Thursday, December 2, 2010

Danny & Monica: A Mother's Story


By the tone of the conversation, and the sound of a pen being thrown across the room, I could tell something was not going well. It became very clear, even from where I sat downstairs watching some program that I've long forgotten, that Danny was breaking up with Monica. He had left for a yearlong Gospel for Asia internship just months before amidst tears, and hugs, and vows of love. So my first thought was, "How could this be?" Not that, as parents, we weren't glad for that year of "space" from one another. She was now almost 17 and he, 19. But I never saw this coming. “Lord, what are You doing?" As I sat there praying over both of them, and already beginning to ache for Monica, I heard so plainly, "Trust Me." And as my thoughts continued to whirl and the one side of the conversation that I could hear escalated, I heard again, "Trust Me." This was my sweet daughter who never gave her heart quickly...and who had never given her heart to any young man before. I knew this was going to be devastating. And so began a very painful year...

I remember the night at youth group that I first saw them together. Monica, then 15, was having a hard time after the study was done and had gone outside and walked to the end of the building. As all the kids were milling around, I went out to check on her and saw Danny walking over. I don't know why, but my first thought was, "Oh, good. Danny is awesome. She'll be ok talking to Danny." You see, for a very brief time Danny and our other daughter, Jillian, had hung out, and though I liked him quite well I could never "see" them together. But for some reason, just seeing him with Monica looked right. Their conversation that night led to many others. Both of them being talkers and deep thinkers, their friendship bloomed into much more. (That is the short version.) By the time Danny left for GFA the next summer, they were quite smitten and very committed to continue their relationship while he was away.

And so, we come to that fateful night in November….In time it became silent upstairs and I made my way up. As Monica, still in disbelief and shock, haltingly poured out chunks of their conversation, I listened and prayed silently. I knew only two things: the Lord's words, "Trust Me" and that somehow I needed to help Monica navigate this hurt so that bitterness would not ruin her heart. We talked over many things, and I remember challenging her. "If you really love him, what does it look like to love him now? When there’s nothing in it for you? Do you only love him if you can have him, or do you want the best for him no matter what that looks like?" I shared with her what the Lord had told me – to trust Him. She shared that He had told her, "Submit." And so we talked and prayed about these things, in one form or other, for over year. And she prayed that her feelings for Danny would die if he were not the "one" the Lord had for her.

There were a few conversations between them here and there that year, but nothing that gave any hope, even when she saw him at his sister’s graduation in June. Then the longed for, and dreaded, time arrived. July 2009. He was coming home from Texas. It had been so much easier for her to deal with it all, or to sweep it under the rug, when he wasn't here. But the first time she saw him she grudgingly said, "Oh mom. I still love him." Yikes! Ok, here we go...

What's crazy throughout all this is that there were so many people secretly rooting for them. We all wanted what the Lord wanted, but "they" just made sense to so many of us. A lot of prayers went up on their behalf. Yet it was a perplexing time for me. It was not my place to encourage her to hang on to hope, even though I still thought they would be together one day. So what do I say? How do I counsel her without manipulating anything? I knew that first and foremost she needed to grow in her relationship with God. No matter what happened this was essential. I needed the Lord's wisdom so much and to hang on to what He had said – trust Me. I prayed a lot and knew I just had to wait and encourage her to continue to surrender everything - always easier said than done.

Crazy thing number two: Years before they ever dated, the Lord had called me to begin praying for Danny. It was Winter Camp 2004. I knew him only as the new kid…Danny…Zander’s friend.  But one evening after a chapel time I saw him stay behind to pray and sensed the Lord was calling him. So I began praying. As it turns out, that is the weekend he asked the Lord into his life. Then, perhaps a year later, I saw him serving as an usher. It really warmed my heart that he seemed to be growing and serving. The Lord told me very clearly, "I have a call on his life. Pray for him." And so I began praying for Danny Porter. Well, the Lord didn't free me from this call - even after Danny broke my daughter's heart. And He told me I was to show Danny grace. Grace… So I continued to pray for him and send him scriptures or words of encouragement as the Lord laid him on my heart, all the while having to periodically wrestle down my own anger and disappointment (i.e. wanting to tell him off big time, or maybe even let older "sister" Jessica beat him up like she wanted to). But I knew what the Lord commanded, and bitterness could have no place. So despite it all, I willingly obeyed. The reality was that, by then, I loved Danny like a son. I did want the Lord's best for him. And if that didn't include Monica, I had no right to hang on to that either.

Now back to Danny's return: After some stilted conversations here and there, the two of them fell back into an easy friendship sometime in the fall. No more awkwardness. By Christmas-time, he was hanging out with our family off and on. We always loved having him around and it was fun to enjoy great conversations, laughter and times of prayer together. I was beginning to hope. Monica was daring to wonder. Nothing was said. It was just great that they were friends again.

Fast forward to late winter when honesty arose: To their mutual surprise, yes, they did still care for one another. But there would be no move beyond friendship till Monica graduated. And so, for many months, they waited. Her graduation day was June 5th. A week and a day later, at the church on that patch of sidewalk at the end of the building where they had first talked three years before, Danny asked Monica to be his girlfriend. This was courting, not dating. They both felt that the Lord had brought them together again not just to try things out, but with the intention of marriage sometime in the future. And, frankly, from my point of view, there could be no playing with her heart. It had to be real, or it had to be nothing.

So now what started as a friendship over three years ago has turned to a much greater commitment. The months of courting have ended. Having received Ty’s blessing, Danny asked Monica to marry him on November 13th, at Finch Arboretum, on her birthday and their five-month anniversary. After a brief moment of disbelief, she said yes. He had totally surprised her, which is no small feat. (Again, this is the short version.)

It’s funny that though I did know the proposal was coming, there is something that goes on in the head and heart of a mom when you first hear, “We’re engaged!” It was definitely a deep emotional response, one that I didn’t get much time to process. Since Danny had to return to work for the afternoon, Monica, her cousin Amanda, and I ended up taking a fun birthday shopping trip soon after I was told the joyful news. Well, I kept forgetting which way to go, definitely took some wrong turns, and drove us by way of the proverbial scenic route. Thank goodness they were patient and just kept laughing at me. I probably should not have been driving that day. There was so much on my mind. I found myself looking back on all of the twists and turns of the past few years. Years that also included both Monica’s brother and sister, Trent and Jillian, getting married, a surprise “we’re pregnant” announcement from Jake and Jill just before Christmas last year, Monica’s graduation from high school and the community college, Jillian living with us last summer – pregnant and on bed rest, the birth of our beautiful grand daughter, and helping their little family finally get settled in far off Florida. It has been quite an emotional and spiritual journey for this mom.

It has also been quite a journey for Danny and Monica, one that did require trust and submission. Honestly, I am glad that their path included struggle. It has matured them. I believe that, though very painful, it was His will for them to be apart for a time. And remember the Lord's instruction to me on behalf of Danny after the break up? He had said to show him grace. How awesome it was for me to discover that one of the most significant things Danny learned during his year away was grace. That he lacked it for others, that he needed it, that the Lord was all of grace. They have both learned so much in these past two years since their breakup – about themselves and the Lord.  In their hearts, they are not just kids in love. Life and struggle have brought a different perspective…and new challenges. But that is the way of this life. It is the Lord’s way. In the end He works it all for good for those who love Him.

And the spirit of my question on the night of their break up still stands. “What does it look like to love him now? What will it look like to love her then?” Those we commit to love will bring us great joy, but they will also bring sorrow, disappointment, and heartache. It is the risk of loving. Will we look to God and remain committed to the best for the other person or will it always be about us and our immediate happiness? Will we give ourselves permission to harbor anger and bitterness? There is no place for that in any relationship. True love has to go beyond pleasing ourselves. True love is sacrifice, and we never know how that will look in our marriages. What will this kind of love require? How many times will we need to forgive? How long, Lord, will it take to heal my heart, or his issue? So it is good to begin learning early the lessons of selfless love. Even if there had been no happy ending here, both Danny and Monica would have been called to forgive, to love one another as brother and sister, and to continue to trust the Lord.

But today we do get to celebrate this joyful, new engagement. With all that has happened in our family, and with Danny and Monica, I do like this happy ending - which is really just a new beginning. And with this new beginning, I will continue to do what mothers do. I will pray for the riches of God’s grace to fill their lives with all that is needful, now and always. And I will be thankful for the addition of a new son. You see, I always wanted six kids. Now six it shall be, and I only had to raise three. I have teased my kids throughout the years about arranging their marriages. As it turned out, I never needed to. God chose well for all of them. He can be trusted.


Sunday, September 12, 2010

Tears


I am fighting a losing battle with tears this morning. It's hard to put on your makeup when your eyes are leaking. Not that I want to hide the tears, but I would like to at least dim the dark circles that I've had since childhood. These days it's hard to fathom the origin of my tears. They are such a mixed bag of joy, sorrow, awe, and, well, hormones. Today they come from a very deep place and I choose to let them fall, even as I write. Good thing I have not yet attempted my mascara.

To be alive is a wondrous thing. It is both wonderful, at times, and keeps us wondering at others. The Lord says through His servant David that we are "fearfully and wonderfully" made. That the maker of all things has known us before all time and knit us together uniquely and intimately - for a divine purpose. I like divine purposes because they stand when everything else seems to be falling apart, or at least just listing from side to side precariously. And I have learned to love being alive - in Him, by Him, for Him - through all kinds of weather.

Today, the weather calls for precipitation upon my cheeks. Well, let it rain. As I prepare to part from my precious daughter, son-in-law, and new granddaughter, I am filled with mixed emotions. I reflect back on the paths of life and the divine hand that wove them each into my heart. And I am thankful that I love them each so deeply that the tears spring forth. I would rather love deeply and hurt than never love at all. Love is one of those things that is the richest when we just run headlong into it; touches us most profoundly when we abandon ourselves to it wholeheartedly. And so, today, my whole heart rejoices and aches all at the same time.

From the day that my eyes first fell upon my beautiful Jillian, to the day that I met Jake at the coffee bar (not knowing that this fun young man would one day be my son), to the challenging & wondrous day of Cadence's birth, to now, the Lord has been weaving His marvelous plan. Amidst the fun of raising a daughter, the sleepless nights - due to illness or just crying out to God for wisdom, protection, direction - the anguish of sharing her sorrows, the joy of laughing at her silliness, His hand was always there. Through the uncertainty of "letting her go" into womanhood, I knew I could trust my God. How could I not let her go to become all that He had planned? It is a gift to let your children go. A wonderful gift to them. I still pray for the grace to do it well.

And so, I prepare for a new kind of letting go. The kind that means we'll be far from one another. I love this little family. I love the tenderness of Jake with Jillian as she weathers the changing emotions of new motherhood. I love his joy at the sight of his daughter and the way he talks to her, sings to her, and kisses her whole face. I love my daughter who is beautiful in her own right, and is now experiencing the seasoning of being a wife and mother. And I love my sweet Cadence as fiercely as I ever loved one of my own children. She is burned into my heart alongside Trent, Jillian, and Monica. My child's child. She is a wondrous mystery of potential. Her personality is already hinted at, her life's journey yet to be known. But she is well loved. And in a few days I will say goodbye and begin a relationship with them that does not rely on proximity, but on the oneness that we share as family, as those who love, in Christ. And He is good. He is all and everywhere. He will be close to them when I cannot be, and that is a far better thing. It is a wonderful thing. So, instead of fighting it, I will dance in the rain of these tears and surrender, once again, to His divine plan. Thank you, Jesus, for tears and for holding my heart today and always.



Tuesday, August 17, 2010

On Being a Little Girl


Oh, the wonder of little girls! Running, skipping, twirling with abandon. Arms outstretched. Hearts outstretched. Nothing closed, or cynical, or hard about them. How I love little girls! They giggle, they squeal, they love lavishly - without restraint. Their smiles, stories, and antics say, "Take my hand. I will show you how to play. How to laugh. How to find delight in the silliest of things." Though they know so little of the world, their world is so much larger and full of possiblility than those of us who claim to be grown up. Have you ever allowed yourself to be drawn into the world of a little girl?

How much their simple joy speaks of the profound. Open arms, open hearts, loving lavishly. This is the life we can re-capture as children of God. A life of abandon to the One who cares for us intimately...and always. We are so loved, so held tight, that we can be free to love lavishly and not worry for the world's reaction. Because we're safe, we can be free. Free to receive all that grace has to offer. Free to lavish grace, love, mercy, forgiveness upon others, for we have an endless Supplier of these gifts. Free to live a life of childlike faith, because "nothing is impossible with God." Does this mean that there is never pain, disappointment, heartache? We all know there is. Even little girls know this. But they also know where to run when they're afraid, need a hug, or a bandage. They don't give it a second thought. They run to whomever they have put their trust in. To those who have nutured them faithfully. They know that even though the "owie" still hurts, there are strong arms to hold them and reassure them everything will be ok...in the end.

And, we, who are the nurturers of such precious little ones are well aware that some "owies" don't get better right away. Some pain will have to be endured. Some things will strike them unaware - and be so unfair. But we also know that we will hold them throughout the midnight roar of thunder and lightning, if that's what it takes. We will lay with them and pray over them as they suffer through that bout of pain or fever. Have you ever laid your hands upon your suffering child and prayed that God would take the pain from them and give it to you instead? I have...so many times. These are the very things that Jesus does for us. He may not calm the storm, but He holds us. No matter the pain of body, heart, or soul, He "never leaves us nor forsakes us." And because we had no way to cure the "sickness" of sin in our lives, He took it upon HImself. All that wrath poured upon Him so that we could be healed and know peace.

So in the midst of this world that taunts like a school yard bully, we can know that we need not fear. "Our God is greater, our God is stronger, our God is higher than any other..." And when I joyfully watch little girls at play and little girls at rest, I will always pause mid-delight and be challenged to keep this same childlikeness. It is not the same as childishness. That would be foolish. But childlike faith is our calling in Christ. It trusts implicitly in the One who is eternally trustworthy. It is so possible if we embrace all that He is and all that He has accomplished for us. In the full power of God, Christ lives in every believer. He has conquered the "bully" forever. We need not fear...ever. In this faith I choose to stand...and to run, skip, twirl and giggle! "Oh the wonder of it all!" Thank you, Jesus. I love being a little girl.


Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Roller Coasters


Let me start off by establishing that I do not like roller coasters. I do not like being thrown around at whirlwind speeds nor careening up and down in, what always seems to me to be, the stratosphere. (Yes, I have a fear of heights too.) I don't like the roar of cars on tracks nor the furious jolting. I have no need of these thrills. I'm not really an adrenaline junky at all. So when I find myself at a time of life that is full of sharp turns, cliffhangers, and unpredictable emotions, I am quite out of my element and often a little ticked that someone has put me on a roller coaster without my consent.

I think it's more the emotional ride that sets me off. I haven't felt this range of changing emotion and angst since I was a teenager. It's one of the reasons that I can never figure out why people say that the high school years are the "best years of our lives." Good grief! There was definitely fun to be had, but there was always an underlying uncertainty, insecurity, and fear that someone would find out that you didn't have it all together after all. And there was this emotional roller coaster...gah! Maybe that's why I love teenagers so much. I have a lot of compassion for their plight. You don't get to skip those years, or fast forward through them, or even have an inkling that you will survive them. You just have to gut your way along through peer pressure, fashion pressure, crushes, temptation, heartbreak, and perhaps, as in my case, divorce. And that doesn't begin to cover it all. Do I have great memories of those years? Oh yes! But I did not find the "amusement park ride" part at all amusing.

Through all the chaos of teen-hood the one thing that kept my feet on the ground was my faith. I had dear friends and, no doubt, I had my mother who I know listened endlessly to my soap opera-like ranting. But down in my panel-lined, basement bedroom it was just me and Jesus. No one ever saw the darkness of my despair, the crush of doomed crushes - or even the anger brought on by family and relationship "stuff" - like Jesus did. I was not a saint through those years, but I wanted to be. And I was just as apt to try an find solace in some sappy Top 40 song as anyone. (Long live "The Best of Bread.") But ultimately it was the words of Isaiah 43, and others like them, that gave me true comfort:

When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
For I am the LORD, your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior...
Do not be afraid for I am with you.

Have you ever experienced emotion that swept over you like raging, relentless waves and felt that you could not breathe? That you would surely drown? Have you ever just wanted to curl up in a corner instead of go out and face your world of relationships and responsibilities? Have you ever experienced that sinking feeling that makes it seem like you're burning from the inside out? Did you learn how to cover it up? Or compensate by throwing yourself into endless activities where you felt you had a chance to succeed - therefore, feel in control? Did you learn that by being funny and making people laugh you could stave off your sadness? Have you ever_________ (fill in the blank)?

Amidst all that then, and all that now, I still find my only real solace in Jesus. And I know that, as much as I rail against the ride, He is with me. He was then. He is now. And so I come to this place of being ticked off and overwhelmed and wanting to be anywhere but on this ridiculous roller coaster, and I scream and throw up my hands (that's what crazy people on roller coasters do) and I ride it out. And just like those crazy people I am at once filled with terror and excitement. Part of me screams, "I'm gonna die a thousand times!" and the other part knows that all the crazy people I've ever seen get on one of those careening contraptions get off in one piece, usually smiling.

The difference is that my ride has been ordained by the God of the universe. He tells me, "Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." (Isaiah 40:10) He has held my hand many times and reminded me, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." (Hebrews 13:5) He hears me confess my unbelief, my fears, my rebellion, and He strengthens me with His mercies that are "new every morning." ....sigh... He forgives. Even though I know better than to not believe. Even though I know that fear has no power over me except what I give it. Even though I know my rebellion grieves Him. And "how the heck did I get here again?" He forgives. As many times as I come in humility and fall at His feet and say, "Jesus, I am hating this ride. Forgive me. Not my will, but Yours..." He holds me tight and does not let go. He sings sweet songs into my ear and catches my tears. He strengthens my weak hands and feeble knees and a says, once again, "Follow me." Thank God! At least He knows where we're going.

This has been a roller coaster day. Ooo! Big surprise, eh? And though I sat through dinner pondering when I could bolt out the door proclaiming that I needed to be alone, I stuck it out, fighting back tears that I didn't - and still don't - completely understand. The past few days, before today, were an amazing respite from the dips and rolls. For that I am so thankful. And even today, with the waves of emotion crashing again, I find peace in His promises and am still, ultimately, thankful. Outwardly, I am wasting away and I do look tired. But inwardly, He is renewing me. One of my favorite passages comes to mind:

Yet I am always with You;
You hold me by my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward You will take me into glory.
Whom have I in heaven but You?
And earth has nothing I desire besides You.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:23-26)

I will never love roller coasters. But that's ok. I wasn't made for them. This ride won't feeltotally comfortable, for "earth has nothing I desire" besides Him. My soul longs for that eternal respite, "for His appearing." (2Timothy 4:6-8) That is as it should be. And in the mean time: "I have decided to follow Jesus. No turning back. No turning back."



Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Weirdness


Is it weird to be wide awake at 3:39am? I think it's weird. I don't work a graveyard shift. I don't have small children. I didn't have caffeine before bed. 

Jillian, awakened for the usual pregnancy pit stop, was beckoned by the light and squinting weirdly, said, "Why are you still up?" I explained how I had gone to bed, couldn't sleep and had gotten back up hoping to recapture my earlier fatigue. "Oh....(weird)." Now it's quiet again except for the whirring of a distant bedroom fan. Even the water softener that screeched into action earlier has gone back into hibernation. And here I sit prattling on and on about not sleeping.

So what is it really that keeps the brain awake when the body is aching for sleep? I should ask my son. He thinks brains are fascinating. He also gets insomnia too. *Ha* To have just typed, "He also gets insomnia too" is weird as well, and is at least some evidence of my state of sleep deprivation. 

Now, I have done my share of interceding during these late-night episodes, so I do know that they can have some redeeming value. But tonight, though I could and might do just that, I'm still thinking that it's weird. When my husband asks me tomorrow...well, later, "What time did you come to bed?" I'll explain it all again, insert the requested data, and get that look from him again that says, "You're weird." 

I am weird. This has been pretty well established through various non-scientific means and there are many credible witnesses. But I would love a world where I could be weird in normal ways, during normal business hours. I'm tired of being the Walgreen's of Weirdness.




Monday, July 12, 2010

Rest


Today there is in me this deep ache of soul, and mind, and heart. A longing for rest of every kind. A longing to mold reality into something easier. Those carefree days of childhood. But was childhood really simpler? Perhaps the parts I like to remember. Yet even there I truthfully recall such uncertainty, stifling self-consciousness, family strife, days of dark thoughts and depression. Life always has been difficult...it's just seen in fuller reality as we grow older. Now hard things happen and I ponder them, pray over them, ideally seek to respond instead of react. The Spirit of God, which throughout the years has been taking more territory of my heart, mind, and soul, has more room to reign; to bring wisdom and comfort. Though He brings rest, He also brings a yearning for the next eternal journey where there will be no more sin, sickness, or sorrow. Where life is all of rest.

But this is now and not then. Carefree moments can still abound, but more by conscious choice than un-conscious childishness. Choice is the operative word. Will I choose doubt or faith? Anxiety or rest? Bitterness or forgiveness? Laziness or love? Despair and lies or peace and promises?

As I look back over many years, I see one thing that has refused to be snuffed out - hope. Hope because I have a God and Savior, Jesus Christ who is good and loving and strong. And I write this now to remind my feeble heart that He has always been there. This is literally true in a purely theological sense, but theology also points to a God of relationship. And in this sense He has always been there for me personally. Through those bumps and bruises of childhood. The days of the teenage tortured soul. (I would seem to jest here, but those were some of the hardest times. I still have that Bible that was my life raft during high school and college. Though I was not always faithful, the Lord never let go of me.) The long nights and days of raising children - wanting desperately to always do the right thing and praying desperately for God's grace to make up for my glaring deficiencies - whether they were seven or seventeen. The seasons of wondering if I really could be a wife, wanted to be a wife, wanted to be 'his' wife. Life is real and relentless. But my God is even more real. And He relentlessly pursues me, guides me, comforts me. His love is everlasting and His faithfulness is unfailing.

So today I try and fight this soul that longs to take flight toward all kinds of earthly relief. I pause, mid list, and cry out for the voice of the One-who-spoke-the-heavens-into-place to speak again today. To me. Jesus, only You can touch the deep ache of my heart. You see me and know me. What a comfort it is to know that we have lived this very kind of day together so many times before...and You have always breathed peace and strength to that flickering pilot light of hope. And so I know that today, when I choose to run, it will be into Your arms. You are the only rest that lasts.


Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Accomplishment


It came to mind this morning: What good will it be if our homes are clean and in order, but our hearts are in disarray? It kind of reminds me of the scripture that talks about physical training being of some value, but training in godliness being great gain. I want to be about the most needful things, but the outward things are so much easier to accomplish.

Perhaps the crux lies in that word accomplish. Accomplish is something that I do. I see the issue. I do something about it. I choose when, and how, and where. I choose to stop when I'm tired or when I've had enough. But that deeper work of my heart will require a surrendering of all these things. Accomplishment puts the spotlight on self. Surrender glorifies God alone. Accomplishment helps me feel in control. Surrender is, well, surrender - the antithesis of control - allowing Jesus to have complete sovereignty of my circumstances, my rights, my time. Allowing Him to order my circumstances to serve His purpose - to glorify Himself and work for my good. And sometimes His glory and my good look messy and hard outwardly, and on the inside, feel like being alternately crushed and comforted over and over and over...sometimes for weeks, months, even years. But I have come to know that this inward work - His accomplishment - is the best and the sweetest. Not just sometimes, but always.


I really don't know why this is on my mind this morning. Perhaps reviewing my mental list of "things to do?" Perhaps knowing that with a daughter who could give birth at anytime,plans for the day are only plans? I have no idea what each day or moment holds these days. I never really have had, but sometimes it just looked more like I was in control. Perhaps I'm just needing to recognize in a very tangible way today that He is calling me to surrender - not just outwardly, but inwardly. And that, while I can willfully agree to this call, it is His work to accomplish. "..for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose." Phil 2:13

I do know that whenever I allow my inward gaze to rest on the One who, while I was yet a sinner, died for me - who, though He was reviled, beaten, jeered at, and spit upon, did not defend himself, but gave Himself up so that I might be able to stand in glorious intimacy with Him, the ugliness of my sinful heart covered over, justified, the debt of punishment for my sin fully paid - I am deeply humbled. As He breathed His last breath He proclaimed, "It is finished!" He accomplished everything for me....and for you. So, "in view of God's mercy" - His incredible mercy - I do long to "offer my body as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God." This is my "spiritual act of worship." (Romans 12:1).

Lord, thank you for forgiveness. Thank you for a life in You that is so rich, and hard, and wondrous, and so full of joy. Inward joy. And outward, too. You know how I love to laugh. You have accomplished all that is needful in my life and I know that, because of this, you will be faithful to complete the work that You have  begun. I pray that Your fruit will grow to bring sweetness and nourishment to others. What more could I hope to accomplish?