Finding
God in the busy crush of daily
life. Where He is sometimes pushed
aside; until we have a great need of Him.
The Lover of our souls, made to wait, our affections growing stale and brittle
out of what we claim as necessity.
Can you hear His voice,
tender as a lover, calling your treasured name?
Do you see His love, laid
out before you as a lavish celebration of His delight in you?
Can you feel His breath on your cheek, as He
whispers sonnets written just for you?
Take a moment, take time to recall His lavish gifts to
you. See how He has wooed you; how He
woos you still. Be still, breathe in the
quiet. Let yourself see God’s love
unfolding before you, in His way for only you.
Mark it; capture it within your heart.
Store it up for the dry times of the soul. Lay this foundation, daily; and let the
weight of your life rest upon it. You
are cherished. You are delighted
in. You are loved by the Creator of the
universe, the Author of all eternity.
I will mark these gifts; I will see them and treasure
them and recognize their meaning in my life.
Here, I will record them, daily adding to their number. May they speak only of You, o Lord. May You be honored here, for Your love is the orb encircling my
life.
1.
Redemption, a LOVE that rescues and restores, rebuilds, and reclaims what was
always there.
2.
Baptism.
A young man’s declaration that he will follow Jesus all the days of his
life.
3.
Photo-day clothes shopping; in stores that
were once too expensive.
4.
Hiking to Cub Lake, with longer legs and
stronger backs; chatting the entire way.
5.
The return of Friday date days…without the
study having to be crammed in as well.
6.
Photo op with Bibleman…and knowing that his
passion for the gospel is infectious.
7.
A four-hour coffee date to bring a friend
up to speed. And her empathy.
8.
The annual tradition of re-birthday girls’
night out celebrations.
9.
Doing laundry with a friend. And sharing truth, to keep alone-ness at bay.
10.
Fixing what needed it; and having the
resources to do so.
11.
Going to church sans the Officer, instead
of hiding at home.
12.
A long day of friends and sun and
play. Respite for solitude
13.
The last turn around the rink…for this
summer.
14.
Answer to prayer…immediate and
literal. Direction and purpose.
15.
The delight of a little girl as she watches
her toes and fingers glitter.
16.
Her self-assurance as she rounds the
corner, out of sight.
17.
His delight at rediscovering friends.
18.
Finally breaking the silence; and their
offense on our behalf.
19.
Parents and siblings who take the kids
fishing and hiking and amusement parking.
20.
Sitting in the lobby, praying.
21.
Having to do it again.
22.
Doubling up on birthdays; and having it all
work out.
23.
Parents-in-law who can’t get enough time
with their grandchildren.
24.
My on-sale uniform
25.
The quiet that finally let me hear You.
26.
Remembering why…Song of Solomon
27.
An inspired manifesto. And the desire to follow it.
28.
Golden-dipped days of sand and surf, just
the four of us.
29.
Mouse-ears, light-sabers, roller-coasters,
electric parades, castles, and fireworks.
30.
Flight.
31.
The friend who’ll drive us, at 4AM, to the
airport.
32.
A hometown friend as a representative; and
her finesse and expertise guiding us along the way.
33.
The ultimate spring cleaning.
34.
My mother’s day bouquet of roses
35.
Post-semester trip to Breck.
36.
Snow falling as we sit in hot tubs
37.
Family game competitions, ending in
wacky-jacks
38.
The Officer’s phone calls in the middle of
the day. Just to say, “hi.”
39.
The question that just won’t settle: “then why
do you go there?”
40.
The welcome we found at a church we
visited. God’s people, open to receiving
one another.
41.
A two months gone Christmas present that
sits by the door, reminding me to pray for whom it is intended.
42.
A daughter who wants to butter me up with a
pie date. I can’t wait!
43.
Pink Champagne; because when you love
someone that much, her accomplishments feel like mine, too.
44.
Wasted Thursdays.
45.
Praying together, and being filled with the
lightness that only comes from oneness.
46.
A video game, 2 minutes of side-by-side
time that opens up the rest of our Mom/son date for finding out who the other
really is.
47.
The Officer, doing everything he can to
make me happy.
48.
The jump, a little too close to the stream,
at the bottom of the sledding hill ~ and the hilarity that followed.
49.
The
out-of-the-blue-left-field-never-woulda-thought answer that I know is the result
of little girls’ prayers.
50.
Her theology trumps mine. Always.
51.
He wants to be a missionary. He knows what that means.
52.
Dreaming.
Together. Alone. As a family.
53.
Un-expected Sabbaths, in deep snow, blankets, hot chocolate, movies,
cuddles.
54.
And getting to do it over again, the very
next day.
55.
A note, the very thought making me laugh;
hoping my laughter springs out at her over the miles.
56.
The Officer, who can see that I’m buried,
and he wants to pull me out again.
57.
A Blind Lab, playing fetch.
58.
Fish tacos, for the first time, with a
vibrant, old-new friend.
59.
“I. Am. Praying. For. You.”
60.
Immanuel:
evidence that I will never know the trajectory of the story; I can merely await
God’s personal, miraculous intervention.
61.
Shoulder-shaking encouragement, of the
don’t-you-dare-give-up variety.
62.
Whispering, “you’re the only one I can say
this to,” and knowing what follows will not be judged, but the heart behind it
searched out.
63.
One person checking, every day. And letting me know they see.
64.
“Rock star pajamas” ~ thank You, Father,
for their fitting!
65.
Wonders, miracles, small and great, wound
in words to remind me who You are.
66.
Karios time,
to carpe the chronos pace of many days.
67.
An entire day lost in bumps, jelly-legs,
and following my younger brother in his world.
68.
The Officer who offers those days as gifts.
69.
The time-strapped hand that held the book
to screen, an ezer to propel studies.
70.
Every
morning. New
mercies, every morning.
71.
It’s
not in there. The
wide-eyed opening of my spirit to Your truth, not man’s traditions.
72.
Hand-hewn floors.
73.
A face-lift for windows, polka-dot pillows
to throw, fresh blowing of color to make things new.
74.
Face-lighting, springing steps of my father
to pass family traditions to another generation. And them not wanting to leave.
75.
Excitement, shy and humble, in my Mother’s
voice. Because writers often are.
76.
Hurts, greatly stricken, acknowledged, then
let go because our friendship is too deep.
77.
Chinese strategy with my beloved
God-family.
78.
My Dad’s inability to leave dirty dishes
sitting in the sink, or the cooler unfilled.
79.
Actually buying the hardwood, and knowing
my Mom will make everything just right.
80.
Driving up a snowy mountain road, glowing
with love.
81.
Rivers of encouragement from my Mother’s
tongue. And sensible shoes.
82.
A house too-full, bursting with memories,
laughter, and love. Like holidays
should.
83.
“I’ll be home for Christmas,” an apropos
brotherly anthem.
84.
Watching S’s carved out of powder and hops
dared on ice, a Koala and Firefly learning.
85.
Two strips of plastic, waxed, edged, and
bound to my feet, letting me fly.
86.
Geeky snowflakes, harbingers of laughter,
remaining in spite of summer’s breath.
87.
The most perfect batch of fudge. Ever.
Because we all made it together.
88.
The words, Spirit launched, that soothe and refract truth into weary hearts.
89.
Advent, a season of remembering to
anticipate hope in hopeless times.
90.
Three, scripturally inaccurate but
thematically complete, crèches.
91.
The histories behind each bough-dancing
bauble
92.
the Pentatonic scale, culturally boundless
and neuronically intrinsic
93.
Humility ~
pride’s antithesis, the pathway to joy and peace.
94.
Glitter glue, to make ordinary prose
sparkle.
95.
Ornaments from my father’s childhood tree,
now twirling at the ends of my branches.
96.
A motley Christmas tree, very un-magazine-ish
in its perfection.
97.
A down comforter, weighted warmth for
solitary studies.
98.
Flannel sheets.
99.
the Word
~ always available, always training, always alive
100. The
glow from shining countenances proclaiming that these captives have been set
free
101. God’s
voice to us both, unified and unflinching.
102. Homemade
apple pie. For breakfast.
103. Becoming
the church
104. Friends
who finish, and call me towards the ending.
105. The
universe is expanding, as our understanding of it expands; just as Lewis’s
Aslan grew because God is always the same size, we merely become more aware of
Him and his Awesomeness.
106. The
ontological argument: it at once announces how small and humble I really am, by
putting me into perspective of the eternal, Almighty God.
107. The
2 women I can call or text in the moment of crisis, and know I will be prayed
for and over On the Spot.
108. My
kids singing made-up songs in tunes only they know; harmonizing in ways only
they understand, in caves of prayers, under blankets ~ working together,
because unity comes from caring for others.
109. The
only two arms I ever want encircling me.
110. A
day at the lake; divinely Ya-ya-ish
111.
Art museums
112.
Friends you can leave your kids with … at a
moment’s notice
113.
A four-poster bed, handcrafted especially
for me
114. Romance
115.
Love notes in lunch boxes ~ everyday. Just like my Mom used to
116. My
brother’s nearness
117.
Teaching my kids the Cotton-eyed Joe in my
living room, with my sister
118. My
man, in uniform
119. Homecomings
120. A
Mom who upon arrival, takes the vacuum from me, and finishes because she can
see how tired I am
121.
A surprise visit from a friend; one who can
see the piles of laundry and dishes and help me get them done
122. A
bowl of ice cream, shared with the sweetest treats in my life
123. A
hummingbird, a spritely rainbow, trapped in the car
124. A
chinchilla, soft and nibbling, in spite of allergies
125. 11
days in the car, spanning across the frozen wilderness of the Yukon and Candada
126. The
azure emanating from glaciers
127. Beluga
whales, ghosts of icy waters, traipsing up the coast
128. Anchorage,
Alaska
129. Lodge-pole
pine trees, stately guardians smelling of vanilla
130. Breckenridge,
Colorado
131.
Realizing I get lost in the details when my
beloved sees the bigger picture
132. Learning
how to landscape…sort of
133. Rural-suburban
Colorado
134. The
swing my Dad set up, so I could rock her on it; just like the one he rocked me
on
135. My
Mother, bathing my newborn daughter for the first time
136. Derby,
Kansas
137. The
silver screen: Hitchcockean grace, Lewis-esque worlds, Burtonean quirks, and
Lurhman-esque vibrancy
138. Nana’s
kitchen table, a place of laughter, confessions, and food. Always more food
139. Papo,
calling me “Mrs. Baros” for the first time
140. Albuquerque,
New Mexico
141. e.
e. cummings, from mother to daughter to
sister
142. The
pearl “mommy ring,” given by the Officer, to commemorate becoming parents
143. A
dirty old hat, camouflaged and stained; but the epitome of love
144. Polaris
145. Ft.
Derusee Beach, Hawai’i
146. Nancy Drew,
from Grandmother to daughter to granddaughter
147. Laughing
until I snort. Yes, even the snort
148. The Timbertoes,
beloved of my youngest, as I loved them, too
149. Ocean
Isle Beach, North Carolina
150. Capice
sea shells, a delicate chandelier
151.
The Nutcracker ballet, a family tradition
152. The
Mink coat
153. Grandma
Myrna’s propensity for late nights
154. Aspens,
quaking and whirling golden filters of sunlight
155. Christmas
tree lights
156. A
friend, who plans everything, and make sure I’m taken care of in the process
157. My
Mom’s butterscotch and chocolate chip cookies, made with help from my kids
158. Glasses,
on little faces
159. Butterflies
160. A
country that does not, yet, persecute me for loving You.
161. Auburn
hair, liquefying sunlight with copper strands
162. Toothless
grins
163. Being
a bride
164. The
bench my grandparents made, an heirloom wedding gift
165. My
daughter’s love of books
166. Orchids
167. Books
I can’t put down, even when I should be asleep
168. The
reading nook
169. Words
170. A
Velcro Labrador
171.
The clack-clack bravery of a Mother-in-Law
172. My
$25 piano
173. Worship
174. The
thumping swoosh of skiing
175. Lap
lanes
176. Water
177. 14,000
feet above sea-level…5 times
178. My
tea garden: built by my Officer, for quiet moments with Jesus
179. Lilac
bushes, finally taking root.
180. Four-walls-and-a-roof,
turned into a home with laughter and memories
181. Traditions
182. Music,
of all kinds
183. Seminary
184. Nightlights
185. Mink-weighted
feeling of security
186. Listening
to my kids’ prayers
187. Fireside
conversations with my beginnings
188. The
kisses that promise life
189. Being
a girl
190. But
not a pink bows, don’t-want-to-break-my-nails kind
191. Velvet
sand, glowing in the moonlight
192. Soft,
muffling blankets of snow
193. Cool,
sharpness of coming rain
194. Being
called forward, to be more of who I was
made to be
195. My
Dad’s voice
196. My
brother’s smile
197. Conversations
with friends that make me known
198. The
easy, silly moments with my sister
199. The
comfort of my Mother’s arms
200. Mountains,
sentries of glory
201. Soft
hands, folded over mine in prayer
202. The
THRONE, now approachable through
grace
203. Dancing
firefly eyes
204. Koala
bear snuggles
205. Breath,
drawing in life
206. Peacock-colored,
giddy firework LOVE
