God's Heart for You.

[Judy Harder]

Where Do You Come From?

Nov 14 2011



I come from the northern suburbs of Chicago.

I come from powder puff wheels on blacktop driveways.

I come from apple-cinnamon pancakes made with love by my grandpa.

I come from banana seats on pink Schwinn bikes.

I come from funnel cakes at the mall.

I come from kick ball and 4-square on the playground.

I come from penny drops on the monkey bars.

I come from pierogies and the smell of apple cider vinegar for dipping.

I come from Caspar the Friendly Ghost, The Flintstones, and Popeye the Sailor.

I come from two working parents and after school at the neighbors house.

I come from cheerleading at the high school basketball games.

I come from Heads Up 7-Up in Ms. Ryan's second grade class.

I come from snowsuits, mittens, hats, gloves, snow banks and snowball fights.

I come from a father who loves music.

But more importantly...

I come from neighbors who cared enough to tell my parents about Jesus.

I come from vacation Bible school every summer from age five.

I come from children's choir at church.

I come from a mom and dad who made sure that we were in the pews every Sunday.

I come from youth pastors who gave all of their time to awkward kids, trying to find their way.

I come from inner city missions trips where I learned to see God in unlikely places.

I come from the communion table.

I come from summer church camps and winter retreats.

I come from singing His praise at the top of my lungs.

I come from poor decisions that I never would make again.

I come from His grace and mercies that are new every morning, praise Him.

I come from His word.

I come from a Heavenly Father who knows what my future holds.

I come from desiring to know Him better and to walk more closely.

This is where I come from. It made me who I am today. It is molding and shaping every choice that I make now, and in the days to come. Thank God He is there through it all.

Where do you come from?

By Jenny Yarbrough- The Southern Institute

It's Not for You, Sweet Thing


I cannot tell a lie: I want a smartphone. I want the handy internet access, the ability to take cute, easy pics and play with endless apps. And, hello? Ev-er-y-one has it. Or almost everyone.

But in this season, the Lord puts the kabosh on this for me.

The reason? Because I am not self controlled enough to own one. My laptop proves distracting enough, and tearing myself away from it takes willpower. To shrink that portable computer into something I can fit in my pocket or purse is mighty dangerous. For me, for now.

Until I learn to exercise more willpower with the laptop, the Lord says no to a smartphone. So in the meantime, my un-smartphone and I party like it's 2007.

Now, you may be perfectly sensible with your smartphone, so it holds a proper place in your life. But maybe the Lord has put the kabosh on something different for you, something you want. Something that is a good thing, just not a good-for-you-right-now thing. And I'm not talking about bigger, out-of-our control desires, but rather smaller ones. Maybe you fancy a new outfit for a special event. Maybe you want to attend that conference "everyone" will be attending. But for reasons you may or may not know, God puts up a holy barrier and whispers to your heart, "It's not for you, sweet thing. Not now."

Our lives hold no details too small for God's care and attention. If the Lord cares enough to count the hairs on our heads, He cares enough to steer our smaller, day-to-day choices. I love the way Sarah Young describes what this Jesus led guidance looks like:

"Walk with Me along paths of trust. The most direct route between point A and point B on your life journey is the path of unwavering trust in Me." Jesus Calling, p. 264

When I say yes to His no, I take steps forward in a direct route towards His trust. My steps here are small, but they're small steps in the right direction. When in obedience I show a heart's willingness to be faithful with the small, I show I can be faithful with the  big.

Maybe I'll have a smart phone next year. Maybe you'll attend that conference. Maybe not. Regardless of tomorrow, let's walk forward together today in obedience, trusting and believing His no to a good thing leaves space for a yes to a better thing.

Has the Lord whispered, "It's not for you, sweet thing. Not now." to your heart over the small lately? What better thing has come from saying yes to His no?

By Kristen Strong, Chasing Blue Skies

[Judy Harder]

On Community, Suffering, and Hope

Nov 15 2011

When we left "the ministry" after our first year of marriage, when Seth started law school and I the MFA in Poetry, we were so church sick, bone-weary soul sick, and we've found that this sickness is not unique to us, especially in our online community. More times than not, I'm coming across deep wounds, people left in a numb wake or angry at what should have been but wasn't.

We had started to say to ourselves that there are only so many times you can watch the innocent fall or we can only swallow so many fakes. We judged the judgers. We made fun of the so-called righteous, said, "we'll show them," our secret sin of pride growing thick with jadedness and sarcasm, breeding other secrets.

Underneath was an ache, the desire to belong and be loved, and through a long painful process that continues today, God is showing me and Seth the beautiful church, the mourners, the hungry, the weepers, the lonely.

He surrounded us with what some call a small group (life group or cell group), our Community Group and other friends who live as part of our family. These are people who have experienced such pain and such redemption, coming to us not as the answer to our pain but rather as people who join us in our pain. They join us there, and we sing from low position, how in this world we will have promised trouble, promised peace.

They show me the Not Yet, But Already (the Both/And) of God, how He is still so so good. We scrub house together, even though everything just gets dirty again. God is still so good, though what I used to call the church proved false.

Salvation belongs to the LORD and to no other, they sing it to me. He's coming for us, they sing it to me. This is His mercy, that all else fails.

Our family, the church, has entered life with us and given us such fresh perspective though they've seen with their very eyes last breaths, warring children, slavery, and starvation. Confession is the norm here, doubt, unbelief, struggle.

And as a woman working out my salvation as best I can, I've seen gorgeous God unfold in their healed faith, their honesty and humility – oh the beautiful church, there. I've had my pride revealed so gently, the hurt break open inside me, so that I long for my heavenly home with such zeal that this world is losing it's delicious charm.

It is intoxicating to witness Hope, one tiny fleck of scale falling from my eyes at a time.

How we worship, how we don't ignore the suffering, acknowledge the pain involved in this life and acknowledge the true Christ-Peace in the midst of it. We see each other, and we know it still hurts. We sit together in it – Pain and Peace, all at once. Peace is not pain-free, but the pain is transformed.

Those of us who endure the most pain here – not trying to find a way to keep from it, ignore it, or get around it – those of us who enter and endure it within ourselves and for others, we are the ones in the low trenches. Those of us in last place here, we will one day be first. We see pain in this world now, but I believe a time is coming that we'll be first to experience what it's like to be completely whole, when the "not yet" finally Is.

And just knowing that one thing helps us to say that It Is Well With Our Souls.

Praise God for the beautiful church, her (his) beautiful feet! It's not just what happens on Sunday. This is our small group (it's to hear, not to watch) on one Wednesday night. We do this every week, and I look forward to it all week long, count the days till I get there.

Tell us your story of the beautiful church. So many of us need to hear it.

By: Amber Haines

[Judy Harder]

Just As You Are

Nov 16 2011

Hello Friend!

The other day my husband and I wandered out to a nearby fruit and vegetable stand. Rows of pumpkins, gourds and other fall goodies lined the front. Families gathered around to touch, thump and observe each one.

Eventually a child would declare, "I want this one!" When a parent would squint their eyes and inquire, "Why that one?" the child would enthusiastically point and declare something like, "I like this bump! It looks like a camel!"

The parents would shrug their shoulders and then that gangly, unsightly gourd would be scooped up and carried home with love.

Chosen for its imperfections.

I can't help thinking it's much the same with us. Jesus looks at us and says, "I want that one!" Perhaps the angels tilt their heads in a bit of confusion and ask, "Why that one, Lord?" And He says, "Because what she sees as a weakness is actually a way I can show my strength in unexpected ways through her."

What would you change about yourself if you could?

What if that's the very thing God wants to use?

I run my fingers over the surface of a speckled pumpkin. It seems hard ground or challenging weather have etched rough lines on one side. I pick it up and feel its weight in my hands. It's still solid on the inside.

I catch a child watching me out of the corner of her eye, waiting to see if I'll put back that pumpkin–the one she clearly wants.

I lean in close to that rough surface, smile and whisper softly as I set it down, "Someone has good plans for you."

xoxo

– Holley

p.s. Fall is my favorite time of year! What's your favorite fall tradition? I love baking pumpkin everything–muffins, crisp, bread, etc.



Motherhood: An Unexpected Change

Mothering has changed me in too many ways to count.

There are the obvious things you'd expect to hear; it shifted my priorities, made me a expert matcher-of-sippy-cups-to-lids, and blessed me with some understanding of my own parents' love and sacrifice.

But at the end of that warm and fuzzy list, another change lurks in the shadows.

Becoming a mother has made me more sensitive to pain. Fear. Loss. It's almost as if I've developed a sixth sense that's every bit as powerful as sight. The sense of empathy for mothers and children who are hurting.

This instinctive empathy is a gift. A blessing. I know what to say when before the words wouldn't come. I can soothe, heal, and comfort with my hands. I have the patience to sit with a woman in grief or a child who's stuck on the monkey bars.

In another way, though, empathy can turn into pain by proxy. Now that I have children of my own I can't hear of a tragedy and not let myself go there, to that place of imagining another mother's pain.

The most dramatic example of this occurred in the aftermath of the earthquake in Haiti in January 2010. My daughter was then 8 months old and I was just finding my footing as a mother of three. I cried with the women who searched the rubble for children whose hands they'd held as the ground shook. I clicked through images on my computer screen and the pain washed over me in waves.

I sat in my comfortable chair nursing my daughter as her brothers played LEGOs at my feet. I prayed for God to arrive in that place of destruction and devastation.

But in that moment I came to understand that He was already there. He'd been there all along.

He was there when the earth shook, too, when the walls buckled, when the sky grew dark with dust.

God knows this life is hard. He knows our suffering, our struggles, our fears. But He is with us in the midst of our pain.

My prayer now is not for God to arrive in places of pain, but for the hurting to open their palms and receive Him.

By Mary Lauren of My 3 Little Birds

[Judy Harder]

How to Give Thanks Like an Artist

Nov 17 2011

We gather at the writing table, huddled close in a room filled with women. The murmur is low, occasional laughter cutting through the hum. We look around at one another, maybe ten of us there with our laptops. One mama has her baby swaddled tightly to her chest. Another pushes her glasses up further on her face. I wonder if she knows she just did that or if doing it is so much a part of her that it feels like a breath.

They are nervous, I can tell. The conference is in full swing by now and this is the last of three writing sessions I've helped to lead. I shake my head and wonder how I got here, sitting at the front table, offering my words to encourage others, flailing through the day like a crazy person. I ask who wants to go first and a brave one passes her laptop to her neighbor. We don't ask them to read their own work aloud, but to have another do it — so they can hear their own words read back to them through the voice of someone else.

She reads, and we are home. It is the fastest 30 minutes of the whole weekend. We fly through words like girls on bikes and in the listening, we learn more of ourselves. I can't believe I was nervous about this – these women are amazing. They are funny, gritty, singing poets. They learn life by writing it down. I get them.

When you find your people, your soul breathes deep. You can do it alone, but it isn't as much fun. Sometimes we are afraid of mingling with others who do the same kind of art we do because what if they do theirs better? But these women here, they are a gift, each one. We let one another in, so instead of a free fall it feels more like a jump.

When we write, we remember. When we read our own words, we understand. But when someone else reads words we wrote, we come alive. In this time of year for thanks and for giving, be thankful for your art. Be graceful in the giving of it.

How are you having someone else read your own words back to you in this season of your life? You don't have to be a writer – you may be passionate about cooking or home design or accounting or music or architecture. Have you made your art available to others in such a way as to allow yourself to come alive?

Emily Freeman makes art on her blog, Chatting at the Sky, and in her book, Grace for the Good Girl.

Thank you, Darcy, for the top image of our writing group.

[Judy Harder]

Choosing Faith, Holding On To Hope

Nov 18 2011

"The Christian's hope is sound because it is founded upon the character of God and the redeeming work of His Son Jesus Christ. For this reason Peter could call it "a living hope" (1 Peter 1:3). It is living because it rests on reality and not on fancy. It is not wishful dreaming but vital expectation with the whole might of the Most High behind it." (A.W. Tozer The Size of the Soul, Chapter 20 )

I can tell by the way he's hoping back and forth, from one foot to the other, he's nervous. His skinny arms are tight at his sides, like a little soldier but he's out of formation with that nervous jig he's dancing. I notice how he didn't volunteer this time to go first. I remember that fear.

He steps up onto the diving platform and I can see his growing muscles tense, the water shimmering on his perfect, nutty skin- he hesitates for a minute, then he just leaps.

We rally and clap for him as he emerges and I can see his grin from across the pool. His chest swelling a little with pride, with the triumph of having overcome. The satisfaction of having been willing, radiates in his confident steps as he walks the pool deck.

He did it.

Watching him step up to repeat the move, my lungs empty in a heavy sigh, I'm remembering all of the times when I was his age, and beyond, all of the moments of stepping up, taking that leap. And I wonder if I will ever stop being afraid. Faith cancels out fear. I learned this recently, and God repeats the lesson it seems almost daily for me lately. Constant opportunities present to choose fear, or faith, opportunities to hold on to hope. I'd like to say the choice is simple. Sometimes it is.

I'm still neck deep in learning how not to fear. In fearing, I lose hope. I'm still ripping the seams of this suffocating pride of mine that chokes out flickers of faith. I'm still reminding myself daily, that hope overcame death, so that I could live constantly under it's wings. I know I cannot do any of it myself and yet this human heart tries.

I'm learning to hope again. Learning to trust and believe that with hope in the cross, in the saving grace of Christ, I can overcome, not by my own strength, but by his.

I am learning, like my boy, to step up, to believe that when I leap, God will catch me. I am learning to hold fast to that hope because it does not disappoint.

For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. Romans 8:24-25

What does hope look like to you? Do you ever lose hope? How do you find it again?

By: Kris Camealy ~ Always Alleluia

Thanksgiving Table :: It Doesn't Have to be Elaborate to be Beautiful





Prettifying the Thanksgiving table doesn't have to be a super involved process. Really, I think people would rather have a good pie than a pretty table.  But, I still like to have a pretty table and I bet you do too.  Here are a few stress free last minute ideas:



Shop the house.

Group like with like and set out what you have:

leftover pumpkins and gourds
every candlestick and candle in the house
every rust color {insert your own color} thing you can find–books, ribbon, trays
wooden stool, wood bread board, cutting boards wooden anything you can group together
texture: baskets, doilies, leftover pieces of burlap
all white stuff
you could even decorate with book pages–let your kids rip apart some books
dig out some old black and white photos of the family from the past and use string and close pins and hang them from the chandelier


Shop the yard.

sticks
twigs
rocks
I've been known to decorate with weeds
magnolia leaves
BHG

Shop the grocery. You are going anyway, pick up a few things that will help your table

apples
nuts
a bouquet of flowers
cranberries
grab some extra green beans, asparagus and an artichoke and fancy up your candles like that photo up there
let the food take center stage and put cakes on pedestals and make paper turkey frills for your turkey legs all fancy like, and embellish with leaves and fruit and such
Martha, of course

You don't have to use real plates and napkin rings to have a pretty Thanksgiving.  We all know that the hostess sets the tone for the meal so like it or not, the most noticeable decoration–is our attitude.   Can I get an amen?

A few other ideas in case you aren't sure your attitude will do the trick::

How to Set Up A Buffet {it's a giveaway post from last year, ignore the giveaway part, sorry}

Pinterest Thanksgiving Table Inspiration

20 Ways to Decorate With Book Pages


I kind of prefer setting up a Thanksgiving buffet on the main table and letting everyone sit around the house–what does your family do?  Are you buffeters at Thanksgiving or do you all sit around the table?

[Judy Harder]

     

(in)courage
   
Nov 19 2011

Are you as tired as I am?

I'm so tired that I just pulled into my garage, quickly shut the door, and just sat in my dark car, in silence, with my head laying on the steering wheel. {I'm sure you can't relate.}

I wonder what the next few months will be like with the holidays upon us. I have a long list of want-to's. But with Tired as my needy, new best friend, I feel exhausted before I even begin.

{All of a sudden, I have an even bigger respect for my mom and for you. Yes, you. The ones that have seven children and energy to spare. The ones that run a business and a beautiful home. The ones that stay up late into the night to chase your art and still smile at the bible study the next morning.}

I don't feel creative. I only feel pressure. Which makes me more tired.

I get enough sleep. {Don't be jealous.} I try to take care of myself and eat healthy. Beyond physical, I wonder why I'm so tired? {I'm really not asking for health advice.}

Is it because I'm over committed? Not being able to say 'No.' wears me out.

Do I not know how to lean into the rest that He promises and provides? Rather, I call it stress and act like it's normal, some kind of trophy to be proud of.

Is my soul weary from battle, the very ones that no one else can see? Needing rest, I fight it like a young child before a much needed nap. I don't share the worries of my heart with those that really care about me.

Maybe I'm legitimately tired and need to give myself a break. I give everyone else one.

Maybe I need to let someone down and not show up. Maybe I need to say no to another serving opportunity. Maybe I need to not respond to emails so rapidly. Maybe I need to let things fall where they may for awhile. Maybe I need to take a nap in the middle of the day. Maybe I need to not apologize for not having it all together and tell someone else the truth. . . I'm tired.

But when I'm weary and worn out, for reasons that I can't control or those that I can, I go to my Life Source. For "the LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. God will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom." {Isaiah 40:28}

I remember that He had to command us to rest. {There must have been a reason for that. I don't feel so alone.}

And when He gives His children their 'promise land' that He destined us to possess {Yes, He has one for you.}, He reminds us that "The LORD your God is giving you rest and has granted you this land." {Joshua 1:3} He does the work.

I need to rest and possess the 'land,' step by step, that He is blessing me with. Each of our promise lands look different, but each usually takes a journey that can be tiring. God knows this and asks me to rest, rest in Him.

That seems a daunting task. But God has big hands that I can relax in and recover my strength.

But God says, "Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." {Isaiah 41:10}

by Stephanie Bryant, co-founder of (in)courage and now Creative Mastermind at S. Bryant Social Marketing.

[Judy Harder]

 Sunday Scripture

20 Nov 2011 10:20



"A new command I give you: Love one another.

As I have loved you, so you must love one another.

By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."

~John 13:34-35

[Judy Harder]

When A Chair Becomes A Throne

Nov 21 2011

One sharp act of separation.

I can completely identify with this moment. I have lived it, and I have the scars to prove it.

A long time ago there was someone who thought he was going to have to live through "one sharp act of separation". That man was named Abraham and he had a son, late in life, named Isaac. Abraham loved his son so intensely that his son actually became an idol to him. Finally, God told Abraham to sacrifice his son. God told Abraham to take his son up on a mountain and slay him as an offering to the Most Holy.

There is no doubt in my mind that Abraham would have rather taken his own life than the life of his son. But, he trusted God and was ready to make the sacrifice that God wanted. And, then God spoke and the plan was revised.

Pretty extreme, huh?

And, I wonder,

"Do I do what Abraham did– with my children? Do they slowly creep into the place where I am allowing them to reign on the throne of my heart?" Unintentionally, I can allow myself to be drawn into a place where I am so fascinated by what I can see that I don't seek that which I cannot see.

My 19 month-old daughter, Molly, died over 16 years ago, and I long to see her again. But, the truth is simple–she cannot be the reason that I want to go to Heaven. She is not good enough for that. She is not pure enough for that.

There was a verse that struck me, as though it were new, about a month ago. I was taken with it, so I wrote it down and hung it on my bathroom mirror.

"We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.

For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body."  2 Corinthians 4:10-11

While I was staring at the verse one morning, a thought occurred to me:

"I cannot carry around the death of my daughter. I have to carry the death of Jesus. The death of my daughter does not profit anyone. The death of Jesus has the power to save everyone."

I would never do it to harm anyone, and I would only be motivated out of a love for her– yet, it would grieve the heart of God if I allowed her life, her face, her story to reign in the place reserved for the Almighty. It would distance me from God if I allowed her chair to become a throne.

As the days of my life unfold, I don't want my story to merely reflect a woman who lost a child and endured, I want to have a faith that is constantly evolving and I want the Creator to be able to use me in the life I am living, not merely in the past I survived.

By Jacquelyn at Adventures in the Ordinary.



When You Don't Want to Say Thanks


Giving thanks. Sometimes it's hard to do when the holiday set aside for thanks-giving involves in-laws, slushy weather, disastrous kitchens, and crazy kids, not to mention those deeper extended family issues that materialize only on these blessed events.

But nonetheless, we are to do so. To give thanks, that is. And if you're like me, continual thanksgiving conjures an image of this mama who smiles with a knowing head shake at the eternal stickiness on the doorknobs. A risen-early woman walking amongst the fallen leaves in grateful worship to her Creator. Perfectly fine with the dirty dishes.

These can be true. But they're not usually true for me, if I'm honest. When I'm in the liturgical rhythm of laundry, laundry, laundry, my natural instinct is not to lift my arms in praise. I wish it was.

You know the only way I'm able to change my attitude from grumbling to grateful when I just don't feel like it?

I just choose to say thanks. I don't wait for my emotions to change.

I change Finn's dirty diaper, I scrunch my nose, and I murmur without a smile on my face, "Thank you God for this little body You've entrusted me with."

I open my inbox to untold unread emails and say, "Lord, thanks for this technology and these people in my life and this laptop." I'm still bummed about all the email I need to process.

I open the minivan door and witness the horror that is the cacophony of clutter, and I say, "God, thanks for these little people that are home with me."

And slowly, slowly, something miraculous happens. My heart changes. It really, really does. It's usually not unicorns and sparkles outwardly, but it is prettier on the inside.

I'm still not in love with the poop or the what-is-that-on-the-floorboard?, but I'm a little more in love with the Giver of Life. I'm more aware of the unbelievable gifts soaked in my life. I'm humbled.

And so it is the same on Thanksgiving Day. There's people and noises and casseroles and chaos, and often a sweet potatoed floor. And those perpetrators are reasons for thanks—they're gifts from God.

This season, don't wait for your feelings to flourish. Say thanks anyway, and see what happens.

In what parts of your life do you have to consciously choose to say thanks?

by Tsh Oxenreider, Simple Mom

[Judy Harder]

     

(in)courage
   

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Because Thanksgiving is More than a Holiday

22 Nov 2011
I've been addicted to speed.

So when nearly 40 of us speed addicts signed up for this university study —

who knew how impossibly beautiful the intervention could be?

I had done this, smeared my life into one unholy blur.

This was the intervention the university researcher offered: When we felt it in the veins, the stress racing ugly, the speed winding life angry, we were to audibly give thanks. Give thanks right out loud. That was it. It wasn't complicated. It wasn't easy.

The great stress intervention — was a straight up injection of gratitude.

We did this for two weeks.

I'd sling babies up on hips and I'd holler hard for kids to hurry — and do parents talk of this, how the clock can tick like thunder in your ears, and you can be lightning, striking hearts?



When the stress roils and I'm heavily under the influence of speed, then is the time for the stress intervention, and I'd breathe deep and I'd say it out loud:

"Thank You for crazy towhead kids. Thank You for ridiculous legos. Thank You for socks even if they mismatch. And thank You that we're here together, breathing together right now...that there's now."

And I'd be doing that, breathing deeper.

Giving thanks is profoundly life giving.



But an hour later, I'd be popping it down again, perfectionism like a pill, and the hurry, it makes us all hurt, and I've seen the ache in the eyes of my children. Why in the world do we do this?

I've about torn my hair right out, my heart right out, for the pure, aching rush of it all.

Each time it comes easier, to interrupt stress with thanks, the time after that even easier.

For fourteen days, we interrupt every stress with straight gratitude.

There's a 53% decrease in stress.



Stress decreases by half – simply by multiplying our thanks.

Why in the world don't we do this?

It wasn't complicated. It wasn't easy.

It was beautiful, the way thanksgiving gave us our lives back. The way we laughed again.

Isn't this what the gift the children really want?



I see how one son here, wound and frayed, how he struggles to talk. Secondhand smoke, it can choke a kid but secondhand stress  — it can just about crush him.

A thousand children in a study, that is what they wanted more anything: not more time with their parents, but their parents to feel less stress more of the time.

Nearly half of all children said that how their parents most failed was  that they failed to control their own anger. But if they counted their own blessings – they could.

Why don't we do this?



If gratitude is an antidote for anxiety...

and giving thanks is a real cure for stress —

why relegate thanksgiving to a holiday when giving thanks can revolutionize our whole lives?

I watch how she reads. I watch how the light falls. I watch how the gifts fall.

I do this, record the the gifts, gather the moments like manna.

It's could be this feast everyday — a Thanksgiving Feast everyday.


People who keep gratitude journals are 25% happier. Twenty-five percent happier.

Is this why God commands us to always give thanks?

What sane person doesn't want to be 25% happier?

Why in the world don't we do this?

Joy is always a function of gratitude — and gratitude is always a function of perspective.

If we are going to change our lives, we're going  have to change is the way we see.

This recording our gratitudes, this looking for blessings everywhere, this counting of gifts–  this is what changes what we are looking for. This is what changes our perspective. 

Thanksgiving is the lens God means for us to see joy all year round.

The light's getting gloriously caught in her hair.

The stress untangles.



The moment's a gift, a grace, and I chronicle it in the One Thousand Gifts app...

"The sound of the marble roller and her talking to herself, singsong... "

and speed slows to wonder.

Why miss our lives?

All the ways He loves?

This is the gift all the children want : us all here and awake to crazy Grace.



Us all in this world addicted to speed, unwrapping the real secret of time management, unwrapping the fullest life:

In the stressful times : seek God

In the painful times : praise God

In the harried times : hallow God

In the terrible times : trust God.

And at all times — and at all times –

Thank God.

And there is it, at the beginning of gift-giving season — the light slanting everywhere, the stress all ebbing — and us His children counting the happy grace of all His gifts...

Because Thanksgiving is more than holiday–

It's the Way to Wake up to Really, Fully Living

The One Thousand Gifts  App is our free gift to you this Thanksgiving... making life application of giving thanks everyday easier — and making life transformation an everyday reality.

Wherever you are, count your blessings, collect gifts, count it all joy. Because there's no way to enter into His courts but through the gates of Thanksgiving — and it's only in His presence is fullness of Joy!

The free app makes everyday Thanksgiving:

~ Launches with a quote from One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are

~ Invites you to chronicle a gift with text or with photo.

~ Automatically chronologically counts and date stamps your gifts.

~ Allows you to search your gifts, scroll through your gifts, and share your gifts — via email, Facebook or Twitter. Stand in the assembly and give Him thanks, give Him glory! We were made for this!

~ Scroll through the #1000gifts Twitter Stream and read a symphony of thanksgiving to God!

Count Gifts — and know You can count on God... Keep Calm and Count On.

Download the free app at iTunes and for android devices– and invite one friend to take the dare to count gifts with you this gift giving season... because who doesn't want the gift of being 25% happier?

Wherever thanks is possible... joy is always possible.



<a href="http://onethousandgifts.com/get-the-app/" mce_href="http://onethousandgifts.com/get-the-app/" title="one thousand gifts app"><img src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6110/6379625099_23f65ba0fc_m.jpg" mce_src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6110/6379625099_23f65ba0fc_m.jpg" width="240″ height="159″ alt="one thousand gifts app"></a>

~ Ann Voskamp


Q4U:

How is stress hurting you? Your relationships?

What's your plan to manage stress this holiday season? How is giving thanks part of your stress intervention plan?


How is changing your perspective changing your life? How is giving thanks changing your life?

Join the conversation by clicking here...

[Judy Harder]

My New "To-Do" List

Posted: 22 Nov 2011 10:30 PM PST


Thanksgiving is upon us, so I've made my list, and am checking it twice:  Mashed Potatoes (the Make Ahead recipe),  Cider Baked Turkey (purchase the juice), Butterhorn Rolls (for Gratitude Rolls),  Pumpkin Bars, and I must remember to cut out the card stock for the Leaves of Thanks tradition.

There are so many things to do today as I rush to ready ourselves for our grand feast: a feast to feed the tummies of so many of our loved ones. Yet as I rush, shop, clean, cook, bake, and referee, sometimes I forget to just breathe, and savor the moments we are creating.

While I want to feed tummies, more importantly, my desire is to feed souls.

Will you join me in re-evaluating the check list and prioritizing the essentials for your weekend?

I've scribbled my new "To-Do" List.


Feed Gratitude. As I nurture this quality, joy thrives.
Feed Flexibility. Our best laid plans may not happen. Guests will be late. Food may get cold, but in the scheme of things, it's nothing.
Feed Patience. (Lots of Patience)  A hot-tempered man stirs up dissension, but a patient man calms a quarrel. Proverbs 15:18
Feed Laughter. There's nothing better than cultivating an atmosphere of deep belly laughing after a satisfying meal.
Feed Contentment. With all the Black Friday Sales, it's difficult to remember the balance of "need vs. want."
Feed Compassion. Even though Old Aunt Sue has shared the same story for the fifteenth time, make her feel as if it is the first.
Feed Encouragement. We're fragile. A blessed word makes hearts soar.
Feed Forgiveness. This is the year. Lay it at His feet. Let our Lord carry the burden. Extend forgiveness. Experience freedom.

As I savor the moments of family time this weekend, my "To Do" List reminds me:  Feed Them.
This weekend, slow down and remember to feed their soul, their heart, their imagination, their creativity, and of course, their tummy. When the turkey is gone, and the mashed potatoes are cold, all that is left are the shared moments and memories of doing Life together, and I want to make the most of them, don't you?

What could be added to your new "To Do" List?
Jen Schmidt shares both the beauty and bedlam of her everyday life at Balancing Beauty and Bedlam.

(This post was inspired by Lisa Leonard's precious necklace.)



you feel it?  The air feels crisper, and color is bursting forth everywhere.  God, the designer of seasons, is beautifully transforming the canvas of our world right before our eyes. Just as He colors the leaves, He delights in creating a new portrait in our hearts.  Two years ago, a metamorphosis began for me.  A single gal for 42 years, I honestly had no hopes of marriage.  I had not had a date in 9 years.  Then, one day, God changed everything. What a joyous season! – flowers, invitations, and an outrageously expensive white dress filled my days.  The picture would have been perfect had it not been for one dark shadow.  Cancer.  The same day as my bridal shower, a group of us gathered to cry out to God for a dear friend's healing – my best friend's beloved husband had been diagnosed with stage four Lung Cancer.  Her darkest hour came during my sweetest season.  As we gathered together, locked hands, and raised our voices to our Maker, our hearts united and drew strength from one another and from our Savior.  Joy and sorrow mixed during that night of prayer, and we walked out in hope. The vision of my dear friend and her husband surrounded by men praying over them gave birth to greater faith and perseverance in the midst of an unbelievable season.

Isaiah encourages us "to know how speak a word in season to him who is weary."   A small gesture today could breathe life into someone's darkness:

Call someone to catch up and pray for them
E-mail an encouraging verse
Buy someone a cup of coffee
Send a funny card to make them laugh
I am so thankful for the power of prayer and friendship.  As the seasons change, we  must remain present and available to one another. May God teach me how to be an encouragement "in season and out."

By Lyli, 3dLessons4Life