Why It's Okay If You Have Weird Wiring--A Review of You're Already Amazing

Creative electrical wiring coursed through the walls of my childhood home. A number of light switches seemed to have been installed either upside down or backwards. My dad, who had no formal training as an electrician, was prone to tap into the house’s electrical system and add outlets now and then as the need arose. I’m sure the house would have given nightmares to any conscientious building safety inspector.

Within the church, I’ve met women who seem to struggle with their own weird wiring. They wonder if they fit in, or how they fit in, or whether or not they’ve got anything to offer within the body of Christ. For those wrestling with similar questions, Holley Gerth’s new book, You’re Already Amazing:  Embracing Who You Are, Becoming All God Created You to Be, offers good news. God had intention and purpose in creating you the way you are.

With warmth and humor, and demonstrating a love for God’s word, Gerth encourages women to make the most of who God designed them to be. Too often, I think, women within the church have made the mistake of equating humility with a denial of their God-given strengths and talents. Or they stand like the woman accused before Jesus and hear voices of condemnation, their own or those of trusted others saying, “You’re stupid. You’re ugly. You think God is going to use someone like you? You’ve really got nothing of significance to offer, have you?”

Drawing from her experience as a counselor, Gerth offers diagnostic tools to assist women in identifying their unique strengths, skills, and relational styles. One of my concerns, upon reading the title, was that the book’s emphasis would echo those of so many others shelved in self-improvement sections of bookstores. Surely contemporary culture sends enough messages that I should love myself and work toward building my self-esteem. I wasn’t sure I was interested in a book that was introspective and self-focused, when the gospel calls me to spend myself for Christ and his kingdom.

Gerth encourages women to listen to biblical truth rather than lies of hyped-up self-esteem or of unmerciful condemnation. Instead of being a self-indulgent exercise in introspection, Gerth’s book suggests:

If your intent is to love God, others, and yourself more, then knowing who you are is one of the most unselfish things you can do.

Gerth identifies another common area of struggle among women, one which keeps many from believing God has a purpose for their lives. She suggests that, too often, we compare ourselves with one another and believe we fall short; we’re not like the other women in the church. Gerth says it’s actually a good thing when one approaches life differently than those around her. She says,

If most people don’t do what you do, and you’re passionately pursuing Jesus with your life, then it’s probably not just a human plan. The heartbeat of God is probably somewhere within it. We need you, just you, to fulfill that purpose, complete that project, bring that gift to the world in a way no one else can.

While reading through Gerth’s book, I didn’t take the time to work through all the exercises. However, I believe the tools, questions, and study guide at the end of the book would provide meaningful context for discussion, either in small groups or within a mentoring relationship. I appreciated Gerth’s repeated recommendations to discuss, with a trusted friend, one’s responses to the book’s questions. In addition to Gerth’s recognition that God has created each of us as unique, she reminds her readers that we are not to live out our callings in isolation. Gerth emphasizes the value of community and relationship within the body of Christ.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I probably should make a confession. I have sort of a girl crush on Holley’s voice. It’s likely she could write just about any ridiculous nonsense in her sweet southern style, and I would eat her words up with a spoon.

The good news about this book is that it’s not ridiculous nonsense. You’re Already Amazing is a warm, thoughtful, and biblical means of encouraging women to accept their own weird wiring and pursue with joy the calling God has for their lives.

Disclosure: You’re Already Amazing is published by Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group, which provided a free copy for my review. The above opinion is my own. This post contains no affiliate links; I earn no compensation for any purchases of this book.

InCourage is featuring Holley’s book this month in a book club discussion beginning Monday, March 26. They are also hosting a giveaway at their site. Click the InCourage link for details.

Dancing Priest: A Review

Those who know me well know how much I detest exercise. The only way I am able to tolerate the daily climb onto my elliptical machine is if I can crank up some cheesy seventies music and open a good book. I am ever in search of a decent story to keep me distracted long enough to finish my workout.

I’m not interested in stories containing graphic and violent imagery that isn’t part of my everyday experience. Nor am I interested in what is typically offered in the name of Christian fiction; sweet tales of lost pets finding their way home on Christmas Eve after Grandpa finally gets saved. I just want to read a good story.

Dancing Priest by Glynn Young is a good story. And, trust me, in this story no lost pets come home on Christmas Eve.

Michael Kent, the central character in the book, is a university student in England preparing for ordination in the Anglican Church. He is also a bicyclist in training for the summer Olympics. He’s experienced loss in his life. He falls in love and likes Starbucks coffee.  In Michael Kent, Young has created a likeable character; one which seems real, the kind one might actually enjoy meeting in a Starbucks.

One of my favorite lines in the book is the question Michael asks after hearing of his assignment as a newly ordained priest. Michael asks, “By the way, archbishop, would the people at St. Anselm’s mind if I brought my bike?” Glynn Young has told a good story about an interesting, likeable and multi-dimensional man of faith.

Michael Kent’s faith is integral to his story, and I suppose some might decide to pass on a book containing strong Christian themes. I would encourage those readers to give Michael Kent a chance. Michael talks about his faith in a way which is both winsome and authentic. His character embodies what faithful Christian living might look like in the context of a young man navigating the world of career, calling, relationships, and a passion for biking. As a priest, and as a friend, he confronts the ugliness of brokenness and sin. His work dares to ask the question, “Can the gospel actually make a difference in the lives of those who bear deep wounds?”

Young, who among his other titles, serves as a contributing editor for The High Calling, an online network which encourages everyday conversations about life, work, and God. In Dancing Priest, Young offers a story which fleshes out ideas about the sacredness of all work.

I appreciated Young’s suggestion, in the words of one of his characters, that kingdom work doesn’t always take place in expected ways or places. Although Michael Kent’s desire is to serve in the African country of Malawi, it seems he might land a prestigious assignment within the church’s hierarchy. After learning the location of his first assignment, however, Michael’s archbishop offers him these words:

It will be better for you to be on the periphery than at the center because the center is rotting and collapsing. The future of the church is at the edges, and there you’ll find a willingness to abandon what’s dead, to meet the spiritual need . . .

That insight reminded me of the ministry of another, one who many expected to come and establish His kingdom by power and by force. He, instead, showed up and ministered to those in the fringes of society in backwater places like Bethlehem and Samaria.

There is only one thing I didn’t like about Dancing Priest, and it is this: After I finished the book, I realized I would have to wait until this summer to read the next in the series. How am I ever, until then, going to find the motivation to face my elliptical?

Dancing Priest is available in paperback and via download to Kindle.

A Playdate in Which I Don't Ski

Snow falls quietly outside my window at the ski resort where I sit with laptop, books, water bottle, paper, and pen. I’m not a skier so it makes no sense for me to take up space in a ski resort, except I need a place to stay while the beloved Swede has gone off to play.

He’s spending the day at a men’s only sporting clays shoot. The event is a fundraiser in support of campus ministry, but nobody’s fooling anybody. It’s an excuse for guys to spend the day outside with other guys, away from the office and blowing stuff up. It is playtime, and a chance for my man to spend time with the man who stood next to him on the day we said, “I do” to one another.

I’m playing, too, in my own way. Jim Brickman plays quietly in the background, through the magic of the internet and Pandora. I’ve got time to sleep and pray; to read and write. I just scribbled pages and pages of nonsense about coffee and Jell-O. Maybe I’ll turn my scribblings into something someday. Maybe I won’t. But I had fun remembering.

I’ve packed St. Andre cheese and some crackers.  I’ll nibble on those later while waiting for my daughter to come join me for dinner this evening. Tonight will be our first night alone together since the day she walked down the aisle and said, “I do.”

Today is a quiet playdate, the restful kind. I am reminded of days when, as I child, I stayed home from school because of a sore throat or the flu. I played quietly in my bed or on the sofa. I rested and slept and allowed myself to heal.

I sit watching the snow fall, tipping the edges of evergreens with frosty white. And I wonder why anybody would rather be out there skiing.

Linking with Laura @ The Wellspring, embracing the God-joy:

And with L.L. Barkat @ Seedlings in Stone for On, In, and Around Monday:

A Curiosity Journal

My friend Ann Kroeker posts a weekly curiosity journal to recap her week. She uses the tag words: reading, playing, learning, reacting, and writing to shape her posts. For some time I’ve thought about joining Ann, especially since my primary blogging strategy has been to find people who seem to know what they’re doing and then imitate them. Also, my writing well has felt a little dry lately. So here goes:

Reading

I’ve always been one of those people who is reading multiple books at the same time. Now that I have a Kindle and can download books at the push of a button, my habits seem to have gotten much worse.

After hearing many, many, many of my friends recommend Grace for the Good Girl: Letting Go of the Try-Hard Life, by Emily P. Freeman; I’ve finally gotten around to reading it. So far, the only thing I don’t like about this book is that Emily didn’t write it thirty years ago. I’m planning to write a review or maybe a series of posts about Emily’s book when I finish it. I’ve highlighted so many passages; however, I’ll probably end up re-reading the entire book when reviewing my notes. One particular passage I’m mulling is Emily’s reflection on the lives of Mary and Martha. She wrote:

Martha’s desire to please clouded her willingness to trust. . . . Given the choice to please God or to trust God, good girls become conflicted. We know we’re supposed to trust God, but trust is so intangible. It almost seems passive in the face of all there is to do.

Emily’s words read like she’s been living inside my head. Or my heart. Oh, and at the beginning of chapter twelve, Emily admits she never liked the phrase quiet time all that much. I think she really is a kindred spirit.

I’m also reading The Dancing Priest, a novel by Glynn Young. I postponed starting this one, again after reading many, many, many recommendations. Some folks said they started reading this book and couldn’t put it down it. I keep putting it down, savoring it. I’m thoroughly enjoying this story and don’t want it to come to an end.

I downloaded and started reading The Jesus Creed, by Scot McKnight. I kept seeing references to this book, and then I learned that McKnight is a professor at North Park University where my son goes to school. After I started reading The Jesus Creed, I saw a reference to it by Ann Voskamp. I figure, any day I’m on the same page as Ann Voskamp has got to be a good day.

Playing

Alumni Chapel. Photo by Tamara Gerhard

Most of the playing I’ve done lately, I’ve done vicariously. My son just returned to college after having been home for four weeks for Christmas break. During that time he played piano with some of his buddies during an alumni chapel at his former school, attended a New Year’s Eve swing dance party, went ice skating, attended a dinner party for which all the guests dressed up, and got together with former youth group members to play and record hymns and praise music. I sat back and watched these young people interact, delighting in each one and growing in gratitude for these friendships in my son's life.

I'm also thinking, maybe my writing well wouldn't feel so dry if I did some playing of my own.

Learning

I’m working my way through another book, an E-book by Sharon Hujik titled, How to Move From Blogger to WordPress. I’m learning, or threatening to learn, about all sorts of interesting things like File Transfer Protocols, DNS Servers, and CHMOD.

At one point the instructions read: “If you make a mistake here, you will lose access to your blog.”

If you notice my blog’s gone missing, assume I didn’t follow the instructions. Or have been raptured. Even if I destroy my blog, I figure I will have learned something. And I can always start over, right? I’m actually kind of jazzed about playing around with this stuff, and maybe engaging my brain in this way will help me fight off dementia somewhere down the road. Or maybe I’m just playing around with this technical stuff because right now it seems easier than writing.

I’ve been talking to some folks about helping me with some site design stuff. They’re good folks, and I hope I get to introduce you to them soon. I just need to earn a few more dollars first. In the meantime I may play around on my current site, rearranging the furniture a bit.

Reacting

It got cold and finally snowed for the first time since the freak storm back in October. I’m not reacting well. Also, my Christmas tree is still up. Don’t judge me. I don’t react well to the transition from the joy and beauty of Christmas to the cold and gray of January.

Writing

See above sections on playing and learning. Have I mentioned my well’s a little dry? Anyone interested in guest posting?

I know that writing helps me write, and I took a long break from doing so while my son was at home. I don't regret my decision to take time off, but I'm finding it awfully difficult to get back in the rhythm of writing.

So there you have it: my first ever Curiosity Journal. And a completed blog post.

Let me know your suggestions for when the writing well runs dry. Or your gears get rusty. Or whatever overworked metaphor for getting your butt back in the chair and starting over works for you. Maybe I’ll try some of them.

You know, if I don’t blow up my blog.

Drink

Delicate Arch, Arches National Park near Moab, Utah

A fundamental rule for hiking in America’s national parks is to leave no trace. In order to protect and preserve the park’s natural resources, hikers are advised to take only photos and leave behind only footprints. My family violated that rule, however, the year one of my children threw up all over Delicate Arch.

It seems this particular family member had neglected another fundamental rule listed in the park’s hiking guide: Be sure to take and drink water. A gallon per person per day is recommended; don't skimp, even on short trails.

Dehydration can set in when hiking in the desert, resulting in headaches and nausea before one even is even aware of feeling thirsty.  As a family, we’ve learned to carry an adequate supply of water and stop frequently to re-hydrate. Neglecting to drink can have serious consequences.

One of the projects listed in Tsh Oxenreider’s new e-book: One Bite at a Time: 52 Projects for Making Life Simpler is to drink more water. Tsh says, “We know we need to drink lots of water, but most of us still don’t. It’s probably not because we don’t have access to it—it’s either because we forget, or because we’d rather drink something else. Our bodies function fully when we’re hydrated, but we often run at less than full capacity.”

Images of water flow throughout the pages of Scripture. Sometimes water is in short supply, and sometimes God’s people forget to drink what is available to them. There seems to be a whole lot of drinking going on in Scripture; some of it good, some of it bad, and a whole lot of it pointing toward God’s abundant grace.

• When God sent plagues upon the enemies of His people, He made their water undrinkable. (Exodus 7)

• The people of God grumbled about not having water in the wilderness. Responding with mercy rather than judgment, God provided water, in abundance, from the rock. (Numbers 20)

• When fleeing from his enemy Saul, David longed to drink from the well of Bethlehem. (2 Samuel 23:15)

• God told the prophet Jeremiah that His people had committed two evils: They had forsaken Him, the fountain of living waters, and had carved out broken cisterns for themselves which couldn’t hold water. (Jeremiah 2:13)

• While in exile, God’s people had to pay for the water they drank. (Lamentations 5:4)

• Yet God continued to invite his thirsty people to return to Him and drink: “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat!” (Isaiah 55:1)

• Jesus said, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’”  (John 7:37, 38)

During some of my family’s hikes, we came close to running out of water before reaching our destination. It was frightening, feeling thirsty while not knowing how close we were to the nearest water source. Too often I think of God’s blessings as being scarce; mere trickles of water, barely enough to sustain me. I allow myself to wander, thirsty in the wilderness.

But God offers me more than mere trickles. He gave His people water in abundance from the rock, enough to satisfy not only their thirsts, but those of their livestock as well. This He gave to grumbling people through his servant Moses, even though he acted disobediently. Christ offers me living water, enough that rivers of it can overflow from my heart. I can drink this water deeply because Christ drank from the sponge soaked in vinegar (Matthew 27:48) and from the full cup of God’s wrath. (Matthew 26:39)

Christ drank the cup of God’s wrath and offers me, instead, the cup of His blessing.

This year, I’m thinking about taking Tsh up on her suggestion about drinking more water, and I hope to do so mindfully. I have access to water, and in abundance. I never need to worry about going thirsty. Each sip of clean, life-giving water provides an opportunity for me to consider what it means to drink deeply from the river of living water. I want to learn to function more fully in the life Christ offers and begin to cultivate a mindset of abundance, rather than scarcity.

In the year ahead I’m also hoping to be more mindful of those who don’t have access to clean water. According to Compassion International, every day over 4,000 children are dying of water-related diseases such as cholera and typhoid that are easily preventable. I’m hoping that in my year of drinking, I’ll be moved to gratitude for what I have, and to compassion for those who continue to thirst.

My word for 2012? Drink. This year, I’m planning to do some serious drinking. Care to join me?

How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
   The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
  They feast on the abundance of your house,
   and you give them drink from the river of your delights.
  For with you is the fountain of life;
   in your light do we see light.

Psalm 36:7-9

For more information about how you can help provide clean water for those in need:

Compassion International

Blood:Water Mission

(All Scripture references are taken from the ESV)

Linking with Bonnie @ Faith Barista:

And joining the community at One Word 365:

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year To Be Lucy and Ethel

Mama always says, "Don't wear your bedroom slippers to the shopping mall."

But Mama's wisdom doesn't necessarily apply during Christmas. Especially when you've got some brand new jingling elf slippers:

And you're on your way with Ethel to get your annual Santa picture taken:

But I'm getting ahead of myself. First we had to have lunch and exchange gifts. And nothing quite sets the tone for a Christmas gift exchange like a retro diner which serves 26-inch hotdogs:

Over the years, Ethel and I have adorned ourselves for our photos with some fairly ridiculous accessories: reindeer antlers, elf hats, feather boas. This year, after reading an ebook about practicing Advent, we decided to deck ourselves in purple. Yep, all day I was a long, cool, walking Advent pillar, and so was Ethel (although she's not nearly as long). All day we engaged in our own little secret Advent conspiracy.

Because writer Anne Lamott said, "You don't always have to chop with the sword of truth. Sometimes you can point with it, too."

So we walked around all day bearing witness to the Source of ridiculous joy. And the amazing thing we discovered was: Once you know what you're looking for, you start seeing evidence of it everywhere:

Ethel gave me the most fantastically amazing handmade gift of love:

She saw a picture in a catalog of a sweater beaded in peacock feather patterns and thought to herself, "I can do that." And so she did. God has gifted my friend with amazing creativity and mad art skills.

I gave Ethel ice cube molds in the shape of false teeth. Because I'm classy like that. And because I know that someday, when we live next door to one another in a nursing home, she's the kind who's always going to be stealing my teeth. And I look forward to growing old and ever more ridiculous with my friend.

Then she opened the elf slippers. And we were on our way:

We like to believe we add a little joy to Santa's life, making the season more merry and bright for everyone:

For it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a child himself.

Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Happy Advent and Merry Christmas from Lucy and Ethel!

Linking our Advent playdate with Laura @ The Wellspring:

And, even though this may not have been what she had in mind, with Charity @ Wide Open Spaces who is hosting an Advent community writing project for The High Calling:

Chesterton, Lucy, Ethel, and Santa: The story of how our tradition began

Discovering Advent: E-book by Mark D. Roberts

Why I Want More For Christmas

This Christmas, I want more.

I know. I’m a follower of Jesus. I should be focusing my attention on celebrating the season in a Christ-centered way. I see the ads on TV and in my mailbox, the blatant appeals to consumerism and greed. I read about Christmas shoppers trampling one another in an effort to snag this year’s hottest item for a few dollars less. In this country, we celebrate the birth of our Lord by exchanging animal print Snuggies ™ even as children across the globe cry out in hunger and in need of clean water.

So we talk in our churches and across the blogosphere about doing Christmas differently. We want to focus on those things that really matter—the shepherds, the angels; the story. We try to come up with fresh ways of communicating biblical truths to our children, attempting to dispel fairy tales and myths. We try to teach them, and ourselves, to squelch desire and want less.

But what if Christmas really is about wanting more?

I remember childhood longing, the desire for something better and new. When the glossy, new Christmas catalogs arrived from Penney’s and Sears, my siblings and I took turns poring over their pages. I circled and starred my favorite items, things I didn’t even know I wanted until I saw them on the pages of the Wish Books. I made a list, alternating my hopes and dreams on paper in red and green ink. I noted colors and sizes. I wanted a rock tumbler. A candle-making kit. An outfit that would make me look less dorky when I walked the halls of my junior high school. I remember Christmas as a magical time when I dared to dream big and believe I could have the things my heart desired. I imagined life could be better.

I didn’t know, back then, that my parents could afford few of the items on my list. Usually, by the time I posted it, my parents had already completed their shopping. I received few of the items from my lists. When I did unwrap a gift and find in my hands something from the shiny catalog pages I knew my parents had heard the cry of my heart, perhaps recognizing my desire to appear less dork-like among my classmates.

It didn’t take long, however, to realize that the gifts I had longed for failed to meet my expectations. The new outfit didn’t look nearly as good on my gangly teenage frame as it had on the model in the catalog. I learned that the rock tumbler would take weeks to polish my chunks of granite into smooth chunks of granite. The candle molds leaked when I poured melted paraffin into them, spilling hot bayberry-scented wax onto my mother’s kitchen counters, dripping it into the crack next to the stove. I’ll bet there’s still a pool of hardened wax between the stove and counter top in my old house.

Although the gifts I imagined would bring me joy failed to satisfy my deepest longings, I’m glad my parents didn’t tell me to stop hoping and dreaming. In his recently published e-book titled Discovering Advent, theologian Mark D. Roberts wrote of children and their hopes and expectations for Christmas. He said,

Rather than discouraging these hopes (which is a hopeless task!), I would urge parents to help their children get the “feel” of Advent by relating their hopes to biblical Advent themes.

I don’t want to stop hoping and dreaming, and I’m not sure it’s wise to teach children to do so. Perhaps instead we should recognize desire as a good thing, a holy restlessness for things to be better than they are. I’m not content believing that this life is as good as it gets. Maybe the problem with Christmas isn’t that we hope for too much; it’s that our hopes are too small.

Because what I really want is to live in a world where everyone I love is happy and healthy and whole. I want the entire family gathered around a table, where food and wine are abundant and good, and there is no tension or conflict. I want beauty and lights and music everywhere, and all the time. I want to live in a world where cancer, mental illness, addiction, and abuse don’t exist; where children don’t die of hunger or preventable disease and aren’t trafficked as slaves. I want to see organizations like Compassion International run out of children who need sponsors.

And I fully expect to get everything on my list.

Because all those stories about shepherds and angels remind me that God knows the deepest longings in the hearts of his people, and He keeps His promises. The birth of that baby fulfilled all the promises of the scriptures and the prophets. So when scripture tells me that the Joy of Every Longing Heart is going to return, and He is making all things new, I dare to hope for unimaginably big things.

Because I think wanting more is the most Christ-centered way of keeping Christmas of all.

So I will give and receive gifts this Christmas; some of which will satisfy hopes and dreams, however imperfectly. And I'll support the work of those who offer hope in the name of that Bethlehem baby. But rather than trim my wish list or pare down my expectations this Christmas, I’ll give full voice to my deepest longings and desires. Join me?

If someone asked what your deepest longings were for this Christmas, what would you say?

Joining emily:

 And Bonnie @ Faith Barista:

 

And wishing a happy birthday and hoping for big things for David, my Compassion child who turns five years old today! Click the link for more information about offering hope to a child through Compassion International.

Appointment With God

Come on in. Have a seat, he says. You’re late.

“I know,” I mumble, eyes bowed.

This isn’t the first time. And I notice you’ve missed several appointments lately. You do realize the importance of these meetings? I held high hopes for you; now I’m not so sure. I may have to withhold some of the benefits I intended to offer you.

“I’m sorry. I overslept. I’ll try harder. I promise.”

He says nothing. He’s heard my empty promises before.

Well let’s get to it then. Did you finish that reading I left for you?

“I meant to. Life got kind of hectic.”

Hmm. I assume you brought your list of action items?

“They’re here; though I’m sure I left out a few things.”

I lay my list before him, jabbering on about the merit of each item. I offer my take on each, suggesting possible next steps he might consider. I wait for a response.

Not bad, he says. Here’s what I can offer you. I can agree to numbers 2, 5, 7, and 8. I’ll give you healing from the head cold, allow you to find the pay stub you lost, grant you the job interview you wanted, and smooth things over with the woman from your church. But 3, 4, 6, and 8 don’t quite line up with my priorities. They don’t fit within my overarching vision. I’m not saying they’re completely off the table, but you need to rethink those requests and see if you can get them to line up more closely with my will. But don’t expect me to make this easy for you. Don’t expect me to outline my will in crayon for you, making it obvious. You’re going to have to do some digging and see if you can figure it out for yourself.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I say, tucking my list back inside my notebook; casting a glance at my watch.

You don’t really enjoy these meetings, do you?

“It’s not that. I just know I haven’t accomplished much lately. I’m sure you’re disappointed.  I’m afraid you’re going to be upset with me.”

Well that’s something you’ll have to work on then. I see our time’s up. Good meeting. See you tomorrow, same time. Don’t be late.

We shake hands.

For years I wrestled to commit to a consistent quiet time with God. I lived as though time with him followed an exchange similar to the one above. Lately I’ve been rethinking the whole idea of quiet time. I read through scripture and begin to question whether or not it’s actually a thing, one God requires of me.

This past year I read a book written by a woman who met God in the Yard. She wrote of delighting in his presence. She got me thinking that's what I want to do. I want to enjoy God. Maybe even glorify him.

Working on some material for a women's Sunday School class starting this week at my church. This is a piece of it.

Linking with L.L. Barkat who got me thinking:

Laura Boggess in her playdates series:

And with Michelle in her Hear It, Use It community: