Category: Thoughts

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Lavish Grace

My husband writes excellent posts. I find him incredibly profound, and yet somehow easy to read and simple to understand. I am very fond of my head. 😀

He recently has written up a few posts expounding on principles that Mr. Wilson spoke on at a conference we attended in April. One of them discussed the emphasis on grace that we need to have with our children, just as God has with us (His children). Steven and I have constantly gone back to this theme of grace, grace, grace ever since the conference, and I feel like it is changing not only my parenting, but also many of my relationships in general (I posted this last fall, which is another great reminder of grace spilled into relationships). It is beautiful. It is freeing. It is powerful.

In this post Steven wrote emphasizing grace in parenting, he talks about how God lavishly dumps heaps of grace upon our heads, and how we need to imitate that by lavishly dumping it upon our children as well: “We should overflowingly spill grace to our kids.”

Steven and I have discussed, on occasion, different ways that we spill grace to our Gabriel (and to our other babies too). Diligent, consistent training & discipline is one way we spill grace (one of our imitations of God). Teaching & indulging curiosity about God’s created world. Reading extra books at bedtime. Having a cookie picnic on the kitchen floor just for fun. Laughing over spilled milk instead of crying. Allowing jolly messes to be made (I’m thinking blanket forts, fingerpainting, and trucks in the mud) and joyfully cleaning them up. Adding bubbles to the bath. Not exasperating. Playing silly games over and over and over. Showing them how to use the vacuum. Teaching how bread is made, how to chop onions, how to pour lemonade. Taking them places, even if it’s just to the bank. Jumping in mud puddles, and following it up with a lesson on laundry while drinking hot cocoa. Singing, praying, going to church together. Partaking of the Lord’s Supper together.
This list could be endless, and I could go on & on — which just reiterates the point that we have endless opportunities to overflowingly spill grace to our kids. Especially because, as Steven says, faithful discipling & disciplining of our children is the first & foremost way of spilling grace upon them — and we all know that there are countless times in every day where we are able to spill that particular grace! 🙂

But what I really wanted to share here was a simple yet profound statement my husband said to me when we discussed this a few days ago:

  • Showing grace to our children isn’t just entering into their world — it is that, but it is only partly that. It is also allowing them to enter ours.

Isn’t that profound? And isn’t that excellent? How God-like!! Just as He enters our world, He allows us to enter His as well. In part now, and in fullness yet to come.
All honor, laud, and glory be to Him.

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More About Syllables

When I posted this about Gabriel’s name, I never expected to ellicit the response I did. 🙂

I figure some of you might enjoy a response, so I thought I might as well give it another post. Why not? 🙂 Originally, I didn’t even put it up in search of a discussion about the validity (or not) of nicknames or terms of endearment. I was actually just being kind of silly. I do suppose you could call it a pet peeve of mine — we just aren’t a family of Steve, Mel, & Gabe. It just isn’t us. But in all actuality, I was making light of it in that post. I guess the smiley and wordage didn’t come across as I expected it to. That’s one of the problems with the written word — it’s hard to tell intention without facial expression and voice inflection sometimes. 🙂

I am in awe of Gabriel’s existence these days. As we find out more details about the fight his brothers & sisters have had in my womb, I am just amazed that Gabriel is alive. His name means “God is my strength,” and I just think that is true about his very existence. He probably, by physical explanation, ought to have died in my womb like his brothers & sisters. And I’m not saying that God hasn’t been the strength of his siblings too — I believe that He has given them strength all the way on their six journeys past heaven’s gate. But I think God gave Gabriel, even when he was but a tiny blastocyst and embryo, particular strength and stamina to survive the hostile environment in my womb. So I have recently fallen even more in love with his name, its meaning, its sound, its syllables.

I guess I just didn’t make my awe clear previously. 🙂

At any rate… now that y’all have turned it into a discussion, I figured I might as well respond to a couple of the points that were made. 🙂

Yes, we do get to call him whatever we want at  home! 😀 But to extend that… we also get to name our children whatever we want. His name is Gabriel — if we wanted him named Gabe, we would have named him Gabe David instead of Gabriel David. You wouldn’t call him Joseph or Caleb as a term of endearment — I don’t really see why calling him a name (i.e. Gabe) that is not his own, is endearing. But that’s just me. 🙂 Like someone said in a comment, people should honor the parents’ prerogative in that way.

Yes, it is more the acquaintances (and not family members, or even close friends) who do this with my son’s name. It isn’t so much a term of endearment as a term of casualness. Someone will ask, “what is your son’s name?” and after I tell them, they’ll look at him and say, “hi, Gabe, it’s nice to meet you” (for instance). So it’s strange — the automatic shortening, as one of you put it. Wouldn’t you think that the way someone is introduced to you is the way you ought to address them? If I introduce myself to someone as “Mrs. C–” (forgive me for omitting the name; I don’t like to include last names online), I would not appreciate it if the response was, “okay, Melissa.”

If someone asked me, “Gabriel — nice name, would it be okay if we called him Gabe? It would be easier for my toddler to pronounce”… at least that would be giving me an opportunity to say yay or nay on the subject. And I would, as you might guess, say “you know, we’d really prefer if you called our son Gabriel. It’s okay if your toddler can’t pronounce it yet. We know it’ll be pronounced correctly someday.” (One of my favorite things was when Gabriel’s first real friend called him Gable, as he tried so hard to pronounce his name! And now one of his friends calls him BeBe-Oh. So cute.) It’s kind of like my son calling my mother “Mimi.” Her name is Grandmama, but he pronounces it Mimi at this point. He’ll get there. Eventually it will come out correctly.

One of you described it as murdering the beauty of the name your mother picked out for you. I guess that’s sort of how I look at it too. Names are hugely important. That’s one thing I adore about Scripture — names. God named things with beautiful, intricate meaning. His people named things too, according to that pattern. And they still do, largely, today. I can not picture God calling David the psalmist “Dave” (even though he was the man after God’s own heart), or Moses “Mo” (even though God spoke to him and revealed Himself to him). If you want to get all official about this, I believe the meanings of names to be incredibly important. (If you don’t believe me, just check out all my babies’ names in the “About Me” section and you’ll see what I mean!) We pick out beautiful names for our children. On purpose. These children are born to us. Given to us. And we are given the responsibility to bestow names upon them. Appropriate names. Beautiful names. Overflowing with meaning.

As for believing the best about people, I totally get that & 100% agree. I do not at all think that someone is being purposely disrespectful by using a nickname (I guess I just call it ignorance or presumption). I am not at all bitter about people calling my son Gabe. I have never snapped in anyone’s face about it. I’ve never ignored someone when they’ve referenced him with a shortened version of his name. Besides, I have become quite good at either ignoring peoples’ blind comments or simply covering them with love — I gets heaps & hoards of them all the time, especially about my children. So yes, I definitely agree that this is not something to become bitter or resentful about.

Again though, just as it is my job to be gracious to people who call my son something other than his name, I also want to reiterate that it is my job to be gracious to people by calling them by their name, by calling them what they want to be called, by calling their children by their beautiful given names. Unless I am invited/asked to call someone by a nickname, it is a show of honor, respect, love, and affection to call them by their name.

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Vial Levity

Yesterday we had some blood drawn. My husband had four vials done, which may be the most he’s ever had at one time. I had 25, which is not the most I have ever had at one time.

In fact, when I saw the tubes divided into little containers (blood was being sent to four labs, and each lab’s vials were in its own container), I said to the lab lady who knows me by name (it’s just too much trouble to call her a phlebotomist), “is that all? I thought there would be more than that!” She thought I was crazy but I was totally serious.

About ten months ago I had 32 vials drawn at once, and it was scary to me at the time.

But now needles have become a habitual part of life for me. And getting my blood drawn is like child’s play.

So it’s just funny to me, seeing how my perspective has changed over the last year:
25 vials of blood? Eh, piece of cake! 😀

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Dress With Care

It is said of the Proverbs 31 woman that she is dressed (or clothed) with dignity and with strength (verses 17 & 25). These are important, hugely important, for any woman of God. A lot could be said about that at another time.

But I’m thinking about something different at the moment. I just finished ironing a pile of clothing. The majority of it belonged to my darling husband. I realized that I love to iron his pants and shirts, and was trying to figure out why.
I love to take care of his clothing — removing stains, washing it, drying it, folding it, ironing it, putting it away, etc. He doesn’t let me pick out his clothes for him or even go through his drawers to decide what things need to be retired — those are his self-appointed jobs. 🙂 But I do the caring of his clothing (reminds me of Prov 31:21). Not only so he looks good, but also so people who see him know that he is loved — that he has a wife at home who loves to care for her husband in physical, tangible, visible ways.

You see, the way my husband looks, reflects upon me.
Just like the way that I look reflects upon him.

This reminds me that my body is not my own. I know that 1 Corinthians 7 is speaking of marital love and the marriage bed when it says “For the wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does. Likewise the husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does”… but I really think that principle is well applied in other areas. It is the very idea of self-sacrifice, putting another before one’s self, and Christlike love coming into play.

I do not dress for myself.
I dress for my husband.

And I’m not just talking about cute little nighties.
I’m talking about jeans, t-shirts, dresses, footwear, sweaters — anything that goes on my body.
I dress for him.
It reflects upon him.
I do dress to please him — what wife doesn’t want to catch her husband’s eye when he walks in after a long day’s work?
But I also dress to reflect well upon him.

(And yes, my words, my stance, my clothing, my actions — they all reflect upon my husband.)

To reflect well upon him, I want to show the world that I have a hardworking husband who provides for our needs very well; that he loves to adorn my beauty and fill my closet; that he loves beauty as well as godly modesty; that he loves my skin enough to conceal it; that he keeps my body for himself.

And, likewise, the way he dresses reflects upon me.
The way our son dresses reflects upon us.

So yes, while also taking passages like Matthew 6 and 1 Peter 3 into consideration, clothing is important. Like actions. Like words.
We should desire to praise God through everything we do, including the way we adorn the physical bodies He has blessed us with. I want to honor God through my clothing. And I want to honor my husband through my clothing. (Prov 31:22)

So next time you’re ironing your husband’s clothes — think about reflection. Your reflection. His reflection. Your reflection of Christ. How we reflect upon one another.

Clothes are important. Dress with care.

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Not In Vain!

Not in vain, the tedious toil, On an unresponsive soil,
Travail, tears in secret shed, Over hopes that lay as dead.
All in vain, thy faint heart cries. Not in vain, thy Lord replies:
Nothing is to good to be; Then believe, believe to see.

Did thy labor turn to dust? Suff’ring – did it eat like rust
Till the blade that once was keen, As a blunted tool is seen?
Dust and rust thy life’s reward? Slay the thought; believe thy Lord!
When thy soul is in distress, Think upon His faithfulness.

Though there be not fig nor vine, In thy stall there be no kine,
Flock be cut off from the fold, Not a single lamb be told,
And thy olive berry fall Yielding no sweet oil at all,
Pulse-seed wither in the pod – Still do thou rejoice in God.

But consider, was it vain, All the travail on the plain?
For the bud is on the bough; It is green where thou didst plow.
Listen, tramp of little feet, Call of little lambs that bleat;
Hearken to it. Verily, Nothing is too good to be.

~Amy Carmichael~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many mothers apply this beautiful poem to the toil of motherhood.

I personally apply it to my toil in search of motherhood. A large part of me desperately wants to give up. It is too hard to keep trying to have children, keep losing them to early death, and now to have doctor after doctor give me news that this may well just be the story of my life (especially without some drastic interventions). “It is in vain,” I often hear my brain telling myself, “Give up now while you still have a chance and before the ridicule gets any heavier.”

But, like it or not, God has called us to a particular path — and apparently it just includes more drastic interventions than I ever dreamed would be necessary. God continues to give wisdom when we seek it: to us as we use our weak selves to ram down the doors of Heaven and beseech our Father with frequent & fervent prayers, to my parents who are helping us seek godly wisdom & wise counselors, specifically to my father who is most actively pounding down physical doors to attain the golden gift of wisdom. And since God is leading us, it is not in vain. Most certainly not. Whatever His purposes are, they are most definitely not vain.

And so this poem, in all its striking beauty and truth, brings me to hiccups of tears every time I read it.

My life is not in vain.
My womb is not in vain.
My childrens’ lives (no matter how short on earth) are not in vain.
Our prayers are not in vain.
Our desires are not in vain.
The research, the consultations, the tests are not in vain.
The medical treatments are not in vain.
Not a single shot, pill, blood draw, or infusion is in vain.
These myriads of “little deaths” that I am called to die for my family are not in vain.

And this, my friends, is good news for this tired, broken mama. Good news, indeed.

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(Im)material Blessings

Yesterday after having the joy of babysitting my niece and nephew, I wanted to stop off at a cute little local fabric shop. Perhaps I should call it something more like a “textile boutique” ~ because it was that lovely. Selling all kinds of Amy Butler and Heather Bailey bolts of beautiful goodness. I wanted to touch it all. However, I rather hurried, as I had a very tired two year old on my hip who was ready to head home to his comfy crib; he definitely would rather touch Big Bear, clasp blankie, and rest his head on his own crisp & cool bedsheet than be in this cutesy, inspiring place. That is, until he saw the Tiffany inspired lights and the lineup of sewing machines on a table. Then he started saying “la, la, la, la” (light) and making motor sounds intermittently. The owner of the store who was restocking shelves couldn’t get over his “cute sounds.”

At any rate… I was buying material with which I will be making a gift for one of my dearest friends. I chose three different bolts, and got 1 1/2 yards of each; then I will let her choose which one she wants me to whip up into a gift for her, and I will still have two lengths of material leftover for future projects.

While the saleslady was handwriting me a receipt and cutting the fabric into the appropriate lengths, we chatted. Whilst my son continued his chorus of “la, la, la, bbbbbrrrrr, la, la, la, bbbbbrrrr.” She was saying how much she enjoyed filling in there at the textile boutique (if I may call it that) for her friend who has mono, since she has a 5 month old little boy she’s been staying home with. She said, “I don’t know how those stay-home moms do it. I am too smart for that – for things like keeping house. I have my master’s degree, I used to be a business owner, and I miss challenging work and stimulating occupation.” Then she caught herself and looked up at me as though the lightbulb just turned on, and said, “You’re probably one of those stay-home moms, huh?”

Good work, Holmes. Was it the fact that it’s 2:30 in the afternoon, I am definitely not wearing a business suit, & I’ve got a sleepy toddler on my hip that tipped you off? Yes, Watson, exactly so.

Anyway… after that grating little phrase about her being too smart for things like keeping house… I so desperately wanted to say, “then you’re obviously not doing it right!” and smartly refer her to Proverbs 31.

But I didn’t. I held my tongue as she continued to tell me about her 10 and 12 year old daughters being fairly self-sufficient, and how her first son was also her “first surprise.” Then I stopped holding my tongue, and said, “I could use a surprise like that.” She sort of raised her eyebrows and stopped rolling the bolt of material. I continued, “My life could use a wonderful surprise like that for a change. What a blessing for you.”

There was a pause in the room. It felt like a long time, but I’m quite certain it couldn’t have been more than five seconds. And then she folded up the material for me, I exchanged some money for it, and I walked out. My son in one arm, my three bits of material in the other. Musing over my sweet boy whose head was resting on my shoulder, the home where I was heading to go take dominion over yet again, and the husband who was out working tirelessly to provide for our little family & our heaps of needs.

I was just thankful. Thankful for what I have been given. Thankful for my domain, my dominion, and my opportunity to change the world through what I clean, create, raise, train, grow, bring in, and send forth.

Thankful for these material and immaterial blessings.

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Tuesday April 20, 2010

All creatures of our God and King
Lift up your voice and with us sing,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Thou burning sun with golden beam,
Thou silver moon with softer gleam!

O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Thou rushing wind that art so strong
Ye clouds that sail in Heaven along,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Thou rising moon, in praise rejoice,
Ye lights of evening, find a voice!

O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Thou flowing water, pure and clear,
Make music for thy Lord to hear,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Thou fire so masterful and bright,
That givest man both warmth and light.

O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Dear mother earth, who day by day
Unfoldest blessings on our way,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
The flowers and fruits that in thee grow,
Let them His glory also show.

O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

And all ye men of tender heart,
Forgiving others, take your part,
O sing ye! Alleluia!
Ye who long pain and sorrow bear,
Praise God and on Him cast your care!

O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

And thou most kind and gentle Death,
Waiting to hush our latest breath,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Thou leadest home the child of God,
And Christ our Lord the way hath trod.

O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Let all things their Creator bless,
And worship Him in humbleness,
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Praise, praise the Father, praise the Son,
And praise the Spirit, Three in One!

O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

~Francis of Assisi, cir­ca 1225 (Can­ti­co di frat­re so­le, Song of Bro­ther Sun). He wrote this hymn short­ly be­fore his death, but it was not pub­lished for al­most 400 years. Trans­lat­ed to Eng­lish by William H. Draper for a children’s Whit­sun­tide fes­ti­val in Leeds, Eng­land; first ap­peared in the Pub­lic School Hymn Book, 1919~

Thou hidden source of calm repose,
Thou all sufficient love divine,
My help and refuge from my foes,
Secure I am if Thou art mine;
And lo! from sin and grief and shame
I hide me, Jesus, in Thy Name.

Thy mighty Name salvation is,
And keeps my happy soul above;
Comfort it brings, and power and peace,
And joy and everlasting love;
To me with Thy dear Name are given
Pardon and holiness and Heaven.

Jesus, my all in all Thou art,
My rest in toil, my ease in pain,
The healing of my broken heart,
In war my peace, in loss my gain,
My smile beneath the tyrant’s frown,
In shame my glory and my crown.

In want my plentiful supply,
In weakness my almighty power,
In bonds my perfect liberty,
My light in Satan’s darkest hour,
In grief my joy unspeakable,
My life in death, my Heaven in hell.

~Charles Wesley, “Hymns and Sac­red Po­ems“, 1749~

Psalm 4
(With interspersed thoughts by me, praying this psalm, in italics.)

To the choirmaster: with stringed instruments. A Psalm of David.

Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness!
(Sometimes I feel like I am literally begging You to answer. And sometimes I can’t tell if you do.)
   You have given me relief when I was in distress.
(You are my only relief. My distress chases me daily. Continue to be my relief!)
   Be gracious to me and hear my prayer!
(Hear me, please. Listen to the cries of your maidservant. Have mercy on my humble estate.)

O men, how long shall my honor be turned into shame?
   How long will you love vain words and seek after lies?
                    Selah
(Oh Lord, sometimes I feel like my own honor is shameful. I feel tempted to love vanity and lies, as it is sometimes easier than loving righteousness and truth, for the devil is sugar-coated and cunning. Cause me to be honorable. And cause me to not only seek righteousness and truth, but to love it with every bone in my body.)

But know that the LORD has set apart the godly for Himself;
   the LORD hears when I call to Him.
(Lord, I am Yours; You have called me and adopted me as Your child. As my Father, hear my prayers, my calls, my cries, my pleas.)

Be angry, and do not sin;
    ponder in your own hearts on your beds, and be silent.
                     Selah
(So often, Lord, I feel anger bubbling up inside. Sometime it is righteous anger, and sometimes it is not. Forgive me, Father, for sinning in anger. Teach me to have anger only as You do. As I silently lie here and ponder You and Your kingdom, Your people and Your ways; teach me righteous love, righteous compassion, and righteous anger. I am angry at sin, at death, at their consequences.)

Offer right sacrifices,
   and put your trust in the LORD.
(I bring you a broken spirit, my Lord, a broken and contrite heart. Be please to accept these sacrifices, as I praise You both in joy and in tears. Cause me to trust You more and more each day, and lead me paths of righteousness for Your name’s sake.)

 There are many who say, “Who will show us some good?
    Lift up the light of Your face upon us, O LORD!”
(People have asked me recently why I trust You. And how I know that You lift the light of Your face upon us. Of this I am confident, though: You do, and You will. Show us some good, my Lord, according to Your great measure of mercies.)
You have put more joy in my heart
   than they have when their grain and wine abound.
(The joy in my heart comes from You, from Your salvation, from Your promises to me as Your child. All the promises of earth and vanity are nothing but vapors and lies. Remind me daily, my King, to drink from the well of joy You have placed in my heart by Your grace.)

In peace I will both lie down and sleep;
   for You alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.
(Thank You for peace, for rest, for eternal safety in Your bosom. Thank You, my Father, for these blessings! Bless and keep us, and make Your face to shine upon us, lift up Your countenance upon us, and give us peace. You are our shepherd and captain. Keep us mindful of Your careful, gentle hand; show us Your mighty protection and wise guiding.)

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Saturday April 17, 2010

  • Sleeping in and relaxing under the covers with husby.
  • The fact that my coffee tasted better today, thanks to running vinegar through the coffee maker yesterday.
  • Watching my husband take dominion of our yard all afternoon.
  • The smell of freshly cut grass.
  • Talking to my mom on the phone.
  • Taking dominion of my home, as well as my body and mind and heart.
  • Planting herbs, and watering the flowers I planted yesterday.
  • Gabriel, when he dumped the watering can over onto himself & was scared out of wits because he was suddenly sopping wet.
  • Gabriel, because he has been living in just a diaper along with socks & shoes ever since that incident – he did not want more clothes on.
  • Weather warm enough to actually have the screen door open today.
  • Baking, baking, baking! Blackberry bars, chocolate bundt cake, and stromboli.
  • New recipes: a pork chop & sweet potatoes dish from last night, and stromboli for tonight.
  • My dad, driving up in my brother’s beat-up old truck with a bed full of sheep manure.
  • Watching my father and husband haul barrow after barrow of manure back to my eagerly awaiting garden plot.
  • The bulbs Steven planted for me last year: the daffodils and hyacinths are gorgeously blooming, and the tulips look about ready to burst into bloom, too.
  • Reading bits from: The Loveliness of Christ, Toward Jerusalem, One Year book of Hope, and Womanly Dominion.
  • Sunshine and a cool breeze.
  • Anticipating having some old friends from college over tonight for dessert.
  • Playing piano & harp, and singing; preparing for worship tomorrow.
  • Anticipating having family over for dinner tomorrow after church.
  • Dilly, curled up on my legs while sitting here on the floor with my laptop.
  • Remembering that God is faithful, and that I am His daughter. And His wife. 🙂
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Monday April 5, 2010

2 Corinthians 12:8-10
Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.


I have been feeling emotionally weakened the last couple of days.

I am searching for sufficient grace.
I am glad that I don’t have to look far.
I don’t honestly even have to look at all.
God provides it.
Christ’s power may rest on me & fill me in my weakness.

So here I am.
Weak in spirit, and about to feel very weak in body. (it’s infusion week!)
I am not afraid to proclaim it.
For Christ is sufficient.
And His grace is abounding.

I am weak.
Therefore I am strong.
Amen.

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Saturday April 3, 2010

I feel like the feelings of ‘today’ rather epitomize where I am in life.
Yesterday was Good Friday.
Tomorrow is Resurrection Sunday.
How do you keep faith and hope alive during Saturday?

That’s when Jesus’ followers thought all was lost and they were overwhelmed by grief, for they had just buried their Son/Brother/Teacher/Friend. (Did they know they had just buried their Savior??) Did they know the Resurrection was coming?

Saturday -today- is that time of waiting between the terrible darkness of Good Friday and the glory of Resurrection Sunday truth. When Jesus’ people did not know whether or not there would be glorious resurrection.

In some ways, this last year has felt like one long Good Friday for me, and now I am in the Saturday of waiting. Wondering what is going to happen. Knowing that there will be some sort of resurrection (when I die, if nothing else), but wondering where, when, how…

How do I keep faith and hope not only in God but in His works and in His people, when I feel like the grief is too fresh and any sort of resurrection is beyond my reach or too far away??

I want to experience His power and glory apart from getting the desires of my own heart. I want to know His power and glory even in my weakest and darkest moments.
Because, ultimately, I want His people & the world to see my joy is because of who He is and what He accomplished at THE Resurrection — not just my joy if/when He fulfills the desires He has put in my heart.

So today as we prepare for and await Resurrection Sunday, remember that today is a day of wondering, a day of fresh grief, a day of the unknown.

I feel, still, like it is a day that epitomizes this season of my life.

May God be glorified. May He be close.
May we praise Him rightly tomorrow, in glory and truth and righteousness, as we remember Jesus’ resurrection, as we look ahead to the final Resurrection, and as we look for little resurrections in our lives!