Even My Desires

Sometimes God uses little moments to teach us big lessons. I had one of those moments three years ago. It feels like a good time to share it now.

I was on a trip with my parents. As we returned to our hotel one day, I suddenly got a craving for peanut butter M&Ms. I assumed that the vending machines wouldn't have them, but decided to look anyways. To my surprise, they had exactly what I wanted. As I was reaching into my purse for the money to buy my desired treat, Daddy handed me some money.

The amount was more than I needed for my candy. I didn't really need the sugary treat. I did have the money on hand to buy it, but here was my daddy wanting me to let him be the one to supply even this small desire.

Later that evening I started crying as God started showing me how He wants to be the one to supply even the little things for me. He considers even our desires. He wants to give us good things.

Whatever faults my earthly father may have had, I never doubted that he wanted the best for me. And God is saying that He--as a Heavenly Father--possesses this quality even more. Remember that Daddy gave me more than enough for my candy. God wants to give us more than enough.

I'm not saying that we always get what we want. Sometimes God says "no" because He sees that our desire is harmful to us or because He has something better to give us if we will let Him. But He does know and care about our desires.

"If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?" (Matthew 7:11)

I remember this lesson every time I look at a package of peanut butter M&Ms now. I hope it will be an encouragement.

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Notice: I am not paid to rave about peanut butter M&Ms. I am receiving no reimbursement for professing my love for this specific candy. I just wanted to tell a story.

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Want to read more of my little lesson moments?
Being Still 
Looking Up

Nadia Elizabeth

I've told the story about my son's name before. Before I miscarried, I had--only somewhat jokingly--asked the Lord what he was going to name this baby. When I miscarried, I developed a fixation on one of the names we had discussed: Nadia. It's a Russian name that means hope.

The morning after we agreed on the name, as I was reading my Bible I came across Proverbs 13:12. "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life."

What is a miscarriage if not "hope deferred"? And Nadia means hope. I took it as confirmation that the baby was a girl. We never got the opportunity to confirm the gender medically.

More important, though, is the promise that the verse gives. The desire...more children...is not cut off, only delayed, and when it does come, it will be a blessing.

The promise sent me searching for an appropriate middle name. I searched no further than Elizabeth. It was a name Sweetie had mentioned previously. The name means "my God is an oath" or more simply "oath of God." God gave His Word and He is His Word. What greater promise do I need?

While my heart will continue to ache for the child I lost, her name is now another little reminder of how God works in my life. The last time this promise was inspired to me, it was two years before I saw any fulfillment, but it was fulfilled. God may make us wait for a promise, but He never reneges on His Word.

It was a precious comfort to me. Personalized and perfect. I'm not surprised; God has a tendency to do that for His children. Man's ideas and platitudes may fall short, but God has a perfect balm for the wounded. May those impacted by my experience, or those with the same experience, look to the Lord for His perfect comfort.

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Being Still

A pair of killdeer made a nest in my parents' driveway this spring. After they hatched, I paused  to take a picture from my car, and I noticed something about the baby birds.




















They were perfectly still.

So still, if I hadn't already known how many babies there were, I might have missed one. Maybe it's an odd thing to notice, but I'd been thinking about being still for a while already...

Time for some more honesty. My health has not been good for years, and that's putting it mildly. The last year has been especially rough. Lately I've felt a strong desire to know what is wrong, but that desire seems to be countered by multiple songs and scriptures constantly coming to mind that mention being still.

It got me thinking. Does my worry count as being still? No, it really doesn't.

Does God know what is wrong? Yes.

Is He still in control? Yes

So why should I worry?

Those baby birds were not looking around trying to see what was wrong. They had to have known that something wasn't right, yet they held completely still. That was how they were safe. Had I been a predator, keeping still and letting their parents handle the situation was their best assurance of safety.

If only it were easy for me to keep still and trust my Heavenly Father to handle my situation. It's not easy, but I have felt inspired to let my worry go. I'm not actively seeking diagnosis; I'm simply trying to rest in the promise that God knows, God cares, and He is taking care of everything. (See Psalm 46:10)

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My Socks Don't Match!

How much time do you spend on laundry? Probably more than you would like. How much time do you spend matching socks? If all of your socks are the same, maybe not much. But if you have many different patterned socks the task can become time consuming.

I've recently decided to stop wasting so much time worrying about things like matching socks. Sure, it may be a little awkward, but life is too short to waste time worrying about something making you feel uncomfortable.

Sometimes three little words can make you uncomfortable: "I love you."

Do you remember the first time you said it to a boyfriend or girlfriend? Do you remember how terrified you were? It's because the words hold a lot more meaning than their mere eight letters would suggest.

Some families say it more often than others. Just like some families are more touchy-feely, or "huggy" than others. The thing is, life is too short to pass up the opportunity to say "I love you," to someone you really care about, whether by word or deed. Even if it's awkward.

Several years ago I felt impressed to go and visit my Aunt Wanda in the hospital. I was living in Little Rock at the time, and Oklahoma City was a simple weekend trip. While I did stay with my grandparents, the purpose of the visit really was my aunt. I enjoyed spending that time with her, even though it was a bit odd to go for the express purpose of seeing her. I was so glad later that I did it. It was the last time I saw her before she died.

The last time I saw my grandfather he was outside talking with some of the family. I felt too awkward to interrupt and say goodbye, so I just waved. We left on our trip back home, and I never saw him again. I wish now that I had overridden my feelings of discomfort and given him one last hug and said "I love you." But I can't change it now.

It makes me so glad that the night that Daddy passed that I got to say "I love you," one last time. I'm glad for the opportunities that I had and didn't pass up during his illness--to sing for him, sit with him, pray for him. I don't have regrets for anything I did, even if it made me uncomfortable at the time.

I try to be more mindful now to say "I love you." I never know when my last opportunity will be, and I don't want to neglect it. Feeling awkward over it is such a waste, and the regret really isn't worth it.

So if you catch me wearing mismatching socks, no, I haven't reached a new level of harried housewife. I'm just choosing to focus my energies on things of slightly more significance in the big scheme of things. Which would you regret more? Missing your last opportunity to say "I love you," or wearing mismatching socks?

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Looking Up

"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." Psalm 121:1

My dad took sick 6-7 weeks ago. He would start to recover, then relapse. Lather, rinse, repeat. Then his health really went downhill. 

Some of you already knew of this. Calls for prayer went out, and I know that God's people have been praying and fasting on our behalf. I think I speak for the whole family that we deeply appreciate each one that has prayed for us. 

I won't go into any details. I will only say that Daddy is very weak, and there have been times that we thought we were losing him.

One of my good friends came down last night to stay with me, and before she left this morning she reminded me, "by faith, and not by sight." It was something I needed, because when I got to my parent's house this morning, Daddy looked worse.

While different songs and scriptures have come to mind over the past few days, the one that I was inspired with this morning was Psalm 121:1. "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." My human eyes see what is before me, the reality of our situation. My faith looks up to God, the One in control of our situation.

Looking up is what inspires my faith. It is when I fail to look up that I become discouraged. It was when Peter looked around at the waves--at the reality of what he was going through--that he began to sink. But when he looked back up at the Master he was drawn back up. When my faith starts to waver, all I have to do is look back up. 

We are still in the midst of the battle. We still crave your prayers. Pray that we will continue to look up. 

And if you are going through a trial of your own, I encourage you to look up. God cares, and His people care about you. There has been such an outpouring of love in this battle. Look up. 

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