"Eat your peas."
" . . . but I don't like peas."
"Eat your peas."
" . . . they taste yucky!"
"Eat your peas."
" . . . (crying) but I don't wanna eat my peas! I hate peas!"
Mom slowly but confidently takes the plate to the sink, washing the peas down the drain. No more peas.
An hour passes. My child is hungry. "I'm hungry mommy. I'm hungry now."
"I'm sorry honey. We were eating a terrific dinner and you were being very rude about the peas because you wanted something else. We're done with dinner now. I'm sorry you're hungry. We'll eat again tomorrow."
My child now understands. She looks down at her shoes and thinks about spaghetti noodles as her shoe laces flip back and forth.
Fast forward.
"You need to be home on time."
"But I don't want to come home that early."
"You need to be home at curfew."
"But I don't want to."
"You need to follow our rules."
"But I don't like your rules."
Mom slowly but confidently takes the car keys, the house keys, the priveleges and figuratively washes those away . . . hoping the young lion becomes hungry again. Soon. Hungry for rightness, hungry for relationship, hungry for goodness.
As a parent there is nothing harder than drawing the line in the sand and enforcing boundaries. As a child there is nothing harder than understanding why a parent must draw than line. What a child cannot see, and will never see, until they have young lions of their own, is that the lines are drawn to keep a child protected. Usually from themselves. Parents struggle with doing it - it hurts them to discipline the child even when a consequence MUST follow poor choices.
Psalm 34:10 Even strong young lions sometimes go hungry,
but those who trust in the Lord will lack no good thing.
Sometimes young lions do go hungry. And in that hunger they think. And in that thinking hopefully they discover initiative. And drive. And hopefully in that drive they discover they are responsible for what their path, their bounty, their pursuit. Hopefully that hunger gives them the raw courage to venture out, take necessary risks to learn life, to increase their stature. And hopefully in that hunger they seek God and trust His provision.
I'm watching a young lion go hungry tonight. It would be so easy to feed, cottle and rescue . . . but I can't.
God what is my job? Pray for the hunger to grow into a yearning. Pray for the yearning to grow into a strength. Pray for that strength to grow into a powerful force for good. Pray for the young lion to grow into a beautiful warm confident lionness.
And one who loves peas. : )
Monday, June 21, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Fool's Gold
Our family just returned from a beautiful trip to California. We were able to see Cannery Row and Fisherman's Wharf in Monterey, the beach in Carmel, Yosemite and the Redwoods, in addition to Mona Lake. Three of our teenage children were able to go with Scott and I for the week, staying with family and great hotels along the way.
On our first afternoon the kids and I, stretching our legs a bit, walked down to the river just a quarter mile down the road.
It was hot that day and the river bubbled and splashed on the rocks seeming almost excited we were there. The three kids, who had hemmed and haw'd after the long drive, perked up as they took in the river bottom scenery. Captivated by sound of the rushing water and mesmerized by the sandy water's edge that sparkled, within minutes they were discovering brilliant rocks and tide pools, completely oblivious now to me or the hundreds of miles we had just driven.
Squealing with delight upon finding a fat gray bullfrog tadpole, my youngest daughter (usually the germaphobe of the family) dipped her hand into the small tide pool to see if she could catch it with her bare hands. My oldest daughter rolled up her long shirt and began wading into the water, feet gingerly finding footing on the slippery lava rock. My son, the 6 foot tall wann-be body-builder, ripped off his shirt completely revealing the Utah white skin - as if to soak up every energizing California ray of sunshine.
At the edges of the water, where the sand collected from the busy river, were sparkling pieces of fool's gold. Here is where miners had struck it rich in the new land of California - panning for gold in the mountain streams. The kids began collecting the shiny tidbits, with a child-like fascination. Scanning the river bottom, it was as if God himself had thrown gold like diamonds by the handful, just for us. It seemed magical; the dancing river, the gold diamonds everywhere, and the sun warming our shoulders and cheeks just perfectly.
I watched my children take in the magic and nature with such an excitement - so different than watching tv at home. They were so free and curious in this non-technical, but high-def organic setting.
It struck me how these three children were all so unique. Their sizes, their shapes, their mannerisms. Though I had given birth to all three, every one of them had their own purpose, there own personality, and their own interests. Watching them interact, then get caught up in watching something or touching something on their own, and then calling to each other to show or do something together . . . it hit me that one day soon they would all spread their wings in search of their God-given path. Our days together like this, at the river, vacationing and seeing the world together . . . those days were changing.
With that thought pressing on my mind, I grabbed my bag searching for my camera. "I've got to capture this moment before it's gone!" Looking, looking . . . no camera. Grabbing my phone I try to take a photo. Low battery. Not enough to take a picture. Ugh.
I just sat there. Stunned. No camera. No dang camera. That means no pictures of these priceless moments! None!
My heart sank. And in the next breath it was as if I heard God Himself say, "This is the real gold Tiffany. Moments that you don't see coming, moments you don't plan, moments that you never get back."
I just sat there. And the river like my gratitude swept uncaptured over my heart, over my soul, over my life . . . and I basked in the sweetness of my children . . . so grateful for the privilege of holding them as babies, rocking them in my arms, and being so blessed to watch them grow taller, wiser, into the people God made them to be.
And the shore sparkled with magic. Only a fool would miss this moment.
God, thank you for the moments that are so full, so real, so brilliant. Thank you for being so big that your love for me shines everywhere - and it shines most when I am still and allow myself to see YOU.
Truly. Thank you for the real gold, the real magic, the real brilliance - I sit quietly and see the hand of God. Amazed.
The next day we went back to the river - with a camera in hand this time - and played again for hours in the magical sparkling river - laughing and enjoying each other as the trees swayed and water raced by. My cup of life full to bubbling over . . . I see the gold God. I see it.
On our first afternoon the kids and I, stretching our legs a bit, walked down to the river just a quarter mile down the road.
It was hot that day and the river bubbled and splashed on the rocks seeming almost excited we were there. The three kids, who had hemmed and haw'd after the long drive, perked up as they took in the river bottom scenery. Captivated by sound of the rushing water and mesmerized by the sandy water's edge that sparkled, within minutes they were discovering brilliant rocks and tide pools, completely oblivious now to me or the hundreds of miles we had just driven.
Squealing with delight upon finding a fat gray bullfrog tadpole, my youngest daughter (usually the germaphobe of the family) dipped her hand into the small tide pool to see if she could catch it with her bare hands. My oldest daughter rolled up her long shirt and began wading into the water, feet gingerly finding footing on the slippery lava rock. My son, the 6 foot tall wann-be body-builder, ripped off his shirt completely revealing the Utah white skin - as if to soak up every energizing California ray of sunshine.
At the edges of the water, where the sand collected from the busy river, were sparkling pieces of fool's gold. Here is where miners had struck it rich in the new land of California - panning for gold in the mountain streams. The kids began collecting the shiny tidbits, with a child-like fascination. Scanning the river bottom, it was as if God himself had thrown gold like diamonds by the handful, just for us. It seemed magical; the dancing river, the gold diamonds everywhere, and the sun warming our shoulders and cheeks just perfectly.
I watched my children take in the magic and nature with such an excitement - so different than watching tv at home. They were so free and curious in this non-technical, but high-def organic setting.
It struck me how these three children were all so unique. Their sizes, their shapes, their mannerisms. Though I had given birth to all three, every one of them had their own purpose, there own personality, and their own interests. Watching them interact, then get caught up in watching something or touching something on their own, and then calling to each other to show or do something together . . . it hit me that one day soon they would all spread their wings in search of their God-given path. Our days together like this, at the river, vacationing and seeing the world together . . . those days were changing.
With that thought pressing on my mind, I grabbed my bag searching for my camera. "I've got to capture this moment before it's gone!" Looking, looking . . . no camera. Grabbing my phone I try to take a photo. Low battery. Not enough to take a picture. Ugh.
I just sat there. Stunned. No camera. No dang camera. That means no pictures of these priceless moments! None!
My heart sank. And in the next breath it was as if I heard God Himself say, "This is the real gold Tiffany. Moments that you don't see coming, moments you don't plan, moments that you never get back."
I just sat there. And the river like my gratitude swept uncaptured over my heart, over my soul, over my life . . . and I basked in the sweetness of my children . . . so grateful for the privilege of holding them as babies, rocking them in my arms, and being so blessed to watch them grow taller, wiser, into the people God made them to be.
And the shore sparkled with magic. Only a fool would miss this moment.
God, thank you for the moments that are so full, so real, so brilliant. Thank you for being so big that your love for me shines everywhere - and it shines most when I am still and allow myself to see YOU.
Truly. Thank you for the real gold, the real magic, the real brilliance - I sit quietly and see the hand of God. Amazed.
The next day we went back to the river - with a camera in hand this time - and played again for hours in the magical sparkling river - laughing and enjoying each other as the trees swayed and water raced by. My cup of life full to bubbling over . . . I see the gold God. I see it.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
The Gift of Limits
I have for a long time preached the intellectual sermon about "limitless living" and "transforming your obstacles". In that rah-rah hype and momentum I have also promoted the belief that we only limit ourselves, by our beliefs, our pasts, our expectations and our fears. In a way, waging a battle against perceived limitations as if they were the enemy of success to be beaten down and conquered.
This morning while reading the book "Emotionally Healthy Spirituality", the author Peter Scazzero explains that limits are to be grieved, then embraced. While our limits frustrate us, they also train us in humility. Humility then, as a character asset, is the very thing that keeps us in touch with reality - the very word "humility" in Latin meaning grounded.
"Is it true God that You place certain limits in my life to help me stay grounded?", my mind pleaded as I closed the pages of the book in desperation. "God, do you limit me on purpose to train my soul? These things that I am fighting against, have you put them there on purpose?" Before I could finish my pleadings I could almost hear a strong but gentle voice saying, "Yes child. Your limits keep you REAL."
Oh my gosh. It hit me. Like the story of the Velveteen Rabbit with its eyes loved off, my limits are THE gift that God gives me - not to be a failure, not to be broken, not to be forever grieving, not to be frustrated, but to be REAL.
In a world of plastic commercials, disposible people and supersales, that up-sell sex, up-sell Hollywood, up-sell money and fame, that up-sells gotta-have-it-right-this-second . . . God wants me to BE real and STAY real. My God-given limitations are as valueable in the process as are my God-given gifts.
God opens up the visual of swimming. "Child, water is a constant. It has qualities that are consistant every time you get in it. Understanding its qualities and constants allows you to learn and employ the principles of swimming. There is frustration sometimes in learning to swim, but enjoyment once the principles of that constant are understood. Your limitations with water combined with its constants allows you the experience of success within limits."
My mind reeled in that clarity. My limitations and struggles with my children? Same. My limitations and struggles with health? Same. My limitations and struggles with money? Same. My limitations from family patterns and ineffective thinking? Same.
God wants me to embrace my limitations - and grow with them in the constants that they teach me - while not being defined by them.
"Thank you God for giving me limitations. I will not be angry for them anymore. I will not see them as my enemy. Thank you for the constants that they each create - and the character training that they require of me." I whisper as I prepare for my day, seeing my tasks so differently than before.
And as the water runs over me, I am right like rain.
This morning while reading the book "Emotionally Healthy Spirituality", the author Peter Scazzero explains that limits are to be grieved, then embraced. While our limits frustrate us, they also train us in humility. Humility then, as a character asset, is the very thing that keeps us in touch with reality - the very word "humility" in Latin meaning grounded.
"Is it true God that You place certain limits in my life to help me stay grounded?", my mind pleaded as I closed the pages of the book in desperation. "God, do you limit me on purpose to train my soul? These things that I am fighting against, have you put them there on purpose?" Before I could finish my pleadings I could almost hear a strong but gentle voice saying, "Yes child. Your limits keep you REAL."
Oh my gosh. It hit me. Like the story of the Velveteen Rabbit with its eyes loved off, my limits are THE gift that God gives me - not to be a failure, not to be broken, not to be forever grieving, not to be frustrated, but to be REAL.
In a world of plastic commercials, disposible people and supersales, that up-sell sex, up-sell Hollywood, up-sell money and fame, that up-sells gotta-have-it-right-this-second . . . God wants me to BE real and STAY real. My God-given limitations are as valueable in the process as are my God-given gifts.
God opens up the visual of swimming. "Child, water is a constant. It has qualities that are consistant every time you get in it. Understanding its qualities and constants allows you to learn and employ the principles of swimming. There is frustration sometimes in learning to swim, but enjoyment once the principles of that constant are understood. Your limitations with water combined with its constants allows you the experience of success within limits."
My mind reeled in that clarity. My limitations and struggles with my children? Same. My limitations and struggles with health? Same. My limitations and struggles with money? Same. My limitations from family patterns and ineffective thinking? Same.
God wants me to embrace my limitations - and grow with them in the constants that they teach me - while not being defined by them.
"Thank you God for giving me limitations. I will not be angry for them anymore. I will not see them as my enemy. Thank you for the constants that they each create - and the character training that they require of me." I whisper as I prepare for my day, seeing my tasks so differently than before.
And as the water runs over me, I am right like rain.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
The Devil - Up Close and Personal
I've been tempted in my life. Haven't you? Tempted to do the wrong thing, tempted to lash out, tempted to think terrible, mean-spirited thoughts. Oh, I have been.
And, I've been convinced by my pride that I'm right, determined to war or seek revenge, seek my own reward, and I've at times even been tempted to play the martyr and soak in self-pity like a bubble bath til I was shriveled up like a raisin.
I never see it in the exact moment for what it is. It always fools me.
Why is that?
I think I've learned something. A major "aha" in my life as of just days ago.
When the devil is in your face, you will NOT see if for what it is. You CAN'T. Because he'll never look like the devil up close and personal. Like a ghost or a vapor, you will sense him there lurking in your problems, your drama, your anger, but you won't be able to really see how big or ugly he is until the light comes - hours, days or sometimes even years later.
In the light of truth, the light of wisdom, the light of hindsight, or the light of conviction, the devil can be clearly seen. Stepping back a few paces from the situation, the drama, the problem, the challenge, you can see him clearly - seeking to tear you down, confuse the issue, breed fear, create division and destroy your self-esteem and life mission.
So, the key when you find yourself questioning your actions, your motives, your wisdom, your faith, and it doesn't feel good to your soul . . . put some distance between you and the devil - take some alone time with God and see your life as heaven sees it . . . and what you'll find is the Devil's been in your face . . .
Enter Jesus. Arms open wide enough to put some distance between you and that deceptive joker. Arms open wide enough to help you see your possibilities and limitless value. Sacred space.
For with Jesus it is personal as well. Bring any problem, challenge, bitterness or loss to Him and He'll shine a light. So bright that the devil disappears like a vapor. And what is left is truth, strength, grace and love . . . hold that close . . . for with those you can never be deceived. And it will feel good to your soul. So good.
And, I've been convinced by my pride that I'm right, determined to war or seek revenge, seek my own reward, and I've at times even been tempted to play the martyr and soak in self-pity like a bubble bath til I was shriveled up like a raisin.
I never see it in the exact moment for what it is. It always fools me.
Why is that?
I think I've learned something. A major "aha" in my life as of just days ago.
When the devil is in your face, you will NOT see if for what it is. You CAN'T. Because he'll never look like the devil up close and personal. Like a ghost or a vapor, you will sense him there lurking in your problems, your drama, your anger, but you won't be able to really see how big or ugly he is until the light comes - hours, days or sometimes even years later.
In the light of truth, the light of wisdom, the light of hindsight, or the light of conviction, the devil can be clearly seen. Stepping back a few paces from the situation, the drama, the problem, the challenge, you can see him clearly - seeking to tear you down, confuse the issue, breed fear, create division and destroy your self-esteem and life mission.
So, the key when you find yourself questioning your actions, your motives, your wisdom, your faith, and it doesn't feel good to your soul . . . put some distance between you and the devil - take some alone time with God and see your life as heaven sees it . . . and what you'll find is the Devil's been in your face . . .
Enter Jesus. Arms open wide enough to put some distance between you and that deceptive joker. Arms open wide enough to help you see your possibilities and limitless value. Sacred space.
For with Jesus it is personal as well. Bring any problem, challenge, bitterness or loss to Him and He'll shine a light. So bright that the devil disappears like a vapor. And what is left is truth, strength, grace and love . . . hold that close . . . for with those you can never be deceived. And it will feel good to your soul. So good.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Getting What You Deserve
Today our home makeover family returns. A week ago their charred timbers stood silent as the roaring equipment took swipes to level it to the ground. Now a house three times the size stands in its place - beautiful, clean and safe. People walk through each decorated room with jaws open, oohing and ahhing.
And then the question always comes in some form or another . . . "Do they deserve all this?"
The answer is "no".
This family has done nothing to earn the hundreds of volunteer hours or thousands and thousands of dollars in donations to plan, frame, build, floor and decorate this new home. They have done no acts of heroism, no great achievement, no historical discovery . . . they are just sweet simple people.
And they did nothing to merit their 9 year old daughter Samantha dying of H1N1 last fall. They did nothing to deserve a fire two months late that destroyed their safety, their memories, and their stability. They didn't deserve any of that.
That's where grace steps in. Grace is the healer that wraps it's arms around those in undeserved pain - and even "deserved" pain - and whispers the words "Be whole". Grace is the kindness, the unexpected support, the cheering on your side when all is lost. Grace is the movement to restoration, the smile of understanding, the compassionate listening. Grace is what makes the difference for all things deserved and undeserved.
God at the end of my life may I come to a great mansion with you. A home I do not deserve, but a place of hope and rest forever.
May I have grace to cover me, both my undeserved pain and my deserved - thank you God for being so big, so kind, so loving, that you have grace big enough to cover it all. Even when I do not deserve . . .
And then the question always comes in some form or another . . . "Do they deserve all this?"
The answer is "no".
This family has done nothing to earn the hundreds of volunteer hours or thousands and thousands of dollars in donations to plan, frame, build, floor and decorate this new home. They have done no acts of heroism, no great achievement, no historical discovery . . . they are just sweet simple people.
And they did nothing to merit their 9 year old daughter Samantha dying of H1N1 last fall. They did nothing to deserve a fire two months late that destroyed their safety, their memories, and their stability. They didn't deserve any of that.
That's where grace steps in. Grace is the healer that wraps it's arms around those in undeserved pain - and even "deserved" pain - and whispers the words "Be whole". Grace is the kindness, the unexpected support, the cheering on your side when all is lost. Grace is the movement to restoration, the smile of understanding, the compassionate listening. Grace is what makes the difference for all things deserved and undeserved.
God at the end of my life may I come to a great mansion with you. A home I do not deserve, but a place of hope and rest forever.
May I have grace to cover me, both my undeserved pain and my deserved - thank you God for being so big, so kind, so loving, that you have grace big enough to cover it all. Even when I do not deserve . . .
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Clash of Pride
We went to see "Clash of the Titans" yesterday. I really wasn't interested in seeing it. Truly, I dragged my feet and almost made us late. The movie just looked like a blast of swords, guts, sweat and demons. Not my favorite flavor of entertainment.
As I slouched in my deep theatre chair, completely devouring the buttery popcorn in my boredom, I was suddenly interested. Hmm. I sat up taller. Greek mythology. I remember . . . hmm. This could be interesting. So I gave it my attention. And then I was sucked in. Totally.
I won't ruin it for you, I'll just say go see it. It moved me to think deeper.
There is a theme throughout that struck me. Zeus continues to try and help his demi-god son Perseus conquer evil. Zeus sends gifts, a special sword, a Pegasus (horse with wings), a gold coin . . . and the young man refuses the gifts. Out of pride he wants to conquer the world himself. He does not want help.
In the end, our young hero surrenders and recognizes his dependence . . . as we all do.
And I realize that God is even more great than Zeus, even more kind and merciful, more pure in devotion for us His children, and more committed to our sucess than any great power in Olympus.
Everything God does is out of love. What gifts has He given you that you are not fully embracing along this road to conquering evil? And in your pride are you ready to accept His gifts so you can be victorious?
Isaiah 41:10 "Don't be afraid, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will help you. I will uphold you with my victorious right hand."
So, go see "Clash" and think about God. You are His child. Embrace the love He extends to you and see how victorious you can be.
As I slouched in my deep theatre chair, completely devouring the buttery popcorn in my boredom, I was suddenly interested. Hmm. I sat up taller. Greek mythology. I remember . . . hmm. This could be interesting. So I gave it my attention. And then I was sucked in. Totally.
I won't ruin it for you, I'll just say go see it. It moved me to think deeper.
There is a theme throughout that struck me. Zeus continues to try and help his demi-god son Perseus conquer evil. Zeus sends gifts, a special sword, a Pegasus (horse with wings), a gold coin . . . and the young man refuses the gifts. Out of pride he wants to conquer the world himself. He does not want help.
In the end, our young hero surrenders and recognizes his dependence . . . as we all do.
And I realize that God is even more great than Zeus, even more kind and merciful, more pure in devotion for us His children, and more committed to our sucess than any great power in Olympus.
Everything God does is out of love. What gifts has He given you that you are not fully embracing along this road to conquering evil? And in your pride are you ready to accept His gifts so you can be victorious?
Isaiah 41:10 "Don't be afraid, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will help you. I will uphold you with my victorious right hand."
So, go see "Clash" and think about God. You are His child. Embrace the love He extends to you and see how victorious you can be.
Friday, April 2, 2010
What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted
I love to watch American Idol and see the contestants grow in their skill and presentation. As a non-singer I truly appreciate their courage and tenacity under the scrutiny of tough critics.
The other night one of the final few sang "What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted" - and the words continue to swirl around in my head, stirring up memories and thoughts like leaves caught up in a wind devil.
"As I walk this land of broken dreams, I have visions of many things. But happiness is just an illusion, filled with sadness and confusion . . . I walk in shadows searching for light, cold and alone no comfort in sight."
Each one of us could sing that ballad. What becomes of the broken hearted? We've all had dreams that have crumbled, fallen apart, unravelled, or been swept away by the tides of change. With the loss of dreams, hopes are dashed and with the barren twigs of winter we can become cynical and angry, doubting that spring will ever come.
What becomes of the broken hearted?
Many of my clients are motivational speakers. They have ALL experiences a tragic loss, major accident, many times paralysis or horrific unthinkable challenges. And coming out the other side, now share their insights with others.
Then there are those I meet however, who, when dreams are lost and hearts are broken, follow the path of least resistance and become hostile, vengeful, angry and bitter. The difference between the two is all in how they answer that American Idol question - "what becomes of the broken hearted?".
My friend, how do you answer that question? Your answer, whether you realize it or not, is written boldly across your life.
The Bible gives us comfort here. God knew our greatest losses would take us to a barren place. God promises to meet us there and save us in our pain. Psalm 34:18 "The Lord is close to the broken hearted; He rescues those who are crushed in spirit."
We can be rescued and upheld when all seems lost. Even in the coldest winters God has spring planned for us.
As I look out the window of my beautiful new home I see evidence on the trees that new growth is budding. Spring is coming. The snow is melting, the sun is bright, and love and hope and joy steadily encourage me to trust again. Thank you God ~
What becomes of the broken hearted?
Your answer is written all over your life. Your answer to that question will drive every action in your life.
I choose to believe in spring. Hum to yourself today that tune. And ask yourself . . . what becomes of the bro - ken hearted? . . . da da da . . .
The other night one of the final few sang "What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted" - and the words continue to swirl around in my head, stirring up memories and thoughts like leaves caught up in a wind devil.
"As I walk this land of broken dreams, I have visions of many things. But happiness is just an illusion, filled with sadness and confusion . . . I walk in shadows searching for light, cold and alone no comfort in sight."
Each one of us could sing that ballad. What becomes of the broken hearted? We've all had dreams that have crumbled, fallen apart, unravelled, or been swept away by the tides of change. With the loss of dreams, hopes are dashed and with the barren twigs of winter we can become cynical and angry, doubting that spring will ever come.
What becomes of the broken hearted?
Many of my clients are motivational speakers. They have ALL experiences a tragic loss, major accident, many times paralysis or horrific unthinkable challenges. And coming out the other side, now share their insights with others.
Then there are those I meet however, who, when dreams are lost and hearts are broken, follow the path of least resistance and become hostile, vengeful, angry and bitter. The difference between the two is all in how they answer that American Idol question - "what becomes of the broken hearted?".
My friend, how do you answer that question? Your answer, whether you realize it or not, is written boldly across your life.
The Bible gives us comfort here. God knew our greatest losses would take us to a barren place. God promises to meet us there and save us in our pain. Psalm 34:18 "The Lord is close to the broken hearted; He rescues those who are crushed in spirit."
We can be rescued and upheld when all seems lost. Even in the coldest winters God has spring planned for us.
As I look out the window of my beautiful new home I see evidence on the trees that new growth is budding. Spring is coming. The snow is melting, the sun is bright, and love and hope and joy steadily encourage me to trust again. Thank you God ~
What becomes of the broken hearted?
Your answer is written all over your life. Your answer to that question will drive every action in your life.
I choose to believe in spring. Hum to yourself today that tune. And ask yourself . . . what becomes of the bro - ken hearted? . . . da da da . . .
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