hi·a·tus

[hahy-ey-tuhs]

–noun, plural -tus·es, -tus.

1. a break or interruption in the continuity of a work, series, action, etc.
2. a missing part; gap or lacuna: Scholars attempted to account for the hiatus in the medieval manuscript.
3. any gap or opening...

Dear God, I thank You for these times when my own strength and energy wanes and I am driven to find my rest in You. I pray that You would direct my thoughts to those things that would honor You and serve those who You have blessed my life with. Thank You for Your tender and faithful mercies.

Glory

Reminisce

This week I have cooked and baked more than usual. Something about the blending of savory ingredients into a casserole, the mixing and shaping of cookie dough into loving bites of home, or the elaborate preparation of a once-a-year meal sends me into a nostalgic euphoria that lingers well into days. And I bask in remembrance.

The funny thing is I never thought of reminiscence as anything but pleasing and leisurely until I just looked up the definition. The word "indulge" beamed at me like a gentle pulsating light. Indulgence just makes the action seem uncontrolled and even sinful. Isn't it? When the calendar draws nearer to a special holiday like Thanksgiving or Christmas don't I pore over past menus and recipes smacking my lips at the sweet memories of culinary delights? Or when I think about the lazy hours spent outside sipping tea with the warm sun caressing my shoulders? Am I not indulging in something that seemed to feed and fill my spirit but, in the end, wouldn't last or sustain me? Allowing my thoughts to hearken back to glorious moments, even if were just moments ago, is not wrong in and of itself but wishing to return to those days or trying to recapture the joy of those experiences is silly and not going to happen. Instead I should be looking back with thanks for God's provision and mercy, knowing that He alone can feed and sustain my spirit.

My God, I thank You for the blessing of happiness shared and comforts enjoyed. Please forgive me for exalting moments and memories as greater than You intended and something to be sought after in place of communion with You. Fill the empty chalice of my heart with the living water of Your Word and let me feast on the bread of Your promises.

Glory

Lull

It happens in the middle of an ordinary day, a busy week, or a stress-filled month. It can last mere moments or it can drag on seemingly forever. It's never planned and always surprising. And, sometimes, if I take advantage of it I can allow the full beauty of it to hold me still and silent enough to hear its music.

There are impostors to true lull, ones that prey upon our complacency and the things that give us ease. I don't like to be still too long and boredom is an unwelcome distraction that drones in the background of the hours I journey through in the day. But the kind of lull that actually nurtures and settles is like the soft humming of the Holy Spirit that soothes and steadies my spirit. His voice so calmly reminds me to be thankful, to surrender, and to rest.

My God, I love the sweet gentle song of Your Spirit that You sing over me. Thank You for Your Word that reminds me to pause and allow myself to be carried by You in the safest of embraces. May I always be aware of Your voice that faithfully tells me that I belong to You and nothing and no one could ever remove me from Your hands.

Glory

Glimmer

There isn't a single patch of blue sky to be seen on this very windy Monday morning here in the Pacific NorthWest. Much like my heart, at times, gasping for hope and desperate for respite from the relentless pressures and strains of life, a heavy grey canopy hangs in a messy heap far above my reach. And then I see it, ever so briefly darting between tufts of vaporous clouds, faint but sure as mercy and love: a glimmer of light.

Why does my heart so quickly forget the kindness and care of my faithful Father who watches over all that I do and say? Do the cloudy days of monotonous tasks and responsibilities really overshadow my vision of a love that never lets me go? Are the storms of life so wild and menacing that the shelter of His wings tremble and ruffle amid the gusts and gales? Does the steady dripping rain so erode my faith that I struggle hard to believe that "whatever is good and perfect comes down to us from God our Father, who created all the lights in the heavens, that He never changes or casts a shifting shadow?" (James 1:17) NO! Because, even in the dark times and shadow-cast places of my heart there is a bright glimmer of His truth and righteousness that shines for all of life and eternity.

Dearest Lord, today I need Your light to shine into those dark and shadow-cast places of my heart. Show me where my faith has dimmed and flickered with the change-winds. I ask You to reveal the hope that is sure and abiding, that while I am yet a great sinner, You are indeed a great Savior and Your grace abounds to me every day.

Glory

Grace Model

Every day there is at least one thing that becomes a preoccupation that distracts me from right thinking and right doing. These pervasive thoughts may not always prevent me from serving my family and, most of the time, I don't waste energy or lose sleep over them either. Sometimes, I must wincingly admit, these attention grabbers chatter away in my head and are oh so difficult to pry myself away from so I end up doing something about it just to get on to the next thing. So, after long moments (hours?) staring at shabby nails and rough knuckles, I gave myself a manicure.

My hands, I like to believe, are instruments of service that God has given me to use for His honor. There is nothing exceptional about them, just to look at, but God has blessed my use of them in serving my family. My grip is strong and they are skilled for household duties and managing children. Just ask my kids! Even childhood foolishness (an axe incident, getting cut with broken glass) hasn't hindered my fingers' musical and artistic abilities. Still, they look and feel older than their 40 years of wear and tear should have caused. Wrinkles and creases, scars and callouses mar whatever beauty they may possess. And no amount of scrubbing, exfoliating, moisturizing, clipping, filing, buffing, or polishing can remove the layers of discipline, cleaning, holding, cradling, grasping, pushing, and clenching that have been laid on these hands. Models of physical beauty they will never be if they ever could have been. But, with God's mercy and strength, they can be models of love and kindness, humility and joy, and grace.

Dear Savior, I thank You for Your beautiful hands that healed and comforted the broken in body and spirit. Your hands touched the lives of so many who needed Your grace and forgiveness. By Your hands You performed astonishing miracles that would be told and retold for generations and centuries to come. Your strong and gentle fingers once wrote in the sand, a gesture that silenced the accusers of a sinful woman who could have just as easily been me. Your Word tells me that Your hands were bound and rendered physically powerless as You were led through the streets carrying Your cross that Your hands would soon be nailed fast to. Lord, my hands will never bear the marks of such a sacrifice as You have made but I sincerely pray that they display Your grace and love to those You have called me to serve. Let my hands be a model of Your tender care for the needs of those around me, that they would be used for Your honor alone, I pray.

Glory

Missed

Over the past Christmas holiday we visited family in our northern home. The snow was thick and the roads glazed with ice. There were a few serious crash sites that we passed, vehicles damged, rolled over, rooftops flattened. We prayed for everyone involved, like we faithfully do whenever we see accidents. We know it could easily be us because we remember when it was, almost 8 years ago.

When I learned of my Uncle Arnold's brain tumor that had returned and started to grow we tried to plan a visit on our way home. It would have to be quick as he was already tired and losing strength every day. The more we discussed it, however, the less likely it seemed that such a broad detour from our route homeward would be possible. Not knowing the roads and especially the weather it could be worse than when we'd come so we had to make the tough decision and stay our original course.

This morning my Uncle Arnold passed into eternity.

Dear God, if I missed Your prompting to see my Uncle when there was time I ask that You would forgive me for not going when I had the opportunity. I pray that Your presence would be close and a comfort to all those who are now grieving their own missed chances to hug him when his arms still worked, talk with him when he could still speak, sing with him when his voice was still clear and strong, laugh with him when his wit was still razor sharp, and pray with him when the blessed light of his life here was still burning brightly.

Glory

Choices

Our lives are replete with decisions to make. With such a multitude of options available it can feel overwhelming to ponder and pick the one that is the best for ourselves, for others, or even just at the present time. It can appear that our choices govern our moments and control our existence. This, in the clear light of a Sovereign God, is simply not true.

Granted, when we talk to our kids about being wise and discerning, especially our teenage daughter, we exaggerate the potential outcomes of their decisions. Scare tactics, maybe, but at times it serves to get our point across. So we discuss the ramifications of what we do with our time, our relationships, our food intake, our media influence, our leisure activities, our money, ad nauseum. It's little wonder, Mom and Dad, that shoulders droop, bodies shift, and eyes roll! As if our lectures and drills will have the desired impact on children that God intended for us to raise "in the fear and admonition of the Lord." Not in compliance with our wishes? Not in understanding of our values? Not in adherence to our beliefs? No. Sorry. That's what God said. I'll tell you right now my maternal instinct is rearing its ugly bed-head and shrieking, "I'm the boss!" Yeah. Nice try. All that has ever gotten me is the well-earned control-freak status.

Oh God, You are sovereign. You are in control of my outcome and that of our children. My decisions, which I truly desire to be in alignment with Your will, do not determine the ultimate destiny of myself or my children. You instruct me to train up our children in the way they are to go and when they are old they won't depart from it. Along with teaching them how to make smart and respectable choices I pray that they would also learn from my example how to completely trust You in yielding myself and all that I am to Your Lordship. Oh help in in this I earnestly pray!

Glory

Fog

Like a gossamer veil over trees and lawns. It's enchanting to look at and scary to drive through, not knowing exactly what's ahead.

This morning I awoke to fog and as I peer through it's sheer wonder I consider its properties. It's a moving vapor, a moist air mass that has cooled to dew point that forms in a layer near the ground. It reduces visibility and softens the appearance of objects. It can be very thin or heavy enough to cause dangerous situations.

Fog is still beautiful, though, in so many ways. One of my good husband's paintings by Thomas Kinkade is Creekside Trail which happens to be my favorite piece of art in our "vanity room" (the room that is easiest to bring into order). It looks like many of the trails our family has hiked in the nearby Cascade mountains. You can see a twist here, a rise there, and rugged spots in between. And there is fog. Lovely beguiling fog that entices the outdoorsman to travel further up ahead. Just barely revealing the scenery to come, fog lures us to go places that, had we known how far we would really go, we might have never made the attempt to reach.

Lord, I thank You for this wonderful surprise and adventure today that You have planned for me. I may not see clearly what is in store but I ask that Your blessed grace would be like a fog, only allowing me to see the outlines and forms of things to come, or I might never have the courage to move forward. Help me in these times to simply trust You and allow Your strong steady hand to guide me along. Because You are the bright lamp unto my feet and light unto my path.

Glory

Priority One

Tonight we gather whatever snacks are available, dress for comfort, and hustle everyone into the van to meet at our church for a movie night with other families.

We launched this colossal endeavor 6 months ago when the school supplies lists were being checked off, classes were registered for, and kids were picking out new clothes for their first day with classmates. It was a busy time and we could sense the strain tightening foreheads and wallets and after-school hours. Our family has been blessed that the head of our household's income and our lifestyle allows us to spend family time together often throughout the week but such is not the case for many families we know. So, making family the first priority of the month was something we believe was essential in setting the tone for the days and weeks to come. Schedules would be filled, commitments would be made, and responsibilities would demand time and attention from us that we could never get back. This was our vision and hope and it has been awesome to see God use it to bring families together and grow our church in fellowship.

God, thank you for this opportunity to be leaders in our homes and to our children, to show them how important family is to You and how to set time aside for togetherness and shared pleasure. Please help us to always guard our time and even monitor the threshold of busyness, knowing that sometimes You interrupt our plans to work in our lives, therefore ensuring that our energy for the truly important activities is preserved and readily available to do the thing that comes next.

Glory

Stuck

There is something so infernally wrong about seeing the sunlight pouring through our windows and pulsating between tree branches and feeling anxious and depressed. I know how it should make me feel to have the sun's warmth on my skin knowing that cholecalciferol (natural Vitamin D3) has unlimited potential to change my mood. Yet, for some reason, I am blue.

Reaching for the phone I call my good husband to ask outrageously if he could change his schedule to pick up our elementary student from school. The boys were warmer bodied than usual this morning and they have been exclaiming "ouch!" every time they sneeze and their coughing hasn't lessened. Dad is understanding and then asks me if anything else is wrong. I feel depressed, I tell him. There are things that a mom deals with when the oldest is making her own choices that are difficult to accept and I'm stuck here stressed and knowing I should be praying but instead I'm rehearsing conversations that will never happen. Her reasons are confusing and make me feel dizzy and clumsy when I try to respond in a way that reinforces my authority and shows that I'm the mature adult when in reality my own thinking hasn't advanced nerarly that far, most of the time. I feel childish and sulky and I struggle with the impulse to sit in a corner scowling at the floor.

Dear Lord, please help me to stop trying so hard to know more about Your plan and purpose for my family and my children than You have already shown me. You promise that the Words that You have spoken will do the work You have sent them to do. This gives me comfort and relief but at the same time it forces me to admit that I won't know everything that you're doing because I don't think like You do and I don't work like You do. This leaves me to accept that You are in control and my job is to surrender my will. Help me to remember this when I'm stuck in my attempts to be the one in charge.

Glory

Winded

Today I am trying to avoid posing questions to an empty room. The perfect solutions that I might seek simply do not exist.

Instead I make choices, the better of similarily bad decisions, taking sick children into the kind of blustery day that even Winnie the Pooh would have hidden away from behind honey pots. No raincoats or umbrellas, just a blanket tucked under bottoms and boots while Mommy pushes the jogging stroller through gusts and gales. All the while the carefully coiffed 2nd grader with the picture day payment in her backpack spits hair out of her mouth and wonders if her teacher will bring a comb or at least straighten the part above her freshly cut bangs. I'm more glad than ever that they were trimmed.

On the way home the traffic light is still green but the walking man ran away from the flashing red hand and I don't want my kids with coughs to be outside and blown about any longer than needed so I run across the street past the crossing guard who scolds me gently for my bad example, even though all he did was say, "Ah ah!" I explain to my kids that we need to hurry home.

So now I choose to listen to the trees shushing the world in this noisy library of a city. So much to learn about the decisions we make and the lessons are not as easy as we'd like. But I must study to show myself approved because it's windy out there and my heart needs to look more like our tall sturdy evergreen that hasn't fallen yet and we pray it never will.

God, sometimes I feel winded and breathless with the cold harsh realities that blast their way into my life. Help me, today, to be resolute and steadfast in all that You have called me to, knowing fully and believing that You give me the wisdom and grace I need to live for Your honor.

Glory

Jumbled Thoughts

Am I crazy?

There is no mental exercise that is so futile as trying to make sense of chaos. I am so prone to distraction. Even my good husband is forced to take my face in his hands to get my complete attention.

God, I so need You to order my thinking and untangle these strands of ideas, responsibilities, desires, memories.

Glory