Ephesians 2:10 “For we (ME!) am God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us (ME!) to do.”

I grew up with a father who was a woodworker, not by trade, but as a hobby and more importantly, as a way to furnish his home with beautiful pieces of furniture fashioned from his own hands and tools. Later, as we children established our own homes he continued building pieces of furniture that filled our rooms too. Many times we received handcrafted pieces as a gift or upon personal request.

Dad was blessed with an ability to build beautiful furniture. I can still see him sitting in his chair, clipboard in hand, graph paper secured in place and his pencil gently gliding from square to square as he designed his next project. His printing and drawings were always completed with neatness  in mind and purpose. He was able to transfer his “vision” for a piece of furniture from his mind to paper, and then paper to each piece of wood put through the saw, router, sander…whatever tool was needed to complete the project.

From where I’m sitting please allow me to give you a tour of our home and tell you briefly what we have that was made by my dad. Our wedding gift was a curio cabinet. It holds small family heirloom items along with other things I have collected or saved over the course of our marriage. In the corner is a hutch that was in mom s dining room. I’m sitting on a bench at our dining table, built from one I spied in a catalog years ago.

Our sofa table is in the living room and proudly displays family photos. There’s a footstool to match a purchased rocker. The side wall is home to the bookcase which holds the encyclopedia set gifted to our children from their grandmother. The larger wall of the living room holds a clock, one of many that he handcrafted. I also remember the numerous trips to Chicago he and mom made in order to purchase the movements for each clock he built.

Both bathrooms have cabinets made by dad because they surpass  what can be purchased elsewhere. (At least that’s my opinion). Our headboard was not only made by dad, but he used wood that came from my brother’s property…double bonus!

In the basement is a wagon. It’s an original in every sense of the word. The blueprints for the “Dan Wagon” are registered and patented.  The wagon is showing a lot of wear, evidence of our son’s enjoyment. Next to the wagon is an equally worn out, tired horse. Both kids “rode” this horse into a state of needing rest and rejuvenation. (It’s waiting to be properly groomed by someone who knows tired horses).

This morning I read the verse at the top of this writing. A sense of awe I cannot describe descended on me. The kind of awe I’m feeling can only be explained as a deep sense of God’s love for me by “creating” me as an original. No duplicates. His “blueprint” was using His own image and tweaking it to be “me”. Part of the blueprint includes His “purpose” for me which was prepared in advance as well. God? Did you sit in Your favorite chair and use graph paper and a writing utensil as you visualized me? When the “exact look” was given to You, is that when you transferred Your “image” to paper? How many heavenly drawers did You open to retrieve those things that are called my “purpose”?

I’m the daughter of two fathers who possessed great workmanship. My earthly father used his own talents and “purpose” to bless his family and friends with pieces that will age with time. My heavenly Father used His abilities to create and bless me with spiritual gifts that still grow  and mature as long as I breathe…..but i know when I leave my earthy home and am joined in Heaven to my Father, those “things” I have fashioned with the use of my “gifts” and “purpose” will live on in homes , hearts and minds of my loved ones. At least that is my prayer. Part of that prayer includes asking God to encourage anyone who may be wondering about their. purpose or feeling insignificant. Can I tell you that in the morning quiet of my home today, God’s presence was yet overwhelmingly loud, profoundly loving. If He can do and “be” that for me, consider He is able for you too. I think I see Him picking up clipboard, paper, and a pencil. Something’s coming!

When my dad was employed as the chief building inspector for the city I grew up in, he met a man with a dream and desire to build a house. This gentleman, whom dad knew quite well, walked into the inspection department one morning, brandishing a new hammer held high in his hand, complete with the price tag still attached and declared to dad “I need a building permit; I want to build a house.” While that request would ordinarily be a welcome transaction, dad knew better than to pursue issuing the permit. You see, dad knew something. He knew his friend did not know how to use a hammer let alone undertake a massive building project. Dad was faced with two options,issue the permit and allow his friend to fail or discuss the enormity of the project and persuade him to hire a contractor. Dad chose the latter.

There was a second man who came to dad’s office one day with the same request. He wasn’t holding a hammer though; he was grasping a dream and desire to purchase a home and turn it into a place of ministry to young boys who were on the wrong path of life. Instead of a hammer, he was brandishing a deep scar across his face, most likely caused in one of his gang related fights as a teen or surviving the walls of prison where he found himself after losing the ability to escape the law enforcement system. His “hammer” was his deep abiding faith in Jesus which  he planned  to use rebuilding the wounded and destroyed lives that he was seeing all around him on the streets where he lived.

I see similarities between these two men as well as their differences. One had a tool, a dream, but no knowledge how to use it. The other had a dream, a tool, and a passion to fuel his knowledge. His dream was to “reach” young boys, to share his experiences and hopefully turn a life in the right direction. His “tool” was the Bible coupled  with faith and knowledge to speak from a heart that held experiences many don’t survive.

I don’t know the full ending to the first man’s request to build a home. I know that dad was able to talk him out of doing so, to reconsider. I also remember hearing dad tell me that the second man was successful in purchasing a home in the inner city, repairing it, and holding meetings that were alive with messages of hope, firm warnings, and hard truths stemming from God’s Word and his brutal years while imprisoned.

As I recalled these two stories from dad’s on-the-job days, I could not help but think I’m not unlike either of these men. I’ve never been proficient using a hammer, but not for lack of trying. There was a time in my life when I owned a Bible, but I didn’t read it. I never studied it. It was on a bookshelf collecting dust. But, for some reason I thought as long as I had that Bible I must “be all right”. But God. But His Holy Spirit. A relationship between Christ and me happened 38 years ago. His Voice spoke through the sermon of a beloved pastor and suddenly my  dusty Bible was removed, cleaned up, and was put to work rebuilding my life. I gleaned from the hard truths found in those pages and absorbed teachings from various ministers who shared God’s love for me along with testimonies of God’s goodness in their lives and others.

I fondly recall one of our church’s pastors telling a few us one time “I am always amazed when I visit folks in their home. They’ll have a beautiful Bible on the coffee table in perfect condition, thinking I’ll be impressed. Nothing could be further than the truth. Instead, show me a Bible with well worn pages, writing on pages and margins, with a cover barely intact. That’s what I want to see.” I’ve never forgotten that example. I took it to heart and am amazed that at my age I’ve already worn out a few Bibles doing exactly what he described.

God is my hammer. My hammer is the Bible. Together I think we’ve built a pretty good life together with more adventures to come!

In the midst of an ordinary day or week lies the possibility to entertain a variety of emotions. As humans we come pre-equipped with a wide range of emotions and feelings, from deep sorrow to over the moon happiness. Both can cause us to explode, can’t they?

Off and on for the past several weeks I’ve been experiencing some disappointment and sadness  and in the course of responding to these specific feelings, I’m also exercising newly learned principles to take responsibility for myself, my own words, thoughts and any subsequent actions. To do so contrary to that teaching, causes me to run the risk of trying to fix, rescue, control, manipulate, pout, become co-dependent and even angry. Furthermore, there’s an old habit I’m also working on breaking and that’s drawing others into my situation, those who don’t belong in my “living room of emotions” until I’ve worked through these things in my own head and heart. I’m beginning to rely on the One Person I can run to first when challenges come my way. I’m turning to God first; others as needed come secondary or maybe not at all.

My daily Bible reading took me to Genesis 8 which describes the aftermath of God flooding the earth, how the waters receded and Noah releasing a raven and then a dove to determine if dry land had appeared on the face of the earth. The raven kept flying back and forth until the water dried up on the earth. How long did that lone bird stay airborne? The answer isn’t given but I’m imagining it was a long time and that the poor bird had to have grown weary being in flight for many days and nights. Aren’t some of our challenges similar to the raven? We find ourselves in a state of distress, deep sorrow, maybe even fear and we ask “how long do I have to be in this place?….when will I see a break though?”

As we continue reading in the chapter we witness Noah sending a dove after observing the raven’s flight pattern. The dove couldn’t find a place to land and unlike the raven, returned to Noah and the safety of the ark. The ark became a place of rest for the dove–again–after having been on board for many days! Noah, after waiting a week, released the dove a second time. That evening the dove returned to Noah bearing an olive leaf in its mouth. The leaf was “fresh”, not spoiled. The leaf gave Noah the information he needed–dry land was out there! Yet, before disembarking from the massive boat that was his protection and home, he sent the dove out again, but this time the bird did not return. Indeed, dry land had appeared and the dove must have done what it was created to do–thrive on land and in the air.

How often have I behaved like the raven–launching myself into a frenzy of worry and over-thinking–unable to settle and rest. Can I be more like the dove, who was unable to settle down and rest, and rather than stay in an airborne frenzy, returned to her place of rest, her safe place, back to Noah. She knew where to go and when to return.

I underlined the verse that said the dove brought a freshly picked olive leaf. Not a branch, a leaf. A delicate, light weight, beautiful green leaf. Traditionally used in cultures as a symbol of peace and reconciliation–extending an olive branch–a quickening in my spirit encouraged me that I can be assured that in the midst of uncomfortable circumstances, I can reach for hope and know that “new life” is waiting for me–more specifically–“new changes”.

Like Noah sending out a dove, I can reach–extend my thought life heavenwards and ask “how long will this last Father? When will I see a break through?” The dove and its olive branch are reminding me that I can “reach for hope”. I also know that I may have to “wait” a little bit…maybe a week, maybe a month, maybe longer. Although I’m in God’s presence, being so doesn’t promise me I’m on his time-table. After all, the great flood took 40 days and nights of rain, of heavenly and earthly floodgates being opened and pouring water from above and below the ark. When the rain stopped, it was over 150 days before dry land appeared. Noah and his family had nowhere to escape because they didn’t need to once on board the ark. They were fully protected and completely provide for during their journey of a life time! Their “new life” and “new changes” came when they were able to open the door of the ark and walk on dry land. Was the land wet under their feet? Did they sink at all when walking about investigating their new surroundings? Did they find the olive grove where the dove plucked her luscious leaf? We don’t know. We aren’t told. What we ARE told is that Noah built an altar and worshiped the Lord. At the end of a horrible ordeal for himself and his family, he worshiped. He offered a sacrifice. He acknowledged the One who gave him a crazy plan to build a boat to soar above a plan of massive destruction, yet come to “rest” at a place of “new beginnings”….”new hope”…”a new promise”.

I am learning a lot from one verse. Genesis 8:11. ….’there in its beak was a freshly plucked olive leaf’. There in the midst of my sadness and disappointment will come a freshly plucked olive leaf and I will gladly accept it. With my olive leaf in hand, I will return to my source of “safety” and “rest” which is my Father’s lap with big strong arms extended to embrace me when I need to  return and consistently “go” to for hope and all that goes with it to bring a break through.

In the midst of recent publicity regarding Bruce Jenner declaring  he is really a woman, I have some thoughts regarding the topic. I’ve been mulling over and over in my mind what I’d say to those who have decided  Mr. Jenner is the epitome of ‘courage’ and ‘bravery’ for what he claims is finally being able to confront what he’s believed for a very long time, that he’s a woman trapped inside a man’s body. In addition, I’ve also given thought to what I might say if I had an audience with Jenner.

Because Facebook is my go-to social media site, that is the platform that has shown me various opinions that are pro and con towards Jenner. Showing up in my news feed are photos of what many of you in my circle of friends consider to be ‘courage’ or ‘bravery’ in light of his declaration of gender identification. Some of those I’ve witnessed include but are not limited to:

• a photo of two soldiers on the battleground
• firefighters rescuing a small child from a burning building
• amputees competing in a marathon

Do I think the three that I’ve listed above exhibit courage and bravery? Absolutely. Comparing Jenner’s announcement that he believes his gender identification is that of a female, do I also believe that’s a definition of courage and bravery? Yes, I do. Having said that, however, does not dismiss my misgivings about how much publicity is being given to Jenner merely because he is a celebrity. If he were a member of a small community, going to work everyday, enjoying his family and social connections would his announcement be given the same attention? I don’t believe it would. Unless an incident is captured on film or in print, it runs the risk of being unnoticed or unrecorded.

I acknowledge Jenner’s willingness to put himself in front of the public cameras once again, only this time for a very controversial and deeply personal topic.  I would like his defenders to deeply consider that indeed, just as courage and bravery come in the form of those who go to war, fight fires, run races missing a leg or an arm, there are many individuals who have chosen to overcome tremendous obstacles in their own lives and have not gained any amount of public attention outside of family and friends. Consider:

• a young man recently diagnosed with cancer. He’s going through chemo treatment, fighting for his life
• the young woman who has lived for years in marriage, only to be betrayed and is now a single parent
• a young family whose child died unexpectedly, having shown no signs of illness
• the many men and women in our nation who are unemployed, struggling every day to pay bills and feed families or themselves
• the loss of an infant, only weeks old following a healthy delivery
• On a global scale, the innocents who are being killed every day by extremist militants

From my own family experiences, I share about these times when courage needed to replace fear:

• Learning about my dad being called to serve in the Korean Conflict, leaving my mother home with my two older brothers. She didn’t even know how to drive at that point in their marriage.
• Hearing my mother utter the word ‘cancer’ during an unsuspecting Sunday afternoon telephone conversation and later caring for her in the last 3 days of her life
• Holding vigil by my mother-in-law’s hospital bed as she succumbed to the effects of emphysema
• Putting my oldest child on a plane to go serve on the mission field in a country torn by poverty, not once but three times
• Watch and care for a father ravaged by the effects of Alzheimer’s disease

Both lists have the potential to be  exhaustive examples of emotional and physical pain. My attempt at describing what brings me to tears may not do justice to those in my circle of influence who are suffering in one way or another, so by no means am I diminishing what anyone else is enduring right now in the face of great adversity.

So, if I had a conversation with Jenner, I would have to tell him that although I am unable to comprehend his personal struggle and while I may not agree with the amount of publicity and controversy surrounding his desired transformation, at the end of the day I would choose he be treated with compassion rather than hero status. I would remind him that his decisions leave many in his family angry, confused, and sharing a public limelight they didn’t ask for by merely carrying his name. I would remind him that no degree of manipulation to his physical body changes the fact that he was born a male. No matter how much he thinks about being a woman, he will never know that distinction. His body can plant a seed of life, but he cannot bring one forth. He can offer hugs and kisses to a newborn, but he cannot give life sustaining nourishment offered by the delicacy of mother’s milk. To claim he is a woman is a certain untruth. He can only masquerade as one. Therein lies the heartache I feel for Jenner. Those who defend Jenner say that he should ‘no longer have to live a lie’. With all due respect, I have to disagree. Jenner’s physical parts define him as male. His mind can take him to all his imaginary experiences living as a woman, but that’s as far he will go–the boundaries of dreams that cannot become a reality. Even if he achieves alterations to his body giving him breasts, takes medications to prohibit the growth of hair in unwanted places, applies makeup to enhance his  eyes and lips, he is still trapped in a posture of ‘living a lie’.

Allow me to go on record stating that I do not dislike Jenner based on his announcement that he wants to be a woman. He’s made his decision and his followers are fueling his temporary popularity. The words ‘courageous’ and ‘brave’ have been assigned to him during this time, but soon they will fade along with the disappearance of his name and face from magazine covers. What remains will be the possibility of continued inner turmoil as he tries to redefine a body that can only be masked and perhaps a society that will take a long, hard look at the choices of words used to describe someone’s life decisions. In our different lives we are all courageous. We are all brave.

Road Cycling
Posted on April 29, 2015

Today I went out for the second ride of the spring. Doing so made me feel very excited and thrilled to enjoy somesunshine while putting myself through a workout. The excitement caused me to dream big and visualize how far I would ride in order to get in a decent workout. Boy, do I dream big or do I assume I am able to do more than is realistic considering I’m still going from winter couch to athletic gear.

I perform real well when I’m on the paved part of our road, but when I hit the gravel all odds seem to be against me. Besides paying attention to traffic flow going both directions, the gravel part of our road has taken on the rough edges of an old tyme laundry washboard. Once I find a groove to stay steady on my bike, I am challenged with new soft gravel that’s been put down after the frost has left the ground, covering winter’s previous potholes big enough to swallow a toddler!

After getting a bit into my ride, I did find a steady pace, in spite of the obstacles and I rode a fair distance, 3.18 miles. Traffic was light, a slight breeze cooled me on my round trip, and a stop at the neighborhood creek gave me some welcome beauty seeing the continued progress of spring replacing winter’s harshness against the trees and banks shoring the water. I watched twigs and other items float downstream in the otherwise quiet of my ride.

Riding gave me time to think, ability to ponder how my life can take on the characteristics of a road. Some areas of my life are smooth and others have rough edges waiting for me or someone else to come along lending a helping hand with a patch or pile of what’s needed to keep me strong and useful for others. Those same thoughts reminded me that I need to be that kind of person for others as well when life’s struggles seem too big or difficult visuilizing their own successes.

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I like reading the Psalms, especially with the corresponding date of the calendar. Finding nuggets of God’s truth and traits of His character aways excites me and gives me encouragement .

Today, as I read through Psalm 3 several times, I decided to circle action words. Doing so helps me to ‘digest’ and better absorb the depth behind the words in each verse. This type of exercise also forces me to single out key words and their definitions. In verses 3  throuh 5 thisis what I discovered. God is: a shield ** a bestower ** a lifter ** an answerer  **a sustainer. I decided to define these  traits a bit further and made an expanded list: By shielding He is protecting **by bestowing He is gifting, giving honor, granting **by answering He is replying  **He hears my questions  **by sustaining He fills me with strength to keep going when I am weary.

David wrote this Psalm when he was fleeing  from Absalom. Knowing that kind of fear–the kind when an enemy is in hot pursuit–isn’t a level I can comprehend. The closest I can relate to David is my commitment to be ‘in health’ and overcome some chronic pain issues that plague me. Depending on my decisions pertaining to proper nutrition, exercise and rest each day has the potential to present challenges. On particular uncomfortable days, I turn to the Psalms for encouragement, strength, and hope.

Additionally, when David penned this psalm, not only did he remind himself of ‘what’ God can do, he turned his fearful circumstances into a prayer. Knowing he could cry out to God had to have given David a sense of deep hope. In verses 7 through 8 David asked God to: deliver **strike all his enemies **break the teeth of the wicked because he knew that would bring ‘deliverance’…..freedom. Upon reading these latter verses one might think that David’s prayer was asking God to be pretty harsh with his enemies. We must remember that David was a seasoned warrior and he had a heart after God’s. Being bold and fully honest, David was also describing and teaching us (me) that as one of God’s children–caught in a bad place–surrounded by enemies or battling physical struggles–we (I)  can ask for extreme help!

I want an ‘extreme’ God. I want a God who is extravagant with everthing good that He ‘has’ for me and ‘does’ for me. I want to be behind His ‘shield’ of protection and stand with open hands to receive my ‘bestowed’ gifts. Furthermore, I want to live a life of ‘deliverance’ from sin and the ‘freedom’ that comes with His gift of redemption. As I continue to pursue health–making wise choices in conjunction with seeking wisdom from Him–I will: lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the Lord sustains me. (vs. 5)

It’s cold today, a chilling 11 degrees even though the sun is shining brightly against blue skies with very few clouds in sight. The sun’s reflective rays are dancing on top of the snow that fell last week and gave us a blanket to cover the dryness of dead grass and muddy piles created by a brief thaw in the midst of winter. When the snow is deep and not much old growth from last summer’s blooms are left for the bunnies and birds to forage, I take comfort in providing bird seed or a suet cake for their dining pleasure. Dried pieces of bread sometimes are added to the area where our resident critters visit. I never tire of seeing who visits the cake that hangs from one of the pine tree branches outside of our bedroom window.

This morning a woodpecker made a dining reservation and enjoyed the suet for quite awhile. As he swayed to and fro in the movement created by his own antics of hanging on to the cage, I marveled at his endurance in the cold and seemingly lack of concern for other birds who may want to feast as well. In fact, the smaller birds who stay during the winter months seemed content to stay on the ground and pick up the crumbs left behind from his steady pickings at the suet.

Watching birds, no matter what time of year, intrigue me. They are a consistant reminder for me about how much God loves me and goes to great measures to protect me…to provide for me…to surround me with many good things. Isaiah 46:4 says ” Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” (While I don’t believe I have truly reached ‘old age’, I do have gray hairs.) I have never doubted that God created me, but there have been too many times in my life when I have doubted God’s promise to provide, sustain, and rescue. Those times were clouded with depending on myself or someone else instead of fully relying on God. Fortunately, when I reflect back on those incidents, whichever they be, I can definitely say with confidence that God always did ‘provide’, always ‘sustained’ me, and ‘rescued’ me when I wandered from His umbrella of protection.

On a cold wintry day the birds know where to find food to sustain them. For me, I’m inside a nice, warm, comfortable home and I know where to find ‘food’ too….inside the pages of my Bible. Spiritual food is important for my well-being. Like physical food for the body, I need God’s Word to feed my spirit, especially when I feel empty, lost, or lacking. Much like the woodpecker who hangs tightly onto the suet cage, I find myself hanging onto the promises of God that fill the pages of His Word. In times of danger I can ask for a ‘hedge of protection’ to be round about me. Psalm 121: 7-8 says “The Lord will keep you from all harm–he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” When I feel lost, God will seek me among the darkness of my wanderings for “He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.” (Isaiah 40:11)

Do birds worry about daily provision? I don’t have a clue to that question. Using the instincts placed within their own created minds, they forage for seeds and visit the seed put out by loving hands. They know how to seek shelter, how to remain protected, and how to fly with great freedom. God’s Word, written by many hands inspired with great love, is my own food to satisfy my daily hunger. Every book, each thought was inspired by His Holy Spirit and is useful to teach me…correct me…rebuke me…sustain me…feed me…protect me. I know how to satisfy my ‘hunger’ and am thankful that I don’t have to go very far to find ample portions.  When the winds of life are blustery and threatening, I will hang on tightly. When I sense danger, I will keep a watchful eye and remember God’s faithfulness to protect me. When I falter or forget to be ‘sustained’ and ‘steadfast’ I will remember the antics of a beautiful woodpecker having a breakfast date with a cake of suet.

Several weeks ago I was fortunate to have picked raspberries before the first heavy frost that fall had to offer. I almost did not make the trip and now, looking back, I am so thrilled that I did because I came home with about four quarts of berries. We delighted in those fresh berries, but most of them made their way into freezer bags to tantalize our taste buds when the snow is flying and piling up during the winter months, giving us a break from the usual purchases of fruit that the stores have to offer.

I was by myself on the morning I chose to pick the berries. The sun was shining but there was a very brisk, sharp breeze in the air making me happy that I chose to wear a sweatshirt with a hood. As I approached the berry plants I was surprised at how many still had fruit hanging from the branches. With my bucket in tow, actually tied about my waist, I began my task. Not too soon into my picking experience I realized that I was beginning to learn some lessons that came in word pictures for me as I worked my way among the ample supply of berries.

1. Picking raspberries is tedious work. My bucket seemed small until I began to notice that it was going to take a bit longer than anticipated to cover the bottom neverless fill it to the brim. Because I can be impatient I began to ponder if I was really enjoying this experience.

2. Some of the best berries were hidden. I had to kneel, bend, squat, and look twice to find some of the best berries which meant taking hold of a thorny branch and turning it over to find sweet, red berries. Doing so often paid off in a handful of wonderful, red fruit plus a prick or two from a thorn. Ouch!

3. I spilled my bucket of berries in the grass–twice. That was no fun. As I attempted to retrieve the fruit of my labor I discovered I was having a difficult time not getting grass and other plant life in my bucket. Argh!

4. Every once in awhile a bee or two buzzed around my shoulders or hands as I worked. I even met a small black spider who was minding his own business as he made his way across a leaf. He had good company from small beetles who were busy chewing holes in the leaves of the plants. I chuckled. A friendly sign in the shed warned me that the bees were busy at work, as well as other creatures of nature. Smile!

5. Before too long my bucket was full and my back was sore. So were my legs. My cheeks were chilled from the air and my resolve to go home with ample berries was satisfied.

During the time it took me to pick my berries I could not help but think of how they were teaching me about God and my relationship with Him.

1. Spending time with God is sacrificial. I show up ’empty’ like my little bucket, but soon, as I spend time in His Word, I am ‘filled’, sometimes to overflowing. If I don’t rush through my time with Him, I find treasures galore.

2. Some of God’s treasures are hidden. Like the best berries, in order to find and claim God’s gems for me I have to dig deep into His Word. I can’t be satisfied to read on the surface; I need to dive in feet and all.

3. I don’t always hold onto God’s promises. I have a tendency to walk through days that stretch into weeks of neglecting to remind myself of who I am in Christ…His child who was chosen, set apart, forgiven, made holy and blameless. The list is exhaustive. These are some of my favorites.

4. Like the thorns from the berry bushes that prick skin and cause irritation, sin creeps into my life, sometimes quite subtly. I need to remind myself every day to be on guard and gird myself with the Word of God and dress myself in the Armor of God knowing that no weapon formed against me shall prosper.

5. Spending time reading God’s Word and talking to Him has benefits beyond description. Doing so isn’t a checkmark on a “to do” list that later gets an announcement to friends and family “hey, look what I did–I spent time with God!” On the contrary, it’s rewarding time whose benefits naturally overflow into the lives others and my family as we live in our relationships.

I like raspberries but I love God. I like a full bucket of berries but I long for the fullness of God. I want to be fast when it comes to picking berries. I want God to take His time as He continues to mold me to His perfection. I can tolerate bees, beetles and spiders. I am ashamed when sin enters my life.

My four quarts of berries in the freezer will not last a long time as we begin to enjoy them this winter. My portions with God cannot be contained. In fact, they cause my spiritual bucket to tip over….and this time when I scoop up the treasures there are no ‘weeds’ to contend with as I refill my bucket.

We reached another milestone as parents on April 27. Our son Daniel graduated from Eastern Michigan University with his bachelor’s degree, majoring in Marketing. While we celebrate and continue to bask in the glory of his successes, it seems like yesterday that he got on the school bus and began his public school education. All too clearly I can remember the stubborn difficulties he presented at kindergarten round-up declaring “I don’t have any” when asked to name his body parts. And, being slightly scolded at his first parent-teacher conference in kindergarten that ‘Dan doesn’t color in the lines’. He also liked to run in the school hallways rather than walk and as he grew and maneuvered through those succeeding years he continued to challenge his teachers and us.

No, Dan didn’t color in the lines but he did like to draw. Not sharing the names of his body parts gave way to his becoming a modest young man, one who has often kept his thoughts and feelings private except in the face of fierce competition or deep loss. He also used his ‘speed’ to his advantage as an accomplished athlete from the time he could join organized sports teams. Football was his favorite and as a family we never tired from watching him. Admittedly, I miss those days and often secretly wish he could have played at college level.

Dan is also very loyal and we marvel at the many close friendships he still maintains with young men and women that were in school with him. He has chosen solid relationships well and continues to live an adventurous life surrounded by some pretty neat individuals. One of his best buddies Michael is serving in the United States Air Force, has lived in several states and Dan has been able to take the time and energy to visit. He’s very proud of his friend’s own accomplishments with his military career.

Dan’s degree is in Marketing. Several weeks before his graduation commencement was approaching he was home for an overnight visit and I asked him his plans career-wise. His response was “I’d like a sales position. Mom, I can talk a cat off a salmon truck”. How I laughed and secretly smiled on the inside. He’s so much like his grandpa, my dad. Quiet. Reserved. Witty. All at proper timing too I might add.

The characteristic that I most admire about Dan is his love for family and a caring, sensitive spirit in great times of need. I have several most memorable moments of him exhibiting deep compassion whether in his body language or a few well spoken words. I won’t be sharing those in this blog; those are matters of the heart for me and out of respect for his humility and not enjoying ‘public revelation’ they will remain in the vault of the place I call “a mother’s heart”.

Yes, my youngest child has reached a major milestone in his life. He is now the holder of a college degree, one in which he made all the decisions to pursue, relying on his own searchings and mentoring advice along the way. He worked hard, stayed the course, and never complained except when questioning the validity of several required courses. I’m glad he never ‘colored in the lines’ or ‘always ran versus walking’ because doing so showed me that my son isn’t afraid to be an individual, then or now. I’m proud that he respects proper authority, yet isn’t afraid to question those above him. After all, isn’t that how we learn?

So, Dan’s milestone marker is positioned and solidly in place–April 2014–College Graduate. It’s situated along the path of his life, waiting for his footsteps to make more impressions as he continues the journey of his life. Similar to the years that he played football, I will be on the sidelines cheering him on to victory and encouraging him on the days that defeat or setbacks weave themselves into his circumstances. Most importantly, I will be praying for the next milestone to come into view as he navigates the next part of his road.

He will not be afraid of evil tidings; His heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord. (Psalms 112:7 NKJV)

What is a steadfast heart? It is the person who endures patiently, who is reliable, faithful and true to the end, who exhibits perseverance.

The old woman lay in her bed in the nursing home that had become her final residence while suffering with cancer. She missed her home which had been built for her and her husband as a gift from their children. Years of hardship and oftentimes poverty stricken days were no longer a permanent influence in her life. Those challenges were always met with a heart of gratitude and a voice crying out to The Lord her provider.

In her final weeks, days, and hours this side of Heaven her heart did not change, and her voice though weak from the illness dwelling deep in her bones had no effect on her steadfastness and trust in The Lord. Always one to be concerned with others over her own needs, she listened to the cries and moaning from other residents in nearby rooms. As a nurse would enter the woman’s room to care for her needs her quiet admonition was “I’m all right, take care of the others first.” And she would ask, “Do they know Jesus? I’m praying for them.”

That woman was my Grandmother Jewell. She died when I was 14 years old. I didn’t spend a lot of alone time with grandma because when we visited on Sunday afternoons there were at least half a dozen other grandchildren present biding for her love and attention which we did receive, yet there weren’t a lot of opportunities to crawl up on her lap or cuddle next to her in a chair. Nonetheless, we knew of her deep faith by her example and by the legacy of stories shared by her children.

To have a steadfastness in The Lord that is described as enduring with patience, is reliable and true to the end is an ample description of my grandma. It is an old woman, ridden with cancer, praying while in the confines of a bed making use of the precious time granted to her by a loving Father.

I wonder. How many souls from that nursing home are in Heaven because of my grandmother? The answer lies within the pages of the Lamb’s Book of Life.

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Father, may I learn to have a heart that is steadfast and grow in faith that trusts You completely in all matters. Teach me not to fear. Teach me to fully rely on You when hard times fall upon me and evil lurks in my midst. Remind me that You are always with me. Amen