Tag: trust

Want to SURVIVE or THRIVE in the New Year?

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Alone. Ten-thirty p.m. New Year’s Eve.

The ballgame was over. My sleepy husband and daughter had called it a night, but I was wired up from the exciting game. As I scrolled channels looking for anything entertaining and waiting for the ball to drop, I felt sad.

Extroverted me would’ve loved sharing the evening with family. Friends. People. Any people. I was alone and mopey, feeling sorry for myself. As I sat there in the dim glow of the Christmas tree lights and TV screen I knew I should be happy and content, but I wasn’t.

I wasn’t terminally ill. I had a warm place to live, family, and friends. I was in relatively good health for some over the hill. Why couldn’t I be grateful? I knew so many people who had so many more struggles than I currently did: cancer, Covid19, broken marriages, addicted kids… For several it was their first Christmas without that child, spouse, or parent; death is a thief.

So why did my limping knees and my husband’s sciatic pain send me into an emotionally dark place? I don’t know, maybe I’m just a selfish greedy person. I should be able to put my woes into perspective.

Sitting there, tears blurring the TV screen, I desperately said to myself “What do I need to do to fix this? I need hope. But I need to trust God, too. And I need rest – real rest. My soul is weary.” As those words came out, I thought of those three particular words: Trust, Hope, and Rest. Yes! That’s what I need more of in 2022! The first letters of each word came to my attention: T… H… R… and the word THRive came to my mind. I knew in that moment THAT was my word for 2022 – thrive.

A few minutes later when the ball dropped, I was at a place of peace and able to doze off.

The next morning I got up pessimistically wondering what catastrophes this year might hold. I don’t like myself when I think that way. I really wanted to have a good day, and that required a good attitude which I didn’t have in the moment. So I set to my normal morning routine: coffee, Bible, journal – sip, read, listen, pray.

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I’m so grateful that godly people and the Father Himself have taught me the importance of spiritual habits. Bible reading, praying, journaling to listen, and scripture memory all used to be hit or miss activities in my Christian walk through life. I usually did them when I was needy, depressed or emotional, kind of as a bribe to get God to do something for me, I guess.

But after 40+ years of walking with God, He had convinced me to come say Good morning! to Him each (and every) morning no matter what I was feeling or had to do that day. At first it was hard to develop that habit. Laundry, computer work, or the network news shows vied for my attention first thing in the morning. But month by month over the years, I slowly came to see that having that relationship with Him, that routine of meeting with Him, during happy or mundane times would be a lifeline to me in my sad or tragic times.

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So New Year’s Day 2022 I set about my morning routine.

Our pastor encourages us to find a watchword and a scripture verse each year. Every year for the past five or six years I’ve known my word going into the new year. Father God has brought it to my attention in the last few weeks of the year, and I’ve been able to start off day one with a focus word and verse. Perhaps that was part of my gloominess the year, I had yet to receive a Word from the Lord and I felt… lost, adrift, sailing into the new year.

As I sipped my peppermint mocha coffee, I thought over the word I’d had dropped in my mind last night. I believed it was my word for the year, but I always pick a word that is found in scripture, and I doubted I’d find the word THRIVE in the Bible. So opening my Bible and journal, I started off a bit skeptical.

And guess what I found! It’s there! The word “thrive” is in God’s word in several places! Who knew?! It is translated as thrive, flourish, or prosper. But the idea behind it is to blossom, break forth, grow, increase, rise, grow fat, push forward, germinate, or bear fruit! Yes! That’s what I wanted for this year, to break out of the dark soil of depression and weariness and grow into a thriving, fruitful vine! A vine pleasing my Maker and bearing fruit that nourished other believers.

Ezekiel 17:24 is the verse God gave me. “Then all the trees of the field will know that I am the LORD. I bring down the tall tree, and make the low tree tall. I cause the green tree to wither and make the withered tree thrive. I, the LORD, have spoken and I will do it.’ ”

Though we may feel like a small, withered tree – the Lord will cause us to THRIVE – to Flourish! God has spoken good for His children in His Word and He will do it! He. Not I. I can’t make myself into a tall, thriving tree, but Father God can. I cannot fix my weary soul, but He, the LORD will do it. I can take joy in that. It doesn’t depend on my trying, fixing, or controlling. Whew!

So what is my part? Nothing and everything. Nothing. Nothing to manipulate or fret over or manage or worry about. But everything. Every single day I must come sit at His feet, read, pray and listen to Him, coming into a closer more intimate relationship that will sustain me through everything: the discouragement, heartache and fear. A relationship based on Trust in Him, Hope in Him, and Rest in Him. A relationship where I Thrive.

That is my prayer this year, for me and for you as well. May we not just survive another year, may we Thrive, germinate, break forth from the dark, and bear fruit.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” ~ Jesus

John 15:5

Peace-Filled Postage

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But you, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness. Turn to me and have mercy on me; show your strength in behalf of your servant; save me, because I serve you just as my mother did. Give me a sign of your goodness, that my enemies may see it and be put to shame, for you, Lord, have helped me and comforted me. Psalm 86:15-17

When we were younger my sister was a collector. At any given time she’d have a “collection” going. She collected all manner of things: trolls, cherubs, clowns. She collected sentimental things and not so much. Nowadays we’d call it hoarding. She was particularly good at collecting stamps. Ever so often we would have to make our way to the cramped stamp store on the top floor of the mall, Century Plaza to pick up a stamp or 10 to add to her collection.

I never really minded much because post stamp purchase we would make our way to Hickory Farms for a tasty sample of cheese and an inevitable beef stick purchase. If Mama was feeling real generous we would also be the recipients of a double doozy cookie and an impromptu trip to the Afterthoughts, a purveyor or fine 90s costume jewelry. It frequently featured a buy one get two free special affording Mama, Kel, and Me our own black plastic bag with a delightful accessory to call our own. I liked hoops, plain hoops. I still do. Kel liked big flashy earrings. She still does. All that to say I remember vividly those days. But the stamps, they never appealed to me, not really. To be frank they got on my nerves a bit.

batch-business-close-up-209641Recently Scott Martin began receiving a monthly parcel in the mail. The content of said parcel is most definitely of value but my favorite feature is the stamp on the top right of the envelope. I giggled when the first introduction to this monthly parcel yielded a batman stamp. From then on I’ve found myself looking forward to the choice of stamp atop his parcel. There have been, presidents, scenery, landmarks, and just for the eclipse last year, some eclipse ones, you can hold your thumb over the picture of the moon and it will eclipse. We kept that one and put it on the fridge.

A while back I found myself sans Martin children at a meeting we frequent. This meeting always has a “free table.” Much like their Aunt Kel, my Martins are “Collectors” so the free table affords them many a treasure. A pair of megaphone cheerleader socks, a book written in the 1960s that I am certain no one will read. A puzzle missing 3 crucial corner pieces. Any number of one man’s trash becomes a Martins’ treasure. Treasure laid out with an invitation of “Free” scribbled onto a piece of folded copy paper. We always leave with more than we came. So when I found myself at the meeting with no Martins I was certain I would leave empty-handed. That was, until I came across the stamp collection activity. There in yellowed envelopes were dozens of stamps begging to be catalogued and loved. I thought for certain my Maggie would love them. I couldn’t have been more wrong. She was not in the least interested.

close-up-colors-images-709237I had attempted to discard them several times since the meeting but I just couldn’t do it. They make me smile. I feel nostalgic when I see them. I wonder about the mail they’ve carried across the world. What those letters might’ve said, who might’ve written them. I’ve wondered about the hands that have purchased them and those that have removed them from their parcels. I’ve even wondered if the spit that licked them might be analyzed to reveal the licker was famous. Perhaps JFK licked that 1/2 cent Ben Franklin when he wrote to Jackie. Far-fetched and symptomatic of a way too overly active imagination I’m sure.

One restless night I organized an envelope of “210 U.S. Stamps” into colors. ROY G BIV to be exact. Just the act of quietly sitting and sorting brought a calm I hadn’t felt in a long while. I studied them and wondered and as I made the determination where each one belonged, I pondered its message.

There was one that struck me. I’m not much of a signs and wonder kind of gal, but I was in awe of that one. So many times as of late I’ve just not known what to do and I’ve resorted to looking for a sign. There printed on a 4 cent stamp from who knows when in history were the words “Pray for Peace. In God is our trust.” I don’t suppose He could have made it any plainer to me. The fact is I know Him, I just do not always whole-heartedly trust Him, and Peace has been known to allude me for far too long. I am thankful for the discarded collection of stamps and I am thankful that once again the King shows Himself faithful by using the discarded and seemingly unworthy to sooth my broken heart and to set me straight when I’ve been uncertain of the direction to take.

stamp

 

Trust in the Midst of the Storm

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Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. Prov. 3:5-6

I’m learning some things. In the last 4 or so years I’ve learned several new vocabulary words, acronyms, acrostics, terminology, and grammar. All with a common subject matter, meteorology.

If you’d’ve asked me 16 years ago if I’d be learning said subject matter, I would’ve laughed and likely said “Never.”

Something else learned. Never say never, for the King alone knows what the future holds.

When two are one, one is bound to know what the other knows. Case in point words like dew point, humidity, wind speed, rotation, high pressure, low pressure, atmospheric, thermodynamics, cyclonic, lightning (so not the same as lightening) precipitation and hurricane.

They are no longer benign words heard on the television or in the background. Now they mean something. There is value associated with them, and I’d’ve never thought that was possible. Today I watched my man, finish his coffee and assess the weather for the day. Typically he starts with the gold standard in Alabama weather, and today was no different. As he watched Mr. Spann confirm via video what he had just told me, the catastrophic results of an approaching hurricane, I could see him thinking. His hand on his head, the strain a visible result produced by the calculation of the prediction was spread across his face. He intently listened and processed what was being said, what was not being said but what he knew. What 4 years of hard work and an A average GPA has taught him. What daily forecasts, prognostications, and such have yielded in him and he never said a word.

I’d’ve been a bona fide basket case but he just sat there drinking his coffee. Swig after swig from a cup that was a gift some years ago, a cup that summed up what he does and what I am instructed by the King to do but do not always. To lean not upon my own understanding but to press into the God of the Universe. There black pretty letters scrolled into a green background, “Trust.” Plainly written. He pondered over what was in front of him and he was living it out perfectly. He knows the facts, he knows the potential outcome, yet he trusts and he prays and he doesn’t panic. I love that about him, I always have. He is a good weatherman but an even better Man and I am so very thankful for him, for his humble and quiet leadership and for the adventure that I get to be a part of since we are yoked together and the two became one.

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers,they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire,you will not be burned;the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God,the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.” Isaiah 43:1-3 

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