Better than you dare think

"Give what you have; to someone it may be better than you dare think." -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

It could be as simple as a smile, a heartfelt hug, a touch on the shoulder, a happy disposition, a "Have a nice day", "I hope you get better". Things we do that we think are too ordinary to make a difference. They do make a difference.

By Marcie Dixon
I was going through a very tumultuous time, listening to a lot of heavy metal music, which seemed to express the anger, frustration, sadness and turmoil that I felt inside. One day I went into a diner to be alone in my darkness and despair.
Hopelessness and depression were overwhelming me. I had been asking myself what was the point of my life and my future and had come up with a big fat zero. Dark and negative thoughts and feelings had been swirling around me like a whirlpool of thick, black darkness, threatening to suck me into its vortex. I wondered what would happen if I just let myself fall into it, if I gave in to it, if I just let it take me away. I had been toying with the idea of taking my life.
I wondered if God—if there was one—would care enough to stop me. What would He think—if He existed—if I took my life? I knew one thing: I would be free of the relentless pain and torment that was going on in my heart and mind.
When the waitress came, I ordered a coffee while doodling on the back cover of one of my school notebooks where I had drawn a mosaic of sorts—faces, symbols, objects, expressions; most of them dark, lonely, melancholy, and fearful. They came from within, from the feelings in my heart, as well as the expressions of the music I listened to. In the midst of all of the art confusion I had drawn a small flower, hardly noticeable amid everything else.
The waitress returned with my coffee and set it down in front of me, giving me a warm smile that seemed to reach out and embrace me through the fog of depression that had engulfed my soul. It was like a small ray of warm sunshine on an otherwise overcast day. But I had grown so used to hiding what I felt deep inside that my reflex action was to shift my view down to my notebook. I felt embarrassed and a bit surprised that someone was focused on me. The waitress glanced down at my scribbling and said, “I see you are an artist.”
As I took a sip of coffee, she paused for a brief moment, her eyes skimming across the doodles. Then pointing to the tiny flower, she exclaimed, “Oh, there you are! Such beauty can't be hidden even amidst all this!” She smiled again as I looked up at her. And then she was quickly off to wait on another table. I marveled that she had noticed that tiny flower so quickly. To me it seemed nearly buried in the midst of the mass of confusion of images. I looked at the little flower. Was that really me?
Finishing my coffee, I gathered my things to leave. I was digging into my bag for some money for the bill when the waitress returned, placing a beautiful long-stemmed rose on the table in front of me. I was shocked! But before I could react, the waitress quipped, “Remember, you are that rose to someone.” She then reached down, touched my hand and said, “The coffee is on me,” and disappeared to take care of another table.
As I walked out onto the street, the sky didn’t look so gray and gloomy anymore. It felt crisp and fresh. What just happened in there? I wondered. A total stranger, who knew nothing about me or what I was thinking, had pierced my bubble of darkness with warmth and kindness and hope. Was that God? Was He there after all, and did He care about me? All I knew was that I felt different and the heaviness I had felt in my heart was gone.
Maybe there is a God after all. Maybe He does care and have a purpose for my life. I couldn’t say for sure, but that day I decided to find out if He did have a purpose for me. A tiny seed of hope grew from that experience and became a turning point. Eventually I found Jesus and His love and hope and comfort. That waitress’s encouragement to me started me on my journey which led me to Jesus and His eternal love.

"There are so many all around us who feel about as small and overwhelmed by life as that tiny flower. When the darkness is so great, even a little light can do miracles! A little word can be a lifeline that leads to hope for a lifetime." -Maria Fontaine

This is a post that stayed a draft since 2010. I was looking through drafts today and found this to be a great encouragement. I was just thinking how I want to do some things that require money that I don't have. "That's fine" this story tells me, "You need to wait to have money to do some things, but making a difference is not one of them, you can Give what you have."

The leash: A reflection about a healthier Life

Last Sunday I had a very vivid picture of what it means to have an unhealthy relation to someone else's emotions.
It all started with a nice walk with my dog, Charles. We walked near my house, which is perched at the top of a hill. Some dogs came along and attempted to claim the front of our house as their territory. This wasn't something Charlie would allow. I shooed the dogs away and as they left, Charlie ran after them with all his might. The strength of a well-fed 1-year-old lab took me extremely quickly down the hill trying to stay on my feet. Soon enough the inevitable happened. I fell flat on my face in a mixture of concrete and dirt. I know it was the latter as well because some of it was on my mouth and nose.
I'm happy to say my bruises are no longer dark purple and it's a miracle nothing was broken or sprained. Yet, there was a question that made me think, "Why didn't you let go of him?" my sister asked. "Oh, I did! Once I was on the floor!", I responded at first. But then I felt a little glimpse of realization. Aren't my relationships with people sometimes that way? If my loved one is sad, and if I choose to attach an unhealthy emotional tie between me and him or her, my spirits will come tumbling down, no matter how great of a day I was having. Similarly, it can happen with happiness, and fear, and jealousy and all kinds of emotions.
The problem is that I let others guide my emotions, when I should be in charge. Just like with Charles, I was supposed to be in charge!
It's a weird phenomenon I'm still learning about but I know there are healthy and unhealthy responses that we can have to others' emotions. And it's tricky for me to get rid of some of these habits. Yet, I've taken it to Jesus and asked for his help and I can say He has been working!
For instance, if X is having a terrible day and chooses to look at the negative side of everything, before I would say, "Poor X! He's in a bad mood again." Finding out why was my mission, and then I would try so hard to revert X's mood. This wouldn't work most of the time of course, and if it did, it was short-lived. And the situation with X would continue, which would sadden me and make me unhappy for days until magically X had a happier day cause he finally decided to look at the bright side of life. This is taxing. Not the way I want to live.
Now, when X is having a bad day I'm not happy for it, cause I love X. But I know that X has a choice: to get himself out of the pit. He knows I'm here if he needs me, but if he doesn't want to come that's his decision. I'll still pray for X. Yet I'll be having a merry day because I choose to. I might be saddened that X doesn't want to join me, but my joy cannot be lost because of X. The joy of living is much too precious to tie it to the emotions of a mortal which I have no control over. I know I have to be mature enough to accept that every person makes decisions and I cannot make them for them. They have a choice and I have my own.
And the choice I have to consciously make every moment is to tie my joy to Jesus, and not anything of this world, including people.

Don't raise good kids

Don't raise good kids, by Jon Bloom
This will surprise most people.
I don't have any kids, but I was this good kid. The worst part is when God's grace isn't something one receives freely, but something one doesn't know is there because frankly, why do you need it when you're "pretty good"? Or so it seems. Until reality hits. That was only some years back, a step-by-step process. And that's why lately I've been all about grace: seeing it's there, accepting it, taking it, enjoying it, praising God for it, and by God's grace, giving it as well. And I continue to need to notice it's there, for me.

Actually, a tree ablaze

I want to dedicate this post, authored by Ann Voskamp and posted on her blog this early November day, to my best friends because I know we've all battled and fight daily to let go of the measuring sticks.

“The world isn’t a forest of measuring sticks. The world is a forest of burning bushes. Everything isn’t a marker to make you feel behind or ahead; everything is a flame to make you see GOD is here. That God is working through this person’s life, that God is redeeming that person’s life, that God is igniting this work, that God is present here in this mess, that God is using even this.”
“Walk through life with a measuring stick – and your eyes get so small you never see God.”
(Read more...)

From, How the Hidden Dangers of Comparison are Killing Us 

… {and Our Daughters} : The Measuring Stick Principle

Fill in the blanks

When did I start seeing ________ as commonplace and stop seeing ________ as a holy place?
When did I start seeing breathing as commonplace and stop seeing today as a holy place?
When did I start seeing daily chores as commonplace and stop seeing this minute as a holy place?
When did I start seeing laughter as commonplace and stop seeing this moment as a holy place?
When did I start seeing mom and dad walking in through the door as commonplace and stop seeing today as a holy place?

His house

I'm so excited about a treasure I found right after writing the post below, "Oh, how I long to feel accomplished!" Check it out, it's 2 Corinthians 5:1
"For we know that if the earthly house of our tabernacle be dissolved, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal, in the heavens."
It makes me think of the reality of earthly things vanishing away. All worldly things will lose their value, will be destroyed. And what if the house I devote my life to build is made with such materials, the kind that are dissolved? It's meaningless, like the Wise one from Ecclesiastes cries out.
And I love the verse before that one.
"While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:18 I think that sums it up.
But I can't help but go back to the first verse I quoted. The house, it's a building from God, not made with hands, eternal, in the heavens.
Yes, isn't it all a work of His grace? We'll get to Heaven not cause we deserve it, but because Jesus paid for it. God will reward all we did for Him, yet isn't it He who "works in us to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose?" Philippians 2:13 And yet we get to call His House, Home. What's a greater thrill than that?

"And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever." Pslams 23:6

Oh, how I long to feel accomplished!

Oh, how I long to feel accomplished! The question is where.
There are times when I look at other's lives and I say "Theirs is so full of achievement, going and doing and accomplishing." And I can't help but think that if they're doing so much then what do I have to show for it. "On top of it all, they get excelent grades in school."
What do I have to show for my life? It isn't a hectic schedule. Sometimes I feel it is, but not until I see all the extracurricular activities people in my school do. Why do I feel inferior? I'm happy with what I've chosen. I rather put my heart into my studies so that I make the most of the time I have to learn (which is amazing!). I've chosen to grow in my walk with Jesus more intentionally, and spend time with my family, who I won't be living close to forever. On top of it, I know Jesus is helping me to grow in helping others. And if I'm too busy building a CV at the cost of these things, then what do I want the "accomplished life" for?
The earthly standards to judge a life are as important as dust, cause that's what we are and where we will go. Yet living for Jesus and caring for what God cares about...that lasts forever.
And in Heaven, God won't ask me how well did the world think I did, during any period of my life. He'll see how much love I gave, how much I obeyed Him, how much I lived to bring Him glory and not myself.
I may want to feel very accomplished here on Earth, yet I gotta choose... between being accomplished here or in Heaven.
Frankly, I believe Heaven is a far better option.
"Wise choice," says the still small voice.

Grace today

I love writing about what Jesus is doing in my life. I just feel I ought to, for my own sake and the sake of my memory and treasuring what He's doing. I feel that writing about it is part of honoring what He's doing. Maybe that's why so many people that know Him keep journals. There's something far too special and rare about living your life with the God of the Universe to take the things that come, the epiphanies, the ideas, the mental pictures, lightly. I think there's a new revelation of Jesus waiting for me in every day. His endlessness brings me joy! Just the thought of it, cause I can always go back for more.
Yesterday was a wonderful day and the reason to remember it more poignantly is because Jesus showed me a misconception I've held on to too tightly in my life. And He just exposed it and blasted it away with His word! I love how He does the work so that I can "be transformed by the renewing of my mind." (Romans 12:2) I just gotta let Him!

Concerning the Torrents of Worries about Tomorrow
I absolutely loved the time I've spent here. "I don't wanna leave this place without feeling totally alive and taking every bit of it back with me." The trip will end in a week. I'm already thinking about it.
"It's not a bad thing for you to want that, Steph, but it's not an accurate depiction of reality", God says.
"Oh gosh, am I crazy?", I think.
"You want your batteries charged and you want that to last you next year or at least the next couple of months."
"Well, such happy days ought to multiply my joy elsewhere too!", I feel like I'm clutching something.
"I give you your daily bread every day, day by day." I know I've been trying to save food like an ant for the winter.
"Bread in this case represents grace for life's burdens, trails", He goes on to explain. "Grace to fight, grace to win, grace to lose, grace to give, grace to be."
"And guess what?", He adds. "You have it today, and you don't have to worry about tomorrow, I'll take care of that."
Isn't it so easy to want to have grace for all of our lives all at once? It'd bring such peace, I wrongly reason. Wrongly because what I need each day is relationship with Jesus, and if I had all that bread in the pantry I wouldn't go to Jesus. I'd lie to myself and believe the lie about my sufficiency. After all, I can live from what's in the pantry. I'd totally forget my complete need of Him (the Person) and die inside. Whereas if I let Him, as He wants, hand me the grace for the day each morning, each moment, I'll have sweet communion with Him. I'll hang out and be with the Person of God and that will be enough.
I love the fact that God has already placed the grace to fight, to win, to lose, to give, to be in every day. All the elements to overcome are in each day. So that is why worrying about tomorrow is futile in the greatest of ways. Through worrying I'm hoping to find a better solution to a possible problem, except that solution to the problem I'll actually encounter, will be solved that day with God's grace for the day! I'm not God. Yet I'm His adopted daughter.
So when worries come, cause they do, I'll hold them out to God, the Creator and Giver of daily Grace and tell Him, "This is not for me to worry about, You'll supply the grace, the tools for any difficulties that could come up. I ask you now to take these fears and tie them to the bottom of the sea and help me to live today like your trusting daughter who lives to know you better every day."
I love what God told me, "As you turn to me for wisdom on how to live today, you'll worry less and less about tomorrow." That's the way I want and need to live. When? Today.

What does gratitude mean for me today?

I sat on the bed waiting. I ended up putting my legs against the wall, just for fun, and thanked Him. So much has happened and it has all been directly thanks to God. So much beauty, fun and things I had been hoping and praying to do have happened, are happening or are in the verge of happening. And Jesus is the reason behind it all! The only thing that saddens me is that I don't always realize and live like it.

This rainy day, I read a post by Peter Amsterdam on gratitude. It has made me think how I lack a passionate and deep cry of thanks to Jesus, as well as consistent sincere thank you's for the everyday wonder of living life, for this particular day and stage of my life. Giving thanks to the Maker is part of really living. I know it! I've experienced, yet why don't I do it always?

The truth is I don't deserve it, yet I'm guilty every day of taking it for granted. "Oh yes, I'm just engaged to the most awesome guy in the world." "Ah yes, I get to see amazing things take place in my best friend's lives, and I get to share some of life's greatest joys with them, in person...and be there for their sorrows" "Um, of course I can move everything in my body and enjoy great health, I'm young!" 

See what I mean by taking things for granted? What comforts me is that the more I reflect on my attitude of late and the more I dwell on all that I have to say thank you to God for, I just become more grateful by the minute. Thank God!

Finding myself taking things for granted made me imagine how I'd feel if everything was all gone, ALL... and then I got it back again! That's gratitude! That's a tight, earnest hug for God, who gives it all. 

The District of Columbia police auctioned off about 100 unclaimed bicycles Friday. “One dollar,” said the 11-year-old boy who was bidding on the opening bid for the first bike. The bidding, however, went much higher. “One dollar,” the boy repeated hopefully each time another bike came up.

The auctioneer, who had been auctioning the stolen bikes for 43 years, noticed that the boy’s hopes seemed to soar whenever a racer-type bike was put up.

Then there was just one racer left. The bidding went to eight dollars.

“Sold to that boy over there for nine dollars!” said the auctioneer. He took eight dollars out of his own pocket and he asked the boy for his one dollar. The youngster, he turned over his money in pennies, and nickels, and dimes, and quarters, and he took the bike, and started to leave. But he only went a few feet. And carefully parking his possession, he went back, and gratefully threw his arms around the auctioneer’s neck, and he cried.

We should ask ourselves, “When was the last time I felt gratitude as deeply as this boy?”

Thomas S. Monson, “Think to Thank,” Ensign, Nov. 1998, 18.

I'm sure you have something precious, priceless, meaningful to thank God for today.

What to Do When You May or May Not be a Control Freak

Ann Voskamp invited Mark Buchanan to her farm's porch and I would love to share with you what she shared here:

“Like a city whose walls are broken down, is a man who lacks self-control.”  (Proverbs 25:28)

I was in a coffee shop the other day and a mom announced to her little guy – maybe 2 and a half years old – that it was time to leave.
Little Guy didn’t want to leave.
At first he ignored her, then he defied her, then he assailed her.
To her credit, she remained calm.
She spoke quietly. She stood her ground. She didn’t bargain.
In the end, magnificently composed, she carried Little Guy out the door, a wild banshee of a boy, thrashing and wailing as he went.
It got me thinking about the difference between control and self-control.
These two things – control and self-control – stand at opposite ends of the maturity spectrum.
The toddler was a live-action reel of a fierce effort to control his mother.
And he was a spectacle of immaturity.
The mom was a breathtaking portrait of impeccable self-control. And she was the epitome of maturity.
Toddlers brim with the impulse to control (even as they bungle the execution). A 3-year-old will resort to wild-eyed tantrums, incessant whining, ear-piercing screams, coy manipulation, and flat-out demand to try to get their way: to control their parent, or sibling, or playmate, or the situation at hand.
But as the toddler’s attempts to control things escalate, his ability to control himself deteriorates. His need to be in control makes him more and more out-of-control. The results are not pretty.
This all looks different in adults – usually.
Of course, we’ve all met 28- or 33- or 59-year olds (sometimes in the mirror) who, in an increasingly desperate effort to control people or situations, throw tantrums, power up, make threats, emotionally blackmail, withdraw into icy silence, and so on.
But most of us, by age 19 or so, have an epiphany of sorts: that the louder we shout, the less others listen.
That the more we manipulate, the further others back away.
That the more we toss a fit, the more others look at us and think, “What a sad strange little man,” or, “What a drama queen.”
That’s the epiphany.
But what we do with it matters a great deal. It determines whether we really grow up or not.
The truly wise become deeply humble. They realize that the only kind of control the Bible endorses – indeed, commands – is self-control.
The New Testament has 16 separate exhortations to be self-controlled. It’s a major theme.
So the wise heed that, and work with the Holy Spirit to get a grip on themselves. They receive the comfort, the rebuke, the strength, and the instruction of God himself to discipline their thoughts, emotions, attitudes, and actions.
They give up trying to control others and step up being in control of themselves.
The lovely irony is that the self-controlled exert wide influence. People listen to them. Heed them. Seek them. Follow them.
In other words, the self-controlled accomplish the very thing the controlling desperately want but only ever sabotage.
Here’s what I’ve learned: Every impulse to seize control — is the Holy Spirit’s invitation to practice self-control.
Every nerve jolt to freak out, melt down, start yelling, fly into rage or panic is a divine cue to slow down, breathe deep, start praying, and lean into God.
Every instinct to control something is God’s nudge to control myself.
I don’t always get it right. When I don’t, I not only lose self-control: I lose influence. I lose respect. I lose dignity.
When I do get it right, I gain all around.
Lord, help me get a grip on myself.

"Every impulse to seize control — is the Holy Spirit’s invitation to practice self-control."