When God is Your Love Story

Sore Throats and Tomato Sauce Fingers 

Tuesday, January 31/2017

Mornings have never been my favorite part of the day--sometimes I even pray for God to help me get out of bed. After a disturbed night's sleep I awoke with a sore throat and an every stronger than normal urge to pull the covers over my head...but there were four little persons awaiting me with mouths to wipe, clothes to change, and backpacks to fill. 

I got up. 

Devotions done, clothes changed, a high-protein muffin inhaled (it was disgusting) and I was off to work. Somehow, whenever a day starts with an under-par breakfast the rest of the day is off. At work I was greeted by four smiling faces and four runny noses. Lovely. Following breakfast the two older girls trudged out in the snow for the bus with their dad; who popped his head back in the kitchen a few minutes later. 

"Was there a note about the eye doctor appointment?" he asked. 

No note. The calendar said the four-year-old was to visit the eye doc at 1:00pm. Nap time. Great. Thankfully, the children's grandmother was willing to come over and stay with the toddler while I took the little guy to his appointment. One nap on schedule. My gratitude to Oma is profound. 

All went well with the optometrist and we were back home shortly before 2:00pm, leaving about an hour for Mr. I'm-Not-Even-Tired to sleep soundly. 

Then the girls came home. School is a hard go for little people. Being polite and well behaved for seven hours is a long time and by the time they get off the bus they are done. Working for eight hours with a sore throat and headache is a tough go for me and I'm done. TV on. Supper cooking. TV off. Supper to eat. 

It has been a long day and I am drained. Feeling frustrated with grumpy, tired, children I start thinking about how I shouldn't be the one feeding them supper--I already fed them half their breakfast and lunch. I start thinking about how I just want to go home and eat my own supper and how I wish someone, somewhere, was thankful for what I did. I wish someone was thankful that my break was short because I had to take a child to his appointment (which I would have never scheduled at nap time), and I wish someone was thankful that I cleaned up the "accident" the toilet-training-toddler made on the couch, and I wish someone was thankful that I was dealing with the emotional upheaval the eight-year-old was going through. 

And then I feel something touch my arm. I look over to see small, tomato sauce covered fingers on my sweater and a little face smiling at me. "I love you a lot, Becca," says the highchair's prisoner. 

And there, through a two-and-a-half-year-old, God granted me the encouragement I needed. Probably no one in that family realizes what I do for them every day...but all those little people love me. And I know that I don't realize what God does for me every day...but I love Him. 

There are many shortcomings every day, and I regret that. Thankfully, there are many blessings from God every day too. And now, with the stars sparkling overhead again my throat is still sore, I am still tired, and I know I won't want to get out of bed tomorrow morning. But I can be thankful because the snow falling gently outside is so beautiful, my teacup is full of a rich brown brew, and God loves me. He has loved me though my heart has been irked and discontent. But how can I sin so when I have such a good, good, Father? A Father who has seen fit to remind me of His love through the mouth of a child. 

I am thankful. 

The Day when God was Not Good

Friday, July 29/2016

It was a horrible, really awful, no good day. I woke up debating if I should go to work due to the sick feeling in my stomach but I went anyway. Turns out I wasn't the only one fighting a flu bug because by 9:30am the two-year-old had thrown-up all over my shorts, the couch, blankets, and her sister. Bath time. Thankfully, their mother was working from home so after I bathed the sick baby I loaded half the children into the van and went back to my house to change. 

The day didn't get better. Everyone was tired and cranky and my physical condition did not improve. When I woke the three-and-a-half-year-old up from his nap he was holding his stomach and crying "oh Becca, my tummy is hurting me." We holed ourselves up on the couch with library books and a bucket, which he lost his lunch in about five minutes later. My boss sent me home so I wouldn't get sick. Too late. I thought.

Because I was done work early I took my car to get its Etest done (I should have done it a month ago). It didn't pass. Home I went, the day muggy and hot. I took off my shoes and in the living room I stepped on a small piece of glass (I guess we missed a piece when I broke a glass last week.) I sank onto the couch and stared at my bleeding foot. "God," I cried. "I don't know why life has to be so horrible. I can't take it today. Just let it end."

Yup. I prayed that. 

And I'm sure it hurt God's heart. In that moment I was not thankful for His goodness, I was not trusting His character and promises, I was putting myself in His place. It was sin. 

I repented the next morning. But before the morning, before I asked the Ruler Supreme to forgive me for hurting Him so badly by my words, emotions, and actions, He blessed me. He blessed me with a roommate who remained positive through it all, with a neighbour who willingly tried to get the glass out of my foot, and with the use of my pastor's pool (they're on vacation) to cool off. And in His wisdom He planned for me to be reading Be Still My Soul by Elizabeth Elliot.  

"God included the hardships in my life in His original plan. Nothing takes Him by surprise. Nothing is for nothing. His plan is to make me holy, and hardship is indispensable for that as long as I live in this hard old world. All I have to do is accept it." ~Elizabeth Elliot 

Accepting is the hard part because it is the only aspect we actually control. When God sends me trials do I accept them and thank Him for sculpting me to be more like Jesus? Now it is Friday and I can see the blessings of Monday. I was encouraged by speaking with my neighbour, yesterday I had an overwhelming sense of joy because no one was sick, and most importantly, I drew closer to my Redeemer because my sin made His grace so much brighter.  

An Answer in the Morning

Tuesday, July 12/2016

I live in Canada where, apposed to popular belief, in the summer you can step outside and immediately start sweating. Now, I'm much more of a bundle-up-in-sweaters-and-watch-the-snow-fall kind of girl than a lay-on-the-hot-sand-to-tan-at-the-beach kind of girl. I like it cool and crisp and ask for extra measures of patience when it get's above 30C. The past couple weeks it has been well above 30C and with the humidity it has felt more like 40C. Let's just say my ceiling fan and Popsicle tray got a work out.

Two weeks in on a Friday night I lay in bed, sweating like a pig with my floor fan blowing over me. 

"Lord," I prayed in the darkness. "It is really hot. Like really hot. I know that You made heat and everything you made is good but this sure is hard for me. I even get sick when I get too hot. Tomorrow I have to work where there's no AC. Please. Please send us some cooler weather. Please give my house a chance to cool down and give my body a break. Amen." 

In the middle of the night I woke up with a shiver and pulled my blanket over me while the fan continued to run. 

In the morning I woke up and my nose was actually cold. Cold. 

"Thank you Jesus!" I breathed, snuggling into the sheets. 

That night, after working a full day and helping with a church program at night I felt a bit overwhelmed and went to sit on the small hill behind my house to feel the breeze and watch the sunset and there, on that hill covered in yellow-grass, I praised God for answering my simple pray.

What amazes me is that God does not give us more than we can bare and He cares for us each individually. God did not need to answer my prayer in the affirmative; His will could have been to teach me more patience through the heat and His grace would have been equally powerful and His character equally unchanged. But He did decide to answer my prayer with a yes and I wore a sweater the entire day. This practical answer to my heart's longing comforts me. 

Today, with a headache pounding, children fighting and grumpy, and the heat back in full force, I had to take a deep breath to keep from screaming or crying or who knows what else. But in that deep breath God reminded me of the sweater-weather of Saturday and I was reminded that His grace is sufficient. 

A Week of Gracious Small Things 

Friday, March 4/2016

Snow can be crunchy stuff depending on the temperature. I actually enjoy snow a great deal; white and clean and pretty. There's some kind of magic to walking in gently falling snow and catching a flake on our tongue. Snow makes Christmas more enchanting and the indoors cozier with a book and cup of tea.

But I hate scraping it off my car and driveway.

My grandfather once told me hate is a strong word. I guess I don't thoroughly detest scraping snow...but I also don't enjoy it.

It had been a...well...a hard couple weeks. Sometimes ears receive information and it takes a while for the heart to catch up and sort everything out. By Wednesday I was heart tired and stomach hungry when I got home from work. Thankfully, it was not my week to cook and I looked forward to coming home to a warm meal (which really makes almost everything better) but when I arrived my roommate had also just gotten home, having worked all day, and supper was not even started.

And it had snowed.

"I was just debating about whether I should shovel the driveway or start supper," she said.

I plopped my stuff on the living room floor and made a quick decision. "You start supper. I'll shovel the driveway." Pulling on my mittens again I left the house with a heart that felt like it had been through a blender and hair that matched. Instead of providing a lonely mountain range on which to scream fallowed by a chocolate bar, God handed me a shovel and a snow covered driveway.

He, God that is, has a way of showing me things when it's just the two of us. I started with scraping the ice off the cement steps and worked down the driveway. Sometimes (okay, usually) I'm pretty stubborn about listening to whatever God is saying...especially when I'm hungry. So I got about halfway down the asphalt before I acknowledged what He was doing. Okay, You're right, I'm tired and grumpy and I didn't want to talk to anyone right away. So thank You for the opportunity to take a few minutes and collect myself. 

I kept plowing the snow into the lawn but God wasn't done yet.

And I'm sorry for my grumpy and thankless heart. Please help me not to be grumpy and short with the girls when I get inside. Please give me a miraculous measure of patience when I get in so I won't say things I'll regret. And help me to see the blessings... scrape, scrape... Thank You for the snow... scrape, scrape... I love You.

The amazing thing is that even though I did not want to shovel the snow God didn't not change the circumstance to make my heart happy. He changed my heart to find blessing in the circumstances. That's what He's done all week. On Thursday He blessed me with a night to myself, providing the quiet I needed and removing the temptation to say things I would regret after a particularly frustrating afternoon. Today He showered the outside world with bright sunshine and the inside world with multiple kisses and hugs from children I love.

My world is a world of crazy. Three-year-olds walk around with dinosaur garbage cans on their heads, yogurt get's eaten with fingers when I'm not looking, friends get busy and we can't have time together so my love-cup empties a bit, mornings happen every day and some how I'm still completely unprepared for them, and the driveway needs to be scraped.

My world is a world of crazy. God, in His grace, provides giggles from under the garbage can and grins from the yogurt covered face. He always has time to overflow my love-cup with His love. He is there every morning to remind me that life is good and having a reason to arise is a reason to rejoice.

He meets me in the driveway with a shovel and a gracious rebuke because He loves me. He fills every day with so much grace in the little things because He is good and this good-doing-God delights in blessing me.

Crazy.     


Overwhelmed 

Friday, October 30/2015

What is true and what I believe is true are sometimes two different things. God's word is always true and there is a reason He tells us to hide His words in our hearts. The reason listed is that we would not sin against Him and is not doubting His goodness sinning? 

It was a morning of tears. Not my tears. The children cried about everything. Going to the store, having suckers while we shopped, buckling seat belts, getting boots dirty at the park, sharing toys, using the toilet, eating lunch. Everything. And now, with them down for naps and the house quiet except for my piano music playing, there is time to feel and reflect. Even though I didn't shed any tears this morning it has still been overwhelming dealing with miserable children for hours. 

And when the soul is overwhelmed with one thing it is soft ground to be overwhelmed with something else. Overwhelmed with sad children, with a bad hair day, with feeling sorry for myself because today (just like my entire life so far) hasn't happened as planned. 

And then God reminds me that His grace is sufficient and His power is made perfect in weakness. He is here and He is constant and nothing in all creation overwhelms Him. Besides which, He has planned out this day for my sanctification and for the good of the children and for blessing. To reveal sin and make us all more like Him. God does not give us hardships to make us miserable. He gives us trials to make us more beautiful. 

Lies, Doubt, and a Gentle Answer

Sunday, May 24/2015

Weddings are beautiful, wonderful, amazing things. To think that Jesus should show us His love as a bride in white walks down the aisle, delight written upon her face thanks to one man's love that had already been written upon her heart. The groom stands at the front of the church with wonder and sometimes a tear in his eye. This picture of grace, gentleness, beauty, weakness, and trust is going to be his, forever. They join hands and everyone bows in prayer. 

It's beautiful. 

I had the pleasure of witnessing it twice this week. Two couples, four wonderful friends, two weddings, two families, two days of rejoicing. As the bride walked down the aisle my thoughts turn to heaven and I smile for my Groom. Someday I'll get to walk down the aisle with the rest of Your church, wearing Your righteousness, all in white, to join the marriage supper of the Lamb. 

But when the wedding is over, all is put back in place, and the happy couples depart to start their lives together I get back into my car and drive home. And it is here in the car that my thoughts start to turn. 

Sometimes God asks big things of me. Things I do not want to do. And it's easy in the hustle and bustle and joyful celebration to smile with all the other smiling people and pretend that all is as it should be. That there is no request from my Heavenly Husband Who has claim on my heart. That all is warm and nice and well and that surrender is easy. But it's not. My Heavenly Husband's request weighs on my heart and I have pushed it aside far to long and now, in the car with His praises singing from the CD player, I have nothing to hide behind but must face what He is asking me to do. 

And here is where Satan comes as an angle of light and whispers the age old lie "is God really good when He asks this of you?"

I try to push it away again and concentrate on the words of the song. But you cannot push out God's questions and Satan's questions, you must have one before you. Satan asks again, "is God really enough? Is your heavenly husband really all you need? He has left you alone. He has asked hard things of you. Why do what He says when He treats you so?" But God, rich in mercy, stays close to my heart and asks me again, Daughter I love, will you do this for me? 

I enter my driveway and park. With my head on the steering wheel and feeling stretched beyond what one finite creature can go I wait. Eyes closed. Heart open. My ever present question "what should I do?" has been answered even though I do not like the answer. "I will go for you Jesus, because You ask I will go." I whisper in the darkness. I get out of my car and enter my home. 

But the battle is not over. Satan continues to come and ask his awful questions, asking me to deny the goodness of God, making me question whether or not I am loved, and I lay in my bed, waiting for sleep, but knowing my heart is not resolved. I do not feel loved and while feelings are no reality themselves they play an important part in reality. 

My phone buzzes. 

"Becs you are loved. He who didn't spare his own son but gave him up for us all, how shall he not graciously through him give us all things?"

And God, in His great mercy, knows I need the reassurance of the friend on the other end of that text. He knows I need a promise, a promise that will never go away. 

"I'm sorry, Jesus, for doubting your love. And thank you for showing it to me again and again. I love you," I whisper in the darkness. I know I am forgiven. The doubts and worries and not wanting to still play in my heart. But He is faithful. Sleep captures me. And I rest in His grace. Tomorrow is another day.

Butterflies and Stars

Friday, May 1/2015

Butterflies. Their tiny wings an array of colours dancing in the air. Each one zigzagging in it's own particular pattern and yet never is there a mid-air collision. Blues, oranges, greens, browns, and purples mix as they land on plants and flowers, some with eyes painted on their wings and some with feathers or spots. I walk down the path, my nose filling with a sweet sent of flowers and fruit. The heat warms my arms and somehow reaches into my heart and I smile. God, they are all beautiful. Thank you. You did an amazing job when you made butterflies. So many different kinds just because you wanted to. You blow my mind. 

After collecting the kids we go to the park to burn off some steam before driving back home for Cambridge. Tag and swings and slides do the trick and even I'm tired from watching them. We load into the car and drive back, heads nodding off in the back seat while praise songs plays softly from the CD player that only works when the temperature is about 7 degrees. Once the children are safely back with their parents, dinner is eaten, and the work at church is done I drive home in the darkness. 

My car parked I step out and look at the stars. Stars. Those blinking lights that come out every night without fail. They look so tiny and yet we know they're actually huge. And there are millions of them, all smiling down on earth like watchful guardians of unsuspecting children who don't know they need care. The gentle breeze cools my face and I step out to lean against the wall, to take in the darkness, the stillness, the beauty, and wait. 

Something amazing happens to your heart when you stare up at something so utterly beyond everything you are and realize that the One who created that has a living relationship with you. "I love you, Jesus," I whisper. So many questions fill my mind about the future. "What do you want me to do?" I ask and stillness fills my heart because even though He doesn't give an answer He is there and that is enough. After a busy week there is relief in standing raw before the One who loves you more than any other ever can. There is no need to be polite or live up to expectations because He knows it all. 

"I love you, Jesus," I whisper again. 

Dance with me.

So, there in the darkness with the lights from heaven above and the gravel under my feet Jesus takes my hand and we dance and in the dance my entire heart is assured that no matter the business, no matter the stress, no matter the people or what they think, Jesus dearly loves me and will keep my heart safely tucked in His. 

Which is even more amazing than butterflies and stars combined, don't you think?

How It All Began

Sunday, April 19/2015

Sunshine streams through the open window, the birds' songs outside and instrumental music's inside blend in praise, and the wholegrain noodles simmer on the stove. Beauty. Beauty is a surrounding fact in this world we call ours but in reality God calls gift. Gifts. God holds blessings in His hand and yet sees fit to look down upon humanity and open His hand to share. We, the silly finite things that we are, grab the gift and run away without so much as a glance at the hand or a word of thanks and then pretend that we received it all in our own strength, shouting in pride. Or we take the gift and treat it as some kind of sham, looking into the hand of our neighbour and wishing we'd be dealt the same. 

I once heard someone refer to singleness as a curse and while I would never agree with my mouth at one time I would have agreed with my heart. Singleness. To be alone. Unloved. Not cherished. Forgotten. Less important. Less of a person. 

Why God?

And God, rich in mercy, answered. He did not answer with a loud booming voice or rebuke my wicked heart or even show me the verse "how can the clay say to the potter 'why have you made me this way?'"(Isaiah 29:16) No, God answered with Psalm 40:5 Many, Lord my God, are the wonders you have done, the things you planned for us. None can compare with you, were I to speak and tell of your deeds, they would be too many to declare.

And a still small voice in my heart whispers that these words are true. The things God has planned are more than can be told and they are wonderful. Who can compare with God? How can I complain when the Gift Giver offers Himself? 

Be still. 

Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10) 

And I sit. Still. The sunshine washing over my face, the breeze teasing my loose hair, and I wait. It doesn't come immediately. No, then there would be no point in the command to wait. My heart slows and my mind takes a breath and clears out the messy thoughts to make room. Still. And in the stillness I feel God. Not as a judge, not as a king, not as a master, not as the creator (though He is all those things) but as a Lover. And gently He folds me in His embrace through the sun and the wind and holds my heart very close and whispers "I will be the lover of your soul. I have wonderful plans for you. Trust me." 

How could I not trust the Giver? He who made me, sustains me, and gives me all things. He who walked on earth 33 years in order to show us the person of God and then died so that knowing this God we might have relationship with Him. 

Sometimes I doubt. Sometimes I wonder. But God, Who really is rich in mercy, delights to show me His love again and again. In the child who says "you're beautiful", in the songs that come over the radio, in my mother's texts, in a hug from a friend, in a sermon about Jesus, and in quiet time when I so often fail and yet He always meets with me. And in it all He showers out His grace, opening wide His hand to share blessings. All too often I take them and run without so much as a thanks. In my heart I stress about the things of this world (money, marriage, opinions of others, for they all of this world and will not come with to heaven) and I take them to His throne, unsure of tomorrow. And God gives me a gentle smile and says "I am the lover of your soul. Trust me. You need only be still."