Category: Praise (Page 2 of 2)

“For of all the things our minds can think about God, it is thinking upon his goodness that pleases him most and BRINGS THE MOST PROFIT to our souls.” One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp

Every December I pray about what “word” God wants me to focus on for the upcoming year. Oh my, the lessons that have come from that word.

2010 “simplicity,

2011 “intentionality”,

2012 “PAIN and JOY” (that was a ROUGH year).  And coming out of one of the hardest years of my life…”Gratitude”

At first I tried to argue with God about this word. It’s easy to be thankful when life is going great, but what about when you’re in the middle of tragedy?  At the time,  I was a wreck. I was still grieving the death of my precious grandmother. It was also post-house fire. Physically weak and emotionally exhausted , counseling sessions became the lifeline of my week.  We were living in a small rental house, with borrowed furniture and boxes full of smokey-water damaged possessions filling our garage. Nothing was familiar and GRIEF was thick. How could I show “GRATITUDE” when much of our life on earth had gone up in flames?

But slowly, God reframed my view. The circumstances were the same, but all around me the challenge was not to focus on what we LACKED, but what we HAD. This viewpoint changed my life.

I received many gifts after the fire, but ironically two books (from separate people) came in the mail a week apart. “Choosing Gratitude” by Nancy Leigh DeMoss and “One Thousand Gifts” by Ann Voskamp.  Coincidence? I think not!

I sensed God challenging me to become disciplined about recording my gifts. To write down and speak out the GOOD that I was seeing around me even though there was plenty of bad. This was hard- and those who know me really well and remember walking that road with me know that it was not all roses (and neither was my attitude). But the faithful consistency of reflecting on what I was THANKFUL for turned a tumultuous year into a year of richness where we saw God’s presence in the little details. God gave us One thousand + gifts.

Funny side note:  2013- God also began opening doors for me to speak! WHAT?!?  At least 8 times that year I was asked to come and speak to various groups.  I was “THE FIRE SURVIVOR” and almost every speaking engagement  asked me to speak about  GRATITUDE.  I couldn’t get away from it even if I tried! I had to study it. I had to speak about it.  I was challenged to live it.

When I cried tears of loss over special items gone- I wrote down “Thankful our LIVES weren’t lost”

When I was mad at my husband (yes, that happens occasionally) I’d write down – “Thankful he’s still with me,” Writing down the good about him would change the negative mindset I had let set in. Gratitude is a marriage game-changer.

When I was exhausted and without energy I’d write- “Thankful for friends who carry me. Thankful for other mamas who can care for my kids when I can’t”

And friends, the year of Gratitude showed me that giving thanks in all circumstances really IS God’s will for us.

GRATITUDE: It breathes life and HOPE and joy into our weary bones.

We don’t have to thank God FOR yucky circumstances, but we can learn to thank God IN those circumstances.  He never changes. He is always with us. He goes before us and hems us in from behind. HE is the one we can be grateful for.  And gratitude changes our perspective!There is always something or someone(s) to be thankful for.  .

I wanna be a person of gratitude. Don’t you?

    It’s a choice, every day, every moment. To focus on what we have versus what we don’t 

Maybe our”Thanksgiving” holiday needs to last for a YEAR instead of just a day.

Join me in the mission of gratitude.

A woman of Gratitude: “It’s not that they have the fewest problems, or the cleanest histories, or the most obvious reasons for happiness. They’re simply the ones who are “loudest” about giving thanks, who are not always reciting a long list of problems, complaints, and criticisms, but who choose to be grateful.  They know they’ve already been given more than life could ever cost them. The Lord keeps them full despite the world’s best attempts at depleting them. And they don’t mind telling you about it.”  Choosing Gratitude, by Nancy Leigh DeMoss.

 It is an honor to introduce you to today’s guest writer, Tiffana. Pretty certain you will be moved by her story.  Two years ago, this very month her life was on the line. Today she stands tall, beautiful, restored, redeemed and radiating. Her life has been transformed. Thank you Tiffana, for the courage you’ve shown in sharing your story with us.

I can remember it as if it was yesterday. I slowly woke up to the sound of footsteps pacing through the halls. I could barely make out the silhouettes of the shadows reflecting off the starch white wall. She tapped me on my foot with her blue pen and said, “Time for vitals.”  My head was pounding – throbbing – and my body aching. Vitals? I have vitals? This meant I was alive. Suddenly, the reality of my failure had hit me as the shame of my condition slowly settled in.

Vitals mean I am alive – I had not overcome the darkness.

Suicide. It is a tricky thing.  For once in my life I felt like I had ultimate control, that no more, not one instance longer, would I be at the mercy of another individual, or at the mercy of my agonizing depression. I could face my very own darkness head on and slip away into eternity forever. What relief that would be. I no longer had the courage to face the unbearable pain I had endured for so long. In this moment – in my most daring moment of vulnerability and honesty – I had lost the very thing I thought I was regaining – rights to my own body.

I felt like a criminal.

I wasn’t allowed to bathe alone, eat alone, or sleep alone. I had to be watched, because I was no longer safe to myself. I was humiliated amidst the greatest pain I had ever endured.

The reality settled in. Vitals? Vitals mean I am alive.

I lifted my head and the smell overtook me. The cold air whispered out of the eerily clean vent above my head, and the aroma of the sterile hospital forced its way through my nostrils. I dug my head back into the bare mattress, for I had even lost the dignity to have a pillow to lay my head on, or a set of sheets to crawl into for comfort. In defeat, I mumbled through the sounds of heart monitors:

“My vitals are fine, I am breathing – what more do you want?”

Shivers radiated through my spine as her cold bare hands landed on the arch of my back.  “You have to get up, it’s time for vitals.”   If you would have told me this hospital would be my cure for cancer, I would have gladly stayed – but since you told me this hospital was my cure for mental illness, I crawled into the misery of shame and guilt. What had I done?

I had spent a few days in the mental hospital before entering back into my community. A community I feared would reject me – a community that would tell me I was selfish for such an act. I expected to be surrounded by critics and onlookers who would tell me that my depression was a failure of faith.

But boy was I wrong.

I had experienced the Body of Christ in a way that I had only read in books, and heard in well-planned sermons. More than a dozen people, of all different ages and creeds, reached out their hands to me and invited me into their rest. They didn’t give me cliché, or a good book to read. They gave me themselves. They gave me Jesus. They intentionally and compassionately poured into me, day after day. It wasn’t a weeklong seminar or recovery facility. It was a group of people, in the middle of their busy, daily lives, reaching out to me. It took more than weeks, more than a month – it took nearly a year, yet they faithfully stood by be, and consistently poured into my life.

“I was hungry, and they gave me something to eat; I was thirsty, and they gave me something to drink; I was a stranger, and they invited me in; naked and they clothed me; I was sick and they visited me; I was in [the greatest] prison [ever], and they came to me.” – Matthew 25:35- 36

This wasn’t an organized rehabilitation community. It was the outrageous love of everyday individuals who daily chose to be present. They washed my wounds, and honored me as though I was royalty. They hid me in my shame and covered me with a cloak of honor.

Jesus didn’t come for those who were healthy, but He came for those who were sick. Mark 2:17

And He did just that – and they did just that. They showed up. Day after day, month after month, they showed up. They reached out their hands, gently opened their hearts and lives, and daily whispered; “I choose to love you today.”

It is a courageous story of a community that I truly believe, on that day, Christ will proudly utter, “Well done, good and faithful servants. Well done, my good and faithful friends.”

-Tiffana

A new school year is upon us. Good….Lord….help me.  Three kids in school, soccer, ballet, music lessons, keeping up with the house, working part time, cheering on the husband who is deep in the woods of his dissertation, and trying  to catch my breath here and there.  I think I might as well paint our mini van yellow and place a taxi sign on top because that’s about all I’m good for right now. (“Can I get an AMEN?”) The bliss of summer days are long gone and  I have returned to my familiar frantic pace.

(Insert Sigh here) And then I came across this piece that I wrote last spring….and GOD reminded me (through my own story) of what HE did last year when I stepped back from my schedule and let Him pen the agenda. LOOK WHAT GOD DID!

A year ago, October I was at an event to listen to one of my favorite speakers. Dang.  You know those times where you feel like a pastor or teacher is talking directly TO YOU? Yep. Me too.  I won’t forget it. The topic was simplifying life…making room for “interruptions.” I was convicted from the start.

You see, once again, my pace was too frantic. I am a master of filling the hours of my day-aren’t you?

That night, God seemed to be asking me to STEP BACK.  Step back from various activities, leadership positions, and even my master’s degree pursuit and slow my pace. Instead of creating a to-do list and schedule for the day and hurriedly asking God to sign off on it each morning, the challenge was to start with a blank slate and engage in the adventure of letting God orchestrate my days.

Reluctantly, January 1st (yes it took months to obey),  I finally accepted the challenge. I said “no” and “sorry, I can’t” until I was blue in the face.  At first I was just plain sad to have to back out of many “good” things. What had I done?

Little did I know that I had just embarked on the most amazing chapter in all my years of following Jesus.

I learned from my dad to start the day praying: “What do you have for me today, Lord?” Sometimes the day’s agenda unfolded in the ordinary: play tea party with my daughter, do laundry, make dinner, kiss my husband, or help the older boys with homework. God’s challenge to me was to be fully present.

Other days, the author’s agenda surprised me. (BIG TIME!) During these few months TWO of my friends began to approach me with questions about God. Uh…it was messy and I certainly didn’t have all the answers, but it was God revealing Himself to them. These are folks I have prayed to know Jesus for a long time.    I was FLOORED! Let the record be straight: this doesn’t happen in my normal life. I wouldn’t have had the time for it!  Conversations could go long and I wouldn’t have to rush off to my next event. I was free to answer my phone when  a friend called and needed a safe place to explore spiritual issues. We tripped over ourselves searching for truth.  God began to transform the lives of my beloved friends and for some reason, He allowed me to be in the room and watch.  (#it.doesnot.get.any.better. )

This same semester a group of “moms who pray” began organically gathering at the public school where my kids attend. Women came together, prayed, and watched God work in our lives and among our kids. Community was formed. It was incredibly miraculous, and beautiful, and incredibly God. Had I not stepped back from other things, I would’ve missed out on being a part of what God did here.

The author also penned many opportunities to open the doors of our home. Having an open schedule allowed for spontaneous, “sure! Come on over”(s). Many precious ones filled the chairs around our family dinner table. We laughed, we cried, we learned. We broke bread together.

God ‘s agenda also included some really hard days. Sitting with friends in crises when deaths, illnesses, and broken marriages unexpectedly became part of their story. Heartache. God gave me the gift of being AVAILABLE.  Conversations went longer, playdates lingered,  naptimes sometimes got skipped, last minute dinners were thrown together, but it felt like the KINGDOM. My way=busy, God’s way=meaningful, purposeful, abundant LIFE.

My calendar was no longer filled with programs and routines that were beginning to suck the life out of me, and my perspective shifted to seeing what God authored for my days. And really, friends, it had nothing to do with me.  I just functioned at a slower pace to where I could SEE GOD at work around me.

I don’t know what your day planner looks like-what responsibilities plague you in the nights… As women there is always more to be done…ALWAYS.

But I’d love to challenge you, challenge ME, again… to take a deep breath.

Say “no” to what you sense you need to say no to.

Slow down.

Step back.

Invite God to be the author of your day…today. The greatest adventure may be just ahead.

Alyssa