A Second Chance

This week, I heard from a friend with whom I haven't spoken in close to 5 years.  She was once a daily part of my life, the person I went to when my heart was broken and I couldn't stop the tears.  She was the one who took it upon herself to defend my sanity and confront that boy who'd handled my heart so carelessly.  She has a laugh that rivals my own in volume, and she is a worshipper with the voice of an angel.

This week, when she contacted me, she had to reintroduce herself.  Her number was unknown to my phone.  With over a thousand names in my phone, hers was missing.  Seems so strange when I think of it now.

I'm not sure how to explain why we lost touch.  All the usual excuses I guess.  Life.  Moves.  Marriage.  Kids.  And, honestly, hurts.  My feelings got hurt (probably hers did, too), and it seemed easier to let life get in the way than do the work to repair the damage.

The funny thing is, when I saw her name, it was as though I could hear her voice, so familiar.  I knew she'd gone out of her way to make an effort, and I could no longer remember why I let go.  It didn't matter.  My friend, my close friend, was reaching out, and I wanted to know her again.  I wanted to hear about her life, her family, her heart.

Most people would say I'm good at relationships. The getting to know people, the making memories, the being personal and personable, the keeping in touch.  It comes naturally most of the time.  I genuinely like people, find being with others energizing.  But, I have a few regrets.  People I let go of too easily.  Ones for whom I did not fight more fiercely.  This week, I feel as though I've been given a rare second chance to love well, and I intend to make the most of it.

In the Silence

I've had laryngitis for three and a half weeks now.  That's right, a sore throat and the inability to speak clearly.  It's varied at times from just a deep, rough sounding hoarseness to little more than a wheeze of air passing through my larynx.  First, it was strep, and the doctor treated that.  Then, a week later, when I was congested and still couldn't talk, it was a sinus infection, and he treated that.  A week later, when I went back to him feeling well, breathing fairly well, and still not able to make much of a sound at all with my speaking voice, he threw his hands in the air and referred me to a specialist.  We'll see how that goes.

In the mean time, lots of tepid water, hot herbal teas, lozenges, all kinds of over-the-counter allergy meds, and ... silence.  That's right, vocal rest.  Don't talk.  Even when you have some voice, don't use it.  Those vocal cords are angry.  They're inflamed and tired of being beaten with all of your coughing and wheezing and clearing of the throat and whispering.  Just stop talking.

Some of you are laughing right now.  Smiling, at least.  I know.  Kristen Horton can't talk.  It's funny.  I get it.  I really do.  I've laughed at myself plenty.

And, because I only blog about things that make me cry, I must confess I've also cried.  Sometimes it's just so dadgum frustrating to not be able to make yourself understood plainly.  And sometimes, a girl just wants to talk. She has things to say, probably not important things but things.  Usually funny things.  Or thoughts about her day.  Or insight to add to a conversation.  Things, I tell ya!

But, alas, I'm doing my best to be a good patient, hoping this passes sooner than later.  And, doing my best to learn from the silence. So far, I've learned that I talk a lot.  I've learned that I don't feel like a matter is settled until I've verbalized it to someone outside my own head.  I've learned that even though I'm not good at it, I really like to sing.  I've learned that other people are not nearly as uncomfortable with silence as I am.  I've learned that when I know I can't say anything back, I am a much more engaged listener.  I listen to hear what someone else is saying rather than anticipating my next opportunity to be heard.

And, I've learned that I have a choice to make.  I can waste the silence, filling my time watching television or playing games on my phone.  I can fill the silence with noise that has no value.  Or, I can use the silence.  I can listen for that still, small Voice that calls me to intercession.  I can speak to the only One who can hear me right now, present my prayers and petitions with thanksgiving.  I can love others well by carrying them to Jesus.  I can read and meditate and memorize Scripture and fill all those spaces in my head with wisdom and encouragement and truth and life-giving Words.  I can throw a pity party and grumble in my spirit against this unplanned, ill-timed silence.  Or, I can praise God for the rest and the peace and the opportunity to hear all the things I might have otherwise missed without the silence.

Sifted

I realize that reading my blog might make one assume I'm quite the crier.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  It's just that the things that do bring me to tears tend to be the things I feel strongly enough to write about.

I think I've mentioned that the last few weeks have been rough.  My life, personally, is good.  My job is stable.  My home is peaceful.  My relationships are healthy.  My car runs smoothly.  My family is well.  Good.

But near me, people hurt.  Sickness, death, fear, loss, grief, sadness, anger, confusion, doubt.  They hurt, therefore, I hurt.  I've been poured out, emptied speechless by the pain of people near me.  I've sat stunned silent before the Lord, shaking my head, arms folded to show my disapproval at His handling of things, at a loss for what to say, not knowing how to give voice to my own frustrations and confusion in the face of what just seems like too much.  Too much.

This afternoon a friend I haven't spoken with in months sent me a short text message.  "You've been on my heart.  How are you?"

As I attempted to answer that question, my throat closed and my eyes burned.

You see, over a month ago, three different people in my life said something similar to me. All people I don't see or talk to regularly.


I've been praying for you.
You've been on my mind, praying for you.
You're heavy on my heart, praying for you.

I joked at the time that I was afraid of what was around the corner.  Why was God raising up so many people to pray for me.  To my knowledge, all was well.  What could I possibly need prayer for???

As I read a similar message today, I was reminded of those other friends.  The prayer warriors God raised up before I even knew how badly I needed them.  How he was preparing me for this season.  And, then I was reminded of this conversation between Jesus and Peter before the cross:

“Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.”  Luke 22

I'm sad to say I took my eyes of Jesus in a lot of ways these last few weeks.  I mean, I definitely held Him responsible for all of this, powerful enough to stop it or end it or change it.  But, I did not trust His goodness, did not rest peacefully in the benevolence of His sovereignty.  

Nothing that's come into my life or the lives of those I love did not first pass through the good and gracious hands of our loving Father, and knowing I might not appreciate or understand the whys of that, He began in advance calling others to pray for me, to pray that I would cling, however timidly, to faith and ultimately come to stand firmly on the foundation of that faith in Christ.  

In awe. 

Thankful Thursday

It's taken me longer than usual to compose a Thankful post this week.  It's been a difficult week, a difficult couple of weeks, but my lack of posting isn't about a lack of gratitude.  It's just that it's been hard to put into words all of the things for which I am giving thanks right now.

I'm thankful that God has allowed me to be close enough to catch some of Angela's tears on some of the worst days of her life.

I'm thankful that at the end of a draining week, Erin showed up unexpectedly in my office just in time for lunch.  A hug has never felt so good.

I'm thankful for "TV Show" circle booths crammed full of faces I love and times when I really do get to feel like it's enough to just be me.

I'm thankful for Saturday afternoon cookouts, swimming pools, toddlers, and reminiscing.  And opportunities to see just how far we've come.  And, for how fierce Suzanne is when she compliments me.

I'm thankful for two solid years of Commons Church.  For Ashleigh's creativity and willingness to let me drag her into the craziness I got myself into!  She's really good at tying apples onto strings. She also makes some scrumptious comfort food.

I'm thankful the Bezners offer their home and their family to me as a refuge, even when I don't take advantage of it.  And that they don't rest until they're sure I know they're serious about loving me well. 

I'm thankful for Erika, this week's recipient of the meltdown tears.  I'm thankful that she pulled over on the side of a Mississippi road to listen while I finished crying rather than continue driving and risk dropping the call in the middle of that mess.  Yes,  you read that right.  I was the one crying behind the wheel in Texas, but she was the one pulled over on the side of the road waiting me out in Mississippi.

I'm thankful for Lorenzo who listens with far more patience and compassion than I deserve most days.  I'm certain he didn't know what he was getting into when he moved into the office across the hall a couple of years ago.

I'm thankful for the dinner plans I just made with Becchi, and for how just the thought of her, her birthday, and the 20 years I've known her makes me smile with more memories than I could ever put into words.

I'm thankful I get to have lunch with Dodie today.  I'm thankful for her and Jake and their faithfulness to follow the Lord even when the call is unexpected and surprising.  I'm thankful for how her faith strengthens mine.

I'm thankful I got to see Hinky this week, thankful for the husband he is to my Angie, for the daddy he is to my Addiegirl, and thankful for how when he makes me laugh it's always an irrepressible fit of giggles that comes on at the most inappropriate times and makes my sides hurt when it passes.

I'm thankful for the Essells.  For the home in which I live.  For the hospitality I've been shown and have opportunity to show others.  Thankful for I get to host my mom and Travis and Jill this weekend.

I could go on and on today.

I'm thankful for God's Word and how it's been my strength and comfort and delight and how in sharing some of the passages that have meant the most to me, I've felt connected to others with whom those words resonate.

I'm thankful for music and for songwriters who find ways to say what I can't put into words.

I'm thankful that when the liar in my head starts yelling his spiteful deceit, Truth has a swift and sure reply, providing a solid foundation on which to stand.

I'm thankful.  I'm thankful.  I'm thankful.

Two Short Long Years

Commons Church is celebrating today.  It's been two years since our first official Sunday morning gathering.  I've updated the blog with our stories from the past year.  It's good to hear from so many other voices how God has moved and blessed, that I'm not alone in this heart-swelling sensation of gratitude for our little community of believers.

I'm thinking today about how my life has changed in the last two years, how it looks different now from how it looked before Commons Church.  It's really difficult to put that into words.

More than anything, I think it's made Fort Worth a home for me.  It's no longer just the city I moved to 10 years ago to attend seminary.  Or the place I stayed because the door was open.  It's my home.

For the first time in 10 years, I have friends who really live here, who are't dreaming of moving away and changing the world in other places, but who are purposefully putting down roots and dreaming of changing this city.  We pray for this city.  We are intentional about serving in this city, investing in the ministries of this city.  Knowing this city and its people.  I am sure I didn't even know how much I needed that two years ago.

When I joined Commons Church, I was drawn by the promise of community.  I'd found myself in a situation where a genuine sense of community was lacking in my church experience, mostly because I'd stopped investing in new relationships.  Commons Church provided me with a group of people, a number that's still growing weekly, who really haven't given me the option of not investing.  Sharing meals and Bible study in homes and living in close proximity to one another tends to do that for you.  I get to know kids and pets, food likes and allergies, decorating styles and talents.  I get to celebrate birthdays and weddings and babies, promotions and accomplishments.  Sometimes we laugh until my sides hurt.  Other times, the tears flow in genuine sympathy.  And, in my favorite moments, we just get to BE together, the peaceful company of being where words aren't necessary.

My prayer for the next two years is that this city would truly begin to feel and know that we are here and that we love it and that we long for it to know Jesus.  That we would see God's kingdom come and His will be done here as it is in heaven.  I pray that God would continue to expand our hearts with the capacity to love and serve each one He entrusts to us.

Faithful to the Faithless

It's July 13.

Today marks 27 years since the night I cried out in the dark as a little girl and my Daddy walked me through God's plan of salvation and helped me ask Jesus to be my Lord and Savior.  Each year, as I sit to write this post, I think about what I'm learning, where I'm at in my relationship with Christ, how this year looks different from the previous ones.  What I know today about Jesus that I didn't know in the same way last year.

This year, it's a bittersweet truth.  This year, my heart doesn't swell with joy and pride as I think about my walk with Jesus.  This year has been difficult for me.  I've had a hard time staying focused and disciplined and haven't done all that I could or should to plumb the depths of His riches offered freely to me.

This morning, as I sat to journal my thoughts on this day, I looked at a lot of verses about God's goodness, His kindness, His graciousness, His steadfast love.  But, one verse came back to me over and over again.  "If we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot deny who he is."  2 Timothy 2:13

His faithfulness calls me back over and over again, affords me the grace and gives me the courage to get up tomorrow morning, begin year 28 and know that He will be there every step of the way.

Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you. So I will bless you as long as I live; in your name I will lift up my hands. Psalm 63:3-4

Wonderful Words of Life

Yesterday was a good day.  A giving day.  A serving and listening and praying and caring day.  A day when my heart swelled over and over again with the opportunity to be Jesus-with-skin-on to people I love dearly.  A day to hold hands, voice prayers, speak grace, rejoice, and remember.  I fell into bed last night exhausted and content.  I had sensed the nearness and the sweetness of the Lord over and over again throughout. 

A wise person once told me, "Souls are heavy."  Today, I felt the truth of that statement bearing down on me.  Souls are heavy.  I felt weak and spent and a bit undone.  What if I was called on to give again today?  I had nothing left.  

Silly girl.  What I had to give yesterday wasn't mine either. 

It's Thankful Tuesday.  I guess I should make a list, but each time I begin, I am overwhelmed by my sense of gratitude for one gift today.  Just one.  God's Word.   The Wonderful Words of Life.  

Of course, I'll be called on to give today.  Of course, the needs that were there yesterday are still present.  Still profound.  Of course, I have nothing of value to offer of myself.  Only Christ.  His eternal promises.  

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. O my God, in you I trust; let me not be put to shame; let not my enemies exult over me. Psalm 25:1-2

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you ... Isaiah 43:2

Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed. I Peter 4:12

Another Tuesday to Be Thankful

This week's list has to start with thankfulness for a Friday afternoon spent with Ms. Thankful Tuesday herself, Micha!  I spent a delicious afternoon basking in the comfort of an old friendship and soaking up the laughter of little boys playing with a water hose.  

Perhaps, I should have celebrated Thankful Friday this week, in fact, because I also got to spend a good portion of that day with some of the wonderful Christian Women's Job Corps site coordinators from around the state, hearing what's been happening in their classrooms and learning from their experienced wisdom.  

I finished off Friday evening with two of my favorite people, Travis and Jill, enjoying Mexican food and Jesus-talk at a local Austin establishment.

Saturday, the Horton Family converged on my cousin Jaclyn's house. Four generations of laughing, excited, patriotic relatives with a single goal: have as much fun together as we could possibly squeeze in to twenty four short hours.  Eat, swim, cheer for 6 year old basketball stars, talk, play dominoes, spit watermelon seeds, light fire crackers, drink Big Red, hold newborns, reminisce.  All of the best things. 

Also filling my heart with warm fuzzy thankfulness this week ... a rooftop evening under twinkle lights with dear friends, a table on the Blue Mesa patio with some of my favorite girls, a rich discussion around my living room about matters of faith and grace and God's glory, a friend who checks on my home (and the cat) when I'm away, and the arrival of a much-anticipated project celebrating Commons Church upcoming anniversary. 

One Year, 9 Months

When we were little, I would tell people we were two years apart.  Jaclyn would quickly correct my superior attitude by reminding me, "Actually, it's just a year and 9 months."  The truth is, I don't remember anything about that year and 9 months.  As far as I'm concerned, she's always been there.  My playmate, sidekick, confidante, my cousin, my friend.  

She is the best at laughing with me and listening to me, and she's better than anyone on planet Earth at tuning me out when I'm jumping up and down for attention or looking to get a rise out of her.  She isn't fooled by me for even a minute.  She knows I mumble the words of all the songs on the radio just to get to that one part I can belt out.  She knows when I'm fake smiling or pity laughing.  She knows when I just used a word I can't actually define, and is the first to realize I didn't understand the punchline of the joke either.  She catches the glint of mischief in my eye before I get to pull off the prank.  She keeps me honest. She knows I like my coffee black, that I can't be trusted not to laugh in church, and that she should never sit too close to my toes when my feet are bare.  Nobody gets a bigger kick out of story about me being clumsy than she does.  

She is so many things I admire.  Quiet but strong.  An amazing mom.  A loyal friend.  The best and quickest to supply a genuine compliment.  Unfailingly kind.  A thoughtful gift-giver.  An extraordinary hostess.  Crazy smart.  Stylish.  And, of course, sassy!

Those first 21 months were so boring without you!

O, Be Joyful!

It's finally a Thankful Tuesday, and I'm not overcoming some grumpy mood or sad life disappointment.  Thankfulness is not a sacrificial offering today.  I'm just genuinely rejoicing in daily graces this week.

• I'm thankful for Barbie Car Pink nail polish.
• I'm thankful for a refreshing evening with my Wonder Girls last week.
• I'm thankful Erin and Ashleigh were okay just letting me play DJ rather than paint much.
• I'm thankful blue paint washes off hands ... and shins. 
• I'm thankful Erika came in town this weekend, for all the laughter shared and memories made and humbling truths spoken as only the dearest of friends can.
• I'm thankful for friends who'll pretend to be family for me when I have the urge to make Sunday dinner.
• I'm thankful God is bold, persistent, and unyielding as he makes Himself known in the middle of my ordinary life.
• I'm thankful for new journals full of blank pages waiting to be filled.
• I'm thankful for new babies, filling arms and hearts and families with with delight and promise. 

Broken and Thankful

It's Thankful Tuesday.

For the last week, I've been capturing pictures in my mind, sweet moments I wanted to share with you and be thankful for having experienced. Children reciting memory verses. Little boys in astronaut suits. 5 year old birthday parties. Father's Day brunch with my Daddy and my church family. Rainy swim celebrations. New music. Homemade pizza. Shared laughter with good friends.

Good, rich, blessed graces.

Then, I received news from a precious lifelong friend.  Her dad, a man I have known and loved dearly for a very long time, is sick.  The cancer is far more aggressive than any of us dreamed, and the battle for his life will be straight up a steep hill.  My heart has not stopped aching.  At first there were messy streaks of black mascara mixed with my salty tears, but eventually there was no mascara left, just tears.  I went to bed with a headache and a heavy heart and woke 8 hours later feeling as though I'd never slept.

And then I saw the calendar. Tuesday. Oh,God, how can I be thankful today? I hurt. I just hurt.

Yesterday, before receiving this news, I heard about someone who has more or less allowed anger and disappointment over the death of a friend wreck his walk with the Lord, then his marriage, and his life.  All I could think was how much that friend he's been grieving, whose death he's blamed for all his anger, would hate what he's done.

If I refuse to be thankful today, am I any different?  If, in the midst of a broken heart, I refuse to praise God and proclaim His goodness in all things, I do great disservice to Mr. Harry, his life and his testimony.  He's laying in a hospital bed, gathered with his family, singing hymns, telling doctors and nurses about the God who saves, asking strangers if their eternity is secure.  How can I not be thankful?

So, today, with tears streaming down my face for the umpteenth time in the last 24 hours, I am thankful.  I am thankful that 17 years ago, I met Mr. Harry and we bonded over a mutual excitement for his daughter's new found faith in Jesus.  I'm thankful that as a senior in high school, Mr. Harry gave me a job and in so doing, invited me into his home and his family.  I'm thankful that for all these years Mr. Harry has never stopped pulling me into crushing bear hugs when I see him.  I'm thankful for every time Mr. Harry has promised me with a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face that he was still praying for "some dumb boy somewhere to wise up."

And, while I hate this sickness, I am thankful for every person who will hear the gospel and see the faithful testimony of one who knows this earth is not his final home. For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 

On repeat: Lord, I Need You.

For Goodness Sake

Our pastor preached on the sovereignty of God this week.  God's absolute right and power to rule and to reign however He sees fit.  And, he said this, "God's sovereignty would be a terrifying prospect were it not for His goodness."  Because God is good, we can rest in his power.  Because God is good, we can trust Him through the things we don't understand.  Because God is good, we can know peace in the midst of chaos.  His goodness permeates all of life.

It's Thankful Tuesday again.  It cracks me up that this seems to catch me off guard each week as though I might ever run out of good things for which to be grateful. Ha!  (This week's list will be illustrated by photos I've borrowed from Facebook.)

I'm thankful for a night out at the Ballpark with my church family last week.  The Rangers' loss was nothing short of terrible, but the delight that we found in just sharing the experience together made a lasting memory. It was good.

I'm thankful that there are so many children around in this season of my life.  I love that this one crawled up in my lap (even if it was only to get to games on my phone) and stayed a while during the ball game last week.  It was good.

 

I'm thankful for laughter, thankful for the hours I can spend in companionship with close friends and for how sometimes we use words and sometimes we just use eyebrows to say what needs to be said.  It is good.

I'm thankful for sister-cousins who are friends and prayer warriors.  This one is mighty.  Her words are good for me.

I'm thankful for my pastor. I'm thankful for how he loves others with all that he is. I'm thankful for how he presents difficult and powerful truth in readily applicable ways.  And, I'm thankful he is my friend.  This is good.

I Choose Gratitude

One of my recent Christian Women's Job Corps graduates sent me a text at 6:20 this morning to let me know she couldn't come in to volunteer today because she didn't have a place to stay and needed to find a shower before reporting to her part time job this evening.  Her reality shook any thought of grumbling about a short night right out of my head.

I choose gratitude.

The roof over my head isn't mine.  It isn't permanent.  But, it's a safe and warm shelter, a space graciously offered to me by people more dear to me than words can say.
The sun often rises before I'm ready to push back the covers, but there are covers, and there is work, and all that a regular paycheck provides.
My family is not without its share of difficulties, but each one is safe, sheltered, and fed.  Parents and children sleep securely under the same roof each night.
My car is making a funny noise, and I have to manually roll down the windows and unlock the doors on it, but it's almost mine.  Each day, I come and go as I please thanks to those tires.
I'm trying to eat healthier these days.  I'm choosing grilled over fried, water over soda, greens over carbs.  It's not fun, but the question is never when or where or how I'm going to eat, rather simply what I will eat.

It's Tuesday, and I want to just be thankful for Cajun Shrimp nail polish and tweetable quotes from my hilarious coworkers, for Saturdays at the pool and courageous friends who help my faith grow by sharing their own, for that tube of cortisone cream I almost forgot was in my purse till the 11 year old sitting next to me in church needed it, and for babies who call me "Horton".  I am thankful for all of those things.  So thankful.  Yet, today I'm acutely aware of the extravagance of those graces in my life.  Today, my list starts all the way back up at the necessities I've taken for granted.  Shelter. Clothing. Food. Safety. And, the God Who Sees it all.

It's Thankful Tuesday (Get Used to It)

So, it looks like this is going to become a regular thing around here.  It's good for me. Maybe you'd like to play, too!  Link-up here. 

• I''m thankful I was able to stay home yesterday and rest. After two very, very full weeks of fuller-than-usual time ministry, I needed that break. 
• I'm thankful that when I finally came out of the closet last week and admitted to some of my closest friends that, yes, I actually do like cats better than dogs, they gasped,  but decided to love me anyway. 
• I'm thankful for a church that takes off a regular Sunday to worship with the homeless population in our city.  It was refreshing in ways I still don't have words to express properly.
• I'm thankful that Dr. Brad and Stephanie are the kind of friends that even though I've known them for just over a year, I'll miss them much when they've moved.  
• I'm thankful for Joy, who agrees with me that grocery shopping can be a shared activity. Walmart, Costco, and Target are much less daunting with a friend by my side. 
• I'm thankful for birthdays and the annual excuse they give me to celebrate the amazing people in my life.  
• I'm thankful for positive peer pressure and an excuse to practice thankfulness and for how this little exercise always improves my disposition. 
• I'm thankful that D'Ann called Friday afternoon at the last minute to meet up, thankful we were able to sop up every bit of that hour together and didn't have to waste any time getting reacquainted though it's been months between visits. 

Does It Matter?

There are hundreds (if not thousands) of women in this city in need.  Real need.  Need for housing, clothing, food.  Need for medical attention, need for safe shelter, need for spiritual and emotional nurturing.  Hundreds (if not thousands) of women with deep and profound needs.

I've spent the last two weeks of my life pouring all that I've got to give into six of them.  Just six.

On Day One, I read Ephesians 2:10 to them, "For you are God's workmanship created in Christ Jesus to do good works with He prepared in advance that you would walk in them."  I told them that they have worth and value.  I wanted them to view themselves that way, and I wanted them to know that I view them that way, having worth and value.

Every day I've learned a little more about them.  None of them has lived a life untouched by tragedy or failure.  Three of them are homeless.  Two of them have been incarcerated.  One of them has been arrested more than 60 times.  All of them have been married and divorced multiple times, one of them to the same man four times!  Three of them have children with felony records. One of them had her first child at 14 years of age -- she's five years older than me, has 7 children, and 6 grandchildren!  One of them is a breast cancer survivor. Most of them are survivors of sexual abuse that began in their earliest years.  I could go on and on and on.

I've been involved with classes like this one for most of the last six years.  The reality is, these lives are messy and tangled and the majority of them won't look any different a year from now once the high of the last 10 days wears off.  Lasting life change isn't easy.  Old habits die hard.  Peer pressure is powerful.

Conversations with others, attempting to explain myself, this ministry, these women often leave me wondering if I'm not wasting my time, wasting my life giving so much of myself to "hopeless" causes.

My alarm went off this morning, and I sat up feeling like I hadn't slept at all.  Tired, spent, wondering where the mental and emotional resources were going to come from to pull off another day of class.  I had a list of errands that had to be run before I even got to the office/classroom.  As has become my habit, I began mentally calling their six names before the Lord, handing each of them over to Him and asking Him to do all that I couldn't do for them, asking Him to bring them here and make this day count.

"God, will it all matter?  Is it worthwhile?"

For she is My workmanship created in My Son to do good works that only she can do which I planned long ago for her to accomplish.

Thankful Tuesday

As a freshman in college, I met a bright and shiny girl who wore a lot of yellow and was always accosting me in the SUB on Tuesdays asking me what I was thankful for.  (I may or may not have intentionally dodged her a time or two.)  She forever changed my Tuesdays, and gave me a concrete way to regularly practice gratitude.  Now, she's taken her Thankful Tuesday challenge to the world wide web, and invited us all to play.  So, here it goes:

• I'm thankful that every thought and memory of my friend Micha brings such a smile to my heart. 
• I'm thankful for six beautiful women sitting in my Christian Women's Job Corps classroom today, eagerly learning tools for life and employment.
• I'm thankful for funny text messages about boys from friends near and far in the middle of a hectic morning that pull a smile from my frowny face.
• I'm thankful for how selflessly my Mama loves her Mom, setting an example for me to follow.
• I'm thankful that God put the book of Habakkuk in the Bible and that when I most need to be reminded of its lessons He puts it into my teaching rotation. 
• I'm thankful for my church family and how they love me well.  In the last week alone, they've provided lunches for my CWJC ladies, picked up friends from the airport when I couldn't, and come over early on a Saturday morning to cover my pet sitting responsibilities so I could be with my sick grandmother. 
• I'm thankful that Thankful Tuesday and the time it's taken to put this list together has radically changed my attitude today. 

I'm Not Too Cool

My newsfeeds are filled with Scripture, lyrics, and exclamations proclaiming the GREAT news that we celebrate this Easter weekend.  Jesus is alive, and "by His stripes we are healed."  My heart rejoices, my thoughts run gleefully down the path of forgiveness and grace and redemption.  It's wondrous.

I fight this internal battle about posting, though.  Holidays always feel like a bandwagon to me, and I really don't like bandwagons.  Everyone expects me to post something about Easter today, so I think I'll just stay silent.  That's what the cool kids do.

Oh, but I'm not a cool kid.

I'm not too cool to tell you that the resounding thought in my head since I woke this morning has been, "Oh, praise the One who paid my debt and raised this life up from the dead!"

I'm not too cool to tell you that the cross and the resurrection are THE best news in all of history.  Without that, nothing else matters.  "And if Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain ... If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied."

I'm not too cool to tell you you that the cross of Jesus, His death, burial, and resurrection, the price He paid for my sin, the way He made for me to have right relationship with God and eternal life wrecks me.  In the best possible way.

Waiting for Easter

I  have to be honest.  I was totally skeptical about this Lent thing.  It is not something anyone I knew well ever practiced, nor something I understood.  Anything I might give up would, of course, seem silly in comparison with the ultimate sacrifice of Christ.  How could a few weeks without sodas or chocolate or television really change the way I worship or celebrate Easter?

I believe I was approximately 4 days into this experiment the first time I heard myself praying, "Lord, Jesus, I really do love you more than crunchy tacos and Diet Dr Pepper ... please get me past this craving today."  It wouldn't be the last time.

With over two weeks of Lent left to go, I can say in all sincerity that this often-amusing season of sacrifice has been one of the most revealing practices of my adult life.  I'm humbled by just how weak I am.  I'm amazed by how swift and strong the temptation to trade my worship for so many lesser things captures my attention.  I'm embarrassed that when it came time to decide on what I'd give up, there was such a long list of possibilities.  I am spoiled.

And, I don't remember the last time I was this excited about Easter.  Not because I can (FINALLY) satisfy a silly craving, but because all these revelations have served to continually and repeatedly turn my heart toward my Savior, toward the magnitude of His sacrifice, toward the hope of Easter.  Resurrection. Redemption. Eternal Life.  Because this season of going without has served to stir up a longing in me for the satisfaction only He provides.  Because Easter is a single day designated to celebrate the reality Christians walk in every day.

Six Inches

Driving home last night, on a very familiar residential street, about a mile from my bed, I heard a loud noise and thought something struck my windshield.  I flinched, but continued driving.  A few seconds later, I glanced over my left shoulder and realized there was a dime-sized hole in the rear driver's side window and the entire glass was shattered. Not knowing, what else to do, I continued driving.  As I went over a speed bump, the glass began to crumble into the back seat, and the hole got larger.  By the time I got home, this is what it looked like.

That hole originated just six inches behind my head.  I don't know if it was a sling shot, a bb gun, or what.  I haven't been able to find anything in my car to tell me what was shot at me.

Last night, I was in shock.  As my roommates said, I was "eerily" calm.  My heart was beating with palpable force, but to the outside observer, I was serene.  I called the police, filed a report, called my insurance agent, filed a claim, and calmly readied for bed.  I spoke with four different friends, assured them I was okay, then pulled the covers up, turned the lights out, and allowed myself a brief bout of tears of release.

This morning, I felt like I'd ridden a bad roller coaster.  My whole body ached as though I'd been violently shaken, and my head pounded with remnants of unshed tears.  I walked out to look at the car again, and felt sick at my stomach.  Six inches.

I made an appointment with the glass repair guys, sat down to drink my coffee and read my Bible.  Psalm 139.  "The dark is as light to you."  God knows as though it happened in broad daylight who stood on that curb and what they fired at me.  "You hem me in behind and before."  God chose the impact point.  He measured the inches.  All six of them.  "Every day ordained for me was written in your book before one of them came to be."  I woke up sore, shaky, but alive and well today because "This is the day the Lord has made."  I will rejoice and be glad in it. 

ALL the Time

I received some very good news today.

I've spent the better part of the last 4 weeks in and out of my doctor's office, having tests and waiting on results.  The last one felt like a big one simply because it was called a biopsy.  The doctor didn't really expect to find a malignancy in my body, but she had enough doubt to order it just in case.

Today the doctor called and said the words I'd been waiting to hear, "All clear."  The deep sigh of relief and the full breath I was able to inhale and exhale in the next moment were enormous.  I didn't even realize how tense I'd been until I felt my entire body relax.

I had so many people to share the good news with.  Delivering good news is so much fun, and it didn't take long for the replies to begin pouring in.  The most common being a joyous, "God is good!"  I smiled and laughed with every single one, feeling grateful and lighthearted and spoiled by so many loving friends.

When the third, "God is good!" arrived, I mentally finished the thought, "ALL the time." And that's when it hit me.  God is good.  All the time.

Had the doctor's news been different, had there been a malignancy, had I been facing a much more difficult journey this afternoon, God would still be good.

He is good on this path, and He would be good on that one, too.  My circumstances do not have any bearing on his character.  On his goodness or faithfulness or sovereignty.  He is always good, always faithful, and always in control.

Now, if only I could learn to live that way day in and day out!

This morning, I read from Philippians 4. This afternoon, Paul's words are all the more profound to me,  Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me. Philippians 4:11-13

God is good. All the time.