Thankful From A to Z

I've been inspired by the one and only Max Lucado to list some things that I am thankful for-- alphabetically. My hope is that, by passing this along, you will be inspired to do the same thing. Please know that this list is not exhaustive nor is it in any kind of order of priority- just some things that come to mind and start with that letter. Let's have fun this Friday thanking the Lord for just some of the blessings in our lives!

A: Appalachia. Those mountains, Lord. Thank you for making them and for letting me come from them and allowing me to see them from time to time. 

B: Birds. Ok, maybe I mention them too much. So I'll choose one more: Bacon. Perfect salty, smoky, kinda sweet. Bacon like JW fixed the other night. Yeah. Thank You for bacon. And for JW. 

C: Chocolate. Oh, chocolate, you make so many lists in my life. You and your smooth, creamy, comforting goodness. A day without you is like...not sure that I've had one so I really don't know...

D: Dogs. I love dogs. Bouncy, goofy, rambunctious, playful, loyal dogs. They need you and they love you. They want to play with you and protect you. Not many things on earth can boast all of that. Thanks for making dogs, Lord. That was really nice of You.

E: Erasers. Whether it's the backspace key or the rubber tip of a pencil or the prayer of repentance, I am thankful that there is a way that my mistakes can be erased from the screen, the paper, and the Heart that I wounded. He loves me so much he made a way for me to be

F: Forgiven. Praise 

G: God! Being thankful for forgiveness has to be linked directly to God for they go hand-in-nail-scarred-Hand. He is a God of love and forgiveness and He will forgive you if you ask. Trust Him to help you turn away from sin and toward Him. Oh, there it is! The Biggest Blessing!

H: Horses. The perfect animal-world combination of strength and beauty and grace. Want your heart rate to calm down? Watch a horse graze in a pasture. Listen to him breathe. See the breeze flow through his mane. Feel the power of the Creator. Thank you, Lord.

I: Ice. I really love a cold drink. With ice. But I am picky. I really like that pebbly ice like they have at Sonic. They sell it, you know. I haven't bought any but I've considered it for a special time. Waiting for the special time. 

J: Jesus. Of course I'm thankful for Jesus and you all know I am. So I am going add another- jewelry. I like jewelry. I like to see how artists take stones that only could be made by the Hand of God and metals that He made and put them together. I like things created by people who are working to free themselves in oppressive countries and who use whatever they have on hand in order to achieve that goal- and then give all the glory to the One Who inspired them. Jesus. 

K: Kool pops. They made them in the '60s- not sure if they're still around. My favorite was the blue one. It tasted...blue! Frozen sugar water in a flat tube. Snip the end off and run outside. Make sure you shut the door behind you. Be sure to be back by the time the street lights come on. All that. 

L: Laughter. The sound of hearts lightened even if only for a moment. The sound of children so tickled they can barely breathe. The sound of a soul so weathered and wise that the perspective of Truth allows for mirth. The gift of a giggle. 

M: Music. And every sort. Different times call for different types and aren't we glad there are so many combinations of notes to suit every mood? To create an atmosphere? To bring us right back to where we were when we used to sing along with a song on a warm summer night? Roll the windows down, turn the music up, and sing. And give thanks. 

N: Nice people. The kind of people who offer the kind word, the understanding smile. The gentle-voiced people who don't demand, don't take over, and who only want to be pleasant. I'm thinking of so many people right now and thanking God for them. They'd never think they made this list, though. That's just how nice they are. 

O: Owls. Again with the nature, I know, but how can you not be thankful for owls? I've been waking up at night a lot lately and my friend the owl is just outside my window calling out into the night. A voice as soft as his feathers carries across the fields and woods and soothes me right back to sleep. Thank you, fluffy friend, and thanks to your Maker. 

P: Plays. I love going to plays. Loved them from an early age. From the staging to the lighting to the acting and the music-- everything coming together at once to create a moment that needs to be unforgettable (because it cannot be rewound). In this era of the tiniest chip saving the largest memory, it's nice to have a mental image that is unique to my brain's interpretation of actions on a stage. Curtain. 

Q: Quetzalcoatlus. Because once my son chose this animal for a report and we both became fascinated. He marveled at the animal while I marveled at him. Still do. 

R: Red wagons. How much fun can a kid have with a little red wagon? There is no limit. Be honest. If we could we would still pull one around and beg someone to give us a ride. 

S: Sales. Don't you just love to get something for less than you were originally asked to pay? C'mon, saving money is a good thing!

T: Time. I have learned that, aside from the power of healing that God provides, the blessing of time is so very crucial to healing and moving away from hurt. If we rely on God to soften our hearts, He will use time to soften the blow of any pain we have had to endure. Amen. 

U: Uggs. The boots. Yes. Sound shallow? Not when you have a foot that hurts and suddenly it is surrounded by soft, warm fleece that comforts and soothes. Then it only sounds awesome. 

V: Virginia. The birthplace of this nation. The mother of presidents. My home. We have made our mistakes along the way, but no one can deny the role this Commonwealth played in creating and inspiring democracy throughout history. We were and are vital to the success and the very definition of America. 

W: Washers. I am so thankful for that machine. If you've ever been without one for a while, you know. Don't take it for granted just because it is an inanimate object. The Giver isn't. 

X: X-rays. Gracious, I've had so many lately it's a miracle I'm not glowing. How good it is that I am able to lie on a table and allow a doctor to see that my bones are healing properly. Or not. I'm also very thankful that, for the most part, they don't hurt. 

Y: Youth. Whether it is in real time or imagined, youth brings about a sense of bravery, of boldness, and energy. I firmly believe that we can still be youthful even when gaining years and wisdom. 

Z: Zip-up hoodies. The coziest jacket ever. On a chilly fall day- are you kidding? Wiggle yourself in for a cotton hug. And be thankful. 

So there you have it: my list for now. If I were to go through again and again, I could come up with so much more. Because there is infinitely more to be thankful for. Thank you, Jesus. 

Frankenfoot 2: Return of the Pin (because every epic tale deserves a sequel)

You just never know. 

Well, at least I didn't give away the walker. And Aunt Betty's walker bag ( See post from Reflections... )  And the crutches.

And and the shower chair. Because you just never know.  You never know exactly what lies ahead for you. You never know what is going to be helpful in life, and you never know how God is going to use you. 

While walking zombie-like through Bed Bath and Beyond prior to Frankenfoot 1, I came across a shower chair. Lightweight, plastic, and portable. I just felt like I could use it. I felt that there was some way that this was going to be helpful to me in my recovery. So I bought it. I had NO IDEA. This thing. This chair has been crucial to my recovery, but not necessarily in the way you would imagine or in the way it was intended. 

But why am I surprised? Doesn't God use all of us in His own specific way? Even inanimate objects? There are at least 106 references to "stones" in the Bible. The most inanimate object there is. But God chose to use them to illustrate everything from a means of punishment to an altar to a welcoming committee for the King of Kings! (Luke 19:40)

You see, God has a plan for each of us. (Jeremiah 29:11; Psalm 40:5)

For those of you who read this and who do not know me, I'll let you in on a little secret: 
I'm short. Really short. So going up the stairs using the walker or crutches is out of the question. Because really, stairs? With a pin? I don't do stairs well on regular feet, much less one good one and one whose only current function is to hurt and be needy. Last June,  my husband (whom I cannot possibly say enough wonderful things about so just KNOW that he is awesome ) and I developed a plan for getting in and out of the house and up and down the steps. Here's the routine:  I walker to the steps at night, sit down on the second step, and scoot up on my...bum. I have been watching SO MUCH British TV that I feel totally confident using that term. You know what I'm saying here. Scooting up to the top of the stairs, I pull myself up using the railing. 

I have tried the suggested PT ways using a walker or crutches. I even watched a few YouTube recordings. #notgonnahappen 

My stairs, combined with the lack of height, simply do not work. Trust me. 

Once at the top, I sit on the shower stool - yes, the shower stool. It's the perfect height, it's just a little smooth so I can spin, and it is small. I pivot around on the stool (with my back to the long, wooden staircase and all my trust and confidence in my husband),  and then I am able to walker into the bedroom because he has gone up the back steps and has met me with the walker. Hallelujah. 

In the morning, I walker to the edge of the steps, my EVER PRESENT AND BIGGEST HELP EVER HUSBAND takes the walker away, (once again I am facing the open staircase and marveling at my bravery),  and I sit on the shower chair and scoot off onto the step. I sit on the step and scoot/slide/surf down the stars to the bottom, where he meets me and I walker to the sofa. Hallelujah and amen. 

The chair helps us get me in and out of the house as well, and yes, I actually use it for its intended purpose. Thirty-five dollars of the best money ever spent on anything in this house.

 I want to name it and keep it as a pet. Here's its picture. Suitable for framing. 

I know, right?

But one of the most interesting things about the shower chair is this: most of the time I am only using it for a just few seconds. To sit on and twist around, or to sit on to step down. A split second, really, but still so crucial to my day. Using it for this brief moment, though, has allowed me to sleep in my own bed, to brush my teeth in my own bathroom, and to go downstairs in the daytime. Only a few seconds each day in these circumstances, but it has been so very useful. 

So what does that say about us? Are we making every second count? Are we allowing God to use us, even for a split second? The smile at the cash register. Allowing someone to merge in front of you. Saying "thank you." It's easy to think that, just because we aren't in full-time ministry we are somehow less useful to the Lord. We look at the public examples of Christians in our lives and think that we could never be that effective. We aren't on the speaker circuit. We don't have thousands of Twitter followers. Our blogs reach a very selected few. Okay, maybe we won't reach millions of people. But maybe we're not meant to. Maybe we are only meant to reach one. Or maybe that one we reach will reach a few and then, who knows? Because, well, you never know. 

God uses each of us in the way He knows will matter most for Him and for His glory.  And that's enough. Jesus used the one who touched His robe, the messenger who told of His resurrection, and the least likely of His creation: He used the stones. 

And He will use you. Even if only for a brief moment of the day. 

We must pay the most careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away.  Hebrews 2:1

My toe drifted. I had the surgery, did what I was supposed to do, the surgeon did what he was supposed to do, and my toe...drifted. 

When I first noticed the "leaning" I talked it over with the doctor. I remember him telling me,"You have very aggressive scar tissue!" It was said almost like a compliment and as though I had actually had something to do with the internal growth that was now crowding my toes. Maybe I did.

You see, I am good at "scar tissue." I am good at building "walls." Because of some painful things that have happened to me at an early age, I am really good at creating barriers that are very hard to break through. And I can feel it when it begins to happen. 

I feel myself closing off, shutting down.  Granted, sometimes it can be a very good thing. Some of the barriers that I have created have stayed, and will stay, in place. I know they're there for a reason and I am not ready or willing to spend time trying to take down something that is protecting me from pain, heartache, distraction, and emotional destruction. But there are times when we don't want the scar tissue to grow. There are times when we need to be soft, sensitive, and malleable. 

I tried massaging my toe. I tried exercising it, even ignoring it. (that was obviously NOT going to help anything, but I hoped it would just...pop back up) Physical therapy helped a little; the therapists did the best they could.  But any time there is a cut into the skin there is a scar. And that, my friends, is about the extent of what I know about scar tissue medically. I do understand from my own experience, that some people develop really strong scar tissue that can harden and become a real problem. The tissue can take over and undo any positive work that had been done by the surgery. It's as though there is a whole new problem because of the attempt to heal. 

So more work needed to be done to my foot, my scar, in order for it to be properly aligned. A new incision had to be made and thus a whole new wound! "How do you know more tissue won't grow?" I asked the surgeon. I thought it was a very good question. I mean, if I tend to heal rather radically, won't you just be throwing a party for the scar tissue to invite its rowdy friends to come and set up camp in my foot? How then, did the surgeon respond? He had a plan. His plan was to rid my foot of the aggressive, damaging growth and then to have me walking and moving it immediately, therefore not allowing any further development. Up and walking right away. I liked the sound of that. I liked it a lot. 

But then came the pre-op consult. I knew when two doctors entered my room that something was different. Upon reviewing my new x-ray, the decision had been made to insert a rod (they call it a pin) into my toe extending into the foot in order to hold it in place while it heals. The dreaded rod. Again. You see, there was more work to be done on my scar. I couldn't manage it all on my own; I needed the support of the rod to stabilize it. A rod to guide my toe in the direction that it needs to go in. Correction. Guidance. Stability. 

We are all familiar with the many references to the "rod" found in Scripture. The one I always lean on is from Psalm 23:4, "Even when I walk through the darkest valley I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me." The idea of a rod comforting rather than being used for discipline appeals to me very much. So along with the surgery has come several weeks of being non weight-bearing. Granted, this time there are no broken bones, fewer stitches and swelling, and much less pain. But I am still home, out of the loop, not driving, and not doing a million other things. But I am doing exactly what I am supposed to do. I am being obedient.   

For it's sometimes when we are not obedient that we find ourselves drifting. We allow the scar tissue of life to grow and to move us off the path that has been established for us by God Himself and onto a path designed by one who wants you to stumble. The enemy would much prefer you to have no ability or desire to follow God's plan for your life and he will make it seem very desirable to stray from it. 

I had second  thoughts about having this surgery. Doubts about the success of bringing my toes back into alignment. But I had to do it- you see, the one toe was causing the others to lean as well. Because it would be easy to hide behind the scar tissue. I could create a multitude of excuses to keep me from allowing this rod to correct me. But then I would be out of alignment and unable to function fully and with confidence. And because of my mis-alignment, others may suffer. 

So I am here, I am being obedient, and the rod is in its proper place. I learned yesterday that it will be removed soon and that the joint is clean and free of the damaging tissue. And little by little I feel that wall, that barrier, coming down. Just enough to let the light of the Savior shine in and out. Obedience has a way of doing that. 

I have a confession. I have remained silent about something that has been bothering me for some time. I have chosen to not speak up about a topic that has had me concerned for years. I have been silent because the topic is awkward and is evil and embarrassing. But as a child of God, a wife, a mother, a friend, a mentor, and as a women's ministry director, I should speak when I am called to speak and I should speak out loud with the conviction that I feel in my heart. So ladies, I am speaking to you, first here, and then shared on the media outlets that I have chosen. I know because I post this blog on Twitter, Facebook, and Pinterest that there is the chance that men will read it. I have no control over that, but it is my hope and intention that this one will be left to the ladies, for it addresses a topic that is indeed, delicate. If you have ever valued anything I have ever said to you, if you have sought me out for advice, if you have read my writing and have been touched by the words that I have shared with you, do this for me:

Do not go see the movie Fifty Shades of Grey. 

Whether you are thinking about seeing it with a group of women or with your man or by yourself - just don't. Do not believe the lies of the enemy when you think that it is "just a movie." Do not be deceived into thinking that it is all make-believe and that what happened on the screen could never happen in real life or one of the other thousand lies that you will no-doubt encounter - such as the classic one: what happens between consenting adults is ok as long as it doesn't hurt anyone. Well guess what? The topics that this book and the subsequent movie deal with are not of God and they are not what God intended for a holy, ordained relationship, therefore they hurt people. Even innocent movie-goers. 

As you know I often stay away from areas that could be considered "pop-culture." I do joke with my friends and family (especially those younger than I) that I "try to stay current." And I do. I read articles, listen to music, and do what I can to be informed about what is going on in the world; I think it's important to know what's happening so that we can know how to meet needs and what issues we face. I want to know what people are being told so that I can know how to seek God's direction and search Scripture for counters to the counter-culture. God's women are faced with daily bombardment about their appearance, their roles, their sexuality, and I consider it part of my purpose on earth to help them sort out some of this trash and dig deep for the prize which is the Truth of God almighty. I read, I listen, I watch. 
But I know when to draw the line. And I will not read, listen to, or watch this book/movie. I don't need to. 

You may ask, if you haven't read it or watched it, then how can you make this statement? I know enough. I know what it is about, and I know that the kind of actions and behavior that takes place is not what God intended when He created me in His image. It is filled with sin, and sin is wrong, in case you forgot. Sin can seem exciting and enticing and intriguing and that's exactly what sin does- that's why we are lured toward it. We are prone to sin and therefore we are weak and able to fall. So do you think that seeing a movie that is based completely on sin would be a good idea? Do you really think that you would come out of the theater unblemished? 

You may be reading this and thinking, "Why is she going on about this? Who would go see this movie? Certainly none of my sisters in Christ!" You'd be surprised, dear sister. 

I am linking an article from the Lifeway Christian Resources women's ministry page to this page of my own. I urge you to read this article and then pray for God's direction in your life regarding all the social media, cultural influences, and so-called forms of entertainment that are prevalent in our world today. 


Lifeway Christian Resources


Please feel free to contact me if you have any questions or concerns regarding this or if you challenge my opinion. I'd love to have the opportunity to explain to you why it's so important that we stand strong as women who can look ourselves and our daughters in the eyes and know that we have made the right choices and we have treated ourselves and each other with respect. It's up to us to carry ourselves with the dignity that God has given us and to be able to know without a doubt that we have honored Him with our bodies and our minds. Because if you and I don't respect ourselves first, who will? 

As I write this, there is a red-tailed hawk sitting on my roof. Now it's nothing unusual to see, hear, and experience hawks in southern Chesapeake. They're everywhere in these parts, and I am thrilled. In fact, it's just about the most appropriate high-school mascot there is around. I've always loved birds of prey- from the small American Kestrel to the Harpy Eagle- and every owl in between. But right now, as I am writing, there is a hawk right on top of our roof. 

I spotted him from the kitchen earlier this morning. My husband had already seen him in the neighbor's yard, but my first glimpse was when he (or she) was sitting on the rail of the firewood rack. I wanted to get a picture of him, but I didn't want to walk away from my view. I was so happy he was there- I just was enjoying the thought that he took up a little residence in our yard. 

But it is early in the morning and I also require coffee. So while refilling my cup and listening to the unmistakable call of a Red-tailed Hawk, I realized he was on the wing. 
(Click here if you want to hear the call. http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/red-tailed_hawk/sounds)  Darting through the kitchen barefoot on Frankenfoot, I went back and forth from window to window to see him- hoping that he was getting his breakfast as well. 

No, he just flew to the top of my house. I can tell because he is still calling to his mate. How wonderful! I suddenly feel so protected, so special. The feeling that there is something over me that is strong and fast and majestic gives me a sense of comfort and position. This bird can see eight times better than we can. Guaranteed that whatever we are seeing currently, he has already seen it and evaluated it as a threat or not. Snake slithering up? No problem- he's got it. Field rat? His snack. On it. All the animals that could pose a threat are his for the taking. This bird is extremely territorial. It mates for life and will do whatever is necessary to protect its family, even sacrificing its own life to save the lives of those it protects. 

As people drive by, I wonder if people are noticing this great bird on my house. Some won't. They're busy navigating the curves or just getting to their destination. They're just too busy to take the time to look. Some will notice, but they won't recognize it as a hawk. They'll mistake it for a vulture or a large crow. But I hope some others who go by will take a look and see what I feel: there is something special happening over here.

Of course, you know me by now. You know I am seeing the Big Picture here. You know I am praising my God Who is over my home and my life even now. You know that He offers me protection, comfort, security, and life forever. You know that my hope is that someone will take one look at my life and know that there is Someone over me that makes me...different. 

But unlike the scene with the bird on my roof, it isn't up to the other person to recognize it. It's up to me to show it. 

So I pray today that whatever I say, whatever I do, whatever I am, will only draw attention to the One true God and that others will always see Him over me. 

Fly on, majestic hawk, and glorify the One Who made you. 

In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:16

You have worth. 

Let me repeat myself. You have worth. 

We really don't dwell on that much as Christians. We're busy trying to be humble and be last so we'll be first and decreasing and everything. Please don't be offended: nothing is wrong with any of that! And don't think my casual approach makes me any less reverent. I know Who is in control of my life and I give Him ALL the honor and praise.

But I have a message for you: You have worth. 

Recently I was looking at the stars with my husband. I shared with him how I feel when I gaze up at the vast display of stars, planets, and beyond. Most people say they feel small and insignificant. Not me. I feel...special. I know that God created the heavens and He numbers each star. I know He set the planets in motion and that life as we know it hinges on the balance of the spinning and orbiting and perihelion and aphelion and all the other terms that we have used to describe what is really happening: God is in charge! And guess what- He made me. Me! In His image. How could I feel small when I'm a part of something so huge and important as being created by the God of the universe? 

As always when I ponder the nature of God, I am reminded of the great lengths He went to in order to create everything that surrounds us. I've already written about the beauty of nature, but it bears a little repeating: He made it ALL. The birds, the flowers, the trees, the mountains, the oceans-- all of nature is there for me to enjoy and to care for and to use for my nourishment. And I get to experience it every.single.day.

But wait, there's more!

He knew that I couldn't possibly live life according to the rules (ten little rules, all logical and kind) so He did what I cannot even imagine doing. 

He sent His one and only Son to die in my place and pay every price for the sins that I was going to commit. 

He would have gone to the cross, even if it had only been my sin. That's how much He loves me. 

Now tell me-- does that sound like something you would do for someone who had no worth at all? 

I know that I did nothing- absolutely nothing- to earn His love and His mercy. Nothing. In fact, I have done everything to seemingly make Him want to turn away. But He has never done that, nor will He. 

Because He loves me. 

He doesn't care what kind of clothes I wear. He just wants me to have clothes. 

He doesn't care what kind of education I have. He wants me to seek Him. 

He doesn't care what I look like. He only wants me to look like Him. 

He doesn't care how old I am. He has numbered my days. 

He doesn't care if I just finished sinning. He's just glad I finished. 

And if I am right smack in the middle of sin? He's sad and He wants it to stop.   

Because He cares about ME. He cares about my heart. 

And He loves me anyway. 

And He always will. 

So the next time you allow the enemy to invade your mind and to place doubt about your worth, tell him to back off. You were created by the God of the universe and He makes no mistakes. Call on Jesus to rescue you from the sin you are in and be sincere. Mean it. He will charge into your life like an army and there will be no room for sin or fear or hatred. Only love and compassion and mercy and about a million other amazing feelings will fill your wounded heart. 

Know why? He loves you. And because of that, you have worth. 

Romans 5:8 But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. 

Matthew 10:31 So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. 

I never expected this. 

The first time I received a phone call from a sister in crisis who was requesting prayer, I thought she had mistakenly called me and that in reality she meant to call my mother-in-law. She's the one with the wisdom and godly stature. Surely the Holy Spirit hasn't led this poor woman to me-- for advice. 

In the days, and months, and years that have followed I have had many people, men and women, seek my counsel. To this day I do not know why. I have no degree. No credentials, per se. I have never sought out anyone for that specific purpose- only as one would seek out someone hurting to offer prayer and love. Yes, my heart is burdened for those in crisis. Lord knows, I have been there. Maybe not exactly where each one of them has been, but I have been at the bottom. I know pain. 

I also know Him. 

But I never expected this. 

Looking at those two sentences, though, I should have seen it coming. He has painted the picture of my life to lead me to this very day and for such a time as this. Everything I have ever been through and everything I have emerged from has given me the "degree." My Bible holds all the credentials I need in order to help the women God leads to me. For He has also gifted me with discernment to know when something is beyond what I am capable of. I will not try to take on anything that He has not equipped me for, please know that. I am not a counselor. 
I am a friend. A sister. A daughter. A wife. A mother. I am a Christian. 

Jesus is right there with us in the middle of the unexpected. 

As a women's ministry director I thought I would be planning events, attending and teaching Bible studies, and going to hear gifted women tell me about how Jesus worked in their lives. 

Christ-centered parties with cute themes, kits of Bible studies (complete with the answers in the back of the leader guide) , and, (slight shudder) teas.  
That's what I expected. 

I never expected this.


I have often found that most of the people who come to me with burdens really only want to share them. Very seldom are they really asking for direction or instructions; rather, they need to hear love spoken to them in a soft voice. They need to be able to cry, to be angry, to be confused, and to be honest. They do not need judgment or criticism. And they need Jesus, but not Jesus preached to them- rather Jesus shown to them. 

I have sometimes wanted to have a sort-of forum at church; one where some of the ladies on our leadership team actually share a little about how they grew up or where they came from. Mostly about what they came through. You see, most of us have come from some very dark places. To look at us you would think that we all had great parents and sweet, neat little homes and we went to church every time the doors were open. You'd think that we were all skilled in Scripture, could sing the most beautiful hymns, and had countless covered-dish recipes at our fingertips. You would be wrong. 

We are all sinners. 

Before we can begin to conquer any of the wrongs that have been hurled at us, we have to accept the responsibility for our own actions that sent Jesus to the cross. Our sins put Him there. My sins. Not just the ones that we are trying to recover from- we cannot begin to heal until we confess all of our sins to Him and do our best to make things right with those we have wounded. We have to have that focus first. 

Once we remember that we have sinned, that we are responsible for Jesus' death, then we can claim the joy in the resurrection! We can call on Him for the strength and guidance and love that only He can provide and the healing that only comes from a loving and merciful God. For it's because of His mercy that we are forgiven; so we have to accept the forgiveness that He gives and then we see so clearly how we will be able to begin the journey to forgive others. 

Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.  Ephesians 4:32 NLT

But honestly, I really never expected this. 

Jesus took a sunny, smiling child who endured the pain of abuse, neglect, fear, and deception and led her to Himself. He filled her with His Spirit and began to work in her.  He began working in me, I mean. He knew all along the plans He has established for me and He allowed me the true privilege of learning His Word as it applies to life. I was never meant to be a Bible scholar. I cannot debate doctrine or lead you through a historical account of the kings and the wars and the famines. But because of His work in me I can do my best to offer you His love during a dark time. 
Glory to God!

It is sin that we all have in common. It is Christ Who sets us apart. Let us dwell on Him and abide in Him and know that He is right there, even and especially in the unexpected. 

I met New York in March of 1977. I was on a high school trip to participate in the Model UN. It was during the Beame administration and the city was rough, dirty, harsh, and amazing. 

The cabs looked like this then. The best cab look ever. 

I had been through a lot in the recent years , particularly for a high-school kid. All of the conflict, the sadness, the anger, the fear- it was all absorbed by this city that was bigger than my life and my problems. It was the first place I had ever been that made me forget what I had come from. And what I had come through. I hated to leave but I knew I would come back. Somehow. 

After three years of marriage I finally managed to talk JW into going. It had been almost 10 years since I had been and I was in need of sharing my love for NY with him. I couldn't wait! I had shopped for some new clothes for the trip just so that I wouldn't look like I stood out as a tourist. 

Allow me to stop here for a moment to clarify something. I only consider myself a tourist in places that I visit infrequently and that I do not love. I am a visitor in places like New York, the Blue Ridge, and Williamsburg. In Cooperstown I am a future resident. I will walk confidently with a camera in hand and still be able to offer directions to poor, confused tourists who don't know uptown from downtown. 

So off we went on our first trip together to New York City. I wanted to share all the joy of the city with JW and he was certain we were about to be mugged. We stayed at the Edison, which, in its prime it had been home to both George Burns and Gracie Allen and Jack Benny and Mary Livingston. Neil Simon sat in the cafe and wrote plays. The Edison is now a historic hotel, but when we stayed there it hadn't yet achieved its proud status. It was old, run-down, and a little creepy. 
But I didn't care- I was back with my old friend NY and enjoying every bit of the reunion. JW and I were young and so much in love-- little did we know we weren't alone! I was actually expecting our first child. 

It was many years until we returned. This time, though, we returned with our two children and my sister. Seeing the magic of the city through the eyes of my children was such a blessing- the Radio City show, crowding around a table for a slice of pizza, the amazement of FAO Schwarz, and Central Park-- oh, memories that are with me every time we visit now.  

Many trips have followed- too many to count. Thankfully JW is as fascinated with NY as I am. He loves the walking, the museums, the history. We have been to NYC in every season, and practically in every month. 

Except December. Until now. 

Every season there is beautiful in its own way, but this time, this visit, held its own magic. Never before having been in the city when The Tree was lit. (We have been there in November, just before Thanksgiving. The Tree was up, but in scaffolding while the lights were being attached.) Never seeing it in full-on Christmas mode. Never being in Macy's when Santa was actually in the store. My heart filled the moment we circled Manhattan and aimed at Queens for landing and it stayed full even after we returned home.  

I've seen New York handle financial challenges. I've seen it deal with visits from multiple heads of state at the same time. I've seen it in mourning. Our family raced there as soon as we could after 9/11 just to...be there. To put a few dollars back in the economy and to show it our love. We respected the losses too much to go to the World Trade site; that was for those who had suffered personal, family loss. We waited until after the families had said their goodbyes and went down on our next trip. That's how we love this city. We've celebrated wins and ignored losses in the old ballparks and the new ones. Mayors have come and gone and some can't go quickly enough. Decade after decade I have remained loyal to this city, this entity. Going back at a time that had all the beauty of the most beautiful season and all the ugliness of racial unrest was...so New York. For if any city can handle millions of tourists and a handful of protestors, NY can. If any city can rise from the ashes time and time again, a little unrest isn't going to slow it down. 

So going back to New York at Christmastime was like going home for the holidays for me. It was like visiting that old friend that you have been through so much with- the one who you may not always agree with but who you always love. The one who you want the best for and are thrilled when you get to witness those "bests." 

I mentioned in my last blog that there were three main things I wanted to experience on this trip:
1. Snow
2. Bell Ringers
3. Santa

Well, it snowed. It did. The first night and into the next day. I am not kidding. The kind of snow that sticks to your clothes but not the streets. The beautiful flakes that whirl and dance and tickle. Yep. Check #1 off the list. 

There were bell-ringers. A lot of them. And they were great! The Salvation Army's bell-ringers do not dress up as Santa, but they team up and choreograph dance moves that are fantastic! Fun, entertaining, happy. Check bell-ringers off the list. 

As for Santa, that's a story that will only be told in person. Kids get on computers and I, like my friends at Macy's, want to preserve the magic. But if you find yourself in New York at any time between the day after Thanksgiving and December 24, go to see him at Macy's. 8th floor (he has to be near the roof for quick access to the sleigh) 

So "Merry Christmas," New York. It was great to be back. 
Thanks for the wonderful welcome and we'll see you next time. 
And by the way, nice job on the tree.

Ok, here’s the thing: later today JW and I will be flying to NY. Those of you who know me know that this is a Really Big Deal for me. I am going to be able to see The Tree. THE tree. We will be in the city DURING Christmastime. The latest we have ever been has been right before Thanksgiving. Yes, it was beautiful, exciting, amazing, and all the things you expect it to be at that time. The tree was up but it was always in scaffolding. Most of the windows were decorated but many were covered and would only open after the Macy's Parade. So here it is-- the day I have been waiting for -- how many years?? We are going to drop the bags and then (and yes, I have seen the weather forecast) head straight for the tree. Right then. I will stare, gaze in awe, take cheesy pictures, and most likely cry. And for the next several days my route in and around Rockefeller Center will ALWAYS require passing the tree. 

I want to do it all and then think of more things to do. We already have lined up a taping of a show, a classic stage production, and a play. Here are some of the other things I want to see:

1. Snow. Yes, I want it to snow. I know: I never make requests about weather. Even after trying to see the colored leaves in October in the Blue Ridge. But I want snow in New York in December and yes, even just a flake will count. 

2. Bell-ringers. Somehow they will seem appropriate and I want to hear the bells echo through the canyons of Manhattan.

3. Santa. I want to see Santa. Not just any Santa-- Macy's Santa. It may come as no surprise, but...

I have a plan.

I have been researching this and I have found out that actually many adults request an audience with Santa each year. Mind you- I want no part of the sitting on the lap or the telling of wishes. But I DO want to be able to get a nice photo of the Man in the Red Suit and to be able to live out the rest of my life knowing that I have seen...Santa. 

I am so excited and grateful and blessed to be able to take this trip. I will be posting pictures and fun stuff on fb. If you get tired of it, please just ignore my obnoxiousness. I don't mean any of it to boast- only to share the joy of the season in the City that I love so much. 

Celebrating the Brilliance of Him

I LOVE this time of year. I love it so much that I want to give it a great big hug. You know the kind- where you squeeze and squeeze and don't want to be the first one to let go because that means a little bit of it has already ended? That kind of love-hug. The feeling of Fall Romance actually starts for me in about late August. Why then, you ask? Because I begin thinking about September (which hosts the Autumnal Equinox) and so I consider August "Fall Eve." I look forward to all of it. I am the one who loves it when the Christmas decorations are in the stores before Halloween. Yep, I'm that person. I am humming Christmas carols- ok, not humming, full-on SINGING - them in my car in September. Why not? Who says we have to wait until after Thanksgiving? Are Jamestown settlers with muskets going to invade my Honda CRV and claim "Thou musteth not singeth hymns until after yon turkey meal?" 
I am celebrating the birth of my Savior! I will sing about that anytime I please, thankyouverymuch. 

(Besides, um, Who are we giving thanks to? Yeah. Case closed.) 

I end September by celebrating a dear friend's birthday, and then comes October. For our area we actually begin to feel a little of the effects of our planet moving further away from the sun in October. By that I mean that it finally doesn't feel like the outside is going to explode from the heat/humidity/haze of summer. Hurricane season has officially ended and the main threat is from the eventual nor'Easter that is going to blow through at some point this season. There's a hint- just a hint- of color to the leaves in October. Mornings are foggy and dewy and the sky is clear and bright. The humidity that both plagues and defines our climate abates, not altogether and forever for the season, but enough to allow our lungs to fill with crisp, clean air and, if you are blessed, just a hint of burning leaves. Halloween in Coastal Virginia is as unpredictable as it should be. Sometimes it's warm, sometimes it's chilly, but I do remember this from my childhood: it's always hot under a plastic mask! 

Finally November arrives. I actually enjoy going to the grocery store this time of year. No, really. I look forward to it in all its tacky, crowded, commercial mess. It is equipped with such an abundance of food/gifts/sundries that you would think we lived in an area that actually was going to see snow before Christmas! It's stocked so full you can barely get a cart through without knocking into a display of mixed nuts, fruitcake, aluminum pans or crated tangerines. There is a rack of calendars ranging from "I {heart} Bacon," to "Atlantic Coast Lighthouses," to "White Tailed Deer." (apparently they stock these racks regionally) And be sure to back up behind it carefully for there is an array of wrapping paper, bows, twinkle lights and gel window clings that are supposed to look like snowflakes. They don't.  Big, towering displays of cookies and cocoa. So cozy.

Beautiful, glorious, November. The leaves in my hometown reach their brilliant peak. The weather is almost always perfectly pleasant and the sky- oh the sky! The sunrises are quiet and soft, whispering "Good Morning" to the Atlantic Ocean, the Chesapeake Bay, and the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains. The midday sun lights up the leaves like a million amber torches. I don't care how many times you see certain trees, they are still a fiery surprise on a November day in Virginia. And just when you think it couldn't get any prettier, the sun says "Good night" with brilliance and glory and no doubt at all about Who created it. Driving conditions are challenging in November. Deer are running and hunters are chasing. (mostly chasing down their prized hounds!) Leaves are falling across the road, billowing up as you drive over them and showering down all around you like a rust-colored snowstorm. 

       Big hugs. Big, squeezy, rocking back and forth hugs for November. 

Funny thing is, I used to ignore fall. I did. I plodded through life oblivious to the color, the miracle of God's portrait all around me. My mother never liked the late summer and early fall. It held painful memories for her and so she was always sort-of negative at this time of year. She loved Christmas, no mistake, and I think she liked Thanksgiving but, since she was so busy cooking, it was hard to tell. I guess I picked up on her lack of enthusiasm.  I always loved the mountains, but not living in them and never seeing them in their autumn glory, I never celebrated the color or the season or the beauty. I'm not sure when I did  begin to appreciate the splendor of it all. But I'm sure glad I did and I now see that it has everything to do with knowing Who created it. Amazing how our perspective changes as we grow closer to God and we begin to allow Him to change us.

It always depends on our point of view. 

I was finally able to see the Blue Ridge in what is known as "Peak Week" this year. My husband fulfilled a dream of mine (which he has had a habit of doing for thirty years, by the way) and he booked a stay in a cabin!  A precious little cabin! A dream for years and years- y'all just don't know! In the fall.  On a windy country road in the North Carolina Blue Ridge. One of my favorite places on earth. There is so much that goes along with all of this story and it deserves it's own "chapter," so I will not elaborate yet. The lessons I learned over a week in the oldest mountains on the continent could fill all the blogs. But there is one lesson that is just for today. For I was thrilled at the thought of seeing the leaves in all His glory! I was so excited that I wouldn't let myself even think about it. Seven year-old Christmas Eve kind of excited. That was me. 

The afternoon that we arrived in mountains was rainy and foggy. Really foggy. Foggy Mountain Breakdown stuff. The colors were there, shrouded and hidden like a beautiful bride behind a wispy veil. The next few days were rainy. I would not allow myself to be disappointed; I never really do allow that about the weather. I am sure that God has His reasons for the fog and rain and I'm sure one of them could have been that we would have been so distracted we may very well have driven off the side of Grandfather Mountain. Instead I just slid down it. But again, that's meant for another blog, another time. 

Through the course of the week the sun did peek out here and there. I kept waiting for the "aha moment" when I could see the majesty of the mountains, the fall color that I had dreamed of. It just wasn't really happening. 

Until we got in the middle of a range driving from Mountain City, TN to Damascus, VA. That's when it hit me. Up until now, I had been IN IT. We were so far back in the mountains that we were actually a part of it all. I was in the midst of the beauty of Autumn in Virginia. It wasn't until we came out and looked upon it from a different place that we could actually see the color, the beauty, the creation. 

I was so overwhelmed I couldn't speak. 

I have a sister who is an artist. Oh, some people would says she is a critical care nurse at a major hospital in Florida. But make no mistake, she is an artist. She can sketch, paint, write, design, and she has a green thumb as well. Don't ask what happened to me. Still trying to figure that out. Oh, yeah, she can sing too. 

One of my earliest memories of seeing her work was when she was in high school. She had her sketchbook, a very large one, and she was using a straightedge and a protractor. I was curious because I had only ever seen her use her clay, pastels, and watercolors before. I watched her carefully align the straightedge on the paper, and make clean, simple lines angled so that they almost touched each other at the top of the page. Then she began to fill it in with images of bushes, trees, grass, and dirt. Suddenly the lines had become a road.

She told me she was currently studying perspective. 

Taking my hand, she took me outside and down to the end of the court where we lived. She knelt down beside me as we looked down the street. See? Perspective. 

(yes, I have been blessed with TWO amazing sisters who always took time with me and who always invested in me- I know how rare that is and I thank God for them in so many ways)

As I have traveled this life's journey, I have often recalled that lesson. I learned so much more than an artist's technique that day-- I learned to look at the big picture. 

Of course I was young and unable to know that at the time, but I remembered my sister's simple way of showing me that there is more than one way to look at something. That sometimes when we are in the midst of something we have to take a step back in order to see how everything...works. I credit that lesson, and the work of the Holy Spirit in my life by opening my eyes to its application, with my ability to use sound discernment in the middle of a crisis, to sort out complicated details, and to sometimes find humor in an otherwise bleak situation. I also enjoy playing around with photography and looking at normal objects from an not-so-predictable angle. (That latter one may just be attributed to my weirdness though.)

Like when I look at trees glowing with the brilliance of fall. And when I look at...us. Christians. Are we glowing with the brilliance of the One Who created us? The One Who sustains us and gives us every good and perfect gift? 

The One Who lives inside us - are we shining and attracting the attention of others so that we can show them...Him?

Where is our perspective focused? Are we looking outward toward others in a caring and compassionate way, while still looking inwardly at how we can evaluate and eliminate anything that reflects Him badly? 

And are we so immersed in the midst of Him and His work that we cannot even tell where one ends and One begins? Are we so in awe that we are unable to speak or even draw a breath because of His overwhelming presence? I want to be. So desperately. 

As the season moves on toward that beautiful, holy night, I beg the Lord to allow my leaves to be on fire for Him. May the buds that form and bloom in the spring bring with them the promise of new life in Him. And may the Son shine through it all.