Wisdom for Wednesdays

"Perhaps the opposite of faith is not doubt. Perhaps the opposite of faith is fear. To lack faith perhaps isn't as much an intellectual disbelief in the existence of God as fear and distrust that there is a good God."

-One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp

Snapshots of Summer: Week 1

My favorite barista (none other than my little bro) serving a kiwi-lime Italian soda

My Daddy's Hands

My hand slipped into the larger, work-worn hand offered beside me as we bowed in prayer before a family meal. It was comforting, strong, secure.

My dad’s hand.

Earlier that same day after a crazy-fun wakeboarding trip, he held his hand out to me as I stepped off the rocking boat onto the dock. Safety. Protection. Caring.

Worn yet strong from years of labor, these hands. Fixing cars, restoring old ones (and driving them!), the maintenance of a home inside and out. (…and the home of a daughter who knows next-to-nothing about fixing things!)

These hands. Throwing the ball for our little Micah-dog; gripping the rope handle while wakeboarding behind the boat (this oh-so-cool, 50-something dad); mowing my yard to surprise me; texting me to wish me a good day; handing me the local newspaper you saved just because you know I like it; your fingers tiptoeing across my hair from behind to get a reaction from this spider-fearing girl.

These hands that taught me how to drive stick shift, how to drive a boat and a motorcycle (you brave passenger!), how to swing a bat and wash a car and check my oil and make straw-colate shakes and work hard and hold-on-for-dear-life on a roller coaster.

The hands that set up the camper for family vacations as well as drew routes on the atlas for my own road trips. That turn up the radio when a meaningful Christian music song comes on (or a Christian rock one!). That shoot hoops with college-age kids and still give them a run for their money.

These same hands that fold in prayer, slide along a rosary, hold mom’s hand, hug your kids, and make your grandson giggle.

How beautiful.

These strong yet tender, protective, capable hands remind me of someone else’s….

The mighty and loving Hands of God.

Thank you for being a reflection of my Heavenly Father.

And thank you for being an amazing earthly dad.

Happy Father’s Day. I love you.

Wisdom for Wednesdays

"Each of us is the result of a thought of God. Each of us is willed, each of us is loved, each of us is necessary. There is nothing more beautiful than to be surprised by the Gospel, by the encounter with Christ. There is nothing more beautiful than to know Him and to speak to others of our friendship with Him."

-Pope Benedict XVI

This Jesus

A year and a half ago I opened my worn Bible to the beginning of the Gospel of Matthew. Tonight I finished the last chapter of the Gospel of John.

My motive that fall in turning to the Gospels was one of hope with a touch of desperation—or maybe the other way around. In a lake of confusion and intense pain, I reached for a Jesus I could trust to pull me out of the waters and help me walk once again.

And in the pages of the four Gospels, I found him. This Jesus.

This Jesus who healed the ones who felt small. The ones who were blind, lame, bleeding, and sinful.

This Jesus who taught with such a passion and earnestness. With a desire for His listeners to learn and grow and live an abundant life (John 10:10). He didn’t shy from truth—He was truth. His words were not always easy to take or to live. He asked us to take up a cross, but He would be there to lead.

This Jesus who became friends with mere humans. Who loved them, ate with them, laughed with them, wept for them. Even though He was God and so infinitely above us in every way.

He was so real and so close.

When I struggled with the intangible, I found comfort that this was who God was. He came to earth as a human so we could see Him, hear Him, maybe reach for the hem of His garment…or be embraced by His loving arms. He understood our limits as humans but treated us with patience and compassion.

I was drawn to Him. How could anyone not be? This amazing Son of God with His strength, courage, mercy, wisdom. His attention and care for His people on earth as He lived among them stirred me. His life. His death. And His rising. All so very powerful. And true. Something certain and solid to hold onto.

Life-saving.

This Jesus. My Jesus.

Our Jesus.

Wisdom for Wednesdays

"A nail is driven out by another nail; habit is overcome by habit."

-Erasmus, qtd. in One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp

Life is Beautiful...

-on a sunny Sunday, lounging on the deck with my family.

-digging in the damp, rich earth, pulling weeds and planting tomato plants grown from seeds by a friend.

-sipping Dragon Pearl Jasmine iced tea with my roomie at our favorite coffee shop.

-making homemade strawberry jam for the first time...and then sampling it!

-wakeboarding behind the boat for the first time this season and conquering my utter terror hesitation.

-when my Micah runs to greet me with his expressive chocolate eyes and forever-wagging tail.

-being inspired by our new African priest, Father C., so vibrant with joy and love and passion for our Lord and His Church.

-being suprised by half a dozen deer meandering in the field behind our duplex, so calm and so graceful.

-trying out my oh-so-cool (or maybe not-so-much) dance moves on my brother's Xbox Kinect. (did I spell that right, gamers?)

-with breathtaking summer sunsets painted by a gracious God.

-rejoicing in the Easter season, celebrating the Ascension of our Lord, and looking ahead to the Feast of Pentecost next week.

-knowing the Holy Spirit still descends upon us, reaching deep into our hearts, our minds, our souls...convicting, stirring, embracing, and filling us with such grace and joy if we let Him in.