The Glory of Simple

“Do few things, but do them well. Simple joys are Holy.”
-St Francis of Assisi

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I’m beginning to see the glory of simple. The beauty of small gestures and whispered encouragement. The behind-the-scenes instead of center stage. To love without a microphone, to love without recognition. To do the simple acts of each season without looking to the next.

I become too emerged in the spotlight. I look over to see if I am being noticed, if I can become seen. I glance across to the girl who has an adoring audience and I become angry and jealous. I want applause and compliments, and published works. I want more than I have, more than I am called to right now.

Do trees or vines or plants produce fruit every season? No. There is a time for production, a time for harvest, and a time for rest. I will not always be producing the amount of fruit I believe I need to be.

What will happen if I begin to listen to the Lord and say,
“What you have given is enough?” What If I can believe in daily bread instead of planning to stock my food pantry for month?

This season I am in is about being faithful in the simple things he is asking of me right now. He is asking me to write what I see and am inspired by and not worry about who will or will not read it. He is asking me to continue showing hospitality to anyone who enters my home and to love my husband. Nothing more, nothing less. However, my over achieving tendencies continue to burst into overdrive.
“God, I can do more. I can always do more! See me?”

I need to learn how to rest in simple acts of holiness, embrace the season of behind-the-scenes love, obey what I have been given, and love God through these things instead of striving to achieve recognition.

I continue to feel the Lord say, “Look at me. Just at me. Don’t look anywhere else.” This is what I imagine Jesus saying to Peter as he began to walk on water in Matthew. He begins by looking only at Jesus, but as soon as he looks away he falls. Every time I look away from Jesus, I start to see the people around me and compare what they are doing to what I am doing. That is when I fall. Although I fall, He always picks me up.
“Oh you of little faith! Don’t you trust the love I have for you?”

When I look away I feel the overwhelming tidal wave of earning, striving and making my own way, but when I look at him, oh when I look at him, I remember. I remember who He is. I remember his voice, the way he takes care of me, and the way he calls me worthy, important, enough.

Simple joys are holy. I want to embrace the simple and embrace the holy. To do only what he is asking of me right now in this season, and not worry about what’s coming or what was. I want to find joy in the life of daily bread desiring to be full on this day alone.

No more striving, comparing or coveting someone else’s season. This season is mine, I am His and nothing can replace the things he is giving me right now.

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Grace in the unknown

I’m walking into a new season.  A season I didn’t expect, but kind of really like.
As I walk into a new season, April is starting and so is spring.
The snow has melted and sun peaks its head out of the clouds every once In a while.
I’ve placed my sweaters in a box and my coat hangs unused in the closet.
This season is beautiful because it’s full of grace.  Grace that is being retaught and relearned.
I woke up this morning to a dreary, gray, rainy day.  I couldn’t help but smile.

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You see, rainy days, especially rainy spring days, are my favorite kind of days;
Rainy days remind me of grace.
They remind me that God never forgets to refresh, to restart, to renew.
They remind me to rest and remember to cuddle.
They remind me to love and be loved.
They remind me that I am never forgotten and I am always taken care of.

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God takes time to refresh the earth.
To quench its thirst for him.
I like that idea, because He’s doing it to me.
He’s reminding me of how cared for I am,
and how much he knows and I do not. 

The father has torn my plans from me.
I’m not surprised because that’s what he does.

I was planning on moving to Ireland in August to be a part of the ministry that is happening in Coleraine, Northern Ireland.
I am no longer planning that endeavor.
Instead, I’m walking into a much scarier place, home.

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I tend to find security in unwavering plans.
God likes to remind me that He is in control of my plans, not me.
My plans for Ireland were good, and they were glorifying to Christ.
Staying home is also glorifying to Christ.
One is not better than the other.
But something He is teaching me is that sometimes it’s easier to keep moving
and never look back instead of standing up to your past and not letting it define you.
He’s teaching me how He redeems and defines me. 

So, in this new season I’m going to curl up on the couch and listen to the rain.
I’m going to watch as God refreshes the earth just like he continues to refresh me.
I’m going to learn as people hand me grace and remind me of my Savior.
I’m going to listen as I hear the promises that are engrained in His word.

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I am taken care of, and I see His grace clearer than I’ve ever seen it before.