Good Sunday morning friends. I’ll be short and sweet today.
One of the books I’m reading this week is A Million Little Ways by Emily Freeman. It is soaking into me, plumping up the dry corners of my heart and making my thoughts lush again. She is giving me lots of good stuff to reconsider, lots of exciting ideas about the power of faith and imagination, the trajectory of thought and energy. But what’s different about this book compared to the others I’ve read recently is how it’s all based on a firm scriptural foundation.
I am a fairly positive person, especially after some hard lessons I’ve learned these past few years. I’ve learned that your attitude and imagination are crucial to your well being. And they are choices.
But when faced with the deepest, heaviest weights in my heart I tend to worry. It’s a slippery slippery slope, you know? One negative, fearful thought leads to another, which makes you start with the what ifs and the imaginary conversations with difficult people and then you are up at three in the morning all week and your husband says you look miserable lately and your best friend is asking about you secretly, is she okay?
Well, by now I know that fear is the opposite of faith.
That appreciation trumps expectation.
And that worry is a sin. It’s forbidden.
These things are firm in my heart, and thankfully the moments I slip up are now few and far between. But they do happen. Because sometimes life is heavy and the people we love are walking in the wilderness. I have so many stories to share with you. For now, let’s see where this beautiful, inspirational book leads:
We all have our unique shape of fear.
There are no greener grasses, only different lawns.
Isn’t that true?
I have a dear friend who is wildly generous with sharing her appreciation and love for other people. She is one of the strongest encouragers I know, among the most passionate and loyal girlfriends I have ever had. But she never sees her own beauty. She often longs to be the women she admires and forgets how loving, smart, beautiful, and hilarious she is. How magnetic. And maybe she thinks all other lawns are greener, not just different. I wish I could help her. I know she would take away my fears and worries if she could. Over the years she has certainly tried, and I love her for it.
But neither of us really can operate each other’s mind, which is the real battleground. So we make little loving gestures, send sweet, sincere notes, and pray for each other. We try to insulate each other’s hearts from the cold and the poison of the world so that we can make healthy choices with our own thoughts, our own emotional, manifesting choices.
With the love and care of my husband and close friends and the power of prayer, I really am coming out of the shadow of worry (again). Back in the bright, warming light (again), but in an even better frame of mind than before. Because I learned a lot from this brief second season of dark. I’m not even upset about it, because I know God understands and forgives. He won’t waste this energy slump either.
Jesus shows himself through you in a million little ways.
Perhaps more often than not,
they are ways you can’t plan for,
don’t intend, and may never even know about.
There is no waste in the visible or invisible work of God.
Your life if green and beautiful, even if there are dead spots and even if the weeds and wildflowers look different to you than what you see elsewhere. You can love people even if you can’t live for them. God will help you make use of every single thing in your life. Train your thoughts, okay? Make sure your imagination supports your prayers. Help each other remember. Forgive yourself when you forget. Life is so beautiful and good.
I sabotage the gift with my limited view of God’s provision.