My fathers lunch box.

I was wandering through an antique store just recently with my friend Chelsea. I think for us our hearts are stirred by things and memories.  I'm glad she asked me to go.  We are kindred spirits when it comes to seeking treasures.  

My thoughts began to stir and my memories surfaced as I lingered over those long forgotten treasures.  

But it was a particular lunch box that caught my attention.  It immediately brought me back to my childhood.  I remember my dads lunch box was a worn, rusty, silver metal box.  I still see it sitting on the 60's formica counter.  That lunch box carried for me more than just its intentions.   

It represented consistency, loyalty, security, family, love, happiness, commitment.  It represented stability, hard work, perseverance and a man who loved to eat. 

I wondered how a simple metal lunch box could take on so many characteristics.  But it did. 

My dad was graciously committed to his family.   He died 6 years ago this month. 

But his memory continues to linger in my heart in a celebratory way.  So when I spotted this lunch box in the antique store, I had to buy it.  As a sweet memory and reminder of my dad, of his faith and hard work. 

It reminded me of my blessings of a happy childhood, of a committed father and husband to my mom. 

I can only imagine the many lunches this box carried for him, from my mom who made them faithfully each night.  

As I thought about that lunch box it brought me to the story about the little boy who offered his lunch of 5 loaves and 2 fish to Jesus. It was all he had.  But he gave what he had been given.   Jesus took his offerings and blessed them and multiplied it to feed thousands.  

My dad although he lived on a very small pension, he was rich.  And what he didn't need he gave away.   He gave from his heart.   He gave kindness, time and wisdom.  He gave a chuckle and a good belly laugh on a daily basis.  He gave away his faith like it was the most valued gift he owned. 

As I thought about that lunch box, altho I payed a very small amount, to me it was priceless.   It contains a reminder of my childhood. A reminder of what faith, grace and commitment look like.  A reminder of Gods ability to take a simple lunch and feed thousands.   

God is faithful. He may give you a simple lunch but when he blesses it. It may feed more than you know.  

He may give you simple words but maybe He'll feed many with those words or just one.   

He may give you a kind heart and with that truly love beyond your ability.  He may give you finances to share.  Then do that with a heart of gratefulness.  

Maybe He asks you to give grace at a time when it seems hopeless but it may be what satisfies.  

Whatever He may give you, it's ok if you give it away.  He may even multiply it!! 

So thankful for a father who gave what he had and allowed God to multiply it. 

 

Matthew 14:17-21

"We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,” they answered.

“Bring them here to me,” he said.  And he directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over.  The number of those who ate was about five thousand men, besides women and children.

1965. Visiting my dad at his job.  

Finding grace in the messy moments.

I have to admit I really don't like being messy.  Although it at times is a common occurrence.  I struggle making sense of things when everything is in disarray.  I get bogged down.  

But life is messy.  So in a real sense I've become more inclined to find a place of peace and joy in the broken distractions and messy stuff.  

Because it is joy in the messy that  I need and hunger for.  

Christmas can be that for us.  It is often hard to see the beauty of the season when all that's in front of us is broken messy and anything but joyful.  

It's in this place that I remind myself of the perfect gift The baby who came wrapped in mercy and grace. The baby who came to redeem and prepare. The baby who came to bring joy out of our chaos. The baby who came to remind us how to love beyond our abilities.  

The baby who came to restore the broken and messy. 

So my focus can be the broken messy  distractions or it can be on the grace and mercy that is wrapped so beautifully in the season called Christmas.  In the baby who came and looked past time and space to bring redemption and grace. 

I was sitting with a friend the other day and we were talking about the different love languages that we have.  I told her that one of mine is time.  I love having those small moments over a cup of coffee or a meal.  Sharing life and dreams and hope and encouraging words.  That I told her was a gift.  I gave her my time.  It cost me nothing but a cup of coffee. And we both left feeling a little more encouraged. 

I want more of those moments for 2016. I'm not necessarily making any resolutions.  I know I'm not good at keeping then. But if I can continue to see Jesus beyond my broken and often times messiness, than I will look for moments. Moments with people, moments with him. 

Moments just many more moments.  

Mentoring: Am I qualified?

Have you ever thought about mentoring someone?  Have you wondered if you have what it takes?  Did you realize that whether you know it or not, you are mentoring and you are being mentored.  

The good news is there is no wrong or right way.  Best of all, there is no formula.

Often for me, someone spoke into my life over a period of time.    Then on occasion it was just one conversation that was life changing.  

So ive been thinking about how mentoring has changed my heart, I remember as a young wife and mom, I was blessed to have several women around me who wisely and graciously spoke into my life.   

It was not programmed, it was mostly natural and organic.  I'm sure they didn't even know they were mentoring.  I guess when I was growing up, we didn't use the mentoring word like we do today.   

It was unstructured.   It was good.  But at times I longed for more.  

Now that I'm older I see younger women who are much like I was.   Often struggling to live well, love well and do their best to rise to the occasions.   I really understand.  

But I admit I tend to question my ability to walk with others.  Do I have what it takes?  

Can I walk with someone when I've never walked their walk?   When I've never experienced their kind of pain? 

When I can't relate to their struggle or situation? 

The answer I believe is yes.  

Even in the midst of your "not knowing".  Even in the midst of your own pain.  

It's a big yes. 

I love mentoring, loving and speaking into young women today.  Living life, loving in spite of.   I don't have to have answers.  Because quite frankly I dont.  I just try to listen well.  The opportunities come to speak into their hearts, often when I'm at my worst and least expect it.  

I've realized that mentoring is really about loving.  

So I ask myself am I qualified? 

You are qualified:

when you're humble. 

when you stumble. 

when you're a servant.  

when you're  broken, 

when you're listening. 

when you're not enough. 

when your heart is open. 

when you question yourself. 

when you love broken people. 

when you feel you can't relate. 

When you step out in faith.  

When you believe God is working behind the scenes. 

When you believe God is big.  

When you believe God can do extraordinary things.  

When you trust in His abilities not your own.   

It's not about me and what I desire for someone else.  But what does God want for them?

He provides the growth and the wisdom and the direction.  I'm just his gardener.  I may plant or I may water.  But God does the growing.  It's his job.  And its in His timing.  I'm thankful for that.  

There are times I may feel that I fhaven't come close to getting it right.  But it's in that place that God reminds me.   I'm refining you.   

So don't be discouraged.  

He takes your act of love and obedience and He sometimes passes it through the fire.  He says I'm deepening you.  I'm extending your roots, so they can go deeper still.   

All He asks is that our focus to be on Him. 

So today I'm grateful to those lives that I've been able to speak into and to many women who continue to speak into my life.   They have played the roll of mentor to me even when they didn't know.  What a gift we give each other.   

We need both, to be mentored and to 

mentor.  It's a beautiful lifestyle.  

So go love and mentor someone.  They will thank you later.  So will Jesus.  

1 Corinthians 3:7

So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.

A few of my mentors!  We have been meeting for over a decade.  For that im grateful.  They are My hallelujahs! 

Were you brave or did you cry?

I am ignited by stories and journeys and paths.  I love the ones that are different. I appreciate people who are not afraid to live brave.  To live inside out.  But I find I'm often fearful. 

Sometimes when I write, my inner critic comes to the surface.  I start to write, but then I question that thought.  Don't write that.  I fear.  

Writing I've heard is a place to bleed.   So I sometimes bleed my thoughts.  Thankful I have thoughts to bleed. 

Somedays I have way more questions than answers.  The answers don't come like I want them to.  But I love that God is using the broken parts of my life along with the parts that are somewhat put together.  

My 3 year old granddaughter asked me a question the other day.   She said "Ama, were you brave or did you cry?  I think maybe Ellie was learning her own lessons on being brave.  But she was also teaching me.  

It made me look at my steps of faith.  My steps of courage.  When we enter onto Jesus path we find that it's mostly opposite of what we've probably thought.  

When I think I deserve an "I'm sorry" Jesus says "just forgive......seventy times  seven."  Really. That's a lot.  

When I want to hear a "thank you."  He says wake up each day with a grateful heart anyway.  It's ok if you never hear those words. 

I remember as a stay at home mom.   I longed to hear the words "your doing a great job.  You are raising awesome kids!    You can do it."  

I guess a cheerleader would have been great on those days that seemed to never end.  Those days of doubt and fear that I'm messing them up.  

But that didn't always happen.  No cheerleader showed up at my front door.  At least not at the moments I thought I needed one. 

It takes courage every day.  Were you brave or did you cry?   As we talked, Ellie and I, we realized its ok if you cry.  You're still brave!  Maybe being brave and courageous look different than we thought. 

Maybe it's about waiting patiently.  Maybe it's finding grace in the dark.  Maybe it's about seeing the small graces that inhance our lives every day. 

Maybe it's listening to a little child who asks a thousands questions.  Maybe it's being ok when I don't get what I think I deserve.  

And maybe it's about being someone's cheerleader. When they least expect it.  

Psalm 27:14Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous.  Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.

I pray, "Lord, let us walk with courage.  Let us live inside out like you.  Let us wait patiently for you."

Ellie.  My little teacher. 

Lessons from the back of a motorcycle

We took off on a 8 day trip on our Harley into the mountains of Tennessee and North Carolina.  We wore layers for the brisk autumn chill.  

The sun was glorious and the sky was a Caribbean blue.  The days had a beautiful crispness to them like taking a bite out of a tart apple. 

As we traveled along the masterpiece of beauty and color, His creative works did not go unnoticed. 

The autumn colors were Gods beautiful palette.  I felt more than once that we were riding into an artists autumn painting.  

As we passed through the mountain valleys our eyes couldn't help but look up. Our gaze was always drawn to the top. 

The road was edged in stately trees beckoning our adoration.  The majestic mountains were unnumbered with miles of mountain peaks layered in brilliant shades of blue.  

I was learning that I needed to keep looking up.  Each day was an invitation to be amazed.   We even spotted an eagle circling the tops of the trees.  

God would remind me this is what I want you to do everyday.   Looking upwards is a daily lesson.  When I'm looking up and leaning in, I'm strengthened by grace. 

The journey became my place of grace. 

As I found my eyes in an upward gaze my heart kept calling me to worship.  It didn't matter.....worship came easy, a place to say thank you. A place for a grateful heart.  

It seemed I'd been to church.  

We were on a road that had so many bends and turns that my hands gripped tightly as I struggled to relax.  I was learning with each bend in the road that I had to trust.  I had to trust my driver.  I was totally dependent on my husbands motorcycle skills.  Thankfully they were very good.   

With every bend I had to lean when he leaned.  We never knew what we'd find around each curve.  But it was more lessons for me.  

There would be new reminders each day to trust.  It was with each bend in the blacktop that I would remind myself of the many blessings that I had. 

I think I may have even heard the chorus of "how great thou art" through the roar of the motorcycle. 

The things you learn on the back of a motorcycle. 

Lean in.

Look up.

Trust.

Be amazed.

Have a grateful heart.

Yes. I'd been to church. 

First we have coffee.

For some reason. I woke up this morning missing my mom.  I haven't felt that sting in a while. She's been gone 3 years now.  But I think about her pretty much everyday. Usually it's with a heart of celebration.

Today was different.  I felt a sadness. I wanted so desperately to call her.  I just wanted to unload.  I needed a landing place for my struggles and frustrations. 

This morning I felt i had no place to land my pain.

Her and my dad were my strong towers. It was in the many crazy, tough moments I would call them.  They would show up in person. Or at least in prayer.  I always knew I could rely on them and their prayers for me.  

They loved to be a part of our busy lives in even the smallest of ways.  

Mom carried a heart of grace with her. Especially for her 4 kids. She was my quiet tower of strength.  She wiped my tears more than anyone.  She was my landing place.  

Although today I know she's not able to answer her phone.  But I begin to unload anyway. I know God can handle my frustrations. My brokenness. My heart that hurts.  

He becomes my landing place.  My grace place.  I unload and he doesn't judge me. He wraps his grace arms around my heart and soul.   I need the comfort.  

I feel the grace, like it was my mom.  She offered grace more than anyone I knew.  

I stop for a few minutes at a little cafe.  This place reminds me of her.  My Norwegian influence is represented here. I sit with my coffee.   My moms motto. First we have coffee.  So I take a few sips. I feel moms grace arms.  They belong to the one who's grace is sufficient.  

As tears stream down my face I'm trying to listen to the spirit speak.  I glance over into the corner of the cafe.  I see a beautiful couple in their golden years bowing in prayer.  I cannot hear their prayer.  But I feel it.  It's a beautiful reminder of my mom and dad's prayers for me.  My grace place!  

I sense grace arms wrapping me in that moment.  My heart rejoices.  I realize my grace place becomes filled with his presence.  I try and wipe my tears.  But I think it's ok to cry.  Tears are refreshing.  

I'm learning that he never wastes our pain.  He uses it for his glory.  He still uses my moms heart of grace in me.  She reminded me without words how to offer grace to others.  Even when it seems impossible.  His grace is enough. I'm enough. 

First we have coffee.  Drinking in His grace.  

Thanks mom!!  

Grace, for someone else.

Grace takes it's place in our lives.  It's often we become grace to someone else.  I'm always surprised by that.

Surprised by grace. 

I think for most of my life I've doubted His grace. I really doubted that he would use my small offerings.  That he would choose me.  I'm soft and broken. I'm not always faithful.  I don't see beyond my small world.  I only think about my failures.  I fail and I think ive just ruined everything.  I doubt a lot.  

Fear gets a strangle hold on my heart.  I'm often crippled.  

I begin to see Jesus use my failure.  

I can't believe it.  It makes me love Him more.  

The last few months have been a beautiful constant surprise of grace. 

I've had more opportunities than ever before.  But I wonder did I get it right. Than He steps in and says. I've already  got it right for you.  I'm perfect so you don't have to be.  Our failures become his strength. 

I've had many holy moments.  Beautiful holy moments.  I've had the privilege to share my story.  Gods story.  The place where grace grows me.  My grace place.

Learning as I share life with broken women.  They grow me. Their lives intersect with mine.  We all are changed. It's all grace.  He begins to strengthen my home built by grace.  Moment by moment. Grace upon grace. 

My grace story deepens when I jump in the pit with someone.  Why God do you want me to jump in?   Fear grips my heart. But I know it's the right thing to do.  But I question him, "are you sure I'm the one."  I can think of a hundred better choices. 

The pit is ugly and deep. It seems far away from where God is. I wonder if He see us in this place.  I feel insignificant.  I pray a lot. I begin to think that I know less and less.  God strips away all of my devices that I try to use.  Than I feel his arms.  Grace shows up. 

My friend offers me wisdom.  She says what are three things you like about yourself?  Ummm I can't think of a one.  I wonder if I even like myself.  Why would I?  I see my failures and mistakes and my broken stuff.  I only see weakness instead of strength.   I fail to look at my worth.  I wonder if others struggle with that.  

I feel bad I can't answer her question.  She than answers for me.  She has a long list for me.  But I'm blind to that.  Than I realize God used her to remind me.  Grace takes it's place.  

While I'm in the pit with someone. I put my grace arms around them.  He gives me grace arms for the moment.  I begin to feel strong.  I feel their pain. It changes me.   I see grace in a new way.  I know he's in the pit with us.  His significance changes me.  I pray it changes them. 

We live life together.  We share our broken places.  We grow together.  Our hearts mingle. God smiles. I smile. We begin to heal.  We heal together.  Grace changes us. I'm glad he lets me be a part of their lives.   

When i reach out to them, I sense God is doing the work.  Im glad God has called me beyond my abilities.  I remember He doesn't call the equipped but he equips the called.   I experience grace.  Those holy moments change me.  

I'm reminded that when I'm weak I am strong.  He didn't give up on me.  I won't give up either.  

There is not a better place to live.  I'm so glad that I've been able to experience the rhythm of Gods grace.