Gratitude: order

Sometimes I call myself "the queen of over spiritualizing". I can take a circumstance, a picture, a dream, or something ordinary and connect the spiritual dots till you have a deeper meaning. Maybe it's just my imagination. But maybe sometimes it's discernment that the Holy Spirit gave me. He did it with Daniel, right? I know I'm not as awesome as Daniel, but I can dream, right? (See what I did there...? Ha!) Yes I can.

Let's get to the overspiritualizing, and to what I hope will be a weekly occurance here, gratitude. It's a way to worship!

Here it is, symbolized in the picture:

I'm thankful for order. I'm talking about the kind that God controls, not me. When I feel like life's getting out of control like dirty dishes piling up in a dirty sink, there's still signs of order in the midst of it, hints that God uses to remind me He's in control. A cranky, sick toddler and a baby who lives to be cuddled don't mix well. But God gives us wisdom when we ask for it; quarantining a toddler means he gets to have toys and books in his room, and his workbench and tools to play with in the hallway. A clever and fun solution is reached, order received. Thank you, Jesus!

So that's how you overspiritualize a stack of dishes in your sink. Bam!

Psalm 46:5

God is in the midst of her, she shall not be moved; God shall help her, just at the break of dawn.

Sing

(Since there ain't no one who does it like Julie Andrews...)

Singing. It seems so obvious, but outside the Sunday morning church building atmosphere, maybe singing doesn't come to mind much. 

In the last month or so, singing has been a game changer for me. It started when I came upon these verses: 

"But I will sing of your strength;

I will sing aloud of your steadfast love in the morning.

For you have been to me a fortress

and a refuge in the day of my distress.

 O my Strength, I will sing praises to you,

for you, O God, are my fortress,

 the God who shows me steadfast love."

Psalm 59:16-17

Putting on worship music (I'll share some of my favorites soon) and singing along helps the atmosphere of our home feel more pleasant, and it helps me keep my attitude in check. Singing silly songs to get smiles out of Hosanna or to make Ransom laugh feeds the delight I have in my children. Singing worship songs to them conveys truth, truth that may stick better than if just spoken without a catchy melody.

At the ladies retreat this weekend, there was a woman who told the story about how her 38 year old husband unexpectedly died, leaving her in a new-to-them town, with a new house, alone to raise their two kids when previously he had been the only one working. There was a day when she was curled up on the floor in her closet, feeling the pain of loss, and she sang. She worshiped Jesus even in that lowest point if grief. To the women at the retreat she said satan doesn't know what to do with a Chistian who has has suffered deep loss and pain and still praises God. She brought up Paul and Silas in Acts 16, men who'd been flogged and thrown in prison and still sang, worshiping their Savior. Then, to quote Sara Groves's lyrics about the story, "The dungeon shook and the chains fell off," and the prison guard put his faith in Jesus and he and his family were saved. 

All of this is to say, good things come of worshiping Jesus through singing. So go & sing a catchy song to Jesus and let it get stuck in your head. Sing it in the car, to your kids, at the grocery store, while you're doing the mundane tasks of life, and especially when you don't feel like it. 

Back to worship in real, real life.

While I was away with the baby at a ladies retreat, my husband was home with our little boy who was sick and had a fever. 

(AJ sent me this picture while I was away. I love how Ransom's still smiling even though he feels miserable!)

Coming home, after marinating in the sweet truths that it felt like God was dropping as gifts into my lap, it could be easy to slump into discouragement with a sick little boy to take care of, while trying to protect the baby girl from his bug. (Is it even possible to do that?! Perhaps quarantining him?) 

Glamorous worshiping is done for now. The new reality of worshiping Jesus looks like honoring my tired husband by sending him to bed early. Right now my worship offering is going to involve a lot of praying for health and cuddles and wiping noses and washing hands and reminding Ransom to cough into his elbow and giving him lots of fluids to drink.

This is okay with me. I recall my Jesus washing feet. 

"If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done to you."

--John 13:14-17

Here we go!

Eyes fixed upon

Hosanna and I are at a ladies retreat this weekend.

Aunt Kris (who is the national director of Open Bible Churches women's network) shared something during the session tonight that I love. She said her favorite moment at a wedding is after the bride starts walking down the aisle with her dad, everyone standing and looking at her as she smiles and takes it in. At about the halfway point to the altar, though, her eyes lock onto her groom, and that's it. Nothing else can distract her; her eyes are fixed on him. Aunt Kris said there was a moment during worship last night that felt like a similar scenario, that as we sang & worshiped Jesus corporately, distractions faded and we were fixated on him. 

I love that analogy of worshiping Jesus. Trying to keep that focus and to tuck it away for later.

"Looking to him, the author and perfectly of our faith..." (Hebrews 12:2a)

Spontaneous worship

A perk of being married to a worship leader is that spontaneous worship just sort if happens occasionally. I was sitting on the couch, nursing baby girl after having just returned from breakfast out with AJ's aunt Kris (although I claim her too, she's lovey!) and his dad, Jon. Ransom brings a Bible storybook to Aunt Kris to have her read to him. The guitar is pulled out. Soon father and son are playing the worship songs that are on their minds. Hosanna finished nursing and watched and listened, bouncing to the music.

Three generations worshiping right there in the living room. This moves my heart to gratitude.

It's simple. It's informal. Didn't last long. It's how worship happens sometimes, and I love it. 

Gratitude: a harvest I didn't sow.

We rent a house and there's a walnut tree in the back yard. There are walnuts in our pesto from this gigantic tree planted by some unknown person years ago. We get to enjoy the benefits of a harvest we didn't plant. The work of harvesting is a blessing. Today I'm practicing worshiping Jesus by saying thank you for the walnuts! 

Mama's a worship leader, too.

Yesterday I wrote about how my dad has led me in worship by his example. For the second day of Worship in Real Life, I want to share about the treasure that is my mom.

This picture was taken from my mom's week long visit after Hosanna was born. She came from South Dakota after Ransom's birth, too. On her visits she sends Andrew and me on dates. She does the dishes. She holds babies so I can take showers. She keeps me company and we have talks and lots of tea. On her last visit she took scraps of fabric and fashioned a bag to hold our birthday banner because I'd been using a ziplock gallon bag. She picks flowers and puts them in the window. She'll play the piano. My mom is a celebrator of life. When a grandchild is born, she'll be there with her suitcase, a handmade blanket (or two), finding petty solutions, ready to minister, ready to hold, watch, serve.

To this daughter whose love language is acts of service, I witness such love from my mom's example, and I see it as her love for Jesus being poured out, perfume for his feet. 

Like with my dad, I have memories of worshiping with my mom in church, but it is the everyday intentional acts of service and senseless acts of beauty she presents that show me a different side of giving glory to Jesus in real life.