Things I Love 26: Sowing the Seeds of Love

island hammock

“A life contemplating the blessings of Christ becomes a life acting the love of Christ” (Ann Voskamp).

“…life change comes when we receive life with thanks and ask for nothing to change” (Ann Voskamp).

I think for me two of the biggest agents of change have been 1) letting go of expectations of others and 2) receiving all of life as a gift. Making this list has changed my outlook. I have too many blessings to not see God in my daily world. I have been blessed too much not to want to be a conduit of blessing to others. That said, the list picks up at #726

726) God using me in the lives of those around me who don’t know Jesus to be Jesus to them.

727) The moment when you realize that the headache is gone.

728) Unplanned naps on Sunday afternoons.

729) Any time I get a chance to have a conversation with my smart and funny friend Alex.

730) Getting compliments on my t-shirts.

731) Not being naked in public.

732) The anticipation of coming to a good part in a book I’ve already read before.

733) Old Glenn Miller recordings.

734) Those pens that have the four different colors of ink.

735) Finding something of mine that I thought was lost forever.

736) That everybody doesn’t think like I do.

737) The smell of a freshly painted room.

738) The way Jesus told the best stories.

739) Gibson’s Donuts (even though there aren’t any in Nashville . . . yet).

740) The scent of honeysuckle in the air.

741) Picking blackberries in summer.

742) Being a Bapticostalicopalean (Baptist+Pentecostal+Catholic+Episcopalian) at heart.

743) Dreams that refuse to die.

744) Goat cheese.

745) The idea of changing the world by changing one person’s world.

746) Hearing people’s stories of how Jesus found and rescued them.

747) Seeing the glow of a person coming out of the baptismal waters a new creation in Christ.

748) The smell of the tire section at Costco.

749) Road trips.

750) Capturing a moment and a feeling inside a photograph.

751) Old graveyards.

752) My book of Emily Dickinson poems that I’ve somehow managed to misplace.

753) That I’m over 3/4 of the way through my list.

754) The freedom of finally being able to forgive myself for not being perfect.

755) Wintergreen or spearmint gum.

756) A now discontinued flavor of Snapple called Ralph’s Cantaloupe Cocktail that actually tasted just like cantaloupes.

757) Memories of riding standing up on the back of my dad’s old pickup truck with Murphy the black lab in the middle, grinning like an idiot and loving every minute of it (I meant the dog, but I’m sure I was smiling a mile wide, too)

758) Finding one Dorothy Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey mystery novels in hardback at a used bookshop.

759) People who always give me the benefit of the doubt.

760) Those Market Fresh BLTs from Arby’s.

Small Comforts

 

Tonight, I went for a walk around historic downtown Franklin. I ran into a friendly cat who let me pet him (or possibly her) and even purred. It reminded me of a scene from The Horse and His Boy.

Shasta had escaped from Tashbaan and is waiting for the others near the ancient tombs that are reputedly haunted. He is alone and afraid until he notices a large cat who brings him comfort. The cat, as it turns out, is Aslan in one of his many incarnations. And for you who are not familiar with Narnia, Aslan is a type of Christ.

Also, I remembered the scene from The Voyage of the Dawn Trailer where the ship is in the midst of the island of darkness with little hope of ever getting out. Lucy whispers a prayer and Aslan again shows up, this time in the form of an albatross who says in a voice that only Lucy can hear, “Courage, dear heart.”

Sometimes, the dark seems overwhelming. Sometimes, hope seems hard to find. It seems that nothing will ever change and it is futile to go on hoping for anything better or different.

That’s when God shows up. Often it’s not in a flashy, parting the Red Sea kind of way. It’s not fire coming down from heaven or a burning bush. Often, it is a very small voice that we can only hear when we are still and silent.

Often, God shows up in small ways. A kind word or text at just the right moment. A smile from a stranger. A beautiful sunset at the end of a hard day.

It can look a thousand different ways, but if you and I can look not just with our physical eyes, but with the eyes of faith, we can find these little reminders that God has not forgotten or forsaken us.