I love daffodils. Seriously. Yellow daffodils are like sunshine to me.
We didn’t live here last spring, so I didn’t know what flowers would be around. The landlords take care of all of the gardening, so we just get whatever there is. And they have some beautiful plants and flowers around.
But yesterday morning after dropping the kiddo off at school, I got home and noticed a whole line of daffodils filling up a flower bed along our driveway. I am not a gardener. So seeing the plants before the blooms didn’t tell me what was coming! But along our drive, in all their sunshiney yellow are these glorious daffodils. There were 5-7 blooms in the morning. By the time we went out after dinner we had tons of blooms. I had no idea it could happen that fast.
We have had some hard days in these past few weeks. And the daffodils bring such joy. What a contrast. What a demonstration of God’s love for us that my favorite flowers would bloom up all over our haven.
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I am Grateful for…
Truth, even when it is hidden.
Light, that cannot be quenched by the darkness.
Joy, flowing through every day, even the hard ones.
Hope, that anchors my soul in the goodness and sovereignty of God.
Peace, that catches me off guard when I least expect it.
Love, that pours out from every direction.
Prayer, that draws me closer and hides me under His wing.
Worship, that reminds me of who He is
His Word, that comforts, encourages, strengthens
In Christ alone
People all over the world blogging on the same topic on the same day for just five minutes and linking up at Lisa Jo’s place. Today’s topic: Jump.
I am poised at the edge. Waiting to jump. I know where I am planning to jump, I believe God is calling me to do something. But I can’t jump. I have to wait. And the waiting is HARD. Really hard. I like to take action. It feels much better to be doing something rather than sitting and waiting. But there is a lesson in the waiting, too.
Depending on God’s timing. Not running forward on my own, but learning to be patient and wait for Him to move. I am waiting for the word GO, so I can jump. And I will be ready.
He has taught me so much in these last few years. I am so glad He can see the big picture. He knows the plans He has for me. And those plans are for His Glory, which is also for my good. I get to glorify Him in the waiting. I get to be shown faithful in the waiting. I get to praise Him even while I pace back and forth wanting to jump!
And there will be such freedom in the jumping. I may just whoop and holler and jump and twirl. My little girl and I will dance up and down the street in celebration.
As soon as God says it’s time.
I look at the amazingly creative world that God made and know that He made us in His image. He made us capable of amazing things as well.
I love creating things. I love the feeling when a new idea is forming and I begin to see the project in my head. I love finding old things and making something new out of them. And I tend to have many projects going at one time. Right now, I am making necklaces out of vintage rhinestone earrings, learning to stamp metal to make jewelry, creating Bible verse art for my home, waiting for it to be warm enough out to paint a wardrobe for my daughter’s dress up clothes and hoping to make fun chalkboards. Some of these will go on etsy for sale and some are just for us. It’s the creating that I crave.
For the first 15 years of my adult working life, I was stuck behind a desk all day. Drove me crazy. Then God provided for me to have my own business. I still do plenty of design work, which involves sitting at a desk. But it’s my desk, in my home. I can have a show on the tv in the background to keep me entertained. I can take breaks to write, work on something fun or surprise my daughter at lunch. My projects happen bit by bit as I move from one thing to the next. It keeps my creative brain going to be able to do that.
This is one of the necklaces I made. I can’t wait to get them all photographed and in my etsy store. Yes, I hope that someone loves the necklaces and enjoys wearing them. But the creating is what keeps me going.
People all over the world blogging on the same topic on the same day for just five minutes and linking up at Lisa Jo’s place. Today’s topic: Here.
She belongs here. Under my roof. She belongs in her bed. Steps away from my room. She belongs where I can get to her when she cries and she can get to me when she is lonely in the middle of the night.
This child that I would give everything for. This child that God has given me to nurture and love and protect. This child who has already seen big hurts in her life. She belongs with me.
She knows it. I know it. I wish that was enough. If she has to spend nights under some other roof and she cries out for me and I can’t come, will she know I wish I could? Or will she only know that I didn’t show up?
Here. With me. With the mom who loves her unconditionally and is striving to raise her well. With the one who has stood by her side every minute of every day. With the one who cheers her on and and is teaching her how strong and capable she is. With the one who is here to listen and talk and share and play and love.
She belongs here.
We are still in the middle of our storm. The boat is shaking. The wind is howling. And I am still choosing to trust. But it’s not always an easy choice. There are times I have to sit still and will myself to choose trust over fear. It would be so much easier if I could just get a glimpse of the big picture. The future plans God has for us. I guess then it wouldn’t be faith.
So today, I tried hard to write about gratitude. I know there are a million wonderful things in our life that I am grateful for. But when that wind is blowing and shaking the walls around me, it’s hard to focus on them. So I attempted this post at least 8 times today.
And then she smiled at me.
That big, real, all the way to her eyes and down to her toes smile. The one that will probably always stop me in my tracks. The one that can light up any room and can bring sunshine to the cloudiest day.
I sang “You are My Sunshine” to her all the time while I was pregnant. I had no idea how true that would be.
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People all over the world blogging on the same topic on the same day for just five minutes and linking up at Lisa Jo’s place. Today’s topic: After.
“It is done. Final. We put our heads down and walked through the storm. Now it’s just the gentle rain at the end. And guess what comes after the rain. The flowers bloom.”
This is what I wrote the day my divorce was final. We have these milestones in our lives. Landmarks that tell our story. Life is broken up into, before/after my dad died. Before/after my daughter was born. Before/after my husband left. These huge changes in life that help define our life. Maybe the most recent one is always the biggest in our memory. But knowing what life was like in the year or two before and the year or two after the divorce, I see such huge changes. Not just in circumstances, but in me.
I am blooming.
My faith has grown by leaps and bounds. My trust in God and His goodness. I am more joyful, more playful. Sometimes walking through these incredibly difficult things in life is exactly what it takes to make us who God meant us to be. If we let it. I don’t want these experiences to be wasted and it gives me such joy to see they are not.
What I am becoming in my “after”, is just who I am supposed to be.
It’s Tuesday. And my Savior is still Risen. It’s 2000 years later. And my Savior still lives.
I am not yet over the Sunday morning celebration of my risen Lord. Let’s face it. If He never rose, it’s all for naught. All of our believing and trusting and hoping in Him. Either he conquered death and paid the price for our sins or He didn’t. Wasn’t able to. And if that were the case? Then no one could. We are not capable of paying the price for our sins and living to tell the tale.
But He was.
After He rose again, He appeared to many people. He appeared to Mary, in the garden. He appeared to two men, on the road. He appeared to Peter. He appeared to the disciples twice, in the upper room. He appeared to more than 500 others.
There is so much I want to know. I have my first study Bible and I love all of the amazing things in it. Telling me where else in scripture a particular event is recorded. Drawings of what the temple looked like. Timelines and graphs. So very much information that I can’t wait to learn.
But all I really NEED to know is that He Lives. He came. He died for my sins. He rose again. If that was all the information I had, it would be enough.
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I have a friend. The kind you can totally count on.
I met her 4 months before my husband left. She certainly didn’t meet the best version of me. She met a broken woman trying desperately to hold on to a family that was collapsing. I cried the very first time we met. She immediately began praying for me and my marriage. She wrapped her arms around my daughter and I and never let go.
At church, she always sought out my daughter and made her feel special and loved. She was the first person to show up on our crisis day. After he left, she checked up on us often. It can be lonely to be a single mom. Especially when the kids are really little. My daughter was only 3 at the time, so we didn’t get out to a lot of activities. Most people I knew were starting their activities around her bedtime. We had no family in the area and felt very alone.
My friend had built an incredible life there. She was involved in so many activities and living in the city meant it took a while to get from one to the next. But she would stop in on her way somewhere with a hug, an encouraging word, and a treat still warm from the oven of whatever fabulous restaurant she had just discovered.
When we moved into our new home last summer, we already lived 2 hours away from her. Our new church family came and moved all of our boxes and furniture and helped unpack books and kid stuff. They left and my family wasn’t here yet. But then, Miss Wendy showed up. I was burned out and couldn’t make another decision about where something should go, so she stepped in. I was willing to live with boxes and sit on the floor for a few days, but she just started unpacking and organizing. By the time she left that evening, we had a completely functioning, and beautiful, living room.
Now she lives half the country away. And I can’t wait until we get to see her again. We have a wonderful family and church surrounding us here. But it’s still good to know, Wendy is out there. And would show up if we needed her.