Count Your Blessings

This blog is both old and new. I started writing it years ago I think, but today it hits fresh as I commit to this practice once more. Challenged by a friend to join her in being grateful, I then combed through my writings to find this—a reminder of where I once was, and where I am again, and how God gently reminds us to be filled by Him, His Word, His promises, His commands. In this season of emptiness, but being filled, I need this discipline. I’m asking the Lord to give me eyes to see the things for which I can be grateful.

 

So, I've started counting my blessings—again—and literally. I've taken to the simple task of making a list of 5-10 things every day for which I'm grateful. Lists of gratefulness, lists of gifts, lists of blessings. Sometimes I jot them quickly at the beginning of my day and sometimes at the end. I even find myself speaking them out loud in my car sometimes, "I am grateful for...."

 

And once again, I'm blown away by the change this simple discipline is making in my life.

 

You see, we talk about the knowledge of the things we know. We know we have things for which to be grateful. We know we are blessed. Our head acknowledges this, but does our heart feel it? If you want to feel a thought, we all inevitably must put action to it. The Bible calls it obedience (James 1:22). His Word says to give thanks, over and over again in scripture. 1 Thessalonians 5:18 actually says it is God’s will that we do so in everything! The thoughts in my head are only that...thoughts. God knows them, but Satan doesn't, your family doesn't, sometimes even we ourselves are not cognizant of them until they have flesh and bones, until they are words written on a page or given the breath of life by being spoken out loud. 

 

Give thanks. Give is an action, not a passive thought. Give of your time by making the list. Give of your energy by saying the words out loud. Give simply but give. Obey. Even when you don't want to, especially if you don't want to. And when you can't give thanks, when life hurts too much and you can't see a single gift to count, ask a friend what they see in your life and give someone else the gift of being a blessing to you in your darkest need.

 

I have been in dark places. Sat in dark pits of my heart and mind. I chose to quest for joy some time ago. I chose to treasure hunt for joy because I love Jesus, and He says joy is a fruit of His Spirit which I know resides within me (Galatians 5:22), so I have a right to joy, my life in Christ produces the byproduct of joy, not just for others to experience, but for myself as well.  If I believe this to be true, then I need to know what joy is to experience it in my life. I need to know how God defines joy, how He sees it, how He gifts it, and how I can recognize it in my own life.

 

It is a quest for sure, maybe a lifelong one. Psalm 16:11 has proven to be truth time and time again: I have found joy to be God's presence. Anywhere, anything where you can actively acknowledge, see, proclaim the presence of the Lord, there is joy. I find Him in His creation, so I take long walks on the beach and could stare at the ocean for hours. (Well, this was a favorite. I’m trusting God to fill this area as well with something new.) I find His presence in small blessings throughout my day, but to appreciate all those blessings, I need to write them down, to capture the thought, to make it captive to daylight and pen and paper and reality (2 Corinthians 10:5). 

 

Counting God's gifts releases joy from a spiritual plane into our earthly one. I need this in my life right now. I need the power of the Spirit to be fresh wind and fresh fire in my soul here, now, in this physical world. I want the Spirit Himself to fill my sails and propel me forward into where God is leading next, so I will begin with the simplest of disciplines. I will give thanks.

 

Thank You, Father, that I know Georgia is where You alone have led us.

Thank You that I don’t have to second guess this decision.

Thank You for gifting us a home that is just the right size.

Thank You for a husband who sees me and our family in our pain and seeks to serve You first and us second.

Thank You for children who love You, Father, who are rooted firmly in Your truth.

Thank You for the school You built in California that prepared them to be light in Georgia.

Thank You for the truth of Your Word that is an anchor to the soul.

Thank You for being with me when I seek Your presence.

Thank You for the gift of Your only Son, so I can experience the gift of Your very presence with me every day.

Thank You for the blue of my pool in the backyard that reminds me of the ocean.

Thank You for the towering trees of green wrapping this home in beauty.

Thank You for white paint and daylight light bulbs to brighten a space.

Thank You for sunlight that filters through the shade to enlighten dark spaces adding beauty, warmth, and shine as it does so.

Thank You for all the ways Your creation declares Your glory, Lord (Psalm 19:1). May I be a reflection of You as well.

 

 

Getting Comfortable with Uncomfortable

I can feel the rumblings of a new beginning. I’ve been here before. I am resistant. That’s the problem with getting comfortable in life.

Seven years ago, when I was alone and uncomfortable in life, I walked the California beaches alone and prayed desperately for God to meet me and to bring friends into my life. He answered far above and beyond what I could have hoped or imagined.

In time, life got good, comfortable. I stopped praying to meet new people. I stopped praying for God use to me because I was being used daily within the circle of people He had already given. In some ways, I stopped needing Him because He had provided all that I had trusted Him to provide.

That’s not a bad place to be! If I’ve learned anything, I want to recognize and enjoy the good gifts of the Lord—every day. I want to be grateful for His blessings and answered prayers while also always seeking Him for more. Not more things or people or experiences, but more of Himself, more of what He wants for my life. That’s what you stop doing as much when life gets comfortable or predictable even. You forget Jesus is always calling you to more of Himself.

Don’t you think God knows this? He knows that change is good for us. It feeds our souls. It stretches and strengthens us in ways we cannot orchestrate for ourselves. I truly believe if we ever get too comfortable and slow the pace of seeking His face, He will gift change to break the spell of comfort. We can seek change for ourselves willingly, or we will be given change unexpectedly. We can accept this is what is best, or we can fight tooth and nail against the changing tide. Change is inevitable in life, much like death. To refuse to acknowledge the presence of either in this life is foolishness.

And much like death, change must be grieved. Anger, denial, sadness, acceptance—these are all part of the process of change. Our culture doesn’t like the emotions of anger, denial, and sadness. It frowns upon their presence. We don’t know how to sit and just be with people who are angry, in denial, or sad, so we often leave them alone until they’ve reached acceptance. When they’ve had time to accept is when it’s safe to reach out. Until they’ve reached acceptance, investing in them means weathering hurt feelings, irrational outbursts, frustrating mindsets, and tears—so many tears.

Yet, those are the people I treasure! The ones who lean in and take nothing personally when “attacked” because they’re wise enough to know there’s more going on under the surface than themselves. They stay. They connect. They seek the ones who can’t seek for themselves right now.

Isn’t that what Jesus did? He went to the people hurting and seeking and always met them right where they were. He leaned in and got dirty and sat with them in their homes. He listened to their cries, spoke with them in the dark, and gently showed them truth. He gave them the gift of Himself—His presence, His attention, His truth, His time, His acceptance of their shortcomings. He spoke most harshly to those who would judge these in their anger, denial, and sadness.

My life just got flipped, turned upside down, and I’ve been taking a minute to process here in Georgia. I’m back to the lonely days of just me and Jesus. I’m back to seeking His company first. I probably should have never stopped. I’m soaking in my time with just Him because I’ve learned it’s during this hard season of quiet stillness and waiting, when Jesus sits with you that the enormity of His presence fills and stretches the heart slowly. For me, He uses this time to not just allow wounds to rest and heal but to strengthen the muscles of my heart I will need to move forward, to enlarge and make space in me for what He will provide to fill.

It’s uncomfortable to be stretched, sometimes even painful. But like I said, I’ve been here before. I trust the process a little bit more this time around. I know these quiet days won’t last. God will fill them in His time in ways He sees best; I need only wait and watch and be ready.

“So, Father, fill me with You. Fill all of me. Stretch me with Your great abiding presence. I will wait. I will wait for You to move first, and where You go, I will go because I know now, You’ve already walked the path ahead of me, and You know what I need today to be ready for tomorrow. So, I trust You bottle all my tears, Lord. Not one of them is shed in secret or in vain. Thank You for valuing and loving me enough to change me, to mold me into Your unique creation. Thank You that even in the pain of the grief of change, You are with me. I am never alone.”