Miracles

Thankfulness always precedes the miracle, is a quote from a favorite book of mine and it is so true.  One thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp, has taught me to look for miracles and treasures in everyday life. 

The Miracle on 34th Street is what we lovingly called our family home at 44 West 34th St., in Holland, Michigan.  We moved to Holland in November of 1986 and Christmas was just around the corner, so it seemed like a perfect name.  Life was very busy then; too busy it seemed to look for miracles.  Many of them live on though, and with a very thankful heart I am able to see them now.  The love of my husband is one, both then and now, but the way it is so beautifully wrapped up in  much, much deeper feelings now is a miraculous gift to me. 

I am so thankful for the little children that I was blessed to raise, and how I have only to look into their adult faces for just a little longer than usual... and there they are, in 1986!

On the First Christmas a very blessed mother treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart (Luke 2:19).  Thank you Lord for this ability to treasure things in our hearts, so we can miraculously re-open them and re-live them later.   Please give assurance to all the hearts that are holding their treasures today with terrible pain and loneliness.  May they be assured that through faith in you, you are with them, so they can't be that far away from those that live with you.  THANK YOU, Jesus, this is the greatest miracle of all!

Teaching Honesty

I have a confession to make; I like to control outcomes.  This morning my devotional read, So keep your focus on the path just before you, leaving outcomes up to Me.  That's it, I thought, that's what I was trying to do last week.  Let me explain.

 I found Sharlet struggling with her backpack when I arrived to pick her up from preschool on Thursday. Trying in vain to put it on over an unzipped and oversized winter coat, she smiled as I rushed to her side hoping to ease her frustration.  "The monkey Sharlet brought to school today is in her backpack,"  explained her teacher, Miss Lise, as we waited  for our turn to exit through the crowded doorway.  I must have looked perplexed because she asked, "It is her monkey isn't it?"    Miss Lise began handing out notes and artwork to other parents and grandparents as I gently turned Sharlet around to unzip her backpack.  I caught Miss Lise's eye again and shook my head, no. Holding the kidnapped monkey out to her I whispered, "Just sneak it back in inside she won't....", but before I could finish explaining my plan Miss Lise broke in, "Oh, no!  I'm going to teach her."  Of course she is, she's a teacher and teachable moments like these are why Sharlet is here; to learn.  I felt ashamed of my desire to take the easy road, to send the monkey back to preschool on the path of least resistance.  Teach her; now there's a revolutionary idea, I thought, sarcasticly heaping a little more shame upon myself.  Miss Lise stooped down to Sharlet's eye-level, and with the coveted monkey in her arms she asked Sharlet again if it belonged to her.  Sharlet began to cry and shook her head, no.  After a brief explanation of why the furry friend could not accompany us, Miss Lise stood up and waved the monkey's arm in a goodbye gesture.  Sharlet took my hand and with tears still flowing, we strode slowly and solemnly to the car. 

I began to do a personal inventory (as we say in the Alanon program) on our drive home that morning.  I asked myself several questions that I didn't have answers to, until now.  Sharlet and I were good students that day.  She learned that deceit will not bring reward, and I learned that trying to control the outcome of a situation can distract me from having a real, God-given positive affect on it.  Thank you, Miss Lise 

Sharlet and Miss Lise

You Hold the Flashlight...

It is a gorgeous autumn day; sunny and warm for Michigan this time of year, and the bikepath outside my window is beckoning me to take a walk. I will be out there soon enough, but first I have a thought that I would like to share.

I have been learning that Jesus needs the consent of my will to enter my heart and my mind.  I have also learned that when I become willing He will guide my thoughts minute by minute.  I've been learning to trust Him with the situations that burden my heart.  I'm learning to trust that when I bring brokeness to Him, He wants to fix it and I have got to leave it there in His hands.  I can't continue to fret and worry about it, which always makes me want to take it back and try to fix it myself.  This picture that appeared on my daughter, Kayla's blog a while ago is a perfect illustration of this for me.

My son-in-law, Daniel is fixing a chair and my grandsons, Bright and Zion are assisting him.  Daniel is allowing them to "help" in order to teach them a little bit about home maintenance and resourcefulness.  Notice Bright's hand very carefully immitating his father's hand and Zion holding the flashlight.  I know there are times when my heavenly father delights in my immitating and joining Him in His work.  He knows I need and want to do something to "help" fix what's broken in this very troubled world we live in.  But, there are other times when He just wants me to hold the flashlight and watch and wait.  Then, when the miracle happens, I'm to keep shining light on it to bring Him the glory for the things He has done.  I love this picture and I'll take it with me, in my heart, on my walk.