Snow Day

Be still and know that I am God.
Psalm 46:10

Soul-soothing Scene

It’s a rare snow day here in metro-Atlanta. I’ve spent the past several hours at my kitchen table, where I have a front-row seat to the view unfolding in my woods. The forecasted wintry mix greeted me when I came downstairs this morning, but the temperature has dropped since, and the precipitation has gradually changed to snow.

Watching the gently falling flakes soothes my soul. Somehow it always seems quieter, more peaceful when it’s snowing. And oh, how I need some soul-soothing peace and quiet after the past week.

A Monumental Move

In my last post, I alluded to upcoming changes.[1] We were fortunate to find a compassionate, experienced live-in caregiver to stay with my 90-year-old father after his stroke last fall. However, it became evident over the ensuing weeks that staying in the big house he and Mom shared for the past 24 years wasn’t the preferred long-term solution.[2]

Thankfully, the stroke did minimal lasting harm, but lingering cognitive issues and potent blood thinners make it inadvisable for Dad to live by himself. Thus, at his suggestion, we found an assisted living facility with a cozy one-bedroom apartment and set about planning for his move.

Details, Details

In reality, after we signed the contract, arranging all the details associated with the move became my responsibility since Dad is now easily confused by such minutiae. Informing his caregiver, hiring movers, filling out all sorts of paperwork, obtaining medical records and health screenings – the list was long. And, once we agreed on the move date, there was little room for error.

One week out, I began to wake up at night, mentally reviewing the requirements and deadlines. Sometimes I drifted back to sleep quickly, having successfully cast my cares upon the Lord (1 Peter 5:7), while other nights, my wakefulness stretched from minutes into hours.

Nevertheless, the process was moving along in a timely manner. Then, with less than 24 hours before the movers were scheduled to arrive, it looked like everything would derail. There was confusion regarding one of Dad’s prescriptions, so his primary care physician wouldn’t sign off on the paperwork required for the assisted living staff to administer his medication. The bloodwork for his TB screening was “indeterminate,” so I had to take him for a chest x-ray. We arrived less than half an hour before the imaging facility closed. And then there was the potential stopper of all stoppers: the result of his Covid test. Would it and the chest x-ray arrive in time? Would they be negative?

Oh Me of Little Faith

My anxiety sky-rocketed. I expect my blood pressure was off the charts too. I flung multiple prayers heavenward and kept going. Thoughts such as, “What if Dad’s stuff gets moved to his new apartment and his Covid results are positive and he can’t go?” ran rampant. Though the what-ifs almost overcame me, I didn’t cancel the movers. I continued to pray and sent an SOS to several of my staunchest prayer warriors, pleading with them to join me.

Several hours later, as I was organizing piles and emptying drawers in preparation for the movers’ arrival, the peace that had eluded me earlier quieted my anxious thoughts. Although it was fine for me to outline specific details in my prayers, by rehearsing them incessantly, I was acting as if God didn’t already know each one, as well as their ramifications, even better than I did. That acknowledgment, coupled with prayers that His will be done, finally squelched my stress. I knew if it was His will for Dad to move the next day, nothing would prevent it, and if it wasn’t, then God had a good reason for him not to go.

I awoke early the following day and checked my email. The PCR test results were available. I prayed as I scrolled and rejoiced when I saw: NEGATIVE. Other messages conveyed more good news: the chest x-ray was clear, and Dad’s PCP had signed the requisite paperwork. Dad could make the move along with his things.

Dust Moments

As is often the case when I’ve worry-warted over a critical outcome, the tears that instantly sprang to my eyes were a combination of relief and thankfulness mixed with remorse for doubting God and not trusting Him completely with the situation.

Several days later, I realized when I become anxiously frantic, the underlying cause is usually a subconscious assumption: “It’s all up to me. If I fail, all is lost. The world, or at least my little corner of it, is depending on me to hold it together.”

After nearly 50 years of walking with the Lord, you would think I would have outgrown such unfounded, even arrogant, notions. In fact, I took an intense refresher course this time last year as Mom was living out her final weeks.[3] But, alas, it appears I  have to relearn the lesson periodically.

And so I’m thankful for my compassionate heavenly Father, Who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love (Exodus 34:6). He knows I’m dust and loves me anyway (Psalm 103:13-14).

His Part, My Part

From my vantage point at the table, I’ve not only been able to watch the snow, but I’ve also been able to keep an eye on the birds. They descended on the feeders as soon as I returned them to their hooks this morning, and there has been a steady stream of hungry visitors ever since.

Observing them and writing about the past week’s events reminded me of a recent conversation with my grandchildren. We were talking about pets and noted I no longer have any furry house companions.

I added, “But I have my birds! They’re my outside pets.”

Five-year-old Emma quipped, “Those aren’t your birds, Grammie. Those are the world’s birds.”

I acceded, “You’re right, Emma. They’re God’s birds, but He lets me help take care of them.”

And so it is with my loved ones. They belong to Him, and He allows me to help take care of them. He has a plan for them and me, and His purposes will prevail (Isaiah 55:8-11).

Heavenly Father, thank You for the quiet beauty of this day and the opportunity to be still in Your presence. Thank You that You are our compassionate Father, well-acquainted with the frailties of our finite flesh, yet always abounding in love for Your children.


[1] Please see “Age-old Assurances for a New Year.”

[2] Mom passed away last April.

[3] Please see “Who’s in Control?” in Archives, September 2021.

Age-old Assurances for a New Year

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”
Lamentations 3:21-24

Downcast

It’s a rainy afternoon in Georgia, and my mood matches the scene outside my window. For as long as I can remember, I’ve used the last few days of December to reflect on the year just past and plan for the one ahead. But a week of isolation due to a positive Covid test may have given me too much time for my yearend ruminations.

Recent celebrations hammered home the resounding headline for 2021: Mom’s gone. The New Year won’t change that or bring her back.

And, already looming on the horizon, more significant changes for our family, the details and what-ifs of which are disconcerting. Plus, there will no doubt be challenges currently known only to God.

Fighting for Joy

As you may have gleaned from my last couple of posts, though, I’ve been valiantly fighting for joy throughout this first holiday season without Mom by counseling my heart with truth. This post is no different, so I’ll let Scripture do the talking for a while:

  • Deuteronomy 31:8: “It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.”
  • John 16:33: “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”
  • Romans 8:28: And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.
  • 2 Corinthians 4:17: This light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.
  • James 1:2-4: Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

Proven O’er and O’er

Scripture is the inspired word of God and to be trusted regardless of our feelings or circumstances; however, one of the things I like best about growing older is I have more and more real-life examples of God’s faithfulness and trustworthiness to recall. As the lyrics to ‘Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus say, “Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him! How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er! Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus! O for grace to trust Him more!”[1]

There will be challenges this year, but the Lord has never left or forsaken me, and He never will. In fact, He uses the hard things to draw me closer to Him, to grow my faith, and to comfort and encourage me so that I might comfort and encourage others with the same comfort and encouragement I’ve received (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).

And, just as there are unknown difficulties ahead, there will be joy and blessing beyond what I can ask or imagine because God does work all things together for good for His beloved children.

Encourage One Another

I don’t know how you’re feeling today, dear reader. Maybe you’re entering the new year buoyed by fun family gatherings, having enjoyed all your favorite foods and traditions. Then again, you may be like me, fighting for joy, having engaged in those traditions without a loved one, and facing more changes in the near future.  

Regardless of our circumstances, we can take heart in knowing we belong to the One who never changes (Hebrews 13:8). Our loving Heavenly Father is always working out His purposes according to His good and perfect plans and will see them through to completion, when Jesus returns to set all things right. Therefore, let us encourage our own hearts and one another with all we know to be true as we await His promised return.

Dear Lord, thank You that we can come to You with our joys and sorrows, our hopes and fears, knowing that You are a compassionate Father who remembers we are dust. Your mercies are new every morning, and your grace is sufficient for each day. Thank You that we’ll never face life alone because You are with us, now and forever.

P.S. Since I started this post some three hours ago, the rain has stopped, and the sun has peeked out a time or two, providing the amen to my thoughts.


[1] Louisa M. R. Stead

Overwhelmed

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places.
Ephesians 1:3

This post is based on an article I wrote for the November/December edition of our church’s bi-monthly women’s ministry newsletter. Instead of getting bogged down in all the to-dos of the holiday season, I wanted to remind my sisters in Christ and myself to stay focused on the blessings God poured out on us when He sent Jesus. I had no idea then how much I’d need the message in the weeks that followed. But God did.

Perspective

What came to your mind when you read the title of this post? Was your initial reaction positive or negative? Usually, when I say I’m overwhelmed, I’ve reached the point of waking up in the middle of the night, wondering how I’ll ever get everything done.

A quick check of Merriam-Webster online  yields results that support the negative connotations of the verb:

1: to upset, overthrow

2a: to cover over completely: submerge b: to overcome by superior force or numbers c: to overpower in thought or feeling

However,  inspired by our pastor’s sermon series on Ephesians, I’ve recently been pondering a more positive take on the word.  In Ephesians 1:3-14, the Apostle Paul gushes over God’s blessings in Christ:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory.

I’ve read that passage many times, but the idea of Paul gushing over God’s goodness is new to me. Yet that’s precisely what he’s doing! I imagine him exalting God, nearly breathless, as he recounts all the blessings that are ours in Jesus. Pastor David has encouraged us to do likewise and allow ourselves to be overwhelmed by God’s goodness toward us.

The Holiday Hustle

As the holiday season ramps up, so does my sense of overwhelmedness.  I contemplate adding cherished holiday traditions to my already bulging to-do list and restless nights are sure to follow. But this year, heartened by Pastor David’s invitation to embrace and embody our identity in Christ, I hope to approach the season differently. Rather than letting my to-do list have the final say, I pray I’ll be overwhelmed instead by all the blessings that are ours because God chose to send us the best gift ever – His only begotten Son.

A Positive Practice

Several days after I submitted the newsletter article, my 90-year-old father had a stroke. I’d been preparing to do battle with my usual holiday stresses when a barrage of new responsibilities hit. In those early days of trying to ensure I procured the proper care for Dad and managing day-to-day logistics once he returned home, I was tempted to ignore the holidays altogether. Over and over again, I thought, “I feel so overwhelmed.” And each time I did, the words I’d written came back to me, and I reminded myself of all the blessings that are mine in Christ.

After several weeks of this practice, the sequence has become instinctive. I sense the stress starting to build, sometimes multiple times a day. “How will I ever handle this?” runs through my mind, quickly followed by, “I feel so overwhelmed!” The once-negative word triggers the new, positive response, shifting my focus to the realities greater than my circumstances. I have all I’ll ever need in Christ, plus the promise He’ll never leave or forsake me:

He has said, “I will never [under any circumstances] desert you [nor give you up nor leave you without support, nor will I in any degree leave you helpless], nor will I forsake or let you down or relax My hold on you [assuredly not]!” (Hebrews 13:5, Amplified)

An Invitation

Will you join me? Pick one or more of Paul’s affirmations to meditate on the next time you feel weighed down by cares or responsibilities: In Christ, we are blessed, chosen, blameless, adopted into God’s family, redeemed, forgiven, sealed with the Holy Spirit, destined to receive the inheritance held secure for us in heaven. Just reading this makes my heart sing!

Take another look at the last definition above, “to overpower in thought or feeling.” When the truth of Who God is and all He’s done for us in Christ overpowers our worries, fears, and anxieties, it is a most blessed conquest indeed.

Dear Lord, as we shift our gaze from the immediate to the eternal, I pray our thoughts and feelings will be overwhelmed in the most positive way by Your amazing grace and all You’ve blessed us with in Christ, to the praise of Your glory.

One Piece

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling. 
Psalm 46:1-3

A Song from the Past

Lyrics from the Wayne Watson song, “Hard Times,” have been replaying in my mind recently, not as an annoying melody that I can’t get out of my head, but as a gentle reminder of an eternal promise –  the Lord will never leave me or forsake me:

Hey, did I hear you say
You’ve fallen on some hard times?
That your dreams are crushed
And scattered to the wind
And if there’s a someday
When the pain will be forgotten
Right now, it’s too much
For your heart to comprehend

You say you wish that you
Could get back to the good times
Back when life and love
And plans fell into place
Before the floods came
Before the dam started breaking
Back when the waves kept their distance
From your faith

But in the hard times
When your world has gone to pieces
You pick up the one piece
That matters most
’Cause in hard times
You learn to hold on to Jesus
Oh, there’s no other place
To know the strength of your faith
But in the hard times[1]

When we moved to Georgia in 1992, it felt like the pieces of my life were scattered. My husband, two little girls, and I left our home, church, and friends, some of whom we’d known for years during our time in Delaware. But, by the time the song came out the following year, we were settling into our new community, church, school, and work routines. We chose a home close to church, the girls’ school, and Ray’s employer, which meant I had a 63-mile drive one-way to my job. Instead of a burden, though, my commute gave me some uninterrupted time with the Lord. I sometimes quipped, “The Lord took away the support system I had in Delaware, but He gave me Himself and an hourlong drive to Dalton.”

I spent the drive time praying and listening to contemporary Christian artists like Wayne Watson. The combination of music plus truth ensured the concepts they sang about were securely planted in my memory.

The One Piece hadn’t remained in Delaware. He was very much with me.

More Scattered Pieces

Little did I know that the upheaval caused by the move would pale compared to what was to come in April 1997. A few weeks after his 39th birthday, Ray went to work, had a fatal heart attack, and never returned home. My partner, the person I depended on most, was gone. Left to raise our two young daughters alone, I turned to the One who promised to be a Father to the fatherless and a Defender of widows. I found Him faithful.

In December 2010, as I stood by my mom’s hospital gurney, I received news that would rock my world yet again: her heart catheterization revealed three life-threatening blockages. The attendants began prepping Mom for surgery immediately so the surgeons could get to work as soon as an operating room became available. I stood there stunned, feeling so alone. But I wasn’t alone at all. God was with me.

Late January 2011 found me sitting in a windowless conference room across from my manager and her boss. Though I anticipated a life-changing message, hearing her words still caused me to go numb. “I know you’re expecting to have your annual review, but you won’t be having it because your job has been eliminated.” Just like that, my 30-year career ended. But God had other plans, new, incredible pieces to add to my life.

Late one night in April 2019, I left Mom in the emergency department, trudged to my car, and wondered if I’d see her alive again. The doctor’s diagnosis, aspiration pneumonia, didn’t bode well for someone so tiny and frail. I tossed and turned most of the night, countering fear with all I knew to be true about God’s character. Mom made it through 24 grueling days in the hospital and rehab, and we joyfully welcomed her home.

We were blessed to have her for two more years until she fell and broke her hip in mid-April 2021. The ten days between the fall and her Homegoing were some of the most difficult I’ve ever navigated. The excruciating physical pain she felt found its counterpart in my emotional distress. Even so, the Lord was near, directing and redirecting, until the moment He called her Home.

Another Storm

And now here I am, barely six months after losing my precious mother, dealing with the after-effects of my 90-year-old father’s stroke. There are moments when I’m tempted to despair, when the thought of burying my remaining parent is too much to bear.

But then the chorus from “Hard Times” starts playing in my head, and I pick up the One Piece that matters most and hold on as tightly as I can, knowing that even if my grasp starts to fail, He’ll never loosen His grip on me.

Strength Training

The lyrics, “There’s no better way to know the strength of your faith but in hard times,” remind me of the Apostle James’ statement, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” (James 1:2) The Apostle Paul affirms and expands upon the concept in his letter to the Romans: “We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us (Romans 5:3-5).

Rejoicing in suffering and finding joy in trials is counterintuitive until you realize experiencing difficult circumstances is the best way to grow our faith because we find God to be trustworthy to keep His promises, not sometimes, but every time. I don’t know what you’re going through, dear reader. Maybe life is smooth and hassle-free at the moment, but if you’re facing hardships and challenges, I pray you’ll do what I did above. Remind yourself of times in the past when God has been with you and know He will be with you to the end, no matter what He providentially allows into your life.

Dear Lord, how I praise and thank You that You are our Rock and our Refuge, an ever-present help in times of trouble. Even if other pieces of our lives are scattered, in disarray, or missing altogether, You will never leave or forsake us.  


[1] The first two verses and chorus of “Hard Times,” released on Wayne Watson’s 1993 album, “A Beautiful Place.” Words and music by Gary and Lisa Driskell.

One Piece

Heart Check

Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall.
1 Corinthians 10:12

Given the nature of my blog, I share personal stories in almost every post. At times I wonder if I share too much, but I’ve come to realize being real offers more hope and encouragement than if I sugar-coated my experiences. Occasionally though, the Lord nudges me further outside my comfort zone and impresses upon me to use a post to confess something. So, even though it makes me feel more vulnerable than usual, this is one of those posts.

The Big Dump

Over the past few months, I’ve been cleaning out my closet, gradually moving items I rarely wear to my daughter’s old room. The piles containing a mix of professional and casual apparel grew so large my grandchildren barely had space to play with the toys also located in their mom’s former room. Thus, I made a final pass through my closet one recent morning and then carefully folded and boxed everything up. I added some household items I  no longer use, loaded everything into my CR-V, and headed to a nearby donation center.

When I pulled up to the curb and told the attendant I had several boxes of items, he gestured toward a large bin and said, “You can put your stuff in there.” I set one of the larger boxes next to the container and was about to place one of the smaller ones in the bin when he said, “We don’t accept boxes.”

With that, he stepped forward, picked up the box, and dumped its contents into the receptacle. I could barely contain my horror as I watched all the neatly-folded items tumble out, followed by shoes and kitchen gadgets from the other box. The things I’d used, taken care of, and envisioned transferring in nearly-pristine condition to someone else who could use them were in a jumbled heap on top of the stuff dropped off by the person ahead of me. I almost closed the hatch of my car without unloading the rest of the boxes. And since this is a confession of sorts, I’ll admit there was a bag containing several items my dear mother gave me that I couldn’t bear to see added to the mix. When I got home, I returned them to my daughter’s old closet.

Standing Firm or Barely Standing?

Jesus’ discourse recorded in Matthew chapters 5-7 (often referred to as the Sermon on the Mount) contains some of my favorite verses in the whole Bible, including:

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal,  but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also (Matthew 6:19-21).

Though I haven’t settled on a life verse because I have so many favorites, “Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven” is in the running, so my response at the donation center surprised me. I thought about it for several days, pondering why the dumping of items I’d already decided I didn’t need anymore troubled me so. I think part of it was due to the fact Mom taught me from my earliest days to take care of my things, and seeing them treated so carelessly offended my sense of responsibility. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if my response indicated I was overly attached to my possessions and somehow saw them as an extension of myself. Did I equate mistreatment of my stuff with mistreating me or, worse, dishonoring the memory of the one who’d given it to me?

Faithful Wounds

The Lord used my reaction to enlighten the eyes of my heart. Regardless of the reason for the hurt, angry, incredulous feelings that sprang up as I stood by the curb, their intensity indicated I am more attached to material things than I realized or wanted to admit. After all, Scripture is clear we won’t take any of those things with us when we die (1Timothy 6:6-7).[1]

Though pained by recognizing the gap between reality and how I perceive myself, I’m thankful the Spirit is faithful to point out the discrepancies. Like a trusted friend who speaks the truth in love (Proverbs 27:6a), I can count on Him to reveal my shortcomings in this and other areas (John 14:26).  But unlike a human companion, He also empowers me to make the necessary changes as He continues to sanctify me (Ephesians 1:19-20).

Have you had a heart check lately, a moment when circumstances challenged you to reevaluate how firmly you’re standing in some spiritual discipline or another? If so, rejoice as I did, knowing your conscience is alert and attentive to the prompting of the Spirit, Who is unfailingly transforming us more and more into the image of Christ (2 Corinthians 3:18).   

Dear Lord, thank You for the Spirit’s work in our lives, instructing, reminding, and empowering us. Please help us to be ever-mindful of His promptings as we endeavor to work out our salvation and glorify You in all things (Philippians 2:12-13).


[1] Please see “The Ring” in Archives, August 2018 for more on this subject.