Minding My Matters

Wednesday, August 10, 2022

A Once-Reluctant Hoosier

My husband often jokes that when we moved to Indiana 23 years ago, there were two heel marks behind us all the way from Wisconsin. They were mine. I was not eager to leave my home state. I mean…the Packers, cheese, brats, rolling green hills, people who when you say “hey,” say things like “hay is cheaper, grass is free, marry a farmer you get all three.” It was a great place to grow up. Things had been good in Wisconsin when we left. Our church was thriving, I was about to start teaching women’s Bible study, and we had a great bunch of friends. But God was calling us to Indiana, so we went—me a bit reluctantly. OK, a lot reluctantly.

I could never have imagined that 23 years later I would miss Northwest Indiana.

When we first moved there, the town we moved to was pretty dumpy. And the house we moved into was dark (wooded on three sides with dark wood paneling on the inside). There were even mushrooms growing in the shower (for real!). I didn’t know how I could manage to live there. I slipped pretty quickly into depression.

But eventually, the town turned itself around. New businesses sprang up. The dumpiness gave way to beauty. After a few years, we moved into a house that was sunny. I got into gardening and jewelry-making and scrapbooking and won ribbons at the county fair. I made friends. We found a growing church. We made it home.

A couple of weeks ago, we moved to Georgia to the greater Atlanta area—away from all of our family and most of our friends. And it’s been hard. Much harder than I had expected. I knew it would be tough to leave just about everyone we loved. But back in November, I made the decision to leave my job of 18 years at our church and work from home as a writer/editor. And that was fine when I was in a place where I could text a friend and say, “let’s do coffee” if I got stir-crazy. When you move to a place where you don’t know anyone, you just have coffee alone.

I was not dragging my heels this time around. I was determined that this time I would not be depressed and I would try to meet people and plug in and take on this adventure that God has us on (my husband’s job was transferred here). But we are living in temporary housing while we look for a place to live and it’s tough to figure out how to meet people. In all honesty, I’m just lonely.

I miss my Indiana people—all different kinds of people. Broken people in recovery. Storytellers who keep you in stitches with all their amazing stories. Servants who care for others with joy and zeal. Pastors who taught me God’s Word and trash talked with me over March Madness. Fun people who know how to do a proper game night. Coffee people who know how to make a proper mocha. (If you’re ever in Valparaiso, Indiana, stop at Uptown Café and get a mocha. Tell them Cherry sent you). Writers who graciously allowed me the privilege of editing their work. Women who allowed me the privilege of teaching them God’s Word. Counselors who pushed me to get to the root of the issue. Struggling friends I pushed to get to the root of the issue. Gardening people. People who asked for my advice about gardening. People I met only once or twice that I really connected with. Hairdressers. Movie buddies. Neighbors. Coworkers. Encouragers. Small group members. Many people who love Jesus.

Every one of them is precious to me. I met every one of them for a reason. I can only hope that I played some small, hopefully positive, role in their lives. I know they have played a role in this little play of mine. I don’t know how many acts are left in this play, but I know that Act 2 turned out far better than I could have imagined. I will forever be grateful for my Indiana peeps.

Those heel marks weren’t really necessary.

Do you remember what it’s like to move to a new community? What advice do you have for meeting new people?

Sunday, April 21, 2019

Easter in the Graveyard

The alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. this morning. On a Sunday. A holiday. Anyone who knows me knows I am NOT a morning person. I don’t normally even think of dragging my body out of bed before 7:00 a.m. But this morning, I got up joyfully as it was time to worship our resurrected Savior.

A year or two ago, my friend Gail told me about a radical Easter sunrise service she attended. They worshiped—at sunrise—in a graveyard. I told my husband about it and he thought it was a terrific idea. This year, due to work and other obligations, we were not spending the holiday with family, so we decided it was a perfect time to do it. And we couldn’t have asked for nicer weather on April 21!

So, a little after 5:30 a.m. (come on, you didn’t really think I leapt out of bed right on the dot, did you?), we threw on some warm clothes (it was still about 35 degrees when we left the house) and we drove a few miles to a little graveyard near our house. There were no houses or buildings nearby, so it was just us and a slew of birds singing to us in the small woods behind the cemetery.

Dave had drawn up the service with parts taken from Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals by Shane Claiborne and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove and the Revised Common Lectionary. We found a good spot where we could spy the sun rising and started with “Christ is risen!” “He is risen indeed!”

The first song we sang was “Come People of the Risen King” by Keith & Kristyn Getty & Stuart Townend. The playlist Dave had spent an hour or two putting together last night didn’t play for some reason, so we improvised. I told him he could probably find the songs on YouTube. It worked! We sang along with the Gettys as the sun came up over the horizon:

“Come people of the risen King

Who delight to bring Him praise

Come all and tune your hearts to sing

To the morning star of grace.”

It was glorious!

A prayer refrain we repeated several times as part of the liturgy was, “Just when I thought I was lost; my dungeon shook, and the chains fell off.” It was a great reminder of the resurrected life that begins when one trusts in Christ as their Savior!

From there, we read Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24, reading alternate lines back and forth. Then it was on to the song “Famous One,” written by Chris Tomlin and Jesse Reeves. The line that struck me while in that place was,

“The morning star is shining through

And every eye is watching You

Revealed by nature and miracles

You are beautiful, You are beautiful.”

Revealed by nature indeed! All around us, birds were chirping, the sun shone brightly as the moon reflected its light, and fresh fallen dew drops sparkled in the sunlight on the grass. It was so easy to see the image of the Lord reflected in His creation.

Then Dave read Acts 10:34-43, the Apostle Peter’s concise gospel presentation to the Gentiles in Caesarea. I couldn’t help but think about how Peter’s obedience to preach to the Gentiles eventually, over centuries, led to me trusting in Christ as my Savior—another resurrection!

Dave had me read the resurrection account of Jesus from John 20:1-18. There are so many things to love about this account. John telling the story and mentioning that he outran Peter to the tomb. Is that a loving ribbing between friends? They saw the strips of linen and what is now known as the Shroud of Turin lying there in the empty tomb, and it says John “saw and believed.” What was it about the position of those things that caused him to believe? Did he remember at that moment that Jesus told them He would rise again?

What I really love is that Mary Magdalene, one of Jesus’ most devoted followers, comes to the tomb and thinks the risen Jesus is the gardener. Did she not recognize him through her tears of grief? She says, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.” (John 20:15) What does she think she’s going to do with Jesus’ body by herself? Obviously, in her grief, she was not thinking too clearly!

And then Jesus simply says, “Mary.” Instantly, she recognizes Him and though she tries to cling to Him, He instructs her to go instead to the disciples to tell them the Good News. When she gets to them, she likely shouts joyfully, “I have seen the Lord!” What an incredible moment given their days of crushing heartbreak. Jesus is alive!

We completed our singing with “Fairest Lord Jesus.” It was fun to sing “Fair is the sunshine, Fairer still the moonlight,” as we could see both from our vantage point. We prayed the Lord’s Prayer and inserted our own spontaneous prayers, including one for all those who died at the hands of slaveowners and lynch mobs over the years. (We’ve both just completed “An American Lent,” a Lenten devotional from www.repentanceproject.org, which we wholeheartedly recommend. It’s definitely worth your time. And there will be more on that in a future post.) We finished with a simple benediction that included the words, “May He bring you home rejoicing.”

We did rejoice throughout the day, but as we left, I noticed the grave of three children, born in the late 1800s. The first lived a month, then died. The other two were twins. One lived six days, the other lived two. I thought about the tragedy that family faced. The heartbreak. Did they have any more children? But then the glorious thought occurred to me that even now, those children are with Jesus in glory. I hope they are also reunited with their parents.

So that was how our Easter began in a graveyard. What a fitting place to be to celebrate our Lord’s resurrection! Later that morning, we joined our church in singing, “Glorious Day.”[1]

“You called my name
And I ran out of that grave
Out of the darkness
Into Your glorious day.”

More than 25 years ago, Jesus called me to Himself and I ran out of the grave of sin, despair, and emptiness into His glorious, illuminating presence. I have not regretted a single day with Jesus. Those days have not always been easy, but He has walked alongside me the entire way, healing me, rebuking me, encouraging me, and always loving me. It is my prayer that if you don’t yet know Him, that you would earnestly seek Him and then you too could be released from your “grave.” Then one day, you will spend eternity with the lover of your soul.

How did you spend your Easter?

[1] Songwriters: Jason Ingram, Jonathan Smith, Kristian Stanfill, Sean Curran

Monday, March 4, 2019

My 90-Day Bible Adventure: Part 2

Lessons Learned from Reading the Bible in 90 Days

Here are the three lessons that stood out for me from reading the Bible in 90 days.

Sin and its Devastating Effects — When I read the Bible in 90 days, I saw just how awful humans are when left to our own devices. “There is no one righteous, not even one.” (Romans 3:10) One example is the exile. For some reason I never fully understood just how devastating it was to the Israelites. This time, I saw it as a precursor to the final exile—for those who don’t know Jesus—in eternity. God had removed His glory from the people and gave them over to their sin after years and years of mercy and grace, but also warning that disobeying Him would lead to their abandonment forever. It was so sad to read Jeremiah and Lamentations after reading Exodus and Joshua. The Israelites had worked so hard to get their land only to lose it all by abandoning the one true God for empty idols.

God is Awesome! He is love. He is merciful. He is full of grace and truth. He is so incredibly patient! He is sovereign. He is holy, holy, holy. He is just. He is forgiving. He knows all things. He is powerful. He is strong. He is a refuge in times of trouble. Getting to know Him in His Word has caused me to love Him more than I ever have before.

I Can Read the Bible Daily—I used to think there was no way I could fit Bible reading into my life (which is not the right way to look at it!). But God is not a leftover. He wants all of me and He wants me first. Doesn’t He deserve that after all that He has done for me? Challenging myself to do this proved that I could. Now a “normal” daily reading is easier because I have made it a daily habit. I can spend more time meditating on it and really absorbing it. Sometimes, you just need to set what seems like an impossible goal to force yourself to step up to the challenge. Rest assured, the Holy Spirit will help you along the way.

Have you ever read the Bible through in its entirety? If not, why not? If so, did you do it over a year or a couple years? What did God teach you through that time?

Monday, February 25, 2019

My 90-Day Bible Adventure: Part 1

I recently published my first article in a long time and several people have asked where they could find it. The first part of that article is what you will find below (I'll post the second part next week - hey, that guarantees me three posts in my blogging reboot). It was originally published in Just Between Us Magazine (Spring 2019 issue; www.justbetweenus.org). I've been a volunteer Editorial Assistant for them for almost 20 years now and I would highly recommend you consider subscribing to this fantastic magazine for women in ministry.

My 90-Day Bible Adventure: Part 1

I read the Bible in 90 days…and you can too (really!)

How’s your devotional life? Did you make a resolution to read your Bible in a year? Did you leave it behind in Leviticus or ditch it in Deuteronomy? I have good news for you: you can still keep that resolution this year. Yes, you read that correctly. You can read the Bible—the whole thing—in just 90 days. I know because I’ve done it. And it was one of the best things I’ve ever done to boost my faith.

Before you dismiss me as some super Christian who spends two hours a day in her Bible, that is not me. In fact, to be honest, I have been a Christian for 25 years, but I am ashamed to say I have never been consistent in my Bible reading. I have read the Bible through before twice—once in four years and once in two. I love studying the Bible, but reading it is not my forte. I think it stems from my dislike of reading anything more than once. I know that the Bible is living and active and new every time I read it, but it still takes great effort for me to read it consistently day in and day out.

So, when the idea popped into my head to read the entire Bible in 90 days, I thought I had lost my mind. If I couldn’t do it in a year, how in the world was I going to do it in three months? Yet I couldn’t shake the Holy Spirit’s prompting. If I could stick to such a rigorous plan for 90 days, wouldn’t that make Bible reading a lot easier? Spoiler alert: yes!

How can you possibly do this with a job, kids, and your crazy, busy life? Try the YouVersion Bible in 90 Days Plan created by Ted Cooper. The plan is to read approximately 12-15 chapters a day, which takes about an hour. Most of us can’t do that all in one sitting, but we can read portions throughout the day. For example, I often read a chapter or two in the morning, listened to two or three chapters on my way to work, read a chapter or two on my lunch break, listened to two or three chapters on my way home from work, and then finished it off before bed. Were there nights when I didn’t finish? Yes, but I made myself catch up the next morning or on the weekend.

Why should you do it?

It will give you a hunger for the Word. I found when I got to Psalms and Proverbs, I really wanted to stop and meditate on the passage, but I couldn’t do that and reach my 90-day goal. I did pick out a verse or two each day to meditate on, but my objective with reading it so quickly was to grasp more of the overarching themes of the Bible. Not being able to stop and meditate gave me a hunger to come back and read those passages more slowly the next time and incorporate them into my life.

It will help you in teaching, mentoring, or discipling others. The whole Word of God was still fresh to me as I prepared to teach on a specific passage of Scripture that fall. It helped me plug that piece of Scripture into the greater context of the whole Bible as I taught, mentored, and discipled others.

It is your only offensive weapon against the devil and his schemes. In Ephesians 6, we see that we have many defensive weapons: the helmet of salvation, breastplate of righteousness, shield of faith, belt of truth, and shoes fitted with the gospel of peace. But we only have one offensive weapon: the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. It’s pretty hard to wield a weapon you don’t have! When trials come and Satan whispers in your ear, it’s important to know the verses that match your situation.

It will help you connect the Old and New Testaments better. I was recently studying the birth narrative of Jesus and His name—Immanuel—God with us. The Holy Spirit brought to mind that God’s presence was with God’s people in the tabernacle. He was with us in the physical person of Jesus as a human being. And He is with us now – indwelling His children. I had never before realized that God has been with His people throughout time in every person of the Trinity. What a glorious thought!

It will enhance your worship of God. Now that the totality of Scripture is more familiar to me, my soul resonates with Scriptural truths and they come to mind more frequently. I can worship Him more fully and completely because I know Him better. And isn’t that the whole point of Scripture?

What are you waiting for? Jump into the best spring read ever—the Bible!

P.S. Let me know if you decide to embark on this adventure! You won't regret it!

Sunday, February 17, 2019

Heeding God's Call

“I would recommend not putting off writing
if it’s something you feel called to:
if you put it off, then the writing can’t do the work
that it needs to do to you.”
(Linford Detweiler from the band Over the Rhine)

Photo by Kaitlyn Baker

I found the above quote in a mass email sent to me in April 2009. At the end of that same email Linford wrote, “Maybe a writer will find [this], God help her.” A writer has found it. And she does indeed need God’s help…to deal with the wave of regret raging like a torrent through her life. That email hit me right between the eyes at the time and yet I still filed the dream away for another three years without touching a keyboard. I did eventually start this blog. It lasted about 6 weeks. A year later, I restarted this blog one more time...for a month. Here I am again—more than five years later (gulp).

To be honest, I can't really give you a good reason for my long absence. Partly, it’s because I have not been following God’s call on my life. I know that we are always called to use the gifts and talents we have been given in order to build up the body of believers. For me, that call, at least in part, involves writing. Yet, nearly every day I find an excuse not to do it. I’ve been cupping my hands over my ears saying, “La-la-la-la-la-la!” and running 180 degrees in the other direction like Jonah. What’s funny is that I thought God wouldn’t notice that I had booked a flight to Tarshish.

The first whisper of this call came to me in 6^th grade when I got my first A+ on a writing assignment in English class. It was a limerick about a toad crossing the road. It didn’t end well for Mr. Toad, but that A+ did something in my soul. Something came alive. Someone heard my voice…and liked it. I was the youngest in my family by ten years, I was bullied regularly, and I didn’t have a lot of friends. I felt invisible. Writing gave me an outlet; an alternate universe I could thrive in. I started writing poems in my room at night. I wrote about clouds and rainbows, a crush on Robert Redford, and kicking the butts of those bullies. I continued to pursue writing through high school and college, taking writing course after writing course, even majoring in English with a writing emphasis—yet I didn’t really do much actual writing.

Why not? The simple answer is fear. Fear shows its fangs in my life mostly through catastrophic thinking. Psychology Today defines this as “ruminating about irrational worst-case outcomes.”[1] Can anyone out there identify with that? It’s easy to write a first draft. I have about 50 blog post drafts sitting in a folder on my computer. Editing is where my perfectionism and tornadic thoughts kill them. Which word is best? Should I really keep this sentence? Does this one get my point across so that you truly understand it the way I meant it? What if I offend someone? (How can I NOT offend someone these days?) How do you perceive me? What if you don’t (gulp) like me? 😯

That’s one side of my catastrophic thinking. The other side goes something like this: if God has given me this gift, then surely He will bless it, right? So, my blog will gain attention. I’ll be so widely read that soon I’ll be laughing on the couch with Savannah Guthrie and Hoda Kotb on Today. Then Jimmy Fallon will call—personally. Publishers will line up at my door begging me to write a book—no three! Soon the blitz of media coverage and the demands to do book signings and speaking engagements will become so overwhelming I can’t breathe and then…. It. Will. End. No one will want me anymore. Someone will take my place as the “it girl” and I’ll be cast aside like an empty pop can.

Sigh. Welcome to my brain. I apologize for not giving you fair warning. But this is how I sometimes think. I have trouble staying in the moment. I am a chronic overthinker and it sometimes paralyzes me. And that’s at least partially why you haven’t heard from me in a while. I’ve let the enemy win this ridiculous battle.

Except that he hasn’t won the war. I’m not dead yet! It’s time for me to start fighting back. My heart is full of words that must be shared, even if it’s just among friends. I want to “mind my matters” with you because I believe we all process the world we live in far better if we do it out loud in the company of friends. So, this post is the start of “writing” that wrong. (My love of word play hasn’t gone anywhere!) I am recommitting myself to you and to this blog.

So here I am. If you’re new, it’s nice to meet you. If we’re old friends, bring it in for a (((hug))). Let’s process this crazy world together, shall we?

But before I sign off, this isn't just about what God is calling me to. What is God calling you to? What’s that nagging feeling you can’t shake? Does he want you to serve the poor? Forgive someone? Mentor a teen? Does He want you to drop something from your schedule so that you can help get your kid through a difficult phase in their life? Is it time to complete your college degree? Start a new business? Read 12 books in a year? Fast for 24 hours? Fix a bad attitude? Let me urge you as one who has ignored God long enough, DO IT TODAY.

You may feel like Indiana Jones in the Last Crusade walking off the edge of a cliff, but rest assured, if you’re in the center of God’s will, there is solid ground beneath you. And if you’re reading this, I just walked right off that ledge—but amazingly, I find myself standing on a more than solid Rock.

[1] Ron Breazeale, Ph.D., “Catastophic Thinking,” Psychology Today, PsychologyToday.com, accessed 5-2-16

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Micromanaging God

Have you ever been micromanaged by someone? I don’t know many people who enjoy it. It’s rather disheartening to be asked to do a job that you are more than capable of doing and then have someone question everything you’re doing, reverse all your decisions, and take away whatever little authority you thought you had in the first place. It certainly does nothing to boost morale.

My mom used to do this to me when I was a kid. One of the chores I had to do was dusting. I would dust the coffee table and the end tables and an hour later I would see her doing it over again. What was the point of having me do it if she was just going to re-do it? I didn't do a bad job of dusting. I just didn't do it perfectly the way she wanted it done.

At its core, micromanaging is an issue of trust. People who micromanage probably had their trust demolished by someone in their past and now they’re getting their control freak on to make sure it never happens again. Meanwhile, they make everyone around them miserable. When someone breaks your trust, it’s very difficult to pick yourself up and open your heart wide again. It becomes easy to distance yourself, ignore criticism, and become a dictator. There’s just one problem with this: all relationships are built on trust. If you stop trusting people, you might as well go live off the grid somewhere because no one will want to be around you.

I've had three friends obliterate my trust. The first one was around 4^th grade. She introduced me to her new best friend and dropped me like I was last year’s cool toy. In high school, one girl “unfriended” me because she thought I was making a move on the guy she liked. (Is tossing a Frisbee to a guy some kind of mating ritual I’m not aware of?) Another friend approached me with a literal gang of people I had never seen before (while I was on a date!) accusing me of telling her mother that she was doing drugs in the back seat of her car. I didn't know she was doing any such thing, but if I had, I probably would have told her mother! I was blindsided in every case. Yeah, I have trust issues.

For the past two and a half years of my husband’s underemployment, I've been doing a fair amount of yelling at God. I've been telling Him how to do His job. I've questioned His timing (Why does God always seem to act at the very last moment?), His care, and even His love. Why can’t He do things the way I want them done? And then it hit me: I've been micromanaging God. Imagine what it must feel like to know that you are the most capable being in the universe and have someone question your capabilities! God sent His only Son to die on my behalf so that I, a wretch who couldn't be more undeserving, could spend a blissful eternity with Him. And I have the audacity to question Him? Really?

I think it may be time to start focusing on the things God has done for me. He enabled us to eliminate $25,000 worth of debt in four years and stay debt-free for 14. He brought me and my husband together though we grew up 10 years apart and came from very different backgrounds. (Isn't every married couple a mini-miracle?) He provided the down payment for our current house, which saved us about $300/month and is the only way we are staying afloat financially right now. What exactly isn't He doing right? Do I really want God to do things my way? Yeah, my way would be never wanting for anything. I don’t see that working out so well for basically anyone who lives in Hollywood, so what makes me think that would work out any better for me?

This micromanager needs to find a way to trust again. How do you rebuild trust? Baby steps. What if I actually prayed for guidance on how to proceed with a major task today? Or maybe the next time that difficult person comes around I could send up a silent prayer--Lord, help me to see them through your eyes. Perhaps instead of worrying over my husband's job, I could choose instead to simply rest in God's plan and trust that whatever He's working on, it's going to be good. If I took the time to get to know God better and really watched Him at work, I would stop micromanaging because I would recognize His capabilities. The funny thing is that He was capable all along. I just have to take my eyes off myself and put them on the right person to see that.

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Prairie Salad

I am looking out over the prairie at Taltree Gardens & Arboretum on a perfect 80 degree day. It reminds me of the meadow that was next door to our house when I was little. I remember making a bed in the long grass and lying in it so that I could watch the puffy clouds as they strolled by. I wondered at the balancing plates of Queen Anne's lace, giggled as I chased after yellow moths, and stood in silent amazement upon discovering a monarch cocoon on some milkweed. One of my favorite things to do was create prairie "salads" for Mom out of mixed greens, "bacon bits" of yellow dock, and the yellow "eggs" of wild snapdragons. Most of all, when I think of that meadow, I remember joy. Pure, unspoiled joy.

Queen Anne's Lace

Yellow Dock

Wild Yellow Snapdragon

As I sit here at Taltree and watch two butterflies dance and see a hummingbird alight on a tree and spy a hawk soaring overhead, I catch a wisp of that joy and I want to seize it, bottle it, and take it with me so that I can fight off the sadness and bitterness of the world.

Is that kind of joy still possible as an adult? Is joy allowed? Can we still find pure, unadulterated joy when there are work deadlines looming and dinner needs to be on the table and chores never end?

I am learning that a lot of what keeps me from joy is my perfectionism. Why can't I shake it? Why can't I give up the control? I do a terrible job of running my own life—why can't I put my life in the hands of...oh, I don't know...the One who made the universe? If He can spin planets and hang them in the sky, I'm pretty sure He can handle my mundane life. Why can't I learn to wait? Why do I demand that God always work on my time schedule? Why can’t I just learn to trust, rest, and relax? Little happy Cherry haunts me because I struggle to believe I once was her and I can’t quite figure out how I got here.

So I have a chat with God in the prairie. I pour out my heart. I tell Him how desperately I want to let go of the control. I want to trust Him, but how? I think about how I learn to trust anyone. I spend time with them, watch them work, look at how they treat others, and observe if they keep their promises.

So if I’m going to trust God, I need to spend more time with Him. I’m pretty inconsistent with that, but I can improve. I've seen God do amazing work in my life like provide well-timed housing and $1 cars. And hasn't He turned many things I've called “bad” into good? Why should I expect the current trial to be different? What has God done in my life that I expect bad from Him? God wrote the Golden Rule, so I’m pretty sure He treats others better than anyone I know. And He always keeps His promises. So what’s not to trust?

If I don't grab hold of His grace and mercy and love every day, the world wins. So often, I start the day asking the Lord to show me how to prioritize my day and then I jump in with my Type-A boots on and do my own thing and completely ignore Him. I long to relax and let go; let go of the worry and fear and pride and selfishness and just live for today and enjoy it.

Lord, remind me each day to meditate on your Word and rely on the Holy Spirit for guidance. Show me how to wait for you and trust. Teach me to thank you for every good gift (and they’re all good). Help me realize just how big you are so that I can see just how small I really am. Teach me to abide. To rest. To love. Remind me that I can do NOTHING without you. Grant me more moments of this peace that embraces the soul.

Help me to capture this joy and never let it go.