He Remembers That We Are Dust; Do We?

There are times you feel on top of the world,

and then the rest of the time you are just somewhere inside that pile of pumpkins

where there are about three moldy ones that really need to be taken out to the pigs.

 And every once in a while, you remember the Psalmist's prayer,

"Oh, that I had wings of a dove,

 for then would I wander far off and remain in the wilderness."

 You really would like to fly away when Saturday morning comes, complete with its duties of vacuuming, cleaning, scrubbing, cleaning at least some of the refrigerator, trimming plants, sorting winter gear in two closets, and last but not least--dusting.

 It's true the dust does pile up around here, especially with Crystal gone, who usually does the dusting. 

And it's a good thing you can't see the dust on the office desk in front of me.

(Honestly, I'll try to dust as soon as I'm done. Even while I'm uploading pictures, I often am busy sorting receipts, filing papers, opening mail, checking lessons or running around supervising.)

And the dust reminds me of how this verse spoke to me a few days ago,

"For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust."

 God made us from dust, and to dust we will return, and in between, we are all just

a poor little pile of dust, despite how intricately God has made us.

 It doesn't take much, just a flick, and the dust is gone. 

And doesn't God know, that it doesn't take much, just a flick,

and the dusty frame of our humanity is in pieces with things that others say and do,

or that we say and do, 

mistakes we make or physical frailties or accidents or spills or falls or upsets of one sort or another.

He remembers.

Do we?

 Do we remember that while it is good to maintain order and neatness in our home, 

and while it is good to mop the floor and vacuum and sweep and dust and scrub regularly,

we also have a spirit that needs to be maintained?

In a large family, there are always meals to cook, and floors to clean and rooms to straighten,

schoolwork to keep up with, clothes to wash and hang and put away, 

and cornmeal muffins to bake.

 But what about a little bit of lovin'--

not just the rituals at bedtime and when Daddy leaves for work in the morning,

but the spontaneous moments just every once in a while?

What about taking a few moments to join the little ones in the making of an autumn puzzle--

just for a little break?

 Who said it was a sin to take time to put a few more puzzle pieces in?

 He remembers that we are dust--and that for every puzzle we make, there is always a piece missing.

And He still looks after us, the people with all the missing pieces,

and tends and nourishes us and guards us and loves us. 

And so--

do we remember, too, that we are just dust, 

and to take time to breathe,

to love,

to experience the joy of the moment,

and to take time to rest and nourish our spirits?

Sometimes You Need to Let the Sun Shine In!

There are times when the best thing you can do for yourself

is to take a moment away from your daily duties, and just go to a sunny window

and let the sunshine pour into your heart.

 Sometimes if you are feeling low, you need to just pour yourself a cup of tea,

and sit down beside a beautiful flower,

 as much as beside your Bible.

 There are times when you are in the middle of your daily duties,

and suddenly you are in the middle of a bunch of pain that belongs to the past. 

And it is suddenly too heavy for you.

You know you need to go lay it at the feet of Christ.

You bow your head, but it's too heavy for you. So you get up and go to your room and close the door.

And everything inside you is wanting to fall on your face and cry out to God--

But you remember how far that gets you. 

How often hasn't the icy grip of the devil's thumb made the weight only heavier as you

bow in your heartache and tears spill over?

Somehow things just seem to turn around for you far more quickly when you just step over to your sunny window and pause in the warmth of the sunshine, 

and wait in the warm, silent presence of God,

and then lift up your head and look for the birds.

 Something seems to happen when you let the sun shine in. 

Because there are always going to be those moldy pumpkins that the boys carved faces in, and then left on their dresser till they almost melted into a puddle. 

And then pieces of the rotten pumpkin got left on your floor under the ironing board,

and yellow stains are on your carpet.

 How many times have messes been left on your floor or in your car or in your back yard or at your back door that 

did not belong to you?

Muddy boot prints that did not belong to you.

Slimy old banana skins that certainly did not belong to you.

 And all those things that don't belong to you 

just somehow anyway leave you deep, deep down 

in the black pool of depression or discouragement.

 But there is always the possibility of joy.

 The same ice that was in the grip of the enemy

can make a beautiful pattern on the glass--especially when exposed to the sunshine.

 There will always be those days when toilets need fixing,

 and when you are on your hands and knees looking for the new little kitty's toilet,

that kitty that you tried to insist had to stay out of the house,

searching behind the freezer, behind the washer, and behind the dryer,

and trying to figure out where in the laundry room the stink is coming from.

 There are some things you can clean up and some things you just can't--

because they don't belong to you.

But you can always choose the possibility of joy.

You can choose to remain under the slimy dripping of Yellowstone National Park's Devil's Thumb,

or bloom in the sunshine.

It's you who choose about the guilt trips and the black holes.

                                        

Choose to linger a little longer in the sunshine,

and let the warmth of God's love quiet your spirit.

As a Sparrow Alone

It's nearly zero this cold, snowy morning on the prairie.

My hubby has turned on the furnace and fixed the wood stove as everyone is getting up and around.

I had wakened an hour and a half or two early, thinking and praying.

And I sit on the edge of the bed by the window with my Bible now to begin the day.

It's Psalm 102 today.

"I lie awake, and am like a sparrow alone..."

And yes, I had lain awake, and now I look out the window at the tree and the snow, and this is what I see.

How did God know?

How many times has God comforted me with the sight of a sparrow?
Like the time when I was about 20, and had been invited to travel to China with friends to share the gospel and Bibles.

I had been sitting in the attic of our big old farmhouse in PA, and was feeling afraid, after hearing about the Beijing massacre. 

But that day, I was reading about Christ saying how sparrows are sold for a little bit of nothing, and how much more He cares for us.

And just at that precise moment, a little brown sparrow landed on the windowsill of that attic.

How did God know? How did it happen at that precise moment as I was reading about a sparrow?

There it landed--right on the windowsill.

It took one look at that astonished girl sitting there and flew right on its way.

But I knew that God knew. 

And that He had sent the sparrow to let me know it was okay to go. 

That He would be with me. 

And He was.

And once again, on a snowy morning in Colorado, He sent sparrows to bring His Word to life. 

When I went back later, the birds were gone. 

It seemed they had been there just for me!

"He shall regard the prayer of the destitute," that Psalm had said,

and shall not despise their prayer."

"From heaven the Lord viewed the earth, to hear the groaning of the prisoner, and to release those appointed to death."

And just when we think our dreams and hopes are dead,

He brings something to life again. 

Just when we wonder if anything in our life is worthwhile, He reminds us that we are just a vessel in the hand of a Potter. He sees the pure heart's desire despite the imperfect ways we are,

just as we love our children for who they are, 

and admire their work and hang it on the frig to let them know they are valued, 

and so is their work, even though it isn't without mistake yet.

We may feel like a sparrow alone, but God knows even when the single lonely sparrow falls to the ground.

 

 He is there to pick it up, to fluff its feathers so that once again

it can  sit on its branch in the frosty morning

and sing.

Just When You Think You Have Life By the Tail

About the time you think you have life by the tail...

 it runs away with you!

 Just when you are enjoying ultra beautiful and warm weather, 

the next storm blows in, sinking the temperature twelve degrees in ten minutes,

and almost sixty degrees in a few hours.

 At least that is what happens here in Colorado, like it did Monday.

Sometimes, if you are watching the signs or the forecasts, you know storms are coming. 

Then you can reschedule morning classes for afternoon and head out to repair the snow fence, move more wheelbarrow loads of topsoil from the pile by the corner of the house, move pumpkins indoors, batten down tarps over hay, clean up the yard, bring in wood and kindling, unload Sunday's stuff from the vehicle.

By evening or the next morning, over the way, you see the neighbor's horses with coats on.

 So the storm hits, and your husband meets you on the edge of town where you are dropping a daughter at a house cleaning job

to take your little girl the rest of the way on bad roads in his four-wheel-drive truck to the hand and wrist doctor for a final X-ray.

So the storm hits, and drives you out of your comfort zone.

 And that is when you are grateful for the comfort of hooded coats, mittens, and boots and scarves.

You linger a little longer in the warm grocery store, peaceful compared to the bitter and snowy cold outdoors, and you notice the long line at Starbucks.

We all need something to comfort us when the storm hits. Will it just be coffee, or will it be

our Refuge, our Rock, 

and our Shelter from the storm?

Will it be just fresh doughnuts, made during the cold evenings when the temperature is near zero,

 or will it be savoring the promises of a faithful God?

As my favorite blogger, Ann Voskamp says,

"Anybody can be a cynic. Cynicism is laziness in every way. 

The real heroes are the ones who never stop looking for the possibility of joy.

They are the ones who feel again all the ways He loves.

Even during the storms.