Snow Joy

I’m a Colorado girl through and through and today’s snow rocked! I love snow and as this blog is about three things, one of which is my romance with God’s creation, I wanted to share with you some of what I experienced today. I pray some of what God shared with me will be something that brings joy to you as well. Thank you for visiting my blog.

Driving home today, I saw this beautiful girl grazing away. 

I pulled to the side of the road and watched her for awhile. 

I love this kind of snow. It's the kind that makes the arms of the trees reach downward. 

I love how accomplished I feel when I can look backward and see a clean row of no snow. 

Shoveling is so satisfying. Plus, it makes you buff. Really. I'm sore and everything.

So, as I was shoveling and talking to God and thanking Him that I wasn't even cold, I felt the need to turn around. I looked behind me, taking my time looking at the snow covered neighborhood, and then I saw him. I was being spied on by this big boy.

Isn't he HANDSOME?!  I kept telling him so. 

He stayed awhile, eating the bush one bite at a time, and keeping watch over me. 

                     

Here I am drinking some hot chocolate (mostly eating the whipped cream off the top) and staying warm. My sweet mister is sick right now, but he still braved the cold to give me this sweet nectar. Love him.

Finally, what heavy snowfall Colorado day would be complete without a proper snow angel? 

Yes, I'm in my late 30's and I'm making a snow angel. You should try it. 

It will bring that childlike spirit right back! I don't remember the last time I did that, but it was glorious!

Dear Lord, thank you for this day. Thank you for the way the small flakes this morning were followed by big heavy flakes that left soft white blankets behind. 

Thank you for bringing that huge buck into my yard. 

Thank you for a husband who cares so tenderly for me. 

Thank you for keeping me company and keeping me warm while I shoveled. 

And, thank you for enough snow to fall into and wave my arms and legs at Heaven. I love you.  

My 500 Words A Day Challenge: Day 13

My 500 Words A Day Challenge, Day 13 Prompt:

TELL US ABOUT YOUR DAY
Prompt given by writer, Jeff Goins. 

(Save this assignment for the evening — or write about yesterday.

This is, basically, a journal entry but with a twist: make your day sound interesting.)

I turned to look at my husband and my lips pouted and my eyes drooped. It was coming to the end of another day in which I had not written anything and I was feeling like a failure.

“What’s the matter my love?” We stood around the island in my parent’s kitchen and his sweet smile stopped me.

“I’m supposed to be doing a 500 words a day challenge to build a good writing habit and I’m not doing so well. I need to do this tonight!  I have to!  What am I going to write about?”

“Costco?” My husband grinned. I didn’t.

“Costco? I don’t know. That doesn’t sound so fun at the moment.”

He walked out of the kitchen and began hooking the dog to her leash. I followed him looking for inspiration and then it came to me.

“I know! You take the dog out and you think of a word! When you come back in, you tell me that one word without saying anything else. And I will take it from there! This will be fun.”

“Ok, my dear.” The love of my life put his fleece hat on, shrugged into his burly tan coat and out the door he went. I took a deep breath and sat down in a chair by the door, waiting, wondering what he was going to come up with. He’d help me for sure.

So, what was the one word? I know you are as anxious to hear what he came up with as I am. The flashlight he was carrying shone through the window signaling his return and I scooted to the edge of the cozy red chair. Sydney, our golden retriever rushed in with the burst of cold winter air with my husband quick on her heels. I waited. He removed his hat, hung his coat in the closet and walked my way.   

He bent over, placing his hands on my shoulders with a reassuring squeeze.  “Love.”

I leaned back in the chair and looked at him in disbelief. “Are you serious? That is such a broad topic! Awwww man!” He continued to stand there, not saying another word per the rules.

“Ok, I’ll do it.” I shrugged my shoulders and stood up trying to bring courage with me.

“You can do it my love.” Again, he gave me that sweet smile that holds pure confidence in my calling to write. There was no doubt in his gaze to meet the insecurity in my own. With eyes twinkling, he walked away.  

I took a deep breath and returned to the kitchen where I made dinner and thought about my word, love. I stirred the potatoes and sprinkled them with precision with garlic powder and parsley. I stared into the steam that consistently was rising out of the pot of carrots. I even browned the sausages, turning them ever so gently as they sizzled, and through it all, I thought about love.

“Dinner’s ready!” I yelled and seconds later Sydney the dog was snuggling my thigh in case I dropped something. Her brown eyes were expecting that I would surely sneak her something. My Mom came in and filled water glasses. My Dad came in, sat in his chair and thanked me for making dinner. My husband was last to come in, hugging me from behind and kissing my cheek as I plated the food.

As we sat down and I heard my husband begin to pray, I couldn’t help but peek and take a look at him. My heart warmed at his belief in me and his willingness to play along as I figure out ways to reach my writing goals.  I glanced at my parents and felt the warmth of their home. And then, I saw my laptop. It was plugged in and waiting to be used as a tool to tap failure into victory.

My prompt was to write about my day and then my husband further prompted me with love, but not just the word.

I looked at my family, write about love? Yep, I can do that.

And here I am, at the end of today’s challenge, with everyone sleeping soundly in their beds and me about to close the lid on this laptop. 763 words?  So what if it’s midnight? I made it and that’s victory.

Until tomorrow…goodnight.  

Eating Memories

http://www.browneyedbaker.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/ginger-cookies-last.jpg

Have you ever eaten a memory?

I just did.

I lifted the gluten free ginger cookie to my lips and never expected to find myself childlike and young in my Grandma’s kitchen again. With one taste, I could see it all. My grandma standing there in her kitchen and on the counter top to the left, jars lined up where cookies waited for me and my brother and cousins. Sugar cookies, peanut butter cookies and ginger cookies, oh my!

Her floured apron, her wrinkled fingers reaching for our cheeks to give us big smooches, and her cookies, let us know we were home and that we were welcome. Grandma would laugh as we ran to the jars and stood on our tip toes reaching our arms down and into the jars to grab pure deliciousness.

“One at a time.” Her eyes would twinkle with that knowing smile that said she was fully aware we had already planned on going one by one through the jars as many times as our tummies would let us. No one made cookies like Grandma.

I continued to chew my first bite, slowly, closing my eyes and enjoying the long lost taste of my Grandma’s cookies. I never expected all that from a gluten free ginger cookie from a local bakery. I secretly was glad we bought a bag of cookies and not just one. I knew that the second cookie would allow Grandma to stay with me a little longer.

I miss my Grandma.  Eating this cookie right now makes me feel close to her. I would stand on a chair next to her counter and roll the dough into little balls between my palms, mimicking her movements. Then we’d drop them in the little dish and roll them in sugar making them sparkle. The cracks on the cookie made me remember how we would push the cookie dough balls down, just right, with the bottom of a glass. She’d put them in her oven and then we would sit at her kitchen table waiting, a cold glass of milk on standby.

All of those years of memories came from one cookie. I'm so thankful.

What memory have you eaten lately? 

Happy New Year!

As I write this, I am battling a case of bronchitis and because of that, the last few days and nights I have had breathing on my mind. In my inability to sleep or take a deep breath without coughing, I found myself remembering something that I had studied once. I remembered the word pneuma. It is a Greek word that biblically refers to the Holy Spirit or breath or wind.

Some of you can relate to the fact that although wonderful things happened in 2013, there were also moments of sadness and heartbreak as well. Regardless, my prayer is that the areas of our hearts that feel deadened by the pains of life would feel the fresh wind of the Holy Spirit breathe upon us.  We all have areas within us that can rejoice, but we also have areas that mourn and are saddened by the unfairness and uncertainties of life. 

Dear friends and family, we pray hope over you and for you. May you experience the life that He breathes into the darkest of places when you put your faith in His love. 

Jesus knew this world would offer us joy and heartbreak. Before he died and was resurrected he told those who loved him, “the Helper, the Holy Spirit (pneuma), whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you.  Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.” Luke 14:26-27.

I know I often find myself wondering why God does or allows the things that happen. As we can see in the verse above, Jesus was not unaware of how the world works or what our hearts response would be to what it offers us. He knew we would wonder why, that we would not automatically find ourselves at peace, and that we would have troubled hearts and would be afraid. But He has sent a helper, the Holy Spirit, pneuma…

And that is a reason for hope.

From my home to yours,

Be blessed and breathe deep the love of God in 2014. 

Climbing a Hill

Last weekend I had the opportunity to spend time with my nieces and nephews. Seeing a child's eyes light up as they return my smile and hearing their bursts of pure laughter are beautiful gifts to my heart.

One night, I found myself at the top of a hill as evening approached and the winter chill was setting in. My husband and I had just returned from a special birthday "date" with one of our nephews. We took him for a hot chocolate and cookie, just the three of us. He chattered on about so many things and this little man told us that one of the things he wanted to do was climb a hill. So, Uncle Chris stopped the car a little ways from our house and took Jude by the hand and said, "Come on Jude, let's go climb a hill." His smile beamed and lit up our world as he ran towards the small trail head. I took the car and drove the hundred yards or so home where his brother and sister were awaiting our return.

I told them Uncle Chris and Jude were climbing a hill and they instantly ran for the door and scrambled to get their shoes on so they could join in this adventure. Jonah tied his shoes like the big man he is, and his sister Idelette tried so hard to get her little Santa's elf shoes on so as not to be left behind.

We crossed the street and looked over the hill and there they were, Uncle Chris and Jude, climbing a hill. Idelette instantly jumped into my arms and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Hi Chris! Hi Chris!" waving her arms wildly until Chris waved back at her with matched enthusiasm. In front of us, Jonah scrambled a couple of feet down the hill and slid a bit in the dirt. Idelette saw this and clung a little tighter to me. I looked at her, blonde curls bouncing, and then our conversation went like this:

"Ok, you still wanna climb down?"

"Yeah!" Eyes gleaming, she was the picture of adventure. I went to put her down and after taking one step, she leaped back into my arms.

"I'm scared!"

"That's ok Idelette, do you want me to take you back inside?" I began to turn towards the house and found two little hands on my cheeks. I looked into those very serious eyes that were staring back at me.

"No, I want to go down there." She pointed with fierceness at where Jude and Chris were about to meet up with Jonah on a small trail in between climbing hills.

"Ok." I tried to put her down and she clung to me once again.

With my cheeks once again squished, she looked at me and smiled and said, "No. You. You take me down there."

I looked down the hill and realized that she was scared but was not going to turn back.

She didn't want to walk down the hill on her own and I could tell by the look in her eyes that she had no doubt in my ability to carry her all the way down the climbing hill with no problem whatsoever.

Knowing there was no arguing with this little adventurer, I looked again at the hill below me and said a quick prayer that God would keep my feet secure so I didn't drop this little girl's faith on the side of the mountain.

I looked back at her again and she was ready. I gripped her little body tightly as we started to descend. I used my full concentration and all my strength to stay on my feet, grabbing branches and using rocks to dig my feet into the dirt step by step. I was serious and focused.

Idelette was screaming, "Hi Chris! Hi Jude!  Hi Jonah! We are coming!" Her not so little voice echoed in the valley as she smiled and waved and had the time of her life "climbing" down the hill.

We reached the bottom, I gently set her down, and she took off running towards the boys. I stood there for a second to catch my breath and thanked God that I made it down without falling. I watched her joy explode as she joined the others in the birthday treat adventure to climb a hill.

Towards the end of our adventure, I prayed a little harder because I ended up carrying her back up part of the hill at her request. I prayed because I am out of shape and can barely carry myself up the hill, but God is faithful in our times of need, so we made it.

We walked back into the house as the coolness of the air and the darkness of evening fell. I caught my breath while listening to a few little voices recount the adventure to those who had been making dinner. I couldn't help but think that how Idelette was with me is how God wants us to be with Him.

She saw the adventure before her, and she wanted to go, but she was scared. How often does God call me on an adventure with Him and I have second thoughts and go back to the house to sit where it's safe and warm waiting to hear the stories of those who went for it? Too often, I hate to admit.

However, Idelette did not shrink back. She jumped into the arms of the one she believed could get her to where she needed to go. She not only trusted me, she enjoyed me and the ride along the way. I love being with children. They teach me so much about how I need to align my heart with the one whose arms are open wide to lift me up when I realize I just can't do it on my own.

I want to be like Idelette who wanted to go on the adventure no matter what. She was not ashamed or guilty about the fact that she needed help. I need to remember this and find freedom in this truth. I can't do this life on my own and it's not only ok for me to jump into His arms, but He loves it when I do. He will never drop me or run out of breath.

So let's all take a lesson from Idelette because:

We do not belong to those who shrink back and are destroyed, but to those who have faith and are saved. (Hebrews 10:39)

A little something about church...

Today was a refreshing day. I opened my eyes, and my husband was there with a cup of coffee and a good morning kiss. I love that man. We talked for a few minutes and decided to go visit a church we hadn't been to in awhile.

I enjoyed God's presence there. The worship was restful and the message was solid. I sat next to a man who smelled like marijuana. There was a man in front of us who looked like he might have just come out of gang life, but man, did he know how to worship. I saw every ethnicity represented there. I loved it.

As I sat there, I listened to the pastor preach about the hope that is found in Christ. He said that today was a the day to go home with hope and not despair. He preached about a future hope and a present deliverance.

I was energized by the people who were fresh with the joy of their salvation. I got to thinking about church in general. I wondered if the reason church is stale for many people is because churches have become something they were never meant to be. I wondered if many churches are filled with those who already know Christ instead of full with those who don't.

Maybe those of us who know Christ, and have walked with Him for awhile, are meant to be the church with legs. Maybe we aren't meant to be sitting in a building Sunday after Sunday looking for something we've already found.

For those who don't know Christ, it is a matter of life and death to have a place to go for counsel, for help, for a new start separate from the community they may feel trapped within.The church doors should swing open to anyone and be a place where safety is found within the walls.

But, so many of our churches nowadays seem to have become another place of judgement and where those seeking Christ just don't fit in. The dirty are often looked down upon. The routine has become more important than the relationship.

There will be a time when we are all clean and pretty and safe and can rest in our knowledge of God. But, I don't think that time is now.

Maybe the church buildings were meant to be the spiritual emergency rooms of the world and not comfortable places where we are entertained. Do we leave church on the lookout for the wounded, or do we go in and come out feeling better about ourselves and leave it at that? I know when I entered a church and found a seat in the back row nearest the door, I didn't care how cool the church made Jesus look or what kind of music they had. I didn't even care if there was coffee available. I was literally running for my life and looking for the only one who could save me.

Many times in the Bible, Jesus heals someone and then it says they immediately got up and and followed him, or served him. Christ called the disciples, and then they were moving. How many of us have responded to Christ and then found our favorite seat in church and stayed there Sunday after Sunday, month after month, year after year, and yet have never experienced the adventure that is walking with Christ?

This is not a criticism of any church, nor is it an advertisement for another. I just got to thinking that maybe we just need to be more on the move. When you're called to a purpose and you don't move forward towards it, life will become unsatisfying.

I, myself, will be praying about all of this. Am I courageous enough to follow Him wherever He may lead me? I know I will waiver, but he is faithful and will never leave me. He promised. He saved you and I for something. He gave you something to offer to a broken wounded world. What is your something?

Next Sunday, I encourage you to walk out the church doors with Him. Take a deep breath and really look at Him. He is most definitely in the church, there to save all of us who are not able to save ourselves. But, He is also alive outside those walls and walking with us every moment of every day. Where do you think Jesus and you might go together this week after Sunday? I'd love to hear where he takes you.

Only by His grace,
Aimee

Don't be afraid, for the Lord will go before you and will be with you: HE WILL NOT FAIL NOR FORSAKE YOU. 
Deuteronomy 31:8

Disarmed by Love

I got turned down for a job this morning. I was really excited about this job and even had a great interview under my belt. I read the rejection email, and in normal fashion, I sucked in a breath and braced myself. For what? I don't know, I guess to continue on with life. Rising to face another day where I'm not sure what the next step is.

I walked towards my husband who was in the other room and said, "I didn't get the job." I expected to hear him say "I'm sorry" so my "braced" self was prepared to say, "No big deal, God has a plan." After that I thought I would go about "doing" something so the hurt, disappointment, and pain couldn't settle on me. What else am I supposed to do when faced with another door locked to my touch?

My husband silently walked towards me and wrapped his arms around me and the only thing he said was, "I love you." At the tenderness of his words, I was disarmed by love. My attempt at having strength to face another deferred hope crumbled at the tone in his voice. He held me and God's love fell on me. No matter what this day holds or what the questions are that I have about this often hard to bear life we all live, our Lord longs for us to hear those words that He is speaking to us, "I love you."

I cried then. In the arms of love I couldn't help but grieve the loss of a hope I was holding. Some of us are bearing heavy loads of hopes lost today. No matter how small or big your hope seems, He cares.

My prayer for you today is this:

Instead of feeling like you must brace yourself against this life, I pray you would find yourself disarmed by love. I pray that in that moment today when you hear your God silence everything within as well as outside of you with three simple words that you would grieve safely inside of His love. 

He knows you have questions. He knows you have doubts. He knows you are afraid. He knows.

Yet, His answer remains the same. Close your eyes and listen with your heart, dear ones.

"I LOVE YOU."


Today hasn't been all that bad, I was rejected by the world today, but I was hugged by the love of Heaven.


Aimee