Gratitude

I give thanks to you, O Lord my God, with my whole heart, and I will glorify your name forever.
Psalm 86:12

It wasn’t a chirp or a tweet but an intermittent, melodious trill that caught my attention. The pattern – a snippet of song followed by a moment of silence – repeated several times, causing me to look out the window to see which feathered friend was singing so sweetly. There, perched on the suet, was a Carolina wren, one of the smaller birds that visit the buffet of treats I’ve placed on my deck. I watched him take a nibble (silence), then sing his little song. The endearing sight both charmed and convicted me. Charmed because I imagined the tiny creature thanking the Creator after each bite. Convicted since I know there are times when I fail to express my thankfulness to the Giver of all good gifts (James 1:17).

Longtime readers know I’m a ponderer. Thus, my thoughts turned to how I feel when someone doesn’t thank me for a gift or an act of kindness, which quickly led to me remembering the story of Jesus healing ten lepers (Luke 17:11-19). Only one, a Samaritan, came back to thank Jesus. Scripture doesn’t tell us why the other nine didn’t return, so we’re left to surmise their reasons. Maybe they were astonished at being healed, so overwhelmed with joy that they couldn’t wait to show their friends and relatives after they showed themselves to the priests. Who knows how long they’d been outcasts, separated by the uncleanness of the dread disease?

I doubt ingratitude for such a miraculous healing was the main reason they didn’t return, yet Jesus’ question, “Where are the nine?” conveys His disappointment in the behavior of those who went on their merry way. There are times when I’m thankful, but I don’t take the extra step to express that gratitude to God or to the person who’s blessed me. That robs God of the glory He deserves, the other person of the gladness of knowing they made a difference, and me from the delight of counting my blessings and realizing there’s so much more for me than against me!

Expressing gratitude is a joy-producing practice. As Christians, we can start by acknowledging that everything we have and are, from each breath we take to our salvation in Christ and every blessing in between, big or small, are gifts from our gracious heavenly Father (Ephesians 1:3). Then, we can be intentional about recognizing the good gifts others give us, both the material and relational, tangible and intangible.

God deserves all honor, praise, and glory, and we benefit by acknowledging and appreciating all He’s given us. Over the years, studies have shown a correlation between gratitude and emotional well-being, with thankful people being more positive and hopeful.

As we celebrate Valentine’s Day later this week, may we remember that God loved us so much He gave us the most precious gift He could give – His one and only Son (John 3:16). And let us never adopt a sense of entitlement, thinking we deserve the bountiful blessings He bestows upon us. Instead, let us endeavor to cultivate an attitude of gratitude, being thankful for every morsel and miracle He gives us until we find ourselves singing a happy song of thanksgiving like the little wren.

Sing praises to the Lord, O you his saints, and give thanks to his holy name.
Psalm 30:4

Buying and Selling Real Estate, a Tutorial on God’s Faithfulness

I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds. I will be glad and exult in you; I will sing praise to your name, O Most High.
Psalm 9:1-2

Note: The following post is based on one I wrote several years ago to encourage friends who were in various stages of buying and selling houses. Now I’m faced with getting the home Mom and Dad shared for 24 years ready to put on the market. Consequently, I need to revisit my words to remind me of God’s faithfulness and sovereignty, not only in matters involving real estate but also over every detail of my life. Though the post focuses on property transactions, I pray the over-arching message of God going before us will resonate with many of you.

Starter Home

As I open up my mental portfolio containing instances of God’s providence, the “Real Estate Transactions” file stands out because it encompasses events that still give me goosebumps of the most positive kind when I recall the specifics years later.

Several months after my late husband Ray and I got married, we began to contemplate the possibility of purchasing our first home. The image of him sitting at his drawing board, his silhouette illuminated by a clamp-on light as he calculated and re-calculated the numbers, is etched in my memory. After several such assessments, we decided to purchase a townhouse attached to one other unit. We had three bedrooms on the top floor, an open floor plan on the main level, and a full basement which we partially finished – plenty of room even after our daughter Mary was born two years later.

Expanding Family

But when I became pregnant with our daughter Jessie, Ray and I decided to start looking for a single-family home to accommodate our growing family. Unfortunately, the houses we could afford weren’t within our desired distance to work, and those in our preferred areas carried price tags well beyond our budget. We looked and looked, our hopes repeatedly dashed.

It was a hot, humid summer in Delaware, and I was eight months pregnant, with all the attendant hormonal upheaval. So, when Ray excitedly told me about an open house at an older home in the same neighborhood as our townhome, I suggested he check it out while I treated my hot, tired, grumpy self to a nap.

Ray returned from the open house, his spirits still high, and announced, “You need to see this one! It could be our house.” Several days later, I accompanied him on his return visit. I, too, liked what I saw. Coached by our realtor, we made an offer slightly under the asking price, only to be outbid. Once again deflated by dejection, we surmised it wasn’t the one after all.

Several weeks and more disappointing house-shopping jaunts later, the owners called to let us know the deal had fallen through and their house was back on the market. After thoroughly considering our options, Ray and I decided their house was indeed the one.

Having finally concluded the search phase of our mission, we asked fellow members of our Sunday school class to pray our townhouse would sell. A young couple came up to us after class and said they’d be interested in looking at it. They did so a few days after Jessie’s birth and made an offer. Thus we secured buyers without ever putting up a for-sale sign.

Another Move, Another Contract

The single-family house on Dewalt Road was to be our long-term, raise-the-kids residence. However, my employer decided to move my entire workgroup to Georgia so we could be closer to our customers in the carpet industry. Once again, we were faced with selling a house, this time one filled with toys and accessories parents of toddlers are used to stepping over and around. I dreaded the process of keeping the house picked up and ready to show at any moment.

After Ray and I signed a contract with our realtor the day before I left for a weeklong business trip to California, I told them, “Ok, you two. I want you to find a buyer before I get back.” (Cue laughter.) God graciously provided a young family, much like our own, who could no doubt imagine their children’s toys strewn across the playroom and parked in the yard. They were ready to make an offer by the time I returned home.

God Goes Before Us

Fast forward five years to when the unthinkable happened. My beloved 39-year-old husband went to work one beautiful spring day, suffered a fatal heart attack, and didn’t make it back to what has indeed been my long-term, raise-the-kids residence. My parents were living in Charlotte and had been considering several location options for their retirement years. What a blessing when they chose to move to Georgia to help me with the logistics and challenges associated with being a single mother.

Mom and Dad had an offer on their house within a few days of putting it on the market. Then, when Mom told the owners of the house they bought in Georgia the reason for their move, the woman replied, “Our house was under contract several months ago, but the deal fell through. Now I know why. God was saving it for you.”

Recounting God’s Goodness

I realize your real estate history may differ from mine. Maybe you’ve endured weeks without showings and multiple price cuts during stagnant markets. But, as I hope you can see, this recounting isn’t about houses at all. It’s about remembering God’s faithfulness, recording instances of His provision, and sharing them to encourage yourself and fellow believers when times get tough (Psalm 63:1-8).

Recording and remembering will give us ammunition to combat the lies Satan whispers to our anxious hearts in the wee hours: “Just look what God has done! He’s never forsaken me, and I know He never will.” (Deuteronomy 31:8; Psalm 9:10; Psalm 37:25)

Your list of examples will be as unique as you are. But, even if you’re a brand new believer, you have instances to look back on, including the fact He called you out of darkness and welcomed you into His family (Matthew 4:16; John 8:12; Ephesians 1:3-14). And the longer we walk with Him, the more extensive and varied our personal inventories become, as He does exceedingly more than all we can ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20).

O Lord, please help us to be ever-faithful to recall and recount Your goodness and faithfulness in all circumstances. When our hearts are troubled, they will find rest in remembering all You’ve done and all You’ve promised to do.

A Book Is Born

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Dear Readers,

It is with great joy that I announce my first book, Be Still, Quiet Moments With God in My Garden, went live on Amazon this morning. I want to write something profound about the process and journey of getting to this point, but I’m feeling so overwhelmed with wonder and gratitude that God has allowed me to fulfill this dream that I can’t get the words to line up in my mind or on the page. There’s just a happy jumble of thoughts and emotions tumbling around in my heart as tears of amazement well up repeatedly and blur my vision.

So, for now, I’ll share the author’s note from the book and say a sincere, “Thank you!” to all of you who’ve read my blog posts, encouraged me to keep writing, and prayed for me as I labored over Be Still. I pray the Lord will use my stories and my efforts for His glory.

Blessings to you and yours as we enter into this Advent season.

Author’s Note

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.
Matthew 11:28-29

Scattered. A word I often use to describe my thoughts, my activities, and my days. Numerous distractions and responsibilities vie for attention. They scramble my mind and weary my soul. But there’s a place I can turn to for solace, a place where I spend some of my sweetest times with the Lord – my garden. There I’m reminded of the first garden and the promise of a new, redeemed garden. I see Jesus’ parables come to life as I observe the flowers and birds, the seasons and soils. My spirit soars as I behold God’s tremendous power, yet is quieted by the assurance that the One who cares for all creation also cares for me.

Several years ago, the lessons I’ve learned in my garden met up with my love of writing, and I began a blog, Back 2 the Garden (patsykuipers.com). I longed to share what God had been teaching me and to tell others of His great love and faithfulness.

As my portfolio of stories grew, so did the dream to compile them into a book, something that will be around for my children and grandchildren even after my blog and I are not.  Five years in the making, Be Still is the fulfillment of that dream.

I’ve arranged the 35 devotional readings in Be Still in five categories, with distinct yet intertwined themes:

  • Glimpses of Glory – evidence of God’s love all around us
  • The Benevolent Gardener – God’s protection and provision
  • Planted Together – principles for life-giving relationships
  • Cultivating Holiness – disciplines of spiritual growth
  • Transformation – God’s work of sanctification

Each entry begins with a passage from the Bible and ends with a brief prayer. In between, you’ll find the timeless truths of Scripture wrapped in simple stories. I pray they will encourage you to slow down and open your eyes to the wonders all around us, to be still and draw near to God.

Don’t Cry!

12-20-2013, Hi, Grammie 1I suppose I should begin with a confession: I’m an equal-opportunity crier. My eyes are just as likely to well up in moments of joy as in sorrow – while reading sweet sentiments in Hallmark cards, watching heartbreaking news stories, attending weddings or funerals, even when leading Bible study as the magnitude of God’s grace and mercy floods over me. Yes, from a barely-there trickle to gut-wrenching sobs, I’ve shed my share of tears and expect to shed plenty more.

A quick search on Google reveals three different types of tears. Basal tears keep our eyes lubricated, while reflex tears pop up in response to irritants like slicing onions or having a pesky gnat flit into your eye. And then there are psychic tears, those associated with our emotions, distinct from the other two in that they contain stress hormones.[1] No wonder we often feel better after shedding them. They’re like an overflow valve for the soul.

Even so, our attempts to comfort others are often accompanied by, “Don’t cry!”

The Bible has much to say about tears and the circumstances surrounding them. Consider for example:

  • Loss of a loved one by separation or death
    • David grieved the loss of his closer-than-a-brother friend, Jonathan, first from necessary distancing and then by death (1 Samuel 20:41; 2 Samuel 1:12).
    • Mary and Martha bemoaned Lazarus’ death. Seeing their bereavement, Jesus wept too, even though He knew his Father would hear his prayer to raise him. Jesus had compassion on the sisters in their time of loss and He has compassion on us as well (John 11:31-35).
    • Jesus’ followers were bereft and befuddled after His death in spite of the many times He’d told them what was to come (Luke 18:31-34; 36:13-49).
  • Disappointments of various sorts
    • Esau wept over the loss of his birthright, when he realized how his brother had tricked their father (Genesis 27:30-38).
    • Hannah’s unfulfilled desire for a child, exacerbated by her rival’s provocation and her husband’s lack of understanding, led to her fervent, tear-stained prayer for relief (1 Samuel 1:1-10)
  • Sorrow for sin
    • Three of the four Gospels recount Peter’s tear-punctuated dismay when Jesus’ statement that he’d betray Him came to pass (Matthew 26:75; Mark 14:72; Luke 22:62).
    • James says we should be wretched and mourn and weep over our transgressions, humbly drawing near to God for forgiveness and restoration (James 4:8-10).
  • Worship and Gratitude
    • The penitent woman who wet Jesus’ feet with her tears, wiped them with her hair, and anointed them with ointment was motivated by her love for her Savior.
  • Joyous reunion
    • Though bitterness marked their estrangement and Jacob feared the worst from Esau, the brothers’ reunion was accompanied by joyful tears (Genesis 33:4).
    • I’m taking some liberty here because none of the translations I consulted mention crying, but I’ve got to believe the prodigal son’s compassionate father had tears of elation streaming down his face as he ran to greet his returning son (Luke 15:20).

Even though these passages and others make it clear psychic tears are part of our God-given emotions, we’re quick to admonish, “Don’t cry!” Could it be others’ tears make us uncomfortable or tearful ourselves? Or worse, might we believe God’s children aren’t supposed to cry because we know the end of the story?

Mournful tears have dotted my days this past month. They sneak up on me as the reality of the COVID-19 pandemic breaks through my carefully-constructed mantle of Truth. Woven together from precious promises and reliable assurances found in Scripture it protects me from despair and hopelessness.[2] Nonetheless, people are hurting on a worldwide scale for myriad reasons. Closer to home, I miss seeing my children and grandchildren, worshiping in person with my covenant family. And so tears flow as I grieve the loss and brokenness.

The women who witnessed Jesus’ crucifixion no doubt wailed at the sight of their beloved son, teacher, friend, bloodied and beaten, being nailed to a Roman cross. The innocent One, put to death for the sins of others. Isaiah 53 is one of my most cherished passages, but also one which I can rarely get through without tears. Man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. Despised. Rejected. Wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities. My transgressions. My iniquities.

We are so blessed to live on this side of the Resurrection. No matter how dark the days or how great the losses, we know Jesus’ atoning sacrifice ensures our own resurrection and eternal security. Furthermore, as we go through difficulties in this life, we know He is seated at the right hand of God, interceding for us. Nothing can separate us from His love (Romans 8:31-39).

The One who keeps track of every tear (Psalm 56:8) has promised to return, to usher in a new heaven and a new earth, to wipe every tear from our eyes (Revelation 21:1-4). Until then, may we rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep, unafraid of our tears.

O Lord, how I thank You that You hear our cries for help. Though weeping may last through the night, joy comes with the morning (Psalm 30). You have shown your great mercy in sending Jesus to die for our sins and will turn our mourning into gladness. For we know this momentary affliction is preparing an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison (2 Corinthians 4:17). May we sing your praise forever!

 

[1] “What are the three different types of tears found in our eyes?”, http://www.sharecare.com

[2] Please see previous posts, “It is Well” and “Pollen Season”.

A nestful of hope

(This is the third in a series of posts inspired by events surrounding my mom’s recent hospitalization.)

As if having a seriously-ill wife wasn’t enough stress for my dad, the painting company scheduled my parents’ house for the week I transferred Mom from the hospital to a rehab facility. Any kind of home improvement project comes with its attendant potential for tension and this job was no different. The workmen arrived early and stayed late, accompanied by the sounds of clanging ladders, humming pressure washers and pounding hammers.

IMG_1082Uh oh! As they prepared to clean the deck, they found a lovingly-crafted nest containing four tiny blue eggs. Under normal circumstances, the location selected by the mama bird – perched on a ladder stored horizontally under the deck – would have been ideal – out of sight of predators and protected from the elements. But these were not normal circumstances. Knowing the commotion of scouring and staining the deck would most likely scare the mother away and that the high-powered stream of water might damage the tiny home, the painters carefully moved the ladder out of their work zone.

However, as the ladder and its not-yet-hatched tenants rested on the ground at the edge of the woods, the nest was fully exposed. Would the mother abandon her little brood? Would an enemy eat the eggs as they lay within easy reach? Oh the anxiety! My dad became a second mother to the little ones and each evening he gave me a report.

Once the ladder was returned to its normal spot, with the nest still positioned on its metal perch, Dad checked on its occupants. Not only were all four eggs present, they were hatching! The next day, Dad resumed his vigil from inside and, after seeing no sign of the mother bird, he trekked around the house to the little ones, cup of water and eye dropper in hand. Hydration duty complete, he debated what to feed them. Fortunately for him and the hatchlings, mama bird returned and faithfully cared for her babies in the ensuing days as they grew and eventually left the nest.

God was so good to give my dad something to take his mind off Mom’s very serious condition, at least for brief respites during her time away from home. The week the baby bird saga was unfolding coincided with my annual observation of my husband’s death. As I read through journal entries I made 22 years ago, I came across these words, penned the day after his burial: “Picked out a grass marker for Ray’s grave then went to (my aunt’s) for lunch and to see the baby bunnies again. They’re adorable as are the baby chickadees she showed us. Lord, thank You for the reminder, amidst our sadness, that life goes on and that there are still blessings and beauty to be enjoyed.”

Life can be so hard. This world is full of brokenness. (John 16:33a) From minor disappointments and promises-not-kept to aging bodies, terminal illness and death, proof abounds that things aren’t the way they were in the beginning (Genesis 1:31) or the way they were meant to be. But evidence of God’s love and His sustaining power is all around us – reminders that He hasn’t left us and never will. (Deuteronomy 31:8; John 16:33b)

IMG_1539Fluffy white masses towering in a blue summer sky. Busy bees with full pollen baskets. Birds singing their praises to the One who assures us if He cares for the lilies and sparrows, He’ll certainly care for His children. IMG_1115(Matthew 6:25-34) Your list will look different, my friend, but make that list. Look. For glimpses of what the new earth will be like. Listen. For whispers of love from our Father who attends to every detail of our lives. Taste and see that the Lord is good, His love endures forever! (Psalm 34; 1 Chronicles 16:34; Psalm 106:1)[1]

 

[1] These are just a few of the many, many verses that speak of the Lord’s steadfast, enduring love. Use a concordance or Bible app and search for “steadfast love endures” sometime!

Even the rocks

Extra responsibilities, mostly of the family variety, have kept me from writing for a while. But they haven’t prevented me from enjoying the beauty of springtime. Indeed every walk I’ve taken, each glance out a window, all the driving back and forth have given me the opportunity to revel in the splendor of the season. Wave after wave of reawakening – cheerful yellow daffodils and forsythia followed by cherry blossoms and early-blooming magnolias, now giving way to azaleas and dogwoods. From the tiniest woodland specimens to the showiest ornamentals, all are praising their Creator and reflecting His glory.

When the Pharisees, jealous of Jesus’ popularity, told him to rebuke his disciples because of their exuberant welcome on what we now celebrate as Palm Sunday, He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.” Let us not be silent. Let us join the happy chorus ringing out around us, as we add our own verses of joyful thanksgiving to our Savior, Lord and King . . . not only on Resurrection Sunday but every day.

May the following photos underscore my hymn of praise this glorious Easter day.