Ice, Ice Baby

I apologize for my silence this week. You can
blame it on the recent ice storm that swept
through the South. I've been without power for
several days and Mark is out of town.

At first, it was a bit of an adventure. We briefly lived in Colorado so our closet is stocked with unused ski gear. I layered up in three pairs of pants, three shirts, a coat, hat, scarf, and three pairs of socks (apparently I think three of anything is good). I read by a book by flashlight and slept in my sub-zero sleeping bag on the couch. Ice-covered limbs crashing into the yard woke me up several times. The next morning my cell phone died. That's when I began to panic just a bit. I sat down on the bed and prayed, "God, what do I do now?"

Just then I heard a knock on the door. It was my friend Brian and he had come to rescue me. So now I'm hanging out with his wife Cynthia, who is also my dear friend, and their little boy Austin. We just finished "cooking" a pie, cake, brownies, spaghetti, pizza, casserole, and eggs on Austin's toy stove. A moment ago He announced from the kitchen that I'm his girlfriend. Even as a toddler, it appears the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

The power just flickered so I'm going to post this while I still can. I hope all of you are warm and safe!

More Beautiful Anomalies (Fancy Name for Weird Stuff I Do)

In my first post on this blog I wrote about beautiful anomalies. They're the things about ourselves that we're perhaps a bit embarrassed of but can also (hopefully) be a bit endearing--at least to God. For example, the way your friend snorts when she laughs is a beautiful anomaly.

My beautiful anomalies tend to get worse when I'm busy. This week they have been in full force. I thought about hiding in the closet but decided to share them with you instead...

1) Burn, Baby, Burn - Although I'm not a chef by any means, cooking does relax me when I'm a bit stressed. The drawback to that is that I start thinking while I'm cooking, zone out, and the next thing you know I'm smelling smoke. Last night I made Red Beans and Rice. One side of the little sausage pieces stayed perfectly pink. The other side was beyond "blackened."

2) Did I Just Run Into a Door? - When my brain is preoccupied, my body goes on autopilot. When my husband does this, he's like a 747 with a super computer system. All is well. When I do that, I'm like the little 4-seater plane that really shouldn't be getting off the ground. I run into door frames, get paper cuts, and bruise myself on tables I've had for years. Nothing serious but a tad humiliating, I must say.

3) Giggles - Fortunately, all this busyness is good stuff and I'm happy. When I'm happy I sometimes giggle in my sleep. Yes, it's true. I've woken myself up at times. The weird thing is, I'm not really a giggler during my waking hours. Sure, I laugh. But it's not the bizarre sound that emerges in the middle of the night.

So there you have it, my friends. The latest chapter in my beautiful anomalies. As always, I love hearing yours too. Otherwise I feel even weirder than I already am. And believe me, that's awfully weird at times (just ask my husband and the dog).

True Hope for Our Hearts

I recently wrote this devotional and wanted to share it with you...

The eyes of the LORD are on those who fear Him, on those whose hope is in His unfailing love. PSALM 33:18

Turn on your television and you’ll see a kaleidoscope of hope. The housing industry hopes for an economic recovery. Little boys and girls hope for the latest toy to be under the tree on Christmas morning. The incoming administration hopes to change our country. People hope their New Year’s resolutions will improve their lives.

We could each add a hope of our own to the list. Perhaps yours is a hope for a loved one to return safely from deployment. Maybe you hope this year you’ll beat the diagnosis. You might hope for your marriage to be reconciled. Or you may be hoping today for a job to replace the one recently lost.

Hope is a gift from God. It helps us look to the future and face another day. Yet there is a far deeper hope for us than any of those listed above. In the book of Psalms, King David uses the phrase “hope for” one time. But he uses the phrase “hope is in” six times. Over and over he essentially says to God, “My hope is in you.” That kind of hope is much deeper and wilder. It’s based on an unshakeable trust in God and a belief that only He can truly save us and fulfill the desires of our hearts.

I’ve had a taste of that kind of hope. For more than four years, my husband and I have struggled with infertility. When we began that journey, our hope was for a baby. While that hope is still there, we’ve also discovered hoping in God is where our hearts truly find rest. During baby dedication in church recently I felt the ache return. Silently I began to repeat, “Lord, I know you. I trust you no matter what happens. You have blessed us so much—if you are withholding this from us then it is for a good and loving reason.” As we began to worship, the hurt in my heart slowly was replaced once again by an inexplicable hope.

There’s something about shifting our focus from what we hope for to who we hope in that soothes our souls and brings healing to our hearts. None of us know what the future will hold but we do know the One who holds every moment of our lives in His hands. As we celebrate and begin a new year, may we firmly place our hope in the God who came for us and promises to be with us always. In the unending kaleidoscope of hope around us and within us, He is the One who never changes.