Sunday, November 21, 2010

Memory and Truth

My memory searched for them, words to a chorus learned on a mission trip. They evaded me for most of the day. I even thought I'd found them and hummed along the wrong words until out on a walk words came rushing home. As the sky stretched out endless blue, fading day, I played these words again. "All that I need is you, Jesus, All that I need is you, from early in the morning till late at night all that I need is you." Such a simple song how could my memory forget? But it does and that I live. Wanting so very many things from pretty frocks, to love, to triumph over all that falls short, all these things I want when He is all that I need. I have Christ, I have life. I have redemption, I have hope, I have His ever presence. Sometimes it seems so silly, so trite, to say He's all we need. But it is true and it's truth has found me time after time. My prayer at the end of this Sunday is that His truth will find you too. And together we'll sing, "All that I need is you, Jesus, All that I need is you, from early in the morning till late at night all that I need is you."

381. for Him finding me
382. for His loving me, who wants so much
383. for having all that I need.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

All My Hope and Stay

Sunday had me a bit wobbly processing the morning’s message, wondering again at being a believer. Am I getting it right? Am I walking it straight?  So often not, But my shaky, clumsy feet found their footing once again as guitars strummed and voices raised. "On Christ the solid rock I stand all other ground is sinking sand." May your feet rest on His unchanging grace.

My hope is built on nothing less

Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.

When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace;
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.

His oath, His covenant, His blood
Support me in the whelming flood;
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my hope and stay.

When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh, may I then in Him be found;
Dressed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne.

On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand.

359. for hymns with a message
360. for music's power
361. for tea bags with strings
362. for a quick three minute drive to work
363. for my friend John
364. for the warmth of a hot mug in my hands
365. for lists
366. for company
367. for homemade soup
368. for fresh baked pumpkin bread
369. for coffee creamers
370. for Edie
371. for makeup
372. for pony tails
373. for my space heater at work
374. for the warmth of sheets, and comforters
375. for the approaching Christmas season
376. for days off for Thanksgiving approaching
377. for the huge orange tree in my front yard
378. for the sound of a flock of birds swooping by
379. for being dressed in His righteousness alone
380. for the anchor of Christ's mercy and grace

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Prayers and Photos

She sunbathed out on her back deck with a pale yellow sheet. Grab a towel from the mother, don a bathing suit and the 1980 something giant yellow headphones and I was there, on the drive way mimicking the grown up neighbor next door, thinking "we are cool." I was four. And now I'm older and I drag a table and a beat up old digital camera out into the yard. And somewhere on picture one too many, I think to myself, "we are not cool."

I need a husband with mad photography skills to come take my pictures. One like Kendi has, she's cool ubberly, utterly cool and hilarious. I adore her blog. Back to mourning, If you're praying for me a husband, pray harder, pray he can take a decent picture, or convenience me I'm beautiful in mismatched sweats. Amen

What I wore to church (last week), shopping and lounging about barnes and noble. For the record I bought a big fat whopping nuttin. Fine, I bought a little food, a girl has to live.

Blazer: Target, Turtlneck: banana republic, jeans: H&M, Boots: Vintage, necklace, via my granjanie, bracelets, gift (kate spade)

353. for my cowgirl boots
354. for getting the comfy chair at barnes and noble
355. for silly blog features to document your duds
356. for strangers compliments
357. for the ability to read magazines for free
358. for sundays

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...

People will read your blog; people you know will read your blog and quite possibly not tell you. I'll save my rant on the "not letting you know" for another day, you're welcome. If anyone is out there thinking, "why golly, this is the vainest thing she's ever done" you're wrong. 99 % sure I've taken stock of every mirror I've ever come in contact with, I'm sure that trumps taking pictures of myself and letting the world see them. Mirror, Mirror on the Wall means I must look at them all, it's grafted into my DNA. I'm pulling a famous Elizabeth tangent. Want to know what I wore? Thought so

I've gone and done it two weeks in a row, waited until Sunday, what I deem the end of the week, to remember, "Hey, I said I'd document one getup a week."

Getup it is, cause I'm always running late and the past two outfits have been get up and GO! Have I mentioned my affinity for cheesiness? Afraid so

Let's call this one Sunday's thoughtless frocks. What I wore churching it and movie-going it, Amen and pass the plate, mama wants a new pair of shoes.

Shirt: banana republic, jeans: j crew, belt: gap (yellow? i know, don't judge she's the only lady up for the challenge) necklace: thrifted, boots: vintage, vanity: free

Tune in later in the week for more vain on Sunday...

Monday, November 8, 2010

Unmovable Grace

Saved by grace, amazing grace, though, I confess I'm not always amazed by it. Sunday's message was on my Savior's crucifixtion, His great suffering. I wonder that my heart doesn't move more, stir more. Sometimes it moves more than others. My heart occasionally responds with emotion and other times with simple knowledge, knowing that His grace is unfathomable.  Grateful that His grace isn't measured by my measly gratitude or earned by my merits. Firmly planted in the cement of His grace only to be moved to heaven where gratefulness will finely be full.
"Oh, bless our God, you peoples! And make the voice of His praise to be heard. Who keeps our soul among the living, and does not allow our feet to be moved..." Psalm 66:8-9 

330. For leaves falling from trees
331. For falls pretty changing leaves
332. For getting out of a meeting 45 minutes early
333. For rice and beans
334. For finishing a big task
335. For wild flowers in the median
336. For peanut butter m&ms
337. For tea at work
338. For red shoes coming in the mail
339. For opportunities to cross things off my yearly list of pursuits
340. For scripture speaking to my situation
341. For macaroni and cheese
342. For knitting
343. For Saturdays to myself
344. For a $0.52 ice cream cone
345. For an apple pie for $0.54
346. For getting to sit with a friend in church
347. For a pastor who his careful to proclaim 'by grace alone'
348. For an extra hour
349. For the light being back in the mornings
350. For glimpsing day light as I wake again
351. For restful, full nights of sleep
352. For feet that cannot be moved from His grace

holy experience