Blessings Given and Taken

We drove through hours of rain this past week.  Pouring rain.  A cold rain that came in sheets and made seeing difficult (but that we gave thanks for because our land was still bone dry).  The roar of the rain combined with the cries from The Princess in the back seat to fill my head with sound louder than I thought I could stand.  I couldn't wait for the car ride to end, and we still had over an hour to go.  But we had a goal and a reward ahead.  Our friends.

Each year we travel to another part of the state, the one we used to live in, with its rolling hills and winding roads.  It was our home for seven years.  It was the place where our two boys were born.  And most of all, it was where I really discovered as an adult what a church family was. 

When we moved four years ago from that home and that place, we left behind part of our hearts.  We joined family here, and the blessings of living near them are many.  It was what I had always hoped would happen -- our moving back home.  I love having my children here near their grandparents.  I love living less than thirty minutes from my sis and closer to my best friend. 

But we left so many behind.  We left the people that became my family when my family was far away.  We left close friendships that can't be replaced.

Yesterday, as I sat across from my husband at a church meal with empty chairs beside us, the contrast was fresh in my mind.  Where before our table was full to overflowing with friends, it's now . . . not. 

"God gives, God takes.
God's name be ever blessed"  (Job 1:21, The Message).



Blessing God's name for gifts #457 - 482:

safety in traveling while the heavens poured

much-needed and asked-for rain

staying with friends

their gracious hospitality

maple pie (mmmmmm)

Baby Girl's quick attachment to Pocahontas

a hand-painted ornament from that Indian princess

a house full of memories

family away from family

Thanksgiving traditions

Christmas traditions

both trees up and decorated

Baby Girl hanging the first ornament

Christmas lights that work!

red everywhere (it's my favorite)

Christmas movies

most of my Christmas shopping completed

good deals

a sister who comes to my rescue

little girls in Christmas dresses

my boys saying prayers in the service at church

Baby Girl loves her sparkly shoes

communion at the table with my love

my husband across from me at the table each day

faithfulness

glimpses of eternity in the every day

Blessings Given and Taken

All Alone

"The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone."  Exodus 18:18

"It is not good for the man to be alone."  Genesis 2:18

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work:

If one falls down, his friend can help him up.

But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!

Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone?

Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.

A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."

Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

"And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of his return is drawing near."

Hebrews 10:25 (NLT)

Alone. God's Word over and over shows us that we aren't meant to be alone. We were created out of relationship for relationship.

I need my husband to get me out of bed each morning to exercise; I wouldn't do it without him. I need my accountability partners' silent pressure to read my Bible each morning; I'd be even more inconsistent without them. I need my family's and friends' expectations to be at church each week; otherwise, I'd be tempted to stay home in my pjs or go hiking if the weather even hinted of niceness.

I need community. I need other people to encourage me to press on to do the right thing each and every day. I simply can't do this Jesus walk alone. I wasn't meant to.

And neither were you.

I encourage you to visit Internet Cafe Devotions for more Word-filled inspiration.

All Alone

Thirty-Three -- SWEET!

image by mattox

"Just as lotions and fragrance give . . . delight,

a sweet friendship refreshes the soul."

Proverbs 27:9 (The Message)

Apparently part of my funk lately is that I've been dreading my birthday.  My younger friends would say it's because I'm old.  Ahem.  And forgive me, more mature friends and family, for dreading 33.  I know it's not really old, but for some reason in my mind it seemed much older than 32.  It's silly, but it's the way my mind works.

In addition to dreading old, sometimes holidays are a bit of a let-down.  All that excitement leading up to them, and then you blink, and it's over.  Bleh.  So, in the days leading up to my birthday last week, I was restless and itchy and, bless my husband's heart, a bit grumpy.  (I'm so glad he doesn't officially follow my blog and comment.)  I seriously don't know what my problem was.  I should be happy for each day of life, right? 

When the big day arrived, it was actually pretty good.  A normal day made special by buster bars and the wished-for present (Photoshop) from my guy.  Handmade cards from my boys completed the gift. 

Then 33 got even better.  That day and the next day, I received some treasures from some mighty good girlfriends (and a few loveable guys) . . . friends from childhood and friends from more recent years that reminded me just how blessed I am.

Some Facebooked me.
One emailed me.
One texted me.
One found THE PERFECT CARD.
One sent me a package of meaningful goodies.
And a new friend allowed be to share a burden.

These friends are as varied as can be . . . . different personalities, lifestyles, ages, stages and appearance.  They reminded me that these thirty-three years, that have been as varied as my friends are, have been awfully sweet. 

And they allow me to say, "Bring on the next 33.  I'm feeling refreshed."

For more Word-Filled Wednesday, visit Internet Cafe Devotions.

Thirty-Three -- SWEET!

An Open Door

We say tomato; he says tomahto.
We say banana; he says banahna.
Tomato, tomahto; banana, banahna. 
But we're not calling this whole thing off.

A couple of months ago, we signed the boys up for British Soccer Camp.  The World Cup had added to the soccer hysteria in our house until it was nearly at a breaking point.  When it was over, it was like the after-Christmas blues.  Thankfully, the boys had the end-of-summer soccer camp to look forward to and that cheered them.

A week before the camp was to begin, we received a call from the company asking if we'd be willing to host the coach.  I was hesitant.  I love to have people over, but I wasn't sure about having a complete stranger living in my home for a week.  And a college-aged one at that.  I tend to live cautiously, guarding what is mine . . . my feelings, my friends, my family.  My husband and boys with their bigger, wide-open hearts were excited at the prospect, so I agreed.  With reservation.  And hoped for a girl.

He wasn't. (Even though he was willing to wear pink wings for the kids.)

In one too-short week, we all fell in love with our coach.  We laughed at miscommunication (who knew English could be so difficult and different-but-the-same?), we learned from each other, and we made a new friend.  So now pieces of our hearts are driving around the Midwest finishing up a job and soon to fly across the Atlantic.  We're hoping for a friendship that lasts across an ocean and years.

And I'm thankful for the lesson I learned from my family:  An open door to a house can open a door to a heart.

Above all, love each other deeply . . . Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling.  Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms.  ~ 1 Peter 4:8-10





An endless list of gifts continued #168 - 185:

a new lesson learned

reward for risk

a new friend

enlarged hearts

a sad goodbye means we care

Lots Of Laughs

cool drinks when summer is the hottest

watching my boys learn

 . . . and love

 . . . and have fun

learning new English -- ice lollies, banger and mash, bobbles and flat batteries

my dad can jump a car

 . . . and another

a tour around a Midwestern zoo guided by a Brit

new soccer games

a home to offer hospitality

a God whose love throws doors wide open

forever

An Open Door

A Time to Pray

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven" (Ecclesiastes 3:1). 

Earlier today seemed a time to dance for me.  There are those days that we are blessed to be able to smile and laugh.  There is a time for that.  But there is also a time to weep and a time to mourn, and often one time quickly follows another.

There is also a time to be born and a time to die.  And sometimes that time to die comes too soon, in our eyes, after the time to be born.  Much too soon.  In the past week, two of my friends have each lost their newborn daughters.  My heart hurts for them.  Even while I was dreaming of dancing, my thoughts were not far from them.  As a parent, I can only imagine their loss.  And I will be very honest, when my thoughts do wander into that territory of wondering how to survive that pain, I quickly lead them in another direction.  Even the imagined loss is painful.

So please, I ask you to take this time to pray for Andy and Jenn and for Matt and Cindy and for each of their families.  There is always a time for prayer. 

And if you would like for me to pray for you, please share your request.  It will be my honor to carry your burden.

A Time to Pray

Amy in Peru, A New Friend

I am excited to introduce you today to my guest, Amy.  An American dwelling in Peru with her husband and family, she is living out the call to shine Christ's light there.  Enjoy her story.

"Peru was nice for a visit, but I would HATE to live there!" Micah confided to me on the flight home from a 3 week mission trip in 1996. Be careful what challenges you whisper when you think the Lord isn't listening. :) Micah and I were 18 and 20 years old, one year raw out of high school and very much longing to be married. Obviously, we did not anticipate a return to Peru. ever.

We had more urgent things on our minds. The day after we got back to Portland, Oregon, Micah asked my dad for permission to marry me. Four months later, we eagerly began our new life as properly wedded folks. Young marrieds. Literally.

Recently, Micah had been seriously growing up in the LORD. He had started reading his Bible like nobody's business, memorizing whole books and even became known as 'the Bible boat' on the job site where he was an electrician. In those early years we frequented a certain Mexican restaurant and became friends with a handful of Mexicans who worked there. Ever eager to start our own evangelistic Bible study, it suddenly occurred to us one evening to ask 'Miguel' if he'd be interested... everything sort of snowballed from there. He invited friends, we bought bi-lingual Bibles, several of them trusted Christ, we stumbled along in broken Spanish. 2 years passed. We continued on. We bore 2 children. We bought a house. Life was exciting, but about to take exhilarating to a whole new level.

Reflective one evening, Micah stood on the deck of our newly purchased home, "I can't stand the idea that all I'm working so hard to build [wiring multi-million dollar homes] is one day just going to burn up. I want to build something that will last for eternity."

Those were the words that changed everything.

After a year of waiting, wondering, deliberating, in 2001 supported by our local church elders, we moved to Peru for a year. We were supported by our own savings and a handful of individuals who had faith that somehow God would use two youngsters who were shockingly ill-prepared for ministry. We were young and full of hope that in fact God would use us.

That year was hard. Culture. Language. Two small children... Need I say more?! But it was GREAT. It was absolutely delicious to trust God so extravagantly. It was life. God taught us so much about trusting Him with everything from finances to extreme traveling (36 hours on 6+ buses between two South American countries with little/no Spanish and two boys in diapers... yeah. never again.) We were hooked. We couldn't think of how we'd fit in our previous life after that stretching adventure. We went back to get things settled to move back indefinitely.

Over the past 9 years, we've worked with already established churches, doing TONS of evangelism, Bible studies, and leading/supporting new church plants. This last year we are taking risks again with our good God in the jungle! We're planting a church from the ground up! And oh, are we learning painfully precious truths even as I write!

It is such a strong passion of ours that people draw near to the Living God. We'd love to share our adventures with you! If you'd like to know more please read our blogs or e-mail us! We love making new friends! We love giving glory to God for what He is doing!

amy in peru

http://thetuttletribe.blogspot.com/ - ministry website/blog
http://apilgrimsproject.blogspot.com - my personal blog

Isn't it a great story . . . a family simply willing to follow Jesus wherever He is going and enjoying the adventure!

I'm thankful Amy was willing to take the time to share here, and I asked her how we could help her family.  I encourage you to take a look and see what YOU can do!  Come alongside and shine Christ's light too!  Support others where you cannot go.

Go bless!

Amy in Peru, A New Friend

Your Words, My Treasure

My Bible is lighter.  So is my spirit.  I just emptied the Word of treasures and reread them slowly.

These lovely jewels have been tucked away in my favorite book.  I am a card-keeper.  Oh, not all cards. But the ones that mean much to me. Some of these cards I had hidden in my Bible so that I could carry them closely. 

There is a birthday card from my grandma who passed away years ago.  It was the last one I received from her, and it wasn't even in her hand.  She asked my mom to write for her because her hands were too swollen.  She died a few days later.

It has resided alongside a much more recent card from my Pocahontas . . . a card written to let me know what I mean to her.  Priceless to me.

There are many more that I've sheltered between the pages of the Ultimate Letter . . . precious words tucked between Living Words.  But it's time to move them to a new home -- the larger treasure chest in my bedroom where I keep very special things.  It holds the stockings my mom made for us to hang at Christmas; the quilts from a great-grandmother that I'm not currently displaying; my boys' tiniest baby clothes.  Plus many other cards and letters too dear to me to let go of:  love letters from my husband, cards with encouraging words from friends and family over the years.  Words that have reminded me I am loved, have helped me to press on, to continue doing right, to persevere.  And every time I peer into the chest, it's an opening of gifts and memories and encouragement.  Treasures.

In this day of quick comments and Facebook updates that are easy and helpful in their own way (but not nearly so lasting), please let me give you a little nudge.  May I gently push you in the direction of that desk that holds your pretty paper and your favorite writing pen?  Your words just may be "apples of gold in settings of silver" to someone.    

Write riches to one you love or to one who could use some encouragement.  Write your heart for them to drink in with their eyes, hold in their hands, and tuck away to treasure again and again.

Your Words, My Treasure

Through Sorrow She Sings

She is my friend. A beautiful bird -- like a robin. Sweet and honest, she brightens my day. She sings through her sorrow, and says that I encourage her. Yet her strength in grieving marvels me. She continues to believe, to trust, to live.

She is also my friend. My Pocahontas. My bright star and little sis. She is The Robin’s middle bird. Silly and not afraid to be who she is. She likes my camera.

This is the Robin’s Baby Bird. I adore her. She can marry whomever she chooses as long as the boy is one of mine.

This is The Robin’s too – The Builder of the nest. I love him in all his scariness. I must. He has frightening pictures of me, and he's not afraid to use them.

And this one. Pocahonta’s mirror opposite. The Robin’s oldest bird. The Sleeping Beauty, I named her. Little did I know that she would sleep before us all.

It is in this I marvel: The Robin still sings, still smiles, still lives, even though her first bird has flown to Jesus. Over a year passes, and we all still miss her. The heart may seem trapped in winter, but because of Jesus, The Robin can call forth spring.

"Let not your heart be troubled,"
His tender word I hear,
And resting on His goodness,

I lose my doubts and fears;

Though by the path He leadeth

But one step I may see:

His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He watches me.

His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He watches me.

Through Sorrow She Sings

The Woman's Friend and a Musk Ox

Yesterday we went on a field trip to a museum in the Big City. (It included a stop at Steak 'n Shake and Kohls -- gotta love homeschooling.) The boys had a great time, and I'm sure they learned a great deal. The museum had many interesting and fun exhibits for them to experience, but I found myself most enchanted by two in particular.


First of all, this museum boasts the world's best scale. When you step on the slightly padded square, at first you don't even realize that you're being measured and compared (which might be a little frightening if the scale was sizing you up against Cindy Crawford or or some young hot thing). But no. This scale, instead, compares you to . . . Ice Age Animals. No kidding.

The Beautiful Armadillo (their words, not mine)

The Dire Wolf

The Tundra Musk Ox

I noticed that the Woolly Mammoth wasn't on there. Apparently this scale has its limits. But I have decided I want one (the scale, not the ice age animal). Instead of shrugging off a few extra pounds, I would be smacked in the face with an image. I would have to ask myself, "Is this dessert worth looking like a giant beaver?" I'll know it's really time to get serious about breaking out the sweatpants when the picture is starting to read tundra musk ox. It might just get me motivated to keep my hand out of the candy jar and my feet on the treadmill to avoid looking like a tapir. Of course, right now I'm between a dire wolf and a giant beaver, so I'm not sure what that makes me. A giant dire?

Moving on to another part of the museum, I was confronted with this:

A Woman's Friend

I want you to know I've had better friends. And if you never tell me I resemble a musk ox, I'll count you as one of them.

The Woman's Friend and a Musk Ox