A Review of the Basics

This week, I went back to school.

Well, for a few hours anyway. I joined a classroom of seniors at AAA in Dickson City for a Mature Driving Class for those 55 and over. Not only does taking this class reduce my car insurance premium by 5% but is tailored to meet the needs of those of us who are aging. I found it very helpful.

Here are a few things I learned:

• Drive with your headlights on at all times, regardless of the time of day.
• A driver's hands should be positioned at or between the 9 & 3 and 8 & 4 positions on the steering wheel.
• By age 60, drivers need three times as much light to see as they did at age 20.
• Incidents of road rage increased 66% from 2017 to 2018.
• If you take your eyes off the road for just four seconds while traveling 60-65 mph, you travel 100 yards during that time (the length of a football field). Taking your eyes off the road is virtually the same as driving blindfolded!

As one of the youngest in the class, the thing that impressed me was the teachable-ness of the class members.

We never know it all. Guidelines change. Cars change. We change. This rings true in other areas besides driving. We require a review of the basics and would benefit from a refresher course. We need a few reminders.

In his second letter, the apostle Peter wrote, "Therefore I intend always to remind you of these qualities (from verses 5-7), though you know them and are established in the truth that you have" (2 Peter 1:12). And what were these qualities? Faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, steadfastness, godliness, brotherly affection, and love. And they come with a promise: "If you practice these qualities you will never fall" (verse10). 

If we're not intentional in our focus, how easy to find ourselves absorbed in our own interests, in our disappointments, and in our shortcomings instead of "[making] every effort" to incorporate the characteristics listed in Peter's letter. Maybe this is a good time for all of us to go back to school for a refresher course - with a teachable spirit, knowing God gives us His grace in all things. 

*Photos from bing.com/images/free to use

An Old Bulletin Board with a New Purpose

I knew we still had it somewhere . . . a chalk board on one side and a flannel/bulletin board on the other, surrounded by a wooden frame. My husband made it as a college student, a project for a class called "Audio-Visual Aids" sometime during the years of overhead projectors, cassette recorders, and record players. Sure enough. I found it behind the attic door, along with a pocket chart, a flip chart, and some letter patterns of various styles and sizes.

Back in the day, Barry and I used it to teach flannel graph lessons to Sunday school children. Later, when our daughters were home sick on a Sunday, I'd pull it out. We'd have our own flannel graph story of David and his sheep or Queen Esther or Jesus blessing the children. First, I would tell the story and move the figures, and then it would be their turn. They loved it.

Every Wenesday evening, I host a ladies' Bible study. This past summer, when our leader and I met to brainstorm some new ideas for the fall, she wondered aloud about using a bulletin board to display our prayer requests. Bingo! I had just what we needed! Once more, I dragged it down from the attic and dusted it off. On the left side, I pinned up the title: ASKING GOD FOR . . . On the right side, THANKING GOD FOR . . .

When the ladies arrive, the first thing we do is post our prayer requests and praises. Often, we move a request over to the right. We've seen answers like God supplying a wonderful housing option for a daughter in another state. The safe delivery of twins - a neice and a nephew. Grace to manage relationships and time and unexpected trials. Already we have seen God working in our circumstances and, more importantly, in our hearts. One evening, we gathered around in a "huddle," arm in arm, (Our leader is a coach!) and thanked God for His blessings. A simple exercise, but it touched me deeply. 

This week, we lifted our hands as we prayed. I'm not usually so demonstrative publically, but again, tears wet my cheeks. Coupled with our study of 1 Peter ("Real Grace for Real Life"), our times of prayer have been meaningful. The community we share offers encouragement and just the right amount of accountability. 

So, if you have an old bulletin board in your attic, consider dusting it off and re-purposing it. God graciously hears our voices and our hearts. He's always working!

Reading Between the Lines

For months now, I've eyed that quiet shelf in my office closet, the third one down, with a lifetime of journals and prayer notebooks arranged in order by date. Over the years I've moved them from place to place as we've repurposed and rearranged, but not once did I crack one open to read the chronicles within.  

If you've followed my journey, you're familiar with my occasional yet repeated references to simplifying and downsizing. I've spent the last four years wading through a lifetime of accumulated "stuff," highly motivated by my desire to spare my children the weight of it all.

It's one thing to toss 1984 homeschool catalogs, donate dozens of VHS documentaries, and find teachers and students who gladly receive Latin and Spanish curriculum. It's quite another to decide what to do with decades of handwritten stories. Stories about family, events, celebrations, school days, worries, fears, regrets, life lessons, and well . . . whatever else happened to come to mind on any given day. Memories recorded in black and white . . . someday to be remembered in living color.

On my birthday last September, I decided it was my job to take care of these volumes in one way or another. In March, I finally mustered up the courage to begin. Page after written page, I read. Sometimes I found myself smiling . . . like the time one of the girls danced around the living room singing, "I can read! I can read!" Or when said daughter couldn't decide on which socks to wear to make her "shoes feel good." Or the day she got her head stuck in a chair at school. Another of them dressed up like Polly Pepper, and at Thanksgiving, a native American, complete with fringe and papoose.

I found the record of when we paid off our house and the season we harvested 49 quarts of strawberries and canned umpteen quarts of tomatoes and pickles. I noted the day when Patches the Guinea pig died and how Daddy helped bury him in the garden under a stone painted yellow. I leafed through the celebratory stories of birthdays and end-of-the-school-year-parties, prayers and baptisms, swimming lessons and family outings.

But lest you think our lives were mostly idyllic, my eyes also traveled over pages of weary fatigue, frustration, busyness, uncertainty, and desperate prayers for wisdom and guidance. I scribbled, "God, where are you? I'm trying so hard. Why does it seem I will never be enough? Please take care of my girls." Tears sprang to my eyes as I laid the book down. 

Can you relate?

I happened to mention my bittersweet experience to a friend who parroted back to me what she and I had talked about in times past. "What is true?" she reminded me. "Read your journals as an act of worship as you recall God's work in your life. Let go of the pages that are no longer beneficial." 

An act of worship. Letting go of the If Onlys leaves room for us to read the grace of God between the lines. His unfailing presence. His steadfast love. His promise of redemption. He brought us through those days . . . the learning days . . . the growing days . . . all for His glory. 

It's been good for me to review my life through my own pen. Humbling, really. Words have a way of representing a more accurate picture than memory. All these years later, I find myself worshipping God with a sweeter appreciation for His faithfulness . . . and for His readiness to listen to the broken, hopeful prayers of a mother's heart. 

Behold, I am doing a new thing . . . 

I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.

Isaiah 43:19

Feeling the Let-Down

The back door swung open as I slid the key back out of the lock. I breathed in the familiar, almost  comforting, scent of the house as I crossed the threshold and took a look around. 

Home again. 

Not the home of days gone by, filled with children's jostling laughter, school project deadlines, and piano practice. Instead, in moments like these, the walls seem to speak the memories in quiet whispers, mere echoes of those busy days . . . all the more dear to me now. 

Part of me is grateful for the silence after a somewhat hectic week of playing with small grand-boys, cuddling a new-born, cooking for a crowd, savoring laughter and conversation with my daughters, son-in-law, and even some new friends, trying to sleep in a strange bed, and driving miles to and fro. Good times. Yet, a part of me grieves. As I put things away, the stillness serves as an ever-present reminder of how life has changed. Time has slipped through my fingers, as time is prone to do . . . 

And yet, I come home to more than silence, for I somehow bring my children's concerns with me. I carry their uncertainties, their fears, their everyday challenges. With intention, I recall our late-night conversations and their whispered what-ifs . . . our acknowledgment that control is an illusion and there are few guarantees and that our only hope is trust in a great big God who lovingly writes our life stories with purpose, even when it makes little sense to us now. I treasure these conversations. Both their concerns and victories matter to me.

I am their mother, after all.

Can you relate?

I've grown to appreciate the practice of Job, who brought each of his ten children before the Lord in prayer on a regular basis (Job 1:4-5). Although not a parent in the physical sense, Paul wrote about the deep concern he felt for all the churches, i.e. his spiritual children (2 Corinthians 11:28). Another first century Christ-follower, Epaphras, wrestled on behalf of the early believers in his prayers, that they would "stand mature and fully assured in all the will of God" (Colossians 4:12). 

We're not alone in our care for the circle God has entrusted to us. Yet, I find a bit of tension between concern for others and focusing on what God has given me to do. These three questions help me better sort it out: 

• What is my role? 
• What role do others play? 
• What is God's role?

So, what is my role? To daily (and often) bring each one to the throne of grace (Hebrews 4:16), to cheer them on, to initiate as appropriate, to be available . . . to love them as only a parent can . . . and to believe in them.

As I stow my suitcase in its usual place in the attic, I find myself turning a proverbial corner, focusing on getting back to normal . . . at least for the few days before the calendar beckons me to deck the halls and my Christmas gift list pushes me out the door. I am grateful for the gift of family, of community, and of a faithful God who always plays His role perfectly - both when I'm away and when the stillness welcomes me home. 

When Challenges Make Us Stronger

I woke up with a start. 

What was that noise? I couldn't place it, but it sounded like it was coming from the other side of my bedroom wall. With heart pounding, I glanced at the clock. Just after 1:00 a.m. The strange movement seemed loud in the dark of the night. A mouse? A rat? Or . . . I shuddered, willing logic to rein in my imagination. 

Turns out a couple of mice had been chewing on the air conditioner I have stored in the attic. Armed with traps from ACE Hardware, I was rewarded with two gray mice with long tails . . . just like the pictures. How could rodents so small make so much racket? One more chore I can add to my ever-lengthening list of "things-I've-learned-to-do-since-Barry-passed-away." He always took care of the mice.

What have you learned to do because you had to?

I've had to educate myself on home and appliance repairs, insurance, car maintenance, gardening, college matters, finances, simplifying, etc. How often have I prayed, begging God to help me figure out one more thing. I don't always get it right, but God has been faithful, often bringing helpers across my path to give me a hand. I am blessed.

Thanksgiving has a way of turning our focus to the past year to reflect on our blessings. We remember how God has seen us through the losses we never anticipated and the victories we never dreamed possible. He walks with us in the darkness and the light . . . in the dailyness of our lives.

This Thanksgiving, I want to thank God for . . .

• A year of learning and growing. I've read through Proverbs and the New Testament, which have been enlightening and comforting. I've also read: 
• A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows Through Loss by Gary Sittser 
• Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less by Greg McKoewn 
• Better Than Before, a book about habits by Gretchen Rubin
• The Girl With Seven Names: Escape from North Korea by Hyeonseo Lee. 
• My children and grandchildren who bless me with their intentional connections and love. And a new grandson, Victor, born October 12th.
• My community of friends and extended family who lend support and make me laugh. 
• My network of helpers whose counsel and hands-on assistance are invaluable to me.
• Opportunities to share our story with various groups in PA and NY.
• Wisdom and patience to finish the Leader's Guide to Penned Without Ink: Trusting God to Write Your Story.
• The many, many answers to prayer, a testimony of God's abundant faithfulness.
• The ability to do my daily work.
• The challenges that make me stronger . . . from hard-to-make-decisions to the menial task of mouse-catching!

So, what are you grateful for this Thanksgiving?

"Giving thanks always and for everything . . ." Ephesians 5:20

Remembering Grace

Fifteen years. One hundred eighty months. Seven hundred eighty weeks. A long time, and yet in some ways, it seems like our family's car crash on the Pennsylvania Turnpike happened yesterday.

Today, fifteen years from April 5, 2003, I want to take time to remember.

Our Toyota Camry

"Remembering the crash site reminds me of an old Sunday school lesson. An angry king sent a great army by night to surround a prophet's residence. At dawn's light, overwhelming panic seized the prophet's servant when he saw the innumerable number of enemy troops, horses, and chariots surrounding them. But the prophet stayed calm and unafraid. When God opened the servant's eyes, he saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around--the army of the Lord. They had been surrounded by God's protection the whole time [2 Kings 6].

"Words cannot fully describe the frenzied scene of the pile-up on the turnpike. Like Elisha's servant, we found ourselves surrounded. Surrounded by an army of charred and twisted vehicles, shattered glass, and broken bodies. Overwhelming distress and fear seized both victims and responders alike. 

"Looking back, I have to believe we were also surrounded by God's army--an army of grace.* The fading fog. A young woman named Bethan who called us back to the scene. The lady who sat with us. The offer of a cell phone. The rugby team. The medical personnel. Grace-givers every step of the way. And the promise of God's presence in the midst of it all" (Penned Without Ink,** pages 10-11).

Sarah and Elisabeth, age 5

God's grace continued with us . . . through uncertain hospital stays, through months of grueling recovery and rehab, through the uncomfortable adjustments once we again lived under the same roof, through the job and financial challenges, and through the lingering limitations that followed us. God's ever-present guidance, even when we couldn't see Him, has brought us to a wider place, a place where we can look back with gratefulness to Him for taking care of us every step of the way.

Today is also a day to express our thanks to all who stood by with loving hearts and helping hands. Thank you for praying, for supplying meals, for giving us rides to therapy, for offering the proceeds of your garage sales, for helping with yard work and minor repairs, for sending cards and notes, and for your smiles and hugs of support. 

Through all these years, our family has been blessed beyond measure. Every day is a gift. Every challenge, still an opportunity to trust in a God who will never leave or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5). Life isn't perfect for any of us. But today, we can choose to remember grace. God's grace.

It's always enough (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).

*Grace: the divine influence upon the heart and its reflection in the life; benefit, favor, gift (from Strong's Concordance)

**Read our story HERE.

Barry and Sarah, finally home

Savoring our Blessings Just a Little Bit More . . .

I wonder how many times we don’t fully appreciate something until it’s gone. Said another way, we often realize how much we value people, abilities, and even things after we lose them. And sometimes the seeming littlest losses bring a grief that surprises us.

So, how can we be more intentional about gratefulness. . . ahead of time? 

As a child, I could run—fast. I loved to hike in the woods, climb up and down ravines, and hop from stone to stone in the creek. In my forties, I took brisk early morning walks with my husband and jogged with our daughter, Sharon. I enjoyed those times, but now my hips complain. I never thought about the blessing of being able to climb and run until I couldn’t do it anymore. Yet, every time I put on my sneakers and head to the park or even around the block, I find myself thanking God. I can walk! (If you've read my book, you know that after a car accident, I had to learn to walk again. I don't take it for granted.)

After that same crash, our family no longer enjoyed the security of health, routine, and predictability. We lost the normality of traditional roles, family suppers, and even the ability to ambulate unaided, drive, and independently care for ourselves. When some of these things returned, I felt blessed beyond measure—and still do.

Several years ago, watching my sweet mom go through chemo treatments helped me appreciate the blessings of an appetite, a bad-hair day, feeling half-way decent, and the ability to do my work. 

The quiet of my home echoes with memories of the man I loved for nearly 36 years. I miss his sacrificial love, his advice, his strong arms around me. When I'm not sure what to do about a matter, I often think, "Now, what would Barry say?" Sometimes I ask God to whisper my thanks to him for all he did for our family, what he taught us, and for his faithfulness. That's a lot to give thanks for. 

  

Perhaps we don’t fully appreciate what we have until something happens. We take running water and electricity for granted until a pipe leaks or the lights go out. We underestimate the efficiency of working with two hands until one is injured. We may not fully realize the comfort of a friend or family member until circumstances take him or her away from us. When we find our lives altered, in big matters and small, we see things from a different perspective.

Today, I want to be intentional about savoring the blessings in my story just a little bit more.

How about you?

It's Good to Go and Good to Come Home

Three college girls, Elisabeth among them, drove all night to spend a few days with their families back east. Since the driver lived near my two older daughters, Dad and I drove down to spend Thanksgiving there. I couldn't wait to see them all. When Elisabeth arrived I ran down the front steps to give her a big hug, tears in my eyes. I hadn't seen her since August 23rd when I left her standing by her dorm eleven hours away.

We all had a wonderful few days . . . catching up, laughing, sharing ideas and recipes, eating, and playing with two little grandboys, ages five and thirteen months. I savored the days. Yet I knew our stay would be temporary. And as our time drew to a close, I found my mind wandering back to the place I've called home for nearly thirty years. 

What is it that draws us back? We can almost feel the pull of home after an all-day shopping trip, a white-knuckle drive on slippery roads, or even a much-needed week at the beach. Perhaps it's the familiar, the predictable routines, and the memories that nurture our souls. Or maybe it's the sigh of relief that comes when we climb our own creaky stairs, snuggle into our own bed, and listen for the chime of the old clock on the mantel, the click of the furnace, the hum of the refrigerator.
 

My mother used to say, "It's good to go. And it's good to come home." 

Would you agree?

On our way back, as rolling hills gradually rose into rugged terrain, I began to reflect. In this life, we savor the days. Each one is a precious gift. We spend time together, exchange ideas, serve, and pray. We play and work, eat and sleep. Yet we're "strangers and pilgrims" in this world. Here for a little while. And "any day now," as the old song goes, "we"ll be going home."

Can you almost feel the pull? Jesus said, "I go to prepare a place for you . . . that where I am, there you may be also." 

In Barry's words, "That's home" (Penned, page 41).


Photos by Julie Manwarren

It Takes a Team . . . (Behind the Scenes # 4)

Do you ever scan through the Acknowledgments of a book? I do. Maybe because it tells a little bit more about the story. 

Today, I want to give you a glimpse of the team behind Penned Without Ink. This book would never have been born without my writing critique group. I'm indebted to these writers who sit at my dining room table every other Monday. This is how it works. We each bring copies of a piece/chapter we've written and read our work aloud. The others, pen in hand, give input and offer suggestions. What works? What's unclear? What would make it better? It didn't take long for me to realize that accepting criticism with a teachable spirit is part of the writing process.

With time, our group has grown closer. We laugh together, cry together, brainstorm together, pray together, cheer each other on, and shoot emails back and forth for feedback on our latest projects. What a gift these dear writer friends are. May I introduce you to them?

Barbara writes wonderful stories for children. Cindy gives history a heartbeat with her middle grade Underground Railroad novel, Dark Enough to See the Stars. Sherry, speaker, author, and creator of But-Kickers: Growing Your Faith Bigger Than your "But!" combines humor with deep truths from Scripture. Becky, who brings a three-inch thick synonym finder to our meetings, wordsmiths science fun for children and offers her Martha's Vineyard books to vacationers each summer. Jo Ann writes with flair as she shares devotionals and stories about her time in China and living on Layton Road. Over the years Vi, Shari, Leslee, Gail, and Cheryl have also made significant contributions to my writing journey.

The team at Lighthouse  Publishing of the Carolinas, with Eddie Jones as Founder and CEO, patiently worked with me over several years. Cindy, the acquisitions editor who handed me a contract last summer, is overseeing my book, making sure it goes through the process smoothly. Andrea has worked with me through two edits and more. She smoothed out the wrinkles and graciously asked, "What do you think?" The Design Team is presently working on the book layout and has put together a marvelous cover. I can't wait to show it to you! Soon the Marketing Team will step in with guidance and direction.

I solicited permission from every person named in our story. Ten people graciously read the manuscript and wrote an endorsement. Then there are the "beta readers," friends with laser-sharp eyes who look for mistakes, reading with expertise. Last but not least are the "influencers" who believe in our story and its power to offer hope in the hard times. They act as the front runners to get the word out and share the book with others.  

Authors don't write their books alone. We gratefully depend on many others to help us. No wonder we want to include a page to say "Thank You."

Life's a little like writing a book, wouldn't you say? We need community, a team of cheerleaders, critiquers, and come-along-siders . . . the give and take of faithful interaction . . . all to push us toward our potential and bring out the best in each other's life stories. 

Photos from bing.com/images 

Crossing a Different Kind of Atlantic

This Thanksgiving, I feel a little like a Pilgrim.

bing.com

Not that I have much in common with the brave little group who sailed into Plymouth on the Mayflower November 11, 1620. They chose to leave all they knew to come to a wild land of unknowns   . . . all for the sake of religious freedom, so the story goes. I wonder if some of them had second thoughts. Yet not one of them sailed back to Europe with the Mayflower after the harsh winter.

In one sense, they left their past behind. Yet in another way, they brought it with them. Their customs, their dress, their values . . . their God. The Pilgrims, as we call them, arrived and stayed in the New World, bonded to their tried and true beliefs. Likely, the very beliefs that gave them the perseverance to follow hard after what they perceived to be the will of God.

Maybe their experience is a little like what happens when life changes for us. We find ourselves crossing an Atlantic of another sort, leaving behind the familiar to discover a season of unknowns, of risks, of uncertainties. Sometimes we make the journey because we desire change - perhaps a new job, better habits, a new baby. And sometimes we're in a new place without our choosing it - an illness, financial loss, or the death of someone close to us . . .

Like the Pilgrims, we bring the past with us, too. The past with its victories and defeats, its wisdom-gaining experiences, its values and beliefs. And the underlying assurance that we have an everlasting God we can trust, no matter where we find ourselves, no matter what happens in our life stories. 

So, this Thanksgiving I want to give thanks.

For the past: For nearly thirty-six years as wife to a man who loved God first, then others - especially me. For all he unwittingly taught me about life, helping me ahead of time with the adjustments and unknowns. For all he poured into our children. For his example of perseverance and grit.

For the present: For God's abundant grace, provision, and care. For the kindnesses of so many who have made this journey bearable and offered up prayers on our behalf. For children and a family who call and care. For the gift of grandchildren.

For the future: For the promises of God which never expire. For new opportunities and experiences. For a coming "New World" of eternal life "forever with the Lord," where we won't be pilgrims anymore.

Have you crossed a different kind of Atlantic recently? Let's gather with the Pilgrims and Indians of the seventeenth century and remember our past and present blessings and the assurance of a bright future.

A New Appreciation

Sometimes I take everyday gifts for granted . . . but don't realize it until they're not there, even temporarily. Can you relate?

bing.com

My husband's  been out of commission for a week and a half. Intense pain brought us to the ER, the primary care physician's office a couple times, and finally to the fourth floor of the hospital. The surgeon removed the pesky problem--or so we thought. It's been a rough recovery, though, which leads me to question if there's isn't more to the issue . . ..

The recliner has become Barry's bed. He's finally keeping clear fluids down . . . yet I wonder what tomorrow will hold. He has tried to engage, but exhaustion has a way of taking its toll. We miss his take on the newspaper headlines, his "living encyclopedia" answers to our questions, and his sense of humor. He can't mow the lawn and trim the yard, take the garbage out, weed the flower beds, or plant the broccoli . . . We've managed to pitch in and take up some of the slack, but we realize one thing more than ever. He does a lot around here!

bing.com

So thank you, Barry, for all you do every day--and more importantly, who you are to all of us. Please get well soon. We love you!

What gifts do you appreciate, perhaps even more because of changes in your life or in the lives of those you love? 

A Belated "Thank You"

I wish I had expressed my gratefulness in the moment. Maybe I didn't understand the value of those treasures until now. Maybe I didn't know I would carry them with me from junior high school all the way to fifty-something. But this week, I want to say "Thank you."

The year I had Miss Latta as a school teacher in fourth grade, we began attending Winchester Community Church. Five blocks from our home, it offered family-friendly programs of which we soon became a part.

I remember singing "O Jesus, I have promised to serve thee to the end . . ." in children's church and "Dare to be a Daniel" in the Junior Department Sunday School opening exercises. In Pioneer Girls, we learned to change a tire (on the pastor's car!), build teepee campfires, and layer lasagna. Our leaders, "Phoebe" and "Chips," not only planned fun overnights and taught us silly songs (that I now sing to my grandson) but  held up God's Word as a "lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path" (Psalm 119:105). 

I loved Sunday evening services. Mr. Holland led the singing like no other. I learned to sing alto by sitting next to Mrs. Davis. The pastor's wife encouraged me to play my flute. Sometimes we played a duet. They even let the young girls take the offering once in a while. In the summers, we enjoyed singspirations at the homes of various church members and sang till we were hoarse. There were always refreshments afterwards.

During Easter week, we came to church almost every night, as I recall. After the sermon, the pastor, also an artist, did a chalk drawing to illustrate his message while the organ played. Then he'd shine different colored lights his picture. Easter Sunday brought us to church early for a sunrise service and breakfast. My mom always made plum and apple raisin kuchens.

Vacation Bible School was the best. For two weeks, every summer, we lined up by departments in the parking lot to say the three pledges. We listened to Bible lessons and missionary stories, learned our verses, and created crafts. Before going home, we gathered in the auditorium and sat on the edge of our seats to find out which team was winning the contest. We sang "We can know that Jesus saves us. We can know. Be assured each moment, everywhere we go . . ."

This past summer, we drove past where the church building used to be. It burned down a while back. The congregation has moved to another location. But the memories live on, memories I cherish.

Thank you to the people from Winchester who invested in a young girl's story. Thank you for giving me the gift of God's Word, the gift of positive spiritual expressions . . . the gift of belonging. 

It's the time to give thanks. What belated thank-yous come to your mind?

The Truth About Trouble . . . Part Two

So, how has your week been? Have you been pursuing truth? Seeking a sense of joy? Even when trouble chases you down and you feel surrounded by unknowns and what ifs? 

Robert J. Morgan, in his book, The Red Sea Rules, writes, "We don't always know why God allows problems, but we know He intends to use them to heighten our maturity and deepen our faith. Trials and troubles are dumbbells and treadmills for the soul. They develop strength and stamina" (page 96). 

The way we handle trouble follows us. Elisabeth Elliot mentioned this in her book, Secure in the Everlasting Arms. "Faithfulness today is the best preparation for the demands of tomorrow" (page 39). God's invitation to ask Him for wisdom in James 1:5 encourages me. We're not alone in our trials.

I've found gratefulness to be a joy-giver. Rather than dwell on the negatives (which seem to multiply at times), we can choose to look for the grace-moments in the midst of hard times. Jotting down what we are thanking God for cements those blessings in our minds - and helps us remember what may too easily be overlooked.

Finding a broader perspective also helps us navigate hard times. Grace Fabian's book, Outrageous Grace: A Story of Tragedy and Forgiveness, recently gave me perspective. Stories of heroes of faith down through the centuries give us courage in adversity. They help us see a bigger picture.

What trials are you facing today?

James wrote, "Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has passed the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him."

bing.com

The truth about trouble? "This light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison . . . " Someday, God Himself will dwell with us. He will wipe away every tear from our eyes, there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying; and there shall be no more pain, for the former things . . . the earthly things . . . the trials of this life . . . will pass away (2 Corinthians 4:14-16; Revelation 21:4).

Now, here's something to be joyful about!