Day 4

I saw many beautiful things today, because I was with God’s beautiful people. And they are beautiful, you know, and getting more so every day they walk with the Lord and are changed to be more like Jesus Christ. It’s funny how easy it is to notice the warts and the wrinkles and the sharp edges, until we gather together to concentrate on the Lord Jesus. Then, all humbled together before Him, we look at one another with new love, and say, with Christ as He is depicted in Psalm 16:3, “As for the saints who are in the earth, they are the majestic ones in whom is all my delight.”

Wow, I am thankful for my brothers and sisters in Christ! There is no one else with whom I have so much in common, and with whom there is such mutual understanding. This evening we went to visit a nearby church for their evening service, and when people I’d never even met stood up to give testimony of the Lord’s goodness to them, there was an instant connection between us, a sense of, “Yes, that’s the same Shepherd I know, alright!”

And I smiled with the knowledge that I get to spend all of eternity with these people! Then we will all be made perfect like the Lord Jesus, and we will rejoice together in the same Lord Who loved us and bought us with His blood from every tribe and tongue and kindred and nation (and background, and social ranking, and economic status, and vocation, and education, and all the other things that stratify us on earth.) The only thing more beautiful that I can think of, is the Face of the Lord Himself, and the fact that we’ll be in perfect communion with Him too, in that day!

Day 3

Day 3

Today was one of those unlovely March days, with a mix of snow, sleet, and rain drizzling all day to ruin our lovely snow and turn our roads into mysterious canals of slush and frozen ruts, full of slippery surprises.

There were two things especially that struck me as beautiful today. One was the face of a dear woman in her seventies, who has spent her life reaching out to children with the good news of Jesus Christ. Her face is wrinkled just the way I hope mine wrinkles some day, in a tracery of soft creases that fit beautifully with smile lines. It is a quiet face, with serious, penetrating, wonderfully loving eyes. She opens her mouth in wisdom, and the teaching of kindness, is on her tongue. (Proverbs 31:26) I hope I’m like her when I grow up.

The other beautiful thing I saw was a set of red shutters. They were fine, new-looking shutters, a lovely brilliant hue of red, but they were especially beautiful because they were on a rather run-down trailer home. They were like a happy chuckle from someone who is making the best of a less than ideal situation, and doesn’t see any reason to feel sorry for himself. If I live in a trailer home someday, I should like to have red shutters.

Day 2

Day 2

It sure was easy to pick out a beautiful thing for Day 2! I was working my third 12-hour shift in a row, and so I felt less than enthusiastic about getting up that morning. But as I stepped out into the 10-degree morning, the beauty was dazzling. The sun had just broken above the horizon, flooding the world with rosy pink light just like turning on a light switch. As I drove down the road, beneath the tunnel of trees all dressed with the latest style of snowy embellishments, I rejoiced to be alive to see such a day—and I decided it might be worth going to work just for the privilege of being out and about on such a morning!

Fresh, puffy snow had covered everything, and the sunshine, still low on the horizon, traced a shadow-world against the brilliant surface—a parody landscape of ridiculously stretched houses, trees, fenceposts, and cars. I marveled again that I have such a beautiful commute—I pass two dairy farms, a goat farm, and lots of fields and forests, dotted by old farmhouses and insubstantial trailers, many of them with wisps of wood smoke trailing from the chimneys. The homes bespeak the people who live in them—not rich, except in ingenuity and resourcefulness, a bit battered and run-down, but standing bravely through another winter. I’ve really come to admire these Mainers, especially the rugged elderly folk who have weathered 80 or 90 years of bitter cold winters and short growing seasons. They strike me as nobility dressed in heavy boots and flannel shirts, men and women with natural dignity who at the same time glow with congenial down-to-earthness. They are a generation of loggers, farmers, and factory workers, who have developed a cheerful attitude toward hardship—like the little old lady who, when I told her I had come to start an IV, responded cheerfully, “Good!” Perhaps seeing my surprised look, she followed up with, “I guess if it’s got to be done, you might as well do it!” Or there’s the fellow whom I pass on my way to work; he strides cheerfully down the sidewalk through the frigid air, carrying his lunchbox in one hand and his coffee mug in the other. Apparently he missed the memo that he is supposed to feel sorry for himself for having to walk to work in the dead of winter.

I’m proud to call these people my neighbors, and privileged to help care for them and learn from their plucky attitude!

Day 1

Day 1

I was at work on Day 1 of the Savoring Glory challenge. It was an incredibly busy day in the emergency room where I work, and to be honest, I saw a lot of unbeautiful things and realized just how important this challenge will be! After all, it’s easy to get a rather warped perspective on the world when you work in a place like that. There really isn’t anybody who drops by the ER to tell you what a great day they’re having!

Nevertheless, I did come across some beautiful things. One occurred in a rather distressing setting. I was caring for a child who needed to have an IV placed, and while the nurses (not me, I was happy to pass off the job for those more experienced!) were trying to place the IV, the little boy was crying at the top of his lungs. His mother and grandmother were helping to hold him down, and as the process continued, the grandmother asked me to take her place at his shoulders. I looked at her face and realized that tears were streaming down her face just as profusely as on the face of the little one. My heart went out to her, and I realized how much it was costing her to do what was best for this beloved little one.

I thought how often the Lord has to subject His child to some difficult thing, sometimes in correction but sometimes just because it will be for the loved one’s ultimate good. We cry out in our pain and think that God is cruel to hold us in the place of anguish, for we cannot fathom how there might be any good associated with this affliction. But I wonder how often, if we could see into heaven, we might realize that the One Who has been touched with the feelings of our infirmities (Hebrews 4:15) is as eager for the pain to be over as much as we are! He would never cause His beloved child to suffer a needless twinge of pain, never mind a great affliction. And yet His love is too strong to shield us from what will ultimately bring blessing.

I thought about this and other glimpses of beauty that I had seen throughout the day, on my drive home. My headlights highlighted the snow, which was falling fast. I love snowstorms, and even when they make my commute a bit slippery, I can’t help but enjoy them. At any rate, I was still pondering which beautiful thing to write about, when I forged up the still unplowed driveway, and saw the most lovely sight of the day. My Dad, bundled up in his fur hat and big coat, was out shoveling a path for me from my parking place to the house. What can I say—I was just so touched! Chivalry is very much alive, and I’ve got to be the most blessed daughter on earth. =)

Savoring Glory--My 30 Day Challenge

A while ago a friend sent me a link to this video, introducing me to the idea of setting goals to do something new for thirty days straight. http://www.ted.com/talks/matt_cutts_try_something_new_for_30_days.html

At the time I watched it, I didn’t have any inspirations, but the other day it came to me; for thirty days, I’m going to make time each day to notice and write about something beautiful I encountered that day. There are several reasons:

1) I’ve been in a big writing slump lately, and need a manageable way to get back into the habit of picking up my pen (okay, keyboard) and recording some of the things worth remembering each day.

2) I’m discovering that my attitude is at least as important, if not more so, than my knowledge. I really don’t need to understand many of the mysteries of life in order to live well, but my attitude will permeate every single thing I do, and will either be a weight or a buoy to all my efforts. When I am rejoicing in God, I am walking in fellowship with Jesus Christ, “in Whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.” (Colossians 2:3) And joy, like love, is far more a decision of the will than an emotion of the heart. It means intentionally noticing the things that God does, reveling in His glory and power, and doing what I can to ensure that in the midst of this sorrowing, ungrateful world, God will be able to look down and see one heart that is thankful for at least a fraction of His gifts.

3) In January, the Lord began to show me just how much I was in the habit of being ungrateful, and He has been reminding me continually to give thanks. Since I began to consider gratitude as one of the “must do” items on my daily agenda, my life has been so suffused with joy and delight in God, that I can’t attribute it to anything but His gracious blessing in return for a rather weak effort on my part. I can’t help but think how many more joyous people there would be in this world if we began to habitually count our blessings, and how much more God would be glorified in His people! Frankly, I don’t see how people who do not have a relationship with God, can find ultimate joy in this life, because the gifts are truly made precious by the love of the Giver. But those of us who are His by faith in Christ Jesus, have been absolutely deluged by the goodness of God, and gratitude ought to be only commonplace!

I’m going to endeavor to post my daily observations on my blog and on Facebook (that will help keep me going)so I invite you to join me on my thirty-day adventure—and if you’d like to try it yourself, I would love to read your experiences, too! It certainly would be a lovely contribution to the Facebook climate!

My idea was to do this for the month of March (which will be very timely, as March is, in my opinion, the most uncongenial month in New England). I’m a bit late with the first couple posts since I was working the first couple days and didn’t have time to post. But I’ll try to catch up here and go forward on a daily basis. Feel free to pester me if I’m slacking!

Endings are such a good time for reflection. In the midst of a whirlwind week of packing, cleaning, organizing and rearranging the house, getting together with friends whom I won't see again for a while, and finishing up at work, I find myself pondering the things about life that seem to become more obvious in retrospect.

One realization is just how blessed I am to have so many people who love me and whom I love. I HATE saying goodbyes, but sometimes goodbyes cause me to value my loved ones even more than I usually do.

I remember when I realized a couple years ago that loving and hurting go hand in hand; if you love someone, you are signing up to be disappointed and hurt--no matter how much the other person wants to avoid disappointing or hurting you. There just is no way that another human can possibly do the right thing every time, or meet all of your expectations--and ultimately, there are painful goodbyes involved, too. True love always involves sacrifice; to love someone is to commit to give of yourself and to put the other person's interests ahead of your own.

Why is it, then, that giving of oneself seems to result in overflowing richness? Why is it that as I look back at the relationships I've had with people around me, I feel most enriched by the people to whom I gave the most of myself, my time, my prayers and sympathy? You might say that they cost me the most, but now I feel more enriched by them than by those whom I only loved as far as it was easy.

And when I remember the times that I refused to demonstrate love, deciding to spare myself the sacrifice, I remember them as times of poverty--poverty of joy and fulfillment and peace. When I chose to keep for myself, I was impoverished; when I chose to give, I was enriched.

These years could have been a lot easier. But, except for the times when my selfish decisions got in the way, they could not have been more blessed.

Perhaps this is the secret behind Jesus' words, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." (Acts 20:35)