Goldenrod and a string of golden not-summer days {and to #bethegift with a giveaway}...

I'm home from Canada for less than a week when the goldenrod begins to bloom, and fall teases us with a string of stunning not-summer days.

Yellow orchid blooms dangle from from the oak limbs in the back yard...

...and the alamanda bush by the gate explodes in trumpets of lemon at dawn. If green is the color of August, then shades of yellow belong to October.  

At least here on Pollywog Creek.

The not-summer days wax and wane throughout the month bringing subtle changes that I'll miss if I don't pay attention. 

After months of summer rains that swell the banks of the creek and pond, the knobby knees of the now golden bald cypress bordering the pond's edge emerge as the water levels recede.  

Between the barb-wire fence and creek, clusters of acorns herald more not-summer days ahead. Maybe those pesky squirrels will be less attracted to my bird feeders if they have what looks like an abundance of acorns. 

Under the massive live oak, the staghorn fern thrives in the dappled light and reaches out with foliar fronds that give this tropical epiphyte it's name.

Yes. I know. 

These aren't the breath-taking, glorious reds, oranges, and yellows my friends in the northern less tropical or temperate climates enjoy, but I can't let my mind and heart go there. 

I could easily dwell on what others have or experience and I don't, but that's coveting, isn't it? 

And isn't coveting the root of discontent that says what God gives me isn't good enough? 

I've mentioned before that I'm not fond of bucket lists.  

That hasn't always been true. Just ask my husband. 

But as I experienced growth in gratitude and contentment, I began to recognize that a bucket list was a dwelling on and a counting of opportunities and experiences I don't have and therefore covet rather than a focus on being thankful for what I've already been given. 

I'm slowly making my way through a study of Romans once a week with a small group of  friends I love like sisters when Paul reminds me of the sin of coveting and how easily it tries to slip back into my heart. 

These sister-friends and I have talked about some of the ways to fight sin in our lives: to renew our minds with God's Word, to memorize scripture, to grow in our affections for Christ, and to intentionally {and cheerfully} replace sin with acts of obedience. 

In the chapter, What's Even Better than a Bucket List, The Broken Way, a daring path into the abundant life, Ann Voskamp writes:  

What if instead of sitting in life's waiting room, waiting for a chance for something good enough to happen to check off a bucket list--what if abundant living isn't about what you can expect from life, but what life can expect from you? p. 88 

Why grow the list of what I want to have instead of the list of what I can give?  Why not let the heart grow big with a love large enough that it breaks your heart and gives bits of you away? Does "real life" only happen when you get to pick some balmy destination and a cheap flight itinerary? Or is "real life" when you choose to be bread to all kinds of hungry? And maybe this is how your soul truly gets fed anyway?  p. 89 

Experiencing the whole world will not fill your bucket like experiencing giving yourself, and finding the meaning that will fill your soul.  p. 92

The meaning of being is givenness. Ask Christ.  p. 98

It's truly a very, very small offering in light of all I've been given, but rather than quote the whole chapter {or book}, I'm giving away a copy of The Broken Way to someone who promises to read it and to also #bethegift and #payitforward for someone else. Just leave a comment here {or on a link to this post on my facebook page} by midnight Tuesday, November 1st, and I'll put your name in the hat. 

I must warn you, though: The Broken Way will change you and break you in all the right places. 

To let myself be broken and loved...

Every day you can do one thing that you wish you could do for everyone. We will be known for our actual fruits, not the intentions of our imaginations.

Ann Voskamp, The Broken Way, p. 207

The decision was made for me, or I probably wouldn't have gone.  

How could I justify such extravagance? It was too costly. Too complicated, and too far from here to there. I haven't been well in weeks and fatigued from recent back-to-back flares and a trip to Louisiana. For goodness sakes. Even on good days I need help just to open a bottle of water. It's obvious I can't travel alone, and a traveling companion would only multiply the costs. 

Even worse, what if I go and feel too bad to do anything? 

Just in case, I tell my girlfriends--the ones who meet with me weekly to study, There's a one percent chance I'm going to Canada to see my friend Ann next week so I might need to cancel Bible study.  

When Louis bought me a new camera three weeks earlier, I hadn't told him what I'd been thinking. How I'd secretly longed for a new camera and lenses, but the cost was simply too much. Afterall, I thought. I'm no spring chicken. There's too many years behind me and not enough ahead to justify that kind of expense. What would be the point? 

Escalating chronic health issues that aren't responding to the current treatment plan combined with an overall lack of physical well-being left me vulnerable to the lies, and I was sensing a loss of purpose. I concluded that my ability to contribute anything of real value to those around me, much less anyone else, had faded along with my old camera and lens. I hadn't said one word to anyone about wanting a new camera when Louis up and decided I needed one.

Two days after we brought that new camera home, I hadn't taken it out of the box. I probably should return it, I thought. It's a luxury I don't deserve. And Louis tells me to accept the invitation to fly off to Canada and to take Emily with me? 

My Emily makes all the reservations. Roundtrip flights from Ft. Myers to Toronto with layovers in Charlotte. A hotel near the airport in Toronto.

She manages my luggage, opens my water bottles, drives the rental car, and buys me lattes. She keeps me moving, and when my body simply won't keep up, she slows the pace and lets me rest. I'm sure she's embarrassed by her slow old mama with no sense of fashion, but she keeps it to herself.

In Ann's back yard, we sit on quilt-covered bales of hay near the tables of coffee, juice and muffins while Ann gives herself fully to each of her guests. I see how she loves. How she kneels and bends low, gently grabs shoulders and cups faces. She leans into, moves toward and gives everyone her undivided attention. Selfishly I want her all to myself. To sit close and tell her the many ways her beautiful words have changed me, but I wander out to the edge of the field where her writing cabin stands and pluck a dandelion seedhead out of the ground. I hold the downy globe up to the sun and thank God for the gift of this perfect fall day.

If just for that moment, I forget all the ways I feel unworthy of the gift and let myself be loved.

A few miles from Ann's backyard, a welcome sign leans against the outside wall near the doors to the barn. Once inside, Emily and I find seats in the back row of chairs facing the corner stage where Ann reads passages from The Broken Way and Jason Gray sings. They both say the same thing, more or less. The broken are healed by being the broken for others. Tables of hot coffee and cider, plates of cheese and crackers, bowls of apples and popcorn, and trays of sliced pumpkin bread spiraled with cream cheese line the opposite side of the room. It's the most generous hospitality, and Ann stays until the last guest leaves.  

Three days after leaving us at the airport in the wee hours of the morning, Louis returns to pick us up at midnight. Just six short hours later, my dearest, tired Emily is up and off to work, and I open the large manila envelope with a copy of The Broken Way that arrived while I was gone. 

I read late into the night.

As long as I've known Ann, I've believed that she loves and lives like Jesus as much as anyone I know, but I haven't just believed it. I've seen and tasted the fruit of her sacrificial giving and serving and the wholeness she experiences as a result. Ann doesn't preach Jesus, she aims to live a cross-shaped life, and it's Jesus I see in Ann.

Those who claim Christ aren't only saved by a crucified Savior; their lives are shaped by Him. 

The cross isn't some cheap symbol of faith; it's the exact shape we embody as the life of Christ. When we won't see the suffering--who are all of us--we never form our lives like our Savior's.

The Broken Way, p. 268

In The Broken Way, Ann dares us to live #thebrokenway the same way she dared us to count One Thousand Gifts: by tenderly sharing her own brokenness and daring herself to live the cruciform life -- the only path to abundance.

A week ago I went to Canada and let myself be broken and loved...

...by God who whispered in Louis' ear that maybe he should buy me a new camera and send me to Canada, and Louis who heard God's voice and sacrificial ly responds.

...by Emily who patiently cared for her old mama and gave me the gift of time and presence.

...by Ann and her family who opened their home to strangers and gave the gift of  hospitality and words of love and affirmation and a renewed sense of purpose in the dare to live #thebrokenway.

The only life worth living is the life you lose.

The Broken Way, p. 209

Join me on this path into the abundant life #TheBrokenWay? Click on the photo below and check out all the free gifts you'll receive by pre-ordering a copy of The Broken Way by Monday.

TheBrokenWay.com

I'm pretty sure there's one thing I can do today for someone that I wish I could do for everyone.

Thanksliving::Day 24:rejoice and be glad...

30 Days of Thanksliving - Day 24

Thanksliving::Day 17:to know what gratitude is...

The Nature of Gratitude

Almost all English translations miss a beautiful opportunity to preserve in English a play on words that occurs in Paul's Greek*. Paul says, "It is all for your sake, so that as charis extends to more and more people it may increase eucharistian to the glory of God." The Greek word for thanks is built on the word for grace: charis becomes eucharistian. This could have been preserved in English by the use of 'grace' and 'gratitude' which show the same original root. So I would translate: "It is all for your sake, so that as grace extends to more and more people it may increase gratitude to the glory of God." The reason this is important is because when we try to define thanks or gratitude, what we find is that it has a very close relationship to grace. Unless we see this relationship, we really don't know what gratitude is.

John Piper, Grace, Gratitude, and the Glory of God

*2 Corinthians 4.15

30 Days of Thanksliving - Day 17

I {LOVE} Sunday::to know God cares for me...

And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?

Luke 12:28 NLT

With Lovely Lisha's #GiveMeGrace Sunday Community

I {LOVE} Sunday::to open my eyes wide...

Your eyes are windows into your body.
If you open your eyes wide in wonder and belief,
your body fills up with light.
If you live squinty-eyed in greed and distrust,
your body is a dank cellar.
If you pull the blinds on your windows,
what a dark life you will have!"
Matthew 6:22-23 MSG

With the Sunday Community at Lisha's #GiveMeGrace

The testing of boundaries...

Five weeks after total knee replacement and my therapist thinks I’m doing great, but it’s hard work, and I sometimes get weary at the thought of starting all over again next month after surgery on the other knee. About the time I gain some independence back, I’ll be dependent on others again, and it bristles against the stubborn “I can do it myself” me.

I’ve been advised to wait six weeks before driving after right knee surgery, but I’m anxious for some of that temporary independence and decide to look for a loophole in the advice. Thanks to Google I find it.

I'm over at Dan King's Bible-Dude this morning if you want to know more about that loophole and what I did after finding it.

There is none like you...

O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!

Psalm 8.1

While my recovery and rehab have excelled expectations, I'm still forced, for the most part, to be content with photos from my archives, but if I did wander about with my camera today, the photos would likely look much the same as they did last October. The grass under the tall pines is bright green, the cypress trees around the pond are turning yellow, and the palmetto thickets along the creek remain tangled with wild vines and their flowers. 

As I watch the early morning light cut through layers of fog to paint amber streaks down the trunks of trees and sparkle like diamonds on dew-soaked leaves, I'm reminded of the many evidences of God's faithfulness and majesty revealed in nature - from the orderly cycle of seasons, to the daily rising and setting of the sun in blazing glory. 

I'm humbled by God's sovereignty and power over His creation. As we read through the creation story in lifegroup on Sunday, I thought about the foolishness of thinking that we have any control over the environment outside of our ability to practice good stewardship of the resources God has given us dominion over and entrusted to our care.  

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
and the son of man that you care for him?
Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor
You have given him dominion over the works of your hands;
you have put all things under his feet,

Psalm 8.3-6

This ever faithful, sovereign and powerful God of all creation pours more love and kindness and goodness into my life than my heart and mind can begin to grasp. Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my house, that you have brought me thus far?...there is none like you.

O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!

Psalm 8.9

Still Saturday::in wonder at the gifts...

I know to look for them now - these tiny wild orchids that push through the damp, leaf-littered earth in the heavy shade of the azaleas and scrub oaks - when the sun begins to sleep in at summer's end. Who knows how many years I missed this delicate tropical beauty before God put a camera in my hands and taught me to wander and linger - to cultivate an eye for life's mercies and be stilled in wonder at the gift of His daily graces.

31 Days::Day 31 - One thing I do...

The past few days here on Pollywog Creek have been perfectly delightful, but its' felt cruel of me to say so. It's like the spring day my mom died. The air was fresh and cool, bursts of pink dotted the rows of azaleas, and mockingbirds sang into a cloudless cerulean sky. And it made me mad. Because in my heart it was raw and rainy - and it didn't seem fair to my mom that the world around us was rejoicing as she struggled to take her last breaths.


But these days have been so very beautiful, and I'm grateful for the gift of open windows, and air that is fresh...


...and the golden light that paints everything green and yellow.


I sit here now in the quiet darkness of early morning - tapping out my final just one thing thoughts, deeply, truly, grateful for this new day. For most of this journey with RA, I've dreaded the morning - knowing the chances were great that I'd wake in pain, and even the small tasks of pouring a cup of coffee would be difficult. Then I began to dread going to bed at night because restorative sleep was elusive and it only led to the dreaded waking up.

I can't tell you when I stopped all that useless dreading, but I do know that even when I wake exhausted and in pain, it's been replaced by joy - the joy of  a new day and new opportunities, the joy of the Lord that strengthens me for the moment and I know will strengthen me to press forward in the day ahead.

So I return to the theme verse I chose for these 31 Days. Paul admits he's not perfect - but he declares this one thing - that he will put the past aside {the wasted days of dreading and struggling with life in a fallen world} and in the new day he will move forward in the work God gives him.

Me, too, Paul. Me, too.

Day 31 - Philippians 3 { I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead. - vs 13 }

31 Days::Day 24 - A yellow grace falling...

Down here in the land of swamp cabbage, alligators and skeeters, fall is so subtle and slow to creep in on the back of summer that except for the shorter days and longer nights....

...and the explosion of yellow goldenrod and wild daisies gracing the edges of our rural roads and dotting countryside fields...

...those who haven't lived here long {and even some of us that have} might miss it. 

We get behind the wheel of our days and take the same roads we've always traveled - so sure that we know what's out there that we don't even bother looking.

While I complain about the heat and skeeter bites, dentist appointments and dirty laundry, dogs that dig holes in our flower beds, and the same-ole-same-ole, I miss the glorious rising and setting of the sun, the clean air that fills my lungs, and the yellow grace falling all around me.  

{Golden rod has the bad reputation for aggravating our allergies, but in reality, its pollen is sticky and not air-born.}

Day 24 - Romans 10 {... For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” vs 13}, more fall decorating, more cleaning inside windows.