Where Your Heart Is...

"Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."- Jesus (Luke 12:34)

The heart.

Not just the vessel that pumps our life blood, but the heart of our very being...

Who you are

What you desire

How you live

All of you.

For without the heart we are nothing.

Love, passion, life...

What am I passionate about? And you?

My treasure--where is it stored?

Seeking His kingdom with all my heart.

My passion. My life blood.

My treasure.

 

Luke 12: 22-34

 

 

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Do Not Worry About Tomorrow

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The backpack is far too heavy for me. I am hunched over from the struggle of having to carry it. It strains me almost to the point of exhaustion.

I'm weighed down by everything I have shoved in there.

Finances.

Relationships.

Marriage.

The Daily Routine.

The Mundane.

Accidents.

Decisions.

Weather.

School.

Children.

The past.

The future.

Illness.

Health.

The things of life, that I worry over.

Each one seemingly so important that I feel I must carry it.

These things that I continually shove in my own personal backpack.

Sometimes it is so full I can't even zip it shut. Just when I think there is room for nothing else...I squeeze another worry in.

I cannot continue like this.

"Father, this is so difficult for me. I don't want to worry, but worry creeps back to me. I say I trust You. I give you the backpack, but then I take it back again. The worry feels comfortable to me...even if it is painful.

Father, will you help me? Help me to trust you more. I need your words from Matthew 6:34 to soothe my tired back. "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things."

Lord, you are so much more capable to carry my burdens than I am. Forgive me for not trusting you more."

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Okay, People. This Is It!

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For the past week or so, on and off, I've been blogging about mice. The little field vermin have managed to find their way into my house. Notice I said MY house although they seem to think they have ownership too. My kids (and the cat) caught the one from last week and that is all wonderful and fine, but the furball had relatives...and they are many.

The other evening I was in the pantry looking for some ingredients, so I could whip together a dinner worthy of Taste of Home.....when I heard a scratch. A scratch nearby. I froze. Just then a teeny little head poked it's way out of a Walmart bag, that I have a pile of, on the pantry floor. I don't know who was more freaked out. Him or me?! After gaining my composure I stomped (so as to scare him away and not have him run up my pants legs or something) over to where I keep the glue traps.  I pulled one out and slapped it down on the floor. Some of you might think I'm cruel, but all is fair in love and war. This is war!

I'm still hearing scratching in the ceiling. I fear that I am going to have to suit up like a character from Ghost Busters, and trek up to the attic. It is unnerving to me....but a woman's got to do what a woman's got to do. The attic is shadowy and dark. The puny little light bulb we have up there is not enough. This will give the rodent army the advantage. I on the other hand, like to think that I am much smarter than they are. I can woo them with peanut butter and cheese. Think of it as their last meal because they are dead mice walking.

I assume that they will watch me from the shadows with their beady little eyes. I will tell them, "This house isn't big enough for the 200 of us. ( I really have no idea the number of mice in the attic. It could be 3 or 3 million, who really knows? They all look the same.) It's me against you varmints! I will throw down the gauntlet. They will squeak in fear. Or not.

The saga continues...

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Noises Of The Every Day

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It is in the quiet when I hear His voice.

The TV blares the day's latest news.

The kids are talking.

The phone rings.

I hear my husband's voice as he answers a call.

The dishwasher hums.

My computer keys click.

Music plays.

The dogs bark.

I live in a cacophony of noises.

Noises of the every day. Noises of urgency. Noises of my life.

My soul realizes that something is missing.  I long for the quiet peace that comes from just being in His presence.

Just being with Him, the One who created me, and knows me most intimately.

I come to be renewed. Rejuvenated. Cleansed.

I sit at His feet and listen.

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Peeing In The Wind

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This winter storm is something else.I spent most of the night listening to everything we had on the deck being flung down to the other end of the deck. Even our huge, heavy grill. Seriously powerful wind.

This morning my son, K, had to take Lonnie the wonder dog, out to do his morning business. Forget the postman delivering mail in rain, snow, sleet or hail.....what about a dog owner having to get the pooch outside in this weather? K suited up with coat, hat, boots, gloves for the stint outside. Lonnie on the other hand, was totally oblivious to the storm on the other side of the laundry room door. All he knew was that he had to go. Let's make it snappy, pappy!

The door opened and the cold and wind smacked them both in the face. ( I on the other hand only looked on, snuggled up in my cozy robe.) Now, keep in mind my family and I live in a field. There are no wind breaks. It's always windy here in rural Ohio, but today the wind is 40-50 mph. It is snowing and there is a thin sheen of ice on everything. Not the best of conditions for walking the dog. I sort of felt sorry for K, but not enough to walk the dog for him.

I briefly saw Lonnie go flying by the window. The poor dog only weighs 19 lbs, so it is a good thing K had him leashed or he might have ended up in Pennsylvania. As it was, he was part dog and part kite.

Poor Lonnie dog. Having to pee in 40 mph winds. Not an easy feat...especially for a 19 lb. dog that is hanging on for dear life.

Lonnie the wonder dog is resilient. He toughed it out. When he re-entered the laundry room, he shook off the cold and snow. He then made his way back to "his" rug in front of the fireplace. It's all in a days work.

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One Thousand Gifts

A couple of days ago I blogged about Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts. I mentioned that I was taking "the dare". I'm daring to live fully right where I'm at. Right here. Right now. Just as I am.

Sometimes a word, a thought, a book resonates with me in a deep and profound way.  It touches me in a way that I could not have imagined beforehand, causing me to have an "a ha" moment(s). A different way of thinking. A different way of living.

That is just how God works in my life. More often than not, when I'm least expecting it, He shares with me. In the midst of my day, He meets me. Just where I'm at. He sees me as I move throughout my day and bids me to come and sit at His feet for awhile. Just to be with Him.

Jesus...His calming voice, in the storms of my day.

Jesus...His touch that heals my heart.

Jesus...His love that renews my spirit.

His gifts to me are numerous. Writing each gift down and listing them all, one by one, causes me to focus. I am more keenly aware of His presence in my life as I list the ways He shows me that He loves me. Nothing I list is too small nor  too big. God is so good to me.

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. (James 1:17 NIV)

Each moment becomes a time of worship, to thank Him.

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A Moment Of Clarity

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Waiting is hard.

I want to DO something. I want to BE something. I want to SEE the plan.

At times I feel confined. Restrained. Broken...from the waiting. Frustrations seem more than I can handle at times.

I long to know the plan. I want to see what is around the bend.  Get all the tools I need. Be prepared.

Waiting is a struggle for me. In my journal I highlighted these words from a man who understands waiting. Charles Swindoll once said, "Lord, this is your battle. This is your need you've allowed me to trust you for...and I'm waiting for You to do it. I'm waiting for as long as necessary for You to do the impossible."  I contemplate this man's words.

Waiting is not passive. It is difficult. It takes a great deal of my effort to remain still, to trust, to obey. I am not too proud to admit that there have been times in my life, that I've argued with God. Times that I have asked, "Why?!" , "Why me?!", "What good will come from this?" or " Lord, I want this so badly, why won't you allow it?" Arguing with God is exhausting.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. (Isaiah 55:8  NIV) And if I'm honest with myself, do I really want a God that I completely understand? That I would understand all His "why's" ? That I could keep in a small box?  I have trouble understanding tax codes, how to drive a stick shift, or work my MP3 player. If I could understand God, wouldn't that make Him small?

The questions of my heart rise to the surface and I am forced to consider what I really believe. About myself, and more importantly about God.

God, do you really love me? Do you care? Didn't you create me for something greater than this?

The answer is a resounding YES to all three questions.

Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. (1 John 4:10 KJV)

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. (1 Peter 5:7 NIV)

So, I wait.

Father, please give me the grace to wait patiently on You.

 

 

 

 

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