What God looks like to me.

I bedded down by the wood stove last night, cozy in my sleeping bag while the temperatures dropped to the single digits.

Spending New Years with my sister-in-law's family in Central Oregon has been a great adventure so far. Spontaneous and testing the limits of my flexibility, but fun and adventurous at the same time.

I woke up to my brother coming in, stoking the fire and putting his infant daughter back to sleep in front of the stove.

I stirred in my cocoon and we visited as he watched his baby sleep - checking to make sure she was warm enough, admiring her, comforting her if she squirmed - and again I was reminded of God as a father.

"He who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, He who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep... The Lord will keep you from harm - He will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore."

Things that matter this morning

I crept into the quiet dining room this morning, presumably to burn through some pages in the book I'm supposed to finish before I start a class I've signed up for, but my keyboard was calling to me like an old friend.

By the time I had fixed myself a cup of tea, contemplated whether all of the water outside was "raining," "falling" or just "drizzling," and had booted up my computer, the book was far out of my mind.

I've missed taking the time to search out what's on my heart and put it into words.  You know, I think it's healthy for me, in a way, to dredge down to the bottom, to sit in solitude with only my thoughts and the clicking of the keys, to open up the doors of my mind and explore the ideas and insights that I don't normally have the time or energy to pursue.  To know what's going on in my heart.

I keep telling myself that I'm way too busy most of the time.  Too busy to pursue my relationship with Christ.  Too busy to invest in my little sisters who are growing up so fast.  Too busy to sit and listen to my dad when he's exploring new ideas and insights.  Too busy to chat on the phone with a friend and catch up on what God's been doing in her life.

I did a mental review to see just what it was that I've been to busy with, and my automatic defensive answer was that I've been too busy with....life.

This morning I gave that answer some objective thought only to realize that these very things I've been too busy for - they are LIFE.  These are the most vital aspects of life, these relationships; with my Savior, with my sisters, my brothers, with my dad and mom, with my sweet friends - these are the pulse and purpose of my life here.

The shower just shut off indicating that my quiet time is up.  The studying will have to happen later, maybe with headphones on.  Right now I have a life to live.

Edit:  Learning new things is life too, and should not be discounted.  I think the idea here is for me to find a balance between the two; not shutting out the people so that I can learn more about... people, and not shutting out the investment into the future so that I can invest more in the present. =)

Of quiet reflections in a bustling household

The bustle of breakfast greeted my ears when I stepped into the kitchen this morning. I'd been looking forward to some quiet reflective moments over a cup of coffee from the time I first opened my eyes, so the fourteen plus people gathered around engaging in fourteen plus conversations took half a minute to get used to.

As always, the conversations were too intriguing for me to tune out completely, and before I was totally swept away, I found myself thanking the Lord for giving me what I didn't even realize I needed.

His gifts to me are so far above and beyond what I think I need or want, but they're the perfect fit for me every time.

I'm so grateful for a Father who knows me better than I know myself; who gives me exactly what I need before I ask.

For the sister who cooked breakfast for me.

For Dad, who offered to put eye drops on my irritated eye, because I was too chicken to do it myself.

For my little sister who makes a great pot of coffee.

For my not-so-little-anymore brother who sets an awesome example for me in his attitude towards life, in the way he lets grievances roll off his back.

For my nieces and nephew, and the smiles they constantly bring to all of our faces.

And I'm going to have to start getting up earlier than I have been lately if I'm going to have that quiet cup of coffee.

Home sweet home

Ah, where can I start?  I've  been on sensory overload for the last week.  It's hard to believe that it's only been a week since we packed up the little Jetta, piled in and headed out on the extended road trip that brought us home in time for Thanksgiving.

Home to little sisters, running out to greet us with bear hugs.
Home to lights shining cheerfully, beckoning us in.
Home to a delicious dinner that had been saved for us travelers.
Home to Dad and Mom and all thirteen of my siblings, my siblings' spouses and their kids.

Laughs and hugs all around, stories from the road, pictures to be shared, memories to be recounted.  Peace and warmth and love and then a whole slew of work to be done in preparation for the forty-two guests at the Thanksgiving table.

Ironing table cloths and folding napkins became a game.  Mountains of dishes a challenge.  Music and harmonies seeping out every corner of the house, sometimes even the same song at the same time in the same key!

Windows were washed, food prepared and consumed, floors swept and vacuumed and swept again.

And then came the phone call, announcing that our sister-in-love was in labor. 

Thanksgiving for family, and all that the word means.
Thanksgiving for the opportunity to be witness to the miracle of my newest niece's birth.
Thanksgiving for Jesus, loving me in spite of myself.
Thanksgiving for the awe and wonder of life here on this earth.  And I'm told that Heaven is even better than this!

"I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet simple things of life which are the real ones after all."  Laura Ingalls Wilder

I'm beginning to learn that she is right.

Time

It's daylight savings day, so naturally time is the subject on my mind.

The clock in the kitchen is ticking away, marching on in a steady rhythm. The house is quiet, and I'm settled in next to the faux fireplace with a cup of coffee and my bible and journal. I realized just then how I've missed this.

I start writing in my journal, taking in the beauty of the quiet morning, grateful to be experiencing it.

#down comforters
#wood stoves
#rainy days
#morning quiet

"How long has it been?". The question crossed my consciousness like a whisper. "How long since you've risen before you absolutely had to on purpose?"

#soft promptings to get me out of bed
#open conversations with the other baristas at the coffee shop.

Being thankful for the conversation about valuing quiet time that I had yesterday reminded me of the conversation I had earlier in the week with another girl who doesn't believe; mostly because all of the Christians she knows are total hypocrites.

For some reason, I couldn't get that conversation out of my head. I kept playing it back, wondering if I said enough or too much, praying that she would see Jesus in my life.

I claim to be a person who seeks and follows Christ, who has a personal relationship with Him; but truthfully, that relationship has not been my priority. Entertaining myself, keeping busy and getting "enough" sleep have been on the top of my list.

"Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."

This quiet whisper was really starting to interrupt my solitude, so I thought I'd better give some thought to figure out what it was all about.

My time is the single most valuable thing that I possess . (And who really possesses time anyways? That's like possessing air or steam or the wind)

But, above material things, above my bank account or my favorite jeans, I value my time. And I'm finished with investing it into me. Lord knows I don't need any help turning my heart in that direction any more. I love myself so much there's almost no room for anyone else.

My relationship with Jesus and His most precious creations. That's what I want to treasure. That's where I want to invest my time.

#the extra hour we got today to spend on my newest pursuit, instead of sleeping it away.

Awestruck

I was driving to my sister's house and took a turn off on a whim.  The road winded in front of me through the forest, through the fog and rain.  I'm sure it wasn't the best day to go exploring, but I had time and a full tank of gas.

When I parked my car beside a lake, the rain had let up.  Silence reigned supreme.  The normal rustling and chirping noises of the forest were stilled.  The sound of my car door echoed off the trees, breaking the silence for a moment before being swallowed up in the fog that shrouded the lake.

I'll tell you, in those minutes I spent outside of the car, I felt incredibly small. 

"Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth."

The forest was towering and impenetrable by light, the lake seemed endless as it faded away in the gloom.  

"He's so great

And I'm so small

Jesus holds me 

Lest I fall

He's the ruler 

Over all

He's so great

And I'm so small."

Feeling awed and slightly intimidated by the greatness and power of God, I got back in the car and headed back down to the highway.

It reminded me a little bit of when Moses was begging to see God's glory and God said, "I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, 'Yah' in your presence.  I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. But," God said, "You cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live."

Then, God, knowing the fullness of His glory was too much for Moses, chose instead to protect Moses while giving him a small glimpse of Himself.

Truly, the heavens are declaring the Lord's glory.  All of creation testifies His power.

1.) He's So Great - Written by Ron Hamilton 2.) Exodus 33:10 - Probably written by Moses

Unworthy, but considered worth dying for.

For an outsider to read this blog, I'm thinking they would probably get a biased picture of who I am - but then again, skimming over my posts today I noticed that the most commonly used words were "grumpy" and "coffee."

(Okay, I guess it's not such an inaccurate representation after all.)

My name is Merrie Grace, but when I was a toddler (and a child, youth, teen and, lets face it, even sometimes as an adult) my family called me Grumpy Grace.   I can grumble and complain like you've never heard before.  (Of course, it's only when I have something very valid to complain about... like, cold fingers, cold toes, no firewood, cold weather, grumpy people and bad coffee.)

I drink coffee almost every day, sometimes twice a day.  I like to tell myself that it's not because I need it, but because I just love the way it tastes, but that's not completely true.

I procrastinate like nobodies business.  I don't like folding laundry or doing dishes.   I don't put away my clean, folded laundry (that somebody else cleaned and folded for me), I'm disorganized and I hardly ever follow the rules.

I adore attention.  Like, absolutely and obsessively adore it in an unhealthy sort of way.

I'm not disciplined, not very diligent and definitely not determined.

I give up on people.

I stay up too late when I know I need to get up early.   I sleep through most of my predetermined quiet times.  I talk myself out of working out at least twice a day.  

I often don't respond to my emails or text messages.

I'm afraid of the dark.

Insecure.

Jealous.

Foolish.

Unworthy.

And yet, in spite of all my flaws and inconsistencies, with my weakness and fears, I am LOVED.

I'm the most unworthy person that I know and yet, He, knowing my heart better than I know it myself, counts me worthy.

I saw a tweet on twitter about loving a person while hating their sin.  The author commented that to say that was the same as saying "I'm going to love you but reserve the right to hate what I want about you."

I got to thinking...  Does my sin actually hurt God?  Or is He bigger than that?  I'm exploring the idea that the reason God makes sin illegal is because it hurts me!  Just the same way that Dad made playing in the street illegal and Mom wouldn't allow me to use the stove until I was big enough,  The Law is built to protect me, and breaking the law hurts me.

It doesn't give me leave to hate other's lawlessness, but rather to be sorrowful for them.  If God is bigger than their sin, does it really help Him to have me hold the grudge for Him?

I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God loves me.  All of me.  I want to learn to love others with that same kind of love.