What Joy Looks Like #3

"I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth." 3 John verse 4

What joy looks like...

Dirty feet. My daughter's feet... muddied from the streets of Kampala, Uganda.

Five years ago (or so) she came home from summer camp ready to pack her bags again for Africa. She'd seen the documentary called Invisible Children that revealed the horror of the Northern Ugandan children; children under the age of twelve, stripped of their childhood, forced to live as murdering soldiers, desensitized of all emotion. My daughter was ready to fight for justice on their behalf. "If I don't go, who will?" she asked.

I knew her desire was true and not a whimsical, emotional, teenage wish. I could see God's hand print for foreign missions on her life since she was a little girl but, war-torn Africa? That was beyond my comfort zone as a mother. So, we prayed for three years. We prayed that an opportunity would arise for her to go with a well established ministry team from somewhere in the United States.

God provided the way the first Sunday we set foot in Wellspring Church, November 2008.

She's traveled and ministered to the children at the Kampala Children's Center twice now. The first year was full of pictures of gorgeous children full of joy and hope; children who have been stripped of everything this world calls precious. Yet, they're full...full of God's redemptive work through Jesus; full of dreams and purpose not only for their own future but the future of their nation.

This year, there was a photo of her. She was teaching the children how to play; how to "think outside the box" (literally) when it came to creative play. I can't explain the emotion that overwhelmed me at seeing her face fully animated and engaged with these children. She exuded Jesus from every pore. She was alive! She was doing "the good work" that God had preordained for her from the beginning of creation.

Every parent has great aspirations for their children when they're born. We dream about how great they can be; imagine the career path they should take; wish the best for them. But, we must remember, God is their Father. Our only purpose is to raise them to explore how God made them, designed them and encourage them to follow God's desire for them.

"I have no greater joy than to hear (see) that my children are walking in the truth." 3 John 4

What Joy Looks Like #2

"It has given me great joy to find some of your children walking in the truth, just as the Father commanded us." 2 John verse 4

What joy looks like...

A questioning child. A thinker. That's my firstborn. He was always full of questions as a toddler. Much more advanced than just "why?" He was always trying to figure out how things worked. I remember one warm, fall night when he was three. We were cuddled up in his bed, in the darkened room near an open window. Like every night we'd read a book or two, said our prayers and relished the silence that comes before sleep. In the quiet of that particular night, he noticed the stars.

Mommy?" he asked. "Who put the stars in the sky?"

"God did." I replied.

I can't recall the specific conversation after that but I do remember that's when he first realized the awesomeness of God. That's the night he realized the same God that filled the sky with stars created him and loved him so much that He gave us Jesus. I know, because that night he asked Jesus to live in his heart and help him to love God like He loved him.

It's been twenty years since we had that conversation. It's but a blur in my firstborn's memory amidst the years of rebellion, questioning and doubt. But God remained faithful to that prayer. He revealed himself not only as the God who placed the stars in the sky but the God who loves my child unconditionally.

I sat at the dinner table Monday night with my firstborn, his wife, his two year old daughter and six month old son. We held hands and his daughter prayed, "Thank you Jesus for our food and for our family. Amen!"

What does joy look like? A child. My child who is journeying with God and teaching his children about the One who placed the stars in the sky.

What Joy Looks Like

"When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul." Psalm 94:19

The word joy appears over 240 times in the Bible. It's obviously meant to be characteristic of one who knows God and puts their faith in Christ. But, it wouldn't be fair to say you must be happy no matter what's happening in your life. That would be unrealistic. Not every experience is joyful. But I do know through scripture, that joy is meant to be restored in our hearts as a result of trusting God with our lives.

What does joy look like in real life? I thought over the next few days, I'd draw a picture of how God's defined joy in different circumstances of my life. Hopefully you can relate. Will you join me?

What joy looks like....

Wood rot. It's been a problem in our aging home for over a decade now. We knew about the rotting basement door and the one at the back of the garage but the beautiful archway in the front of the house is what surprised us. This archway was the selling point of our home; the quaint characteristic that made the house stand out from all the rest in the neighborhood; the focal point of compliments from guests and passers-by.

At first I just thought it was only in need of a quick paint job until I went to scrape off a peeling paint chip and my finger went through the wood siding. My husband reassured me it would be no big deal to just replace the one side of paneling and cover it with vinyl siding like the rest of the house. So, we put it at the bottom of our "to do list" for the summer.

Last Saturday (the last weekend of the summer) my husband started peeling away the siding, digging at the rotted veneer only to find more rot at the core. The entire post had to come down. What we thought would be an afternoon's work for novice, do-it-yourself carpenters was halted. My husband's heart became anxious knowing this project was beyond his ability and he'd have to call on someone else for help. But that call would wait until Monday.

It wasn't ten in the morning on Monday when the master carpenter and his wife was already taking measurements.

"Wow! That was fast" I commented as I greeted them. "Did Pete call you this morning?"

"No. I've just been working on the solution for your basement door frame and this archway in my head for a few weeks now. I'm ready to order the materials and frame everything out," he nonchalantly replied.

My heart literally leapt for joy knowing God had resolved the issue before we even had time to whisper up a prayer for help. What love He'd shown us in that moment, to send these friends who so willingly lend a hand; who come alongside us and help to bear our burdens. What a blessing. What a joy.

When they left, I couldn't get to the phone fast enough to let my husband know he could cross that call to the master carpenter off his "to do list" because God had already sent him.

God's joy comes in so many different packages. I just can't wait to see how it's wrapped every day.

Joy is Contagious

"Your God has set you above your companions by anointing you with the oil of joy." Hebrews 1:9

Laughter is contagious. It attracts. Have you ever noticed? When you enter a room, are you not first drawn to the one who is laughing? It doesn't matter if you know what they're laughing about, you can't help but smile in return and wonder, "What's so funny?" Laughter lightens the mood in the room as well as in our hearts

I had the privilege of spending the weekend with someone who loves to laugh. From the time we unloaded our cars, pitched our tent at the fair and sold our first book, we were laughing; not at anyone...just from the pure joy of life. Our joy attracted the crowds.

We sat side-by-side in the midst of 20,000 people glad to be living our dream as authors, sharing our talents with families, encouraging aspiring writers to pursue their dreams. It's not that we were privileged; that our dreams were fulfilled without pain, rejection and hard work. On the contrary, we both faced hardships in our journey (and still do) but the joy of what has been made complete thus far, gives us hope.

It should be that way with all of us on our journey with Christ. So many of us hang onto the sorrow of the cross; the picture of the suffering, dying Jesus that we forget the joy of the empty tomb. We use the cross as an excuse to focus in on our own suffering as though that is how we identify with Christ. We forget, that Christ came to give us hope, a future, abundant life...JOY.

The psalmist writes of our Savior in Psalm 45:7 "You love righteousness and hate wickedness; therefore God, your God, has set you above your companions by anointing you with the oil of joy." Does picturing a laughing, joyful Jesus make you tilt your head and say, "Hmmmm?"

I don't think he attracted the crowds by frowning or furrowing his brow, pointing an accusing finger or motioning toward Golgotha. Instead he greeted the crowds with compassion, with healing, with forgiveness, with hope for the future. That brought joy. That's what attracted the crowds.

Does the joy of the Lord attract the crowds (however small) to you? Can you truly say, "The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song." Psalm 28:7

Eternal Encouragement & Hope

"...and by his grace (God) gave us eternal encouragement and good hope. (May he) encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good deed and word." 2 Thessalonians 2:16-17

Encouraging is not something that comes naturally to me. Encouragement is what I seek from others at low points but not what I find easy to give. I have to consciously focus on my words and body language when someone comes looking to me for encouragement. Encouragement is a skill that I've had to learn. Maybe it's because I'm distracted by my own world at that moment. Maybe it's because I'm wondering how to solve their issue or crisis rather than focusing on listening to their heart. Maybe it's because I don't like pain and I want to end it quickly for them.

My husband on the other hand, is a great encourager, much like I imagine Barnabas to have been who was known as the Son of Encouragement (Acts 4:36). An encourager consoles. He will stop what he's doing and focus on the hearts of others. An encourager is a visionary. He sees the "big picture" and knows, in light of the present moment, everything's going to be okay. An encourager cheers. He revels in the good. He's on your side, praising your good points, cheering you on to be the best, to do your best until you reach your destination. An encourager is a good problem solver. In the midst of chaos, he helps untangle the mess, clear the path so you can be on your way again.

Everyone needs an encourager in their life. We're told in 2 Thessalonians 2:16-17 that Jesus, himself, has given us eternal encouragement by his grace (of forgiveness). Jesus is our great consoler and listener when we hit our low points. He's also our visionary and cheerleader. He's the artist that drew the big picture and will work out all the messes along the way cheering us onto His desired destination for us.

As we walk together, those who find encouragement hard to find or hard to give, learn from the eternal encourager, Jesus. May we in turn encourage one another in Him and in everything.

Toxic Puddle

"Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and he (God) will give you everything you need. So don’t be afraid, little flock. For it gives your Father great happiness to give you the Kingdom." (Luke 12:30-32).

Fluorescent green blood oozed onto the driveway from beneath my eleven-year-old car. Praying my cats wouldn't attempt to quench their thirst by lapping up the toxic puddle, I hopped in the car and raced to the opticians office, anyway.

I'd spent the week wearing retro '90's frames since my newer frames snapped and I was anxious to return to the 21st fashion century. I breathed a sigh of relief when I got there without the car overheating despite the needle on the temperature gauge registering HOT.

Sporting my new specs and a $300 bill, the two-and-one-half mile ride home was a bit out of focus. Despite all the adjustments in the optician's chair the frames were uncomfortable, my sight was off and my mental cash registered started to "ka-ching" loudly as the radiator hose hissed mockingly, two blocks from home.

As I pulled into the driveway, I hovered between panic and faith.

This year my husband and I made a major adjustment. We made tithing, saving and paying off debts our financial priority. Our financial decisions have been based on needs vs. wants and what our budget allowed. These are biblical principles and how the "Christian financial experts" say we should be living. But what to do when needs out-weigh the cash flow in the midst of disciplined stewardship? Where does God's grace and mercy come into play?

Jesus tells us in Luke 12 that we are more important to God than the birds of the air or the lilies of the field who always find food and are beautifully adorned. So, he says, “Don’t be concerned about what to eat and what to drink. Don’t worry about such things. These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers all over the world, but your Father already knows your needs." (Luke 12:29-30). Instead, Jesus encourages us to "seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and he (God) will give you everything you need. So don’t be afraid, little flock. For it gives your Father great happiness to give you the Kingdom." (Luke 12:30-32).

If I've learned anything this year it's that life is not a cosmic chess game between us and God. How much we've tithed, saved or how great our needs it never out-weighs God's love, grace and mercy toward us who honestly seek Him first. It's about abiding in Christ and Christ abiding in us. It's about the flow of relationship.We don't give in order to receive. We give because we love. He gives because He loves and it gives him great pleasure.

The tow truck carried away my red wagon and within 24 hours the toxic puddle had dried up and the damage was repaired. "Ka-ching." I must admit, my hand wandered toward the big, red panic button but as it hovered, Jesus reminded me "Don't worry about such things...Your Father already knows your needs...It gives (Him) great happiness to give.

Whatever creates a toxic puddle in our lives, may we learn to see God's smile reflected back at us and remember, He's got it under control.

Wise Children

"O Lord, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth! Your glory is higher than the heavens. You have taught children and infants to tell of your strength, silencing your enemies and all who oppose you." Psalm 8:1-2

The wisdom of children far surpasses my own, at times. That's why I always welcome their conversations. When I listen to them I'm getting a glimpse of God's heart. Here's a bit of God's wisdom, compassion and power some children have shared with me:

***

It had been an hour-long, Wednesday night praise service. I'd quickly rushed to the nearest empty seat in the middle section of our modern sanctuary and sat alone. I thought I was the only one aware of my surrounding empty seats . Then, during the benediction, a five-year-old girl slid down the long row of chairs to my side. "Hi! I'm Kaitlyn," she said with a sincere smile and sparkling blue eyes. "I thought I'd come sit with you so you wouldn't be alone anymore."

***

I shared a late summer walk around the block with my two-year-old granddaughter. She noticed the piles of dry, discarded leaves alongside the road. She soon discovered how they crunched beneath our feet as we walked. "Crunch, crunch, crunch!" she exclaimed each time, delighted in her new awareness. Then she found an itty, bitty red leaf in perfect form. "Awww. A baby leaf. So cute," she said, stopping to pick it up, examining it like a mother tending to her newborn. "So pretty, red." And she carried God's delicate treasure all the way home.

***

My daughter couldn't settle down for bed. She was just barely 18 months old and feeling out of sorts. I'd rocked her for over an hour and attempted to lay her down three times but each time she shrieked with pain. "What's wrong? Where does it hurt?" I asked.

With that old familiar tug, "My ear," she cried.

"Mommy will be right back with some medicine." I closed the door and whispered up a prayer. "Please, dear Jesus, we can't even afford Tylenol let alone a doctor's visit and Amoxicilin."

When I returned to her crib with a dropper, she greeted me with a big smile, laughing and jumping. "He fixed it, Mommy!" she squealed, pointing to a shelf of stuffed animals.

"Your ear?"

"Yes."

"Who fixed it?"

"He did!"

I pointed to each stuffed animal, Bert and Ernie, even to the characters on the covers of the books we'd read earlier.

"No, Mommy! HE fixed it," she insisted, pointing to the same shelf.

I was stumped. Then I remembered the prayer I'd whispered into thin air. But, Jesus couldn't have revealed himself to my baby girl, for real...could he? So, dismissing that possibility I asked, "Does this man have wings?"

Again she pointed, "No, Mommy! HE fixed it!"

I then pulled out the board book, Jesus and the Children, we'd read earlier and pointed to the picture of Jesus playing leap frog with smiling children. "Did HE fix your ear? Did Jesus fix it?"

Relieved and elated she jumped up and down, "Yes, Mommy. HE fixed it. He fixed my ear!"

"How?" I asked.

"He touched it," she said mater-of-fact, laid down and fell fast asleep for the entire night. She's never had an ear infection since then.

***

It never fails that when I'm in the presence of children, I see Jesus.

Lord, give me their eyes, their faith so that when they spend time with me, they see you, too.

Released

"I run in the path of your commands, for you have set my heart free." Psalm 119:32

I carried home a small bottle of five ugly caterpillars. For a week they crawled around their tiny home seemingly doing nothing but making a mess and eating their way into a coma. By the second week they'd had their fill and one-by-one, inched to the top of the container suspending themselves by a thin silk thread. Overnight they'd spun themselves into a nice little sleeping bag so, carefully following the directions, I transferred the sleeping critters to a safe house.

I waited anxiously for them to emerge as the colorful, graceful butterflies I was promised they would become. For days, nothing happened. I wondered if I'd done everything properly. Finally, after a week the first butterfly broke loose from his cocoon and stood on the side of the mesh walls, fluttering his wings ever so gently to dry them. Within a few more days, the rest of the butterflies emerged and were feeding on the sugar water I'd provided. They were perfectly formed, looking nothing like the ugly caterpillars I'd first brought home.

As all wild things in nature do, they too demanded their freedom. With great fan fare from my family, we led them outside to release them from their bondage. With a little coaxing the first three Painted Ladies flew gracefully into the blue summer sky. We cheered and waved good bye as they set out on their way to enjoy the bigger world.

The last two, however, wouldn't come out no matter how much coaxing we provided. They held firm to the side of the walls that held them back from the world. We closed the door and gave them another day to ponder the possibilities of flying free.

God stands at the door of our hearts beckoning us toward freedom through his gift of forgivness through his Son, Jesus Christ. That forgiveness opens the door to the heights of heaven, where abundant life flows; where hearts are unburdened and joyful; where bodies are healed and made whole; where people become who God intended them to be from the begining of time.

If we could only imagine what possibilities God has in store beyond our own walls, we wouldn't hesitate one moment to fly free. God's desire is to release us. Are you ready to fly?

Restored

"But now he has reconciled you by Christ's physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation." Colossians 1:22

I walked into her hospital room, like I'd done a few times before, but this time I saw helplessness. She lay in bed immobilized from breaks in three out of four limbs. For the first time I wondered if her life would be restored anywhere close to what it used to be? Trying not to show the panic that tempted to overcome my demeanor I bent over to kiss her, searching for a safe spot, free from injury and pain.

The weeks ahead were slow but through surgeries, therapy and prayer healing came. Her body restored itself to independence and she returned home after a couple of months. But, like the human body does, it accuses us of our past. There's a pain in the hip that comes when weather changes. A couple of fingers don't grip with the strength from before. A persistent limp give evidence of more work needed.

Thankfully, for our spiritual bodies, we're promised full restoration through Christ. In today's scripture Paul reminds us that through Christ's suffering and death of his physical body He has fully restored our spiritual bodies so that God sees us without blemish or reminders (accusations) of past sins (injuries).

This isn't just a promise for our arrival in heaven but it's a promise for today... here and now. If we have been forgiven of our past through Christ, then God sees us fully restored, the way he created us to be from the beginning, whole, holy, pure and perfect.

If God sees us that way now, we need to adopt that same perspective of ourselves (and others) instead of accusing ourselves (and others) of past mistakes and injuries. We need to allow God's healing and live within Christ's forgiveness where we are truly free....NOW.

Rescued

"For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." Colossians 1:13

Held captive by winter, the spring ground of the New Hampshire mountains remained hidden beneath her frozen veil. Darkness was loosening it's grip and the sun lingered a few more precious moments each day. New life was promised but the signs were subtle, barely noticeable to the passers-by.

Trudging out of the cold spring snow, I settled into my gray folding chair near the back of the chapel, grateful for the warmth of the ladies surrounding me. It had been awhile since I'd gone to a women's retreat and I was waiting for God to speak. With great expectation, I waded through the worship music, hoping with each new chorus God would meet me. But he didn't and disappointment crept in.

The speaker took her place center stage and introduced her topic for the weekend, The Names of God. "And tonight, ladies, we'll be looking at his name, 'Abba' or 'Father.'" I took copious notes still listening for God's words meant especially for me but they never came. Instead, I was met with restlessness as I wrestled all night with the thought of the morning's assignment and prayed for God to somehow rescue me. He didn't.

So, I sat in silence in an empty room warmed only by my steaming cup of tea. I opened my journal and penned the title of the assignment in blue ink atop the page. I took five pages to tell God just what I thought of him; how insensitive He was to put me through this painful assignment. I told Him if he were such a loving God He shouldn't be opening this chapter in my life again; the reminder of pain and missed childhood. When I finished ranting, God finally spoke. "Are you done, yet?" he asked. "Now here's how I see (it)." And, I wrote for an hour of how God viewed my experiences through His eyes. And then he left me with a challenge: forgive and offer forgiveness.

That was the beginning of God's rescue of my heart. I'd like to say I was pumped for the rest of the weekend but I can't recall a single thing after Saturday morning. I just wanted to run away and so I convinced the woman I traveled with to leave early.

As we traveled, the New Hampshire mountains gave way to congested highways toward home. Home was full of distractions I hoped would drown out God's challenge. It worked for awhile but by autumn, before the soil of my heart froze solid, God challenged me one more time: forgive and offer forgiveness. And, so I did.

It is with forgiveness we are rescued. It is in offering forgiveness that we gain freedom. It is in love where that forgiveness gives birth to restoration...new life.

Dress Me

"...stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high."

Luke 24:49b

Dressing an infant is no easy task. Their heads flop, their arms droop, their legs kick every which way except the direction they need to go. Seriously, dressing an infant must be like wrangling a steer at a rodeo. It takes time and skill to wrestle them into those street clothes...and my, all those snaps. It's a wonder more babies aren't just allowed to hang in their diapers in public more often.

Then, little bits of time pass and they become a bit more helpful. They hold up their hands anticipating their shirts over their heads. They lift their little legs one at a time into the legs of their Osh-Kosh-By-Gosh's and they demand they be shod so they can play outside. Before long, they're independent of our help, choosing their own outfits (polka dots and plaids...together...on the same body) and clothing themselves without any help from us!

The early church needed to be clothed, too. One of the last instructions Jesus gave his followers before his ascension into heaven was, "stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high" (Luke 24:49). Why? Because they had a mission to do and needed to be dressed appropriately. They were to continue sharing the good news of God's kingdom in Jerusalem and then throughout the world just as Jesus had started. They couldn't do it in their own power, clothed in only their humanity. No, they needed to be clothed from the inside out with the power from on high ... God's Holy Spirit.

Being obedient to Jesus' instructions, his followers stayed in Jerusalem, praying and worshiping God in the temple. As they postured themselves in worship, maybe some raised their hands, waiting to be clothed by their heavenly Father. Finally, on the day Pentecost God showed up. He overwhelmed them with power, placing a flame of fire above their heads and a foreign language upon their tongues. They shared the Good News of Jesus to all the foreigners in Jerusalem, celebrating Pentecost. They went out into the streets, into new lands with boldness because they were clothed with God's power.

As we wait for God's call on our lives or wait for Him to tell us what next step to take on our journey of sharing God's kingdom let us take the posture of worship. Let us raise our hands and pray, "Father, dress me!"

My Bridegroom

"Then he opened their minds so they could understand the Scriptures." Luke 24:45

I love mystery dates. My husband is a very clever, romantic man and he's pulled off a few exciting anniversary dates over the past twenty-six years.

On our tenth anniversary he showed up at my work place announcing himself with a fresh bouquet of flowers peeking around the corner of my cubicle. Attached was a note that read something like, "Will you come away with me?" With an approving nod and a smile from my boss who sat just three seats away, he whisked me away for a romantic dinner and evening alone.

Today we celebrate our twenty-sixth anniversary and he's done it again! He was out of bed long before I was this morning. I thought, "Oh, he must be planning breakfast in bed." But, then I heard the familiar whir of the treadmill from the next room and drifted back to sleep. An hour later my senses were revived with the delicious aroma of a freshly brewed cup of hazelnut coffee sitting on my nightstand. That's my favorite way to wake up! We shared a lovely breakfast and before he left for work he said, "Stand by for further instructions!"

My anticipation was peaked even more. Promptly around noon he called. "You have an appointment at 2 o'clock at the Body & Soul Day Spa. When you're done there, go home and prepare for dinner, wearing that pretty dress I like. Enjoy!"

So here it is twenty-five minutes before my afternoon at the spa and I'm looking forward to a wonderful evening. I don't know exactly what he's planned. I'm assuming dinner at a nice restaurant. A bottle of wine. Candlelight and "our" song maybe even a listening to our taped vows that we've kept all these years. I'm not sure. But, I am anticipating seeing my bridegroom with great joy and excitement.

Shouldn't the Bride of Christ (the church) also be anticipating the appearance of her Bridegroom (Christ himself) with the same joy and anticipation? Lately, I've had several conversations that prove the opposite. I've found most of us looking toward Christ's return with fear and anxiety, especially as Scripture reveals itself in our current events. Christ has chosen to reveal some of what to expect through his teachings as well as through the Revelation he gave to John. However, like he did with the disciples while he was living among them, I think not ALL is revealed. Therefore, there is fear of the unknown. If we believe in Christ as our saviour, should we not then have no fear?

I'm looking forward to celebrating the arrival of my bridegroom this evening even though all the details have yet to be revealed. The check on my heart is, do I anticipate the Bridegroom's return just the same?

Breathe

"But it is the spirit in a man, the breath of the Almighty, that gives him understanding." Job 32:8

I coveted rest as a new mother. Torn between sleep or washing the growing mounds of laundry and dishes, I followed the veteran mothers' advice and chose sleep. At least I tried to sleep. The apartment was quiet except for my son's rhythmic breathing coming from the baby monitor on my nightstand. I heard every inhale, every exhale, every rustle of the covers, every babble, every whimper, even the silence.

The silence was the worst thing because it startled me into complete consciousness. I'd stop breathing myself until he took his next breath. If it didn't come fast enough I'd jump out of bed, rush into the nursery and watch for his back to rise and fall before I was able to return to my own slumber. Finally, desperate enough for sleep, I turned off the monitor and trusted God to watch over my baby and wake me when he cried.

I no longer lose sleep over the silence in the nursery, but rather the cries of my heart.

Two years ago, God gave me a burden to write a book for daughters of divorce as a guide toward the rescue, restoration and release of their wounded hearts through forgiveness. I've written three chapters, sat with two publishers who initially loved the proposal but promptly rejected it, joined a writers' group and rewrote two:three chapters. It was my mission this year to rewrite the proposal, the three chapters and work on completing the manuscript. But, life took many detours and it hasn't worked out the way I had envisioned.

Now, I find myself outside of heaven's door listening for God's rhythm. I question, "Are you still there, God? Are you breathing?" I take a deep breath and hold. Time passes. Writing is hard. Words won't come. My face turns blue.

"Breathe!" God says. "Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out."

I catch God's rhythm. Clarity comes. More lessons learned. Wisdom comes. More words are birthed. The goal is no less but the journey is in step with the rhythm of God's breath in me.

Cabin Scent

"Show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet and your face is lovely." Song of Solomon 2:14b

Wielding a crowbar and hammer I dismantled the mud room down to the original wood siding. It was an exhilarating experience to finally be rid of the ugliness I'd become accustomed to for twenty years. With all the white-washed, cedar clap boards removed, the weathered insulation discarded and the dirty, worn rug tossed onto the back lawn, a beautiful, familiar scent invaded my senses. Camp!

Taking a deep breath, my mind's eye brought visions of summer camp into focus: campers loaded with suitcases and sleeping bags trudging through the wooded, dirt paths toward their designated rustic, wood cabins; new friends and reuniting with old friends; camp food, silly songs, snack shack, craft shack, lake-side swimming, cute boys, hopeful hearts, thunderstorms, humid days, chilly nights with bonfires and chapels. Camp meant two weeks away from home, enveloped by the natural world, drenched in God's presence. Away from the normal routine, camp was the place where my heart-changing decisions were made. It's where I allowed God to pull off my old facade of white-washed clap boards and expose the beauty that laid beneath the ugliness I'd become accustomed to.

As these precious memories lingered around me, I considered leaving the mud room in it's natural beauty and rustic camp cabin scent. I looked at the walls again and there I saw the water stains, the nail holes, the rough finish and splinters; all wounds left behind from one source or another. Then God whispered to my heart, "There's much more beauty to be added. Just as I exposed your natural beauty, who I created you to be, you were not meant to be left with gaping wounds. Only in the healing of your wounds are you able to find true beauty."

I look forward to a new door, clean tile flooring, and the scent of freshly painted walls. It's the same room with a new beauty and a better purpose... just like my life.

Lost

"There is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed and nothing concealed that will not be known or brought out into the open. Therefore, consider carefully how you listen. Whoever has will be given more; whoever does not have, even that will be taken from him." Luke 8: 17-18

Lost. I wasn't an avid follower of this series until the fourth season. I couldn't understand what all the hype was about at first. I mean, how much could you write about being stranded on a deserted island that hadn't been written already? I'd grown up watching Gilligan's Island. Silly and quirky at best. I'd been intrigued by Tom Hanks in Cast Away, but the dialogue was less than captivating and the story line predictable. So, a few summers ago my husband brought home the first season of Lost from our local library. I only agreed to join him out of sheer boredom from watching network reruns.

After the first episode I was hooked! It drew me in. It was thrilling. It was humorous. It was mysterious. It made me think. It made me listen carefully. It made me wonder, "Who would I be? What would I do? How would I react?" It made me search for myself and for the truth in every episode. It was good storytelling. Needless to say, I spent the rest of the summer catching up on the plot and come winter I was baited for the fourth season to start. January couldn't come fast enough.

I think it was that way with following Jesus, too. I mean think about it. Jesus drew people in. He made them think. He did thrilling things. He spoke of mysterious things. He made them look at themselves. He was a good storyteller. But Jesus didn't tell stories for the sake of stories. Instead, he revealed truths of God's kingdom. And, like all good story tellers, Jesus didn't spell out the truth but made people search for it behind his words.

Nearing the end of the Lost series, more and more truths of the plot were revealed. It was imperative to listen carefully in order to piece the truth together from what was previously foreshadowed. Although the producers offered narrated "crib note" episodes prior to the new ones, the thrill of having "lived" out the story from the beginning would be (dare I say) lost.

Unlike Lost, Jesus' kingdom truths have lasting value and he warns the listener. He says if you listen and hear (understand) his truths, then you must also act on them otherwise the truths that you've learned will disappear (be taken from you). In other words, Jesus did not intend us just to hoard up his words like hidden treasure but he meant for us to share our treasure with others thereby multiplying what he has given.

There's just something about a good story. We listen and identify. We gain understanding and hope. We are ignited to act and revel in the victory.

What truths has Jesus revealed to you? What 's the Kingdom story that Jesus is trying to tell through you? Has He rescued your heart? Has he restored you somehow? Has he released you into ministry?

Story instills hope for us all. Please feel free to share what God's been doing in you and through you.

Mommies

"The Twelve were with him, and also some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases: Mary (called Magdalene)... Joanna the wife of Cuza, the manager of Herod's household; Susanna; and many others. These women were helping to support them out of their own means." Luke 8: 1-3

When I was a toddler, if you asked me, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" the answer was always, "A mommy." In fact, my answer never changed throughout my childhood. I spent endless hours with my baby dolls. Dressing them. Rocking them. Singing to them. Feeding them. Changing them. Loving them. I'd talk to them as though they were real. My heart was happy just carrying them around playing "mommy." If truth be told, I played with dolls until I was in middle school. I snuck them into my purse in sixth grade (those were the years before backpacks) and secretly "checked on them" (played with them) during the bus rides to and from school.

By seventh grade, my dolls were packed away in boxes but my heart to nurture remained. So did the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" In fact, the older I became the more frequently I answered that question. By the time I graduated high school in the late 1970's, the climbing divorce rate and feminist movement played a significant role in how my answer changed.

My family landed in the pile of divorce statistics of single, working moms and latch key kids. I learned by living my family drama that my nurturing heart may have to settle for being more than "just a mom" because, as I was told, "you never know what life may hand you."

The media screamed of women's rights, equal opportunity, equal pay all around me. If a woman wanted to be a brick layer, then so be it. I scratched my head and wondered, "Why would they WANT to be a brick layer?" My heart kept asking, "What's wrong with wanting to be a mommy?"I learned it was no longer an acceptable answer to that unceasing question so I entered college seeking training for an "acceptable" career.

Jesus started his own feminist movement. To welcome women into his fold of disciples, in a man's world, was breaking barriers ages old. He not only welcomed them but honored them for their support as he and the apostles shared the Gospel from town to town. We're not told exactly what they did but we do know these women supported Jesus and the Twelve "out of their own means." In other words, in whatever way they were gifted to help they offered that as a ministry.

So, how does that fit with my story?

I celebrated my twenty-fifth college anniversary this summer. I'm all grown up with a college degree in communications and christian education but I've enjoyed being a wife and mommy the most. The experiences and friends I've gained from those years are priceless, but to have sought an "acceptable" career rather than what God created me to be was costly. It cost me and my parents a ton of cash. It cost me heartache when I couldn't find success and satisfaction in my jobs. It cost me my health when I wouldn't go where God was leading. It cost me guilt when I enjoyed serving my husband and children full time. It cost me time.

Jesus didn't call all those women into ministry demanding they change how they were. All he asked was they have a repentant heart and follow him. He didn't change who God created them to be instead he called it out of them. Who they were and what they could provide was exactly what Jesus' ministry needed. Who we are as women (homemakers or career women) and what we can give out of our own means is exactly what God needs today.

God's Riches

"Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share." 1 Timothy 6:17-18

The phone rang, interrupting my typical home day care scene. I left the little group of three-year old boys playing cars on the living room floor, picked up my one-year-old daughter and balanced her on my right hip and answered the phone.

"Hello," I answered cheerfully.

"Hi," my husband choked back.

"What's wrong?" I asked with eyes shut tight as if to wish away the bad news I was about to hear.

"They let me go."

The details didn't matter. The fact remained, our main source of income was gone. We were headed to a bad place and there was nothing either of us could do to stop the journey.

The economy was much like today's with few jobs and a flooded market of unemployed people. I kept the day care running by day and worked part time at night for awhile. In between job applications and interviews, my husband mowed lawns, did odd jobs, did whatever he could to bring in money.

The journey was wearisome. We wondered if it was ever going to end. On the worst days, I wondered if we'd have to give up our house. Remember, the house that God gave us? (see blog entry June 3, 2010 A Good Gift). Would I give it up? Could I give it up for the sake of my family? Would God ask me to do that? I certainly didn't want to entertain such a thought. My home was a precious gift to me; a gift that spoke to my heart and brought me great pleasure. It was home.

Two and a half years passed before my husband found steady employment. Every month the bills were paid, including the mortgage. It was a relief to know that journey had ended but much was learned of God's faithfulness and generous spirit. Not only did God provide for our every need to sustain us but he provided those things to bring us joy.

There are so many today that are on this same journey. Take heart. It will end. Know that God does provide fully, generously. His resources are limitless. Buckle up and see where God leads you on your journey.

Say The Word

"But say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority." Luke 7:7b-8a

In my fourteen years of working outside of the home, only once did I encounter a boss who exuded authority. Certainly, they were individuals who held positions of authority over others but they did not gain the respect of their subordinates as persons with authority. For some, it was because they lacked the experience or education their position required. For others, it was due to poor communication skills. There were those who lacked authority because they were easily intimidated by their subordinates. And even still, those who were so prideful that they showed little respect for either their superiors or their subordinates so their authority was undermined from above and below. How any of these people gained their titles of authority remains a mystery to me even today.

The authority Jesus held was a great mystery to many "holy" people (pharisees) of His day. Maybe because Jesus threatened their position in the church? But, those outside of the Jewish faith "got it." In Luke 7:1-10 we have the story of a Roman centurion (commander) who's servant is sick. He's been watching Jesus and knows He carries the authority of Heaven that will heal his servant. So he sends his servants to ask Jesus a favor. At first glance we think his request is just simply a request for healing but when we look at how he asked Jesus for this healing we get a glimpse at the heart of this man.

We know he's humble because he prefaces his message with "Lord, don't trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof." In other words, "You're God's son. Who am I to even ask you to enter my home?" Even though he exudes authority because of his post in the Roman guard, he knows that God's authority is even greater.

The centurion has great faith in Jesus' ability to heal his servant, "SAY THE WORD and my servant will be healed..." He aligns his request with his faith. He knows that God's authority through Jesus to heal his servant transcends place and time.

He recognizes from whom Jesus gains authority, "For I, myself am a man under authority..." What the centurion did was not only recognize Jesus' authority but he recognized that Jesus was UNDER authority. God's authority. Not only was Jesus able to restore life and health to those in need but He did so ONLY under the authority and direction of His Father. This statement stops Jesus in his tracks. Jesus turns to the crowd and commends the centurion not only for his faith in Jesus to heal his servant but for understanding where His authority came from.

This is key for those who follow Jesus because Jesus has given us the same authority that God gave Him. "I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father" (John 12: 12-13).

It's important that we get this right. If we believe we're here on earth for a God-given purpose then we must check our hearts to make sure we are an example of godly authority. People will want to follow someone who is humble, who submits to authority themselves, who commends others for a job well done and who is confident, assured and bold. We need to be God's people that others turn to and say, "Say the word and it will be done." Not for ourselves or our own egos but so others will know that God has worked through us.

Why Pray?

"Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed."

Luke 5:16

Closed eyes, bowed head and folded hands. This is the posture of prayer I learned as a child from my mother at bedtime . It's the posture depicted in the serene water-colored paintings of praying children hanging in childhood nurseries or Sunday school rooms. I never questioned why prayer had to look like that. It just did. I never questioned why I was taught to pray. "It's how we talk to God," was the only reason I needed.

Prayer has been part of the Judea-o-Christian faith from the time sin entered the world. Prior to that, Adam and Eve could speak face-to-face with God. In the gospels, even Jesus had to pray in order to talk to God, and he was his son.

So, why pray? I mean, besides it being the means of communication with God or just the thing to do because that's what we were taught as children, why do we pray?

Luke paid attention to Jesus' prayer habits. In Luke chapter five, Jesus' ministry was spreading. He spent long days with growing crowds of people teaching, preaching God's word, and healing the sick. I can imagine he felt pretty spent after days like that. Luke tells us in verse 16, "But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed."

What do you think Jesus prayed about in those times? What do you think he asked his Father for? Maybe he felt overwhelmed and needed encouragement to carry on his ministry. Maybe he was burdened by all the brokenness knowing full well the creation he spoke into existence was far from what it should be. Maybe he was looking for his Father to carry some of that burden. Maybe he just sat in silence, listening for the familiar words of his Father to feed and empower his spirit after an exhausting day.

The second reference to Jesus' prayer life is in Luke 6:12-13. "One of those days Jesus went out into the hills to pray, and spent the night praying to God. When morning came, he called his disciples to him and chose twelve of them, who he designated as apostles..."

Here we see Jesus retreating, alone to talk with God about an important decision. It was one of the most important decisions in the history of the world-wide church as we know it today. Jesus needed to choose which of his disciples he could entrust to carry out his mission on earth once he was gone. Who could best carry out the Gospel, the good news to the rest of the world?

We know Jesus wrestled with this because he went away from the chaos of life and prayed all day and all night. He didn't throw up a quick prayer. He didn't go by his hunch. He didn't consider who liked him the most. He only chose those whose hearts were searched by God. He not only talked to God but he listened.

In our own lives and especially in the busyness of our ministries (in and out of church) how many of us retreat? How many of us specifically go to the lonely places (an empty room, a secluded spot in the woods, at the beach, wherever) to seek God's opinion and direction?

If we're honest, most of us would say we don't. I know we retreat away from the crowds. But, our retreating usually entails a large, flat screen T. V. or a good book. Or, if we do find ourselves completely alone, in a quiet room we fall asleep and our prayers become incoherent mumbles.

While all these forms of retreating are okay to rest the body and mind they're not effective prayer habits. There's no conscious communication, no give and take between us and God. We need to remind ourselves to take conscious steps toward God in silence, away from the din of activity and follow Jesus' example of prayer. "Jesus often withdrew to lonely places to pray."

Believed Yet Have Not Seen

"Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."

John 20:29

A visit from an angel. A miraculous conception. A leap in the womb. A virgin birth. Words of the shepherds. Gifts of the kings. Prophesies spoken. More fulfilled. Wisdom beyond years. A sinless son.

Even so, Joseph and Mary still could not comprehend who their son, Jesus, was or what His mission was about. They saw him, heard him, touched him, smelled him, tasted his salty skin and still they wondered, pondered, treasured, marveled at the words others spoke of Him and the words Jesus spoke of himself.

Is it any wonder, then, that those of us who've never seen or touched Jesus in the flesh, or had a close encounter with and angel, have difficulty believing who He is? Is it so surprising that in our feeble faith we wrestle with the idea that God has a purpose for our lives? Is it any wonder that we spend more time pondering the words God speaks into our hearts than actually believing their truth? Why do we marvel when God does the miraculous? Shouldn't we expect the inexplicable from God?

There always seems to be more questions than absolutes in our faith. Yet, the facts remain and have stood the test of centuries: Jesus is the son of God. Jesus lived among us in the flesh. Jesus died to defeat sin and death. Jesus was raised on the third day. Jesus lives so that we might live. Jesus waits in heaven to return for those who have not seen, yet have believed.

Grandmas with Cameras by Sally Dube

A family friend of the Aldrich-Bardon crew has wordsmithed a great poem based upon a recent photo at our granddaughter's birthday. With her permission I've posted it here in my blog and dedicate it to all the proud grandmas out there. Enjoy!

Grandmas with Cameras
by Sally Dube

Something happens to most mothers

When they are old (but still quite young =)

Their children grow up, marry

And have a daughter or a son!

This baby is the sweetest

That on earth they’d ever seen

Now that Mother has a new name

She’s now “Grandma” her ultimate dream!

She rocks and sings that little one

Her heart filled with so much love

She never knew how blessed she’d be

By this bundle sent from above.

Her camera never leaves her hand

So not to miss that smile

For this baby IS the cutest EVER

So lots of pictures in a short while

Laughing, crying, sleeping, yawning

Making sure to get each look

Rolling, sitting, creeping and crawling

Why her grandchild should be in a book!

Grandmas with cameras are a special breed

Never missing a photo op

With a flash and a snap and a “say cheese”

Their pictures just don"t stop =)

~

Thank-you Sally for your precious gift of words!

Love,

Dawn (Grams) and Juanita (Mammie)

Whispered Truths

"But when he, the Spirit of Truth, comes, he will guide you into all truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears and he will tell you what is yet to come." John 16:13

I've always thought of myself as a good judge of character. It's usually pretty easy for me within a few minutes of meeting someone new to figure out the truth about them. I feel it in my gut. But sometimes, figuring out the truth about myself is not so easy.

The truth of who I am may be hidden by the shouts of false accusations by repeated offenders in my life, or the history of past failures, or the whispers of the Enemy. You may share some of the lies I hear: you're unlovable, unworthy, discarded, invisible, orphaned, alone, untalented. All of these are lies. Why then, are the lies so believable and the truth so difficult to find?

The secret lies in whom we choose to listen to; to whom we will our lives; on whom we focus our attention.

When we make a conscious decision to ask forgiveness of our sins and follow Christ, the Bible says we are a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17). Whatever we'd done in our past is past, forgotten by God. But how do we make our minds forget the past? We can't. The historical record is imprinted forever. So, use it and learn from it. But, we can ask Christ to renew our minds and our hearts so that they agree with what God sees as truth in us. Romans 12:2 says, "...be transformed by the renewing of your mind." In other words, change what your mind is thinking. How is this accomplished? By focusing on Christ... the Christ in us.

Tonight I sat in a seminar which taught us how to take the negative emotion (the lie) and refocus it from our mind to our will (or our gut) and allow Christ to gain control of that emotion to bring peace. It sounds hokey, I know. But it works. If we refocus our attention from the negative (I'm a failure, unloved and unworthy) toward Christ, He will renew our thinking. Christ will replace those lies with the Spirit of TRUTH... His Holy Spirit. Instead of hearing the shouts of "I'm a failure, unloved and unworthy," the Holy Spirit whispers the words of Christ to your heart. "You're a daughter (son) of the King. You are loved beyond measure and worthy of every good thing."

What we focus on, we become. May our focus be on Christ, the author and giver of life.

Be Careful Little Mouth What You Say

"The tongue has the power of life and death and those who love it will eat its fruit." Proverbs 18:21

Written words are easily edited by their author. They rest on paper or on the screen with cursor flashing. They sit silently while the author reads them over carefully checking for punctuation, clarity of thought, flow and sound. More words can be added or deleted from sight without the knowledge of their intended audience.

Spoken words are rarely edited. They flow like a river from the tongue of the speaker directly to those in the room without much thought. Spoken words are fluid with conversation, emotion and intent. They can never be "taken back," erased, deleted or edited after they are heard. Although they may seem invisible to the eye, they are as permanent as those etched with pen and ink upon the heart of the receiver.

Saturday, nine names stared up at me from my paper. They were the names of nine students who I had the privilege to teach, whose eyes caught mine several times a day, whose ears listened to my stories, whose hands I'd held when they were sad or whose feet followed me around the classroom. Each name represented one life created by God for a purpose and I had to write words that best described that child for their graduation ceremony. These words would not only be written in permanent ink, saved in scrapbooks as part of the child's academic legacy, but they would be read aloud to proud parents, adoring grandparents and to the child themselves. The words I chose would hold the power to speak life into each child or the power to destroy it.

As I wrote, an old Sunday school chorus repeated in my head: "Oh be careful little eyes what you see. Oh be careful little eyes what you see. For the Father up above is looking down in love so, be careful little eyes what you see." This song continued with "be careful little mouth what you say," then "be careful little hands what you do" and finishing with "be careful little feet where you go." As I hummed this silently in my head, I realized that what I wrote about each student would leave a lasting mark on their hearts. My words could influence how they see themselves, what and how they speak to themselves and to others, what they do in life and where they go. I chose my words carefully picturing them through God's eyes; perfectly made and lovable in every way.

Oh yes, they all have their faults. Don't we all? But their Godly potential is woven into every fiber of their being. It only needs to be drawn out and encouraged to thrive. Our tongues have the power to do just that. What we hear spoken aloud is indelibly written on our hearts so, be careful little mouth what you say.

A Good Gift

"If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!"

Matthew 7:11

We moved back home to our sleepy little town when our son was six months old. Our first floor apartment was set at the edge of one of the first suburban neighborhoods born just after the depression era of the early to mid 1930's. Most warm mornings, three seasons a year, I'd buckle our son into his blue stroller and meander up and down the quiet, tree lined streets.

After two years of walking those quaint New England neighborhoods, I'd memorized every house; their beautiful, landscaped yards, their color and unique architecture, even their placement on the street. They were all beautiful but I had my favorite. It was a small, white colonial with a big back yard. It was fenced-in with green hedges with a long driveway on one side and a cute little archway that was attached to the left side of the front stoop that created a double front peak. It faced the southeastern sky so I knew it would be sunny and welcoming most of the day. It was the house I felt I could call home; a place to put down roots and plant our family. It was something I'd never had growing up...a homestead; a place where good memories were made and reminisced.

I always ended our walks at the street directly opposite that pretty white house and pause a moment to take a long look and breathe a simple prayer. "Lord," I'd say, "if you so choose to give us a house, I'd like one just like that!"

When I was five months pregnant with our daughter, we knew it was time to buy a house. Before we could even open the ads in the newspaper, an acquaintance had a house for us to look at. It was her elderly mother's home. She'd lived in it since 1936 (53 years) and she wanted to meet the purchasing family face-to-face. So, with address in hand, I navigated the directions for my husband as we wove through the familiar streets I'd walked every day for two years.

"Okay, take the next left and the house will be the second driveway on the left," I instructed. My husband pulled into the driveway and I looked up from the written directions for the first time.

"Here we are," my husband said cheerfully.

I was speechless. There we were, parked in the driveway of my favorite, white house.

"You okay?" my husband asked trying to figure out why I wasn't getting out of the car.

"This is our house," I finally managed to whisper through tear brimmed eyes. "It's the exact house I've prayed for every day for two years."

We didn't make an offer that night. In fact, the asking price was way out of our price range. But with a bit of negotiating they accepted our offer and within a month we moved into our pretty, white house. It will be twenty one years this November since our house became our home. We've raised two children here and continue to make wonderful memories now with our grandchildren. This pretty white house has truly become our family's homestead.

I love to tell this story because it's a story about God's generous heart towards his daughter. He looked beyond my whispered prayer and into my heart. He could have chosen to bless me with any gift but He chose to give me the best gift; the gift that meant the most to me.

This same God wants to be generous to you, too. He's waiting for you to ask.

Family Cornerstones 4

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" Jeremiah 29:11

The first time I heard this verse was during a desperate phone call to our pastor at two in the morning when my husband had lost his job. These words didn't do much to comfort either one of us that night. We were reeling with raw emotions like anger, anxiety, loss and inadequacy that accompany an experience like this. We had a young family, a hefty mortgage, a car payment and we felt abandoned by our God.

Our world was turned inside out and my husband's self image plummeted fast. We knew in our heads that these words were true but our hearts needed more time. It sure didn't seem like God had plans to prosper us or give us hope, at all. To us, it seemed we were the farthest thing from His mind.

It was difficult to dream of our future those days when we were all consumed with making it through each day, week, month. But, we found out that every day was a new future and God provided for us. Every day we had food on the table and clothes on our back. Every week we paid our bills. Every month we paid our mortgage. Somehow, God not only provided but prospered us.

Eventually my husband found another job...and it closed its doors a few years later. But this time, instead of reeling with raw emotions, we hung onto hope. We knew from the last time that God does make plans for us; plans to prosper us, to give us hope and a future. We knew that God would take care of us. He had something better in store for us like He did before. We chose hope and started dreaming again of what the future might hold.

The journey God's Word took from our heads to our hearts was a difficult one. It was painful. It was repeated. But eventually, we "got it." When our hearts became aligned with God's words, like in Jeremiah, God ignited our imaginations. Our desires aligned themselves with God's desires for us and our future took shape. It was like adjusting the focus on a camera lens. Slowly the world came into focus. What looked blurry and shapeless a moment before was now clear and identifiable.

This last cornerstone stands to remind us that God truly is our provider of every thing (Jehovah Jirah). It stands to remind us that God does hold our future. He plans to prosper us, not to harm us.