On Those Days When I Don't Want to Do Anything

 

          Today is one of those days filled with excitement: several young people and I will venture into St. Louis, Missouri and serve and learn about the city’s homeless. I’m thrilled and am so looking forward to all that will occur.

          However, today is also one of those days when I don’t want to do anything.  It is the ironic day when your heart is eager but your will lacks ambition. My body aches, my to-do list looms, and all I want to do is crawl back into bed. I whimper before my Lord words like,

          “Lord, please heal me our this is going to be a rotten weekend”

Or

“My family better thank their lucky stairs I’m pushing through this.”

Neither are true. Both, if dwelled upon, will make one very bad, destructive attitude.

And that’s when I remembered yesterday’s reading from church. Paul, when writing his letter to the Philippians wrote:

“But I have all, and abound: I am full, having received of Epaphroditus the things which we sent from you, an ordour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, wellpleasing to God.”

Paul had previously said that the Philippian's gift was one of a kind; no other church, at that time, had been supporting him other than they. I wonder how large a gift it was? I suppose it could have been hefty but generosity is not determined by amount but by the heart.

No matter the size we know that their giving, their love in action, was a sweet smell and pleasing to the God of the universe. Imagine! God stoops down in love to gaze upon his creation and accepts with joy the meager workings we offer. How beautiful! How great God is!

What does this mean to me: That my actions can either be wellpleasing or unpleasant to my Father and Lord. I get to choose what I will offer today. Will I offer my body (consequently offering my time, energy, deeds, and attitudes) as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable before God?

 Some have the misconception that pleasing God is hard to do; I protest that notion. God, who knows our motives and inner thinking, is well pleased when we offer even small, unnoticed things in His name. He, the Creator of the heavens and earth and all within it, accepts a glass of water given in His name.

Today, I choose to look past myself and give even the small things to Him. Will my body still ache? Yes. Will my stubborn heart fight? Most definitely.

But at the end of the day I want to look back and know that I gave my best to God and rest in the knowledge that He accepted it. Not because He has to but because He wants to.

          Rejoicing in His great love!

              Frannie

In Which I Count the Blessings

Via

 Lately, in my wee life, blessings overflow.

Right now it’s busy. School and (God-given) work demands my attention. Four or five rambunctious 1^st graders require some devotion every Sunday morning. Trying to serve my wee family while Mom’s away (and to keep sweet about it) seems to take every moment not already given away.

But with all this comes so many blessings.

j Watching God literally meet my financial needs. Being a student with a seasonal job sometimes makes winter a little tight. Yet, my Father has so faithfully supplied my needs. Trust me, the gas tank always gets filled through His care and oversight!

k Being a Sunday School teacher is way harder than I expected. But watching little hearts take in the Word of God . . . it is amazing. (And being loved by little hearts isn’t so bad either J)

l Sometimes, ahem, I mean more often than not, I lose my patience when it comes to serving around the house. It amazes me how quickly a clean kitchen can turn into a disaster zone; therefore, I am learning the beauty of family life outside a clean kitchen. My family is amazing--full of laughter and moments of closeness. A clean home is wonderful but building friendships is much more rewarding.

m I’ve also discovered the beauty of honesty. I had been feeling insecure about something and was allowing it sour my relationship with my dad. Only after I brought it up did I gain peace and understanding about who I am (accepting the abilities God has wisely given me) and how I can grow.

n Talking on the phone isn’t easy for me; therefore, when Mom’s on a military deployment I tend to shell up. Thankfully, that hasn’t happened. Both she and I have purposefully talked and though I miss her, I feel our friendship has grown in news ways over the last two months.

o Speaking of blessings . . . Lord willing, Mom will fly home within the week! How wonderful! Also, do I hear retirement-bells ringing somewhere in the near future? . . .

p I do! In honor of those retirement-bells I foresee a wonderful celebration trip to Florida . . . March 8^th! Eeek! Disney World, princess crowns, sun rays, family time, freckles, and photos with Belle and Rapunzel coming soon! (I wonder if Eugene Fitz Herbert will be there too? Hmmm . . . J)

q Classes are going well . . . although homework is never done in a timely fashion. I thoroughly enjoy my New Testament class and am seeing God’s Word in a brand new light!

r This weekend I am blessed to accompany my church’s young people to St. Louis. There we will spend time serving and learning about the city’s homeless. SO excited!! I have been praying for a door into city missions and feel God will use this. Excitement!

s Finally, throughout life’s busyness and interesting turns, I am blessed to find God’s peace real and tangible. God is interested in our lives and surrendering to His will brings so much joy and quiet peace. I definitely do not abide in Him as I ought and so I am thankful he keeps seeking and caring for me--even when that means diciplining me.

“Yes, in me, in me He dwelleth

I in Him and He in me.

And my blessed soul He filleth

Now and throughout eternity.”

He Will Do It

I’ve always held this blind, childish belief that if ever persecuted or martyred for Christ I could handle it . . . until two weeks ago when it occurred to me how painful and horrible torture is. Living in rich and free country and in a home full of love has sheltered me from the daily hardships the majority of the world faces—every day. 

When I realized how horrific, how painful, dying for Christ could be my insides began to shudder. Days passed and I held this unmentionable fear within me. I feared the inevitable truth: if I were ever cornered and tortured in the name of Christ I would deny Him.

           The fear of pain is great yet in comparison the fear of denying the Son of God is much greater. It has far greater consequences.

          Finally, when I could no longer hold this ache within me, I shared with God this secret within me; I opened up to the Almighty Lord my hidden fear. And He said to me:

Child, I love you more than you love yourself. I will give you no more than you are able to handle and I have promised to give you grace for whatever I desire you to go through.

Peace, sweet peace. Our heavenly Father is more concerned for His name than we are; He is more concerned over His glory. And He has promised to be faithful. 

How could I think the grace He has given to countless martyrs He would refuse me. Well, they were spiritual giants. No, they were (and are) men and women just like you and me. They needed the sufficient grace of God to keep them amidst trials. 

Most importantly, I am to remember that dying for Christ starts today, right now. But my flesh cries out, “I can’t let my self die.” And He says, “No you can’t, but with me all things are possible.” 

How wonderful that Christ has already won the battle over sin and death. How wonderful He is for giving grace so that we too can be conquerors. 

Rejoicing in Jesus,

      Frannie

Cute Truth

 

Cute truth.

 

 

In Those Moments

"Happy moments, praise God. Difficult moments, seek God. Quiet moments, worship God. Painful moments, trust God. Every moment, thank God."

-Unknown

Stuck in Dreams

Via

        

         I’m a dreamer; an ISFJ to be precise. What’s that mean? It partly means I find more pleasure and enjoyment in the idea of a thing to the thing itself.

For instance, I find great delight in the idea of spending the day on our pond; it’s rather lovely, my idea. It goes like this: Me, beautifully arrayed, sitting in our silver boat. I float about reading my latest find while eating an apple just like Anne of Green Gable would do. After a while I let my hair down and I just know that the scene is as pretty as a picture.

          In reality I’m sitting in a rusty boat on a murky pond and I’m sweating buckets. My half eaten apple has long turned brown and the gnats love to swarm about my tangled, wind-tossed hair.

          Reality isn’t nearly as pretty as I pictured.

          The problem isn’t that I’m dreamy. I believe God made me this way for His glory. He knows that His church needs both practical, down-to-earth realists as well as the reaching-for-the-stars dreamers. He makes all things work for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

          The problem is how I let my preference for the idea become more important, more engaging, than the idea itself. We all know of the sincere Christian who dreams of becoming a missionary yet fearfully refuses to speak of Christ to his college peers or the young lady who dreams of running the picture-perfect home yet refuses to be a blessing where she is at now. They’re in love with the dream while they shirk the hands-on, practical necessaries.

          What then can we dreamers do? Throw out our ideals? Never. Instead let’s put our hand to the plow. Has God given you the desire (dream) for a more active, powerful prayer life? Then spend time in prayer. Have you been inspired to get into shape? Then by all means, put that on-sale Valentine candy back on the shelf. Are you dreaming of running a home of your own one day? Then practice the virtues of a servant.

Making dreams reality only happens when we are willing to do the hard things.

Ugh. I hate doing the hard things. But what I hate even more is never growing because I’m too busy dreaming.  Too busy wishing I was a better Christian, witness, daughter, student and friend . . .

Oh, Papa, teach me to be content with where I am at and to put into action the beautiful dreams you give.

Yours forever dreamy,

          Frannie


 P.S. I know, I know. Writing about being Beatrix Potter one moment and then writing about reality the next . . . can this girl ever find balance?

One  day in glory I will. Until then laugh and bear with me.  :)

Dreaming . . .

One day, when I grow up, I want to be like Beatrix Potter.

 

 

 

Happy Valentine’s Day!

 love this pictures? So do I! Check them out here.

The Power of Prayer: Every Country

 

We live in a world full of blind, falling people: my neighbors, my fellow students, my relatives, my rural Missouri County. Jesus told us that the fields are ready for harvest; the fruit is ready to be picked though we may have to sow in tears.

It is so easy for me to make good intentions; to make great, noble and ineffective plans. And while I sit, thinking rosy thoughts, people literally die and go to a literal, Godless, burning eternity.

I feel so small and so incapable of the great work needing to be done. One thing I can do and should do first is pray.

Operation World, an excellent organization which documents the prayer needs of each country, is beginning a 60 day prayer movement praying through the world’s countries in alphabetical order. Amazing, right?

Today is Afghanistan. Please click here to discover ways you can pray for the Afghani people.

Operation World’s Facebook page added this: “The status of [Afghanistan] women especially warrants prayer. They were effectively banned from public life by the Taliban. Widows endure particularly harsh plights, and depression and suicide are common. Worse, they have a life expectancy of only 44 years, with one of the highest maternal mortality rates in the world. Female literacy is under 20%, over one-half of Afghan brides are under age 16, only 5% attend secondary school and one-third are subjected to violence. Many still suffer the traumas of years of war and of pressures such times brought upon women in Afghan society.

Although employment and social engagement can be very sensitive issues, younger girls are increasingly attending school; one-third of primary students are girls. Special radio programmes minister to women by communicating from the Bible the love and value that God holds for them. Pray for the disenfranchised women of Afghanistan, that they might receive justice, opportunity and freedom from fear and oppression, but especially that they might find Christ amid their suffering.”

Mary Slessor, missionary to Africa, said, “"Prayer is the greatest power God has put into our hands for service — praying is harder than doing, at least I find it so, but the dynamic lies that way to advance the Kingdom."

Let’s pray like it really mattered . . . because Jesus says that it does.

          Love to you!

                   Frannie

My Walk with Mr. Pip and Resentment

          Hello dearies! I hope this finds each of you well and abounding in the knowledge of Jesus’ love! These past few weeks have been somewhat hard for me as they have been busy, a bit lonely, and a little challenging. Yet, each morning my God’s mercy is new and He faithfully upholds me in His presence. His blessings are unnumbered!

          Yesterday, I put on my walking clothes, and despite the light rain headed out to walk the property’s fence line. I’ve been reading Elizabeth Elliot’s The Mark of a Man and in it she spoke on how often the natural world and experiences we encounter often point to the spiritual world we have a hard time seeing.  I wanted to see this for myself and began to think of all the different analogies I could discover while walking.

          After finishing the first lap around our property I stopped into the house, grabbed a glass of water, and again headed out into the stormy evening. As I passed the garden, I heard an incredibly sad yowl. Mr. Pip, my dear, gray cat, sat curled up on the porch crying for me. And I mean crying! I did not believe such a pitiful sound could be made except from hungry or hurt infants.  J (Can you tell I haven’t had cats for very long?)

          I called to him. “Pip! Come on!” He came running. Eventually he began to come close but seeing the small beagle (a stray that has been hanging around . . . anyone want a cute beagle? Please take him!) Pip jumped up into the near brush pile.

You see, about two months ago our dog, Kimo, attacked Mr. Pippens. And dear Pip hasn’t forgotten nor forgiven. Any dog is an involuntary nemesis to poor Pip. And this timid, whiney beagle was no different.

So I picked up Mr. Pippens and began to walk. What a pitiful threesome we were: A small, eager beagle, a soaked, hissing cat, and a wet, backpack-carrying girl in goulashes.

That’s where the analogy came flooding in. What if Pip was me? Lately, I’ve been struggling with bitterness in my heart. I had my life planned out (as far as I could see) only to have it changed. I’ve tried to forgive in my own power yet anger and resentment still floods in. I obviously have not forgotten.

Sure, Pip needs to remember that dogs could be harmful.  It is wise to gain lessons from past hurts and mistakes. However, Pip looked silly running away from a timid beagle; this dog would not hurt him for anything. So we also look foolish when we continue to lash out on those we think will hurt us.

Pip’s not forgiving was hindering his journey. We had a goal: to make it around the fence line once more. Yet, his fear and resentment was holding him back. So it is with us. We are on a journey and holding grudges will hinder our walk, both physically and spiritually. We will never run the race as we were supposed to if we choose to hold onto past offences.

So there we were: a girl, a dog, and a cat. I’m sure I looked the most peculiar as I talked over my new learnings with Pip who sat trustingly in my arms. And then that’s where the most beautiful comparison came from.

Even when we’re bitter and allow our lack of forgiveness to hinder our race, our journey, Jesus never leaves us. In fact, He carries us through those hard times. These past few weeks when I thought I was carrying my burden of hurt alone Jesus was right there carrying me. He knew that I would not be able to walk on in my own strength so, in love, He has carried me. How beautiful! How true!

I don’t want to carry around the heavy load of disappointment; I do not want my walk in life to be hindered by my refusal to obey Christ and forgive. And I am so thankful that the power that raised Jesus up from His grave clothes is now in me. By God’s grace and power we can lay down the heavy burden of bitterness.

Jesus is the way,

          Frannie

“Yes in me, in me He dwelleth,

I in him and He in me.

And my empty soul He filleth

Now and through eternity.”

-         Horatio Bonar

My God Can do All Things

I just want to yell out the faithfulness of my God.

He promises to meet all our needs.

Sometimes He meets our needs when we least expect it and sometimes He chooses to ignore our deadline to meet His.

 

And sometimes He gives us not what we want but what we need.

If my earthly father is sweet and loving and a good provider how much more is my Heavenly Father?

My Abba Father truly is faithful and knows all that I need.

I don’t have to beg him with unnecessary cries. He already knows what things I have need of before I ask Him.

I only have to ask.

Sisters, let me tell you something:

        Trusting God to meet all our needs (financial, emotional, physical . . .) is hard and scary. But observing the God of the heavens meet my puny needs is incredible.

      Frannie

Why I {Don't} Love Downton Abbey

 

It really is quite brilliant, Downton Abbey. Full of beautiful people, props, and enchanting gowns. The plot is suspenseful; will Mary and Matthew ever marry? What will happen to the inheritance? The creators of the show have done an excellent job captivating audiences of all kinds including Christians.

And so, here I am stepping upon my soap box. I promise I’ll not dictate an hour from “Frannie’s Book of Sermons” but only offer a bit of encouragement.  

Lately, I have seen a huge explosion of Downton Abbey interest from fellow believers. And sisters, I understand why you love the show. However, I am distressed. Why? Because I feel we are filling our hearts with a lot of evil for a little bit of good.

After a couple shared how wonderful the series was I eagerly awaited the moment I could watch it. Immediately I was enthralled with it; the costumes, the romance, and the history really is quite enchanting. I watched two seasons.

But I had to quickly hide my eyes when Thomas, the homosexual servant, tried to kiss a fellow man. And I shared Mary’s shame as she nearly gave her virginity away and then was forced into a life of lies and guilt. I felt peculiar when I tried to explain the plot to my mom and sister; I was a little embarrassed that I had to say I was enjoying a show with so much filth in it. “You just have to watch it for yourself,” I’d say. “I know it sounds weird but really . . . it is good.”

I canceled season three from Netflix.

I just don’t think the Son of God, who was with me as I watched the show, was honored. I believe the Spirit of God who is in me was not blessed or lifted high.

I just want to encourage better choices, dear sisters. I know; there really is some good in the show. But let’s choose the best. Let’s choose to invest our time, affections, and memories in to things which are pure and virtuous and of good report.

With a loving heart,

Frannie