Prayer

The Eye-Opening Way To Soar Like A Bird Over The Desert Of A Wasted Life

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I was flying one day, soaring like a bird. I could see for miles around. I could hear God whisper, even though I doubted I heard correctly or well.

He said He was pleased with me.

I had a life the world scrunched up like used paper, ready to toss in the garbage.

But God saw a world of possibilities on the horizon of my life as we soared that day above the clouds.

I had invested my life. I had spent my life, out of the world’s horizon of possibilities, in one tiny area. I had invested most of my health and youthful vitality into two small children.

Homeschool them, He had whispered that day.

And through my tears, and hopes, I obeyed, never imagining how far into the horizon of my life this journey would take me.

And again, He said, year after year.

And when I look back now, with my hurting back of older age and the gray hairs that crown my face, it was a worthless life, one the world throws away.

“Heaven always recognizes the fathers and the mothers who pay the price and create momentum for following generations. Fathers and mothers, in eternity, always receive benefits (if you will) from what their investment provided in future generations . . .

Be willing to be the first in your family to break into something.

Be willing to pay the price to get a breakthrough that the rest of your descendants will benefit from because heaven applauds those whose . . . anointing is less, but they created the momentum so that another generation could inherit it and take it to a place they never had time to go.”

Bill Johnson in The Test For Promotion

“She threw away her talents!” they exclaim. My national government, the university and others had thrown money at me in my youth. “Study and take this valued position,” they offered.

And I did, for a while.

And then I homeschooled my kids for many, many years.

Why?

I don’t know.

I’m following my Saviour, and this is where He led me.

He seems to be leading some others there, too.

I am not a chess player, but only one of His pieces.

I must trust that my life, rightly lived, opens the door to the wind of the spirit of His work in the world.

And where is He leading me next?

It doesn’t matter.

Because in His arms, I can place the stewardship of my life. I feel alive there. I pray for you, too, to be set free from the snares of the approval our society offers, entangled by the search for ever more wealth, when we have enough food for today.

I pray for the strength to invest in little people if He calls you to set aside time for this.

And not everyone is called to homeschool, of course.

But wherever He calls you, I pray you follow.

And in each season of our lives, may we lay down how we thought life would be and pick up the strange reality of His life at work through a group of people ready to join the adventure.

Where is He leading you in this season?

Need some water for the journey? I hold out my canteen to you. And come on, let’s rest in this cabin we stumbled across before we start again, journeying tomorrow.

A little rest will do us good.

“Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest . . . Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

The Message

Have any food to share?

And may you have the strength to journey on again tomorrow, friend.

May the food God sends you be enough for today.

God then told Elijah . . . “You can drink fresh water from the brook; I’ve ordered the ravens to feed you.”

The Message

God, may we be awakened to see with Your eyes we pray.

How To Look Good At Church

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Photo source

Now she looks good.

This lady is 82 years old and wears a fancy hat EVERY Sunday at church.

Yes, I DO want to be like her when I grow up!

I even started collecting fancy hats at thrift stores to prepare for my old age. Below is a picture of me as Ms. Lovelybottom, the alter-ego who teaches our homeschooled kids manners. (Don’t ask. That advice is for when I know you better. A lot better).

So, yes! Some of us look GOOD when we go to church! And some of us look REALLY GOOD!

Once, I was featured on (my) blog detailing in the footnote WHAT name-brand clothing and accessories I was wearing! (For those who read that post, please don’t tell them EVERYTHING!) The point is that I am clearly qualified to advise on how to look good at church.

Ahem . . .

There was once a family led by a single mom who attended a church. She had four boys and one girl and EVERY WEEK, they were late. Sometimes, we would see one of the kids swatting the other as they pushed each other through the front door.

There was also a single lady who attended that same church.

Every week, the single lady looked like Mary in the show Downton Abbey. She looked VERY VERY good. AND her clothes were ironed.

And she didn’t push anyone on her way in the door.

She arrived early and unhurried.

But she turned up her nose at the four boys and their little sister. She looked down on them a bit, revealing her skinny, naked heart without much life. Her love was cold.

Through God’s eyes, she didn’t look as good as she thought.

Because God looks at the revelation we STILL HAVE compared to the revelation that we HAVE BEEN GIVEN. (If confused, see the explanation here).

The four boys still had some character issues to sort out, as they pushed each other around, missing their father, who could have modelled gentleness but was absent.

And their little sister, looking up at the four boys, sucking her thumb, her unwiped nose and big curious eyes peeking over her stuffy? She looked over at her brothers and smiled. They are learning.

Some of their rough edges rub off as their hearts register a few more millimetres of God’s love each Sunday.

The siblings’ incremental, growing love for each other infects the well-dressed woman too. The boys are making her look good as they grow and learn to direct their God-given energy and love to each other well. Eventually, they also serve her, in love, helping her with some outdoor work one Saturday afternoon.

And soon they are all – the little girl, the four boys, the well-dressed single woman – looking much better in their hearts, where it matters to God.

And that’s how we look good in church.

We keep going every Sunday and let the annoying people there refine us, grow us, and stretch us.

It’s the idiots (um…including us!) that make us look good at church.

And God looks at our hearts and is pleased with the growth.

We glean a drop or two more of understanding of God’s love for us, which gives us patience and a sense of humour to pour a drop or two of love onto our neighbours, especially the annoying ones.

Our hearts look better than they WOULD HAVE if we had stayed home each Sunday.

And there is a little more love in the world.

But having a nice hat helps, too, of course.

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

How To Be Brave At The Dentist’s And Doctor’s

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

I was having considerable dental work done, about a 3-hour appointment.

I brought my audiobook so “I can pretend I’m somewhere else,” I told the dentist. I was listening to a dramatization of people who were persecuted and even martyred for their faith. That audiobook helped to put my own relatively minor suffering in perspective.

And yet, as the dentist said, “This is the part when I’m like a woodpecker,” and placed a metal rod on my teeth which he then proceeded to hammer on like a mallet, I felt slightly… uncomfortable.

I sensed Holy Spirit in the room, almost like He was sitting beside me, wanting to hold my hand.

It used to be surprising to me when God wanted to speak or envelope me in His love.

But not anymore.

At that moment, I briefly remembered some ridiculous things my daughter feared. One summer, for example, she was scared of house flies and would not go to the park or eat outside without screaming as this terrifying flying animal approached her. I brushed off her fears and told her to move on.

And yet that’s not how Holy Spirit treated me with my concerns, which are so tiny in the scope of life.

Every time the dentist gently smashed me in my face, I could sense my adrenaline rise, and then I could sense Jesus comforting me. Like a roller coaster constantly about to head uphill, he smoothed out the hills and valleys of this experience so that my roller coaster ride was less bumpy. As I fearfully clutched His hand, He calmed me repeatedly so that the essence of this experience was the peace of His comfort.

He seemed to be holding my hand.

When the ordeal was over, the dentist and dental assistant commented that dental work would be much easier if more patients were as calm as I was.

I couldn’t have been more shocked.

“Who, me?” I wondered, looking around.

God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us.

The Message

And God, may I be the comforting presence to another’s fears next.

And so, what are the easiest ways to be brave at the dentist’s or doctor’s?

I have no idea, unfortunately, however three clues we can glean from this recent experience are:

1. Listen to audiobooks about people who die for a cause they believe in while people are deliberately maiming you. It helps! Try this one to get you started.

2. Practice picking up the clues of God’s presence in your life, and talk to a trusted friend about your questions and experiences.

3. Ask Him to comfort you and hold on tight when Jesus surprises you by showing up in your life.

God, may You comfort everyone reading this at their upcoming medical appointments more intimately with your soothing words, voice, and tangible arms of love. We pray for strength for today with the challenges each of us faces. Help us to learn how to more fully lean on You when life’s challenges come, we pray.

Roll A Dice or Ask God?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

What is the best way to make decisions? Does God play a part in our future decision-making? And if so, how?

Do we sit alone in our bedroom, eyes tightly closed and hope for a magic genie or an angel to answer questions about our careers or other important life decisions?

Or do we say a quick prayer and then do what seems right in our eyes, ignoring God until Sunday morning?

Or is there a middle way, where He sometimes speaks and where we sometimes hear Him?

I choose the rolling a dice option.

Roll the dice. My degree major is . . .

Four years later, I exited college, holding that degree certificate and wondering whether to turn left or right at the next fork in the road.

Can I borrow your dice?

We expect to make decisions this way.

This is mostly because we’d never heard of strolling through life any other way.

The chatty stranger I met yesterday recalled that when he was in his late teens, his mom announced that she wouldn’t have a son of hers playing video games in the basement! (There may have been an interesting story there, but he skipped that part.)

Regardless, it was time for him to find a job.

He flipped through the local college career guide like a Sears catalogue and chose “Millwright.”

The term had a nice ring to it.

Thirty working years later, he was sitting in a local coffee shop recounting this story to me.

It was time for his daughter to flip through an updated Sears catalogue, close her eyes, point to a career option and . . . BINGO! What career lay under her finger when she opened her eyes? Better dedicate the next 40 years to that option….!

What if there is a better way?

There is.

I recently chatted with two local teens from our church at a sledding party. We discussed their futures between the “Yahoo!” and crashes.

For a few minutes.

I had been thinking recently of offering to pray for discernment with her, to sort out the youth’s fears from her passions, to think through whether red herring motives, such as a desire for excessive money, praise of others, or prestige, were the sneaky drivers in their car, leading eventually to a crash when these idols failed 5 or 15 or 20 years later.

To pray and listen together.

We didn’t make the time for that, but it was on my to-do list. Way, way down on my to-do list. But on my heart.

When I spoke to one of them yesterday, I felt Holy Spirit guiding the questions.

And then, as she spoke about something else, Holy Spirit whispered, teacher. She’s a teacher.

I was startled.

So was she.

Fear of being good enough at explaining things had been holding her back. However, she was offered a part-time teaching assistant job at a local school she hadn’t applied to yet. I encouraged her to update her resume, apply for this part-time job and check it out.

She had been procrastinating, letting fear hold her back.

Then the teen confided that many years ago, while praying, a young girl told her that she thought God was saying she would be a teacher, also.

Hmmm . . . maybe God IS like the potter, shaping us, moulding us, knowing who we are.

It sure beats rolling a dice.

If you don’t know what you’re doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help.

The Message

Whether she chooses to work through her fears is her decision. My role was only to plant a seed. She may dig up the plant and toss it aside or water and nurture it if she senses God also guiding her in this direction.

And if I was wrong, then she can slap me in the face and we move on! (Actually she doesn’t slap me in the face. She has to love me!) But if I got it wrong, as I strain to understand and practice listening to God with my broken ears, I chalk it up to a learning experience and try again tomorrow.

We’re learning together how to walk in faith.

And sometimes, when we pray for and love one another, what He says is amazing.

Like the time God directed my career through the prayer of a friend.

Thank you, Jesus, for loving to answer us when we call to You! Help us let You steer our cars. We pray you blow your healing wind on our ears so the muffled sounds make sense to our hearts with broken motives and unhealed desires.

How To Rise From The Dead This Easter Season

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

The amaryllis opened its two enormous blossoms this week, revealing pink and white splendour and raising the scent profile of the room to a higher level.

And I am that amaryllis.

And so are you.

Let me explain.

About two decades ago, a neighbour gave us an amaryllis bulb in a cardboard package. “Water is all that is needed!” the box guaranteed. Beauty was promised to erupt from within this dry soil and ordinary pot.

I was excited about this, but I forgot about the plant in its little cardboard box in the rush of moving to another city. I felt guilty when I noticed it again a couple of years later. It was strewn between other forgotten items in our garage.

I gave it a few drops of water half-heartedly, looking at my watch as I waited for it to sprout life.

Then I got distracted.

“Well, I gave that a try, at least,” I thought, many years later when I saw the pot, out of its box now at least, but perched precariously on some items that needed sorting in the bowels of our garage. At least my guilt at not having TRIED to bring it to life was dissipated. “But I should give it another try,” I thought on my lunch break one day years later.

But when lunch was over, to-do items kept me running in circles. Days stretched to weeks and months. Another decade passed.

Our kids outgrew even more clothes, and I returned their small clothing items to the garage to deal with later.

“Remember me?” the amaryllis seemed to ask that year as I dumped a pile of too-small clothes on the floor beside it.

“We sometimes have to admit defeat,” I thought to myself, my advancing years having created a deep wisdom, called complacency, within. My few strands of grey hair had made me more rational and truthful. I didn’t look up from the floor as I spoke to myself.

My gaze had become limited.

I moved the plant to where we put things going to the dump.

At the prayer meeting that week, we were reminded to ask God to bring to life the seeds He had planted in us long ago. The ones He spoke in the whispers of the early morning hours or through the words of a friend – the ones we can’t quite find faith to believe.

And we were reminded to pour out our disappointments and frustrations to God. And to beg Him to make life sprout from the barren soils of our hearts.

And then I added a drop of water, two, on a whim that day to the amaryllis that was placed en route to the garbage dump.

Maybe?

And life sprouted.

And buds came in the form of hope.

And my soul was watered every time I watered that plant because hope was sprouting in me, too.

When the forgotten bulb in the little brown pot that hadn’t flowered in 20 years burst forth in all its fullness this Easter, I gazed at it in wonder.

And I don’t give up on you, either, Jesus whispered.

Because I know what the soil of your heart is capable of if you let Me pour some water on the seeds I have planted in your life.

Are you ready yet, dear child, to dare to hope in the impossible?

Friend, are you?

God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams!

The Message

What impossible seed has He planted that you have forgotten about or nearly given up on? Does He want to plant an impossible seed in you today? Can you squeeze a few drops of Easter hope from dry soil to water this seed?

Consider asking for the strength to ponder this question, clean ears to hear His love, a heart to trust His goodness, and hope from the water of His Spirit.

And may your life blossom in great fullness against all expectations too, friend.

To God be the glory!

(Happy Easter.)

Overwhelmed? (Non-)Expert Psychotherapy For Free!

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

So, I saw a Psychotherapist for the first time this week.

Oh, shut up! You need to see a Psychotherapist, too! You’re just too afraid of what may be dragged up from the depths to step near her office.

So I thought I would teach you what she taught me so you can save $160.

Yup. Psychotherapists get paid $160 PER HOUR.

I thought there must be a decimal error somewhere, too.

Nope.

So she taught me a “Tapping” technique called EFT Tapping.

I’ll teach it to you!

Now, in case you didn’t know, a caveat is that I am NOT a Psychotherapist! In fact, I have no idea what Psychotherapy even is! Psychotherapy has the root word “psycho” in it, which is a bit concerning, if I’m honest.

But, hey! What can go wrong? I’m teaching you what I learned for free!

If you try this technique and accidentally go more nuts or something, then sorry! Full refund! Haha!

(Since this is free . . . get it? Never mind.)

And we’re off!

So you Tap. Using two fingers, you gently Tap on the places where we usually rub our heads when overwhelmed. Yes! It’s easy!

And this is based on REAL science!

I’ll tell you what happened in my appointment so you can get the FULL experience.

She asked me how I was feeling RIGHT THEN. A little overwhelmed, frantic, and busy. Aren’t we all?

I mentioned why I thought this was the case, and she said, in an I’m-not-really-listening way, “Oh, that’s too bad!”

So I won’t listen to you as you answer that question either!

You’re welcome!

Then, she switched gears and said we could try “Tapping.” I thought it was a little insensitive of her not to talk through much of what I said, as most often, the reason we pay people is so they’ll listen to us. (Wait. Does that mean I should pay you for listening to me on this blog? Never mind.)

Anyway, I’m giving this a shot, trusting her.

And now, since I learned from her, you can trust me!

As mentioned, EFT Tapping is based on science. Here, I’m not even lying about the science part, as I was here!

So we Tap the beginning of one eyebrow, the end of the eyebrow, under the eye. You know how we naturally rub our temples or under our eyes when overwhelmed?

Other places are under the nose, the little divot on our chin, below our collarbone, and armpits.

As I was Tapping, I was thinking, who in the world has TIME for this?

This thought reminded me of a story about my good friend. She was told about some new scientific research. When a dog is happy, it wags its tail slightly MORE on the right than the left.

My friend had a blank look and replied, “Who the *** has time to study that ***?”

I was connecting with her feelings of time frustration as I Tapped.

However, remembering that my body shut down on me when I ran it into the ground a few months ago, I shut up and Tapped. (This is only a slight exaggeration of the truth of why my body shut down here, but who CARES about truth anymore, anyway?).

Are you Tapping?

Good!

Then, I found some tears sliding down my cheek, which was a little weird. I’m not a frequent crier. (My husband says I’m lying here again. No comment.) My motto is: Life is too funny for tears!

But when I slowed down, here’s the thing:

I could hear the voice of God speaking to the depths, healing me a little more.

I think the biggest key to learning to hear from God is SLOWING DOWN.

And what did He say? Good question.

What did He say to you when you slowed down for a minute to be still?

In repentance and rest is your salvation,
    in quietness and trust is your strength

Ancient Text

Another time, I’ll write up the part about what God seemed to whisper, so you’ll pay me that 99 cents for the information you CAN’T WAIT another day for!

Ha!

Just kidding!

This information is free, remember!

Just know: You get what you pay for!

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

True Freedom For The Woman Is This (Join The Dance, Friend?)

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

She sat on the grass, picking wildflowers.

She danced alone in that grassy place.

Free.

My choice is you, God, first and only.
    And now I find I’m your choice!
You set me up with a house and yard.
    And then you made me your heir!

The Message

I waited in the lineup, laughing.

Then I danced on the speakers at the bar.

Free.

Love me, hold me, ‘cause I’m free to do what I want any old time. And I’m free to be who I choose any old time

The Soup Dragons and Junior Reid

What is true freedom, then?

The freedom we danced and sang of when I was a youth at the bar left many of us imprisoned, wrapped so tightly in our bondage that joy dissipated.

The constraints God defines for us bring us to that grassy place where true freedom and joy are found.

And I danced alone, outside in the field, to the music God sang in my heart again this morning.

Your God is present among you . . .
Happy to have you back, he’ll calm you with his love
    and delight you with his songs.

The Message

And so, what is best for the woman, dear friend?

Come.

I beckon you to this side of the fence, where true freedom and joy are found.

Have you found your dancing shoes yet?

Put them on! Come – let’s dance together, friend!

Joy awaits!

What are you waiting for?

God longs to delight in you, too, as you put your hand in his and follow Him on a journey.

The term Hephzibah is Hebrew for “my delight is in her.”

You’ll be called Hephzibah, my delight

The Message

Come and dance with us!

Instead of insisting on freedom to create spiritual reality, shouldn’t we be seeking to discover it and disciplining ourselves to live according to it? . . .

In many areas of life, freedom is not so much the absence of restrictions as finding the right ones, the liberating restrictions.

Timothy Keller, The Reason For God

Where Do We Go In Winter When We Are Lost Again?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Looking for a way out of another winter that suffocates?

A pika was lost in a snowstorm.

She looks around her. Which direction to turn? She is cold, alone, afraid and doesn’t have much time before the cold winter chills her to the bone. Death arrives quickly out in nature.

And that pika is me.

(You, too?)

Why a pika? Because who knows what a pika is? (And how known do you feel?)

We look around us, seeking a direction to follow or something solid to hold onto.

The days of our lives are thrown in the garbage can like the pages on our daily calendars. There goes another day, week, decade.

We find our first and then our 100th gray hair. Do we continue to pull these hairs out? At what point are we defeating ourselves, even harming ourselves, by pretending that the clock of time isn’t ravaging us?

What do we hold onto?

What direction do we travel next?

Who can lead us?

Do we hunker down, curl into the fetal position for warmth, and hope for spring?

Will the joy in our souls remain at the end of this winter?

Where is the warming hut, the cup of hot chocolate, and the friend with the listening ear?

I am here, He whispers.

Do you hear?

What Is The Best Way To Fight The Dragon, Nibbling Us?

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Terrifying dragon breath

Steamy exhalation, drifting closer, nearer

I cringe back against the far edge of the cave

Trying to catch the life within my heart, fleeing

Closer, nearer, pungent aroma of steamy breath, foul stench of death surrounds me

“HALT!” I yell. “BACK DOWN!”

It cowers at my feet

My raised hand bears the silhouette of a dagger

In this eerie place

I light my torch

It’s blazing fire light comforts

And the dragon vanishes with the darkness

It lurks nearby, I know

Ready to draw nearer, to pounce

Should I forget, again, who I AM

It flies at me again

Like a mosquito

Irritating

Except it is the dragon

It will consume me if I let it

It seems to be only a minor irrigation

But it will leave me cowardly, a broken shrivelled residue of myself if I listen

To my thoughts

And so I pick up my sword

And I fight

Though I am already exhausted

And I win

Only when I remember

Who I AM

The Accuser of our brothers and sisters thrown out,
who accused them day and night before God . . .
So rejoice, O Heavens, and all who live there . . .

The Message

And so infused [by reading this], we’re again fearless, unimpressed by the bluster of the dragon.

Eugene Peterson, The Message Devotional Bible

God, may we no longer be blustered by accusations. May we remember who You are, and therefore remember who we are as heirs of the King. Please empty our head of the thoughts that do not align with how You think of us.

May we keep Your thoughts of us, Jesus, closer than the dragon’s.

As you listen to the song below, consider asking Holy Spirit, “How do You see me?”

Dancing In Life = Community Praying For Us (Ready, Yet, To Dance?)

/ Lori Lawe / 3 Comments

My dog looked up at me quizzically.

I have been giving him treats for “staying” and lying down in one position for more than a minute or two.

One ear cocked to the side, yawning sometimes – the dog’s instinctual response to say, “I’m trying to understand you here!” – sometimes excitedly getting it.

But most of the time, he stares at me, wondering how to get more treats.

And this is a perfect example of what we are like as we come before God.

He has something to give to us. The analogy breaks down here because God doesn’t simply tempt us with crumbs but has the full banqueting table to offer. But you get the point.

My dog sometimes forgets about me and my rewards and lies down distractedly.

And then I give him a treat.

And doesn’t that happen to us too? We forget about God, go about our business, and then we hear His heart whispering. He offers us food when we least expect it.

Well done, God comforted me, excitedly offering me a food reward. Huh? “What the . . .” I had just woken up. In my heart, I looked up at God, my head cocked to the side, confused.

He comforted me in His love, in His presence.

What was I doing right? I stumbled to the coffee machine, trying to put the puzzle together. The machine brewed, and God poured delight into my heart as the coffee machine poured delight into my cup. I scratched my head, trying to figure out why God was pleased with me.

I listened to HIS cues.

I responded to HIS call to obey.

The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It’s our handle on what we can’t see. The act of faith is what distinguished our ancestors, set them above the crowd.

The Message

He had been asking me to wake early, to write, to offer this page of food to you, dear reader.

And I obeyed.

That’s it.

Regardless of outcomes as defined by our culture, in God’s eyes, this writing is a success because it is motivated by obedience. Like a child with a crooked, smudged, stick-figure drawing, the parent is pleased with her art. God, the parent, is pleased with our crooked efforts at responding to His whispers.

And what you are seeing is the actor on the stage, the polished version of me for you to read about.

  1. God says write.
  2. I write.
  3. Applause.
  4. End of show.

But behind the scenes, there is chaos. An entire repertoire of people, those on lights and sound, and the director helped me look polished for you. They cried tears, remade the costumes, and helped me fit into my new identity.

I offer credit where credit is due:

1. Thank you to our friend who scared back the monsters intimidating me and offered me his hand. “Stand,” he said. And he prayed passionately that day in our kitchen, “She is about the King’s business!” he declared.

And I believed him. And I exchanged another piece of my old heart, the one linked to how people judge my life, for a princess robe. And I danced in joy.

And You danced with me, Jesus. Keep dancing, you whispered. Keep following Me where I lead child, regardless of what they say.

And I’m still dancing.

2. Thank you to my husband, the giant man. When I was in the metaphorical hide out, the place I shouldn’t have been, God led him to find me. He ducked to half his height to enter the place that held me captive.

When he entered, the evil shapes fled. He is not scared of the same things I am. His lack of fear terrifies them.

“Come, friend,” he offered, holding out his hand. “Don’t be afraid.” And he held me in his arms and comforted me as I wept. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

And there wasn’t. Because he regularly prays I will dance in freedom, in that grassy place. And so I do.

3. And I say thank you to so many of my friends. You prayed for me. And you told me what you thought God was saying to me, though you didn’t always understand.

And I took those pieces, precious as each one was, and I thought and considered and prayed and placed them into the puzzle of my life. Thank you. I honor you.

4.And I thank you for the eagle you sent, Jesus, who swooped down and woke me and fed me. “Get up.” She nudged me, and I rolled over, trying to go back to sleep.

But she was persistent, unphased by my life’s lack of spiritual success.“Try this food,” she suggested. I tossed that aside, too. I wasn’t used to the taste.

She tried milk, and I drank it with relish. I was thirsty. Later on, my stomach could hold a bite or two of meat. I was growing up.

“How is your time of worship?” she asked me again, and again, and again. Finally, I could answer her to say that I am learning to abide more frequently in Your presence. And the next time I danced, I held the sceptre you gave me, Holy Spirit.

And so thank you, Jesus, for the many, many actors behind the scenes of our lives.

Thank you for those who pray for us.

Join us in prayer?