Modaeh Ani

 Last year I added a portion of a prayer offered by my Jewish friends to my early morning:  Modeh ani (fem. modah.) Thanks I [offer] I love the prayer order; the action , gratitude and surrender, is spoken before ever acknowledging myself.  Before my feet hit the floor, gratitude to the Giver is my first utterance.

Most often I’m giving thanks for his rescue plan: Jesus, but the more I limp down life’s rocky path, the more often I thank Him for the unpleasant. Hard things, adversity, the unexpected and yes, humility.

My flesh loves to complain so beginning my day with a mindset of gratitude in all circumstances empties me to make room for Him. It’s not a natural thing for me; it’s a deliberate act of surrender and trust. Bottom line: I’m deeply dependent on his power in me. 

This weekend before busy VBS I’m battling insane fatigue, a new arrhythmia and brain fog from a recent virus. “Thanks I give” for this unexpected interruption as it’s another race to run, not by my might, but his Spirit in me. Zechariah 4:6

Mondays with Jesus

 

Mondays with Jesus

 

Mother’s Day 2013

I sat alone on a balcony, watching gentle waves crash upon the NW Florida shore and uttered: God, is this all there is?  Emptiness? 

It wasn’t despair, just a profound sense of futility.  I didn’t realize at the time that Rob’s mental fatigue was really undiagnosed Stage 4 cancer, but I did wonder if he might be asking the same frightening question. 

Yesterday, I sat with someone else pondering the same thoughts.  Twelve years later, not listening to the lie any longer, I so wanted to blurt out the encouragement I had found in Paul’s letter to the church at Philippi. I refrained, choosing to quietly listen; most often one must personally discover the narrow path to indescribable joy. It takes time to digest, don’t you think?

This morning I am feasting on Philippians 4:6-9 once again, the very chunk of Scripture that refocused my view on life, the diet that has since fed my brain through a decade plus of loss, trauma and solo living.  Oh sure, I have slipped and crawled back to ‘begin again,’ but Paul’s prescription always leads me to deep treasure. 

Listening and conversing with my Father 24/7…counting the gifts-all of them…consuming  “set apart” that magnifies His character. 

That means eliminating life’s junk!

Paul admonishes: “Keep putting into practice ALL you have learned and received from me.” End result?

Mother’s Day 2025: I’ve found my joy, I’ve found His Peace. That’s enough!

 

Mondays with Jesus

 If I could tell my younger self just one thing, it would be to look toward the perimeter, not the center. Think back to middle school parties, everyone looked to the middle of the dance floor where popularity took center stage. No one seemed to be scanning those holding up the wall. Adult life is often the same, even at church. 

Months ago, out of obedience, I intentionally refocused my gaze. Who was sitting alone at a social function or standing in the background at church week after week?  At times, it was awkward and it often took a few approaches before a person began sharing their story, but it’s been worth it. One woman now shines a beautiful smile when she sees me coming down Heslip Hall. 

Jesus most often looked past the inner sanctum to focus on the dismissed; of course, we would expect Him to do so, but doesn’t He expect us to intentionally shift our gaze?

I am reminded that Jesus longed to gather all of his chicks; He knew everyone had a need to be seen, healed and forgiven. Jesus  positioned himself in a manner which made Him approachable, even if it made for some late night visits. Right, Nicodemus? (Hmm…imagine me skipping the usual lunch plans to visit with someone waiting for the late Metrolift.)

So, young self who emerges all too often, there’s little to gain in desiring entrance to the “In Crowd.”  Extend your sightline; your life is about to become so much richer and most importantly, a real blessing to others. 

Mondays with Jesus

It’s etched in my planner, fellowship intentionally set aside. Even though it frequently requires rising very early, it’s alway worth it. And this Monday after Easter is my favorite, the New Year’s Day of my faith journey. 

I refuse to let go of the joy felt on Resurrection Sunday; I need to carry it forward. Not as a party as is the tradition of the Eastern Church, but as a day of quiet reflection and gratitude. 

A Psalm 126:3 day…The LORD has done great things for [me], and [I am] filled with joy.

Things I ponder this day after:

The cost, yes, always the great cost of tetelestai, the life-changing “paid in full” work of the Cross. 

The Victory of the empty tomb, full of hope, assurance, future. 

What does it look like to be an Easter people? 

And where is Jesus calling this Easter Person to go?

Lord, help us remember all You have done for us for more than a mere 24 hour period and mold us into a beautiful reflection of your Light. Make us 365 Easter People!

Slow Down

 Recently, a 6 year old entered my classroom full of well-planned activities.  I bent down, asking him which center would he like to explore first. He softly answered, “I would like to look out the window for a while.”  “Okay, buddy, go for it” and I whispered to myself, “ Oh, how I wish I could join you.”

At a very young age, he’d learned the skill of ‘slow down; you move too fast,’  the very one I can’t seem to remember. 

The rest of the day, I followed in his footsteps and you know, that intentional rhythm made space for an important conversation, full of life-changing potential, with an old friend. 

This morning, I, too, am staring out the window. There’s a long to-do list,  but enjoying my cardinals play in my Crepe Myrtle may just be the better plan. 

…but only one thing is needed.   Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her. Luke 10:42

Lent

 I’ve been thinking a lot about the original garden sin this first week of Lent…the spiraling separation, the unraveling that one act of disobedience caused and continues to do so. “Where are you?” states Creator God. Of course, He knew their hiding place; His question surely had a purpose. I think He was pursuing them, drawing them out, fear, shame and all. He has always pursued us! 

This next week, I’m contemplating this same question: Where are you, Robin? Is there anything I’m not bringing before Him; what pulls me away from the intimacy He so desires; do I stop long enough for my Abba to gather me up in his love, his grace, his plan for my life?