“In all things, give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus toward you.”
1 Thessalonians 5:18
Ever have one of those weeks where you need to look back real hard, with squinty eyes to find the blessings. I think I will name those kind of weeks “Job weeks” from now on. The kind where you’re at the store making a purchase that you need, but also know full well that your budget is depleted. You are sure the wrinkles in your forehead are increasing as you contemplate if this next item will cause your bank account to be overdrawn. Staring at the item (let’s say a needed medication) you walk to the register, but not before gazing at another aisle…and though you’re pinching pennies, and scrunching your brow, you see it and it’s looking like one big reminder…of your calling. This little wooden stack of words that remind you who you are, and what you are to do. Right here and now. Right in the moment when it’s hardest. Between the rock and the hard place. Between this week’s paycheck and next week’s lack. In all circumstances. And in that very moment, you know that you are not the only one going through these times. And that God is not unaware. Yet there it is, this one sweet Sunflower reminder. What do you do?
I’ll tell you what I did. I grabbed that little wooden reminder and made my purchase. I know, I know- forget the whole dwelling on a few extra bucks…because I know that right now this is the best medicine that I need. I need that little reminder before me. I brought it home and set near the place I spend adjusting my attitude most: at the kitchen sink. I want it to remind me that when I open my mouth to utter any words…that I consider their weight. Knowing before, after and during every single moment and occurrence I can choose what will slip through my lips.
That I can count it all joy… or curses.
That a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving is just what it says.
Sacrifice is something that costs.
What does it cost?
I lay my perspective at His feet and say, Lord- it hurts. I don’t understand it. If it can be avoided, or ended now…let it be so. But, Lord I accept your will and trust you in it. Trust that you are good. This current situation might not BE good, but you are still God and good. And you have good for me in the end, ultimately. I sacrifice MY worry, sense of injustice, frustration and doubt. My disbelief.
I take it to the foot of the cross. Lay it down. Leave it there and accept His sacrifice. I look up at His precious face, see His crown of thorns, His, battered, bruised body. I see THIS very gospel of sacrifice and am reminded of His goodness. His mercy and His faithfulness.
He doesn’t ask me to hold back my feelings, but to offer them up honestly.
BUT he reminds me that His gospel is for EVERY moment.
His Good News, for the darkest of days…His redemption right here in the drugstore, in the daily living, in the hard places, draws nigh.
And right here, we are changed. From an ungrateful people to a holy, loved, cherished bunch. Right now, I lay down my ranting, unruly, ungrateful heart and mind, and sit at His feet. Weeping in light of my wretchedness. Weeping in light of my joy. Weeping within for the saving grace, that creeps right into the wet corners of a rainy Monday. The Gospel is for every day. For every moment. Not just Sunday. Or Sunday School hour. It’s for us in the morning, reading the newspaper. It’s for the daily conversation. It’s good news for every hour every moment. For that moment that slams you into the wall, and the moment that all seems undone.
It’s for the market, the soccer field, the kitchen and theatre.
It’s for your day. My day.
497. Our newly painted grey house. Thanks to my hubby’s “vacation” from work, the house is sporting “Autumn Fog”. 498. Answered prayer in surprising ways! I won a blog giveaway for a Science program through sweet Barbie’s (My Freshly Brewed Life) place : Uzingo– My girl and I are very excited! 499. A haircut for my girl from a very faithful friend. 500. Steamers and Beer at least once a year! Thanks to a “blessing” received from a Secret Gifter I enjoyed a Sunday evening dinner shared with my hubby on his last day of vacation.