The lyrics to this song spoke to me this weekend. I know this never happens to you, but I was aching for praise. Just wishing for a few words of affirmation. And I began to think that if nobody cares enough to say something, I might just quit. Even though I love what I do.
Enter this song and these words and a rush of God-speak to my heart.
Riches I heed not nor man’s empty praise
Thou mine inheritance now and always
God’s praise is not empty. It goes beyond a mere complement to the even greater realm of forever rewards.
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Tonight as I was preparing to start a load of laundry (the never-ending saga), our power went out. Although we only lost power for a few moments, I was reminded of a night a couple of years ago when we experienced a power outage that lasted for over an hour.
Whenever the power would go out in previous years, my children would tend to get fearful. They didn’t like that they could not see, and would always scramble around looking for flash lights. But since it was not yet completely dark outside on this particular night, they were able to see enough to find their way around.
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He says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10a NIV
Sometimes I just don’t hear Him. I know He’s there. But for reasons unknown to me, He’s choosing to remain silent.
I wonder if I’ve done something.
I wonder if He’s testing me.
And…I wonder if, for now, the silence is okay.
Maybe there’s nothing more to it than knowing God is always with me, even when I don’t hear Him and can’t feel Him.
I keep talking to Him and spending time in His Word, and I know He hears me.
Maybe I’m like a child who learns to trust her mom is there when she calls to her.
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Written on
November 11, 2012 by
Dawn in
Blog
There I am watching from a distance.
I’m watching myself as a stranger.
I am like one who seems aloof. Distracted.
I’ve done my list today.
The dishes have been done, bed made, laundry washed, dried and folded.
Phone calls and e-mails have been returned.
I’ve done all of the things that needed to get done this day.
I am sitting with my family at the dinner table.
My dear husband is serving me a portion of the dish he has made for us.
I look around the table.
I realize I have been watching myself all day but not fully aware.
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“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds,
Because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.
Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete,
not lacking anything.”
James 1:2-4
My then boyfriend (now husband) looked over at me with a grin as we drove the deposit from the retail store we worked at to the bank. I am sure a girly giggle escaped my lips as he said to me, “We have two hundred dollars in cash right here. Let’s run away to Mexico.” Not that two hundred would have gotten us far.
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“I miss the Food Network,” I tell her over tea and pastries. Her eyes turn bright while her shoulders square up for conversation. And she asks me excitedly which shows I miss most.
My answer surprised even me. Because I don’t remember scheduling my days around them or talking to my best of friends about them.
What I do know is I haven’t forgotten what they taught me.
Take Alton Brown for example. Now, he can show me how to ensure the best hard-boiled egg every time.
A lot of people can do that, yes.
But he tells me why.
And if you tell me why and show me how, it clicks with me.
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I’ve been battling voices in my head lately. Not the audible kind. But the ones that tuck themselves away beneath the gaps in my heart. They like to come out and share their opinions of me when I am weary, or when I’ve let my guard down. These voices come with words that are not intended to build up, but to tear down and destroy the very foundation that I’ve worked hard to build.
These words tell me that,
I am not good enough.
I am not strong enough.
I am not loved enough.
I’ve been tired. I hit a wall and have been zapped of strength.
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“You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” Psalm 56:8
I tiptoe into to my daughter’s room to check if she’s asleep. It’s been a busy week and she’s had a lot on her plate.
Quietly, I stand next to her bed and look at her–my little girl, asleep, her head resting sideways on her pillow.
My little girl who is not so little anymore.
Slowly, silently, I sit on the edge of her bed and look around her room—at the pictures of her friends on her dresser, at the plaque on her wall that says Chase Your Dreams, at the pile of books on her desk.
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