I will bless the Lord at all times;
His praise shall continually be in my mouth.
My soul will make its boast in the Lord;
The humble will hear it and rejoice.
O magnify the Lord with me,
And let us exalt His name together.
I think the best moments are the ones where God laughs with us.
His big belly laugh that say “I knew you’d love this.”
And my giggles that come as unexpectedly as the tears that accompany them, whispering “Man, if only I’d have known how this would turn out.”
I’ve been feeling those laughs lately.
When I sat on the empty living room floor on my second day in Dallas and thought, “What am I doing here?
When I was stopped for a moment between a 4th grade class and a volunteer meeting and caught just a glimpse of 15 kindergarteners utterly captivated by an elderly gentleman with a flannel board – and my heart was full to overflowing.
When I teared up during my 7:45 AM class because in all His graciousness He saw it fit to let me sit in a classroom and learn about His word and His church. Even my fear of Greek couldn’t stem the tide of my praise today.
My God is so good He doesn’t even say “I told you so.”
Lately I’ve been feeling like that 13-year-old that didn’t want to go to camp. (Hear me out on this one.)
It’s the start of a school-free summer and mom and dad want to drag her to camp. She whines and complains because cabins are dirty and this couch is comfy and she’s secretly worried she won’t make any friends.
And they drag her kicking and screaming to camp, knowing all along that it’s exactly what she needs.
And this week was like the day the 13-year-old comes home – all starry eyes and dirty knees, gushing about her counselor and her friends and that canoe that tipped over in muddy water.
And her parents just laugh and smile and they don’t say “I told you so” because they’re just so thrilled that she loved it as much as they knew she would.
I think that’s what God is doing this week – He’s laughing with me. He’s enjoying watching me find out what He knew all along – His plans are greater. Always, always, always.
I know this time won’t last. It will get hard and I’ll doubt His goodness in spite of the overwhelming evidence.
That’s why I have to capture these moments.
I have to bottle up this feeling in the form of words scribbled in a journal, songs or poems, snapshots of a time when my forgetful human heart tasted His grace so fully and truly that it left a mark.
I am here to tell you what I am learning too: write it down, bottle it up, linger in these moments where His grace overwhelms you.
So when the dark and stormy night comes, you will remember – He has been faithful and He will be faithful again.
In all our brokenness and sinfulness, there is so much forgetfulness. My best days seem to last a few moments and my worst days seem to last a lifetime.
So I’m pinching myself. I’m letting myself drink it all in and write it all down because I don’t want to forget. I’m breathing out praise every minute of the day because I know my stubborn heart will be more reluctant once His grace starts looking a little different. When His grace starts coming in the form of difficulties and disappointments, my forgetful heart will be tempted to doubt His goodness.
So I’m pinching myself.
I’m pinching myself because I can’t believe how good it is and I want to believe.
I want to believe it when it’s easiest and store it up for the times it will get harder. I want to seize the moments my sinful heart is most captivated by Him and remember what that feels like, so I can teach my heart to seek it out.
All this awe and wonder at His grace is just too good to let it pass me by, I want to savor it.
So I’m pinching myself to make sure I’m not asleep. No sleepwalking through this time for me.
I want to be awake, with hands wide open and praise always on my lips.