"Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance of what we do not see."

Hebrews 11:1

I distinctly remember talking to a lady at church one day, tears streaming down her face as she told me that her oldest son had graduated and left the house.  He was fine, she said, but it was hard letting him go.  I also remember the feeling of not relating.  I had four small children underfoot and I was in the throes of young motherhood.  I knew I would miss my children, but that time seemed so far away.

"No one told me I would feel sick to my stomach for three days when my kids left the home," one dear father recently told me, tears in his eyes.  And that was a long time ago for him.

And another one, "We had six boys, and it seemed like the house would be busy forever.  And then they were just whisked away more quickly that we could believe it."  Again, tears.  

I felt comforted by these compassionate grandpas.  My own struggle with letting my children go had only begun with Hannah, and I was still trying to get my head around it when Jake graduated.  And now I see the whole lineup of my children, getting ready like so many sky divers to jump out one by one.  And I thought I had learned my lesson about joyfully releasing my children, but I think with each one, I might have to learn it again.

So I was, admittedly, feeling a little sorry for myself.  I told myself (first red flag) that it was so far away, I would see them so seldom.  I rehearsed why it was so hard.  I got caught up in myself and didn't realize that this is a time for faith!  And slowly, my Good Father began peeling off the layers of pride and self-sufficiency and *control* that actually were a lot more wrapped up in my sadness than I had realized.  

Could it be that I really thought my children needed my All Seeing Eyes on them at every moment to keep them on a good path?  Did not the same God who promised me that He would complete His good work in me, also promise that to my children?  And did I really want to keep them from the incredibly beautiful path of grace laid out in front of them as they keeps their eyes on Jesus?

This is what he was made for--he is on the cusp of all the future riches of God's grace in Christ as he leaves our home and finds out for himself what it looks like to walk with God as a young man of integrity and honor.  

My heart has changed.  The things I have told Jake his whole life are also true now for me, as I grab hold of them by faith.  I believe my God, and your God, will walk with you.  I believe He is enough for both of us, and I believe that He is able to do more than we could ask or imagine in you.  

Will I miss his big, tall self in our home?  More than you could imagine.  Will I miss the sounds of the guitar floating down the hallway, background music for our everyday life?  I can't even imagine life without it. His one regret was that he picked a pastime that I could hear so that I knew when he was just sitting around.  I'm so good at putting people to work! :(   I will miss his loud singing to his loud music as he does the dishes and I will miss, "Mom, watch this with me.  It's so hilarious."  I will miss his awesome sense of humor and the way he brings others into our home.  I will miss drinking coffee in the morning together as we all unfold our Bibles and try to wake up.  I will miss coming up with something for him to build. :)I will miss a thousand things about having him close.  And if I kept him close, he would miss more than a thousand things that are waiting for him.

The world is waiting for you, young man!  We have such incredible confidence in God's good plan for you.   

"I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the Word of God lives in you, and you have overcome the evil one." I John 2:14

Ordinary days are gifts of grace

Dave, Carter and I were on our way out for some early morning exercise and three people were waiting outside our gate in the pre-dawn darkness.  It has only happened to us two other times, and one was the death of a child, the other a mama ready to give birth.  Both times the same family.  This time, again, the same family.  My heart sank as I greeted them and opened the gate...no one visits this time of day.  Baba Simon, the dad, started telling us a story of little Loveness, their youngest baby.  I did not want to hear the end of his story, as I had seen Mama Loveness two days earlier with Loveness on her back and she told me she was sick.

That in itself is very common, and Loveness hadn't looked terribly ill.  I told her I was sorry she wasn't well, and we both went on our way.

Baba Simon's story ended just as we feared: Loveness had gone to the hospital and had died in the night.  He wanted to go pick up her body and his wife from the hospital before visiting hours closed, 7:30.  We told him we would drive him there in ten minutes.  He had two other neighbor ladies with him who went home to change.

When I picked them up, I walked into their little plot of land that they live on for free, for guarding the place.  The house is so small that it is hard to imagine a family of five could fit in it.  About six months ago Simon's mother came to live with them, too.  We REALLY couldn't imagine where she fit.

Simon's oldest daughter, Cami, was also sick and looked like she might fall over when we got there.  She is small, probably ten, but looks maybe seven or eight.  She probably cared for Loveness more than their mother did, as she always carried her on her back and looked out for her when she wasn't in school.

Simon said that everyone was going to the hospital.  I asked what Cami and her younger sister, Monica, were going to do.  "They can just stay here," he said.  I asked if they could wait at my house, but he said it wouldn't be long, and they needed to be there when we got back.  I thought Cami might collapse and told him I would send Lauren to sit with them.  Before we left, one of the neighbors patted Cami on the back and said, "Try not to be sad, because that would be so much worse for your mother!"  Cami sat, expressionless.  This is the second little sibling she has lost in two and a half years.

We arrived at the hospital and I watched them all trudge inside to see Mama Loveness.  My white presence often complicates things.  They came back out and Simon said we needed to drive around back to pick up the body.  The morgue is up in back of the hospital and Simon headed inside and came out with Loveness, who was wrapped in a piece of cloth from head to toe, her name taped on with medical tape on the outside of the cloth.  They could not get her in the car easily, as her body was already stiff.  Now I walked around to the driver's side with blurry eyes.  How do you ever comprehend that your child is really gone?  How can anyone get up in the morning who has placed two children in the ground in three years?  I had brought this mama and baby home from the hospital.  I rejoiced that they were given another child after the first baby was taken.  I watched Loveness learn to smile and crawl and take steps.  Mama Simon often compared Loveness and Ben and we laughed at their progression.  Our lives are so radically different, but we are mothers, and we love Jesus.  I don't deserve to have my children alive while hers die.  I don't deserve good health care and knowledge and access to information.

Arriving at their house, the little brick building on the left

When we arrived at the house, the older children were actually told to move aside, and everyone just walked in together, placed the body inside the little house on the bed, and Mama Loveness laid down next to her.  One of the friends said in dismay, "Has the house even been cleaned yet?  Mama Simon, has the house been swept?"  "No."  She went hard to work sweeping out the little area where Mama Simon was laying on the bed.  This seemed really important.  I would have missed it all together, as much as I wanted to help.  Did they have chai?  Should I go buy chapatis?  "They don't have anything, even a pot without holes in the bottom."  OK, I could go make some chai.  "They won't be hungry."  So I gave them money to have a coffin made, money for some of the food for the funeral (funerals are expensive, as they feed everyone), and went home to my own tribe.  One of my sweet kids asked what I wanted for breakfast.  I sat down, numb.  I didn't want to care about breakfast when I was just glad that everyone is still alive.   I was thinking for the past several weeks that some day I should just celebrate normal.  How, if I lost a husband, or a child, I would long for just one normal day.  One day of dishes and relationship struggles and doing normal life together.  Just one more day.  I never want to think that normal is not the most extravagant, gracious miracle.

That afternoon I went back to their house to sit after the funeral.  I sat on a mat that they put out for all the women, and the men had their side over by a tree.  There had been a service, and Pastor Dele had preached, and everyone sat and listened, no matter their denomination.  At a Christian funeral everyone goes to bury the child.  At a Muslim funeral, only the men.  Tanzania has been blessed with incredible peace between the religions.  They attend one another's funerals, and respond accordingly. After things settled down and people were leaving, just milling around, I gave Mama Simon a picture that I had found of Loveness that I printed out for her.  I thought it might be a blessing to her to have just one picture of the child she had lost.  It is not common to have pictures of your family here, at least not many, and I was fairly certain that she didn't have any of Loveness.  The minute I handed it to her, she started wailing, and the woman next to her shoved it back at me in disgust, "How could you give this to her now?"  This might have been my biggest faux pas of all time, and I have had my share.  I felt so sad and so out of place.  I just prayed to the Lord--"You know I wanted to bless her, help her heal."  Then, as is characteristic of social blunders, in my cases at least, I was totally caught off guard when the other ladies passed the picture around, taking peeks at it, "what a great picture," etc. etc. and within ten minutes, Mama Loveness herself had the picture and was looking at it without a lot of emotion.  I was so confused.  But I did recall, albeit a little late, how they try to forget their sadness instead of talking it all out.  They remind eachother of the good things and try to help eachother forget the hard things.  That would have been an important thing to remember in my effort to "help."  It was a good reminder to me of how it is not about me anyways, and I can just do my best and leave the results up to God.  If I jump in with both feet, I might feel like I'm drowning in culture sometimes, but it is still better than walking safely on the shore.  I want to risk and be vulnerable, and that will sometimes be painful.

II Cor 12:9 But He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, that Christ's power may rest on me."

Cami and Loveness

Election Kilele

With all the election kilele (Swahili for "noise"), there have been many opportunities to talk to our children, and think through ourselves, what it looks like to be a Christ-follower in these days.  I'm pretty sure it doesn't look like a lot of what we've seen.

I personally think that aside from the evidence God has given in creation and the Bible, the best argument for Christianity is a changed life.  I cannot look back on my life with the people I know who have been radically changed by Jesus and think that it could have happened any other way.

I can also say that the most embarrassing argument against Christianity, is, unfortunately, Christians themselves.  I am appalled at what others with "my beliefs" say and do, saddened about the way they treat others and the agendas that they seem to pick up and carry, aligning themselves with people and rhetoric at the expense of Gospel truth and hope in a coming KING who will only in the end make all things new.

What a great opportunity this election has been to put our hope in God!  Instead of hoping in a blade of grass (I Pet. 1:24) or a mist that vanishes (James 4:14), I will gladly cry out to "God Most High, to God, who accomplishes all things for me" (Psalm 57:2).  All things, including difficulties and trials that open for me a door to show the world Whom I put my hope in!

But I need look no farther than my mirror to see the biggest hypocrite of all.  I yelled at Jake yesterday for the way he was talking to his sister.  From the other room, yes, but at the top of my lungs.  In case you missed it, it was about the way he was talking to his sister!  He is quick to forgive.

 I chafe at minor requests from people who I don't think deserve my attention or kindness.  I see things from my viewpoint and forget love, the greatest commandment.  In fact, I think because of the new definitions of "love," sometimes I have shied away from it all together, obviously missing the mark.  If you need a reason to discount Jesus, you need look no further than this person right here.

But this is the glorious Gospel--that we are all a huge mess, and it is only grace that reaches in and forgives and makes new!  In John 12, some Greeks come to Jerusalem.  Instead of talking to Phillip, who then goes through Andrew, they state simply, "we would like to see Jesus."  Phillip and Andrew were disciples, but they were mere men.  They wanted to see Jesus himself, face to face.  For a watching world, I would say, please see Jesus for yourself!  And to Christians, may we take Jesus' example and call seriously to lay down our lives for others, whether in dramatic ways or in simply loving those who are radically different than, and even opposed to, us.

If there is one thing that I love about living overseas, it is the perspective that it affords me in times like these.  In the same way that Carter could cover up the supermoon with his thumb last night, distance provides perspective that I have found it hard to have when up too close.  In addition to distance, we have the privilege of being surrounded by people very different than us, whom we love and live in close community with.  Instead of it grating on me, it does the opposite--it makes me think harder about certain issues than I might if I were surrounded by people who are just like me.  And I have to think about how to love well, while having my particular convictions, which I don't always do perfectly, but I am challenged to do better and better.  I am so grateful for the people God has put and used in my life.

An African friend just came by, and of course started talking American politics right away.   His conclusion about the current state of our country was, "We thought we were learning from America about how to do politics, but I it seems like America looks just like Africa now!"  He said it with a smile, but he made a good point.  America, Christ-followers, we can do better!

"Pray...for kings and all those in authority so that we can live peaceful and quiet lives marked by godliness and dignity." I Tim. 2:2

Thoughts from an unripe guava

This summer was such a great chance to reconnect with people.  What a great privilege to spend time with ones we love--family, friends.  It just couldn't have been any better.  It reminded me again of the preciousness of community and the necessity of having people who really know us.

We are privileged to have friends who are as close as family, and family whom we consider to be the best of friends.  I was thinking the other day, that if the rest of my life were misery, it would not even be able to take away the richness of my life so far.  God has been so kind to us.

so many cousins, so much love...

The other day Ben wanted to eat a little guava from the tree.  "It's not ripe yet, buddy!  It's not going to taste yummy."  He persisted, and I thought I would show him what "not ripe" means.  So I handed him one, he bit into it, and promptly spit it out.  "It's yucky!" he declared, disgusted.  Yes, I told you that.  It reminded me again of how sometimes I think my way is pretty clever and how often I need someone to point out that, truly, "it's yucky."  And how God's wisdom is infinitely greater than mine.

I listen to myself, I listen to little comments and take them and compare my life to them, and my heart so quickly leads me astray.  I know Proverbs 4:23, "Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it."  I know it, but I forget to stop and take my thoughts captive and make them obedient to Christ, and I dwell on things that are not real.  

I didn't plan on becoming discontent, I just thought and imagined about what it would be like to have Hannah come home for the weekend with her friends and eat all the food :) and play with the littles.  I imagined how glorious it would be to just have my family all live in one place.  I imagined and pondered and considered, and it seemed harmless enough...and before I knew it, I wanted those things more than anything.  It is not a bad thing, but it is not the thing for me at this moment.  Like Ben and that guava.  And my discontent showed in my lack of thankfulness.  I didn't plan on my way leading to death, but it did.  It led to death of joy and vibrancy.  It killed my passion until I turned my face back towards Jesus and confessed that really, truly, all I want is him.  It is another kind of death, death to self, and I pray I am willing.

I love John 7:37&38, "Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink.  Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them."

As Piper says of this verse, "It means that when you come to Jesus to drink, you don't just get a single drink, but you get a spring, a fountain, a well.  You get Jesus.  Rivers of water will flow because a River-Maker is in you.  That's the point.  You will never have to search again for a source of satisfaction for your soul.  Every river that needs to flow for the joy of your soul will flow from Jesus.  When you come to him, you get him.  And he never leaves!

Staples are not for fruit

II Cor. 3:18 "And we all...beholding the glory of the Lord...are being changed into the same image..."

My 42-ness recently started to rear its ugly head.  All of a sudden I felt, well, old.  Every person in my close proximity was doing everything they could to really get on my nerves, I told myself.  I would just snap in a second over the littlest thing.  I felt passionate about how wrong something was one day and couldn't remember what it was the next.  When I added up the things in my life, they equaled too much.  There are too many interruptions.  There are too many things to train in the two-year-old.  There is too much food that has to come out of this kitchen.  I can't handle life on my own on a good day.  Much less an I-might-be-going-crazy day. 

Ben just stopped screaming at nap time.  He has turned a major obedience corner, and it is a blessing to all of us.  Most notably, he himself is happier.  He would get so out of control when he was tired, kicking and screaming and generally extremely frustrated.  "Just go to sleep!"  I wanted to yell back at him.  Why is it so hard to convince him that it will be best for him to rest and be refreshed?  It sounded like torture just putting him in his bed for a nap.

I am so much like my son.  I might not throw an outward fit, but my inward ones are quite the demonstration of immaturity!  I can't see anything clearly, and I certainly can't see that what I need to do is stop and be quiet.

God reminded me, "apart from me you can do nothing {on any day}." I didn't realize how much I actually did think I could do.  Up until this time I felt fairly self-sufficient.  My "sufficiency" is so completely inadequate.  I told God that He was proving His point, and I wanted to learn my lesson.  

I have always loved John 15.  It is beautifully poetic and goes against everything in me.  I have realized in the last several weeks how much I value strength, especially emotional strength.  I have parented like that, and I have dealt with myself like that.  "For Pete's sake, put on a smile and you would feel a lot better." Which whispers truth, but also lacks compassion for the days when putting on a smile doesn't make everything sparkles and rainbows.  I have to press into Christ in new ways.  I have to rely on His joy and His strength.  I have to deliberately think about what is true more often, more carefully.  "No one lies to you more than you do,*" reminds me to evaluate what I am thinking about, to "take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ."(II Cor. 10:5)

"You did not choose me, but I chose you to go and bear fruit--fruit that will last." (John 15:5).  I can bear some fake fruit, and it can look pretty good, in my own strength.  It gets stapled onto my pathetic, wilting tree and looks attractive, for a while. * Then it starts to rot because it was just faked on and had no Source.  It smells a lot like whitewashed tombs.  

"This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples." v. 8.  It is to the Father's glory.  It comes from remaining in the Vine, the true Source.  All the other pasted-on fruit gets me some glory.  It feeds my sense of self-worth and importance.  It makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something.  Sitting at the feet of Jesus and begging him for wisdom and joy doesn't get me anything except humility and a renewed acknowledgement that I can't do anything without him.  It doesn't look strong.  It looks pretty weak, actually.

Which is what I am: weak, and messy, and stubborn.  I rebel at the thought of submitting myself to anyone and take pride in my pride.  On my worst days, I am in desperate need of saving.  And on my best days, I am  in desperate need of saving.

There is freedom in acknowledging my messiness.  If I don't claim to be anything significant, repentance really isn't difficult and acknowledging my need for Christ is pretty simple, too.  Spending time with Christ produces fruit that I could never muster up.  Overflow of time with Him enables me to have joy.  Taking in the stream of His grace and drinking deeply of His love will  have an effect on my life, only I won't have to strive to "paste" it on.  And when others see it, I probably won't even be aware it's happening.

It's so counter-intuitive: to stop doing more things when everything feels crazy, and to spend time not doing.  Just sitting.  Quiet.  Not getting anything done, but being changed.  It takes faith to believe that it is the best way to spend my time, that doing more will not produce better results.

It's the only way to joy.  "Be still (literally, cease striving).  Know that I am God.  I will be exalted in the heavens, and I will be exalted in the earth."( Ps. 46:10)  

God, my Provider,  be exalted in my life as I get quiet before you

 and change because I have been beholding Your glory.

*Illustration of stapling on fruit belongs to Paul Tripp.  To read more from a section of his book, "Instruments in the Redeemer's Hands," about heart change, click here.

Claustrophobia on aisle 6

We have a new, fancy mall in town.  It is rather incredible, with dozens and dozens of shop spaces....and several shops actually up and running....mostly phone shops right next to each other.  We have been waiting for the new supermarket to open its shiny glass doors since Christmas, when they put their sign up and sold several items in the main lobby.
So when Dave visited TSN on Monday, which he has affectionately called 'The Super Narket' (actual name Tanzania Sisi Nyumbani), he told me that the prices were great and there were a lot of customer service people (think "How Can I Help You" blue shirts at Walmart).  In fact, he said the customer service people were rather intent on their jobs.

I grasped on to the idea of cheap prices and chalked up the 'service people' thing to the fact that he is an introvert and might not like talking to everyone in the store.

Later in the afternoon, when I went to check it out with the kids, I called Dave within two minutes of entering that air-conditioned paradise and told him I had found my new favorite place.  Cheap chocolate?!  What else could a woman wish for?!  He said he was glad for me, that yes, it was nice.

Five minutes later I told him I had changed my mind.  Five minutes of telling red-shirted customer service people that I was just looking, thank you.  Five minutes of trying to push my own cart with Ben in it, because they each wanted to push it for me.  Five minutes of continuing to put on a smile that was rapidly fading.  Truly, they were trying to be helpful, and Tanzanians are notably kind and patient (more patient than I am, obviously) and their idea of service is to make sure you know they are there for you.  So most of the time I couldn't see what I was trying to look at because someone was standing between me and the product,  asking if I wanted to buy the product I was trying to look at.  Frustrated at my independence, finally one just decided to follow right behind me through the rest of the aisles.  By this time I was cracking up laughing because I didn't know how else to say that I just wanted a little space for me and Ben.  And I found myself racing through the aisles, away from help.

In addition to wanting to help, there were also not any price tags on the products, and the prices had not been entered in the computers yet, so if someone saw something in your cart that didn't have a sticker on it, they would tell you to wait while they ran back to find out the price, wrote it on a pad of stickers they all had in their hands, and label it for you.

Some sections of the store had a stockpile of one product with a sign that said SALE SALE SALE SALE but there was no price, and people were not quite sure how much it actually was until they asked around.

I ended on the cheese aisle, and stared wide-eyed at mozzarella and cheddar and even specialty cheeses.  Funny--there were three customer service people in this aisle and not one of them approached me.  In fact, when I caught their eye, they looked away.  Finally I tapped one of them and asked how much the cheese was.

"It's not for sale."

"No one knows how much it is, so you can't buy it yet."

"But we have little bottles of chocolate and strawberry milk?"

It's OK, I don't love chocolate milk on my pizza. :)

Somehow I had missed the stickers for some of my items, so at the checkout counter with fancy computers that were all turned off, I had to tell the lady writing every item down in a special book how much certain things were, and then another lady added it on a little calculator.

Until heaven, things will not be what we think they should be.  Progress takes time!  And that is right and good.  Let me not put my hope in cheeses and peaceful shopping experiences. :)

Buy it up

Psalm 90:12 "So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom."

 When we get an unusual product in our local grocery store, you would think we won the lottery.  “HEY MOM!  U-turn has Werther’s candies again!”  When something special hits the shelves, it doesn’t last long.  We know that if we don’t buy it up, it might not be there again any time soon (or ever!).  There is an ever-so-fine line between spotting it and getting some for later and being an absolute hoarder, uninterested in someone else’s desire to maybe have a little bit of it too. :)  

So it made perfect sense to me when I was reading in Ephesians 5:15-16 “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of time because the days are evil.”  Literally, “Look, hear, perceive how you are passing your life, not as foolish people (wasting their days) but as wise, skilled people who make the most of opportunities.  Buy up your moments, because the days are evil.”  Buy up, like at the market, like at U-turn.  These moments are flying off the shelves, never to be had again.  Hoard them!  Grab them and squeeze out all their worth, for you won’t get the chance again!  And then I saw something else.  Isn’t God’s Word a treasure, worth digging for?!  “…the days are evil.”  But the word evil also means “full of labors, annoyances, hardships” or the evil causing such things.  Wow, God.  I can’t really think of one person who doesn’t think that the days are filled with labors, annoyances and hardships.  This evil world overflows with frustrations every day.  No wonder it is so hard to buy back the time—I am too busy with my labors and annoyances to notice when the time I am meant to redeem 

is slipping right out from under me.  

We headed to the village with Kate and Ben to visit old friends.  We hadn’t seen this dear couple for about seven months.  We treasure their friendship and cultural wisdom.  We saw them coming toward us through the field by their house, welcoming us.  

They invited us into their house.  

They are simple, by the world’s standard extremely poor.  I noticed that day that I didn’t see them that way anymore.  They are rich in spirit.  They exude generosity and kindness.  Prepared before us on a simple, small wooden table was mandazi (local donuts) and chai.  Eagerly praying over our snack, mama hobbled to her chair and told us, “Eat, eat!”  Ben gulped his chai eagerly; he doesn’t usually drink super sweet tea at home. They thought it strange that Americans don’t usually give their children tea.  Even tiny children here drink it every day!  We shared life together, talked about their struggling health, how many pieces of tin they needed to finish their house.  “Buy back this time,” kept running through my mind.  How, God?  How do I make the most of this opportunity?  By being fully engaged, thankful, talking of You.  By learning.  By soaking in these sun-dried fields while we walk back to the car, a promise of a chicken from these dear people the next time we come around.  

We headed to greet another Mama whom we have known for a long time.  Coming up the path towards her, I could see through her thin dress and the sun shone on her very thin body, much thinner than the last time I visited with her.  “Mama Hannah!  I have had a baby!”  Just six weeks previous, and she looked like she was wasting away.  I held her beautiful girl, her fourth child, and she showed me that her baby had been “born with a problem.  No anus.”  So she just had a colostomy they had made in her abdomen that should have had a bag over it, but instead was just open and she wipes it constantly throughout the day as waste seeps out.  “It has been a trouble for me!”  Maybe a bit of an understatement…she is trying to carry water, cook food, get firewood, work, do laundry, nurse a baby, wipe the opening all day long.  My heart ached for her.  Having a child like that in America would be challenging.  Having a child like that in the village, almost impossible.  “Redeem this time.  Don’t leave her without giving hope.”  Yes, Mama, this is difficult but God has given you a blessing!  I will pray for you!  And I don’t tell her, but I will  go home and see what I can do for her.  God, help me to help her.  

Help her know that you are El Roi, the God who Sees and may she,

 like Hagar, see the one who has seen her.  

We end at our Bible study with a dear couple, Ben throwing corn cobs around that have been stripped of their yellowish glory, Katie helping to get all the kernels off into the massive pile that is food for the future.  We marvel through Ephesians 2—after the devastating state we were wallowing in, complete darkness, actually dead in our own sin, this astonishing clause, “But God…!”  But GOD, who is rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, made us alive, by grace!  And prepared good works in advance.  Not so that we could get to heaven by them, or earn His blessings,  but so that (v.7) we might show the immeasurable riches of His grace in His kindness to us in Christ Jesus!   

It comes full circle!  We don’t buy back the time because we have to, to earn His favor.  We don’t even buy back the time because we don’t have much time left, which is true.  We buy back the time because we want to show the storehouse of His mercy and grace has enabled us to walk in these good works that He prepared for us.  The glory is not meant for us.  The glory of a life well lived only goes to Christ and His great mercy!  Oh Christ, have mercy!  My days are harried and sometimes feel frantic.  Give me eyes to see people, to take in this moment, not be so preoccupied that I miss it.  I want to get every opportunity and not miss a moment.  In the end, all of life is only made of many such moments!

II Cor. 5:15  “[and Christ] died for all so that those who live should no longer live for themselves, but for him who for their sake died and was raised.”