowers, green blades, but my tree isn't blooming. I fume with no regard for yesterday's life and tomorrow's hope and I'm sorry.

My pride is a mile long chain I drag at my side. I try to pry it off. To break it. But I can't. I've raked barren fields with it, I've piled it in the corner. And the chain is still the main weapon I wield in the worthless battles I wage that gain me nothing but heartache. Forgive me the stains I've left behind and I'll forgive the pain the links intertwined. Now to do it joyfully.

In front, don't let my iron strand keep me from you. Don't let me entertain offense, the crimson scratchings on white paper. My own decree at the expense of needing you- it shreds and burns. Behind, don't let my rags and scars construct a fence to keep you out, a grid of despair and doubt- it strips and bars. Protect me from both.

And when I'm at the end of me and finally find I'm free, the stormy sea won't stop its surge. The blackened dirt and fleas. Blowing, blinding, biting, burying. Begging. A rage I can't defeat. Two wood beams have weathered worse, and this my shining silver key. Lord, accept my undeserved plea- unclench my fists, though I resist, and sweep my storm beneath your feet. You are enough and always will be, I only need to see.