In all my life and in all I have learned, all the good, the trials, the storms, the lovely and the hard, I know one thing for certain and above all else…I must cling to Jesus.
I have to cling to Jesus.
To cling is to have a strong emotional attachment or dependence. To remain or linger as if resisting complete dissipation or dispersal.
Depend on Him. Linger in His presence.
If I don’t…If I let go even for an instant, I will dissipate. I’ll become less.
Purposeless, faithless, graceless, loveless, godless.
I have to cling.
Cling until my knuckles are white and my muscles are tense and Jesus becomes a part of my hold, my grasp, my fist.
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Today…I will smile, even if it doesn’t come naturally. I’ll look past the trouble and annoyances and find reason to smile.
A cheerful heart brings a smile to your face; a sad heart makes it hard to get through the day. Proverbs 15:13 MSG
Today…I will pay attention to those around me. Family, friends, someone I happen to see once…I’ll notice and see them. And I’ll share kindness.
Today…I will find the positives in my life…the good in the midst of the trials. And I’ll give thanks.
And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.
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“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” Philippians 4:6
“I love the Lord because He hears my prayers and answers them. Because He bends down and listens, I will pray as long as I breathe!” Psalm 116:1, 2 (Living Bible)
Can we talk for a minute?
You’re wearing that pain like a pair of old shoes. Worn low from love…they fit. But they aren’t comfortable. They pinch in odd places and won’t be back in style soon enough to warrant another year of space in an already full closet.
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My daughter and I have some favorite bedtime books. You Are My I Love You is at the top of the list.
In this sweet story, a loving parent tells her babe . . .
“I am your favorite book. You are my new lines.”
We are a military family, and slogging through this Army life, we get a practical re-write every two to four years. A new story, fresh plot lines . . .
But between the scrawling lines of new heart friends and the terse scribbles of unfinished chapters and sometimes unhappy endings . . . there is a deeper re-write in my soul.
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Every February it hits me. The mid-winter slump.
Maybe you call it cabin fever or the winter blahs.
Whatever you call it makes us feel the same: unmotivated, a bit down, sleepy and dreaming of spring.
When the slump hits, I start browsing websites for Florida, the Bahamas, Hawaii…I plan a winter vacation knowing full well that I will not be walking on warm beaches or attending a luau.
I’m not going to those places because as a nursing student it’s not in the monetary or time budget right now. But it’s nice to think I might someday.
And so winter drags on.
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The Widow at Zarepath
1 Kings 17:8-24
I love the song Trust and Obey. In difficult times the words of this song echo in my heart, “Trust and obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.” What does one do when one is at the end of one’s rope?
In 1 Kings 17, the famine in the land is great as we meet Elijah. The brook has dried up and the ravens have stopped feeding him. He is on the run as his life is being pursued by the wicked Queen Jezebel. God tells Elijah to travel to Zarepath.
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© 2007 Shimelle Laine, Flickr | CC-BY | via Wylio
I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with Valentine’s Day. Let’s face it: we buy up candy and cards and scour the internet for pin-worthy Valentine’s mailboxes because card companies tell us to. And for me, Valentine’s Day is never the greatest celebration of my husband’s and my love. The moments that resonate deep down in my core don’t have anything to do with candy hearts. Long talks. The bag of honeycrisp apples that weren’t on the grocery list but he brought home anyway. Fixing his favorite foods for supper instead of mine.
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And so we know and rely on the love God has for us… 1 John 3:16
I had finally poured myself into the welcoming comfort of my bed and was drifting off to sleep, satisfied after a long and tiring day of chores, to do’s and errands when he finally arrived.
He crouches low, to my level, seeing if I am awake. He’s got his hands behind his back and that gleam in his eyes I know well, and adore. I peek back at him with heavy lids, grateful he is home as we are being pelted by one in a series of snowstorms this winter season.
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