Giving Thanks

Days like these call one to remember.

As I sit here, filled to the brim - no! overflowing - with good things, I am driven to thanksgiving. I can't help but remember, in a moment like this, all the times that He's been faithful. His mercies are indeed new every morning. Even when I am tired; even when laid low; even when remorseful and prostrate over my sin... still, in the midst of my never ending shortcomings... He is faithful. And I cannot help but fall to my knees in thanks and praise for the endless blessings He has bestowed on my life.

Let me briefly count the ways.

I am blessed with a strong, Christ-centered church and daily opportunities for ministry. I am blessed (perennially!) with a strong Christ-centered family who every day encourage me and spur me on toward love and good deeds. (It doesn't get much better than that, does it?) I am blessed by the opportunity to go to school (yes, it is a blessing) and study one of my favorite things - Spanish. I am blessed by all of you every day... my friends who have encouraged and supported me in so many, many ways. I wish, friends, I could tell you just how much.


And then, of course, there are things like these....




my second home...

carne asada...

.... Team Caborca...

Days like this....

And nights like this.

Sunday nights. Random phone calls. Good conversations. Music. Worship. Old Testament Survey. Tia. Learning Spanish. RE-learning Spanish. Sunsets. Stars. Learning truth. Swing dancing! 4 hour nights. Italian modules. Movie nights. Antique stores. Books worth reading. Moments worth waiting for. Growing relationships. Searching the Scriptures. Sweet hours of prayer. Proclaiming the Gospel of salvation! The Valley and the Height. Singing old hymns. Cranberry bliss bars. Surprise parties. Finals. Much needed sleep. For even those moments that try the soul.

(Note: all of the above and so much more.)

Now here comes the best part.

And then, amidst it all, above everything else, first and fore-most... there is the unchanging, unwavering, continual faithfulness of God. What beautiful truth! It ever calls me to rejoice. There are His great promises that never fail... even in our weakness. There is His Word - double-edged sword and faithful guide - and His great mercy that never fails.

I have seen, in this past year, so much of His goodness. I have seen Him work in hard hearts. I have seen Him use a group of tired, hot, and weary people to make His glorious name known. I have seen Him prove faithful in every trial I have encountered.

While in Him confiding, I cannot but rejoice.

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My God is true each morn anew

He leads me that I shall not fall,

Wherefore to Him I leave it all.

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Oh, and by the way....

I have discovered anew the beauty of hymns. A ministry through Christ Community Church in Tennessee called "Indelible Grace" has been "recovering" hymns... taking amazing old lyrics and giving them new life. Immerse yourself in prayer, then in Scripture... then immerse yourself in these. Matthew Smith, Derek Webb, Sandra McCracken, and Mr. Haseltine (lead singer of Jars of Clay) are just a few among the group of artists who have been collaborating on this project. Great stuff. I recommend them to any and all.

And yes, they ARE from Tennessee, so a few of their renditions are a bit "country" for my taste... but the lyrics remain the same. With titles like "Whate'er my God Ordains is Right" and "My Lord, I Did Not Choose Thee"... I am more than willing to overlook slight taste preferences.

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Dragging my Sword

The heat of battle had died down long ago, and, exhausted, I stopped by the wayside just to catch my breath. How the sun beat with ferocious heat - how the saving links of my armor seemed now all but chains. Miles, hundreds of trodden miles lay behind - miles spent in the thick of warfare. Oh, how proudly had I wielded my royal shield; brandished high the magnificent sword of old, marked with the unchanging emblem of the great King. Many battles had I fought in his service, sacrificing life itself in his war.

Yet oh how the days, the months, the years had passed - so slowly. How many hours spent in seemingly wasted watchfulness, unfulfilled days upon end. The glory days of my triumphs were all but forgotten, many of my companions lost and spent in battle. My proud shoulders sagged low under the weight of cast iron; my knees bent against my will beneath me. I stepped just outside of the ranks of my countrymen to rest a moment.

Just a moment! And yet - slowly - I grew more conscious of thirst and my own deadly exhaustion. Oh, for even a small drink of water; for a few moments of rest.

As I struggled for breath, for strength to go on, I noted a broad, open path diverging from the road of battle. Tall shade trees lined the pleasant walk, and faintly, just down the road apiece, my delighted ears met the sound of flowing water. A cool breeze blew in from the east, caressing my battle-worn face with the promise of rest.

I was beckoned.

Only a moment's hesitation met me then: I looked back, back at the never-ending lines of fellow soldiers stretching to the horizon without end. Forward, forward, forward, always forward, without looking to left or right... without turning. Without compromise - wisdom called to me. Do not stray! Listen.

I had listened long enough.

My countenance newly illuminated, I tread with alactrity further, further, down the inviting broad path, spurred on by the never ending desire for temporary rest.
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Hours passed, and alluring invitation led finally to cruel torment. A painted mirage had fooled my tired eyes, and upon this broad path beat a terrible sun, the sand beneath hardened by thousands of the former deceived. Many miles behind I had shed the weighty breastplate that covered my weakness... beside it my precious helmet, now far too heavy and ultimately worthless to me. My feet uncovered, I no longer ran - my weakness ravaged and displayed. All now left was my dragging sword.

Suddenly the sound of water again reached my thirsty ears, and, with regathered alacrity, I stumbled forward, towards it - reaching wildly with my one free hand, my eyes blinded and aching. Sound became sudden sight, and forward I ran to awaiting stream. I knelt beside it, cupped my hands, and brought them up eagerly to dry and cracked lips. The water, at first cool and refreshing, was bitter reek in my mouth, and I spat it back into the poisoned stream from whence it came. Desperately I raised eyes and fist to curse the heavens and suddenly froze.

I was surrounded. Surrounded by the dread archers of the enemy, made captive by my own dreadful thirst, victim of my own unquenchable desire. I lowered my head and hands before them in surrender.

It seemed days and silence continued. A sound of retreat then; troubled voices; rushing feet. All was then still. Silence. The air hung heavy with anticipation; I could hear my own heart beat.

Ever so slowly I raised my eyes, uncertain. My life hung in the balance of this one look.

There before me, in all his majesty, stood the great King himself.

Surely this was my end.

I fell face down before him. "My Lord!" I cried in my despair. "Forgive me! I have sinned before you and was led astray. And yet my strength is sapped; I cannot seem to go on. I am overcome.

My Lord, what must I do?"

"Do no more on your own," the great voice replied. "Strive for yourself no more. Have you so quickly forgotten your anchor? You faint with the weight of your own determination. Look up! Take up thy cross and follow me - and then, in me ... you will rest." _______________________________________


2 Corinthians 4:7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; stuck down, but not destroyed. 5:7 We live by faith, not by sight.

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In the Secret of His Presence
by Sandra McCracken

In the secret of His presence
How my soul delights to hide
Oh how precious are the lessons
That I learn at Jesus' side

Earthly cares forever vex me
All my trials lay me low
But when Satan comes to tempt me
To that secret place I go -
To that secret place I go.

When my soul is faint and thirsty
'Neath the shadow of Your wings
There is cool and pleasant shelter
And a fresh and crystal spring

And my Savior rests beside me
As we share communion sweet
If I tried I could not utter
What He says when thus we meet;
What He says when thus we meet.

Only this I know; I tell Him
All my doubts, my griefs, my fears
Oh, how patiently He listens
And my sorrowed soul He cheers

Dare you think he ne'er reproves me
What a false friend He would be
If He never, ever told me
Of the sin which He must see -
Of the sin which He must see.

Would you like to know the sweetness
Of the secret of the Lord?
Go and hide beneath His shadow
And this shall then be your reward...

And whene'er you leave the silence
Of that happy meeting place
You will surely bear the image
Of the Master in your face;
Of the Master in your face.