Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you. Isaiah 60:1
I used to awaken our children by entering their rooms waving my hands in the air and singing, “Rise and shine and give God the glory. Glory. Children of the Lord.”
I can still hear their groans as they covered their heads and tried to postpone the start of another day.
Some days are like that. We don’t feel ready to arise, and we definitely aren’t ready to shine! LOL
But isn’t God awesome. With the gift of each new day we are invited to rise and shine.
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As a mom, I sometimes hear certain statements made by my children that could rattle my nerves. One of those is the beloved “that’s not fair” statement. As a parent, it is my responsibility to teach my children about fairness. Even so, to a child, almost everything that goes against what they desire is unfair. At least in my household it is. If something doesn’t go their way, it’s automatically not fair.
“Mom, why does sissy get to stay up later?”
“Because she’s older.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Mom, can you buy me a candy bar?”
“No. You haven’t had dinner.”
“That’s not fair!”
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If you are like me, which hopefully you are not, exercise is one of the things that I often put on the back burner of my life. If I had a daily video of my life you might see me wake up in the morning, examine my face in the mirror, recognize that yes, I am getting older. Then I would go to the coffee maker and you would see a thought bubble come up above my head that wishes the coffee were somehow an IV that I could just have a constant stream of caffeine coursing through my veins. After the thought bubble burst into flames because that is not a possibility, the next thought bubble would pop up, this time pondering if I should exercise before I hop in the shower.
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Yep. I watch it all right.
I’ll admit some of the outfits aren’t made with as much material as my great-grandmother’s hankies, but I can’t help but watch Dancing With the Stars. I’m drawn in each week as the ladies spin and twirl and the gentlemen dip and swagger.
With breath held, I lean towards the television set hoping no one falls or worse – has a wardrobe malfunction. Then I wait to see how the judges respond to the footwork, chemistry, and choreography.
More often than not, my take on the dance differs greatly from the judges. They are quite critical, pointing out the tiniest missteps, while I’m on my feet clapping at the beauty of it all.
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When I was growing up, my family often gathered together at the dinner table – all seven of us. I so appreciated my mother’s home-cooked meals – fried chicken and scalloped potatoes, tacos and refried beans, BBQ hamburgers. More than the food though, I appreciated that dinner was a time to be with my family – to laugh together, share about our day, our hopes and dreams. I just knew that when I grew up, I was going to cook for my family every night so that we could experience what I did when I was young. I had good intentions, but then life happened.
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“The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak.” ~ Hans Hofmann
“Hey!” Kendall walked into the kitchen. It was the twinkle in her eyes more than her excited tone that captured my attention. “Can you come here for a minute?”
I dried my hands on a towel and then followed her into the living room. She walked to the hutch which now housed the collection of salt and pepper shakers I had inherited from my grandmother. I thought for sure she must have more questions about them. She reached one tiny hand out but – instead of fingering one of the sets in fascination like she had earlier – she pointed to the round tin with the letters S I M P L I F Y stenciled on the side that sat tucked out of the way on the bottom shelf.
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On Tuesday, I mopped the floor.
On Wednesday, I diligently picked up crumbs– bits of nectarine muffin, corn flakes, pieces of granola. Exclaiming over and over again as they ate — “be careful!” “Lean over the table!” “Don’t make a mess!”
Aaaah — the once-a-month psycho gotta-keep-my-floor-clean mom. Nobody likes her. She doesn’t like herself. But she loves that clean floor feeling — no need to peel up toes from sticky spots or dust crumbs off heels. Clean. And when she waits a month to do it, mopping the stick and grime off the floor is a huge job. A result worthy of enjoyment — for much longer than a few minutes.
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I met Arminda on my trip to Bolivia with the World Vision Blogger Team. Arminda has a mother, father, and four older brothers. She didn’t have the typical arrival to her family. You see Arminda was abandoned. Neighbors in this community had taked her from door to door trying to find someone to care for her.
This family didn’t ask themselves all of the questions they might have asked as they tried to talk themselves out of doing something “crazy” like taking in another child when they already had so little for themselves. They responded to her need. They gave her a home.
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