If Your Christmas List Needs a Lift

Where in the world is a good, hydraulic couch cushion when you need one? I've finished my devotions and I can't get up. I can envision my Christmas list in a couple of years:

1. Replacement batteries for all seeing, hearing, and walking devices.
2. A memo pad that sticks to the refrigerator...bathroom mirror...kitchen counter...my kid...and all outside doors.
3. Extra shoe inserts for all foot maladies.
4. Fashionable reading glasses with lights (they make 'em).
5. Better tasting, fun-shaped Calcium supplements with Vitamin D.
6. A case of 5-hour Energy Shot drinks. Make that two cases.
7. And the big one I mentioned above...a portable, light-weight, hydraulic lifter I can use for any chair, couch, pew or car seat I happen to light upon.

To read the rest of this post, please continue to the new web site A Quiet Place of Grace

Looking For God's Samaritans

Please note, for this new blog post and all those in the future,

I'd like to direct you to A Quiet Place of Grace. You can click on the name 

to be directed to the new web site.

My hope is that the new site will not only contain periodic blogs, but will supply you with numerous and various types of resources that will encourage you in your walk with the Lord. 

God bless you and thank you for following so faithfully.

Who's In Control?

I've come a long way from the slightly obsessive, "need-to-feel-in-control" person I used to be. Years ago, the Lord put an older woman in my life that was a walking scalpel to my character. Despite the tears she brought to my prayer closet, the Lord knew exactly where my flesh needed to die, where sensitivities needed toughening, and I had no doubt...He let her know. 

One day we were going somewhere together and while she was telling me a story, she let go of the steering wheel to talk with her hands (Italians do that). I jumped and grabbed the wheel with a panicked death grip. Totally thoughtless reflex, but the look of disapproval made me let go immediately. I don't remember the exact conversation that followed, but I do remember the words, "Shannon, don't be such a control freak. The Lord's in control. You've never been."

It was a good "ouch," no matter how it sounded. Sometimes, the most nutritional food seems like it's delivered on a garbage can lid, so I want to throw it out. But the Holy Spirit washed over her words and fed it to my spirit every day for weeks. I saw how this "desire to control" infiltrated nearly every area of my life; it seeped into the ministry, permeated my work and sometimes caused friction in my relationships with other people. I was so blind, but when I saw, I understood. And such was the beginning of the Lord's deeper work in teaching me how to trust Him, letting go of fears, releasing self-preservation habits, helping me see Him as reigning over all, and then finding the joy in releasing others to be free and encourage them in the grace of God.

But...we are a project of the Lord's sanctification until heaven.

Have you ever prayed for something with such a depth of desire in your heart, that you felt you'd nearly have a stroke or heart attack if something wasn't done immediately? That crisis prayer of urgency that God MUST intervene or catastrophe is a surety? There was a day not long ago, that out of the abundance of my heart the mouth did speak, and out of the carnality of my flesh the emotions did boil, and I started pulling out a host of scriptures like a sword and wielded it at the Lord. "Father, You said in Your word..." and then I'd speak a promise not yet fulfilled.

Then...I paused...and heard a reverberation of the tone of my voice and the pride that infused my attitude. I felt my hands immediately jerk off God's steering wheel as I realized what I was doing-trying to control...Him. My sorrow, frustration, and heartache, over seeming unanswered prayers lept over my wall of faith right into Satan's arena of doubt and I found myself trying to manipulate the Lord and "make" Him DO SOMETHING. Do something to relieve pain. Do something to change circumstances and convert them into what I desired. Do something to take vengeance, reveal truth, bring justice and stop allowing storms to rage, lies to prosper, and tears to fall. "Just make it stop!" I cried out.

Why I wasn't a pillar of salt or pile of ashes is only because of His mercy. Jonah 4 came back to me as a tender rebuke. A completely reprobate city of people received the goodness, grace, and kindness of the Lord, instead of their deserved wrath and judgment. These people had committed mountains of sin against God and His people and Jonah wanted Him to deal with them. But when the Lord didn't do what Jonah wanted, (because the people repented), and didn't respond to his indignation and passionate desire to see retribution, Jonah became angry to the point of suicidal thoughts.

Jonah 4:4 "Then the Lord said, “Is it right for you to be angry?”

Job 40:2 “Shall the one who contends with the Almighty correct Him?

He who rebukes God, let him answer it.”

As I walked beneath a shelf of fragile tea cups in my kitchen, I remembered my own frailty before a very powerful God. The chastening to my heart brought me to my face and I heard the words to my thoughts,  "Shannon, are you more righteous than I?"

I can become so myopic in my perspective of life. So self-righteous in my indignation. So frustrated when I feel helpless. So limited in my level of trust in a God that never leaves the throne, always reigns in righteousness and truth with a scepter of mercy and grace. I so easily forget His long-suffering towards me, His love that's covered the multitude of my own sin, the plain reality that He is God and I am not and His ways are always best.

So when you find His promises not yet fulfilled, and your heart is overwhelmed with a desire to see the Lord bring them to pass, pray them with a heart of trust and dependency on a God Who WILL bring them to pass...but in His timing and in His way. And remember...we're clay. Just like the tea cups.

Psalm 145:8 "The LORD is gracious and full of compassion,

Slow to anger and great in mercy."

Proverbs 3:5-6 "Trust in the Lord with all your heart

and lean not on your own understanding;

in all your ways submit to him,

and he will make your paths straight."

How Much Service Pleases the Lord?

I laid my book down after reading the same paragraph half a dozen times and decided to try and get to the restroom without help. My twenty-three-year old spine revolted at the movement and shot pain down both legs which refused to cooperate. Humiliation came as quick as my tears and I called my best friend to bring me a diaper. I was still in too much pain for even a bed pan.

A little while later, my infantile Christian faith poured out complaints to the Father and made a list of all the responsibilities I had, the things I needed to do, the job I needed to return to and why He needed to heal me. Then my complaints turned into pleadings and my heart began to melt as His silent Presence of peace engulfed me. I stared at the ceiling and began to count the swirls of the drywall and my eyes dried up. If I needed to understand my "why" questions, I knew He would tell me. But He engulfed me in His peace and that was more comforting to my newly saved heart than any medication I could take. 

Fast forward nine years. I leaned outside my second-story apartment window to where my clothes line openly displayed my lack of style. I was quickly learning that even though Croatia was not a rich country, it was European and there was a certain style that women wore, no matter their financial status. My jeans, sneakers and sweat shirts seemed to violate every code. As I reached out to the furthest line, I felt my lower back begin to slide out, so I stood up quickly, only to snap my already herniated neck and down I went to the wooden floor. Deja vu.

I had only been in the country a few months as a missionary and was already the most useless import that ever came. Poor people. I knew the Lord had called me to go, there was no doubt, but I took a herniated disc in my neck and a very weak lower back along with my luggage. A few days later, as I laid on my hard but stylish European couch in pain, waiting for soup from the pastor's wife of the church that I CAME TO SERVE...I began to count the swirls in the ceiling. 

"36, 37, 38...Lord, why did You send me here? I feel like I spend more time out of commission than upright. I know You told me I had to understand the power of prayer. I know You have shown me that I have wrongly believed I could accomplish more for the kingdom of heaven with my hands and body, than with my prayers and love for others. But....there has to be more I'm missing."

My mind immediately flashed back to a time when I was a kid. My parents were divorced and my mother was forced to go to work and leave my little brother and I alone quite often. I'd make her cards and leave her notes to try and cheer her up. She had such a hard, commission-only job and would stand on her feet for hours trying to sell keyboards and pianos. When my mom hurt, I hurt. So one day, I decided to clean a huge portion of the house for her and imagined it would make everything better. I wanted her to smile and be so proud and hear lots of approval and affirmation. I grabbed the plastic rake and made perfect lines throughout our lime-green shag carpeting. I gave my brother a death threat if he walked on it, dusted all the furniture with lemon-fresh Pledge, then turned on all the lights and waited for her face when she walked in.

My memory froze on that picture and the Lord's words gently came. "Shannon, though you did not know Me, I knew you, understood you, and read your heart's desire to please your mother. I also saw and understood your struggles with a father you felt you could never please. But to this day, you still are trying to please Me with your service. Did I love you more when you served at the church six days a week? Did I love you more when you were leading kids to salvation in the public schools? Did I love you more when you went from morning to evening serving others in your family and in the ministry?

Do I love you less now that you can do nothing and 

actually need care from other people's hands? 

You need to know in your heart...not your head....that your value to Me is because you are Mine. That is all. There is no change in My love or your value based on anything you will ever do. It will never be about what you do...it's solely because you are Mine. Rest in My love."

Fast forward to last night. Forty-seven years old and a pastor's wife who has stepped down out of the vast majority of ministry. Lying on the couch while my husband cleans the dishes, my daughter reads to herself and I am staring at patterns of impressions in the ceiling with a stomach on fire from pain medication I took for my back. And the Lord's words came back to me..."Do I love you less now? Is your value to me less than when you were...? Just rest in My love." 

There is nothing more powerful to shatter the guilt and condemnation that comes from weakness, than relishing in the security of God's love and acceptance by grace. 

It is Whose we are, not what we do. Rest in His love.

How the Father Loves...

"Maddie, get your book bag," my husband said in his let's-get-moving-because-we're-late voice. "Time to pray." 

I grabbed two familiar hands, squeezed them both and bowed my head. As my husband began to pray, Maddie let go of my hand, entwined her arm around mine, leaned into me hard and began to squirm. I opened one eye and there she was; partially covered in my robe and face up smiling as big as daylight underneath me. Her eyes shouted six year old love notes to my heart.

I returned her smile, winked back my own love note, then silently mouthed the words, "pray" to help her focus. With the "amen" came an immediate embrace that nearly threw my back out and restrained my arms from movement. I bent over to kiss her little cherub cheeks, but she grabbled my face and proceeded to kiss my left cheek, the tip of my nose, my right cheek, and then took off down the stairs shouting, "I love you Mommy! Good bye!" It's our morning ritual that hasn't lost it's meaning by routine.

This little treasure we were given in our old age is a daily blessing. Even when her Irish stubbornness, Italian volatility, and German resistance permeates her flesh and lands her in time out. But as I sat at the kitchen table and began to pray about a project I'm working on, the Lord replayed our morning prayer time. Then the words "Be still" whispered straight to my heart. I stopped praying and sat quiet, trying to silence my thoughts.

"I love you Lord. You are so..." I continued.

"Be still. Be quiet My daughter," came His reply.

As I tried to sit quiet and focus my thoughts before Him (have you ever tried this?), He replayed the morning with my daughter. I saw as she grabbed my hand, embraced my arm, then tucked herself into my warm robe and looked with love into my face. I felt afresh the pressure of little hands grabbing hold of my face and the pure tenderness of  pursed lips on my cheeks. But then I felt a small sensation in my heart that was immediately amplified. It was the ache and desire I had to hold HER, embrace HER, kiss HER, and convey MY love straight into those beautiful brown eyes.

The Lord didn't need to say anything else to my heart. I knew that as a Father, He loves when we grab His hand to pray. He loves our embraces, our glances into His face, our demonstration and words of love. But...how He longs to have us sit still, stop squirming, and give Him the opportunity to love us as only He can. 

His grip is eternal. Jesus said that once we are His children, "no one is able to snatch them out of My Father's hand." Jn 10:28-29.

His eyes are full of grace. "But Noah (place your name here) found grace in the eyes of the LORD." Gen. 6:8

His robe completely covers us and has the power to save our souls, save us from our enemies, and adorn us with a covering that is pure, holy, spotless and obtained by grace. "...My soul shall be joyful in my God; He has clothed me with the garments of salvation, He has covered me with the robe of righteousness..." Isa. 61:10

His kiss of favor and blessing and love is greater and more fulfilling than any earthly pleasure. "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth —for your love is better than wine." SoS 1:2

His words of love touch, change, heal, revive, encourage and strengthen the depths of our soul. "How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!" Ps. 119:103

I looked out the window to the remnants of our first snowfall of the season. The fresh white blanket covered all of the dead leaves of the fall and made me thank Him for the purity of His love that just blanketed my earthiness and life that was once dead from the "fall."

We love Him today...because He first loved us forever (1 John 4:19).

When God Labels You "Fireproof"

"Everything that can endure fire, you shall put through the fire, and it shall be clean; and it shall be purified with the water of purification. But all that cannot endure fire 

you shall put through water." ~ Numbers 31:23

As I slithered my way back to bed, there was not a single position that brought relief from the pain. The lesser of all evils was found in an infant position of being curled up on my knees while trying to remove  any pressure from my abdomen. My husband knelt next to the bed and I could hear him interpreting my groans to the Lord in prayer. He had phoned the the on-call physician, the emergency room, given me the maximum dose of medication possible and nothing brought relief.

I have to admit, of all the physical traumas, trials, and hospital encounters I have been through, this night was unlike any other. Barely able to think above pain's interference, I cried out to the Lord and told Him I felt tortured. Inwardly, I echoed repeatedly, "Jesus, this is too much for me. Have mercy...have mercy." Though the last thing a pastor and his wife want to do is lay a burden on the flock, my husband sent out a text message to closest friends and family requesting prayer. We are confident of the power that God brings through prayer. Many hours later, the pain had decreased enough that my body gave way to exhaustion and sleep. 

I don't need to describe what I felt like the next morning, but I did take my heart before the Lord and ask Him to search me. I know that sometimes sickness is a way the Lord chastens His children. It doesn't make me turn away from Him, but rather run at such love that cares enough to do what is best for my flawed character. But on this particular morning, the tenderness of the Lord reassured me that this was not about sin. The Shepherd's Psalms were like a blanket of comfort to my heart.

"Adrenal fatigue" is one of the many conditions doctors have told me I'm battling, but it doesn't come close to the kind of fatigue I have found with chronic pain and sickness. It feels like my entire being is exhausted and the term "fatigue" seems way too polite. After leaving one of my doctor's appointments, (which wasn't worth a penny of the co-pay), I leaned hard against the lobby window waiting for my husband. My heart felt heavy and scattered thoughts echoed the dismal words the doctor had given me moments earlier.

I began to pray...or whine. It was hard to tell the difference. Lord, what does "normal" feel like? I don't remember what it feels like to have no pain, no weariness...just normal. I don't remember the last time I slept through the night. I'm just so tired...so tired of hurting. The Lord's words came pouring into my thoughts, but in my heart...it was almost like I turned my head, dropped my hands and didn't receive them. They fell to the ground and I walked outside with unbelief. A much worse condition than any bodily sickness I could ever have.

Self-pity is a scary place. When I went there for a long vacation in my twenties, I was miserable and made everyone else miserable around me. I had a quick temper, sharp comebacks, rude defensiveness,  and swam laps in the victimization pool almost every day. Self-pity is that deceptive belief that I'm the recipient of unfair or undeserved treatment from the Lord. I compared my life to everyone else and began to keep an unwritten checklist of all the things I felt I lacked or had to endure that no one else did. Satan loved it. He fed it. God hated it. He called it an abomination and sin. By His grace, He pulled my focus out of my navel and got my eyes back on the truth.

So after another long, sleepless night, I remembered that time and decided swimming with piranha would be safer than self-pity. I don't want to go back there again. Unable to drink coffee, my foggy thoughts prayed and I opened my Bible. Highlighted words in bright yellow began to speak like a clarifying breeze.

"Everything that can endure fire, you shall put through the fire, and it shall be clean; and it shall be purified with the water of purification. But all that cannot endure fire 

you shall put through water." ~ Numbers 31:23

A familiar whisper said to my soul, "You have had many times in the past when the floods I allowed made you fearful of drowning. You discovered My faithfulness that the waters would not overflow you (Isa. 43:2). But now you are in the furnace of affliction (Isa. 48:10). I would not allow you to go through the fire unless I knew you could endure it. Trust Me in the heat of suffering, the scorch of pain, and believe that I am just as much with you as I was with Daniel's friends (Daniel 3:26)." This...my heart sighed...is part of what is called "the fellowship of His sufferings" from Philippians 3:10. My life verse.

How do people go on without the Lord? If my heart would just STAY and STAND in belief in the simple truths of God's Words. No matter my circumstances. Sometimes, I just feel so earthy. More in touch with the grass beneath my feet than the arms beneath my life. More aware of my emotions and sadness than the presence of God in my heart. Earthy.

So I picked back up the promises I had dropped lifeless in the doctor's office and embraced them in faith. My body may still be weary, but my soul certainly was strengthened. I will leave some of these promises for anyone else who is weary. There are many more you could add as well. The Lord has left us enough promises to fill our hearts with eternity. And now I am praying for the unknown faces that may read this...that you may hear the Lord say to your heart, "I am with you in this. In all of your affliction, I Am afflicted as well (Isa. 63:9). Trust Me to deliver you through it."

"But he knoweth the way that I take: when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold." 

Job 23:10

"That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, 

though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour 

and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ" 1 Peter 1:7

"But the LORD hath taken you, and brought you forth out of the iron furnace, even out of Egypt, to be unto him a people of inheritance, as ye are this day." Deut. 4:20

"My grace is sufficient for you; for My strength is perfected in your weakness."  2 Cor. 12:9

The Right Camera App for Life

As I leaned hard over the iron railing from our third floor balcony, I tapped my phone at least two dozen times trying to get the right exposure and focus for the sunrise. I was thankful no one was outside to see the strange contortions I was going through just to get the right angle. After I snapped a few pictures, I spent the next thirty minutes looking at them through four different camera and picture apps on my iPhone. I tried the "vivid" filter, the violet enhancements, the high-def resolutions, and nothing seemed exactly perfect or able to catch the glory I just watched in front of me. I finally put together the little collage on my left, uploaded it to Instagram and opened my Bible.

I'm going through 1 Samuel right now and love reading about David's life. In chapter 26, there's a scene where jealous King Saul is pursuing David with 3,000 men to kill him. One night, as he and the Israelites were under a God-induced sleep, David and Abishai snuck down into the camp, through the people and stood right next to Saul and his military commander. Abishai said to David "God has delivered the enemy into your hand this day." His perspective of the circumstances, his knowledge of David's character, and the miracle of the moment, meant one conclusion to him...God had delivered Saul into David's hand to kill him. But David had a different perspective of these same circumstances. He said, "Do not destroy him; for who can stretch out his hand against the Lord's anointed and be guiltless?" So rather than kill Saul, he did something ingenious to prove to everyone that night the innocence of his heart.

We all walk through life taking snapshots of our days, capturing video moments that are significant to us. We may be driving in a car, having lunch with a friend, or laying our head on a pillow at night, when we pull out these snapshots and videos and rehearse them in our minds. But each of us have filters that we apply to what we see, hear, or experience. Just as David and Abishai did. Same circumstance, but  very different conclusions. As a Christian, some look at things through "black and white" filters. Right or wrong, cut and dry. It is true that there are only two options in Christ, but to leave out the beauty of His grace, the hues of His providence, the spectrum of His wisdom, will leave us looking at people with very critical and sharp perspectives.

There are those who look through sepia tones, often reflecting on the past and comparing current circumstances to what things "used to be like, back in the day." This leaves out the glory of God's current work in the present, that has rainbow colors of promise that is needful for hope and trust. Some see through rose-colored lenses, and though optimism is a delight and needful, the reality of seeing the shadows and dark contrasts are so needful in the aspect of prayer. I have a filter on one camera app called "emo" and it not only darkens the entire picture, but  is rather myopic and narrowly focused. I've found that in places where I have been deeply hurt, I apply this film to painful experiences and don't see things in the light they are meant to be seen. Or...when I'm depressed or sad...everything in my day seems "emo" to say the least.

I looked out at the ocean as the sun had risen to a height where the rays were still being reflected like fireworks dancing on the water's surface. Soft orange and pastel pink lines were drawn across the sky and pelicans were flying low looking for breakfast. Rather than taking more pictures, I just took it all in as the Lord displayed it in front of me. And though my husband came out and tried to capture the moment himself, a worship song and gratitude began to fill my heart. Then I remembered that in heaven, when all of the chaos and confusion of life will be over and we will see things as they truly are, then worship will follow with the words "Great and marvelous are Your works, Lord God Almighty; just and true are Your ways" Rev.15:3. We will see through clear lenses and untainted filters all of God's glorious workings in our lives today. The dark tones will no longer be enhanced by fear, but will merely illustrate the power of His workings in light. The blurry vision of "not understanding" will be gone and replaced with joyful clarity of focus in the face of Jesus.


I've been asking the Lord since then to help me see through clear filters of truth. The Holy Spirit can do this for all of us. Just as the enemy would like to change how we see life, one another, and our God, how much more does the Lord want us to walk through our days seeing through the lens of truth, with clarity of vision and right perspectives. May it be so for you today. 

God's Seashell Collection

If you'll forgive me for not boring you with the how's and why's that my husband, daughter and I are in Florida, I'll get right to one of the most precious revelations the Lord has ever blessed me with. Though it was such a tender and personal exchange, I share it in hopes it will encourage someone.

A few days ago, I laid in an unfamiliar bed, in the middle of the afternoon, crying tears of utter exhaustion, sorrow, and desperation. The doctors say the pain will not get better unless I sleep, but sleep is sometimes impossible from the pain. I am not sure what true delirium looks like, but I had to be there...or close to it. My heart echoed a request I've asked God repeatedly, "Please Lord, help me learn everything I possibly can from this trial. Every tiny ounce, fragment, sliver or moment, may nothing be wasted." I don't trust myself to glean it all because so much of me wants it over. 

But as numerous as the tears that wet my pillow, I saw in my mind's eye numerous people sitting down and eating in a lush, green field. Then I heard the Lord's instructions to the disciples from John 6:12 "gather up the fragments that remain, so that nothing is lost," and my heart was instantly at peace. I had assurance that the Lord would gather the very fragments of this trial for me so that nothing would be lost.

Yesterday, I woke up to thick clouds blocking an oceanic sunrise, but I wanted to walk the beach and look for treasure. I love shells, sand dollars and sea glass. Our hostesses have jars full of them and I envisioned giant jars to display my own.

I scoured the shores like one of those metal detector things some people use at the beach. I was so intense on my hunt that a man stopped me and asked what I was searching so hard for. The current and waves are extremely rough where we are staying and it would be a miracle to find a sand dollar or pretty shell intact. Then I saw it. A gorgeous sand dollar emerged as the tide water rolled out. I rushed over and plucked from the sand...a triangular fragment of what must've been a very large sand dollar. Cue the music for disappointment. 

As I tossed it aside, the Lord quickly spoke to my heart, "Go pick that back up. I gave you a treasure." I stared at the gray remnant that didn't even fill my palm and the familiar, soft voice came to my thoughts again, "go up and look along the seaweed and trash that the high tide left along the shore." No one walked the beach along that muck and mire. It even had an unpleasant odor. But I obeyed.

As I walked where no footprints lie, scattered among the debris were fragments of gorgeous shells and broken shards of large conch shells that could amplify the ocean's roar. Then the Lord spoke to me so clearly, "Shannon, you toss aside the broken and incomplete and remnants, in hopes to obtain the whole and beautiful, attractive and valuable. But I do not see as you do. The broken are beautiful to Me. The defaced, exposed, shattered, fractured and worn pull at My heart and draw me close. Remember, I gather the fragments that remain so that nothing will be lost? It's not just about the lessons in your trials; it is about you. It's about all of My people that have been tossed by hard currents, tumultuous waves and trials, circumstances that have crashed down and broken them. Fractured hearts. Souls that are worn thin. I see those who feel as though they are mere fragments from their years...and I call all of you My treasure. Would you like to walk where no one walks and gather what no one gathers? You will find Me there."

I stood still, stunned by His love. Touched deep by the tenderness of Jesus that calls my unattractive, broken self a "treasure" to His heart. Amazed by His grace that loves to dwell amidst what the world, and sometimes the church, easily discards, overlooks, and sees no value in. And then I looked down and saw this tiny, little chiseled shell and photographed it. What kind of blows and tossings could sculpt a perfect heart? When I tried to pick it up, it shattered in pieces. The Lord knows that we are not good care-takers of others hearts. Especially when a person has become so frail. I should've just observed and admired rather than gather for myself. The Lord's words continued...as I will share in a future post. 

But for today...no matter where you live or walk, remember that the Lord sees you...and His lens is not as the worlds. “...For they will draw out of the abundance of the seas, And the hidden treasures of the sand.” Deut.33:19b

Autumn's True Colors

Mesmerized. The word that seems to fit me best when the leaves begin to change color. My husband's voice broke through my enchantment as he tried to get a word in to our "barely-breathe-when-talking daughter."

"In the fall" he began, "the leaves show their true colors Madigan. They can't be hidden behind all the green chlorophyll they had during the summer."

As we drove down familiar country roads, normal sights changed to divine observations as the landscape projected gold, orange, and crimson nature across the background of a sky-blue canvas. My daughter pretended to take pictures with her fingers while I literally took them with my phone. "True colors" echoed in my thoughts.

"You see Maddie, the branches are attached to the tree, and the leaves to the branches," he continued."Then as the leaves turn colors, they also form a cork-like substance on the base of the leaf. That's what separates them from the branch and they fall to the ground." Separation from the branch...

Just as most of us become incredible singers in the shower, I wax poetic every fall in my head. I meditate on everything from the green masks of the leaves, to the glory of God's creation, to the particular beauty that can come with death. But this year, with the change in my own season, my true colors have come to the surface in a myriad of ways.

I told my husband, "I have never been more in touch with my flesh than I am now!" I thought fasting from food showed me how loud and obnoxious my flesh was...but it's nothing in comparison to chronic pain unmasked by medication. True colors of "the fall"(Genesis 3) have emerged at certain times in my personality...the reds of anger and frustration, the yellows of fear and worry, the dark browns of sorrow or disappointment. Then, if I allow it, a cork-like substance can begin to grow in my thoughts when I rehearse the reality of sleeplessness, weariness, unanswered prayers, doubts, and the abominable self-pity. All of these and more can begin to separate my heart from The Branch (Isaiah 11:1) if I'm not careful.

It was when I read a children's science book that showed how the bright reds and purples that are seen in the most beautiful leaves are NOT a leaf's true colors. These eye-catchers, like maple leaves, are made by glucose being trapped in the leaves and the combination of sunlight and cool nights turn them brilliant red. The reflection of a sweetness made by mixing the sun with a cold environment.

So I pray this morning, "Lord, You have said that I have this treasure of Yourself in an earthen vessel (2 Cor. 4:7). Since the grace-filled chlorophyll of godly fellowship, Bible studies, church events, and conferences, have been withdrawn for now, may the bright light of Your countenance, the Sun that arises with healing in His wings (Malachi 4:2), shine across my heart. Could the warmth of Your Son mix with the cold found in a doctor's office, or the frosted resistance in the world, or amidst the passing chills from pain's solitude, and be converted into a sweet reflection of Who Jesus is to others around me? And when I am alone, could you fill my soul with the sweet aroma of worship and prayer, whether by mouth or heart, and have it ascend past the sky-blue canvas, right to the feet that once were covered with the contents of an alabaster box?"

I ended my prayer and shamefully confess, sometimes I pray things that sound good to my flesh, but I don't fully believe that God will actually answer it. I never fully realize that I do this unless the Holy Spirit stops me or speaks to me in some way. A couple of hours later, the Lord did speak to me.

He reminded me of going outside this spring with my little girl and raking all of the dead leaves off of the gardens and places where perennial flowers and plants were already peaking through with new life. She picked up one dead, decrepit, ugly leaf and said "Mommy! Isn't this one beautiful?! This one is my treasure." I shrugged my shoulders and smiled and kept raking. When we went inside, she put the leaf on the table and asked me to admire it with her. I was having all kinds of trouble admiring it, but she kept calling it beautiful. I videotaped just a small bit of her love.

And then I realized, there is a glorious beauty that comes from a Christian that emanates Jesus despite their cold, harsh, bone-chilling circumstances they may be in at the time. But it's not for the golden smiles, the hues of patience, or crimson-type love that draws God's love, blessing, and pleasure toward me. I am like that leaf in my daughter's hand: aged, withered, brittle, dark spots across my character, and though not lifeless, apart from the Branch, I would be. But He calls me...us...His treasure. If a child can find beauty in the ugly, pluck one lone leaf out of a multitude and see its value, how much more the Creator in the creation? It's ok to not be brilliant and colorful today...I'm resting in the hands that know my frailty and carry me so gently. 

Psalm 103:14 "For He knows our frame; and remembers that we are dust."

If Pain was a Person

I finished the dishes from lunch, wiped down the table, scratched off a foreign substance from a chair and had a glorious thought, "I feel well enough to organize my spice cabinet." Organizing is never a curse or punishment to me. There's some sort of warped satisfaction I get by putting things in alphabetical, numerical, or categorical order. I happen to believe that once it's finished, life becomes ever-so-slightly more efficient. Joy is always a side effect.

A few seconds after switching the coriander jar with the cilantro, I felt the fiery sting of pain in my right hip and a familiar ache crawl up my back, neck and down through my arms. I immediately responded in my thoughts, "No! You are NOT going to stop me again." 

Do you remember how the Bible personifies wisdom in the Book of Proverbs? Well, for some reason, I decided to personify pain today. Proverbs 1 says that wisdom cries out in the streets, city squares, high places and is willing to help simple people grow in their knowledge and understanding of life. But pain? If pain were a person...what kind of personality would it have?

I guess a lot depends on your own experience with pain, but in my life, it is like an obnoxious, unruly child. It constantly interrupts me regardless of what I am doing, who I am with, or the time of day (or night). I can be in the middle of worship, the middle of a conversation, or in the middle of sleep, and it will selfishly demand my attention by yelling, screaming, or increasing its force until I cannot deny, ignore or sleep through it. It never asks permission to interrupt my day and rarely gives forewarning so I know how to plan. Pain seems to be most debilitating when I am with my child. Probably because of the disappointment that floods my heart when I can't perform all that I want in her childlike world of wonder. Pain is nearly hyper in its relentless pursuit to steal joy, crush hope, and spread discouragement all over limitations. It likes to paint the future with dark colors and play videos with tragic endings. One of the biggest personality traits of pain, is its insidious attempts to attack the character of God with a treasure-trove of lies and twisted truths. 

I put the Venison seasoning with the steak and chicken rub at the back of the shelf and looked for my medication bottle. I had my years in the past when "pain killers" came in many different forms and I embraced them all; from chemical to relational, but now I hate medicine. "Highs" bring me low. Then the Lord spoke to my heart, "Pain is not your enemy. It was Mine. Pain's power lies in your heart's response."

Amy Carmichael wrote a poem about the attempts the human soul tries to make in regards to pain, suffering and sorrow. It's her last line that often comes to remembrance; "in acceptance lieth peace." Pain can drive me away from God as I kick against it, or it can drive me to the feet of God, where my tears find His comfort. Pain can make me mad as it intrudes into my schedule and stops me from doing what I want, or it can be the vehicle to drive me to His promises of His strength to replace my weakness, His healing to replace my pain, or His grace to submit to the interruption and trust Him for the outcome. When my child sees my suffering and her little face reflects fear and concern, I can listen to pain's lies about God's unfairness, or I can pray and trust that my Father is molding her character and knows what she needs to be exposed to for her future. 

At some point, pain crossed an invisible line and went from being an unwanted curse to an accepted gift from the Lord. It has become a special professor with life lessons that no other instructor could give. Each facet of pain, for the child of God, has a special invitation attached; "the fellowship of His sufferings. (Phil.3:10)" Sometimes, in the darkest hours of the night, when I cannot sleep through the pain, I sense the Lord's Presence right with me and I am comforted. But most of the time, I only hurt and sense the throbs, aches, stabs, and discomfort. And it is in those times, that I am certain part of my pain is caused by the Lord holding me so tight. He has taught me to trust Him and to look at the cross if I forget how much my life means to Him. I often forget.

So tell that unruly child called "Pain" to sit still and be quiet. Pain is never allowed to come to our doorstep unless the Lord has great riches of Himself that He wants to give to us. "In acceptance lies peace." 

2 Corinthians 4:17-18 is a scripture I have often asked the Lord to read and explain to my heart. I'm still listening... 

"For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; While we look not at the things which are seen, 

but at the things which are not seen : for the things which are seen are temporal; 

but the things which are not seen are eternal.

If you'd like to read some good books to help you deal with suffering and pain, I highly recommend these below. But there are many that have gone before us...

"Stepping Down" Into His Rest

How do you feel when you sense "change" is coming to your life? Fearful? Hopeful? Anxious? Relieved?

Years ago, I only had one response to impending change...restlessness. The dictionary defines it as "the inability to relax as a result of anxiety" and I certainly knew how to demonstrate it: obsessive cleaning of unseen places, irrational ideas for excursions, spontaneous shopping sprees, and a total inability to sit on any piece of furniture, no matter how comfortable. Change made me nervous. The unknown can feel threatening or worse to someone who has control issues.

But as I have come to know the Lord, I have grown to understand that all of God's ways for my life are for good and are birthed out of His love. Trust in His character stifles anxiety and embracing His love casts out the fear. As I sensed the Lord was about to bring "change" into my life, though I didn't know what it was, I felt the power of Eli's words to Samuel in 1 Samuel 3:9 (emphasis mine), "Go, lie down; and it shall be, if He calls you, that YOU MUST say, 'Speak Lord, for Your servant hears.'" The Lord did speak to me, very clearly and repeatedly.

Last Tuesday morning, on the day we were to start the women's Bible study for the year, I shared what the Lord put on my heart for the women in our church, and then announced how the Lord has led me to step away from the majority of ministry involvement. Many women were unable to attend the study and within one week, there have been misunderstandings and many questions. I am posting a link to the message here to try and help communicate to those who I haven't been able to speak with directly or may have their own questions.

Click here then on the message from 9/10/13 entitled Psalm 34:10

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. (Matt. 11:28-29)

From Provocation To Praise

Are there any places in scripture that you have a hard time reading? The story from First Samuel about Hannah and her barrenness used to be one I liked to skim or skip for years. I would read the first chapter and get to the part where Elkanah would give his wife Peninnah and her flock of children portions of food from the offering he made to the Lord, then verse 5, "But to Hannah he would give a double portion, for he loved Hannah, although the Lord had closed her womb." Ouch. Like a needle's sharp prick in my soul those words sounded. The Lord brought upon her the most difficult affliction a woman could bear in those days. Not to mention the normal desire most women have to bear little ones for the sheer joy of motherhood.

Then verses 6 and 7 just seemed to be salt in her soul's open wound. Read slowly and imagine what this must have been like for Hannah. "And her rival also provoked her severely, to make her miserable, because the Lord had closed her womb. So it was, year by year, when she went up to the house of the Lord that she provoked her; therefore she wept and did not eat." No doubt that this other wife of Elkanah's would do whatever she could throughout the year to discourage Hannah. I can only imagine some days that she could not escape the infectious giggles, overhear tiny lisped conversations, and be jolted by the cries from skinned knees that would yank from her soul that desire to comfort and kiss away the pain. I remember times in the past when baby showers seemed like torture chambers with cake and ice cream.

But notice the timing when the most intense attack comes from Hannah's rival in verse 7. "When she went up to the house of the Lord." It was when Hannah was going to that place of prayer, praise, worship, and sacrifice. The place that was to lift her broken heart and limited vision off the temporal and on to the eternal. This place where the irresistible aroma of worship and joyful thanksgiving would fill her senses and draw her in to remember Who she belonged to and the faithfulness of His care. This place that God desired for Hannah to find grace, help, comfort, and truth...and this is when she would be most attacked in her soul by her adversary.

Our adversary is not kinder than Penninah. He will try and provoke you to anger, bitterness, and misery:

• By keeping your focus on what you do not have. 
• Intensifying the pain of an unmet desire in your heart that God COULD fill if He chose to.
• By twisting and attacking the character of God in the areas of His goodness, gentleness, love and intimate care.
• His timing will intensify when you have opportunity to go to church, a home group, a prayer meeting, or when you sit down in the corner chair of your living room with a Bible.

"And when she was in bitterness of soul (verse 10)," she did not let it develop 

into bitterness that poisons the heart (Hebrews 12:15). That bitterness that is like a

blinding fog that covers over all the blessings He has filled our life with.

The best thing we can do when we are broken is believe God's promise to us from Psalm 34:18, "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit." Since your God scoots close to the shards of your heart and is busy catching the tears that pour down your cheeks (Psalm 56:8), it would be good for us to respond to our adversary the way Hannah did. She "prayed to the Lord and wept in anguish" then asked Him to (look at verse 11):

1. Remember me and look on this affliction You have brought into my life. The Hebrew word for affliction pertains to suffering, trouble, hardship and misery. God has big enough shoulders and great enough love for you to bring your disappointment to Him. It is good when we tell Him that this trial is too much for us to bear and we seek Him to bear it for us.
2. I am Your maidservant. Her perspective of herself was not arrogant or one of entitlement. But in contrast to God, she was His slave to serve Him and His purposes. She felt she had no rights but a humble request.
3. Give me. She asks the Lord for a "gift" from Him. She cannot fulfill her own heart's desire nor change the circumstances in her life. She cannot seal the mouth of her adversary, escape the years of taunting and provocations, dull the pain in her heart, nor heal the grief that finds no contentment in anyone or anything else.
4. I will give...to the Lord. This was her commitment. Any gift given to her would be held with open hands and returned to the Lord for His purposes. She purposed that God's gift would not fatally embraced for selfish reasons, but released and enjoyed in the measure she was called to fulfill.

The Lord does not always give us exactly what we crave, but He always gives us that which is best. There are times when His answer will be like Hannah's and we receive exactly what we prayed for. There are other times where God's wisdom knows that what we ask for is not the best for us or for others or will not bring Him the greatest glory. And in these times, His grace is sufficient for us. And then there are times where His answer is His promise from Isaiah 30:18 "And therefore will the LORD wait, that He may be gracious unto you, and therefore will He be exalted, that He may have mercy upon you: for the LORD is a God of judgment: blessed are all they that wait for Him." Isn't that wonderful of God?

 

Don't listen to the lies that attack God's goodness. Don't turn your face to gaze at the cherub your heart desires and wonder if God sees, remembers, or cares at all about your affliction. But run past that provoker and let nothing stop you from gaining entrance to the Presence of the Lord at the throne of grace. Then pour out your heart as an offering to the Lord and trust the matter into His nail scarred hands.

Kayaking Conundrum

It was the "three hour tour" without Gilligan and Skipper. I'd never been kayaking before but after 10 minutes of sitting in one, my egotistical, self-confident, used-to-be-athletic self, was rehearsing the drill of escape once it tipped over. Our guide's last words, as I paddled away spasmodically from the pier were "Shannon, yours rolls a little more than the others." It took one swat at a bee to confirm that fact.

Since my husband took our little girl in a double kayak, I now doubted everything about his superhero status in the family. I was certain he was going to tip over and drown our kid. Images of the trauma so haunted me that I pulled out my phone (waterproof case) and texted my friend for prayer. I was ashamed of my fear but couldn't shake it. Shaking meant tipping over.

Our small crew of 12 disciples awkwardly mimicked "Follow the Leader" and paddled around a few islands, a few seals, and up the beautiful Bagaduce River. When we finally scooted the kayaks ashore at the local rest stop (a small beach and trees), we refueled with granola bars and water. Due to intense focus on my treasures in the double kayak, incorrect paddling techniques had completely depleted my Olive Oyl arm strength while my lower back decided to revolt by moving and pinching neighboring nerves that shot down my legs. Despite a forced smile to new comrades, I fell sideways getting out of my kayak and stood as gracefully as the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz after being cut down from his post. A rest could not have come at a more perfect time. The Lord knew.

"Now going back is going to be a little different." The guide's words snapped my head around. "The wind has picked up and we're going to be paddling against the current when we make our final stretch home. We are going to have to point the kayak at a landmark and paddle in a direction upstream but it will carry us straight back to the docks." Great. Contrary winds on top and disagreeable current below. Sounded like a familiar scenario for a different set of disciples.

Fast forwarding to the crossing of the bay...we all divided into groups so no one was left alone. Then we pointed our kayaks to a point far upstream from where we wanted to land and headed out. The winds were now whipping up little foam whitecaps, boats were sending out rumble strips we had to navigate, and stopping our rowing was not an option as the current would carry us far downstream. My husband told his excited non-rower to put her head down on the boat to help with the wind resistance and I developed whiplash constantly watching them as I tried to paddle towards our distant focal point. But just when I had not a drip left of strength (since I never mastered paddling technique), the current changed and pulled us all straight into our port.

Today, though I sit at my kitchen table, I feel like I'm back in that water spiritually amidst many disciples and treasures in other kayaks within my gaze. All of us following the Holy Spirit as Guide, listening to His instruction while rowing through our days, paddling against enemy winds and fierce undercurrents trying to force us off course. We are to always stay focused on the Lord Jesus, our landmark and lighthouse. At one point, right in the middle of the bay, I agonized watching my husband battle to make progress in a vessel much harder to navigate than my own. The guide must have seen my concern as she said to me, "Don't worry. If they can't make it, I'll pull up to his boat, anchor him to myself and pull him in. But they'll make it."I breathed.

Are these not the same words and heart that Jesus has for us in our final push towards heaven? Just stayed focused - "fixing our eyes on Jesus" Hebrews 12:2. Don't leave the group - "continued steadfastly in...doctrine and fellowship" Acts 2:42. Keep paddling forward - "but I press on...reaching forward" Philippians 3:12, 14. Then trust that when you have no strength, you have a Rescuer. A Deliverer. A Savior Who gave His life for your life. He's a Life preserver...forever. "...rescue me and deliver me; turn your ear to me and save me" Psalm 71:2. He will. Again and again.

A Soul Like Glass

Nearly everyone old enough to read has heard the phrase "pictures are worth a thousand words." It's why my phone, laptop and iPad comprise a monument-sized library within the folders marked "Photos." But there are times when the Lord gives us a snapshot that a thousand words would only diminish the meaning.

As my husband and daughter were being fit with life jacket's for a boat ride with a friend, I leaned against a wobbly, chipped paint railing and looked out across the saltwater bay in Castine, Maine. The winds had died down to a near whisper, sail boats had anchored, and the lobster boats had docked for the night. The only sounds I heard were the guys in the boatyard behind me talking about fishing, plans for the weekend and repairs needed to a couple of boats up on hoists. An Osprey swooped down, skated the water in front of me then launched skyward empty-clawed towards his nest nearby.

Then silence. Total silence. I didn't hear a footstep on the dock, a sailor's voice, a slap of water against a boat, nor a bird in the air. The water in front of me was a near solid glaze of mirror reflecting anything directly above it. The picture I took above was moments later because I was frozen in the silence as well.

His thoughts came to me, "My peace I give to you, not as the world gives. Don't let your heart be troubled nor afraid Shannon. When your soul rests in My peace, like this water, you will reflect Me more clearly to all who gaze on your life." The Lord tenderly spoke His words from John 14:27 while I stared at creation giving me an illustrated sermon. Then in my heart, I felt a stillness and a peace those thousand words can't describe. 

I never knew how noisy and turbulent my soul had become. My thoughts constantly churning with the winds of "what-ifs" about the days ahead, while a strong undertow of sorrow over loved ones hurting and issues in the ministry kept pulling me under. If my soul could've been seen in creation, you would've seen boats teetering back and forth, waves splashing with whitecaps, and conditions resembling that of a storm.

My heart spoke back to the Lord, "Father, I want my life and soul to reflect the God that hovers directly over my life. I want to mirror the reality of heaven above and the Prince of Peace that lives within. I never knew this contentment and security in heart until You breathed life in me. Please subdue all that is not of You and may Your perfect love cast out all this fear." Then I thought of Psalm 23 and our Great Shepherd Jesus, Who leads us to still waters and restores our soul. He was busy restoring this night...and then I jumped,

"MOMMY! Let me have Amos back!" I smiled as I returned a heart-patched teddy bear to my little one...then climbed aboard a ship that road the glass as though no waves existed.

Homecoming for Father's Day

After the plane landed, I sent a text to my husband "Don't come inside the airport. Just pick me up at the curb."

The plane stopped about 20 feet from the gate and a picture appeared on my phone with the words "When is Mommy coming?"

Heart melted I could only respond, "I will run."

When I read Jesus' words in Matthew 25:13, "Watch...for you know neither the day nor the hour in which the Son of Man is coming," this picture came back to my mind. A visual of how much the Lord longs for His children to be in heart when He comes to get us.

I sipped my morning coffee and whispered in prayer, "Happy Father's day. Forgive me for not being patient in waiting as I look through darkened glass for Your appearing (1 Cor. 13:12). Forgive me for the days I rather wait comfortably in my car of apathy, or busy about life until clearer notice that you are descending through heaven's corridor. I forget the joy Your Father heart must have when You see my eyes anchored with anticipation because of love and hands pressing against every obstacle anticipating Your embrace. Thank You for allowing me to feel this small glimpse of parental craving." As I stood waiting on the plane yesterday, I replayed coming around the corner and seeing her eyes filled with love that could barely wait for me and had cried several times over our separation. It made my heart swell.

What a Father we have that allows us to have pictures of His love for us scattered throughout our days. What an Abba Daddy that would leave His words to convey His heart's anticipation at our homecoming to heaven. "Blessed are those servants, whom the lord when he comes shall find watching" Luke 12:37.

I took a picture of this same little girl years ago. She couldn't talk yet but I had said to her, "Daddy is coming home soon" and her toddling legs pivoted around and awkwardly ran-fell towards the living room window. She stayed there until his car drove down the road and then with drool-covered fingers, she slapped at the glass and shouted with toothless joy. I pray that she and I both live out our days pressing and gazing and longing through life's dark glass with eyes fixed for the One Who loves us supremely and will take us home to our Father.

"In the same way, when you see all these things, 

you can know His return is very near, right at the door." NLT Matthew 24:33

"When Greeting Cards Fail on Mother's Day"

Hallmark failed me. DaySpring had no contenders. American Greetings, Blue Mountain Arts, and Jacquie Lawson are obviously out of touch with the relationship I have with my mother. I found not one card I could write on, underline, or send with confidence that someone expressed my heart. If I could take the humorous cynicism of a Maxine card, temper it with the faith of Really Woolly sheep, smother it with Blue Mountain sentiments, then seal it with a Gold Crown sticker of excellence - voila! Maybe I should've bought one of each, cut them up and decoupaged my own.

Yet, seeing I have none of these things, I'm going to give my mom a small public accolade this year. Eaves droppers are welcome, just stay hidden.

Dear Mom,

It seems that every Mother's Day, I try to list the ways in which I am thankful for the things you've done, the words you've spoken, or the times you have invested in my life. But another year has gone past and I see more of the benefits of your past decisions, understand better the effects of your present wisdom, and anticipate more fully the days that lie ahead. So here are more inadequate words from broken memories and poor reflections, but I pray you hear all that's inexpressible. Especially since we both know, you will never stop being my mother.

When you thought I wasn't listening:
    I heard you tell me that my words had to always be honest and trustworthy. That if I said it was snowing in Kentucky in July, you wouldn't have to look outside because you knew I would not lie. That if my words were empty at times, deceitful or dishonest, that all of my relationships would suffer.
     Jesus came into my life later and repeated your words. He showed me that He is Truth and speaking lies is cooperating with a very real devil. Thank you for speaking truth despite my rejection of it for years.

When you thought I wouldn't remember:
     I remember the time you gave someone at the toll booth a "Coke and a smile." You drove away with well wishes and joy, but their expression of surprise and gratitude was stamped across my heart to this day. I also remember peaking through living room curtains watching as the post man pulled up to the mailbox on a hot summer day and discovered a glass of freshly made iced tea waiting for him. Unexpected kindnesses to strangers...I watched.
     Years later, Jesus would echo the importance of kind acts that give to others, blessings extended while expecting nothing in return. Thank you for your practical demonstrations.

When you thought I wasn't looking:
     I remember your turning from relationships that offered friendship or more, yet did not value who you were or your role of motherhood. Especially the one that forced you to choose between your children or them...and with tears of pain, but not remorse, you chose your children.
     I had learned God's words in Sunday school that said "Children are a gift from the Lord" (Psalm 127:3). Thank you that you valued us more than your other friendships. Thank you that you didn't abort us before birth nor treat us as inconveniences and obstacles to your life.

When you thought it would be forgotten:
     I remember your flying out of bleachers and doing acrobatics through crowds whenever I was hurt during a softball or basketball game. I always heard your voice above a thousand, because it would cheer when others jeered, encourage when others condemned, and defend when others attacked. And yes, I do remember the smile you brought to my face when you recreated the LifeSavers commercial and offered me candy after a poorly played basketball game.
     I would eventually learn that Hebrews 12 says we are surrounded by a great crowd of witnesses watching us run our life race and we're to set our eyes solely on Him as He cheers us to the finish line. For all the ways you were your kids biggest fan, thank you.

When you thought it didn't matter:
     The cards you sent, the pictures you drew, the songs your wrote, the poems you crafted, the late-night hours you worked, the meals you made, the sick forehead you wiped, the laundry you cleaned...it all mattered despite thankless returns.
     I have learned that Jesus loved me while I was deep in sin, gave Himself with spiteful returns, and showered my life with blessings despite my unworthiness. Thank you for unconditional love in your actions.

I thank you for not rescuing me from the consequences of sin - it would've been easier, but you loved enough to let it sting me memorably. Thank you for long talks on the back patio that didn't minimize my heart when it was crushed nor did it mock my youthful mistakes. Thank you for not being critical towards others, but emphasizing that we needed to try to find the best in others. Thank you for not letting your role as a parent keep you from apologizing when needful or admitting your mistakes when they happened.

I will always thank the Lord for the ways He used you to shape this stubborn, strong-willed child. You are prone to remember your mistakes, have echoes of regrets, but Hebrews 11 shows that God did not record the mistakes of His people. Grace and love are His blankets that cover and cleanse those away. And these few things I've written merely scratch the surface of the wonderful ways you have been an incredible mother. Happy Mother's Day...I love you.