The Gratitude List

It all began November 6, 2011. Maddie’s Sunday School teacher challenged the class to keep a gratitude journal for one week. If they wrote every day and brought it to church on Sunday, they would receive a special prize. Maddie latched onto the word “prize” like a Black Friday shopper on an early morning deal. Each night, she faithfully listed 20 items. The reason she picked twenty is easy—20 lines on the page means 20 items for which to thank God.

Her first day, she wrote:

1.       Parents/family

2.       Clothes

3.       Toothbrush and toothpaste

4.       Food and clean water

5.       House/shelter

6.       Pencil to write with right now

7.       Paper to write on right now

8.       Hot tub on my deck

9.       Paintings and pictures

10.   School, even if I don’t like it

11.   Homework, even if I don’t like it

12.   Light

13.   God to lead the way through my life

14.   Books

15.   Coupons

16.   Clocks

17.   Timers

18.   Glasses

19.   Contacts

20.   Chairs

At the end of the week, Maddie recorded 140 items (many duplicates). She brought her journal to class and chose her bag of bubble gum prize.

Since November, with no extra incentive, Maddie diligently scribbles in her gratitude journal nightly. She’s amassed 1200 things she’s thankful for from the entire alphabet to love at first sight, from everyone’s birthday to muscles, from big eyes to smelly nail polish, from fingers to pillows. Maddie covers the gamut of her life from the mundane to the meaningful. She takes her journal to sleepovers so she won’t miss a day of writing. And, if for some reason a day slips by, she doubles up the next. It’s become as much of a habit as brushing her teeth.

This attitude of thankfulness developing inside her, this ritual of writing down her thanks, causes her to dwell on the goodness of the Creator. Each day she searches her mind for those things, those people, those events for which she can give gratitude to the Giver. This daily writing awakens her mind to all the good gifts God has given her and even some she finds distasteful, like school and homework. Still, she offers thanks. She leads by example, and for that I am grateful!

"Give thanks for the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever." (Psalm 106:1)

What’s the Word?

The mantra chanted repeatedly in circles around this time of year is familiar to most of us. “Did you make any New Year’s Resolutions?” spills out of mouths like the greeting, “Merry Christmas.” People’s responses range from scorn because of past failures to excitement for what might be achieved.  I’ve failed miserably when making goals. One year I planned to eliminate sweets from my diet. In the midst of eating a piece of cake, I realized I forgot about my goal. The rest was history including that resolution. Since then, I’ve learned tips about making goals more specific and measurable. Perhaps I would’ve succeeded if my resolve were to cut sweets to three times a week instead of never eating them again. I grasped the real lesson:

never again make a resolution involving chocolate.

I enjoy creating goals for the New Year, focusing my energy with God’s help in various areas, such as family, spiritual, physical, ministry and leadership. In recent years, however, I’ve also prayed about a “word” that will characterize my year. Around November, I ponder what word God might speak to me. Many times, this word will crop up as I’m reading my Bible or another book. I may sense that He’s teaching me a trait through a family issue. I always hope it’s not patience because I really don’t want to take those field trip experiences.

A journal writer sporadically since a teen, I love looking back at what I’ve written. In my diary days, I wrote inspiring notes about boys I liked and ugly words about my sister: “She thinks she’s pretty, but she’s not.” It’s good for a chuckle but not much else. As an adult, I’ve vented and vomited words on the page. I’ve prayed and praised the God to whom I owe everything. And, I’ve remembered and recounted the events of each year. So, as I roll back the time to 2010 when my word was “flourish,” I read that it was filled with tough times, and I wrote, “I’m not sure that (flourish) really occurred in my estimation.” It felt much more like failure to me.

Last year, my word was “God’s Goodness.” Okay, that’s two words, but who’s counting?  The year began with “my brain is encased in a thick fog this morning after a migraine that felt like it was going to blow its innards like Mt. St. Helens. My left ear throbs as if someone were poking me with sharp needles.” Off to a great start so far. I began to wonder about my chosen “words” when I spent the first two week s of January 2011 in bed several days with various sicknesses…migraines, dizziness, ear pain and vomiting.  Intersperse about a million snow days when the kids were hanging around, and that’s a little too much goodness for me!

God’s Goodness

Yet, what God taught me with those two words over the course of the year was that His goodness had nothing to do with my circumstances.  In one journal entry, I wrote, “The year can only go up from here, right?! Right?! My words, “God’s goodness,” for 2011 sound almost humorous. Still I know that just because my circumstances have been bleak doesn’t mean He isn’t good. It’s all in the perspective, right?” Like a roller coaster, the year was up then down, yet I experienced His goodness in all of it. Our circumstances may not be outwardly good, but God can use them for our eternal good. What I found is that God’s goodness permeated each event in my life last year. It’s a lesson I will not forget.

So, what does this year hold? What word am I hanging on to? Drum roll, please….This year, I believe it’s “grace.” Grace for me when I blow it, and grace for me to offer others. Beyond that, I’m waiting to see how the year unfolds and what God will show me!  Now, it’s your turn.

What “word” will God give you?

Diving into Fear or Faith?

Maddie’s feet, frozen to the diving board, would not budge. Shoulders hunched and arms tense, fear fixed her body in one place, immovable. Teammates yelled encouragement, “You can do it, Maddie. You got this!” Their words couldn’t penetrate through the fear gripping her like a vise. She attempted to move her feet, walking two steps forward and then reversed, changing her mind. What if...?

Minutes earlier Maddie attempted her first reverse dive without the belt and cables attached. She ran off the board, kicked her feet into the air, hurling herself backward into the reverse position only to slam her back on top of the water. The sound reverberated through the building as I spontaneously groaned. The lifeguard looked up at me, the groaner from the bleachers. Body jutting forward in anticipation, I held my breath waiting for Maddie to climb out of the water. Holding back tears, she stood before her coach while he asked if she was okay. Maddie grimly nodded without speaking, tears threatening to break loose. She determined to be brave even though her back throbbed in pain. Coach Will directed her back to the diving board to reattempt the dive. Slowly, glumly, she padded her feet forward, letting the other divers cut in front of her several times before the coach caught on.

“Ok, Maddie. You have to go. You can do this.”

We waited. And waited. And waited. One teammate pulled her aside and gave her a pep talk. The coach hooked her up to the cable again for a quick security dive. After removing the cable, she mounted the board, stared at the water and then at the sky where her feet were supposed to kick. Instead of performing the dive, she straight jumped into the water from the board. Another distraction. Minutes passed of standing on the diving board, staring at the water and sky again, willing her legs kicking high into the air, hands and face into the water and not her back on top of it! Minutes ticked into an hour.  Practice was an hour over, yet Maddie’s teammates hung around to offer words of encouragement. Still, no dive. Fear wrapped around her mind like a boa constrictor, and it wouldn’t let go. Finally, the coach released Maddie from repeating the dive until the next practice when she’d face that board, that dive and that fear again.

The coach desperately desired that Maddie nail that dive successfully before she left practice. He didn’t want her to wait so she could stew and fret and worry. He knew that if Maddie went home having performed her reverse dive, her confidence would build instead of her fear. Instead, her fears still loom like monsters in the dark until the next practice.

Fear is defined as a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined. Maddie told me later that her mind told her to take that dive, but her body wouldn’t move. The threat of her 60 pound body smacking the water chained her to the board like a prisoner.  What will break that chain of fear holding her fast?

Fear can be healthy when it cautions to be careful around a dangerous situation. We teach our children to fear walking in front of cars on a busy street. Be careful and always look both ways, we tell them. When we encounter an animal, we maintain distance until we know it’s safe. Many of us won’t venture into a dangerous part of a big city by ourselves after dark. Fear causes us to take extra precautions when we travel to a foreign country. Fear can keep us alive!

On the other hand, fear has the power to keep us from experiencing all that God has for us. We don’t fly in airplanes because they might crash. We don’t let our children out of our control because something bad might happen. We shy away from deepening friendships because we might get hurt. Our fears range from the seemingly reasonable to the extremely irrational.  We are each uniquely created. Both our environments and our personalities play roles in our fears. Some of us were born with a predisposition for certain fears and others developed fears at a young age due to circumstances. Some fears grew out of painful situations, and others seem silly. No matter what our fears may be, we need to determine whether they are keeping us stuck in a holding pattern like an airplane that must keep circling the sky before it can land. What might we experience if we replace that fear with faith? What are we missing because we are too scared, like Maddie glued to the diving board?

God may or may not magically take away our fears. He desires us to work through them, replacing fear with faith. Every “what if” that deters us from experiencing all that God has planned for us, we ought to take captive. We need to keep taking steps of faith down the diving board, flinging our feet up into the air, relying on Him to catch us as we soar through the air. Then, we can enjoy the splash of hands and face, not back, diving deep into the life-giving water that fuels our faith instead of our fear.

What fear do you need to entrust to God? 

The Gift of Gratitude

“Can you see the holiness in those things you take for granted—a paved road or a washing machine? If you concentrate on finding what is good in every situation, you will discover that your life will suddenly be filled with gratitude, a feeling that nurtures the soul.” Rabbi Harold Kushner

Tangible things I so easily take for granted:

1.       Love of husband

2.       Time with my three precious children

3.       Loving parents who are still married (50 years)

4.       Warm home

5.       “Clean” water

6.       Three cars

7.       Shelves of books to read

8.       Electricity

9.       Three meals a day

10.   Close friendships

Far more importantly are those items that God has blessed me with which have affected my life for eternity. Ephesians lists many of these:

 “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will—to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment—to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ.

In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory. And you also were included in Christ when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation. Having believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.” (Ephesians 1:3-14)

Spiritual blessings:

1.       Adoption

2.       Forgiveness

3.       Lavish grace

4.       Holy

5.       Blameless

6.       Wisdom

7.       Understanding

8.       Mystery of His will

9.       Chosen

10.   Hope in Christ

11.   Inheritance

12.   Word of truth (gospel)

13.   Holy Spirit

14.   God’s possession

Ann Voscamp, in her book 1000 Gifts, states “A life contemplating the blessings of Christ becomes a life acting the love of Christ.” When I meditate on all the God has done for me through his son, Jesus, how can I not be grateful? Shouldn’t that attitude of gratitude spill out everywhere I go—in the car, at the grocery store, in my conversation, in my family?

But, what about the hard things? How can we see God’s blessings in the heart-breaking events of our lives? In divorce and betrayal? In cancer? In death? In physical suffering? How do we give God thanks in the midst of trials and troubles?

1 Thessalonians 5:18 says, “Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” No matter what I am facing, I can give thanks right smack dab “in” the middle of it. I thank Him for His faithfulness to walk me through the pain. I thank Him for comforting me in my sorrow. I thank Him for leading me through the darkness. I thank Him for healing my broken heart. I focus and fix my eyes on the One who endured the pain of nails piercing His body for me and suffered shame on my behalf. I realize He too has experienced betrayal, physical suffering and death. In this imperfect life, how can I accept pleasure and not expect pain; love and not betrayal; life and not death? And yet, God promises to be with me, present beside me, walking through the valley of the shadow of death.

Jesus broke the bread and gave thanks right before he was nailed to a cross for my sin. How can I be ungrateful at any point in my life?

“Father, help me to see everything in my life through the lens of gratitude. I want to remember that you have blessed me with every spiritual blessing in Christ so that I can be the love of Christ to those around me. When trials come, allow me to see your faithfulness. You promise to never leave me no matter what I am going through. When life is sweet, recall to my mind the good gifts you have given me that I so easily take for granted.  May a heart of gratitude spill out of me to everyone I meet.”

“The unthankful heart…discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings!” – Henry Ward Beecher

How Blonde Are You?

I’m beginning to believe that everyone may have a tiny bit of blonde underneath their red, black or brunette strands. Family and friends teased me for years about my blondeness even when my hair color resembled that of dirty dishwater. When I was a teen, boys stood on either side of my head to talk claiming the wind blew right through my ears. The number of jokes I didn’t understand were as numerous as the sand on the beach. And sometimes, I clearly don’t think before I speak. A few days ago, I asked my 17-year old about the 30-hour famine youth event she would be attending.

“So, will you be fasting for 24 hours?” I asked.

Smirking, she said, “Mom, it’s a 30-hour famine!

I’m grateful for the opportunity to give my family and friends stress relief at my expense. Even today, friends laugh when I tilt my head slightly to the left saying, “Huh?!” Yes, I have this disease, but it’s not simply because I shell out big bucks to be blond.

Many claim this dumb blonde myth circled the globe since ancient times, but it culminated with Marilyn Monroe who paid to dye her brunette locks to blonde when she played in the movie, “Gentleman Prefer Blondes.” Hair color commercials seized the opportunity to promote the idea that blondes have more fun.  Brunettes were seen as serious and intelligent, while blondes were depicted as fun-loving and superficial. The movie industry continues to sell this dumb blonde myth in movies such as “Legally Blonde 1 and 2.” A story about a dumb brunette would bomb at the box office.

While I have endured abuses all my life because of my mental incapacity to “get things” (it must be the bleach seeping into my scalp), I have managed to overcome these trials by taking advantage of the opportunities to laugh at others’ blonde mishaps. Even though my hubby is a natural brunette with about three gray hairs sprinkled in, I howled when he unwittingly taped the movie “Braveheart” in Spanish. A few months before that, he taped a “must see” movie for all of us to watch because of its apparent good ratings. In his confusion over the title, he recorded the wrong movie. As we viewed this movie with our two daughters, our jaws dropped when a man’s pants dropped. We stopped the show and ribbed Tony for scarring us for life! “The Piano” and “The Pianist,” are apparently two very different movies.  

It’s nice to know that no matter the hair color, everyone has their blonde moments.

Lessons From the Wilderness

Please check out my latest post on Sanctified Together. Read how God can use the wilderness experiences in our lives to be more like Him!

A London Encounter

Crowded with people scurrying to catch a train, tube or trek into the city, London’s Victoria Station is a hub bub of activity. Suits speeding to their offices, confused travelers with eyes glued to maps (that’s us), shoppers browsing the stores, they are like ants on a mission. When we arrived via London Heathrow Airport, disoriented Americans dragging heavy pieces of luggage through the mob, we couldn’t conceive the God encounter that would transform us the final night of our journey.

Irish sheep-Ring of Kerry



To celebrate my parent’s 50^th wedding anniversary, the four of us spent a week in Ireland with its 40 shades of green, rolling hills dotted with sheep and cows and lovely people with harmonious accents I could listen to for the rest of my days. We traded the calm and serene for crowds and chaos when we transported to London, circling four days in a whirlwind across the city. Hitting the must see sights, we toured St. Paul’s Cathedral, Tower of London, Windsor Castle and Buckingham Palace. A bit consumed with British history and obsessed with kings, queens and castles, I’m slightly disappointed I wasn’t born a royal. Still, the defining moment of this trip brought home to me what is truly valuable. It’s not palaces and princesses, crown jewels or coronations, royalty or robes.



Wall to wall people in London



The night before we were scheduled to fly back home again to Indiana, my dad and mom, Tony and I dined at a restaurant on the third floor of Victoria Station. In honor of our last night in London, Mom ordered the traditional English fish and chips with mashed peas. Mashed peas paired with fish and chips makes as much sense to me as tennis shoes with a black cocktail dress. For me, peas of any sort belong with the tea thrown overboard in Boston Harbor. The rest of us chose to eat more appetizing fare—pizza!  As we were finishing our meal, a British man interrupted our conversation through the booth’s window cutout open to the mall. His clothes were worn and all he carried was a small bag containing a few items. “Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt you, but could you spare any change?” he said.

Mom, an extrovert on steroids, responded, “What do you need money for?”

“Ma’am, I’d like to get something sweet.”

Mom asked, “Are you hungry?”

Stunned by a question the stranger has likely never been asked, he paused and then answered. “Why, yes, I am.”

Blasting the bewildered man with questions about what he’d like to order, mom took charge of the situation while the rest of us remained silent watching this interchange.  He settled on the pizza and a coke. Smart to skip the mashed peas, like us. Mom then asked the man if he’d rather eat his food in the restaurant or take it to go.

 “I’ll take it with me, ma’am.”

“Well, why don’t you come in and sit in one of the booths, and we’ll talk to the waitress about your food.”

The homeless man plodded into the restaurant and plopped down into one of the booths. He wore weariness. No sigh escaped his lips, but I could sense it. Tired, hungry and all he asked for was a few pence for something sweet, as if that would satisfy the hunger pains. His head hung low as if some invisible weight were holding it down. Awkward silence reigned at our table. It seemed sacrilegious to continue casual conversation. A man hungered while we feasted—while I spurned mashed peas.  My eyes blurred as I blinked back tears threatening as I watched this worn out creature. And yet, here we sat, part of a divine interaction, our resources covering this man’s need.

After the waitress brought his to-go food, the man slowly rose and plodded back to the window cutout. “I don’t mean to bother you again, but thank you.”

Mom said, “God bless you.” The man replied the same and disappeared into the mall to fill his stomach. 

I confess that had my parents been absent, my response would’ve been different. This homeless man would’ve been an inconvenience on my vacation. Perhaps I might’ve thrown a few pence his way in hopes of hurrying him along.  I doubt I would’ve have offered him food or drink.  And yet, Jesus said, “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in…” (Matthew 25:35)  

Too often, I am quick to judge, criticize, and wonder whether my gift to someone in need will be misused. I ignore the prompting to offer what I have because I am too busy sizing up the situation. Is this person worth it? How many opportunities to be God’s hands and feet have I missed because of the huge log in my eye?  I’m like the Pharisees, focusing on the outside of the cup instead of the inside of my heart.  When I am compelled to give, I should act quickly without censure, condemnation or calculation of a person’s need or value. Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25:40) What happens to my gift offered with love and grace is not my concern. Ignoring the call to give, however, is not only disobedience but also a missed opportunity to be part of someone’s transformation.

I don’t know the far-reaching effects of this London encounter. Perhaps the meal offered this homeless London man gave him renewed hope that someone cared. Maybe this event witnessed by the waitress sparked an attitude of love and giving. If each told their friends, how might they be changed because of one meal given in Jesus’ name? I only know that I don’t want to remain complacent, stay blinded or become calloused to those in need around me. I ask not only for God to open my eyes but also to instill in me a willingness to give without strings. A meal, a $20 bill, a shirt, a cup of coffee has the power to change a life. After all, a meal in London changed mine!