I turned 6 yesterday.
Not in life years, of course, but in eternity. In being born-again. Growing older in eternal life, that’s an amusing concept to wrap your mind around. But somehow, as odd and strange as that sounds, it’s true.
Six years. Six years to grow in grace. Six years to walk in the Spirit. And six years, since I first met Him.
It seems so short, and yet as if I always have known Him. And yet, even the longest life, the most years, wouldn’t be enough to know Him — why, even eternity is barely enough to sing His praises.
And, oh, how young, how foolish I still am! So ensnared in my vanity, so tangled up with pride, so caught up with those idols which long ago should have died — inside of me can be a raging, chaotic turmoil of emotions and anger and impatience and fear and — and He hasn’t left. He’s still here. Continue reading
I have a love-hate relationship with New Year’s resolutions. Or perhaps it’s more of a love-hate-appreciate relationship? Let me explain.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become one of those people who love to be organized (which was an immense surprise to all parties involved). I schedule my day’s activities, I sort my study materials into little folders, and even my closet is (semi) categorized by season and color. There is an immense satisfaction in checking off the boxes of my to-do list, and one by one seeing the white emptiness disappear.
But there’s a problem. I love the idea of fulfilling my to-do list, of keeping my area decluttered, of staying organized, of having these grand New Year’s resolutions that help me to better my life.
But I am an utter failure at doing so.
Because every year, about a week or so (if I’m lucky) after January 1st, after we’ve all caught up on sleep and swept up the streamers, there comes That Day. Continue reading
A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.
There was a boy named Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it.
You can recognize all these. Perhaps you barely even had to read them, they’re so familiar. They make us grin, they call forth memories, and they evoke emotions. Your heart is instantly swept away into another land, full of adventure, danger, and wonder. But very little of that is because of them. Just those sentences themselves aren’t much. There’s no elegant structure here. There’s no eloquent prose. In fact, they all consist almost entirely of single-syllable words! They’re not stories, they’re not chapters, and they’re barely even full sentences. Taken simply as words by themselves, they have little power.
No, we love them because they are beginnings. We love them because they herald what is coming next.
And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed. (Luke 2:1)
And I think this is how we should love Christmas as well. Of course, most people do enjoy Christmas. Ask most people on the street, and — unless they are the living incarnation of Scrooge or the Grinch himself — they’ll smile and agree that it’s one of the most wonderful times of the year.
His soft little hands stretched open, reaching for the warmth of His mother. Red and wrinkled, His small body was wrapped snugly, safe from the bitter winter air. Continue reading
As you may know, this month is Orphan November, a time set apart to consider and support the vulnerable and fatherless. While I myself haven’t been able to do much on my blog about it this month because, well, we were busy ensuring there was one less orphan 🙂 ; my dear friend Christ in Me has a whole section of her lovely blog dedicated to orphan care. She asked me if I could share a bit of our story to finish out Orphan November, and I thought I would share with you all as well.
Stories are strange things. Because it isn’t the big, important people who are usually the main characters; it’s not the sunny, lovely days that move the story along. It’s the little people who become the heroes. It’s the disasters that cause the quest.
I don’t really know the beginning of your story. But I think it must have started like many others. With a brave little mother, a brave little father, and a brave little baby. I like to think they loved you dearly, you adorable little ball of sass and sweetness. But then disaster hit. Your head started swelling.
I don’t know if they knew what was wrong. I don’t know if they had ever heard of hydrocephalus. I don’t know if they tried to get the doctor’s help. But I think they must have fought for you. You were their beloved one, their beautiful baby and now —
Four months. That’s all they had with you. They give up their child. But they gave you a chance. A chance at help, a chance at love, a chance at life. They couldn’t help you, but they knew who could. So one night, a brave little baby was left at the gate of the best orphanage in the province.
And so ended the first chapter of this story. But that wasn’t the only family fighting for hope.
Because another story was unfolding in another little family.
Read the rest over at So I Fix My Eyes
You can read my thoughts before we left for China here
Introductions are tricky things.
Here is a new person: wonderful, broken, and beautiful; here is a new relationship: laughter, frustration, and love; here is a new adventure: exhilarating, terrifying, and enchanting. All that potential, all that unknown, and all you have are words — four simple, small words — to unlock it.
Once upon a time.
“Hello, I am Isabelle.” Continue reading
It is a good thing to give thanks unto the LORD, and to sing praises unto Thy name, O most High: to shew forth Thy lovingkindness in the morning, and thy faithfulness every night. Psalm 92:1-2
We need to praise God, to thank Him always.
Period. Full stop.
I honestly don’t have to go on, nor expand this any further. Even the child who knows his catechism can tell you this. What is the chief end of man? To glorify God and to enjoy Him forever. Now of course, this answer has an ocean, an universe of meaning behind it, yet still can be compressed into one simple sentence.
But oftentimes, it is the simplest commandments which are also the easiest to overlook. We get caught up in the everyday chaos, the everyday drama, the everyday business; and forget. Continue reading
That seems wrong, doesn’t it? How dare I say such a thing! God is the omnipotent, omnipresent, all-knowing, all-good Lord of all. He keeps the universe twirling, the waves roaring, and the atoms together, and I think He can’t deal with my problems? How presumptuous am I to think that He can’t fulfil my wants and needs!
And yet, we live this way. Continue reading