My sentimental journey

An ordinary girl's walk with an extraordinary God.


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Tender Hearts & Thick Skins

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Janet and I were neighbors and all around best buddies, our closeness evident by the telltale photo of the matching outfits we sported on our grade school field trip to OMSI.  We completed our wardrobe down to the lucky rabbits foot dangling from our Levi belt loop’s.  Really, how lucky could that poor rabbit have been?  When I think of Janet my mind is flooded with happy memories and funny stories, they are like brilliant stars nestled in a night sky of gratefulness.  A treasured childhood friend to share silliness and secrets, whether walking to school, playing together, or during sleepovers; experiencing laughter till our sides hurt brought on by our countless goofy ways we could amuse ourselves.

One of our favorite games was playing Montgomery Wards catalog, in our day (which sounds incredibly old ) you could pick up and return your orders to the Mall 205 Ward’s store. During that age they relied on employee customer service and good old fashion handwritten files to keep track of it all. What fun it was to play after school, setting up shop downstairs on my parents covered pool table.  A toy pink phone for imaginary calls… check, a Ward’s catalog… check, files made up with fake names like Frank Frone… check, all the proper tools to ignite our wild imaginations. Why we never worked at Montgomery Ward’s when we got older I will never know. We had serious mad skills I tell you!

Some of our other memories were going door to door collecting money for the Christian Children’s Fund. One time, we chose to clean the handwritten graffiti from bathroom stalls during recess just for fun!  Each school week was occasionally mingled with some mischief… at times less than angelic.  Rounding out our Friday’s with our hit single we belted out our song, “We’re going home today, today, today!! ushering in our weekend.  It makes me giggle at the very thought of it.

One moment we walked to grade school as children, next thing you know we were catching the bus to Junior High with the first stroke of blush applied to our cheeks. Time flew by but the memories linger remaining a steady source of joy.  Recently,  while at the check stand I was gazing at the outrageous tabloids that slander and exploit people without grace or kindness. I wondered how does one being attacked handle such lies, falsehoods and slander without being able to tell their side of the story? A two sided coin only baring one side oblivious to the other side’s details.

We have all struggled with hurtful and untrue stories told that slammed against the walls of  our integrity. Casting suspicion on our foundation we hold so dear.  Sometimes, I am guilty of setting my eyes on only one side being represented, believing that to be the whole truth without hearing the other side.

As I wrestle with my own personal pain from untruthfulness spun against me, it presses me into seeking endurance for the injustices. Causing me to mumble this question to myself as I unloaded my shopping cart ”  How do they do it God?  I gently   heard the words “thick skin” rise up in my spirit, and the memories of how Janet and I had a pre-summer ritual.

Before summer arrived we would prepare our tender feet for the freedom of barefoot days by toughening them up.  Our solution: A “foot boot camp” without boots.  These tender feet that were previously cradled in warm socks and comfortable shoes, barely seeing the light of day, would be exposed not only to the sunlight but the dark hard asphalt and rough cement, going… “all natural”.  Quickly acclimating our tender soles to lessen the nuisance of feeling every poke and jab of the harsh ground beneath.  Thus, giving way to a foot loose and fancy free summer!

It made so much sense to me back then, and it so applicable to me now. My tender heart and thin skin feels every poke and jab of harshness and disapproval of others toward me, focusing my attention on my wounded soul.  Instead, I want to use these opportunities to develop a thick skin of grace foregoing being callous to their deep woundedness.  This allows me the freedom to enjoy the green pastures the Lord leads me to. His endless glory stretched out beneath my eager feet.  His glowing canopy of  approval and forgiveness gives me the strength to say, *1  “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”  *2  “Being able to throw open our doors to God and discover at that same moment that He has already thrown open his door to us. We find ourselves standing where we always hoped we might stand–out in the wide open spaces of God’s grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praises… with our Tender Hearts and Thick Skins.

1*  Luke 23:34 NIV

2*Romans 5 1:2 The Message Bible


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Brushstrokes of Transformation

Woman On Ladder Painting House

Our house was in dire need of painting, for one, heavy Oregon precipitation had left its’ calling card in the form of algae, firmly imbedding into the crevices of the cedar shake siding. Not wanting to show favorites, the algae blanketed the lower lying hardiplank boards on our 540 sq ft. addition. Unfortunately, unlike the inventive “folks” or should I say “volks” of Hamburg Germany, we were unable to harness the power of algae creating stunning architecture and a reliable energy source.Fearing power washing would harm the delicate 1940’s portion of the house it became apparent that a trip to the paint store was a necessary destination. Finally gathering the materials required for this much needed TLC. Over the years our humble abode had patiently waited as we grappled with finances, illness, loss, depression and grief. Internal storms battered the occupants, while the exterior suffered years of wear and tear.
Now paint brush in hand it dawned on us how much we dreaded this task even more now than 12yrs ago when we last painted the exterior. If our enthusiasm were to be described as a paint sheen we would be labeled as Flat! Relief from our dull and lackluster attitude came by conjuring up mental images of what our completed results would look like. Mindfully staying focused on the goal which felt oh so many gallons of paint away!
What we longed for would take muscle, grit and tenacity. Getting from point A to B usually requires work and it does not help that my painting skills rival Lucille Ball’s clumsy antics. By all accounts it appears that I have been cut from the same cloth; surely Lucy and I share a blood line.
However, if there is indeed no relational ties with Lucy, it goes without saying my mother and I cozily were two peas in a pod when it came to painting. Our expertise (cough, cough) being something to behold. She probably looked down from Heaven elbowing Jesus and proudly saying, “that’s my girl “. Whether it was watching me get my hair stuck in a rose bush, or dropping a paint tray on the one and only uncovered portion of our deck. Most likely, her loudest side splitting laughter came when I gave myself a wedgie not once but twice as my shorts got hooked on a Rhodie bush, while descending the ladder with a paint tray in hand. My only saving grace was behind the large Rhododendron as it somewhat shielded me with its’ prolific foliage. It’s the least it could do after giving me the two biggest whopper wedgies ever!
In the end… no pun intended, as the house stands gloriously completed and the last paint brush rinsed clean… I can almost hear Jesus and mom saying, “Yeap, that’s our girl” all with the familiar tone of love, acceptance and grace.
Transformations for the better… has the potential to get our knickers in a knot making us uncomfortable in the process. Whether it’s chipping away at pesky bad habits, sanding off rough edges of unforgiveness, or rerouting deeply imbedded wrong thinking. We can find ourselves needing to exercise spiritual muscles of discipline, and walking out tenacious faith with God energized perseverance.
Slowly we begin to see the beauty in the process, stepping from one form of glory into a new level of glory. Keeping our eyes on the prize while striking the match that ignites fires of change. Reminding ourselves that the end result will be worth the time and investment it took for radical transformation.
Thank you Lord, for your brushstrokes of mercy over our battered lives… as fresh starts, clean slates and forgiveness wash over our stains of deeply imbedded regret and shame. Thank you Heavenly Father that no matter what has happened in our lives your word has promised that Your love covers all transgressions. That is the best coverage of all!
“Love covers all transgression” Proverbs 10:12


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Feathering the Empty Nest

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It seems like only yesterday that Kevin and I filled  the air with excitement as we delightfully  prepared a room for the arrival of  our first-born son. Fueled with anticipation and joy, more animated than the Daisy Kingdom wallpaper that paraded around the walls of his soon to be nursery.  Light danced on the now glossy white crib positioned beneath the window, each intricate spindle sanded and painted,  a labor of love by my husband. Transforming the worn hand me down wood into a crisp, brilliant white. The closet brimmed with an assortment of  adorable clothes in a variety of styles, and sizes, for every season.  A handmade wooden Noah’s ark nestled in the far left corner, my thrift store find just days after the thrilling news “it’s a boy! “,  was confirmed by the ultrasound imaging.
While waiting for Derek’s birth you could either find me waddling around (did I just admit that?) adding feathers to our nest or propping my swollen feet up to read the latest How To parenting book. As each day drew nearer to the delivery date, so did my joy and optimism; confident my husband and I could do this thing called parenting.

Apparently there is no prerequisite to mastering this skill before you give birth to your first-born or even your second. For lo and behold two and half-years later we welcomed our second son Trent. Doubling our happiness and compounding the realization that books give you only limited training in the true art of being a parent.

Now twenty-two years and far too many mistakes later, we stand in awe at the honor of raising such wonderful sons in spite of our flaws and brokenness. Gloriously tallied into the raw equation is God’s grace equaling the sum that otherwise seems mathematically impossible.
And while the clock ticks away and within a few short hours, this stay at home mom and former homeschooler, will become an empty nester. No stranger to the knowledge of this incurring reality,  lingering in the far recesses of my mind ever since our boys entered this world. Aware of the fact  just as the appointed time led them to leave the womb, so also one day they would leave the nest.   A familiar quote by Reverend Henry Ward Beecher comes to mind, “There are two things we should give children, one is roots and the other one is wings.”  Today our son Trent takes flight, propelled by wings of independence gilded with freedom. Soaring to new exhilarating heights and rich depths, fulfilling all God has called him to be. Whether finding themselves aloft over mountain top successes or thrust down into canyons of failures, character and destiny still forging with every flap of their pinions.

Concluding this chapter in my life has gone all too quickly.  Now my heart waits for the dust of bittersweet memories to settle, and the echo of an empty room to begin to pulse with life once again.  Asking Papa Daddy’s (God’s) help transitioning into whatever He for me next as He re-feathers my nest with His promises.

I love Psalms 91:4 assuring truths:
“He will shelter you with his feathers; you will find safety under his wings. His faithfulness is like a shield or a protective wall”

Thank you Lord for your faithfulness, a love that is never-failing and generous compassion, even mindful of every sparrow that falls to the ground. Your attention to the smallest detail brings a reassuring peace. We stand awestruck gazing at your unfathomable love that comforts to the core and covers every human condition. We long to trust in you Papa, grounded in the roots you have given us while we soar victoriously with you providing the wind beneath our wings.

“But those who wait on the Lord
shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint.”  Isaiah 40:31

Hide me now
Under your wings
Cover me
Within your mighty hands
When the ocean rise and thunders roar
I will soar with you above the storm
Father you are King over the flood
I will be still and know you are God
Find rest my soul
In Christ alone
Know His power
In quietness and trust
When the ocean rise and thunders roar
I will soar with you above the storm
Father you are King over the flood
I will be still and know you are God

“Still” By HillSong


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The Royal Flush

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A month ago it was my turn to lead our Life group discussion on Kris Vallottons’s book the, “Supernatural Ways of Royalty.”  A fantastic read poignantly reminding us we are God’s royal Princesses and Princes.  Simple truths, reiterating who we are in Christ Jesus and walking it out with confident trust.  Since “The Royal Flush” was the title of  chapter 4, I thought it would be clever to play on the words using tools gleaned from a small group training last Fall.  So, what better way to start the evening off than an Ice Breaker using playing cards?  Four different suits, four different questions … having them  pick a card any card. Sharing the following based on which one they selected.

The Heart … What is on your heart?
The Spade… What do you want to cultivate in your life?
The Diamond… What is precious to you?
The Club … What do you want to work on getting rid of in your life?

Everyone selected a card  conveying their choice and what it meant to them.  After all had shared it was my turn to talk, revealing the Spade in my hand  declaring how I wanted to “cultivate” my faith. It sounded  spiritual and all grown up… someone who had put their Big Girl pants on. Having no idea the next two weeks would give ample opportunity to “Cultivate ” my faith.
Here’s the hand I was dealt, starting out with…

My husband loosing half a tooth  while eating his sandwich………… $167 after insurance.
Our family car died as we pulled  into United Battery’s parking lot to drop off our son’s old battery ………….$98.00 for a new battery.
Realizing our alternator was the main culprit…. “DOA” ………………….. $200.
Next, this same car did not pass DMV  and needed the EGR replaced  ………….$216.
Yep, you guessed it, our family car was on a roll… one tire was nearly flat and all 4 were balding ……..$599.
Mixing it up and changing gears, the old Lap Top computer kicked the bucket  ……..$229.
However, the piece  de resistance was the sewer pipe blowing its lid (unbeknownst to us) landing all our Royal Flushing smack dab onto the front yard; for only God knows for how long.  FYI… For those inquiring minds that wonder how we could not have noticed this,  we always enter and exit using our side door.  Temporary sewer fix….$160

Believe me, I’ve had way too much fun thinking about this last one. The thought of bubbling crude erupting like old faithful gushing out onto the yard.  Dingy white toilet paper clinging on for dear life draping  Mugho Pines and a nearby Candy Tuft.  Wondering what the dear postman thought as he whistled happily up the walkway delivering our mail, clueless to this now primitive sewage system.  Wishing at least we could have provided a sign warning, “Their She Blows” before he embarked up  to the mailbox so innocent and unaware.

Makes me wonder if  praying to cultivate my faith fell  along the  same  lines as praying  for patience.  Desiring a goal devoid of the pain, or the process of getting there.  More often than not, in order to develop patience it requires having difficulties to encounter.  For example, you pack for a balmy  trip to Cancun and are  greeted with the biting cold of Nome Alaska instead.

Perhaps my pageant answer was too cliche when it was my turn to share.  If I had truly thought through what it means to “Cultivate”,  another card would have been my choice. Webster’s dictionary defines  it: “to loosen and break up the soil, to improve by labor, care, or study”… adding  in unpleasant manure is usually part of the process.  Flowery words spoken dare not grow nor thrive without being planted in rich fertile soil.  What you practice is way more challenging  than merely preaching. Still, my heart  has a deep longing  to live with authentic faith.  Having well worn rubber meet life’s hard to travel roads.  Being mindful that there isn’t a day that goes by, that I haven’t fallen short and my faith tires have gone flat. Thankfully, God already knows, His countless promises remind me of that.

Psalms 73:26 says:  “My flesh and my heart fails: but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever.”

Feeling like doodoo has hit the fan?  Your desire is to press into the Lord but you can’t wade through all the manure of life.  Good News!  God is there with wading boots on, ready to pull you out of the muck and mire.  Your needs, well, God has them covered too; He provides daily manna from Heaven a rich storehouse of provision.

All the drains to our bank account  did increase my faith for when I cried uncle God showed  up.  Writing this story  I’m  conscious that many of you have far greater situations  to recover from.  May I encourage you, God is faithful and nothing comes as a surprise to Him. He knows when your toilet overflows, or if someone you love walks away. No matter how great or small, God sees it all and cares with a love that is outrageous.

Father God, thank you that you hold our times in your hands, all  our needs, hurts, and fears are safe in your redeeming grace filled hands. Hands that rock mercy, display forgiveness and reach out to us with tender compassion… a winning hand time after time.


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Sisterhood of the Travailing Plants

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While strolling with my friend through her enchanting cottage garden  I tried to stay focused on instructions  of how  to properly water her garden of Eden; while she was on vacation with her husband. Unfortunately, my visual senses were taking their own personal holiday. How could they not? Their property holds  breathtaking views of Oregon and Washington,  kicking my cell phone into digital roam, stunning pops of color displayed beautifully with annuals and garden ornaments. Whimsy and charm worthy of gracing the pages of Garden Gate magazine, made reining in my concentration difficult, rivaling  the enthusiasm of a  kid in a candy store.

We concluded our stroll poised underneath the house eaves gazing at a cleverly designed  rebar plant holder for three hanging baskets. The first basket a Fuschia plant was flourishing full of life and vibrant bloom, the second  basket’s plant was showing signs of distress; withered brown curled up leaves. The third plant was down for the count, the hanging basket removed from  the spotlight now placed on the ground, because the plants swirled up and died.

We discussed the dying plant as gardeners do, my friend saying she needed to take the second one down too, it was right then and there I shared with her one of my true confessions. Telling her there have been times when my beautiful hanging flower baskets have bitten the dust before their natural time to do so. Causing guilty feelings to arise within me, that I should’ve paid closer attention to their need.  This was poignantly displayed even greater when my mom’s illness escalated, her extra need care;  made my daily tasks more difficult to accomplish.

Wrapping up with this deeper confession… it was those times that whenever I happened to drive by a house and saw someone elses dying  flower basket, it brought a sigh of relief and an emotional connection.  Experiencing first hand the old saying, “misery loves company”.  After divulging my heart we gave each other the knuckle bump connection, the “New School” version of the original “High Five”.  In closing, this gracious and very compassionate friend choose to leave the second faltering basket up… to encourage other weary sisters that they are not alone. What a heart of gold !

C.S Lewis writes:

“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: “What! You too? I thought I was the only one.

In the movie the “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants” four best girlfriends pass around a pair of secondhand jeans that flatter their figures despite their very different measurements. Planning to stay connected during their separate journeys through summer, equally sharing  the opportunity to  wear “the traveling pants”.

No matter what our differences we all put our pants on one leg at a time. Once our feet hit the floor of life we stand on common ground when it comes to facing our own  struggles, suffering and sorrows that come in all shapes and sizes.

What a comfort to know we are not alone!  We can have the privilege of a close friendship with Jesus our precious Savior. Plus the added blessing of  God bringing friends  and family along our path to share our highest highs and  lowest of lows.

2 Corinthians 1:3-5 is both revealing and  comforting… receive God’s encouragement with His following words of love for you.

“All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us. We have plenty of hard times that come from following the Messiah, but no more so than the good times of his healing comfort—we get a full measure of that, too.”    The Message Bible
Thank you Lord that we are called your friend’s. May we walk this life with the full assurance of your outrageous love and friendship for us. Often times manifested  creatively through the love of friends, family and even strangers.  A perfect fit as we travel life in the well worn comfort of your grace.

Light is sown for the  righteous and strewn along their pathway, and joy for the upright in heart [the irrepressible joy which comes from consciousness of His favor and protection].

Psalm 97:11-12          Amplified Bible (AMP)

A friend loves at all times and a brother is born for a difficult time. Proverbs 17:17


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Bedazzled Friends

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True confessions .. I’m a bling girl, yes that’s right, admiring shinny, glittery, sparkling things just like a pack rat. Drawn to them like a moth attracted to a flame. Oohing and aahing their sparkle and gleam. No need for the real McCoy, let the imitations shine on!  What joy would be mine if I were to be the proud owner of a  BeDazzler, the official rhinestone setter of all things glitzy. I could “Be Dazzle” almost anything… my  dear friend owned one of these marvels,  however,lamentably was  cut short by her unamused husband hiding this man made wonder machine. Woefully being charged guilty of excessive bedazzlement. How could you not?  The ad lures you with the promise… “it’s easy, It’s fun and it’s fabulous” !  A Win, Win, and can we all say a rousing Win!

Recently, the Bedazzler has been on my mind, triggered by my friend Jen’s roller skating event at Oaks Park amusement center. My husband and I had the joy of watching her perform, all of us hoping that she would earn a spot to compete at Nationals. Oaks Park holds a special place in my heart , brimming with family history.  In 1948 the Vanport flood which caused the roller rink to be  submerged under water for 30 days.  Afterwards, it prompted the owners to rebuild the rink on pontoons.  They design was created to have a detachable floating wooden skate rink floor in case of flooding, of which  my grandfather helped build.

While in the 1950’s my mom and her sister Donna performed elaborate skating shows. Their photos still line the wall above the skate rental shop.

Gazing at these nostalgic pictures rekindled sweet memories of my mother and years gone by. While waiting for Jeni to skate we seized a few Kodak moments. Jen’s next routine would be to the music “Stomp” an upbeat lively number using drumsticks as her prop. Wearing an adorable outfit she  designed in true Bedazzlement fashion; the outfit dotted liberally with rhinestones. What a perfect addition to make her shine on the rink’s wooden floor… as if her performance and smile were not enough.

I’m brought to deep thoughts on the magical bedazzler, just as it  can add sparkle and life to an otherwise ordinary piece fabric, so to, deep spirited friends add  the sparkle we need to the fabric of our lives.

The dictionary’s description of bedazzled is to “impress forcefully, especially so to make oblivious to faults or shortcomings”. Heartfelt friends applaud your positive attributes  while  graciously loving you regardless of your faults and  shortcomings. Thus, giving you a desire to rise higher, empowering you to assess some personal areas that  need attention and growth. Your spirit embellished with love and jewels of grace, visibly glowing treasures from your divine friendship.

Biblically, stones have been known to represent truth, used as boundaries marked off by stones.  Also used as witnesses to God’s loving faithfulness when Jacob set up a pillar in  Gen. 28:22; 35:14.  Aaron’s priestly ephod and breastplate were bedazzled with precious stones, holy truths glistening God’s love, set in stone for his people.

HOW DO YOU TAKE YOUR LIFE FROM DULL TO DAZZLING?  Get to know the heart of God for  you.. reading His life giving words of love and through the lives of true, deep spirited friends. Captivating you with their ability to add sparkle and shine to your world.  If you don’t have friends like that yet, I pray that God will send you one as quickly as you can say… BeDazzle.

Lord, help me be a friend to others as I would like for myself. Thank you that friends are a gift from you and your word says: “when you give a gift you add no sorrow to it”.  We rejoice today in your love and the love of our friends whether from the past, present, or future.

“If instead of a gem, or even a flower, we should cast the gift of a loving thought into the heart of a friend, that would be giving as the angels give”.

George MacDonald

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Making Molehills Out Of Mountains

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Time was well overdue to remove the molehills that  popped up in our front yard nestling up against the curb. The desire to spruce up our flower beds before spring was now joined with increased  pressure to rescue my early blooming  crocuses now completely smothered in mole mania.  This pesky mole burrowing upward caused the crocuses delicate foliage to croak under the mountain of fresh tillage.

Rather hating to admit it, I was ever so slightly admiring this particular mole’s astute sense of focus.  Managing to erupt orderly mounts in unerring rows  while  tunneling through our sod. Somehow he was able to keenly and systematically dot neighboring property with the same impeccable streamline mastery.   Though I marveled that he was a gentleman of order, the mounding piles of dirt were still  a blight on our lawn.  It had been suggested  by a  friend that this was the work of more then one mole; if this was indeed  the case, their impressive team work scores a virtuoso 10. Whatever the scenario, it was nothing short of a  stellar performance. Earlier, I  momentarily reveled in their beauty when the heaps of soil were graced with a light dusting of snow.  These works of art resembled a miniature Rocky Mountain Range along our curb.  Finding this to be a rare occasion to acceptably make a snow covered mountain out of a molehill.

Shortly after removing the mounts of dirt it seemed to my joy and relief they had blazed a trail off into the sunset.  As you can tell by what you have read already, I’m nowhere near being mole savvy. By far, I lack the full knowledge of what these little critters are capable of doing. Let’s just say I greatly underestimated my opponent, this startling truth became painfully evident as I gazed upon my recent edged and weeded walkway. Gasping at what my eyes were beholding… a  fresh knoll of dirt burying my crocuses yet again!

Highly disappointed  that my one little patch of orderliness was no longer in order, wrestling an all to familiar lie that tidiness should magically stay tidy,well for at least 24 hours, right ?.  And when you cross it off your to do list it should stay done.  By now you would think  that my twenty one years of  being a stay at home,  raising and homeschooling our two boys, would have debunked this elephant size fib. Surely, I should have gotten that all too important memo. Truth is, in my heart of hearts. I know the  411. Life is messy and your 100% guaranteed “do overs”  are things like dishes, laundry and other assortment of daily chores.

A confessing slow learner by nature,  regretfully being revealed yet again  by my increased anxiety over this disheveled patch of a nearly perfect garden utopia.  When such emotional intensity flies into my radar it warrants further examination as to why I’m experiencing the growing tension.

Recently, I decided to discuss this dilemma with my dear friend Kelli over lunch.  She patiently listened as I dined away on my firecracker chicken. Hoping to grasp the truth of my underlying issue far better than my novice maneuvering of chopsticks.  My spirit was hopeful because when we seek God we find Him and the truth is revealed, as Kelli and I continued our conversation we were grateful for His faithfulness.  Without a doubt I’m sure He was perfectly content and thoroughly delighted to mingle in our laughter, tickled as we pondered Him, and was not distressed  one bit at my  raw  emotions. So grateful for  God given gift of authentic, deep spirited friendships. At that moment I caught  a glorious revelation exposed;  it was necessary to pull back further from my “tunnel vision” fitting for a mole.  Once again, God spoke His truth over a well worn path of  misconceptions.

Like the moles reappearance so had the flair up  my of irksome Achilles heels… one heel throbbing need  for perfection the other aching with the distortion of  destination rather than journey mentality. So rapid to appear, stirring up my spirit to become disquieted, my thoughts distorted and routed for dissatisfaction instead of  paths of peace that surpass all understanding.  All because  I chose to make mountains out of meager molehills.

I love what Zechariah 4:7 says

“For who are you, O great mountain [of human obstacles]? Before Zerubbabel you shall become a plain [a mere [a]molehill]! And he shall bring forth the finishing gable stone [of the new temple] with loud shouting of the people, crying, Grace, grace to it!

God  makes a molehill out of our mountains. Oh, how  I long to trust Him with mine.

Verse 6 chpt. 4 Zechariah says how we can achieve  this:

“Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit [of Whom the oil is a symbol], says the Lord of hosts.”
So, until I get the problematic mole(s) eradicated for good, I will choose to let those mounts of earth remind me that God’s turning my mountains of troubles  into mere molehills while saying His grace is sufficient.  This comforts my heart that I’m loved without performing or arriving, but  simply being  His daughter… the same holds true for everyone.

Do you  have a looming mountain of human obstacles in your way? May we move forward in God’s power and might  declaring His promise together saying … So big mountain,who do you think you are ? you’re nothing but a molehill!.
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