When every spare minute counts, you have to sort out what is truly important enough to talk or write about...
Every week has miracles in it. They are personal and boring to you, yet to me they are from God. That's why there is no glory or shame for me in sharing them...
Miracles last week: The quiet fifteen minutes every morning on the couch with my Bible and cup of coffee. It was God who woke me up and convicted me to try harder. { I am enjoying the book of Acts. Getting to know Peter at the beginning of his ministry helps link his epistle to my mind.}
More miracles: That school is becoming more ritualistic and easier in the everyday parts at least. That I ask God for help and He gives it. Abundantly.
That God keeps working on me to become more gentle, loving, and kind when my natural self would like to be blunt and brutal, sometimes careless. That He can change me even at one month shy of 40 years old. That He loves me enough to do that.
The miracle of friends is truly noticed when life is crazy. To see God doing His acts in the lives of my friends...confirmation of His power...
Noticing these names of Christ: Wonderful... Counselor... Everlasting Father... The Prince of Peace...
Noticing the nativity in the early morning hours when I tiptoe out to the dark kitchen to prepare the coffee. There they lay in the still and darkness. The Light of the World lying in the manger as innocent as all babies are, the mother smiling down as proudly as all mothers do. Flesh and blood, like you and me. I wondered, as I poured my coffee, Who fed Mary and Joseph the morning after the birth? I wanted to pour her a cup of coffee and sit down next to her in the hay and celebrate beside her. I wanted to ponder with her... The Savior of the World...
Realizing the miracle of forgiveness is for all...Noticing how some live without Christ and aching to show them what Wonderful, Counselor, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace...really means. Not being afraid of getting dirty or being uncomfortable while I do it. It may mean to rid myself of ideals like pretty packages tied up with strings. I might have to look beyond what I think I know about sin and salvation, by looking beyond the grime and gray world and seeing hearts and souls breaking and bleeding; hearts and souls reaching for love and peace and joy and hope. All of that. Truly a miracle.
Every week has miracles in it. They are personal and boring to you, yet to me they are from God. That's why there is no glory or shame for me in sharing them...
Miracles last week: The quiet fifteen minutes every morning on the couch with my Bible and cup of coffee. It was God who woke me up and convicted me to try harder. { I am enjoying the book of Acts. Getting to know Peter at the beginning of his ministry helps link his epistle to my mind.}
More miracles: That school is becoming more ritualistic and easier in the everyday parts at least. That I ask God for help and He gives it. Abundantly.
That God keeps working on me to become more gentle, loving, and kind when my natural self would like to be blunt and brutal, sometimes careless. That He can change me even at one month shy of 40 years old. That He loves me enough to do that.
The miracle of friends is truly noticed when life is crazy. To see God doing His acts in the lives of my friends...confirmation of His power...
Noticing these names of Christ: Wonderful... Counselor... Everlasting Father... The Prince of Peace...
Noticing the nativity in the early morning hours when I tiptoe out to the dark kitchen to prepare the coffee. There they lay in the still and darkness. The Light of the World lying in the manger as innocent as all babies are, the mother smiling down as proudly as all mothers do. Flesh and blood, like you and me. I wondered, as I poured my coffee, Who fed Mary and Joseph the morning after the birth? I wanted to pour her a cup of coffee and sit down next to her in the hay and celebrate beside her. I wanted to ponder with her... The Savior of the World...
Realizing the miracle of forgiveness is for all...Noticing how some live without Christ and aching to show them what Wonderful, Counselor, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace...really means. Not being afraid of getting dirty or being uncomfortable while I do it. It may mean to rid myself of ideals like pretty packages tied up with strings. I might have to look beyond what I think I know about sin and salvation, by looking beyond the grime and gray world and seeing hearts and souls breaking and bleeding; hearts and souls reaching for love and peace and joy and hope. All of that. Truly a miracle.
I read this in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep and it read like a cozy perfect post. I could totally see and feel everything. God bless you in your busyness and miracle discovering.
ReplyDeleteThank you Amy, I needed that encouragement. I love that you could see and feel what I was trying to say. That brings me contentment. Blessings back at you...
ReplyDelete