Writer Wednesday. . . Um yeah it's Thursday, but I wrote this yesterday honest!!

The name of my Blog comes from one of my favorite books “Stepping Heavenward: One Woman’s Journey to Godliness” by Elizabeth Prentiss.  The book is the diary of a young woman, Katherine, and begins “How dreadfully old I am getting! Sixteen!”  Reading that for the first time as an 18 year old I couldn’t help, but smile. She continues “I determined, in the first place, to begin this journal.  To be sure, I have begun half a dozen, and got tired of them after a while.  Not tired of writing them, but disgusted with what I had to say of myself.  But this time I mean to go on, in spite of everything.  It will do me good to read it over and see what a creature I am.”

I have dozens of journals myself, a few pages written and then nothing.  I could relate to this girl when I was 18 and I can relate to her now.  Writing honestly about who you are is often a terrifying thing.  In this book there’s a glimpse of a girl’s struggles with herself, her struggles with the Lord, her struggles with sin, her struggles with her own longings, her struggles with temptation.  And through all the struggles she faces, she grows.  She grows in wisdom, she grows in character, she grows in her relationship with her God. 

Reading this book over the years I have often found myself, with tears in my eyes, setting it down and thinking I could have written that of myself.  Things like:

“Amelia has been here.  She has had another talk with Dr. Cabot and is perfectly happy.  She says it is easy to be a Christian! It may be easy for her; everything is.  She never has any of my dreadful feelings and does not understand them when I try to  explain them to her. Well!  If I am fated to be miserable, I must try to bear it.”

“’You would not speak to me so kindly’ I got out at last, ‘If you knew what a dreadful creature I am.  I am angry with myself and angry with everybody and angry with God.  I can’t be good two minutes at a time.  I do everything I do not want to do and do nothing I try and pray to do.  Everybody plagues me and tempts me.  And God does not answer any of my prayers, and I am just desperate.’”

“I came away; and all the way home I fought this battle with myself, saying, ‘He loves me!’ I knelt down to pray, and all my wasted, childish, wicked life came and stared me in the face.  I looked at it and said with tears of joy, ‘But he loves me!’ Never in my life did I feel so rested, so quieted , so sorrowful, and yet so satisfied.”

“It has seemed to me for several days that it must be that I really do love God, though ever so little.  But it shot through my mind today like a knife that it is a miserable, selfish love at best, not worth my giving, not worth God’s accepting.  All my old misery has come back with seven other miseries more miserable than itself.  I wish I had never been born!  I wish I were thoughtless and careless like so many other girls of my age, who seem to get along very well and enjoy themselves far more than I do.”

“The truth is the journey heavenward is all uphill.”

“It is high time to stop and think.  I have been like one running a race and am stopping to take breath.  I do not like the way things have been going as of late.  I feel restless and ill at ease.  I see that if I would be happy in God, I must give Him all.  And there is a wicked reluctance to do that.  I want Him- but I want to have my own way, too.  I want to walk humbly and softly before Him and I want to go where I shall be admired and applauded.  To whom shall I yield? To God? Or to myself?”

“Yes, I have prayed, and he has heard me. I see that I have no right to live for myself and that I must live for Him.  I have given myself to Him as I never did before and have entered, as it were, a new world.  I was very happy when I first began to believe in His love for me and that He had redeemed me.  But this new happiness is deeper; it involves something higher than getting to heaven at last, which has, hitherto, been my great aim.”

“The more I pray and the more I read the Bible, the more I feel my ignorance. And the more earnestly I desire holiness, the more utterly unholy I see myself to be. But I have pledged myself to the Lord, and I must pay my vows, cost what it may.”

“Oh I do wish.  .  . that God had given us plain rules about which we could make no mistake”

“The last day of the happiest summer I ever spent.  If I had only been willing to believe the testimony of others I might have been just as happy long ago.  But I wanted to have all there was in God and all there was in the world at once; and there was a constant, painful struggle between the two.  I hope that struggle is now over.  I deliberately choose and prefer God.  I have found a sweet peace in trying to please Him such as I never conceived of.  I would not change it for all the best things this world can give.  But I have a great deal left to learn.  I am like a child who cannot run to get what he wants but approaches it step by step, slowly, timidly- and yet approaches it.  I am amazed at the patience of my blessed Master and Teacher, but how I love His school!”

I could probably go on copying quotes from this book for hours, but then what would be left for you if you decide to read it yourself?  The encouragement for me in reading this book has often been learning that I am not alone in many of the thoughts that fill my head.  I’m not the first person who has dealt with doubt, pride, selfishness, fear, anger, loneliness.  .   .  All of those struggles have not only been faced by others on this journey heavenward, but there has been victory over all of these.  I am thankful for the honesty in these pages, even though it is a work of fiction, there is a reality in the thoughts recorded that I believe must have come from the author’s heart.

27 Bouquets

Picture this.   .   . The screen opens up to a lovely reception hall. The camera pans across the room, bright silver centerpieces.  .  . delicious wedding cake.  .   . laughing guests.   .   . and after a few moments the camera rests upon the beautiful bride holding a delightful bouquet of flowers.   After a moment the bride turns, counts to three and then tosses the bouquet.  The camera follows it upwards, it arcs, begins its decent into a crowd of reaching hands.  One of the women, ever so slightly hip checks another, and the bouquet is in her grasp, flowers rain over the crowd, her triumphant yell can be heard in surround sound.  This my  friends is the opening scene of 27 Bouquets:  Sequel to 27 Dresses!!

What do you think?  Ok so I’ve only caught 5 at this point, but I have at least two other weddings to attend this year it shouldn’t take too long to get that number up a bit more!!  The thing I love about catching bouquets is you get a guaranteed picture with the bride and a moment to talk to her in the midst of all the reception craziness.  It’s that simple.  I don’t catch bouquets because I believe the magical promise that whoever catches the bouquet will be the next to marry.  I catch them because I want a picture with my friend, and I’m really good at catch!! Plus I can handle all the bouquet catching jokes.  My favorite conversation last night after I caught my 5^th bouquet was someone saying “Hmmm maybe this means you’ll have 5 husbands.” 

Last night I also discovered some women hate bouquet tosses and either refuse to participate or stand as far as they possibly can from the bouquet.  Why do they hate it?  Well because being single at a wedding can be tough.  It can conger up all those fears of “Maybe I’ll never get to do this”, it can bring to mind all those hopes and dreams of their own wedding that hasn’t happened yet.  For some women the bouquet toss is a reminder of their singleness, it puts a spotlight on that part of who they are, and it can open the door for every married person in the place to say “You’ll be next” with a wink of course.

I’ve struggled at times in my life with weddings and some of those same fears and other fears of my own, however last night was not a struggle at all.  I was there to “Rejoice with those who rejoice”, it was a wonderful time not only to see the beginning of a family, but to spend time celebrating with good friends.  I had a woman from the Bride’s family seek me out to explain the cookies I made were just like the ones her Hungarian Grandmother made and tell a few stories of how the cookies brought back memories from her childhood.  It was delightful to meet someone new.   I also got to use my pirate accent in conversation, how often does the opportunity to use a pirate accent come up when speaking with adults? 

Weddings can be dangerous territory for single women, but they don’t have to be.  It is possible to be in the midst of love and romance without being overcome by all those destructive thoughts.  Scripture would not command us to rejoice with those who rejoice if it weren’t possible.  When we can learn to shift our focus from our own fears and worries, it opens the door to incredible joy for others, and even opens up the possibility to dream of the future without rushing it, or being discontent with where we are in life now.  That mystery of being able to hope and long for something while still being content in the state we’re in right now is a great one.  It’s not easy to do, to live with desires for things that may never come, but to willingly submit those desires over and over again to the Lord and to trust that He will give what’s best.

'Cause you had a bad day

Have you ever had a bad day?  Sometimes I have bad days.  A lot of bad days I can point to the things that went wrong, I missed my morning coffee (You saw that one coming right?), the car had a flat tire, I wore my shirt inside out and some cute guy was the first to notice.  Those days when I know why I feel lousy, when I know what went wrong are the easy bad days.  It doesn’t mean I should be upset and frustrated with all the little things that went wrong, but it helps to know how I got there.  If I know why a bad day is bad there’s hope that tomorrow I can do better.  Hope that I can fix whatever it was that went wrong or hope that I can learn to react better to all those outside things that could push me into bad day territory.

Then there are those bad days when nothing went wrong, but it feels like everything did.  It feels like you hit some sort of invisible wall and everything hurts. Every breath takes effort.  Your heart beats too fast and the worst part is you don’t know why.  Nothing is any different than yesterday, but somehow yesterday was full of rainbows and butterflies and today is.    .    . well I can’t think bad enough image to be the opposite of a rainbow.   .  . maybe smelly gym socks. 

On those days I find myself asking “What’s wrong with me?”  Everything was fine and now it hurts to breath.  I’ve found that on those days I remember my weaknesses.  In talking through what I’m thinking and feeling I usually realize that everything wasn’t really fine on the rainbow days.  That invisible wall I ran into wasn’t one that sprang out of nowhere.  It was a wall that was built.  Sometimes it’s a wall of guilt built out of mistakes I’ve made and wicked things I’ve done.  Sometimes it’s a wall of all those little things that I thought I could handle on my own, but really couldn’t.  Sometimes it’s a wall of fears about the future, or now, or the unknown.  Sometimes it’s a wall of worry, worries for the people I love who or going astray, worries for myself.   A lot of things can be used to build walls but eventually I always hit that wall. 

On those bad days instead of asking that question “What’s wrong with me?”, which can often lead to more bricks being thrown in the wall as I decide whether or not I’m hopelessly neurotic, I need to start asking the question “Where did this wall come from?”  As much as I struggle to understand why I feel the way I do there’s usually a reason for it.  Sometimes the reason is as simple as it’s the middle of winter and I miss the sun.  Sometimes the reasons are a bit more complex like “I quit my job and I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life, and I have to move, and I have so much junk, and I might have an interview for a job I really want next week but I don’t know yet, and I need a 50’s dress, and I’m super selfish most of the time and I don’t want to be and .    .   .”

So yeah I hit a pretty big wall, not all the bricks were bad things.   As hard as being an emotional person can be sometimes I’m thankful that tears can be a reminder to stop and to look around at what is happening in my life and recognize that I cannot deal with any of it on my own.  Thankfully I don’t have to deal with it all on my own.  I’ve been promised that the Lord’s grace is sufficient for me and His strength is made perfect in weakness.  I need bad days to remember how much I need His grace for every single breath. 

I know I won’t always have a good perspective of every bad day.  I know I’ll need to be reminded again and again to find out where the wall came from and reminded again to seek the sufficiency of God’s abundant grace. But right now in this moment I’m thankful for bad days, I’m thankful to be reminded of my weakness, I’m thankful for the people God used today to remind me of the blessings in my life, and to tell me not to be discouraged, I’m thankful for all the promises God himself gives, thankful that He is near to the broken hearted, thankful that He hears the cries of His children.  Bad days happen.  Bad days are hard, but they can and will be used for my good even when they are days I don’t understand.  

On the days when I am weary

Lord, you give me peace and rest

When I don’t understand it

You’re still doing what is best

And in my storms and struggles

Let me see your sovereignty

Give me Eyes to see your praises

And a heart that trusts in Thee

Look at this Photograph

In trying to pack up the apartment it has been difficult to know where to start when I still have to live here for another 2 and a half months.  I can’t pack pots and pans I’m still using.  It’s too early to box up dishes, silverware and all the other stuff that is useful in the day to day.  Up to this point I’ve packed up Christmas decorations, some books, and costumes.  All things I won’t need for the next few months and haven’t really noticed their absence.

Today I packed up some things that I don’t need, but already there’s a gap because they are in boxes.  When I first moved here the first thing I did to try and make this apartment feel like home was to hang pictures on the walls.  I also covered the refrigerator with pictures, notes, invitations and magnets and the front door was covered in Christmas cards.  Today the walls are almost bare, the front door is stark white with a few leftover pieces of scotch tape and the refrigerator door is as empty as the first day I walked in here.

I was surprised to catch myself tearing up a little as I pulled pictures from the wall and placed the safely in boxes.  Every photograph means something some make me laugh, some bring tears, some are full of memories from times that have long since passed.  Spending the last few years in this apartment on my own these pictures have been more important than I realized.  They have been reminders that while I may live alone I am not alone in this life.  Having visual reminders of friends and family covering the walls of this dwelling has been a blessing to me.  Being able to look anytime at smiling faces of people who love me has often been an anchor for me during times when I’ve felt lost and alone.

I am ready to say goodbye to this place and I think taking down the pictures that make this feel like home will help me do that.  There have been a lot of good times in this place, game nights with friends, holidays with family, guests in the spare room, prayer and praise nights,  warm cups of coffee shared.  Those are times I won’t soon forget.  Those are times that I will remember with thankfulness.  However there will be good times ahead.  While photographs are wonderful reminders of the people I love I am excited to be going back home.  I am excited to hang pictures on the walls of my room.  I may be giving up my own space leaving here, but I am gaining so much more.

Writer Wednesday

With all the cleaning and organizing I’ve had to do over the last few weeks I have found some interesting things, an orange rotary telephone, history books, a milk carton costume and old class notes and homework.  I haven’t been in school for a while and some of the notes (especially from statistics class) look like Hieroglyphics.  However I did find a creative writing assignment from my Teacher Training class at church and since its Writer Wednesday I figured I would put that old homework to use and post it here.         

 

Slate

Allow me to introduce myself.  The name’s Slate.  Slate P. Schedule to be precise and when you’re in my line of business it’s important to be precise.  My official title is Two Year Planner and I work for a man named Amos O’Brady.  In my pages you can find Amos’ every movement day in and day out from morning ‘till night.  Even his bedtime is scheduled in solid black ink.

 

Amos was until recently very easy to work for.  He wrote each appointment with in my pages and did not deviate from my commands.  On Monday mornings he would get up at 6:00am and prepare for work.  He would be out the door at exactly 7:00am and seated at his desk with a warm cup of coffee by 8:00am.  Amos would then check my pages for his daily duties and complete them without fail.  If at any point he was for some reason required to change events in my pages it bothered him.  You see Amos treasured my input.  I had his life in control and he loved the consistency I provided.  I was for Amos security.  He enjoyed checking off the lists I contained and hated when something or someone kept him from following the schedule he had written in black ink.

 

However, recently all that has changed.  Amos’ loyalties to me have waned over the past few weeks and I will explain why.  You see Amos became a Christian.  At first the changes for me were small.  Amos scheduled Church on Sunday’s.  Amos scheduled prayer time before work and Bible study in the evenings.  At first I enjoyed the added responsibility of holding these new appointments.  Then things took a turn for the worse.  One Thursday at 2:04pm Amos’ new pastor called him at work.  Their conversation went as follows;

 

“Hello there Amos, how are you today?”
“I’m doing well Pastor.  How are you?”
“Just great!  I actually called to let you know that we’re going to be doing some cleaning at the church tonight along with dinner afterwards.  Do you think you can make it?”

               

Now I already knew Amos’ answer to the Pastor’s question.  Inside my pages Amos had the evening scheduled:

 

5:00- Home from work
6:00- Dinner: Chicken Alfredo
7:00- Laundry
8:00- Law and Order
9:00- Bible Study
10:00- Bed              

 Amos O’Brady would not change these plans for anything.  They were written in black ink!  He would tell the Pastor “Sorry my Slate is already filled for the evening.  Maybe I can schedule something like this in the future.”  After all the chicken alfredo was ready to go into the oven and Law and Order was new tonight.  However Amos did something unexpected.  He looked at my page, he saw that unwavering black ink and then tossed me aside.  He said to that pastor,

 “I would love to help.  I’ll be there right after work.”

 I could not believe it.  Amos completely disregarded my orders!  My clearly laid out plans were tossed aside.  The black ink within my pages meant nothing to him.  He chose this spontaneous, unplanned time of fellowship with these people and service to the Lord over his own well thought out, precise, clear and consistent plans.

 That night Amos sat down with me and did something I’ll never forget.  He wrote some word inside my cover that said;

Proverbs 16:9
“The mind of man plans his way.
  But the LORD directs his steps.”

Amos still writes his plans inside my pages, but he no longer uses that unwavering black ink.  Now he writes his plans in pencil and knows the eraser belongs to God.

Wednesday

In starting this whole blog thing I've actually done a little bit of research into how people maintain these things and continue coming up with content that someone, somewhere might actually want to read.  Let's face it not everyday is filled with exciting events that provide endless writing options.  Some days you get snowed in drink coffee, play board games, listen to The Screwtape Letters, watch Netflix and throw boiling water outside to watch it turn into snow.  While all of that makes for a lovely day for me, its probably not that exciting for whoever is out there reading this thing.  Hence the research.  It has come to my attention that the most common fall back for Blog content is.   .   . bum bum bum THEME DAYS!!!


Basically you look at the day of the week you're on and find an alliteration that makes sense and roll with it.  I LOVE ALLITERATIONS!!!  I actually helped plan an event the was called something like The Sensational, Scrabbled ,Singles, Stir-fry, Sing-a-long Soiree.   .   . there may be an S or two missing.


Well today is Wednesday which means we are working with "W",  what to do? What to do? Which "W" word will we do? Will it be wacky, or winsome, witty or wise?  Definitely not  wordless that shouldn't be a surprise.  .   . Oh wait now I'm rhyming that's doesn't start with "W," but maybe since I'm writing anyway "Writer Wednesday" will do.


Ok now that we have a them comes time to define what Writer Wednesday means.  In this Blog I think I will use it to highlight one of my favorite authors.  Since I already mentioned The Screwtape Letters the obvious choice is C.S. Lewis.  Lewis has long been one of my favorite authors.  The Chronicles of Narnia are easily some of the most delightful books I've ever read.  The Screwtape Letters (especially the audio version read by John Cleese) is extraordinarily thought provoking.  I have also over the past couple of years come into contact with his Space Trilogy and loved it especially Out of the Silent Planet.


The best way I can think of to highlight a writer is to post some of their writing  So here are some of my favorite C.S. Lewis quotes.  I hope you enjoy them too!


“Friendship is born at that moment when one man says to another: "What! You too? I thought that no one but myself . . ."”  


“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” 


“I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”  


“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”  


“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”  


“No book is really worth reading at the age of ten which is not equally – and often far more – worth reading at the age of fifty and beyond.”


“A man can no more diminish God's glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word 'darkness' on the walls of his cell.”


“There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it.”    


“The homemaker has the ultimate career. All other careers exist for one purpose only - and that is to support the ultimate career. ”  

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“It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”  


“It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy. "It's you. We shan't meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?"
"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan.
"Are -are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.
"I am," said Aslan. "But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”  


“A silly idea is current that good people do not know what temptation means. This is an obvious lie. Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is... A man who gives in to temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about badness. They have lived a sheltered life by always giving in.”


“Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.”  


“In friendship...we think we have chosen our peers. In reality a few years' difference in the dates of our births, a few more miles between certain houses, the choice of one university instead of another...the accident of a topic being raised or not raised at a first meeting--any of these chances might have kept us apart. But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking no chances. A secret master of ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples, "Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you," can truly say to every group of Christian friends, "Ye have not chosen one another but I have chosen you for one another." The friendship is not a reward for our discriminating and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each of us the beauties of others.”  


“Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one--the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts,...Your affectionate uncle, Screwtape.”


“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”


“Are you not thirsty?" said the Lion.
"I am dying of thirst," said Jill.
"Then drink," said the Lion.
"May I — could I — would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.
The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
"Will you promise not to — do anything to me, if I do come?" said Jill.
"I make no promise," said the Lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
"Do you eat girls?" she said.
"I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms," said the Lion. It didn't say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.
"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.
"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.
"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming another step nearer. "I suppose I must go and look for another stream then."
"There is no other stream," said the Lion.”


And there are so many more that I could post!!!  If you're still snowed in today go ahead and listen to The Screwtape Letters here's the link The Screwtape Letters read by John Cleese

A man can no more diminish God's glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word, 'darkness' on the walls of his cell.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/c/c_s_lewis.html#G9IPrpmudr5ieHI2.99

A man can no more diminish God's glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word, 'darkness' on the walls of his cell.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/c/c_s_lewis.html#G9IPrpmudr5ieHI2.99

Changing Seasons

Well the weather outside is frightful, and a fire would be delightful, but we don’t have a fireplace and it really hazardous to build fires in the middle of the living room.  I don’t think that’s exactly how the song goes, however I think you get the point.  Winter has arrived!!!  It’s been here for a few weeks but today it has truly made its presence known.   After listening to reports of extraordinarily low temperatures throughout the Mid-west, Buffalo has finally gotten in on the action.  The National Weather Service actually declared a BLIZZARD WARNING!!!   The last time that happened was 1993 so this is pretty exciting.

 

Seeing winter in all its glory, feeling wind that is cold enough to hit your bones, being blinded by millions of tiny snowflakes whirling together into a wall of white, and wanting nothing more than to stay in the warmth of home.  All of these things make me thankful that this is only a season.  Winter doesn’t last.  It will remain for a time. Then as it always does spring will come.  The snow that turns the world white will melt away. The green grass and leaves will return.  The icy wind will warm.  The season will end and another one will take its place.  I love that. 

 

I don’t think I would want to live in a place without season. I love knowing that change will come, and as hard and cold as winter can be I love that it makes me more thankful for spring.  That first day when you walk out of the house, smell the air and realize it smells like spring is easily one of my favorite days of the year.

 

It seems like life comes in seasons too.  Some of them are harder than others.  There are times when it can be difficult to see the good in life.  When you look around and only see pain and struggle and darkness.  I’ve had those times.  Seasons like that have sometimes made me wonder, what blessings could possibly come out of this trial?  Many times it felt like that season would never end, that there would never be that moment when I could smell life’s spring again.

 

Yet somehow spring always comes.  Often it hasn’t come in the way I expected, but it has always come.  Thankfully, seasons in life don’t change because I believe they will because my belief falters.  You know those days in deep winter when it’s hard to believe you’ll ever see a tulip bloom again?  Yet they do bloom even when we doubt.  Spring comes because God has promised it will.  Blessings come in my life not because I’ve had enough faith to make them come.  Not because I’ve earned them with my own perseverance in the hard times.  Not because of me at all.  Blessing come because God promised that “All things work together for good to those who love Him”, and I love Him because He first loved me.  Spring comes because He loves me.   

 

I don’t always remember the blessings of the snowflakes, I don’t think about how each of them is unique and beautiful when examined.  A lot of times all I remember is that they are cold.  Yet even on the coldest days I should remember that if I am not thankful for the winter I should be thankful that spring is coming, that spring always comes.  In life it is just as hard to be thankful in the midst of hard times that are so difficult to understand, but those seasons will change too and in the Lord even if I struggle to find the joy in trial I can find joy in the assurance that the trial will one day end.  Even if the season doesn’t end in the way I expect or at the time I expect spring always comes. Someday a spring will come that will last for eternity and yet be forever new.

 

Redeeming the Time

I was told once that I am an expert at wasting time; it was in good context I was entertaining a bunch of kids in the middle of a storm with complete randomness. However the statement was a true one.  I am adept at wasting time.  I am very capable of spending hour after hour doing absolutely nothing of value.  On top of that I almost never get bored.  I am very easily entertained by the most ridiculous things, which is often a great thing; but it means that I don’t always feel driven to do useful things.   Take someone who doesn’t always jump to action, give them an abundance of free time and you have a recipe for potential disaster.

Of course there is another option, instead of wasting the time before me, I can redeem it.  I can use it for good things.  I can use the same creativity that I use to find ways to be entertained by nothing to do things that have substance.  Over the past few years I’ve spent time doing work that I didn’t enjoy, that I wasn’t terribly good at, and often felt that the time was wasted  The main point of leaving that work was to start living a life that is not wasted.  To start redeeming the time I’ve been giving and living each day fully. 

The question becomes what does that look like?  Does it mean I should run out and find ways to save the world?  Does it mean I should fill every waking moment with charitable deeds?  I’m still not sure yet.  I’m still grappling with what a full abundant life looks like for me.  So far today it has looked like some time in the Word,  A few cups of coffee,  a few loads of laundry, packing up Christmas decorations, moving furniture,  cooking a roast, doing some dishes, enjoying an orange cat’s company, catching up on e-mail, sending some texts, checking on my facebook friends and now writing this Blog.  I haven’t saved the world yet, but the day is still young.

There’s a freedom to having so much time before me but I also believe that I have the responsibility to use it well.  Time is a gift, a resource that should be used intentionally.  I’m still working on how living intentionally looks in my life, but it is something I am trying to learn.  It’s not a lesson that I have mastered yet, but moment by moment I’m finding better ways to redeem these days and use them well.