Ten Thousand Reasons

This past two Sundays, I attended two different churches.  In both services, a week apart, worship included Matt Redman's beautiful worship song Ten Thousand Reasons.  You may know it more by the words, "Bless the LORD, O my soul..."

When we worship the LORD, something happens.  Worship ALWAYS has a residual effect in our lives.  Worship changes us.  It recalibrates our hearts to Him.  I should always be conscious that I am a little bit different as I leave church, because of worshiping God Almighty.  We see life differently;  we live life differently.

Worship becomes the soundtrack of my life.  It carries over into the rest of my week -- in how I treat those around me, indeed, I see them through His eyes.  In what I say, filtered through His love and grace.  In how I do my job, because ALL I do is a form of worship to God.

I have been mindful these past two weeks of these truths, because the soundtrack of these days has been that song.  I have found myself singing it as I move about my day, whatever I am doing, whether rocking my brand new grand baby, driving my car to an appointment, seeking wisdom in my work and doing it for God with all my heart and soul and mind and strength.

"...Worship His holy name."

My soundtrack. In all things.  In all ways.  Among all people.
For His Glory.  Always.  Only.

http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=DXDGE_lRI0E&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DDXDGE_lRI0E

And That Is Enough

Three years ago on our most recent move, we searched for a house for several months.  Finally, we found one that we liked.  It had been on the market for more than a year.  It would require some work to update, but the space was good and location very convenient.

We came into town to make an offer.  Our realtor called to make a final appointment.  "Oh, sorry," she was told.  "The sellers decided to take the house off the market last night."  Despite our realtor 's pleas, the sellers would not reconsider.  We had prayed for guidance.  And although we were a bit confused, that door was obviously closed.  We ended up with another place to live a few miles away in a neighboring town.

Today as I was running through snow-clogged streets, I ran past that other house.  "We may never know why we didn't get that house," I thought.  And further down the block, "But we know God had a good reason.  And that is enough."

God's plans have no detours.  There are no glitches in His designs.  It is not just that there is a reason, but that GOD had purpose in it.  I don't have to know that purpose, but just to know that He has reasons deeper than I can comprehend.

And that is always enough.


But I trust in You, O LORD,
I say,
        "You are my God."
My times are in Your hands."

                         Psalm 31. 14-15

Nothing More Can Be Done

I encountered three different situations in this past week when people were told, "Nothing more can be done."

One friend  of mine was struggling to see, having been told that there was nothing more that could be done about her failing eyesight. 

One young woman was fighting for her life, the doctors having done all they could to stem a virulent infection.

One precious grandmother was fading slowly into the next life, nothing more that could be done for her;   her husband distraught, not leaving her side for two weeks, day and night.

Until...

Because the presence of God changes everything.  It is that point of "nothing can be done" that God does His mightiest work.  It is in those times that we can most readily see His hand and trust His unfailing love.

There is nothing more that can be done...but God...

The story is not over.

My friend visited yet another doctor who suspected early cataracts, something none of the other doctors even considered at her age. With surgery on just one eye completed, she is seeing clearer than she could have imagined.

Buoyed up by the prayers of family, friends, and strangers,  the very ill young woman began a slow and unexpected improvement when a solitary doctor thought to tweak a procedure.  She has gone from the edge of life and back again, not yet out of the woods, but God's presence is thick in that room.

In the hospice room, a woman began to sing a hymn by her old mother's side: "When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing there will be..."   "That's funny," her father interrupted, "your mother was singing that very song in the middle of the night."  Everyone was skeptical if that actually occurred, but that day for the first time in months, the man was at peace.  And early the next  morning, his wife crossed over from one life to the next.

We can never know what God will do.   But we can be assured that He is working still.  Sometimes we can see Him parting the Red Sea, sometimes things deeper than we can know.

But the story is never over.

That is what eternity is for, His purposes beyond measure.

...we look not to the things that are seen,
but to the things that are unseen,
for the things that are seen are transient,
but the things that are unseen are eternal.

                          2 Corinthians 4.18

And now, LORD,
          for what do I wait?
My hope is in You.

                           Psalm 39.7

A Midwinter Night's Soup

There are winter days in the cold north that chill to the bone.  Here, we learn to dress in layers, hoping to keep out the wind on a bitter commute, at times the air so cold, it appears to take the oxygen right out of one's lungs.  This morning we awoke to four inches of fresh snow.  We are deep into soup weather.

A few days ago, I was just beginning to put together a pot of White Chili when my schedule suddenly tightened.  Instead of cooking it on the stovetop, as I usually do, out of necessity I had to pull out the slow cooker, drop in the ingredients, and leave.   There was no time to prepare as usual, there were no skinless, boneless chicken breasts in the freezer, and no time to go to the store.  I found one lone package of boneless skinless chicken thighs in the back of the freezer, dropped the frozen clump into the soup mixture, planning to chop the chicken later.  I figured that I was well on my way to yet another culinary misadventure.

And so, the soup simmered all day, while I was elsewhere.  By suppertime, the chicken thighs were cooked so thoroughly, they self- shredded upon stirring the soup.  I served the soup with tortilla chips, shredded mozzarella to sprinkle on top, and apologies.

But God redeemed my glitches.

I have made this soup for 23 years, one of our family favorites.  And this recipe that I thought I had messed up turned out to be the best batch yet.

There is nothing like hot chicken soup to warm your insides.  And to complement it, I would like to suggest a book to warm your heart.  I have lost count how many times I have read and re-read  The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom.  It is the true account of an elderly Dutch watchmaker and how God uses the most unlikely of heroes in incredible ways.  It will become one of your favorites.

"I know that the experiences of our lives, when we let God use them, become the mysterious and perfect preparation for the work He will give us to do."    (Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place)

A good soup and a great book.  Enjoy.

White Chili
1 1/2 to 2 pounds boneless skinless chicken thighs
6 cups chicken stock
1 tablespoon chicken bouillon powder
3 cans Great Northern white beans, drained and rinsed
2 medium onions, chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
2  4-ounce cans chopped mild green chilies
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 1/2 teaspoon dried crumbled oregano
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

Add all ingredients to the slow cooker.  (Chopped onions can be sauteed first in 1 tablespoon olive oil, if preferred.)  My chicken was even completely frozen when I put the ingredients together.  Cook on high setting 4-5 hours, or low setting for 8 or more.  Makes enough for 6-8 servings.

Please note that this soup is perfect for busy working families.  You can even put all the ingredients together the night before, store the slow cooker container in the fridge overnight, pop it in the slow cooker before you leave, let it cook slow all day, and supper is ready when you get home.

You Can't Just Sit There

I pointed the little computer arrow over the button that said "register."  And I hesitated, fully knowing the commitment that single click would mean.  My finger hovered for a minute or two.  "Do I really want to do this?  Again?"

My mind raced back, now nearly ten years ago, when I clicked that marathon registration button for the first time, completely naive about what I was getting into.  It was early August 2003.  I had just turned 50.  We were making a major move with our family to Memphis, a place where I didn't know a soul.  I felt challenged to do something different to celebrate these new beginnings.  The week before, I had just run the longest distance I had ever attempted in my two years of running, eight miles with my sister in law who was training for the Chicago marathon. Eight miles?  "Oh, if I can run eight miles, I can surely do a marathon," I surmised, totally clueless as to what 26.2 miles meant.

Stepping rather boldly outside my box, I signed up for the Chicago marathon which was taking place in eight short weeks, thinking that I was registering for a one-time event and be done with it.  Little did I know where that adventure would take me. I am still feeling its effects.

It encompassed far more than training for a race.  God used it powerfully to stretch me, to develop new relationships I would not have had, to spur me on in my writing, and to deepen my relationship with Him. No, running did not "change my life," as many have claimed.  Running is not my salvation.  But God has used it in my life to encourage me to attempt things a little bigger than what I thought I could do.

When I finished that first marathon, I checked it off a mental list.  Been there, done that.  When I completed my second, I asked my friend Becky to stop me from signing up for another.  And yesterday afternoon, now seven marathons later, as my finger hesitated over the registration button, I knew I needed to come full circle.  I ran Chicago  in 2003.  I need to run it in 2013, a milestone of sorts for where it has taken me.  I have no idea what will happen in these next eight months of training, indeed my knees might give out tomorrow.  But I do know that God will redeem this experience as He always has.  

In the first two hours of registration yesterday, I tried a couple of times to access the website. "Should I do it?  God, stop me if I shouldn't," I prayed.   "Unavailable," the screen read. "Maybe that's a sign that you shouldn't," scoffed the complacent chicken in me.  But then suddenly, one more click, and there appeared the application form.  I filled it out and registered.  A few hours later, I found out that almost immediately after registration began at noon, the computer registration site crashed from an overload.  Very few entrants were able to register at all.  But strangely enough at 2.30 in the afternoon, despite my trepidations and the apparently inoperable website, my application was accepted and confirmed.  Guess I'm committed.

Our grandchildren will not care that their crazy gramma runs at all.  But perhaps it will help them to see how to live unafraid. You can't just sit there. 

Join me on my journey.  Let's see what God will do with it. 

...and let us run with perseverance
       the race that is set before us...

                         Hebrews 12.1