I have a love, a dear one far away.  An invisible bond ties my heart to his, somehow.  Somehow we are part of each other, though doing very different things, though in very different places.  I am incomplete apart from him. Yet I have him even when he's gone.  He's with me, in my heart.  I guess I left part of me with him, and kept part of him with me.  That way we are one together, and together apart, and incomplete without each other.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but only if that heart has once known presence.  I think of the presence of my beloved, and long for it.  Everyday greetings are made special.  Goodbyes are much more meaningful.  A last look in those noble eyes, both confident and vulnerable, knowing and asking, happy and sad, then he goes.  His expression remains.  His beautiful face stays steady before my eyes, though behind my eyes, in the swirling mists of my heart.  My hands tingle for the feel of the solid him.  My eyes look through his reflection, waiting for the true him to cut through his surroundings, to be here.

My eyes are heavy with waiting.  My arms strain for the stress to release at that first hug.  I will fold into him, warm and happy, one with myself and my love.  Then the dance of reunion will begin, with talk and laughs and play and hugs.  Everything will be known, everything made known.  Until our next departure, we will be as normal again.  And then the time will loom, will draw closer, and dare to come.  I will hurry to that last kiss, a sign of loyalty, of love, of attraction, of enduring patience until he comes again.

A scene within the scene of the sun; a traveling therapist sets up a canopy to shade his customers.  Going from place to place, he offers rest and growth.  He helps you see yourself and change.

Go meet him if you're ready.  When seeking help you must prepare for change.  Nervous but expectant, you go.  Out into, you enter.  Shock hits you, but you brace and accept it.  The therapist works, an army of gentle soldiers come falling from the heavens, driving out stress with a hum.

Face the treatment, look upward.  They fall on your face, wake you to feel.  A million little soldiers tap your skin.  You are real.  You can feel.  You are able for something right now.

When his schedule is in order, he is timely, but does not over stay his welcome.  Each town he visits bids him come again before too long.  The ground thanks him for his transformation.  His reputation precedes him, always powerful, always somber.  Without talk he works.  The world and his patients brace to bear the discomfort of treatment.  All is new by the time he is gone.

Spring.  Spring, spring, spring!

I love the sun.  The sun follows the pattern.  The sun is consistent.  Those fickle clouds can hide it when they want, but they can't keep it from angling higher northward in the sky and rising earlier each spring day to vanquish the cold of morning and winter.

Literal tons of snow covered the ground, and lay in mountains not long ago.  I often pondered what it would take to remove one of those piles.  A bulldozer?  A jack hammer?  A crane?  And what damage would the grass and earth suffer?  What repair would it need?  Ah, but the sun!  Leave it to the sun and watch your mountain turn hill turn mound turn bump turn popsicle turn frisbee field, all in a matter of days.  The sun is timely. The sun vanquishes.  The sun stays.  The sun penetrates.  The sun transforms.  It even gardens.

Dawn in spring, my alarm clock from apathy and sleep.  My dreamlike visitor calls my name aloud in the silence of my mind, and beckons me out, out, into the newborn day, come and talk, come weep, come sing, come awaken to new life once again.  In my dreamy haze, I do not see myself donning jeans and tennis shoes.  The woman rushing out has no stained work coat, messy hair or baggy eyes, no.  The voice of the sun creates another picture, of fairy land and princesses.  Long, flowing golden locks swish back on the glowing white night gown and silk-lined cape, as the mysterious someone calls her out to the shadowy mist, for love and everything noble, gentle, and grand.

That soft, piercing pink-orange glow, it somehow forgets all dirt and warts and spring mess.  Instead, the heart, the life, the beauty and curves and lines and contrasts and shadows explode!  Enchantment is reality, and passion beyond measure is everywhere.  The heart of a thing is exposed, and it glows so bright its casing vanishes as the glass of a bulb.  Instantly all people are connected, unhidden, related, helped and hurt, indifferent or zealous, but all flowing together one a river of time.  As the voice of the sun shines in my mind, it does in others, my distant neighbors across the fields, the acquaintances in nearby towns, lost friends a world away.  They seem near, they seem alive and people once again.  Their hearts beat and their days flow as mine, they are one small prayer, one thought, one tear away.

On canvas the sun is hard to recreate.  I think of orange and yellow and the sharp painful light, to which you shield your eyes.  My paints are insufficient.  A bit of yellow mixed with white, the color of lilies, a pale easter yellow, eggshell, then white.  Where is the glow?  Where is the sharpness?  How large must the white be to seem brighter in the center?  It occurs to me that the effect of one's lashes as they shield their eyes plays a part in how brightness appears, but also -- and what I discovered in time to paint it -- was contrast.  The sun's distinguishing characteristic is it's far superior brightness than anything around it.  It's light is the source of all color and shape on the earth.  So the edges of my canvas took on reds and oranges and dark yellows, fading and brightening and reaching straight and unwavering toward one point.  That point, that whiteness had the palest yellow poking into it, reaching, but being extinguished next to the outstretching ball of whiteness.  The effect turned out pretty good, but still nothing compared to the true sun, the cradle and blankets in which God placed this small earth.

, I recently got home from a road trip of reunions with the long lost, the distant, the loved, the missed, the in-law, and the long-distant.  It was a whirlwind of emotion and brief happinesses followed by contemplation and memories.  But I came home hungry again for my regular relationships.  I dove right in.

Dan left yesterday for some very important meetings in the twin cities.  There has been a lot of exciting activity the last month and a half -- even without the holidays.  We've allowed ourselves to dream now, to make plans, to get our hopes up.  He has even started renting a room near Minneapolis to commute to & from Eau Claire and his family.  It's month-to-month, so it can be short-term.  If all goes as we hope, it will be.  Dan's meetings should be over Thursday -- our anniversary.  So, here I wait.

The last couple weeks I've been engrossed in one Harry Potter book, but at Dan's departure I felt the urgency to take a break.  These few days require a lot more prayer and reflection than I'd devoted time to before.

Life changing decisions are being made over there.  A world of opportunity, or not.  I tingle with excitement, while even now bracing for defeat.

It's a special time, this waiting...a sacred time.  The lingering dissident chord before resolution.  I'll think I'll go pray some more...

At the tail end of the holidays, having trickled down to only one relative in the house, all the fun and excitement has turned inward to memories and reflection.  I'm sure you, as I, ponder the good and the bad of the season now gone.  We consider the weight and responsibilities of the season at hand, and there is an element of somberness.

It is during these first two weeks of each year when I find myself in a predictable melancholy.  I rest from the chatter, but become weary in the work.  My body complains and refuses to be energetic, after growing accustomed to rich foods and much sleep.  Most of all, I wake up to the dryness of my soul and neglect of my spirit.  Apparently all the rush and roar succeeded to keep me just a tad too busy for God, once again.  What a fool I was!  It happened again.

Last night I was fed up with the sloth I'd become, and resolved to get back on a healthy routine, in getting up, in exercise, in housework, bookwork, and Bible.  It has been no amazing day.  More than anything I've been tired.  But while reacquainting myself with my neglected radio speakers, I was inspired.

Someone had a guest on their show.  This man told of a sudden sickness and an encounter with God.  I trusted the host, so I turned up the volume and listened.  He spent a night with the Lord, in conversation and communion, in his unconsciousness at the hospital.  When he awoke he remembered the Lord's message.  Don't worry, it was the same message God had been speaking to his heart the last decade or so.

He is a man who runs a car care show on television, "Car Crazy," and he has been slowly slowly responding to God's call in his life, which is the same call to all Christians: share the news.  But there was a specific call he had ignored.  He felt led to reach other lay believers and encourage them to share their faith as well.  For years he ignored this tug on his heart.  Then came a random terrible virus.  Others spoke of not knowing whether this man would even survive.  As the man put it, God got his attention by throwing him down and putting His foot on the man's neck, from which he struggled and wiggled for two weeks and finally was calm.  When he was listening, God spoke to him again.  He was emphatic this time.  Do it now.

But despite the description, he didn't seem upset at all at the experience.  There was joy in this man's voice I don't remember the last time I heard.  Every word brought forth laughter.  You could see the sparkle in his eyes and glow in his cheeks even over the radio.  He said God's people seem weighted down by all the same things as unbelievers.  They become middle aged and complain of lack of purpose and fulfillment.  They get to the end of the day tired and unsatisfied.  This should not be so!

God has given us a purpose!  How can we find purpose outside of obeying God?  Love God with all your heart, all your mind, and all your soul, and love your neighbor as yourself.  Care about their souls, and prepare yourself to give an answer of the hope that is within you.  In this all believers can be filled with joy, from feeling their purpose, their meaning in life.  Our joy comes not from this world, but from God!  And searching the ground, our lives, and our relationships to find it will only make us unhappy.  We knew this when we met the Lord, so know it again.  Don't cling to this life as others do.  Embrace your eternal hope and purpose, and laugh for joy!

It made me smile just listening.

Distraction, forgetfulness, and stress themed this December at the Hobbs' house.  Christmas was neither front nor center.  Family things happened, business things happened, personal things happened...and didn't happen.  In summary, our minds were worn out and I didn't even care enough to decorate for Christmas (Dan didn't either, but that's normal for him).  Could it really be only 2 weeks to Christmas?

I decided to take Christmas for what it really is: a celebration of Christ's birth.  Honestly, to relax my mind, body, and soul enough to enjoy my family's company and remember that night would to me be joy realized.

With that resolution I went on with head higher.  My tasks can be done.  My heart can bear what it needs, to love.  I walked into my Bible study of women (all stressed out from Christmas) and received acceptance, understanding, motivation, and prayer.  Now, with hope and camaraderie I moved forward.

And moving forward, Christmas found me.  In my chance meetings of friends at the store, good messages on Christmas cards, letting Eddy give to a man ringing the bell for the Salvation Army, receiving a box of oranges from a relative, and kind words from loved ones. That birth so long ago in the middle east really did revolutionize the world...and continues to change the world as far as Christ is "born" in the hearts of mankind.  Yes, I am beginning to feel the holiday.

As I write this, the snow begins to flutter down.  The house is getting cleaner and prettier and more festive as the day winds down and points to the arrival of Dan's parents.  That's another thing: the arrival of family.

Look and see Christ around you, and have a very merry Christmas.

I have a personal relationship with God.  It is the greatest joy the world has ever known.  And my relationship with him is as unique as I am.  Let me tell you about it.  

Repentance is to realize that you put something before God, that you've betrayed your king, the one person who gives you your purpose and fulfillment.  It is to finally open your eyes and see the filth, to cry out in anguish, and beg him to cast it away from you, far away.  You want to be clean.

It is to know that he's already paid for your sin and cast them away; you've already been made clean, and you are still.  It is to know that he's given you a new heart, the essence of the 'you' he created you to be, of all your true potential, of everything that would be impossible for you without Christ.

It is to stand with newfound determination and direction and hope.  It is to renew your alliance to your king.  It is to love and follow him once again, yes, and all the more.

I met with my friend Connie yesterday.  Every couple weeks my two former Bible study leaders, Connie & Bonnie, and I go walking together and talk about life.  This week Bonnie couldn't make it and Connie didn't feel like walking, so the two of us just sat on her beautiful porch and conversed.

Connie is about twice my age, has grown children and grandchildren, is a skilled flower gardener, and loves birds. (she's even gotten hummingbirds to sit on her finger!)  And the mystery of her godly legacy and journey continues to unfold every time we meet.  (For example, this week I learned she used to be part of a clown ministry and still keeps her homemade 5-foot long Q-tip in her basement for sentimental reasons!)  I feel privileged to spend time with her.  Though I am blessed to have very insightful and gracious parents and in-laws, there's something special about a relationship unbent by biases or relational complications, an outsider who can see clearly in.

We talked of everything from birdhouses to weddings to sickness to God's ultimate plan for the world, and how faith fits into to it all.  We sat there for three hours just talking.  I was astounded when I saw the time, and thankful for this woman who would take out that time for me.

I have a lot of things to think through today, and some steps to take =)

"And so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled." -Titus 2:4-5

I put Eddy to bed for the third time for his nap.  It was hot and sunny.  I fought discouragement.  My productivity this morning seemed less than satisfactory.  My energy was waning.  I wanted motivation.  I felt like sleeping.  The trees and grass and crickets beckoned me outside and I followed.  I wandered and stomped and sighed.  I searched for passion in my soul again.  I found apathy, weariness, confusion, defeat, then answers.

Of course I know where to find life!  Of course I know all is not lost!  The giver of life calls to the weary, the money-less, the brokenhearted to come and drink from the spring.  I knew to drink from the spring would bring life, but I still felt parched...and in my thirst could not feel the truth I once knew.  So back from my memory I drew.

My Bible lay back in the house.  I hadn't the mind to go the long distance back.  I forced into memory a chapter from my youth -- a wonderful chapter, with many memories attached to it, and many lessons.  Perhaps if I could get through it I would find the strength I needed.

The first few verses slid off my tongue easily, but I stumbled through the next few.  Running back and forth over the following to sort out which came first, I pondered the meaning in the words.  "The law of the spirit of life hath made me free from the law of sin and death..." hmmm... free.  Free to live true life...this life I've experienced a taste of and long for more.  "That the righteousness of the law would be fulfilled in us..." God really does think me special to place such an important purpose on my life.  "but ye are not in the flesh but in the spirit..." "he that raised up Jesus from the dead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by his spirit that dwelleth in you..." The spirit is in me.  He is in me.  He guides me.  "we are the children of God, whereby we cry, 'Abba, Father..." Again, how special, how purposeful, how releaving of fear.  "the whole creation groans and travails in pain together..." "all things work together for good, to them that love God..." "for I reckon that the trials of this present age are not worthy to be compared to the glory which shall be revealed in us" Here there is no denying the trouble, no denying the chaotic mess of pain...but again purpose...plan.  "who shall lay anything to the charge of the elect..." God is my judge.  "we are killed all the day long..." "for I am persuaded that neither death nor life nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Mmmmm...the perfect peace in the knowledge of God's unending love...so much depth and importance to unravel...

I stood in that moment less like a failed mother and woman, and more like a born princess.  Not to say I was any more graceful or pretty or rich, but I had a silent power behind me and I knew it.  I had a royal purpose, a noble purpose...to love as Christ loves...to listen to the Spirit.  I was important to the king, and my attitude impacted those around me.  I knew my place in the world.  I could give and serve without fear.

I walked back.  I was met with our secretary out in the grass, holding Eddy and explaining how he said he wouldn't take his nap.  I sighed and took another path than before.  I faced it, took charge, and showed compassion.

Never underestimate the power of truth learned and lived and remembered.

Sometimes emotional stress gets you down.  For some reason the Lord has chosen to surround me with deaths and grieving loved ones the last couple months, with financial complications to sort out, or relationships, or schedules to wade through, or occupational replacements to find, etc.

Two full days of dealing with such things left me in a haze.  No energy to feel, but about to burst with all the anxiety and questions and frustrations and fears inside.  Going on with life and schedule only deterred the problem.

I came to Eau Claire.  After trying phone calls and hugs and nature, I spied my beloved piano...waiting for me.

The radio got switched off as I nervously approached the instrument with forgetful and out-of-shape hands.  Musical score was not enough.  I have nor can play no song as intense and complex as I felt today.  It would have to be something new.  I warmed up with a favorite scale: G flat major.  And beginning with G flat, I played a small slow melody, a tiny emerging thought amid the silence of aloneness, that quietly faded back into the silence.  Another thought emerged, and another, until too many memories and aches were crowding each other out with austere, depressing chords and rhythms of frantic searching.  A breath of calm, stolen away by new thoughts and desires, dashed hopes of the future, and screams of anger.  A spinning blind searching of what to do, with no clear answers.  A good memory or practical thought is spelled out deliberately to combat this despair, but only turn sour and bring back the storm.  Between each thought, each cry, each flood of emotion, silence reigns, tormenting the soul.  Finally, exhausted, regret and anger submit to calm and life.  God  shows up.  In a version of Amazing Grace, he stills the storm and brings to light his promises, his gifts, and what really matters.  A true sigh of relief follows, then stillness, this time not of torment but of peace.

Never again to be played or recorded, my one-time song expressed and unwound my knotted thoughts and emotions.  Still raw and tired, I know now how to resolve.  I heard and perceived the heart of the problem and its answer for today, as I talked it out, in my heart language of wordless music.

Where your ear leads you, speak in that medium.  Perhaps your confusion lies in using a foreign tongue.

to sing and dance ... to step to the beat ... to bend and groove ... get the heart goin'... to lift your mood ... to smile a bit ... to close your eyes, tilt back your head, and breathe!  Jump and spin!  Run around!  Find a partner!  Pull them in!  to get lost in rhythm ... to relish a melody ... savor the feeling...of singing aloud.  to listen and sway ... to harmonize ... to recognize beauty ... to remember the Lover ... to forget all troubles ... to cherish His goodness ... to lose track of time ...

Anyone who knows my family's business knows that we are busy this time of year.  The stress over the last month has taken its toll on me, my husband, and my son, exhausting our strength physically, mentally, and emotionally.  Our relationships have become more distant and more difficult.  It was in this vein that Eddy and I went to church on Sunday morning.  Daniel was way behind in his work for the week, and had to miss church to finish treating a cemetery in Eau Claire.  

I checked Eddy in to Sunday school and wandered back through the halls, scanning the crowds for someone I knew.  I spotted a couple familiar faces, all engaged in deep conversations already. 'I guess I'll just find a seat.' Meandering slowly across the foyer, through an auditorium door, down an aisle, I noticed the second row in the center. Empty. Perfect. There was a pit in my stomach as I sat down. Soon others sat around me. Oh, well. The music started.  In turn, I joined in singing, greeted strangers around me, prayed aloud and silently, and sat to hear announcements, then the pastor's message.  It was good.  It seemed important. But it wouldn't sink in.  I couldn't make myself believe it in my heart, though I wanted to.  Halfway through the message, it began to compute -- living a life bigger than myself, not hoarding things I desire, but focusing on God, and thereby receiving all the blessings he would like to show me.  I thought of beautiful nature, of relationships, of new friends, of my church, of my nice house, my family, our business successes, of the cross, and other things.  But it didn't make me feel better.  I didn't feel blessed.   I felt confused, foggy, alone, weak.  At the closing music I was lost in my thoughts and out of touch with those around me.  I caught myself missing the offering bag completely, as the usher had to reach around me to hand it to another person, oops.  I closed my eyes.  The service ended.

I sat contemplating.  I waited for my Bible study leader to finish a conversation before she could talk to me about a group walk we had scheduled.  Looking around the emptying room I spotted a friend. She looked sad.  She walked toward me.  She was looking for a pastor to talk to.  She told me her troubles, her desires, her life situation.  I told her mine.  For her this was an important week.  For me it was, too.  We were at a loss for what to do, feeling the same, but under very different burdens.  A hug, a Scripture, questions, and suggestions finished our conversation.  We exchanged numbers and went to speak with our respective respected teachers.

We agreed to speak on the phone every day this week.  On Monday the first call time arrived.  We shared the help we received from our leaders.  We rejoiced in it, and prayed together.  Tuesday we shared our encouragements and insights, our struggles and prayer requests.  Wednesday we were both in a fog, and prayed to God, praising him for his goodness, and reminding each other of his love.  Thursday's call is fast approaching.  I wait for my few minutes with my friend, my connection with Eau Claire, my call to live the bigger life, to be a help and ask for help...to live beyond myself.

I started this blog to catalog my positive experiences and perspectives in order to gain a more positive attitude toward life.  Unfortunately right now my mind is too clouded with so many baffling circumstances to tune in to the beauty I'm sure is around me, so all I can say to the positive is this:

When nothing else makes sense, find hope in the trustworthiness of God.

I've been hesitating to write anything here since the tragedy at work Monday. Covering up Ken's memory with other things really scared me...since that's all we still have of him.  It's been a hard and strange week. Eddy has become so familiar with Dan's and my moods that every time he sees us sad, or crying, or quiet, he asks, "You sad 'cuz Ken went away?"  I hope the funeral, this Monday, helps how we feel. At least we'll get to know Ken's family better, and hear some new things about him, and be allowed to converse openly about how we all miss him so much.  Dan has had a worse time than I have, because he was so close to Ken, and especially because he had to finish Ken's route from Monday, he had to redistribute Ken's scheduled jobs, and he had to find (gulp) a replacement. Then he had to work an extra day to catch up on everything.

For me this week has been a stirring of emotions and thoughts.  Disbelief, denial, anger, despair, confusion, and searching have all played their parts in the story of my thoughts, a story that has gradually changed through the hours. I sometimes fight recovery in fear of forgetting, but I know God is in the recovery, and I can trust him.  I've come to some conclusions in my mind, which I hope to act upon: Though Ken's time is through, my life is still going, and to not continue in life would be to deny God's will for me.  Everyone lives for a short time and dies; in the span of history it's not whether you died that shapes your story, but what you did while you lived.  We could have our own memorial service to speak openly about our friend, draw our attention to our mortality, and to God. And we should take our employees up on their invitations to dinner and such -- something we should've done with Ken and his boys, then it wouldn't have been so awkward now.

Life...goes...on...and each day we change.

I am a nature person.  Strike that. I am a garden and greenhouse girl.  I love love love working in the dirt and sun, smelling plants, hearing birds, and creating and pampering something into paradise.  I'm AWFUL at houseplants.  But give me a flowerbed and a hose, and I'm in heaven.  Perhaps I will have my very own garden oasis some day, but for now I'll be happy with maintaining and hopefully transforming my landlady's already nicely prepared space.  Let's see if I can raise her home value just a tiny bit by October (and get loads of flowers and veggies out of it for myself).

Today I woke up on the wrong side of the bed...Okay, let's just say it.  I was depressed.  Overnight my life seemed to be crashing down on me, I was emotionally useless and couldn't snap out of it.  Thanks to my caring (albeit sick and out of it) husband, it occurred to me to fiddle in the garden.  "It's a large property.  There's bound to be something more to do.  Just look around."  I did and there was.  As when I was a teenager and went to work at a local greenhouse WHEN I was sick, TO feel better, so I felt today.

I gardened through Eddy's nap, and slowly, quietly, as I worked, I breathed.  I thought calmly. I worked.  I pulled every single microscopic weed there was in that bed. My heartbeat slowed.  I came back in for Eddy and he joined me.  Even in the stress of motherhood during a difficult day for Eddy too, I was rejuvenated. I had fun!  We had fun.  We even took a break to sit by a tree and watch our neighbor drive a tractor around and feed cows.  Eddy appreciated that.

Give me more garden days this summer, and I will be happier.

I went to see a friend in the hospital yesterday. She was there for her husband, who's been battling Leukemia the last 8 months (they got married only 10 months ago). My visit was a rare and special one because the hospital is 100 miles away and Daniel needs our car a lot for business. But someone else needed me to drive their car down, Eddy had a birthday party to attend in that town, and we just happened to know a couple driving back to Eau Claire from there yesterday afternoon. All the pieces fell into place and I went down.

I didn't know what I would do or say, exactly, just that I should go. I hadn't heard much from her, and I wanted to give her strength, if I could, just by being there, doing the best I could to help carry the emotional burden, helping her open up. Letting her know I was praying...I don't know. I wanted to help somehow. Perhaps I did. But I know she helped me.

We sat in a window lined lobby as rain pelted down on the gray downtown streets outside. She was exhausted. Very little sleep, catching up with work, and trauma can do that to a person. We talked about all sorts of things, caught up, and discussed things on our minds. Sometimes we just sat there. I began to open up to some burdens on my mind, and when I did I was returned not with the expected nod or condolences, but cutting words of wisdom. Words of experience. Words of gold. She had seen the fire and realized God was still there. He didn't always make sense, but He doesn't have to.  It helped that she has a "high ambiguity tolerance"--kinda straightens out my over-calculating tainted perfectionism =) Eventually we left, me to my schedule, she to her sleep. But as I darted through the chilly rain, my mind was full. I knew more how to pray for my friend, and I knew more how to live life. I felt at once shame, and gratitude, and sorrow, and purpose. My friend had given me perhaps more than I gave her.

This experience drives me to prayer, to guarding my thoughts, to selfless obedience. I can't explain it well, but I thank and pray for my dear friend.

Blogs are really lame when they don't change. I'm sure you noticed that from this blog, the last week+. Even if a post is really cool (which I do not presume to say any of mine are), it loses all attraction if it doesn't soon precede a newer post. Even if the newer post is worse than the older, it is preferred, because we want and expect the blog to change. No change, no viewers.

Thank you for being so patient with me during my absence. It was a much needed time of re-prioritizing and changing of habits at home, and I think I used it well, for the most part. But I am happy to be back, expressing the joy of life...and of change.

Life is change. If there is no change, there is no life. Maybe that's why we want to see blogs changing so much--they're supposed to reflect life.  Furthermore, if you can't see the joy in change, you soon won't see the joy in life. Get too caught up with one really cool post in life and you will miss out on the entire blog. On the other hand, see change as a good thing, and it'll be a lot easier to rejoice in life, in any situation. I'm learning that now.

So much is changing in my life. Where I live, what my job is, who my friends are, how I relate to people, what my goals are -- in my family, with friends, with church involvement, and with the future.  In similar scenes and challenges, I find I have a new outlook than I did a year ago, 3 months ago, even a week ago. I've a new attitude on life, new experiences, new voices in my head, new solutions. This change presents me with brand new opportunities...opportunities to help someone in a new way, to use my added knowledge for more effectiveness, and to draw from experience to obey God quicker and more fully. The changes also help to keep life interesting. There is always some new thing to conquer.

In recognizing the blessing of change, I'm learning to enjoy my circumstances so much more, and agonize over the pain so much less. The pain will soon be over, so why worry? And the good will soon be over, so seize it while you can...but in doing so, don't forget that it, too, will go away, and that's a good thing.

Thank you, Lord, for change, for the end of this day, for sleep, and bright hope for tomorrow. Good night.

God sure does work in mysterious ways. We're called to draw close to him, talk to him and study his Word everyday, but praying and reading for the sake of saying we've done it leaves us lower and farther from him than ever before. We know that nothing we can do can change God's perfect plan, but on the other hand, doing what God tells us to do affects how we feel and act toward others. And prayer works.

Some things are just beyond my comprehension...but not beyond my obedience.

Dan & I have been enjoying evening prayer meetings where God teaches us to be sincere, open, honest, united, dependent, trusting, caring and full of faith. God answers, leads, and most significantly, he reveals himself to us.

Happiness is... prayer.