Treasures in the Desert

{By Samantha Roose}

Recently, I have been reading “Hinds Feet on High Places.”  It’s a story of lame little Much-Afraid’s journey of faith in the Shepherd.  Shepherd has promised to take her to the High Places and on the way give her the feet of a deer.  After traveling several days the path turns, taking Much-Afraid down into a desert dashing her hopes—Shepherd had promised to take her to the High Places!  Exploring this book, yet again, I have found many similarities to my own journey with my Lord and Shepherd. 


The Lord has been revealing to me how much of my identity I find in having control (which is, I’m afraid, quite a bit).  Faithfully and gently, He has been bringing me to a spot of humble surrender, trust and reliance to Him.  It's hard because, like Much-Afraid, I feel that God is taking me down into a desert valley when He had promised that He would take me up.  I cannot see how this scorching plain with a few random and awkward pyramids is taking me to the promised place.  I can't see the end of this desolate and uncomfortable path.  Everything within me wants to run up the precipice despite the jagged impossibilities.  My heart cries and I wonder how long I can continue to look this way. 

It's then that He takes my hand and promises that this is not contradicting His promise in the slightest way.  How could someone as faithful as He go back on His word?  No, it is merely a postponement to teach me what I would otherwise be ignorant of forever.  Although my heart shrinks from this indefinite postponement, something within me breaks and I hear myself saying, "I will follow you, Shepherd, you have every right to choose the way that I should go no matter how backwards it seems." 

So we descend.  At first I cannot believe that I am actually, of my own free will, allowing myself to be taken so far away from my greatest dream and desire--the one hope I have clung to for so many years.  Suddenly I realize that we have entered the desert and I am surprise at our speed.  But I should not have been; it cannot be any less when I am relying on my Savior, who knows the way so well.

Once in the desert He leads me to the looming pyramids.  I follow Him inside grateful for His strong reassuring presence.  First He shows me where the wheat is prepared for making bread.  Each grain is bruised and beaten.  However, I find that they are not beaten forever.  As I watch more closely I am surprised to find that each variety of grain is ground in different methods according to its purpose.  Turning to me my Lord says, "in the same way you will not endure hardship and beatings forever, only for a time so that you can fulfill My highest purpose for your life.  And, just as each grain is ground in its own way so your beatings are not random, but specific because I know the things you need to be prepared for."

Entering another room my eyes fall upon a potter.  In his hands is a lump of clay.  I watch him cut it, knead it and finally shape it.  But as I am transfixed on the clever transformation I notice that the, now clay vessel was molded according to the potters desires, not the clay's whims.  "Can I not do with you as this potter does to this clay?"  My Lord asks placing His strong hand on my shoulder.  "Am I not as skilled as this craftsmen?" 

Gently leaning against His side I nod.  Words cannot express my welling emotions and swirling thoughts.  Besides, if I open my mouth I am likely to cry and who knows when I will be able to regain my composure.

My tour is not completed yet.  Opening the door for me, my Lord leads me into a large glowing room illuminated by a furnace.  Here gold is purified and dross is removed, but that is not all.  As I watch, crusty rough and seemingly invaluable stones are thrust into the scorching flames.  Awestruck I find that they are removed as sparkling precious gems, flashing as though they had received the fire into their souls.  How my heart pounds to be like those ugly rocks, transformed by intense fire. 

Interrupting my thoughts I hear His voice, "this is where I purify and prepare My rarest and most precious jewels."  And He leads me out.

Our pace is slow and thoughtful.  There is nothing to break the silence between us except the wind which stirs up and occasional flurry of sand as proof of its existence. Still I cannot see a horizon or any promise that this desert detour will somehow lead me to the hoped for promise, but my heart has become peaceful and content here.  I cannot endure indefinite postponement, beatings and bruising, cuttings and kneading, chiseling and fire unless there is hope for something better.  Surprisingly, that is the exact mystery which my Lord has revealed to me in this desolate desert—my heart is ready to follow.

My Lord enters the tent and I linger outside.  Although ready to follow my heart is still a swirl of emotions and thoughts as vast and tumultuous as a stormy sea.  Walking around the tent I catch the slightest glimpse of a color.  As I kneel I feel the warm sand scatter beneath me creating perfectly shaped cups for my knees.  Brightly and courageously stands a single flower.  I marvel at her willingness to live in such a place where there is no assurance of the next rain, yet she cheerfully stands confident that the One who planted her here will provide whatever she needs in due time. 

Acceptance with Joy is her name.  Sitting back on my heels I sigh and look up to the sky.  Tears travel down my face and a gentle breeze hits plays with my hair.  Can I not be as this flower, Acceptance with Joy?  Who am I to think that my Savior, my Shepherd and my Lord does not know what He is doing.  If the flower can bloom so joyfully and faithfully with no hope of rain, can I not delight in this desert while walking through it with my Shepherd?   Resolving to become Acceptance with Joy, I bend forward and take in the scent of this rare flower which has given me so much hope, etching its memory in my mind.

Ducking beneath the flaps of the tent I glimpse my Lord sitting but looking as if He had been watching and waiting for me.  I sit down close to Him amongst His pile blankets and pillows.  Meekly I begin, placing my hand on His great big one and looking up into His face, "I will trust You my Lord.  I will follow You.  Lead me where You would have me go as long as You choose.  I love You and trust You." 

My eyes begin to glisten as I let go of MY hopes and MY dreams.  I do love and trust Him.  Smiling feebly I finish, "I am Your handmaiden, Acceptance with Joy."

Gently, He reaches out and pulls my head to lie on His shoulder.  All is quiet for a time.  Then in His still small voice He spoke words I will never forget, "The trust in your eyes is the most beautiful thing on earth.  Beholding the trust in your eyes is more beautiful and precious to me than the loveliness of many queens."

I am unsure of what has happened since that time which is probably due to the fact that I am still in the desert and have yet to journey out of it.  But this I know: it is not nearly as desolate now as when I first entered.  Although the desert valley may appear ugly and foreboding to many, it has become a treasure chest to me.  I love being grown and changed by my Lord even when it hurts, because I am confident and secure in the fact that He IS faithful and will not give me more than I can handle.            

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That Saved A Realist Like Me

{By Hailey Sadler}

The whole “is-the-glass-half-empty-or-half-full” dilemma sort of confused me as a child. When posed with it, I would always answer “half full” because that seemed to be the right answer. Anyway it seemed like the better, happier option compared to being labeled a pessimist, which always conjured up images of wet blankets and bitter old men. Secretly, though, my water-in-the-cup philosophy is more along the lines of, Ok, we’ve established that there is water in a cup, now can we please move on??

I guess I could be considered somewhat of a realist.

An interesting term, “realist” usually just means a cynic or pessimist who enjoys patting themselves on the back for the pleasing ability to accurately perceive objective reality. Poor, deluded optimists and idealists, they sniff. Yes, realists can be really obnoxious [see picture to the right!]. But that is not the point. The point is they are right. Reality is depressing, and if you view the world from a realist perspective you quickly become closely akin to the cynic and the pessimist for that very reason. Because what is reality? Reality is truth.

And the truth of our world does not tend towards the encouragement of optimism.

The truth is Americans who are obese [approximately 1 in 3 children in the U.S. are obese] and Nigerians who are malnourished [there are 5.75 million underweight children in Nigeria]; the truth is sickening injustices that create multitudes of “causes” and less action, chaos and turmoil, governmental abuse, corruption, economic uncertainty. The truth is culture that is seriously messed up in so many ways. It’s a world where the GDP of the 48 poorest nations is less than the combined wealth of the world’s 3 richest people. It’s a world of red lights when you want to text and Facebook statuses that make you want to cry (or gag) because of the sheer narcissism. As Big Daddy from Cat on a Hot Tin Roof would say, “The truth is pain and sweat and payin’ bills…. Truth is dreams that don’t come true, and nobody prints your name in the paper ‘til you die.”

If that was all there is to it, I think my tendency towards “realism” would make me want to pour a pack of Kool-Aid in that half-full-half-empty glass and be done with it.

But that is only one dimension of reality.

Because what is reality? Reality is Truth. Truth is the thread weaving this tangled mess we call reality into a perfect product God calls His plan. The Truth is that there is something higher than this world, bigger than all the evil, greater than ourselves, something we only snatch glimpses of, a breath of light when the clouds shift, and parting, for a moment we catch sight of heaven. It is the reality of a higher reality: God Who sees purpose where we see only pointless pain, God Who wrote the end of the story for us all to read, and Who is coming back. For us.

It is that that makes the stark circumstances of this world around me bearable. Even more than that, it makes life fully worth living, if only to catch those occasional glimpses of that higher reality, higher Truth that dovetails and completes the truth we know and weaves us all together – pessimist, realist, optimist, idealist – in His incomprehensively perfect plan. 

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound. 

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How Our (Future) Children View God - President or Best Friend?

{by Rebekah Kimminau}

A few months ago I was reading an article on teaching your children the catechism. It was talking about having your children from a young age start memorizing the catechism. (For those of you who don't know what a catechism is, it is a small book full of truth's about God, from the bible. Things such as: "Who is God's Son? Jesus." "Who created the world? God." "In how many days? 7.")

After reading the article I got to thinking about how I was hoping to have my (future) children someday do this. A few days ago, God brought the thoughts back into my mind. As I was pondering them, I had a great realization from God. I realized that there were two ways I could show God to my children. As if He was the President, or as if He was their best friend. 

When you get to thinking about it, the president does have a smilar role as God. He is there to lead and protect our nation, just as God is put in place to lead and protect us.  He sets up rules and laws for the betterment of the nation. Just as God set out laws in the bible for the betterment of us. 

But then you get to thinking, what does the president look like from a child's point of view. He looks like the guy who is way "up there". Though they know He exists, they also know they will probably never get a chance to meet him. He is the guy who's name they memorize is school along with what number president he is. So from their point of view, he is a guy who lives and breathes on the same planet as them (as well as lives in the same country), but has not much else to do with them.

Now let's see how a best friend is similar to God. A best friend (at least any of the one's I have had) would do just about anything to protect. They love you with passion, and are the people who are always available when you need them. (the president, on the other hand, may take a while for you to reach should you want to talk to him ;) A best friend is there for you because they LOVE you. Not because they are called by their "oath of office" to serve and protect you.

So which way do I want my (future) children to view God? As someone who they memorize facts about, or someone they can talk to anytime they would like. Defiantly, the latter. I believe teaching your (future) children from a young age that God is always going to be there for them, and always going to love them, no matter what, will give them a huge jump start in the relationship with Him. If when they think of God, they immediately think of someone that they can run to when troubles come, they can rely on when things around them fall apart, (just like I would say about my best friend) then they will have a wonderful start to their walk with the Lord.

p.s. This is not only wonderful ideas to teach your (future) children, but also great ideas to apply in your personal walk with God.

About Rebekah: I am a 17 year old girl who, strives everyday to live for the Lord. I don’t always live in Him, but I try. I have been home schooled all of my life, and I am an Air Force Brat. I have move 9 times in my life. I am the oldest of four, and I absolutely adore my family. I have had a passion for babies and children ever since I was little, and I spend most of my time babysitting. I currently live in the DC area.

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May Your Christmas be Merry and White and Bright [With Sugar Plums and Jingle Bells and Herald Angels] Oh, and Joy to the World!

{by Hailey Sadler}
It's kind of a pity about Christmas.

I mean, there are some things I definitely LOVE about Christmas: family traditions, picking out a perfect tree, the excuse to eat lot’s of cookies and drink things like salted caramel lattes and egg nog and Chic-Fil-A peppermint milkshakes [the best!]. And presents. I love presents.

But the pity about Christmas is inherent to the very nature of its celebration. It comes every year. We sing about it. Preach about it. Send cards because of it. [Each sporting pretty much the same twelve words just in different combinations.] We shop and watch movies and have parties because of it. For like a solid month. The pity about Christmas is that it has become so common. It has become so typical, so everyday, that I can sit in a church pew and listen to someone read the words, recorded in ancient times and passed down for generations, of the mind-blowing, world-shattering, reality-shifting, Christmas story and instead of being amazed I look at the preacher standing up to speak and think, “Ok, how is he going to make this interesting?” How could truth such as God Himself came to earth in the form of a little human baby to save the world from sin have become cliché? But it has.

It’s sad. That honestly the most monumental event in history [second only to the resurrection, basically] sometimes seems, if we admit it, kind of …boring now. Not surprising, anymore. Sometimes I wish I could hear the story for the first time again, or see it from someone’s eyes that were there when it happened, the unheard of, for the first time. 

I like to think of the shepherds, because unlike Mary and Joseph [who had been preparing their minds since the angels visits] or the wise men [who had been traveling along time, which always takes some of the excitement out of things… think long car ride...] the shepherds heard about it for the very first time in a burst of glory the very night it happened. [Or at least I like to imagine it that way, I know Biblical scholars can argue otherwise.]

But, outside of a Christmas pageant [and maybe not even then... I always had to be an angel] I doubt I’m going to get the shepherd experience. So we can do what we can, try read the story over with fresh eyes, glimpse the wonder, ask God to create a shepherd's experience in our hearts, and wrap our minds around the scope of the event that Christians now call Christmas. And then be grateful. Because whether or not the Christmas story seems cliche, it still changes our world, our lives, and our entire reality. Which is pretty cool, when you stop to think about it.

Now put that on a Christmas card.

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All I Want for Christmas is You

{by Rachel Coker}

So, it’s that time of year. Wherever you go all you can hear playing are bad remakes of classic Christmas songs. Like Justin Bieber or Jessica Simpson singing “Silent Night”. This kind of annoys me, but I manage to tolerate it for 25 out of 365 days, for the sake of “Christmas joy”.

At the risk of sounding like some kind of unsentimental freak, I have to admit that my favorite Christmas album is Mariah Carey’s. Yes, more than Perry Como and Bing Crosby. There’s just something about her music that makes me want to jump around and throw stuff onto the tree because I’m just so full of yuletide joy. Yeah, it’s weird.

Anyway, the other day I was listening to her song “All I Want for Christmas Is You” on my computer. I was singing along quietly (so that my family can’t hear my off-key attempts at the high notes), when suddenly it dawned on me: I only want one person for Christmas too. And that is Jesus Christ. (Albeit, I could probably also add a small handful of good looking actors, but I’ll keep them out of this for now…)

The more I mulled over this thought, the clearer it became to me that all I want for Christmas is HIM. I don’t need presents to make me happy this Christmas. Or snow, or stockings, or mistletoe. I definitely don’t need some prince charming to come in and sweep me off my feet, filling me with holiday joy and warm fuzzy feelings. All I really desire is to be filled with the love and joy of Christ.

Even though Christmas is a Christian holiday, I think it is the hands-down easiest holiday to forget about Christ on. There’s so much going on that can distract us from what this season is really about. We run around and waste time on silly things that we wrongly think are important. We get hung up, like Mariah Carey, on thinking selfishly about what and who we want this year. But all we should really want is Christ.

Christmas isn’t a time for greed and business. It’s a time for slowing down and getting back to the basic truth of Christianity: desiring God. Wanting to know Him and be near to Him, and being thankful for what He did for us. Because, if you think about it, His salvation is the only gift we can know for sure we can get this year, no matter how naughty we’ve been! ;)

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A Time to Chill

{by Hailey Sadler}

Well hello again.

It’s been a while, my dear readers. And if it feels like a while to you since anything’s happened on here, believe me it feels even longer to me because for most of that time I was without my baby uh, computer. :)

After my computer failed me [well, to be honest, it wasn’t entirely its fault… ] I had a choice. I could either panic, freak out, and become desperately depressed or just shrug and see how the ride goes. So what did I choose to do? Panic, freak out, and become desperately depressed of course. However, it was for an admirably short period time, because when it sank in how wholly beyond my control the situation was [besides calling the repair store an average of twice a day] I decided on the just-go-for-the-ride attitude.

I recommend that approach.

It is pretty obvious that there’s a lot in life we can’t control. Geniuses that we are, though, we can’t seem to fully comprehend this and expend extravagant amounts of energy, effort, and emotion on circumstances and events beyond the scope of our power. Sometimes this energy and anxiety expending habit is productive and positive. But sometimes… we just need to chill.

Now, I’m not saying don’t be a fabulous forward thinking, initiative taking, go-getter or anything positive and admirable like that. [Please, be my guest.] It’s just that I think sometimes we can benefit from prying our clenched, white-knuckled fingers off the steering wheel and kicking back in the passenger seat for a little while. Just seeing how the ride goes. Where it takes us.

My favorite rollercoaster at Busch Gardens, if I could decide on a favorite rollercoaster, would probably be the Griffin, where you hang facedown, suspended over 200’ in the air for several long seconds before the 90-degree drop. It’s such a cool moment, hanging there. You’re strapped in. You can’t go anywhere [even though your sister may be screaming at you to help get her out of here]. And you’re about to go on a wild ride. To quote Rapunzel from Tangled, “Struggling is pointless.” [Yes, I’ve seen that movie about twice per little sister I have.] So why not just walk the journey out and see where it takes you? There’s freedom in letting go of your grasping desire to micromanage and finding security in knowing God is at the controls [which is infinitely more comforting than the teenager who looks like it might be his first time running this thing] so you can just hang on for the ride.

Yes, there are times when mapping out the future, and frantically poring over the map to find where your next turn is in this mess of directions, is the way to go. We've all done it; sometimes it needs to be done. But on occasion, the most productive course of action is putting your feet up on the dashboard and cranking up some Johnny Cash. [...Or whatever you listen to if you aren’t enlightened enough to swear blind devotion to the Man in Black]. It's handing over to God the directions, the map, the wheel, the course, the whole nine yards, and saying "I'm game. Take me where You will."

Sometimes, for all our good intentions, we need to just relax. And enjoy the ride.

At least, that’s my opinion.

What do you think?

~Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, Bible in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming, "WOO HOO what a ride!" ~ 

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Shooting Stars, Gumball Machines, and Greater Things ((Or, I Could Really Use a Wish Right Now))

{by Hailey Sadler}

I have to say, I’ve never wished on a star… shooting or otherwise.

Because frankly, the cynical, practical side of my nature probably wouldn’t let me; it would laugh me out of it. [If you don’t have a dominating cynical, practical side and can’t relate to this… congratulations! You can do any wholly illogical, romantic thing without that inner sarcastic voice annoying you.] But sometimes, practical or not, all I want is a star to fall out of the sky and make the world right.

So, when in need of a wish [or three] to be granted me, I turn to the more ‘holy’ version of wishing on a star. I pray. I cry out to God. But I’m not really crying out to Him, as a Person, my personal and knowing Savior, as a loving Father who delights in giving His children every good and perfect gift. Instead, I’m wanting to use a sort of Divine Gumball Machine where I stick in my prayer, turn the handle, and out comes the result I want.  My reaching out to Him is not in desire for a relationship or for Him as a Person, it’s more the can-I-please-have-this-like-right-now kind of prayer. Sometimes it feels as vague and faraway and improbable as whispering a wish to the night sky. At times like these, I’m not looking for God; all I really want is a holy shooting star to wish on.

At least that is what I think I want. But sometimes what you feel like you want and what you’re really crying out for from the innermost depths of your being can be two different things entirely. I ask for help in doing my best on a test. I ask for strength in finishing a (fast) race. I ask for that really adorable coat to still be there when I come back next week with my wallet. I want things, I want results, I want answers. Yet that is not all. Beneath the craving for all these external fulfillments, my heart is really crying out for something bigger, something greater, something higher to fill up its hungry, searching depths. Or rather not something but Someone. Is it possible that even if that Divine Gumball Machine were a reality and I could push in prayers like quarters that that would not satisfy me? That maybe while I’m impatiently requesting a minor or tangible change in my reality that what I really want is fulfillment in the beyond-tangible Author of that reality?

I think yes.

“If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” – C.S. Lewis

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Shadows and Diamond Days

If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be without meaning. – C.S. Lewis

Some days are diamonds

On those days, life is just GOOD 

But some days there is so much gray...

...it's hard to see through the fog

But even in the shadows

There is a light...

look for that Light.

photography credit: Hailey Sadler

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Insecurity, Authenticity, and a One-Size-Fits-All Halo

{by Hailey Sadler}

There are lots of good things to hide behind.

I was very young when I learned this important fact of life. Things like doors, sofas, or rows of clothes in the depths of a closet if you didn’t mind the smothering sensation of choking on the smell of shoes. These things came in handy if hide-and-seek was the name of the game, or you wanted to scare an unsuspecting sister into screeching. [Not that I ever did that; I was a model child.] The funny thing is, I still look around and see there a lot of good things that we use to hide behind. Things like make-up…school work…a packed social life…or spirituality...

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Please Don't Call Me Religious

{by Hailey Sadler}

I was examining the many different hairstyles belonging to the heads in front of me. And listening to the speaker. But mostly examining the hair. I was at the college Bible study I’ve been going to and the speaker was delving into how to get Christ’s “living water” in your life: through spending time with Him and in His word. When he said this, I sat up a little straighter and nodded my head in self-righteous agreement: yep listen up, kids, what he’s saying is absolutely true and the very core of the Christian life! Just kidding, I still slouched some in my chair. But mentally I sat up straighter and nodded my head in self-righteous agreement. After all, I know this. Then the deflating thought came to me… but do I do it? Do I pursue that relationship with Christ as if it matters even close to as much as the other relationships in my life? Or the other goals, things, and activities?

Thinking about this reminded me of when someone described me as a “religious” person. I decided I didn’t like it. Not only does it sound kind of weird, it is unfactual. Because, for one thing, I am not a religious person.


Being "religious" implies that you believe in a religion. And I don't. At least not as "religion" is typically used. Religion is about rules, action on the part of the mortal in order to gain the favor of some Immortal being or a spot in some immortal paradise. Believing in Jesus is about grace, action on the part of the Immortal God in order to bring that mortal freely into the favor of the Father and secure him a place in His presence both now and forever. Above all, I believe in a relationship. That is the epicenter of Christianity and what differentiates it from all other religions of this world.

However… when, intentionally or not, we treat Christianity as just a religion, as a set of rules to follow, or certain standards for our lives, if we treat it as just motions to go through, if we lose sight of the relationship, then it does, in fact, become merely a religion. Because a relationship with God is not only central to Christianity, it is Christianity.

So that makes the question, are you making time for developing that relationship with Jesus, with the God who took action for you when you didn’t even know you needed Him to? Are you investing your whole soul and being into knowing this Person? Or are you just going through the motions of Christianity, content to treat what is meant to be the most dynamic and fulfilling relationship you could ever imagine… as solely a religion?

I’m talking to me. Because right now, in the middle of the craziness of the school year, I find it super easy to fall away from any sort of commitment to investing time in intentionally seeking this God who truly surprises me with His love for me. I follow the rules but I forget the relationship. The relationship, which is the very core of what I believe and without which “the rules” are meaningless platitudes rather than natural outpourings of a life bound up in Him.

It’s not enough for us to sit and nod our heads and agree. We have to actually get up, reorganize our lives, and pursue that relationship. So that’s what I want to do. I don’t want to keep on just going through the motions when there is something so much better available to experience. Even if it means cutting out things I love to do (like stay up late or sleep in) I want a relationship not just a religion.

So please don’t call me religious.

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A Note to the Guys and the Grown-Ups :)

We’ve heard from some of you, surreptitiously perusing these pages… You've told us how you've enjoyed what you read and how cool you think this is.

And so we want to say, to any of you adults or guys who have happened upon this blog:

Although this is written primarily by teenage and 20-something girls, we’re thrilled for you to browse and follow and especially to comment sharing your thoughts, perspective, or wisdom on the issues we talk about. Honestly, we’d love to hear from you. So don’t be shy. And you don’t always have to be anonymous :)

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Learning to Give Thanks at the Waters of Marah {Part 2}

{by Katrina Rebsch}

As the days continued to pass, as wise counsel was shared by my parents, and the Word of God proved itself beautifully alive to speak to the depths of my soul, my feelings of utter despondency turned to feelings of utter conviction.  Yes, it’s true that I had walked into challenging circumstances and probably faced enemy opposition as well.  But I was also being just plain selfish.  I realized I had an attitude that seemed to say, “Oh, well, I’ll go to a foreign country to serve the least of these children but only if there’s running water at all times, and if the kids are well behaved, and if living conditions are acceptable to my standards.”

Patiently, lovingly, God began to show me that the poured-out life means being like Jesus Christ who “made Himself of no reputation but took upon Him the form of a servant.” 

It means showing love for Him by “feeding His lambs.” 

It means, in a practical sense, cleaning filthy bathrooms and vomit and diarrhea, patiently administering discipline to a stubborn six-year-old for the better part of an afternoon, and living cheerfully with clutter and disorder until organization can be given. 

It means heating buckets of water and lugging them upstairs to give baths to a dozen children when the water tank runs out, even if it takes four hours to get the job done. 

It means getting up at the crack of dawn to help children get ready for school and working until late at night when one is sick and needs a comforting mommy. 

It means patiently laboring with a seven-year-old over her homework when she is frustrated and both of you want to throw the book out the window. 

It means giving thanks for rice and potatoes for the 127th time because it is economic and filling. 

It means doing laundry and washing dishes with joy all day everyday because you know such actions are contributing to the health and well-being of 14 precious children. 

It means taking time to push a little one on the swing in the backyard when you have thirty other chores clamoring for your attention but you are working hard to be relationship-oriented vs. task oriented. 

It means letting them kiss you with sloppy, wet kisses and hug you till the air leaves because “the greatest of these is love.” 

Yes, the poured out life is not easy - and sometimes looks rosier in the pages of missionary biographies than in the nitty-gritty of real life - but as I am learning like so many others who have gone before, it IS worth every hardship. 

Now, two months later, I can honestly say that as God has been “proving” me at my own waters of Marah (Exodus 15), the bitter has turned to sweet.  Have my circumstances changed?  A few.  By God’s grace, I have been able to bring about some positive changes in the house I am living in that have contributed to better sanitary conditions and much-needed orderliness.  And with time, as relationships have been built, authority established, and routine re-implemented, the children’s behavior has greatly improved from those first few days I was here when many factors in their lives were rather topsy-turvy.  But more than a change in circumstances, there has been a change in me.  Gently, and with the strength and dignity so characteristic of His nature, God has been doing a work, shaping, molding, refining.

One of the most significant lessons He has been teaching me can be summed up in the word thanksgiving.  A sacrifice the Bible calls it (Psalm 107:22).  And now I better understand what that means.  It’s a sacrifice to give thanks when you just want to give up.  To look for beauty when all you can see is mess.  To count your blessings when you just want to count the reasons people should pity you. 

I began reading a book called One Thousand Gifts, and as its artfully-crafted words poignantly captured the very sentiments of my own heart and inspired me to live fully in the moment, so, too, did the Word of God suddenly come alive with proclamations about the thankfulness I was learning to cultivate.  “Serve the Lord with gladness...enter His gates with thanksgiving...be thankful unto Him.”  (Psalm 100:2, 4)  “Praise ye the Lord.  O give thanks unto the Lord for He is good: for His mercy endureth forever.” (Psalm 106:1)  “Strengthened with all might , according to His glorious power, unto all patience and longsuffering with joyfulness; giving thanks unto the Father.” (Colossians 1:11-12)

My journal began to fill up with these nuggets, these valuable reminders to live thankful.  It also began to fill up with lists of the daily gifts I was learning to notice that beautified my days and pointed my focus to the Giver of such wonders. 

Snow on the mountains

Soothing music

Running water

Echinacea cough drops

Soft lamplight

Bedtime prayers

Juicy apples

Encouraging emails from friends and family far away

The smell of roses

A nail through the shoe of one little boy that did not penetrate his foot

Delicious meat-filled empanadas

Sweet baby smiles

Just enough yogurt to go around for breakfast

Dancing in a circle with happy children

The privilege of washing dishes and scrubbing bathrooms

Socks that match

A warm welcome amongst the Bolivian women with whom I work

Fluffy white clouds against a blue sky

Precious kiddo hugs and kisses

Simple things really.  But so very big in the scope of daily life.  Ann Voskamp, the author of One Thousand Gifts states, 

“I had never really learned the language of 'thanks in all things'!  Though pastors preached it, I still came home and griped on.  I had never practiced.  Practiced until it became second nature...Practice is the hardest part of learning, and training is the essence of transformation...Do not disdain the small.  The whole of life - even the hard - is made up of the minute parts, and if I miss the infinitesimals, I miss the whole...There is a way to live the big of giving thanks in all things.  It is this: to give thanks in this one small thing.  The moments will add up.  I, too, had read it often, the oft-quoted verse: 'And give thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ' (Ephesians 5:20).  And I, too, would nod and say straight-faced, 'I’m thankful for everything.'  But in this counting gifts, to one thousand, more, I discover that slapping a sloppy brush of thanksgiving over everything in my life leaves me deeply thankful for very few things in my life...Life-changing gratitude does not fasten to a life unless nailed through with one very specific nail at a time.”

**********

As I try to picture those of you reading this article, I wonder if you, too, feel like you are standing on the banks of Marah, tasting bitterness in your life and longing instead for sweetness.  I do not know what kind of trials, challenges, or broken dreams you might be experiencing.  But I do know this: no matter how tough life may seem right now, there are always things for which to give thanks, gifts of beauty from the hand of the Lord that fill each day...if we will just take the time to see them.  And in the process of being obedient, of making the sacrifice of thanksgiving, miracles happen.  Sweetness comes.

May the Word of God fill you up as you live poured out for Him...with a heart that gives thanks.

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Life Isn't Measured By the Breaths You Take...

A man can no more diminish God's glory by refusing to worship Him 
than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word 'darkness' on the 
walls of his cell. — C.S. Lewis

Sometimes the beauty

 of this world

takes my breath away...

...it makes me wonder about it's Maker

I cant wait to see what He’s like.

photography credit: Hailey Sadler

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