Perspective

Recently, I was rummaging around a local antique store hunting for something unique and thrifty for our home. I looked around in the discounted room and saw something I just had to have.

Beauty.

 

It was a well used and pretty fragile clothes wringer.  The manufacturer's name long gone from the faded and splitting wood. Gently, I cranked the rusty handle and the gears turned! I could see layers on layers of while powder shimmer on the working rolls.

Greatness!

There was something else I found, a shift in my perspective on laundry. I was looking at vintage laundry room decor, but God was showing me something better. He was changing my heart towards a daily chore and my uh, frenemy relationship with my washer.

Joy!

My washer is automatic once I load and put the detergent in it.  Dirty clothes go in and soon our family of 7 has clean clothes. I don't crank any handles or wring and rinse for hours. One hour. 

Boom!

I don't look forward to doing the laundry. But as I look at the vintage washer sitting on the shelf above my washing machine I can't help but feel relief and joy. Adding a few treasures and my grandmother's sewing kit the view is much better. My perspective and attitude towards my washer is improving.

Gratitude.

 Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.  Colossians 3:15-17 NIV

Brave

 Brave.
Alone I am not brave.
I fear both the present and the future for my older son. The more I research and read posts from other parents seeking answers and understanding the greater the fear grows. At times it is hard to breathe.  There is no cure and most children with similar diagnoses have really depressing lifelong battles.  I have been brought to the end of myself and then some. Parenting a child with special needs wasn't anything I ever asked for or planned.

Yet.
As I look up with whatever I have left in my heart and trust that God has a plan for our son. A plan that is for his good and ours. I slowly dare myself to hope. Hope that the life verse that we claimed for our son nearly 9 years ago are still true. Hope that God is just as powerful as I imagined He could be. Hope that moving forward and continuing to raise this surprising and challenging boy will bless his life and the lives of our 4 other children. Hope that God will sustain the godly people that are healthy and safe friends for us.

Grin.
This boy that has kicked holes in many walls. Punched and spat in my face. He camly jumps rope and asks me to count how far he can go. 8 jumps and then a miss as he laughs it off while he tries again. This boy of both sorrow and rage. An anger that is inexplicable and uncontrollable to all but You God. He runs over to me and for the third time in a week gives me a hug instead of the hit I am used to.

Brave.
How I want to be brave!
Alone I am a coward waiting for the thunderous rage to begin. Wondering how long before the next storm begins and how to repair the damage left behind in our hearts. How I want to be free and honor you God during our sons violent rages. I want to show my daughters that love doesn't hurt and my other son to cherish his one day-way-way-in-the-future-may-not-be-born-yet wife. I am trusting and hoping in you God to be brave.

Joshua 1:9 Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid do not be discouraged for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. NIV

Abide

Abide.
Abide in me.
Apart from me you can do nothing.

Abide. The being with God as He is doing. 

Abide. He is joy and peace.

Abide.

His Grace IS tasty

Crowder's song Come As You Are.

Come out...

Come find your mercy...

...come home you are not too far...

There's hope.

 Come sit...

Come taste the grace.

Maybe this is what another David tasted in Psalm 34?

Today I choose His grace.

His grace IS tasty.

Rusty, but still works

We took a loooong break from blogging and formal ministry. Grateful that Our Daddy does not need or ever takes a break. Sometimes He allows us to see and experience glimpses of Himself.

His provision as wells are dug and meals are distributed hundreds of miles away.

His timing as a much needed vehicle is presented one Sunday morning.

His steadfast love expressed through a rose to the widows.

His respite for weary parents in an afternoon of free childcare.

His gentle touch as the feet of the homeless are cleaned.

His words as a mother speaks for her daughter who cannot.

His  restoration as a vow is renewed.

His beauty, shamelessly radiant and deeper than congenital defects or surgical scars.

His  compassion as a body partners to sponsor children.

His strong joy that sustains while trials rage.

His gift of family as an orphan becomes a son.


Sometimes we've misunderstood and expected sunflowers when He's planted daisies. Sometimes we were too distracted by the rocks that we chose to carry or the blisters we did not allow Him to heal. And sometimes, we just got tired and left the tools and the field.


Still He calls,

Still He loves,

Still He reminds us that the rake gets rusty, but still works.