Walk with Me

Music from the Heart: Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield

A few years ago, three friends and I (the core leadership team of what is now The River Fort Smith, an outreach church), felt a pressing need to get away for a few days to refresh, recharge, reconnect. So the four us piled into the car and headed to St. Louis to attend the Joyce Meyer Women's Conference. We jokingly called it our "Elders Retreat," but it quickly became a weekend filled with laughter, tears and memorable moments, with laughter presiding. Way before the weekend was over, we all knew this girly getaway was destined to become an annual event.

We have since left our mark on Tulsa & Branson. This year we made our trek through the Ouachita National Forest to Hot Springs Village for three days of doing absolutely nothing. It was glorious.

In terms of personality and life experiences, we are about as diverse a group as you can get, which is probably why we enjoy each other so much - and definitely why we need each other so much. But when it comes to a desire to bring hope, healing and restoration to hurting people, we share a strong and common passion. We are girlfriends and partners in ministry.

We have laughed together, cried together, made fun of each other, even hurt and forgiven each other. We have worshiped together, prayed together, and ministered shoulder to shoulder. We have seen each other at our best and our worst, from dressing up for a "Putting on the Ritz" dinner event to lounging in wrinkled pajamas with bed hair & no make-up. We have counseled each other, corrected each other and cheered each other on. These relationships are real, rich & genuine, and I wouldn't trade them for the world.

Back to Hot Springs Village this past weekend. This was a no-agenda, all-diets-are-off, total chill-time weekend with the girls. On Saturday, it was after 4 o'clock in the afternoon before we shed our pajamas and got dressed to go out for a little nature walk. It was a perfect autumn afternoon in Arkansas - a warm sun peeking through leaves of orange, red & gold, playful squirrels at every turn, and the unmistakably nostalgic rustling sound made only by feet shuffling through the leaves that have already found their way to the ground. It was perfect.

Being a photo junkie, a nature walk doesn't happen in my world without a camera. I managed to snap several shots of multicolored leaves, trees & sunlight reflected on the lake, and even a couple of a squirrel who agreed to pose for me. But my favorite picture is one that I caught when I lagged behind the other ladies while they walked ahead on the hillside path. It captures three friends walking side-by-side on life's journey, drawing strength and comfort from the presence of each other. While this picture may be found lacking in quality in terms of photographic excellence, it is priceless to me because of its content.

One of our little entourage is headed to MD Anderson in Houston next week for surgery. She will remain there for about a month, then recover for two more months at home before returning to work in February. Over the weekend, we presented her with a Healing Basket filled with all kinds of goodies - soft fluffy socks, candles, healing worship music, teaching CD's, her favorite candy, comfort foods, bath & body stuff, framed photos of the four of us, and a wide variety of other trinkets & tokens of our friendship. We also gave her a stack of get well cards, to be opened one per day while she is in Houston. Some contain inspirational messages or prayers, but most of them are designed to invoke laughter, which we all know is the best medicine for whatever ails you.

We are trusting our precious sister/friend to the capable skills of some of the leading specialists in the country But even more so, we are trusting her to the healing hands of the Great Physician, Who also just happens to be the One who designed and created her, knows her best and loves her most. She will walk through this experience with the three of us at her side, laughing, crying, whatever it takes to bring her through to the other side of this. And as soon as she is up to it, we have next year's trip to plan.

"Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.
Don't walk behind me, I may not lead.
Just walk beside me and be my friend."

Albert Camus

In The Garden

I've stated in prior posts that I often wake up in the morning with a song in my spirit. This morning, it was the old hymn, "In The Garden."

In April of 1912, hymn-writer C. Austin Miles was alone in the dark room where he kept his photographic equipment and organ. As he opened his Bible, it opened to the 20th chapter of John - the post-resurrection encounter between Jesus and Mary Magdalene. Mr. Miles wrote of a vision he had that day, describing the scene in great detail.  

"My hands were resting on the Bible while I stared at the light blue wall. As the light faded, I seemed to be standing at the entrance of a garden, looking down a gently winding path, shaded by olive branches."

He goes on to share what he saw, ending with:  

"I awakened in sunlight, grip­ping the Bible, with muscles tense and nerves vibrating. Under the inspiration of this vision I wrote as quickly as the words could be formed the poem exactly as it has since appeared. That same evening I wrote the music."

Mary was distraught as she approached the tomb that morning. She so longed to be near to Jesus (even what she expected to be His lifeless body), that she could not even wait until daylight. She went while it was still dark. Seeing the stone removed from the entrance of the tomb, she ran to tell Peter & John that someone had taken His body.

The men came and saw for themselves that He was gone, and they went home. But Mary stayed. 

She was not ready to let go. Her heart was so intertwined with the person of Jesus that she could not bring herself to leave that spot, the last place she had known Him to be. 

After a brief conversation with two angels, Mary is addressed by another man, whom she assumes to be the gardener. She does not recognize Him to be the Lover of her soul. Not yet. But then she heard His voice. He uttered to her a single word, the first word He spoke after being resurrected from the dead (at least as far as we know from Scripture). With the utterance of a single word, Jesus made Himself known to her.

He only said one word. Her name. "Mary," He said.

Immediately Mary recognized His voice and turned to Him. The emotion that must have welled up inside her as she heard that familiar, sweet, comforting, powerful voice call her by name. I imagine that her eyes opened wide and her breath caught in her chest as she realized that it was Him.
 
May we all find the same sweet, intimate and deep relationship with Jesus that Mary had. The kind of relationship where even when we don't recognize Him in the circumstances of our lives, His voice is familiar enough to us that when we hear it, we know it is Him, turning to Him as Mary did.

IN THE GARDEN

by C. Austin Miles

     I come to the garden alone,

While the dew is still on the roses;

And the voice I hear, falling on my ear,

The Son of God discloses.

      

And He walks with me, and He talks with me,

And He tells me I am His own;

And the joy we share as we tarry there,

None other has ever known.

      

He speaks, and the sound of His voice

Is so sweet the birds hush their singing,

And the melody that He have to me

Within my heart is ringing.

"The sheep that are My own hear 
and are listening to My voice; 

and I know them, and they follow Me." 

John 10:27 (Amplified)

Grimy Smudges & Glorious Reality

Music from the Heart: My Heart Your Home by Watermark


"Live in me. Make your home in me just as I do in you."    -John 15:4 (The Message)



The words of Jesus are are simple, profound, and life-altering. They challenge everything we think we know, and the truth we find in them sets us free from everything that would keep us outside the place He has designed for us to inhabit: a place in Him.

These words are no exception. Jesus Himself has invited us to live in Him - to move in, settle in and make ourselves at home there. We, in all our fumbling, stumbling, bumbling imperfection, have been extended a personal invitation from the King of Glory to come and dwell not only with Him, but IN HIM. He's not worried about us leaving our dirty fingerprints on the walls or grimy smudges on everything we touch. He welcomes it.

He invites us to this place because He loves us. We accept the invitation because we know that no grander opportunity can ever be presented to us - to be welcomed into the heart and home of God Himself as one of His own. He cleans us up, dresses us in fine clothes, gives us His name, and shares with us all that He is and all that He has, holding nothing back.

No more wandering through the dark streets of this life aimless, hopeless, lost and alone. We have been adopted into His family. We have been found and given a home and a hope. We have become the picture of restoration. The Creator of all things has reconciled us to Himself, calling us His own.

If you don't do anything else today, wrap your heart around this glorious reality - you belong to Him and in Him. He belongs to you and in you. Home just took on a whole new meaning.

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; 

the old has gone, the new has come! 

All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ 

and gave us the ministry of reconciliation ..."

2 Corinthians 5:17-18

The Inner Sanctum

Music from the Heart: Sarabande by George Frideric Handel

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. For six days He engaged in the most unfathomable expression of creative power that ever existed. From galaxies to grasshoppers, He designed the universe in intricate detail. Then, on the seventh day, He rested.

Well, I'm not one to mess with a good thing, so in the spirit of following His example (not to mention His instruction) of a day of rest, I typically indulge in a Sunday afternoon nap. It's been said that Sunday afternoon naps are the best sleep you get all week. I can't argue with that.

And so it was that today after lunch I made my way to the bedroom to engage in a little Sunday slumber. There is something about walking into my bedroom that makes the rest of the world seem to slip into the background. It's like stepping through that threshold causes both body and spirit to let out a deep sigh of relief.

It's summertime, and in our part of the country, that means air-conditioners and fans. In our home, that means some combination thereof produces just the right mix of cool, conditioned air blowing across the bed. Following my usual routine, I laid down, picked up a book from the nightstand and began to read. After only a few pages, the steady hum of the box fan blended with the rhythmic spinning of the ceiling fan to produce a lullaby I could not resist.

The book slips out of my hands onto the bed, and I am out.

Why am I telling you this? Here's why. To me, my bedroom is like a sanctuary, an inner sanctum where I can escape from distractions and worries and chores and to-do-lists. It is to me a place of rest and peace that is to be guarded and protected. There is no television and no phone, and when I lay down for my special Sunday afternoon rest, I typically leave the cell phone in the other room. I don't want this time to be disturbed.

I don't invite just anyone into my bedroom. When you come to my house, you will be greeted and welcomed into the "family" areas of the home, and you might be shown the bedroom as part of the "grand tour" if you have never been here before. But if you are invited into my bedroom to linger and talk, then you are on a short list of close and personal friends with whom I am comfortable sharing this sacred place.

The dictionary defines a sanctum like this: a sacred or holy place, an inviolably private place or retreat.

Just like my bedroom is a private and personal place in my home, there is also an inner sanctum within my heart - a place where only I and One other are allowed to go - a place that is to be guarded and protected. It is a secret place where He and I meet, and where He expresses His heart to me and I bare my heart and my soul to Him.

What's in your inner sanctum? Is it a place of rest and peace? Is it free from distractions and clutter? How often do you go there? Do you go alone or do you frequently invite Him to meet you there?

I encourage you to spend as much time there as possible. Time spent in the inner sanctum, the holy place with Him, is time well spent, and it is vital to the furtherance of His kingdom, both in you and through you.

"I am the vine; you are the branches.
If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit;
apart from me you can do nothing."
John 15:5

The Heartbeat of God

It's late at night, and the house is quiet. Well, nearly quiet. The only sounds are the whirring of the ceiling fan, the clicking of the computer keys, and in the background, the soft strains of gentle, meditative worship music.

There is a deep longing in my heart tonight as I have come to this quiet place at His feet once again. It is not uncommon for my time with Him to be marked with tears, and tonight is no exception. They are tears of surrender as I lay my dreams before Him, trusting them to Him yet again. There are deep desires in my heart that long for fulfillment so desperately that the longing itself is almost painful.

It seems that my biggest struggle is that I keep trying to cause my dreams to be fulfilled in my own wisdom and strength. I know better, but I still work tirelessly to accomplish what He has already promised He would accomplish in and through me. Why can't I stop?

His voice whispers to me, "Do you trust Me?"

My heart replies, "I want to."

He pulls me close to Him. My head is buried in His chest as sobs overtake me and I exhale for the first time in what seems like months.

"What do you hear?" He asks. I listen closely for His heartbeat. I am not prepared for what I hear.

With a slow and steady rhythm, the beating of His heart begins to grow louder and louder in my ears.

"I love you - I love you - I love you," it says.

I am left speechless in His arms. The insistent reassurance of this simple truth is enough. He loves me. Really loves me. His heart literally beats with His love for me.

Nothing else matters.

I have found a place in His heart that is reserved only for me. It has my name on it. From eternity past to the infinite days of forever that lie ahead, no other person has ever or will ever hold this place in His heart. It is mine, and mine alone.

This is what it means to dwell in Him. I never want to leave this place. It is my safety, my refuge, my secret place. This is where I can be myself more than anywhere else. This is where there is no judgment, only joy - no ridicule, only release. This is where the green pastures meet the quiet waters. This is home. This is where I belong.

Selah.

"Call to me and I will answer you
and tell you great and unsearchable things
you do not know."
Jeremiah 33:3

He Is Faithful

Music from the Heart: Faithful To The End by Hillsongs

I am often overwhelmed by the goodness and faithfulness of God. When I stop and take account of even some of the countless ways He has proven Himself faithful to me again and again, I cannot help but respond with the tearful silence of a grateful heart that is humbled by His love.

I was in a conversation this week with a co-worker, and I found myself sharing a story from my past with her. It is one of my most precious memories of the darkest, most gut-wrenching time of my life. In the spirit of freedom that comes from genuine forgiveness, I will not share the details here. But the long and short of it is this:

My heart was broken. Everything inside me wanted to run away and hide, but my need to connect with a safe place to heal was more desperate than the intensity of my shame and pain. It was a Sunday morning, and I got in my car, not knowing where to go, but knowing I needed to be in church somewhere. I found myself in front of a church whose pastor I had known since high school and where I had attended several years earlier.

I waited until the service was well underway so I could slip in with as little notice as possible. I did not want to talk to anyone or answer any questions about what was going on in my life that had turned my world upside down. I just wanted to sit and soak in the worship and maybe the message. I literally sat in the last seat of the last row nearest the door and had every intention of making a beeline for the door as soon as the service was over. I told the Lord that if He wanted me to talk with the pastor, then to have him come to me.

As soon as the service was over, the pastor was standing in front of me before I could make my planned exit. He asked me two questions. First, he asked me how I was doing. I lowered my head to hide the tears welling up in my eyes, despite my best effort to keep them at bay. He asked one more question (more direct) and quickly discerned the source of my pain by my wordless response. He then took me in his arms and held me as I cried on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he said.

So here it is, twelve years later, and I still cannot recount this story without tears. But now my tears are not because of the pain in my heart, because that has been healed. The tears that accompany this story now are the natural response of an overwhelmed, formerly broken heart to the sweet grace and limitless love of a personal God who gave me what I needed when I needed it. When I felt like I was literally going under, He threw me a lifeline in the discerning eye and fatherly embrace of a pastor who had recently lost his youngest child (a daughter, age 10) to cancer. That was the moment my healing began.

Over the years I have lost count of the times when I have been able to speak into the hurting hearts of broken women with the compassion and wisdom that only come from having walked the path they now find themselves on. It is the faithfulness of God to be true to His character and His word that carried me through a long and deep healing process. When I felt most alone and my days were the darkest, I kept returning to the knowledge that He loves me and He is faithful. He has proven it to me again and again.

And He will do the same for you.

Not to us, O LORD, not to us but to your name be the glory,
because of your love and faithfulness.
Psalm 115:1

Martha Gets a Time Out

Music from the Heart: Deep In Love With You by Michael W. Smith

From my journal (today's entry):

I’ve stayed home from church today in a desperate attempt to find some quality time at the feet of Jesus. I miss Him so much. Once again I have allowed so many other “worthy” endeavors to crowd my days, my mind and my heart that there has been little room left for the One whose heart beats passionately for me.

My heart is swimming with a mix of emotions: sorrow over having caused Him even the slightest twinge of pain; an ever-deepening appreciation for His grace as I experience, yet again, His comforting embrace, holding me close as we reconnect; an overwhelming sense of His love for me – that unconditional, tender, intense love that I have come to find familiar and life-giving.

Once again, I am crumbled in tears at His feet, longing for a return to the sweet intimacy that we have shared so many times before. The Martha in me, being the strong, focused, admittedly controlling administrator, too often takes center stage, leaving Mary unobtrusively waiting in the wings.

Today, at least for this moment, I am Mary.

Mary. That is such a simple, common name for a woman who in one moment quietly made a choice that placed her at the feet of Jesus, and who without a word demonstrated worship in its purest form. Surrounded by things that needed to be done and people who wanted her to do them, Mary set her gaze on the face of Jesus. She sat down on the floor at His feet and listened to Him as He shared His heart. Worship doesn’t get any more simple and pure than that – wordless wonder as we look on His face and listen to His voice.

This is where I find myself this morning. Surrounded by the stuff of life, with a to-do-list that borders on being shamefully long, I have chosen to take these precious hours today to spend at His feet. I must. I am desperate. Like the dry summer ground is currently thirsting for rain, my soul is screaming for a deluge of His presence to come and sweep me away into an ocean of more. I’m ready to get wet.

So here I am, sitting on the living room floor, with the music of fellow psalmists and minstrels filling the room with a sweet atmosphere of worship. They sing songs of surrender and abandon, songs that tell of His grace, mercy and love, leaving me to sit and listen. Bible, pen, paper, and Kleenex are close-by.

Martha is getting a “time-out.” This is Mary’s moment.

“She (Martha) had a sister called Mary,

Who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what He said.”

Luke 10:39

Chocolate or Vanilla?

Music from the Heart: Every Move I Make by Passion Worship Band

It's a little after three AM, and I was awakened by a dream a little while ago. Actually, I woke up almost singing.

I lead worship for an outreach church called The River Fort Smith. The River is a sister church of City Christian Fellowship, which we sometimes refer to as the "mother ship." I played with the CCF worship team for a while before my hand was seriously injured in a rollover accident in May of 2006. It was nearly a year before I was able to play again, and several more months before I was able to play for any length of time. Since then, the Lord brought other keyboard players into the mix, and I was free to fully pursue my true passion: providing a meaningful worship experience for the precious people of The River.

In my dream this morning, I was at a rehearsal of the CCF worship team, sitting near the keyboard player, observing. I had the opportunity to sing with the background vocalists if I wanted to. I was sitting there pondering whether or not I wanted to sing with the group or just enjoy the worship service from the congregation. The reasons for and against singing with the team that morning kept rolling over in my head, and I woke up before I made a decision. I woke up singing, "Every Move I Make."

I believe that what the Lord was showing me was that sometimes we are faced with choices that we struggle with in our desire to find the perfect will of God. In our effort to step only into that perfect will, we hesitate to make any move at all for fear of it being the wrong one, so we do nothing.

Granted, there are some decisions we must make when a clear direction one way or the other is necessary and we must seek His will and be obedient. But other times we are faced with options that are equally good and beneficial, and we will be blessed in whichever one we choose.

When we are walking in true freedom and in close relationship with Him, we are sensitive to His voice and leading. We KNOW when He is pulling us back, saying, "No, don't go there." We can also know that sometimes He says, "Here, you can choose either of these, and whichever you want is fine with Me." It's like being asked, "Which kind of ice cream do you want - chocolate or vanilla?"

Legalism binds. Relationship brings freedom. Jesus showed us the difference in John 15:15 when he said, "I no longer call you servants ... instead, I have called you friends." In the same chapter, He instructed us to abide in Him. When we are in Him, we can know true freedom because we know where the boundaries are. It's like children on a fenced-in playground, free to run anywhere inside the fence. They can choose to play on the monkeybars or the swings or the merry-go-round.

The encouragement here is this: don't take life so seriously that you over-spiritualize every little aspect of it and miss out on the pure joy of just being in relationship with Him. Take your relationship with Him seriously and don't trivialize it; but enjoy the freedom to run and play and dance and be His child. It's His heart for you. Something to ponder until next time ...

"The LORD your God is with you,
he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
he will quiet you with his love,
he will rejoice over you with singing."
Zephaniah 3:17

Morning Desire

Music from the Heart: Draw Me Lord by Selah

Closeness. It is a state of being near to something or someone. The closeness that beckons me this morning is not a geographic position, but a nearness to Someone who I can't seem to get close enough to.

There is a longing in me that will not be quieted - a desire so deep that it permeates every cell in me, making my heart ache for more. Will I ever be able to get enough of Him? My spirit screams out a resounding, "Never!"

I want to crawl up into His lap and lay my head on His chest, and be lulled to sleep by the beating of His heart - to feel His arms securely and gently wrapped around me, holding me close. I want to feel His breath on my ear as He whispers His love to me, telling me of dreams and plans He has for me. I want to feel the moistness of His kiss on my cheek and see the light in His eyes as He gazes on me, His girl.

In these quiet early morning hours, when sleep has slipped away and the first light of dawn is still just a dream, my heart is yearning for Him with such a fierce passion that it takes my breath away. My heart is gripped with an almost painful longing to see the face of the One who knew me intimately before I drew my first breath.

The anticipation of time alone with Him is almost more than I can bear. What precious words will He share with me today? What wisdom will He impart? What new mercy will He bestow on me?

Here He comes. I hear Him calling my name. I must go and meet with Him in our secret place. This is our time.

One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple.

Psalm 27:4

October Sunday

I have a confession to make. I played hooky from church today. And I had an accomplice.

First, an explanation. I'm entering into my busy season at work, which will involve long hours and a lot of travel, and my first trip is this week. In preparation for this trip I have already been keeping later than usual hours doing my admin thing, as well as recruiting and training an enrollment team that will be traveling with us. For you who may not know, I work as the Group Services Manager for an insurance broker, and one of the services we offer our larger group clients is benefits enrollment. This means that once a year we take a team out to each location of a given company and provide information and the opportunity for their employees to make changes to their insurance benefits.

Back to my confession. Knowing that we have barely seen other this past week, and also knowing that I will be even busier and traveling starting this week, David and I took today for a much needed time to reconnect and spend the day together. We went out to breakfast, then strolled around Home Depot for nearly an hour-and-a-half, doing a little shopping and little dreaming. We like to dream together about "one day when we build our dream house, this is what we want in it." David dreams big. It's one of the things I love about him. We dream big together, both in life and in ministry.

After Home Depot, we did some home projects we had been putting off. We hung decorative shelves in the living room, he mowed the back yard, and I re-potted some houseplants. The rest of the day was spent just relaxing, then finally eating dinner and watching television together.

Church relationships are a wonderful thing and when cultivated, they become a vital part of our Christian experience. Corporate worship is not something either of us take lightly either, as we both know well the importance and the power of unity that is the result of gathering together with fellow believers.

But today was more about cultivating our relationship. We recognize that no matter what we do for the Kingdom, our marriage is the most important investment of time and energy we can make. Our partnership in this thing called life is what fuels us for stepping out and pressing on to fulfill our destiny - his, mine and ours.

Years from now, we may not remember the events of today, but we will never lose the benefit of the time we spent together one Sunday in October.

Teach us, Dear Lord, to savor each moment,
to live it to its fullest potential.
Thank You for the moments that make up our years.
Thank You for the people who make up our lives.
Amen.

Moments, Critters & Bling

The River Fort Smith is an outreach church I have mentioned before. I am honored to serve alongside a team of gifted individuals from a variety of backgrounds, with a host of talents and giftings. The core leadership of this group happens to be all women. These are my co-laborers, my sisters, my friends.

Every fall, we go an a weekend getaway, a retreat, to help us refresh and refocus. This year, for the first time, we went with no agenda to follow, no schedule to keep, no other ministry to visit or conference to attend. We spent the weekend at Big Cedar, a lodge just south of Branson, Missouri. When I started packing, the first thing I packed was my fuzzy pink slippers, followed by my pajamas. This weekend was all about resting, relaxing, and hanging with the girls. We stayed up till the wee hours of the morning talking, lingered over the breakfast table talking, and enjoyed browsing the gift shops, wandering the grounds at the lodge, and stopping for a picnic lunch on the way home, talking the entire time.

We did have one little run-in with nature on the last evening. We had set out a lovely candlelight dinner on the patio of our first-floor condo and were just sitting down to eat. Wendy, out of the corner of her eye, saw movement, and assuming it to be the cat she had seen earlier, started to lean down to pet the kitty, only to discover to her horror that the kitty had a stripe down its back! She promptly went to doing her best to stifle a scream, and not wanting to alarm the creature for obvious reasons, Kim and Lisa froze in their seats while the little critter quite casually made his way under our table and around Wendy's feet. Being the one in the best position to try to lure the little fellow away from the open door to the condo, I grabbed a piece of bread off the table and tried to get his attention with it in a futile attempt to lure him away from the table and back into the grass. He was not interested.

Wendy quickly went from stifling a scream to praying that this critter be gone in Jesus' name, and after about a minute of wandering around the patio, he did leave. We took the opportunity to create an assembly line, passing everything from the patio to the dining room table as we hastily moved the party inside and closed the door, leaving our dear Mr. LePew to fend for himself. What could have been a very unpleasant experience, fortunately turned into nothing more than a funny story, which Lisa told her husband, Mike (our drummer) on the phone. His tongue-in-cheek reply about being a part of "this stinkin' ministry" generated a roomful of laughter, which is what these moments are all about.

The next day at a gift shop on the way home, we found a stuffed skunk, which Kim could not resist purchasing as a souvenir from our trip. Our new mascot, Pepe, joined us for a creek side picnic lunch and was welcomed with open arms.

As a sidenote, we also found at this same gift shop a "design-your-own necklace" area, where we found charms that read "Daughter" and "Destiny." The women's conferences we conduct are called "Daughters of Destiny", and we were unable to pass up this opportunity to create the first Daughter of Destiny bling as we all purchased matching necklaces. God has a way of reminding us who we are when we are least expecting it.

Here is a video from our trip. Since this was a casual weekend with little or no primping, we promised each other no pictures of each other. What you see here is rather a little bit of what we saw while we spent time enjoying one another's company. We actually did manage to get a few things accomplished, by the way. All that talking really did pay off. Enjoy the video, and be reminded that simple things can bring great joy and simple moments can last a lifetime.

Hugs,
Rachael

Slumber Parties & Tea Rooms

All right ladies, listen up. Slumber parties aren't just for little girls - don't let anyone tell you any different!

Last night a few girlfriends and I got together for a long-overdue, overnight, all-girl evening. We watched movies and ate pizza and a variety of other party foods with absolutely no nutritional value whatsoever. We talked until we could no longer keep our eyes open. We slept in this morning, then talked some more over cappuccinos and hot tea. We made breakfast, then talked some more over breakfast tacos and orange juice. Through it all, we laughed, we cried, we laughed some more.

After the last of the party-goers had gone home or to Saturday jobs, Wendy (my dear friend and co-laborer in ministry) and I made our way to the White Gloves Tea Room to catch the last few minutes of a City-Wide Tea hosted by Thrive (our church's women's ministry) and the White Gloves proprietor, our friend Nancee. We sat in a little nook in the back,
surrounded by rosy wallpaper, glass-topped tables, china figurines, and candles. We indulged in little plates filled with a variety of sweet breads, scones, mini-muffins, and tiny cookies. We sipped Autumn Spice tea from china teacups, served from silver teapots. And still, we talked.

We love our husbands deeply and passionately and cannot imagine our lives without the men who keep us balanced and grounded, entertained, protected, and provided for. But our relationships with the other women in our lives offer us a place where we can be free-hearted little girls, silly teenagers and strong, amazing women all at the same time. We understand each other from a place deep inside ourselves that somehow enables us to laugh at ourselves and each other, to cry with each other, and to appreciate one another with an unspoken, almost spiritual gratitude.

Over time we grow to trust each other with our hopes and dreams, our secret sorrows and fears, and our most embarrassing moments. As our relationships develop from casual acquaintances to beloved sisters, we grow from learning more about each other and about ourselves.

I am blessed to have in my life some amazing women - women who love deeply, laugh easily and live every moment with passion. Some have experienced unbelievable heartache and have lived to tell about it. Some are goofy and crazy girls who can find a party in any setting at a moment's notice. Some are gentle and kind, generously serving everyone around them with style and grace. Others are quiet and strong, steadily providing the structure and glue that holds the things and people around them together.

I can only hope and pray that I will somehow be able to draw from their strength, grace, and fun-loving spirits to become a woman who possesses all the finest qualities of these amazing women. I believe that as women, our lives are fullest and freest when we embrace all the inner beauty and feminine wonder we have been created with - a beauty that is a little bit party girl, a little bit Wonder Woman and a little bit princess.

Slumber parties aren't just for little girls - don't let anyone tell you any different!

Thank You, Father, for the precious sisterhood
we women share with one another. Bless each
one with a sense of hope and wonder in who we can
be and are becoming, with a oneness with You,
and with a vision for the future that includes the
fulfillment of the dreams You have placed in our hearts.