It’s funny-or maybe not-that God will weave a theme through a day or week or month.
He will put the same word in front of me in multiple places, speak it through different people, sometimes even (literally) plaster it across a billboard.
This morning it is grace.
Abundant, sufficient, enduring grace.
Read the rest here: Grace for Right Now
Grief can be isolating.
It separates me as one who knows loss by experience from those who have only looked on from the outside.
It opens a chasm between me and people who aren’t aware that life can be changed in a single instant.
And I can feel like no one sees me, no one cares about me and no one notices my pain.
Sometimes it even feels like God has forgotten me-that He isn’t listening, that He doesn’t care.
Read the rest here: He Knows My Name
If, as a believer in Christ, I abide in Him and am filled with His limitless love, why do I portion it out in such a miserly fashion?
I often act as though it were MY personal treasure house and that to give love freely diminishes my supply.
What foolishness!
God’s love is eternal and bottomless and as a conduit of that love He invites me to lavish love on others without fear of running out.
What does God’s love look like. It has hands to help others, it has feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.
~Augustine
Love is never wasted!
I want to love without limits and without fear, trusting God with my heart because He is the One Who fills it.
Horatio Spafford wrote the hymn, It Is Well, after a series of personal tragedies.
It has become both an anthem of hope (for those who can identify with the peace it celebrates) and an impossible standard (for those who cannot find the same peace).
When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul
I have felt both hopeful and guilty singing this old favorite.
Before Dominic ran ahead to heaven I had faced a number of trials in life. But none disturbed me so greatly that I didn’t still have an underlying sense of peace. I was convinced that beneath waves of uncertainty or difficulty, the water was calm.
That changed the morning of April 12, 2014-my son’s death wasn’t a wave, it was a tsunami.
Not a single part of my spirit, soul, mind or body was left undisturbed.
Peace was a distant memory.
It took me a long time to understand that maybe I needed to redefine peace in a different way: the peace of God which passes all understanding is not necessarily a feeling or sense that “all is well”.
Instead it is a settled assurance that God is in control, even when all is definitely NOT well.
The peace that Jesus offers is a confident leaning on the truth of Scripture when my heart doesn’t want to or can’t hear it.
It’s holding my hands up and saying “help me” because deep in my spirit, I know He is there and that He will gather me in his arms like a lamb.
More than three years later, I still often don’t FEEL peaceful but I AM peace-filled. 
I’m not brave by nature.
If I have a choice, I will run every time. But there are just some things worth fighting for.
My family is one of them.
I will not let the enemy have them.
I will not allow despair to overtake us, fear to bind us, hopelessness to sap our strength.
I will not let death win.
Read the rest here: I Will Not Be Moved
I hate to admit it but I not only like to prioritize tasks I often prioritize people.
I divide them into two columns “Matters” and “Doesn’t Matter” and give different weight and time and effort to each one depending on which side of the paper they are listed.
While that’s just fine for inanimate objects or household chores, it’s just plain wrong for relationships and people.
Because when I’m approaching another human being bearing the likeness of the God Who made him or her, I don’t get to decide how valuable they are.
That’s already been decided by Jesus Christ.
So my responsibility is to do precisely that task I have been sent to do at that moment-whether it is offering a smile, taking a meal, lending a helping hand or writing a note or making a phone call to encourage a tired heart.
Because it ALL matters.
This is very true.
I found that when I received the news of my son’s accident-it was Scripture I had hidden in my heart that helped me stand.
My Bible was available, but I could not open it. My heart was too broken to read.
But the Spirit brought to mind exactly what I needed from the storehouse of Scripture hidden in my heart.
I am still fighting for joy.
I still have days when my Bible lies unopened beside me.
And it is still those verses engraved on my heart that help me battle on.
I am a strong proponent of reading ALL of the Bible, considering Scripture in context, studying entire books and digging deep to mine the truth contained therein.
But I think sometimes I am so enamored of finding something new I forget what I’ve already learned.
It’s easy to remain in pursuit of truth and yet dismiss the truth that I’ve aprehended.
I can fool my heart into thinking that learning is the same thing as living.
But it’s not.
Read the rest here: Monday Musings: What is Required?
A precious sister-in-loss created this image.
It’s my theme song.
And the message of my heart.
Read the rest here: Monday Musings: Mercy
For it is by grace [God’s remarkable compassion and favor drawing you to Christ] that you have been saved [actually delivered from judgment and given eternal life] through faith. And this [salvation] is not of yourselves [not through your own effort], but it is the [undeserved, gracious] gift of God;
Ephesians 2:8 AMP
This is one of my favorite verses because it summarizes the Gospel-God calls, God saves, God keeps.
It’s ALL God.
Sadly, my human heart can forget this so easily. I can begin to lean on my “good works” or “holy habits” or the testimony of my “faith journey” instead of resting solely in the enduring love of my Faithful Father.
So when hard times come (and they do) and my faith falters (and it will) I become insecure and frightened and concerned that I will ultimately be lost. Because I have shifted the responsibility from God to me.
And I know I’m not strong enough to hold on.
When Dominic ran ahead to heaven my mind was riddled with unanswered questions. “Why?” “Where were You?” “What are You doing in this?”
Those questions ate holes in my faith.
But it’s not ME holding onto God-it’s GOD holding onto me.
The strength of my faith doesn’t determine whether or not His promise is fulfilled, because if it did, there would be no hope.
So, I refuse to have faith in “faith”.
Instead I have faith in an unchanging, everlasting Faithful Father.
thelifeididntchoose 