We finally got some much needed rain last night. Michael and I went to bed semi-early and laid there in the dark together, listening to the soft pelting outside on our bedroom window air conditioner. Time to take the A/C units out of the windows and get ready for winter, I thought.

I’ve loved the sound of rain ever since I was a little girl. Rain was a happy, uncommon occurrence where I grew up, and my mother especially loved it. I think her love of rain transferred to me, because to this day I feel a glad contentment in my soul when gray clouds begin to fill the sky.

I’ve been thinking lately about being grateful, and the spiritual discipline of regularly giving thanks to God. I’ve come to believe it is indeed a discipline at times, to give thanks. Giving thanks doesn’t always come naturally or effortlessly of course, but the more I think about it the clearer this gets: being thankful is essential to my mental health, to my being effective at what I’m called to do, and in pleasing God.

There probably aren’t very many people out there who haven’t either read or heard of Ann Voskamp’s book One Thousand Gifts. If you haven’t read it, may I encourage you to make it your next read? When I read that book months ago, I was so impacted by much of what she shared, but one thing has stuck firmly in my mind, and I’m going to share a quote from the book here:

“From all of our beginnings, we keep reliving the Garden story.

“Satan, he wanted more. More power, more glory. Ultimately, in his essence, Satan is an ingrate. And he sinks his venom into the heart of Eden. Satan’s sin becomes the first sin of all humanity: the sin of ingratitude. Adam and Eve are, simply, painfully, ungrateful for what God gave.

“Isn’t that the catalyst of all my sins?

“Our fall was, has always been, and always will be, that we aren’t satisfied in God and what He gives. We hunger for something more, something other.”    

(page 15 – One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp.)

Pause and solemnly think on that.

A couple of years ago I was sitting on our bed at the end of December, asking the Lord to help me in the coming year. I knew our lives were getting smaller as Michael’s Parkinson’s slowly began to steal more of his abilities. I had stepped down and away from a few things that were very nourishing and meaningful to me, so that I could focus more on what I saw were my increasing demands at home. That morning I sat with my Bible and journal, praying, reading, listening, and expecting to hear from the Lord. It isn’t very often that I sense an absolute, clear and loud directive as I did that morning. I already knew that He desires that I love Him with all my heart, soul, strength and mind…and that this is humanly impossible for me to do. I already knew that He desires for me to love others in a truly sacrificial way…and that this is also impossible. I don’t often fret over the impossible things God asks, though, because He’s been asking people to do impossible things ever since the beginning of time. He asks us to do things that are beyond our strength and nature with His strength, so that He can show Himself strong and near and awesome to us. He shows up in His mightiness to help us when we’re down to our last dregs and call feebly out to Him, knowing that only through Him can we do what we are called to do.

Here is the clarion call He spoke to my heart that morning as I sat and asked what I should do for the coming year:

“No complaining.”

Uh…what Lord? Er…was that really you? Is that all you have to say about the coming year and all the changes we’re going through and how hard this is for all of us?

You might think He could have worded it a little differently — perhaps like this, “Be more grateful. Practice giving me thanks and praise every day.” Or, “Seek me first, trust and obey,” or a myriad of other things we find in His Word that we’re to do. Or you might think He would have said, “I love you, my child, and will help you every step of the way this coming year — follow me as I order your steps and I will be your sufficiency.” And in His Word He does say those things. Those are already commands that Christians are to prioritize in our lives.

But…. “No complaining” ?? That’s it Lord?

I wrote it down. The tears fell. And I knew why He had spoken it so clearly to my heart.

I am a complainer by default. I may not often complain with my words (although certainly I voice discontentment sometimes), but I often complain with my sighs. I complain in my thoughts. With my silence. With my brusque, need-to-get-everything-done manner. I complain by trying to comfort myself in idiotic ways rather than going to The Comforter.

I knew the Lord was asking me to look at my life through a different lens. He wanted me to take off the heavy gray lenses I favor, and put on the lighter, clearer lenses that give me a view of the beyond, of the eternal. He wanted me to see what matters.

Lucifer being cast out of heaven

I don’t really think the Lord wants us to say thank you all the time because He needs to hear it (although surely He must delight in our gratitude, just as parents delight in their children’s heartfelt thank yous), but because He knows what gratitude will do for us. According to Ann Voskamp, studies have been done proving that people who regularly count their blessings are just plain happier most of the time.

Here’s what the Bible says happens to believing people when they refuse to give thanks:

“For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened.”    Romans 1:21

For those who are believers in Jesus, if we refuse to glorify God or give Him thanks for all that He has given to us, our thinking will become futile and our foolish hearts will grow darker and darker. I did not make that up. That’s what the Bible says, to you, to me. If there’s anything I don’t need right now, it’s for my thinking to become futile and my heart to grow darker. No!

So even though we all know this already, let’s give thanks to the Lord today. Not just once or twice, but all day long.

Satan was the original ingrate. I don’t want to align myself with him. He hates me. He hates you. And he hates your children and your marriage and your grandchildren. He isn’t just bad-tempered and mischievous. He is malevolent and evil to the core, and hates us with a fervency we cannot (and don’t want to) possibly understand. Let’s stay away from Satan’s camp and pound our tent pegs firmly into the spacious land of Jesus Christ. I want to live where I’m loved.

Before I end this post, may I ask you….how are you liking your husband these days? Is he annoying you? Disappointing you? Even causing you great pain? I may not know all the ins and outs of my readers’ lives, but I know this verse (Genesis 18:14) very well: “Is anything too hard for the LORD?”

The answer to that question is no.

How about those energetic children He formed just for you? Are they seeming like heavenly gifts lately? No? God is able to help there too — He knows all about challenging children.

Loneliness? Health issues? Financial troubles? God is an expert in all of these areas.

My husband Michael had a seizure a couple of weeks ago — the first he’s ever had. He was taken to the hospital by ambulance and during his stay we learned the possible reasons for the seizure, none of which we have any control over. Should we thank God for that? I know there are those who say we should thank God for all things and others who say we’re only asked to thank Him in all things. I don’t know which scenario is correct, but I think I’ll just begin by pouring out my gratitude to Him today for even the things I don’t understand. Is my husband happy his health is declining? No, but he’s still praising and thanking God, and it’s one of my greatest privileges to live with a man like that. Do I have a few things in my life that don’t elicit automatic thanksgiving? Uh, yes. I’m going to thank God anyway.

No complaining.

God has been lavish with me. I want to learn to be lavish in my expressions of gratitude toward Him. I have a long way to go, because I’m a complainer deep down. But today I will not be an ingrate. I thank Him for air to breathe, a warm furnace, falling leaves, crisp apples, teeth that work, feet that walk, hands that touch, books, faithful friends, sacred music, clean sheets, laughter, moonlight, the company of a fine husband, the love and care of three daughters, the hugs and delight of seven grandchildren, and the mercy, hope, and grace that come from being a Christian.

Will you pound your tent pegs down into the Land of Gratitude with me?

Will you share one thing you can thank God for today?

Should you be weary doing the right thing, just hang in there. God is not sleeping, He is watching you all the way. If you are about to give up and you have had enough, think of God… and just hang in there.

Unknown

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This picture was taken by my son-in-law, of my four oldest grandchildren.

They help me to hang in there.

I want you to hang in there too.

Instead of using random.org as I have in the past, to determine this month’s bloggy giveaway winner, I used an old fashioned method.

My sister-in-law Christy is here visiting us from Tennessee this week, and I enlisted her help in choosing the winner, and you can see her doing just that below. I was so happy to see so many people enter — thank you all so much! I wish I had books for all of you, but I’ll do another giveaway next month.

Here’s the method we used to choose the winner today:

Tauni! You won a copy of The Hawk and the Dove and also the first sequel The Hardest Thing to Do, by Penelope Wilcock. Please email me your address!

The marvelous author of these books has graciously agreed to send me personalized and autographed stickers to put inside both copies. As soon as I receive them, I’ll mail the books to you, Tauni.

Thank you all for reading and commenting…..I had such a good time getting to know all of you a little bit from your great comments about what fall means to you.

Have a blessed weekend,

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a giveaway on the blog, and I think it’s time for another one. Mainly it’s time for another giveaway because it’s autumn, my favorite time of year. The leaves are gorgeous and close to their color peak, and that makes me happy. Here’s a photo of some leaves in our area. 

Now tell me, if you were having a horrible day and you could go outside and see this, wouldn’t it lift your spirits just a little? Whenever I see a sight like this I almost always gasp, because the brilliance and beauty take my breath away.

If you had a blister on your heel because of some stiff new shoes, you could look outside your living room window and say, “Well, I have a blister on my heel, but look at those magnificent fall colors!”

If you were having trouble sleeping at night, there in the dark you could tell yourself that in just a few hours the sun will come up and you’ll be able to see those neon trees again.

If you realized you were out of your favorite coffee creamer and you didn’t have time to run to the store to pick some up, you could comfort yourself by going outside and breathing in the cool fall air and staring at the colors, until the coffee creamer didn’t matter anymore.

If you have marital struggles, financial lack, or health issues, you could sit quietly and take in the beauty of the fall colors. What good would that do? I don’t know how to explain it, but contemplating the beauty of creation while mentally placing yourself humbly before the One who did all this, helps. How it helps is up to Him. But sometimes a scene like the one above helps me to sit still, quiet myself and say, “Lord Jesus, I need you. I don’t know how to do any of this life stuff very well. Here I am, Lord. Help me please. I love you. Help me to love you even more. And thank you for all this beauty.”

If you don’t have any fall colors to look at where you live, try looking at some online. There are leaves blazing somewhere in the world right now and even a photograph can evoke some awe.

So in a nutshell, the fall colors remind me of God, of how much He must love color and variety, how trustworthy He is, how powerful, how faithful and how near. And I also believe that He’s teaching us there’s beauty in death, because that’s what autumn is, right? The death of leaves? And the coming of dark, cold winter.

Those of you who’ve read this blog for any time at all could be rolling your eyes right now and groaning, “Oh, there she goes again, always being reminded of God, always saying the same old things about trying to find meaning in every little thing. Yawn…..”

If you thought that, you would be pretty close to correct. But there are a few things that don’t make me think of God. I don’t look at the plastic sleeve that holds a tower of saltine crackers and think of God. I can’t remember ever thinking about Jesus when the carbon monoxide detector sounds its piercing, deafening alarm at 3:45 a.m. to tell me the battery is wearing out. And when the Midwest weather is really hot and unbearably humid so that it makes the carpet smell like an old dead goat, I don’t recall finding a lot of spiritual meaning in that.

But the trees of autumn…..that’s a different story.

Back to the giveaway.

I’m giving away two books this month, both by the same author, Penelope Wilcock. I love to give away this book, because in my opinion it’s one of the best works of Christian fiction out there. If you haven’t read it, now is the time.

I read The Hawk and the Dove many years ago and within the first two pages was instantly entranced. Then I read it again. And again. And now I think I might make it my winter read come January.

If you’re like me and several people I know, you don’t love Christian books that are tidy and predictable. I’ve read a lot of Christian fiction that seems to follow this formula: Messed up people have big problems….then the messed up people hear about Jesus and His gift of salvation….then the messed up people say the sinner’s prayer….then their messed up lives get all cleaned up. The end.

I hate those kinds of books. Because that’s not real life. At least not the real life I live. I would never belittle God’s gift of forgiveness and His lavish love to us through His Son. But I think we do people a disservice if we imply in any way that becoming a Christian is the end of all their struggles.

So in The Hawk and the Dove you will see how some people lived their real, painful, boring, demanding, unfair, bumbling, blessed, humble and amazing lives, in the reality of God’s love and presence in the midst of them. I would never be a good book reviewer so I won’t try to start now — if you’d like to see what others have said about this work by Penelope Wilcock, click here.

Next, I’m giving away the sequel to The Hawk and the Dove. It’s called The Hardest Thing to Do, and it’s actually the first of three sequels to the first book. Once again, click here to see what people more articulate than myself have to say about it.

In my opinion these are books to own, not books to just be borrowed. I have lost count of how many copies I’ve purchased to give as gifts over the years. If you need a wonderful gift for a person in your life who’s a reader, start with The Hawk and the Dove and keep on going. Book Two of the three sequels is called The Hour Before Dawn and will be released in January, 2012.

All you have to do to enter to win these two fabulous books is leave a comment at the bottom of this post, and answer this question: What is your favorite thing about autumn? 🙂  If you have never commented on this blog before, give it a try…I don’t bite!

Comments will be taken until 10:00 a.m. Saturday, October 8th, and the winner will be chosen randomly and announced later that afternoon.

I have a feeling that the winner might be able to have autographed copies of the books too. If I ask her, Penelope Wilcock might be willing to send personalized stickers, addressed to the winner and signed in her lovely hand, to put inside each book.

So come on. Don’t sit around trying to find spiritual meaning in the plastic sleeve from your saltine crackers. Don’t do it! Don’t let your smelly goat carpets get the best of you. I am living proof that this can be done. No one ever died from having carpets that smell like a dead goat.

It’s autumn. It’s time to look at the leaves. It’s time to hunker down with a cup of tea and a fire in the hearth, and devour a good book or two.

If you don’t have a hearth or any tea to sip, I can’t help you there. But I can help you get your hands on two books you will never forget….

1.   My husband Michael evilly whispered the word “Rabbit!” in my ear this morning, while it was still dark, and when I was barely awake.

2.   We had tacos for dinner last night — there’s nothing like home-fried corn tortillas and fresh homemade guacamole to make a lowly taco taste fantastic. I grew up watching my mother fry our corn tortillas, and have never done them any other way. Do you fry your own corn tortillas? If not, look at this video I found and try it!

3.   I have twenty Words With Friends games going on my iPad and l-o-v-e it. Three games are with Sharon.

4.   Michael and I are now devotees of a few British mystery series. We finished “Ballykissangel” and “Rosemary and Thyme.” We’re currently going through and love “Foyle’s War” (thank you Helen!) and “Doc Martin” (thank you Su!).

5.   I would have a professional massage every day if I could. What would you indulge in if you had the time and funds?

6.   We are going on a big boat out in Lake Superior today.

7.   The fall colors are gorgeous right now — I never get tired of oohing and aahing over the glowing crimsons, oranges and golds that contrast against the dark evergreens.

8.   My oldest grandson and I are memorizing Bible verses together. The one we have down pat now is Proverbs: 12:18: The words of the reckless pierce like swords but the tongue of the wise brings healing. Did you know if there’s someone in your life who’s a little difficult for you, you can help heal them (or wound them further) with your words? Oh, how I want my words to be more healing.

9.   We had a conversation with friends recently and actually toyed with the idea of moving to the Highlands of Scotland for one year. Sort of a Scottish test drive. The more we talked about it, the more they thought they might, and the more we thought we couldn’t.

10.  Throwing things away, paring down, simplifying, makes life calmer and more manageable. If you like that idea and don’t know where to start, you might read this wonderful book.

11. We used to have cockatiels. Their names were Rosie Shackadorum, Chester (the Molester) Pondaleeky, and Walter Whomperwhacker. I would get another cockatiel if they didn’t have such a lot of dander. The older I get the less time I want to spend cleaning up bird powder.

12.  The most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept on in my life was two weeks ago, here. If you’re wondering what the mattress brand was, I took the sheets and mattress pad off to have a look — it was a Jamison.    

13.  If our house sells I’d like to paint our next kitchen something other than dark red. If you haven’t seen our kitchen wall color, click here. But I have tons of blue and white accents that look good with red. I’m wondering if having turquoise walls is too trendy. Here’s a photo of the color I’m talking about, with blue and white plates on the wall, in a bedroom.

14.  I bought some new Three Irish Girls yarn and plan on making a scarf for my husband. In this log cabin. Right on the shore of Lake Superior. Surrounded by beautiful fall foliage. With a fire crackling in the hearth. And snacks within reach.

15.  If you haven’t gotten your free album from Josh Garrels you are missing out. I can’t stop listening to the song “Farther Along.”

16.  Now that I’m 54, I’ve got it in my head that I just should not have to cook anymore. Does anyone have any advice on how to get that out of my head?

17.  Here are some ways that help start the day well:

*I find that if I count my blessings the day goes better in general. I say Thank you Jesus! a lot. And I mean it.

*If I hold my tongue and don’t have to be right, peace reigns.

*If I kiss my husband at least 5 times in one day it makes him happy.

*If I do five things in the morning right away, (i.e. throw a load of laundry in, unpack the dishwasher, make the bed, sweep the floor, clean the kitchen) somehow the day doesn’t seem so overwhelming.

Now, what are your seventeen things? Or your eleven things? Or your five things? I would like to know! (Please try not to list an even number of things — make sure it’s an odd number, okay? I prefer odd numbers.)

Thank you for reading!

I feel so sad. Hope the research bear is dead, killed by a hunter last week.

I have been eagerly following the daily updates, photos and live videos of some world-famous American black bears for almost two years now. In Ely, MN, a little north of where we live, a man named Lynn Rogers has been studying black bears for years. There have been many television programs on the man who walks with bears, and in December of 2009 I became interested myself.

The bear research people were able to install a live den camera in front of the den where Lily, a black research bear, had decided to hibernate. The world watched as she gave birth to her female cub, later named Hope. Things were being learned about black bears that had never been known before. Myths were being put to rest, and admiration and awe were being voiced as people from all over the globe watched this mother bear with her little cub.

Every morning in late 2009 and early 2010 I would get up in the dark and tune in to the live den-cam, and watch as Lily rested and readied herself for childbirth. Or is it cub-birth? When Hope was born I sobbed as I heard her little cubby cries and the maternal grunts of her mother as she checked her baby over and began to nurse. I laughed again and again when I heard the nursing sound that bears make — something akin to a tiny, revving motor. While the wintry Minnesota winds blew outside, Lily and Hope were safe in their den, and as each day passed, the world tuned in and could see Hope grow. Even elementary school children from all over the country watched from their classrooms.

When Lily and Hope began to play together inside the den, I exulted. I can’t explain it, but while living in a world where there’s always war, always a gazillion people mistreating other people, where there’s always too little to eat for some and too much to choose from for the greedy, watching this little enclave of peace and contentment made my heart thrill day after day. Somewhere in the world, something was happening that must surely have brought a smile to God’s face….right there in that bear den outside of Ely, MN. Here were two creatures doing exactly what God created them to do, and I don’t care what anyone says, I knew that God was pleased. Which is more than I can say for many of God’s creatures, including myself.

Lily and little Hope

When spring whispered in to the area and snow began to melt, Lily and Hope came out of their den and I watched. And smiled. And called my family to the computer many times and wanted them to be as delighted as I was. Lily is a radio collared bear, and the bear researchers can track her whereabouts and learn more about black bears. There’s so much more to these animals than I ever thought before. They’re fascinating, funny, endearing, and usually not harmful. The people who have radio collared the few research bears in northeastern Minnesota can approach the bears and talk to them, and the bears learn to trust and often sit quietly with the humans, sharing their space peacefully. I never knew that such huge animals survive mostly on insect grubs, wild berries and hazelnuts. I never knew that ants are such a huge part of a bear’s diet. And I never knew what faithful, patient, incredible mothers black bears are.

Lily and older Hope napping

As Hope grew, so did her antics. She and her mama Lily would stroll the forest together, nap side by side together, groom each other, and play together. They would gently bat at each other’s noses, wrestle and tumble together, and actually cuddle and show affection that was clearly evident. I know there are zoologists out there who will say we don’t know and can’t know what animals feel, and that humans always ascribe too many emotions to animals that can’t possibly exist, but after watching these bears for almost two years I’m not buying it. I saw Lily love her Hope. It might not be the kind of love humans are capable of, I don’t know. But it was love and devotion and self-sacrifice right in front of the world’s eyes, and it made me cry and rejoice each time I watched. When big Lily nuzzled little Hope and grunted her maternal bear sounds, my heart broke with joy.

Well, well, well. Then new bear history was made. Lily got pregnant again and the bear people wondered what would happen then? It’s not like black bears haven’t gotten pregnant before while still caring for a cub, it’s just that there’s never been a den-cam to showcase to the world how the mother, older cub, and newborn cub/s might possibly get along. Late last year another den-cam was set up in the new den Lily chose for the denning season. Was she actually going to den with her much larger cub Hope, give birth in that den and care for them all, staying together into the next summer?

I watched for a little while every single day. They knew Lily was pregnant, and she continued to be a wonderful mother to Hope, and even though Hope was pretty large by then, they denned together. How beautiful those daily videos were! Two large beings sharing a tight space, and being utterly content and peaceful while doing so. In January labor began and Lily gave birth to two cubs, a male and a female. They were later named Jason and Faith, and the viewing audience grew, and newspapers around the world printed stories about the Ely bears.

Mama Lily, yearling Hope and newest cubs Jason and Faith in their den

Lily was a devoted mother to all three of her cubs, and she allowed them to nurse at the same time. That always brought a chuckle when I saw how patiently she allowed huge Hope to burrow in to her belly at the same time the tiny little Jason and Faith did. The researchers commented about how fabulous it was to see big sister Hope accepting her little siblings and learning to be gentle and maternal with them as well.

Unfortunately, little cub Jason died early in his life. An autopsy revealed a couple of things that prevented him from growing up to adulthood — I learned that these things happen more than you might suspect. So a trio of females went on — big mama Lily, yearling Hope, and quickly growing little cub Faith.

Lily, Hope and Faith

I kept visiting the bear study website to see what was up with the three bears. I can’t even begin to explain the happiness I felt watching these beautiful creatures. I showed them to my grandchildren. I told friends about them. Everyone was kind and patient with me.  The world could check in and see Lily and Hope playing together as they walked through the north woods. If you’d like to see a short video taken just a couple of weeks ago of Lily nursing her yearling Hope and smaller cub Faith at the same time, click here. See how patient she is! See how they play together after they’ve had their meal…such a happy wonder.

So in mid-September when the daily updates reported that Hope was missing, my heart sank. It’s bear season in northern Minnesota right now, and I couldn’t stand the thought of someone killing Hope. Black bears are plentiful in this state, and some people actually eat bear meat, so being able to find and shoot a bear in our area would not be difficult.

When bear hunting season opens, Lynn Rogers and his bear researchers affix brightly colored ribbons to the radio collars to identify the research bears. They post signs in the woods and ask hunters to please refrain from shooting research bears, those with beribboned radio collars. Many hunters do comply and take uncollared bears instead.

But this year that was not the case. As the days went on and only mama Lily and the newest cub Faith could be found together, it seemed like the unthinkable had happened. Early this week it was confirmed that on Friday, September 16, 2011, a hunter shot and killed Hope. He had put out a bait station (which is legal in Minnesota) and had seen a lone yearling come to eat. He says he did not know it was Hope, because she didn’t have a radio collar around her neck. The bear folks had tried to put a collar on Hope many times, but she didn’t like it and kept working it off. This hunter hunts for yearlings because of the quality of their meat, and now Hope will provide several meals for him and whoever sits at his table.

I’m not trying to vilify this hunter. He was doing what people have done through the millennia — hunting for his own food. My husband Michael has hunted for white tail deer each November for forty-eight years. I have never been thrilled with his hunting but it’s the culture in this state, and I’ve just accepted it as such. I have tried on occasion to eat venison and have never really taken to the wild flavor.

But I do eat cows. And I eat chickens too. And fish. And the occasional pig. And here is part of my crisis, if it is a crisis. I don’t want to eat animals anymore. But I like the taste of animals. I have been an omnivore for so long I wouldn’t know where to begin to become a vegetarian. I have read books on how to slowly become a vegetarian, and can’t seem to do it. We have people in our house that I don’t think could live without eating some meat. I can’t make them feel what I’m feeling. I know how to eat less meat and cook with less meat. So I have had seasons where I’ve done that. But I have this quandary — I’m seeing animals in a new light and I don’t know how to do anything about it. I don’t think it’s wrong to eat meat. I know it’s not always the healthiest choice, but I don’t think it’s wrong.

Here’s another facet of the turmoil I’m feeling. Why, oh why, am I so torn up about the death of Hope the black bear, when human beings are killed every day and my emotions don’t seem to run as deep and ragged for them? Troy Davis, very possibly an innocent man, was given a poisonous lethal injection recently and died in a Georgia prison. Did I mourn? Yes, but not like I mourn for Hope, Lily and Faith, the three bears. What’s up with that? Can anyone explain this to me? I see newspaper photographs of innocent people who die all over the world — the victims of war and disease and human contempt. Do I mourn for them? Yes, and I often pray. But does that tear me apart inside like the knowledge of the hunter shooting Hope and cutting her up for his freezer and table? No. And it seems like a crisis of sorts that I don’t mourn as deeply for hurting people as much as I do for these simple bears.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do. About eating meat. About how much I hate the death penalty. About why I’ve felt so deeply about these black bears. About why I’m not as saddened and/or outraged as I should be about the pain and suffering that permeates our world.

It feels like a crisis of sorts. But I don’t know exactly what to do about any of this.

And it’s not as if there aren’t a few other teeny things going on around here too.

So I’m going to pray about everything.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6-7

“I wonder what our kids would say about the relationship we have with our phone? My guess is that many of us need to breakup and move on.”

Benjamin Nockels

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For those of you who have never met my husband Michael, he used to have quite the build. Not that he doesn’t look nice now, but when he was a young man he had the kind of muscles and broad shoulders that most men must lift weights and pray hard for.

I always thought Michael’s broad shoulders represented more than just hard work and good heredity. To me, they were symbolic of the kind of man he had to be to take on the job of being my husband and a daddy to my two little girls.

Thirty years of marriage has shown me just how strong his shoulders have been. You could say that Michael has had a high-maintenance wife. You could say that raising the little daughters of a man who easily walked away from them was a challenge at times. You could say that doing decades of carpentry for 10 hours a day in every kind of weather gave him strength and stamina.

I think the best proof of Michael’s strong shoulders is how humbly and cheerfully he has carried us and loved us for all these years. We have not been the lightest of burdens for a man. No indeed. In fact, if any other man had decided to take on what Michael has, he probably would have eventually given up.

Michael has never given up.

Back in April, Michael had one of those strong and broad shoulders replaced at the Mayo Clinic.

Predictably, his right arm and shoulder have atrophied a bit and he’s had to undergo weeks of physical therapy to build his strength and mobility again. He will have to be careful for the rest of his life. No heavy lifting, no shooting rifles during hunting season, no push-ups.

We recently made our last trip to the Mayo Clinic and the x-rays showed that the new reverse prosthesis that is Michael’s new shoulder joint is “articulating well” and looks just as it should. The orthopedic surgeon who did the replacement was out of town for this appointment, and we met with his young Physician’s Assistant, Lori D. She was tall, beautiful and brilliant, and she showed us the many x-ray views that had been taken that morning, dispassionately tossing around words like circumduction and glenoid process. She answered our questions knowledgeably and was polished and professional; she knew the ins and outs of Michael’s case. We learned that the lingering shoulder soreness Michael has each day probably isn’t related to the sawed off bone and new metal and plastic prosthesis, but to the muscles and tendons that will now take up to a year to fully heal. It was comforting to know that.

As we shook hands and said goodbye to P.A. Lori D. at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN, I wished I had the time and opportunity to tell her more about Michael’s broad shoulders.

She knew more about his glenohumeral joint than I ever will. But I could have told her a few things about what life is like with a man who’s as strong on the inside as he is on the outside. Probably stronger. I could have told her about all that Michael’s broad shoulders have carried, and how countless lives have been blessed beyond measure because of his strength.

I would have told Lori D. that when Michael was a younger man he used to be powerfully built. And I would have said that in spite of his fading physical strength, he’s still fearlessly carrying us around with his amazing inner strength. And only the most indomitable man could do that.

I’m not sure that Lori D. would have seen what I’m talking about.

But I can see it clearly…every single day.

Show me your ways, LORD,
   teach me your paths.
Guide me in your truth and teach me,
   for you are God my Savior,
   and my hope is in you all day long.

Psalm 25:4-5

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Whatever we’re doing today, let’s put our hope in the Lord all day long. If things go wrong, let’s put our hope in the Lord anyway. If we mess up, let’s say we’re sorry and ask the Lord to get us back on His path. If we’re tired and discouraged, let’s put our hope in the Lord. If we’re happy and grateful, let’s put our hope in the Lord. If we have no money, no friends, no health, no peace, let us reach out to Him and put our hope in Him.

Lord, show us your ways. Teach us your paths. Guide us in your truth and teach us. Let us make you our God and Savior.

Lord Jesus, we put our hope in you today…

All day long.

When my children were young we listened to a lot of music in our house and car. Randy Stonehill, Petra, Amy Grant, Farrell and Farrell, and Steven Curtis Chapman, just to name a few. It’s been a long time since I’ve purchased a new Steven Curtis Chapman CD, but after I heard this song for the first time recently, I think I just might get this one.

A new (already dear) friend named Linda told me about this song and how it had touched her, so I looked it up on YouTube and liked it right away. Then I listened again and liked it more. Then I listened again and pretty much loved it.

The music video is amusing and clever, and I like how SCC pokes fun at himself a bit all throughout. But as you listen, try to follow the words too.

I don’t even know where to begin some days in trying “to do everything I do to bring a smile to God’s face.” I’m a pretty big failure at this. But I can truly sense those infrequent times when I do bring a smile to His face, and honestly, there’s nothing else like it. It usually has to do with being patient, encouraging, unoffended, selfless and other near-impossible traits.

I want the little things I do to matter. Don’t you? Don’t you want to know that if you clean the toilet, wipe up the ketchup from the floor, hold your tongue when you could let it rip, when you hug a child, encourage your spouse, brush your teeth, and peel some potatoes over and over again, it’s not all meaningless? That if done with the right attitude (there’s the rub) it really could matter to God? And that it could matter for eternity?

This song by Steven Curtis Chapman makes me laugh. And it makes me hope. And it makes me want to do better. Tell me what you think after you’ve watched it through….

Do Everything

You’re picking up toys on the living room floor
for the 15th time today
Matching up socks and sweeping up lost
Cheerios that got away
You put a baby on your hip and color on your lips
and head out the door
And while I may not know you, I bet I know you
Wonder sometimes does it matter at all?
Well let me remind you it all matters just as long as you

Do everything you do to the glory of the One who made you
‘Cause He made you to do
Every little thing that you do to bring a smile to His face
And tell the story of grace
With every move that you make
And every little thing you do

Ooh ooooh oooooh

Maybe you’re that guy with the suit and tie
Maybe your shirt says your name
You may be hooking up mergers, cooking up burgers
But at the end of the day

Little stuff, big stuff, in between stuff
God sees it all the same
And while I may not know you, I bet I know you
Wonder sometimes does it matter at all?
Well let me remind you it all matters just as long as you

Do everything you do to the glory of the One who made you
‘Cause He made you
To do every little thing that you do to bring a smile to His face
And tell the story of grace with every move that you make
And every thing that you do

Well maybe you’re sitting in math class
Or maybe on a mission in the Congo
Maybe you’re working at the office
Singing along with the radio
Maybe you’re dining at a five-star
Or feeding orphans in Myanmar
Anywhere and everywhere you are
Whatever you do it all matters
So do what you do and don’t ever forget to

Do everything you do to the glory of the One who made you
‘Cause He made you to do
Every little thing that you do to bring a smile to His face
And tell the story of grace as you do
Everything you do to the glory of the One who made you
‘Cause He made you to do
Every little thing that you do to bring a smile to His face
And tell the story of grace with every move that you make
And every little thing you do

Ooh ooooh oooooh
Every little thing you do

by Steven Curtis Chapman

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We still have time to make our lives tell the story of His grace!