If this blog does nothing but serve as a form of written therapy for myself, then that is fine. But for the sake of argument, what if its something more? What if
person stumbles upon it and sees something that will make them laugh. Or smile. Or possibly even change their life.
This all started as a way to document things my children were doing, but it has turned into so much more. This is telling the world who I am.
I'm almost embarrassed when I see that this is my first post about my faith. But such is life.
So here is a little about what God is doing in my life...
Right now, the biggest lesson God is teaching me is patience. The majority of those lessons come from my children. I'll be the first to admit that I'm an IMPERFECT MOTHER.
I lose my cool. I'm hard on my kids. And I yell...and I HATE that about myself!
So after a particularly stressful afternoon with two rambunctious children, I sat down to read my devotions. (I so NEED to be STARTING my day like this). Right now I am reading Beth Moore's 'Jesus 90 Days With The One And Only'. I can't say enough about it. Its life changing.
Today I read Luke 2:15-20. Verse 19 says, "But Mary was treasuring up all these things in her heart and meditating on them." Then Beth asked, "What would the result be in your life if you took more time to treasure your blessings and meditate on them?"
Hello Beth Moore, so glad you were in my house this afternoon. Also, thank you for writing page 36 for me!
I need to treasure my children every morning. They are my biggest blessing. I need to meditate on them, pray over their lives...fervently.
So I'll leave you with the tear-stained excerpt from what I read this afternoon. This is Beth's take on what Mary's first moments were like as she treasured her new blessing.
'Her body lay sapped of strength, her eyes were heavily closed, but her mind refused to give way to rest. She ached for her mother. She wondered if she yet believed her. She heard the labored breathing of the man sleeping a few feet from her. Only months before he was little more than a stranger to her. She knew only what she had been told and what she could read in occasional shy glances. She had been told he was a good man. no man, no matter how kind, could have done what he had done. She wondered how long it had been since he'd really rested.
A calf, only a few days old, awakened hungry and could not find its mother. The stir awakened the baby who also squirmed to find His mother. Scarcely before she could move her tender frame toward the manger, He began to wail! She scooped Him in her arms, her long hair draping His face, and she quietly slipped out of the gate. She gingerly sat down and leaned against the outside of the stable, propped the baby on her small lap, and taking a strip of linen and trying back her hair, she began to stare into His tiny face. She had not yet seen Him in the light. She had never seen the moon so bright. The night was nearly as light as the day. Only hours old, his chin quivered, not from the cold, but from the sudden exposure of birth. His eyes were shaped like almonds and were as black as the deepest well. She held Him tightly and quietly hummed a song she's learned as a child. She had been so frightened of this moment, so sure she would not know what to do. She had never held an infant so small, and He was God, wrapped in soft, infant flesh, with bones so fragile she felt like He could break. She had pictured this moment so many times. What would the Son of the Spirit look like? She never expected Him to look so normal, so common. Must have been the part He inherited from His mother. She was so sure she'd feel terribly awkward. So afraid she'd drop him-the Messiah-and God would be awfully sorry He had given Him to her! Instead, every fear, every doubt, every inadequacy was momentarily caught up in the indescribable rapture of a mother's affection...'
