What I Want for Christmas – From You!

Do you know what I want for Christmas? From my family and friends? Both social media and personal?

For you to give grace.

Not to me, but to others.

What is grace, you may ask? Well, it’s a word that by definition can mean many things; but in this case it means undeserved favor. Mercy. Goodwill. Charity. Kindness. Love.

Shouldn’t we do this all year long? Yes, definitely. But giving grace is needed especially at this time of the year. Yes, tis the season and all, but this time of year it is desperately needed because the holiday comes with so much stress of its own. We all want a memorable celebration. One that will be recalled for years to come. Some people long for the feelings of Christmases past. Loneliness seems to magnify itself this time of year as well. But so many times it is full of such tension and drama that those memories become painful and Christmas becomes a dreaded holiday for so many. This has happened to me. I so wanted a special Christmas for my family, that I busted myself to death trying to have the “perfect” Christmas. Gift buying, parties, baking, decorating, church pageants, choir rehearsal, and the dreaded and unending wrapping night. (That is wrapping with a “W”, not putting on Jay Z or Kanye all night; although they might have been more enjoyable.) On Christmas Eve, after the church service, I would literally stay up all night by myself to wrap every little stocking stuffer, have every present laid out perfect, have Christmas breakfast ready to be put in the oven, and Christmas dinner started, etc. (One year I actually made each person’s favorite foods for Christmas dinner – whew! They will tell you that’s one of their favorite Christmas memories.) I worked myself to death and then when the children woke up, this sleep-deprived mama would – with her well-rested husband – read the Christmas story out of Luke chapter 2 and proceed to let the kids run into the living room to find their treasures. Was it worth it? Well, you’ll have to ask my adult children now. But, to see the glow and excitement on their faces was a joy to me and I’m sure it made many fond memories. Then every year around September – even August when school started back, I noticed an anxiousness in me about the impending holiday season. I dreaded it for sure. It wasn’t a delight anymore. It meant hard work and drudgery just to make it through the season without having a nervous breakdown. I wanted to celebrate the birth of Christ and enjoy the season. But I didn’t. I couldn’t wait for it to be over with. Somewhere along the way, I got caught up in the mania and forgot to pause and remember – remember the One who this celebration is really about. As the years went by and the kids got older, I decided to make things simpler. I came up with a “disposable” Christmas tree. Having a real tree, we put on dollar store lights, made every ornament, strung popcorn and cranberries for garland and then after Christmas (which usually means mid-January) we would take the still intact tree and throw it over our deck onto our burn pile in the backyard, to be incinerated – lights and all. Of course if there were special ornaments we made, we would save those, but everything else went up in flames weeks later when the tree was all dried out. It was pretty awesome. The kids loved it. And it saved me getting all the Christmas decorations out and packing them back up afterward! We did this disposable tree for a few years, but the burning of the tree itself remained a tradition for years. (Of course, with fire department approval, fire retardant suits on and water hose in hand. Of course.) Gradually, I lightened up the perfection expectation of Christmas and decided on a different type of Christmas. A “mostly good” one, with less gifts and more focusing on the true meaning. And as most of my children moved away and have their own traditions, I truly do look forward to the celebration and learned a new thing to give: grace.

I’m still learning to give this gift. Sometimes it’s hard. But that is exactly the way we learn how to give it. By practicing it. When we all get together, with extended family as well, grace is needed. When conversations turn dramatic and emotions run high – we need to give grace (and a soft answer also helps.) When adult children argue and a mama’s heart is broken – I give grace. When “someone close” to me needs quiet and leaves us to retreat to their room to have some peace – I give grace. When other family members have differing beliefs and views – I give grace. I’m sure I’ll be practicing this grace-giving technique this year as well. Every family needs to practice this gift.

So when your grandmother doesn’t filter her words before speaking – give grace.

When your nephew doesn’t act grateful for the present you searched hard for – give grace.

When that aunt won’t stop giving her own political opinions, which are right of course – give grace.

When that child has one volume – and it is LOUD – give grace.

When you receive yet another pair of slippers – give grace.

When the turkey is too dry to eat – put lots of gravy on it and – give grace.

When your sister makes that recipe that she thinks is the best, try it anyway, then – give grace.

Of course there are more serious issues within families that call for forgiveness and hard grace. And Christmastime is too short to solve all family problems. There may be those folks that you will be with that you really do not want to see. Those complicated matters will still be there tomorrow, but for today – give grace.

We could all use a dose of grace ourselves – so be generous with giving it away. In fact, we have all received the most immeasurable amount of grace possible when we didn’t even deserve it, God’s own son. How can we not also give away what He has so freely given us? After all, He is Emmanuel – God with us. Grace in the flesh. And by giving it away – even to the most undeserving of all, we may have what the angels proclaimed on that holy night and what they knew this world so desperately needs – Peace on earth, good will to men.

That’s what I want from each of you for Christmas. Thank you in advance for this precious gift. I will treasure it always, especially if you tell me your stories of doing it.

Have a Merry, grace-filled Christmas!

Running My Race with My Ragamuffin Cleaner

Well it’s been quite a while since I wrote on my blog. I’m kind of changing it and updating it a bit to reflect the current path of the race called “my life.” I hope you are encouraged and challenged through the words that the Pen Master gives me. (Shout-out to my little sis, Michele, for that term!) What better week to begin again than with this week serving with my church’s mission project called Love Atlanta. This was a week that my church partnered with several charitable organizations to “love Atlanta.” There were tons of opportunities to clean, paint, sort books, garden, feed, love on, work with kids, listen and be a friend to the homeless, brokenhearted, needy and oppressed. My husband and I chose three very different projects. I will be blogging about each one in the coming days and how the Lord showed me something special in all of them.

Cleaning a homeless shelter for young adults was the first project we did. There were about six of us working in this shelter. It was not the most glamorous work, but it was a needed task to be done. We went into their living quarters and swept, mopped, dusted, vacuumed and cleaned their bathrooms. There were about 10 rooms we cleaned plus two living/recreational areas. I mainly worked on cleaning the bathrooms. God humbled me years ago and told me, if all he wanted me to do was clean toilets, then I should do it to the best of my ability and for his glory. So I did this week. Now granted, it’s not my favorite cleaning job… (As if any cleaning is?); but I am pretty good at getting a toilet spotless and shiny. I have a family with 3 boys and a husband, so I am picky about toilets being cleaned—and the seats being put down as well! So I cleaned for the good of the homeless young adults, and for the glory of God. I scrubbed the showers as well. Let me just tell you something: mildew comes straight from the devil himself! I do not know what the purpose of that organism is. I’m sure there is one—decomposition or something—but it does not belong on the inside of a home. I scrubbed with a disinfectant and a little scrubby pad I had—to no avail. These mildew stains had been there awhile. The longer they had been there, the larger they spread and the harder it was to clean them. So I had to get the big guns out… a spray bottle with bleach. It certainly worked better, but not like I would have liked. There were still stains left behind, probably permanent, that would need to be painted or grouted over. We worked for three straight hours and I tried to get all the toilets and showers clean, (other workers did the sinks, mirrors and floors) but they weren’t as white and shiny as I would have preferred. I wanted the kids to come to their rooms and be blown away by how clean and shiny everything was. Just to be clear, we made a HUGE difference, but I wanted to do so much more. But alas, we had to come to a stopping point because of time.

There is a lesson to be learned from this. Maybe a few different ones. We come to the Father and he washes us and bleaches us totally clean—no doubt about that at all. But being in the world we live in, with the skin called our flesh, we get stains on us from sin—the mildew of our lives. (I told you where it came from!) The longer we let it go unattended, the more it can grow and leave permanent marks on us. Now, I know that Jesus’ blood takes away our sin; he did that way before we ever even committed the first one. But the consequences can definitely leave us with marks, scars or even a limp as we run our race toward The Prize. We should attend to each mildew stain as soon as we can. Not by cleaning it up by ourselves, as I have tried so often to do; but by showing God our dirt, (he sees it already) and asking him to “bleach” us clean with his blood. The longer we wait, the more ashamed we are to show him. Have you ever been ashamed to have a visitor see your house or especially your bathroom because it hasn’t been cleaned recently? I can think of a few times myself. But the reality is, our God is one of those visitors, who isn’t really a “visitor.” He’s family. He’s our Father. And he doesn’t care how dirty we are. He’s still willing to fellowship with us and even clean us up, if we allow Him. If we wait a while, although he still makes us as beautiful and clean as new, WE see the stains left behind. Sometimes they’re left on those we love too. Oh, those are hard to look at, to be sure. We need to seek forgiveness from them and then for ourselves as well. But the stains left behind, just might be a reminder to not go there again. The scars we are left with or the limp we walk with, might be a token left behind of the forgiveness we’ve received, the pain he has healed, or a heart he has broken in order to be put back together by the real Healer. The true Cleaner of our lives.

I currently run my race with a limp. I have battle scars and stains. It’s okay. They serve me well and I am ever so grateful I can still be used by Jesus for the purpose which he has called me. And fortunately, he is still working on me. No time limit on his scrubbing. It’s not very pleasant at times, but he does it oh so gently, with so much love and grace. After all, he is my Abba and I’m his ragamuffin daughter, who he has begun a good work in—and rest assured he will complete me—in his time.

Thank you my Abba, for cleaning me white as snow. And even though I am left with some scars, stains, and even limps from my own doing, you are able to use those in your greater purpose for me, for others and even for your splendor. Only you can do that. Give me strength to carry-on my race with endurance, fixing my eyes upon you, my Prize, the Author and Finisher of my faith. Oh how I long to see you at the finish line!

Love, Your ragamuffin runner.

Fifteen Minutes From The Edge

I have something to share. I may be taking a chance on someone not wanting to be around me anymore, or much less let me lead a bible study. But I have to be honest. And I have to not care about the approval of others. So here goes....

Sometimes I feel like I'm fifteen minutes away from insanity. Fifteen minutes from when I would be considered totally crazy. I am fifteen minutes from the edge of the waterfall that I feel like I'm going over. Maybe not even that long. I am just a few minutes from ‘my cheese sliding off my cracker,’ as one of my favorite authors puts it. I desperately am hanging on by a thread most of the time. Yes, I am one of those really needy people. I constantly feel I’m just about to lose it: my mind, my sanity, and my faculties. I’m just on the edge of, what is that reality show, ‘Snapped?’ Maybe not murdering anyone like that show or anything, but maybe the death of my soul. I’m just a few minutes from the tree branch I’m hanging onto from snapping and me falling into the abyss.

What makes me that way? Why do I feel this way so often? And more important, what keeps it from happening?

Well I guess it’s that I am just a ragamuffin. I’m a barefoot little orphan-feeling girl with a dirty face, dressed in raggedy clothes, who is looking for her Abba to claim her. A little child who’s messed up over and over again and feels that she can’t go home. She tries so hard in her own strength and just fails again and again. She knows who her daddy is and knows he will find her. She knows she can climb up in his loving lap and he will lovingly clean her up again, as he always does. But she was so close to not going back to him. She was so close to lying in the mud with the pigs and giving up and being trampled down by the bullies that run over her so often. See--she is just 15 minutes away from losing it.

I would like to be victorious, like so many Christians are. Or at least appear they are. I want to claim "Victory in Jesus,” when the truth is sometimes, I don’t feel victorious at all. Oh, I want everyone to think I’m so strong in the Lord and confess all the time that, "I trust God will work everything out." I try to appear as that stable Christian because I want everyone to have nice thoughts of me. (Needing that approval again.) But the truth is, I’m not. I am desperate for my Jesus. He is the very air I breathe. Every hour I need Him. Every moment of everyday. I am so needy that I can’t even make it in those 15 minutes from insanity. I know that. He knows that. He comes and rescues me usually as the fifteen minutes is running out. He wants me to fall over the edge of the waterfall I’m swimming fervently away from. He wants me to just let go because his righteous right hand, a very large one indeed, is at the bottom of the waterfall to catch me. He’s not going to let me fall into the maelstrom of my desperation below.

He keeps me sane because for some odd reason that I can’t figure out He loves me. He loves loves loves me. As I am. Just as I am, and not as I should be. And even more insane is that He wants me; to use me to show others His love. Me--the desperate little ragamuffin girl, who forgets so often whose child she is. The one He pursues with his infinite, unfailing love to remind her she belongs to Him and He will not ever, ever leave her or disown her.

A few days ago I posted this verse: “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10 NIV) I don’t know why I posted it except that it was a verse I love and wanted to share it. And then I found myself asking God to hold me in his hand last night… to catch me because I felt like I was falling over the edge and about to lose my sanity. I forgot that I had posted this particular verse until I prayed last night. He brought it to my mind that I had read it a few days back and had prayed it. I love it when He does that. He caught me again in the nick of time from my 15 minutes till madness.

One more thing: I broke down in church yesterday. Really sobbed before the Lord. A few noticed, most didn't, as I didn't want anyone to see me. I don’t want anyone to be burdened with my excessive neediness (again), so I left fairly quickly. Thank you to those who did notice and hugged me and patted me on my shoulder. To those who didn't notice, that’s okay, it’s not all about me, I know that. Anyway, yesterday I was 15 minutes from the edge… I was despondent. And I looked up the definition of the word ‘despondent’ and it’s synonyms. I found the word ‘woebegone.’ I had never heard that word before. I thought it was an odd word because it is a compound word of 3 words. Woe be gone. I found it ironic that a word that says that means the opposite. It means bleak, grief-stricken, down-trodden, etc. I posted it on my Facebook and then it became my prayer. Lord please let the woe be gone. And then, even a declaration to the enemy: "Woe be gone! In Jesus' Name." The Lord was there of course, again with his gracious, righteous right hand, catching me in those few minutes from the edge. This needy ragamuffin girl was caught once again in her loving Abba’s arms.

Thank you my sweet Jesus. Make me always desperate for you, especially when I'm fifteen minutes from the edge. I love you my Abba.

Your Ragamuffin Girl

The Loving Potter and His Ragamuffin Clay

I wrote this a while back and wanted to post it again because of the sermon I heard at church last week. Hope it speaks to you as the Lord spoke it to me.

I had my 17 month old granddaughter for a few days this week. We had such fun! Among the things we did was cook homemade play dough. She poured in the water and flour and helped stir it. After it cooled, we kneaded it on the table and divided it up into 4 parts to color it with food coloring. It's a good idea to wear gloves while doing this, but I didn't have any, so my hands got stained multicolored from squishing the dye in. I bore the marks of the play dough all over my hands and fingers! Once each part was completely blended with color, we began to make our shapes. She didn't know what to do with hers. She would touch it with only one finger at a time. I had to take her hands and get them into the dough and show her how to squish it and smash it flat. She loved it! Then we got the cookie cutters out and started cutting out shapes. I never could sculpt well with play dough or even clay in art class, years ago. My creations always came out looking something like 'Mr. Bill'. Alas, I am not a sculptor or potter.

While attempting a masterpiece with my granddaughter, I began to think of the Master Potter and His clay. Gradually, with care, he shapes the mass that he's created. You. Me. I have heard that an artist can see his masterpiece in a lump of clay, or stone. He just removes or chisels away anything that is not his creation. The finished piece is in there to begin with. The Sculptor simply reveals his beautiful handiwork ever-so-gently, removing any unnecessary part. The Potter continues to painstakingly shape and remove (and sometimes smash?) day after day because he loves his artwork. And he doesn't do it with one finger. His hands are enmeshed in our formless, undefined messiness. And he has our marks on his body to prove it. Our 'stains' are on his hands and his fingerprints are all over us. Each one of his masterpieces is unique. No cookie cutter shapes for this Master Artist. No reproductions or imitations. Each piece is exactly as he planned it and has a specific purpose; he just reveals it step by step. We have to go through the fire sometimes to make us stronger. It's painful, but we come out shining in the end. We are beautiful because the Master Potter made us. And he doesn't make junk.

My Dear Potter, thank you for removing the unnecessary material from your Ragamuffin art piece of me. Even though I cannot see your finished work yet, I trust that you do. I believe you are revealing to my heart a specific purpose for my life. You know I want to love you and love people. Especially broken, hurting people. I believe you have enmeshed this within my soul. It is what I long to do each day. It is my calling. Help me to do it well, for your glory. Thank you for getting into the messiness of my life and somehow creating beauty out of it. I know I have left many a stain on you, my Master Artist. But I am so grateful you have left your fingerprints on me. Help me to get into the messy lives of your other works of art. And maybe have some of your fingerprints rub off on them, so that their true beauty will be revealed as the beautiful masterpiece that you intended.

I'm in your hands, my loving Potter,
Your Ragamuffin Girl.

Scripture Reference: Jeremiah 18:6

A Ragamuffin's Peace Giver

I have had quite a bit of anxiety and 'overwhelmedness' lately. Hence, the reason I haven't blogged in a while. The 'urgent' has been stealing my time away from the 'important'. This happens a lot to me. I feel so many things in my life are urgent. I sometimes live in the 'urgent mode'. Rush to finish this, rush to pay that, rush to go here, rush to go there.... rush, rush, rush! I'm being pulled in a million directions and spread so thin that there isn't enough of me to have any substance left. The anxiety and stress that I feel, leave me with feelings of inadequacy, guilt and hopelessness. What can I do to get out of this 'sense of urgency mode' and find some peace of mind and rest?

The answer is so simplistic, yet evades me so easily: Prayer and Priorities. Bible and Boundaries. Meditation and Moderation. It all goes back to dependence on the Peace Giver, himself. Going to Jesus and asking for guidance with my priorities. What does he want me to accomplish this day? What does he want me to say "no" to today? Oh... there's a dirty word: No. But Jesus practiced it when he was doing his earthly ministry. He had boundaries. He made time for prayer and quiet meditation and sought his Father's will continuously. He was not so caught up in the urgency of the needs of the people, that he did not do the important tasks the Father had given him to do. Even in regards to very close friends that he loved. He was given news that a dear friend Lazarus, whom he loved, the Bible says, was very sick and near death. Yet, he stayed where he was for two more days. He didn't drop everything and rush to his bedside to heal him. God had bigger plans. Lazarus died and was buried. His sisters must have thought Jesus had abandoned them. But the bigger plan was revealed when Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead and proclaimed, "I am the Resurrection and Life." Jesus prayed at the end of his short life of 33, "I have finished the work you gave me to do." Was everyone healed? No. Was everyone saved? No. But he had finished the work that God had given him to do. He had peace with that. He didn't have regrets about what he didn't get to do. He trusted the Father had bigger plans and rested in that fact, although anguished about the cross that was to come.

I guess I need to seek the Lord's will for the priorities of my life each day. Looking back on the urgency-mode and anxiety attacks I have had this past week, I tried to figure out what I could have done to prevent them. I needed a plan. I needed to evaluate my priorities. I needed quiet meditation before God to seek his will and receive strength from him. I needed to not be pulled into the bondage of the urgency that I felt when everyone was pulling me in every direction. I needed quiet dependence on the Lord. He wants me to come to him and be dependent on him. I believe that self sufficiency is one of the worst sins I can commit. Trying to do everything in my own strength is saying to God, "I don't need you, God. I can do it on my own." Being independent is how the world says we need to be. But Jesus said, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." What a wonderful promise. So simple and yet so powerful.

Oh my Lord, I thank you for your word. It is light and life to me. I praise you for revealing my need to depend on you. Forgive me for being independent and thinking I can do it on my own, in my own strength. I know what happens then: I am pulled by anything and everything that calls out to me. Help me to know, that you have set the purpose and priorities in my life. I need to seek you to find what is really important compared to the urgency of the moment. You know me better than I know myself and you know what my boundaries are and what I am able to do. Please give me the wisdom to know that too. Help me daily to remember this: "Do not worry about anything, but pray and ask God for everything you need, always giving thanks. And God's peace, which is so great we cannot understand it, will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." And, "I leave you peace; my peace I give you. I do not give it to you as the world does. So don't let your hearts be troubled or afraid." Thank you, Lord for calming this anxious Ragamuffin's heart with your peace.

Thank you my Peace Giver,
Your Ragamuffin Girl.


Scripture References: Matt. 11:28 NIV, Philippians 4:6-7 NCV, John 14:27 NCV

The Path Maker and Love Note Giver

I saw another deer on my running trails again last night. She was a beauty, standing and staring at me down the darkened path. Both times I've been to my new running park, I have seen a deer. I usually go in the cool of the evening right before dusk, so maybe that's when they come out. Or maybe there are just an extra abundance of deer there and it is very common to see them. But I like to think of it as God's little 'love note' to me. He loves to surprise me with them from time to time. Just to show off his creation and let me know he's thinking of me. I take it very personally because after all, he is a personal God.

I love this park. It is so serene and peaceful by the lake and the trails are ideal for me to train for the 10k I'm doing this year. I would love to just sit and take in all the beauty there, like the full moon shining through the trees. But alas, I must keep going and run, so I will be fit for the big race. The trails are perfect for running. They are fairly straight, wide with soft dirt and some pine straw, and hardly any obstacles on them. I tried some other trails yesterday morning at another park someone told me about. They were not conducive to a runner whose name ironically means "grace". They were very narrow, hilly and filled with tree roots, sand and gravel. All not good for this runner's klutzy nature. I had to watch every step I took, determining I was sure-footed with each stride. I was so afraid I was going to fall. I prayed and sang as I ran and asked the Lord to keep me from falling and sustaining an injury. Fortunately he answered my prayers and I left after only 40 minutes, miraculously still intact. I told myself I would never run on those trails again!

Why did I want to try new trails, when I had already found the perfect running trails, and had even seen a deer on my very first visit? Maybe for adventure, or maybe I wanted to make sure I was using the very best ones. I had to compare. Whatever the reason, I learned my lesson; fortunately, not the hard way! And so last night I returned to the better trails and even received my little 'love note' from God, as if he was saying, "This is your path I've given you. Run the race here."

Why do I seem to sometimes want something better? Or make sure that I'm taking advantage of the very best there is to offer, only to find out it's not what I thought it would be? I need to take the path he's given me in this life. It doesn't always have to be the hardest one. He sometimes makes the path smooth and at times will give us love notes along the way, though not always. I was told there is a harder trail at this park. It is much longer and more difficult. I may have to take it sometime, but I know that it will eventually lead me back to the wider, less difficult path and to the peaceful serene lake, where the deer come to drink.

My dear Jesus, thank you for the love notes you give me on this path you have made and put me on. I've tried other paths at times and you've kept me from falling. Or when I have fallen, you have helped me up and put me back on the one you created for me. You are so faithful and give me the strength to keep going. And give me little surprises and the beauty of your creation and presence along the way! There may be some long and difficult paths ahead, but I won't worry about those now. I'm just going to do what you said and just take today's path, one sure-footed step at a time, singing along the way.

I love you my Path Maker and Love Note Giver,
Your Ragamuffin Girl.

To See Him More Clearly

I lost a contact lens last week. Some of you may have read about it on my facebook page. It was a gas perm lens, which is a hard lens that is not easily replaceable, like most disposable soft lenses are. And after searching all over the bathroom for it and even in the pipes just in case it went down the drain, I gave up the search. No lens found. I prayed and asked God to help me find it because I knew it would run up to $75.00 to replace it. I didn't find it, so I decided to try and order it online. I had the order pulled up and even put it in 'the shopping cart' ready to check out. All I had to do was to push a button to finish the transaction, but I waited for some reason. I thought, "can we afford this, right now?" And "which one did I lose anyway?" I think I had accidentally swapped the left and right, so I wasn't sure which one to order. So this week I've been wearing the one contact only or sometimes would wear a pair of my old soft lenses that I don't see well with at all. So I didn't have very good vision this week. I also have an almost deaf ear, so needless to say I felt like Helen Keller this week.

Fast forward to yesterday. I had a misunderstanding with a friend and took some things the wrong way and ended up crying a bit. (Not good when you're not seeing well already.) Everything turned out fine with my friend and I went to dinner with my husband. We parked on the street and had to put quarters in the parking meter. (A lot of them, I might add!) And as I was searching at the bottom of my purse for additional change, I felt something small and round. I picked it up and could not believe my cloudy, red eyes! It was my contact lens! I still can't believe it. It would be like finding the proverbial needle in the haystack. I have no idea how it got in there and do not remember my purse being near the sink when I popped out my contact. But because it wasn't on the floor, it didn't have a chance to get smashed by a shoe. Now I know my purse has everything in it, including the kitchen sink...but the bathroom sink as well?? ;) I am still in shock. I wondered why God had answered my prayer on this night, particularly after the misunderstanding incident. And how he protected it by it not being on the floor. (It is in perfect condition, all I had to do was clean and disinfect it.) He also kept me from ordering the replacement. He is so good! But why didn't he let me find it right after I lost it? Why on this night? I had to think and pray on this one.

I believe the Lord is intimately involved in the details of our lives. I don't believe in chance or coincidences. I think he is not too big of a God to see his children's needs or use something like this as a life lesson. Maybe during the week I really wasn't 'seeing' things clearly in my mind. Maybe I didn't see God's hand in some situations and kind of gave up hope on some things. Maybe after the incident with my friend was cleared up, God was trying to tell me, "Now you are seeing things with clarity," and he was giving me hope in my Ragamuffin life. Or it could have been for me to know that he does answer prayer - in his time and according to his will. Or maybe he is reminding me to see him more clearly, seeking his face, day by day. In any case he showed me how precious I am to him and how he cares about the smallest details in our lives.

I praise you Father for helping me to see things more clearly - literally and spiritually. And to care about the seemingly 'unimportant' things in our lives. Because if you care about those things, how much more do you care about the major issues that we haven't gotten a resolution for yet? And to give us hope that you are working all things together for good to those that love you, even while our hope is waning and our spiritual vision is very cloudy. Help us to see you and your love for us more clearly, day by day.

Oh how I love you,
Your Ragamuffin girl

Scriptural References: Romans 8:24, 28; John 9:25; Psalm 105:4