In All Things

One of the books I’ve been reading lately is One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. The premise is to give thanks for all the little things we rarely notice so that we can become people of gratitude. Some of the items Ann gives thanks for are the rainbows that form in dishwater suds, clean clothes hanging on the line and the smile of her baby.

As I’ve read her incredible writing and thought more about giving thanks, I’ve noticed more of life’s details to praise God for. The robins who keep determining that it is spring, in spite of our snowy weather. The fact that whenever I turn my key in the ignition, my car’s motor roars to life. The internet connection that helps me do research.

It’s easy to thank God for the days that are sunny and the circumstances that are comfortable, but staying in an attitude of thanksgiving helps broaden our faith when life is hard. I tried this practice the other day while sitting in the dentist’s chair with my mouth wide open and the squeal of the drill setting my remaining teeth on edge.

“Thank you, God, for the technology we have so that this filling can be fixed. Thank you for quality dental care here in the U.S. Thank you for the COBRA insurance that will help pay for this bill.”

Instead of praying for help while in the dentist’s chair, thanking God for the blessings of the moment made it a more worthwhile and even worshipful time. As Voscamp explains, “Eucharisteo (giving thanks) always precedes the miracle.”

Maybe the real miracle is the transformation of our hearts as we give thanks in all things.

A Few Days Respite

Last weekend, I experienced three glorious days of respite. No bills were due and none came in the mail. No major appliances broke, and the car continued to take me where I needed to go. Although my son had a slight cold, we didn’t have to go to the doctor. OTC drugs took care of it – and God’s healing power.

For three glorious days, nothing happened to try to steal my joy. I roamed through a couple of home décor stores, just enjoying the textures and colors of pillows and bedding. At a local coffee place, I used a free coupon for a cup of hot tea. I spent time out on my deck, reading a good book and praising God for spring.

Before the fourth day flipped over on the calendar, I praised God for three days free of worry and care. It gave me a foretaste of what heaven will be like: no bills, no stress, no illness and none of the tendencies we have toward sin. Just pure peace and joy and the raptures of God’s love all around us.

After those three days of respite, life kicked in again. I was spiritually attacked, my desktop computer died, and no more support came in for my job. Discouragement tried to visit me, but God urged me to read Psalm 52 and concentrate on verses 8-9, “I am like an olive tree, flourishing in the house of God; I trust in God’s unfailing love forever and ever. I will praise you forever for what you have done; in your name I will hope, for your name is good. I will praise you in the presence of your saints.”

Blessed Insurance

For the past two weeks, I’ve been searching for health insurance. I’ve looked at numerous websites and spoken to several insurance reps. These are helpful people whom I appreciate, because they help me muddle through the paperwork. So far, I have not found affordable insurance that a part-time-raising-funds-and-hoping-to-be-full-time job can support. It’s one of those conundrums of life: insurance – can’t live with it or without it.

So I come back to the only One who gives me any type of real and lasting insurance – Jesus Christ. He reminds me of the words penned by his servant David, “Do not fret; it leads only to evil” (Psalm 37:8b).

What is the evil that can result from fretting about insurance? Worry that keeps me from sleeping at night and getting the rest that my body needs. Worry that I might have a terrible accident and have no insurance to cover it. Worry that I might end up bankrupt and foreclosed on, because the medical bills took everything. Worry that I might lose everything anyway, because the cost of the insurance is prohibitive. Fret = worry = the evil of a life not in trust.

All I can do is try to work with the reps and find the best plan for me, then trust God with the rest of life. He is faithful to keep me healthy, to protect me from accident and to provide the funds necessary to be a good steward. He is faithful when life doesn’t work out the way it should. He is faithful when we don’t know which path to choose. He is faithful enough that we can trust him.

So we’re back to the issue of trust again – and staying in the hope that trust brings.

Signs of Spring

A week after the paralyzing blizzard of 2011, I looked outside my front window. Cloudy skies reflected brief rays of sunshine. Piles of icy snow blocked areas of my cul-de-sac like giant icebergs. Ice melt formed tiny puddles of frigid water.

But in my redbud tree, scores of robins perched on the winter-brown limbs. I had never seen so many robins in one place, let alone in my own front yard. Though the calendar read the middle of February, this cadre of robins announced the coming of spring.

“Thank you, God. I so needed the encouragement of those robins. Thank you for sending them to my redbud tree.”

After this year of unemployment and weeks of godly discipline, my soul needed to be reminded that spring was peeking out from the next calendar page. The robins were a sign that the long siege had ended, and God was sending a refreshing change. During 2010, God had poked at me from his word and prodded me to seek him rather than the security of a job. He asked me to love him again with all my heart, soul, mind and strength – to enjoy his presence more than the presence of a paycheck. He wanted me to covet the divine whisper rather than the things of this world.

With my soul in raw tatters, I repented of worldly attitudes and felt once again the warmth of spiritual healing. Each day brought more strength and a renewed sense of gratitude for all God had taught me.

Now – the robins promised spring – just as God provided a fresh healing in my soul.