“In the beginning, God created….” Genesis 1:1
In school, creative arts are often listed as ‘electives;’ in our adult life, they’re called ‘hobbies.’ Yet the very first thing we learn about the nature of God is that He’s creative.
I never considered myself particularly “creative.” In my mind, that word was always equal to “artistic,” and because I couldn’t paint or draw I figured it didn’t apply to me.
Looking back though, I see a creative thread that’s run through my life–it just didn’t meet my narrow definition of the word.
My mom started teaching us cooking basics when were in elementary school.
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It was the bottom of the last inning, in what had become a very competitive matchup between two girls’ youth softball teams. The score was tied six to six. It was our opponent’s turn to bat. If they scored, our team would inevitably lose the game. If not, we had another opportunity to hit, which meant the chance to win our very first game.
Their first player hit the ball and got a base hit. Their second batter came up to bat. She hit a long ball which made its way to the outfield. One of our players ran after the ball, picked it up and ran toward the infield.
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This is a post I wrote for Counting My Blessings about a year and a half ago. I thought it might be worth sharing with you here at 5Min.
I began my morning by reading Psalm 117 and 119 as God had led me to set my thoughts on the center of His Word.
Psalm 117 is the shortest chapter in the Bible, and Psalm 119 the longest.
Look with me for a moment at the words of Psalm 117:
Praise the Lord, all you nations;
extol Him, all you peoples.
For great is His love toward us,
and the faithfulness of the LORD endures forever.
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I often spend time reflecting on my role as a mother. Especially on Mother’s Day, I like to know that I am doing a good job. As a woman who wears many hats, including working a full-time job, I often feel inadequate. I admit that I compare myself to other moms who appear to have it all together. I have tried to be the best mom that I know how to be. I fall short. I am not perfect. I need much improvement.
I get angry at my kids. I lose my temper and I hurt their feelings. It isn’t any surprise to me then when my children do the same with one another.
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“You have such an incredible forehead.”
I smiled at the peculiar statement. The woman applying my make-up for a high school play continued to gush about the smoothness of my forehead. Thanking her, I explained my skin had not always been the “perfect canvas” she was praising. Strong medication had been the key to calming down a complexion once overrun by acne.
Still pleased with actually getting a compliment on my skin, I told my mother and my grandmother all about the forehead conversation. I admit I was more than a little surprised when my grandmother scolded me. She felt I should have taken the compliment and that I most certainly should not have confessed my lovely complexion was thanks to medication.
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I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety. Psalm 4:8
Lack of sleep can endanger lives. I listened to the news report and let out a laugh. The story was about new attempts to shorten the hours doctors work in their first year of residency. Instead of twenty-four hour shifts, it was suggested that newbies should only have to work sixteen. I tried to count the hours of sleep I’d had the night before, but didn’t have the mental capacity.
Grace is my third child, but I still struggle with lack of sleep.
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These two dear friends were such good sports! At our Women’s Retreat several years ago, they were recruited to allow their makeup to be put on from behind. The girls applying their makeup could only use touch to decide where to place eye shadow, blush, and lipstick. A little crowd reaction may have guided them as well, but as you can see we weren’t much help!
I’ve been wondering, do we put on our “face” to cover up what’s going on inside? We think if we make the outside look perfect no one will notice the junk on the inside. We are afraid that others will judge us, criticize us, or reject us so we try our best to hide our hearts.
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It was a warm sunny day and my two younger children were playing outside. I was just getting ready to sit down with a glass of Iced tea and a good book when my 10 year old daughter came in screaming. I immediately ran to her side to see what had happened. She told me there was a big splinter in her finger. I tried to look, but she wouldn’t let me. I wanted to hold her, but she didn’t want me near her. She turned and ran into the other room. I wanted to see if I could pull the splinter out, but she yelled at me to go away.
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