March Throwback

Hello Friend!  ♥

This March has been crazy unique. I mean, with so many changes in our world, it's caught a lot of us off guard and shaken a foundation we thought was secure. For me, it's given me the chance to slow down and ask hard questions. Who am I? What's my purpose? What is life? What's my value? Who am I to God, and Who is He?

Finding the answers is hard. But it can be so freeing.

Today, on the last day of March, I'm looking back. I'm rejoicing in where God worked last March, the year before and so many years back. And here's a peek into His goodness + some fun things on the blog from years before.

A timely reminder for all of us with spare time on our hands, in 2016 I scribbled down a list of 75 random acts of kindness. Yes, it took a while to come up with that many ideas. *covers face* But seriously, spend today blessing someone!

2017 had so much learning and growth, like wisdom in decision making.

In 2018, our family had a crazy intro to spring with two dozen animals born all at once. Fun learning times.  *grins*  And then later that month, there was a new vlog post AND my baby sister was born! She's now 2 years old and crazy loved. ♥ And I am officially dubbed me "Neena."

Last year, 2019, was The Torch Keepers' cover reveal!

And God has worked so much through this March too. As today closes and the month slips away, I'm rejoicing in how good, how faithful, how true He is.

I'm savoring new songs He has put into my heart, passages that He used to inspire me, people He brought into my life.

And even old lessons that He is reteaching me, like the blog post below that continues to be my challenge: am I living a life solely for Jesus?

Friend, whatever happened this March or the ones already past, you are so loved. And Jesus has a purpose.

So let's share: how has God been working? If your month was described in a word, what would it be? How is quarantine going for you? Did any of these old blog posts encourage you? What songs have been on your heart?

God's got April and May and June and this whole world, just like He had March. You're never alone. ♥

Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.

- Romans 5:1

~♥~

This is Our Purpose || guest post

I love seeing how God works through and inspires my younger siblings! This post was written by my thirteen-year-old sister, and the truth in it is something I continually need to be reminded of. This is what true productivity is; this is what is truly important.

Enjoy!


♥   Hosanna Emily

 


Dear Friends,

Last week was a very stressful time for me as I’m sure it was for everybody (I mean, when do we not have a stressful week?). I was diving into some online college classes, which is still very new to me and letting them get between me and God. Instead of spending time with Him, I would study. Instead of talking to Him about my struggles, I would ignore them and keep studying, kind of ignoring my spiritual life altogether. Then He began to nudge me.

When was the last time that I was your actual priority?

Um…oops. That was my reply! I couldn’t remember the last time I had set aside myself and my grades to draw closer to Him and give Him my life. I thought about that for a few days but never actually did anything about it. He kept nudging me.

What does it even mean for you to be a Christian?

Well…a Christian is a Christ-follower, right?

Yes, are you following Me?

Well, no. Not all the way. But you see, God, I have some studying that I really need to do…

No. You don’t. What’s really important for you right now?

To serve you.

Are you serving Me, or serving yourself when you spend hours studying without even thinking about Me?

It hit me, and I had no way of turning back. I had let the devil change my life and slowly lead me away from God so much that He wasn’t my priority anymore. To tell the truth, I kept thinking about it without actually doing anything. (I’m guilty of that a lot!)

That was Sunday, and that night as we gathered with a few other large families, they talked about that very subject and how Christ ought to be first in our life. I kind of stayed silent the whole time and felt pretty guilty, so the next morning, as soon as I woke up, I went outside to a quiet place with my coffee and Bible and praised God (for me, praising God means telling Him how good He is and thanking Him for some things). I felt this huge burden lift off of my shoulders, and all the stress totally disappeared.

I counted, and at least 4 different types of birds were chirping in the trees; I realized that we are supposed to be like those birds. Our job is to forget all of the stress and let God do the stressing for us. Our job is to hop from tree to tree just singing away with all that we are and with all the voice we have.

I find it’s a common trend in the Bible… all the people that were really close to God spent A LOT of time doing nothing but praising Him! Some examples are Matthew 11:25, Exodus 15, Joshua 5:14, and almost the whole book of Psalms!

So I encourage you to choose a time, any time of the day, and every day during that time be like those little birds and push aside all of your distractions and praise God for Who He is.

I will extol You, my God, O King;
And I will bless Your name forever and ever.
Every day I will bless You,
And I will praise Your name forever and ever.
Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised;
And His greatness is unsearchable.

- Psalm 145:1-3

(psst!) How are you going to rest in God and simply praise Him today? Let's share below! 

~♥~

The Secret to a Beautiful Life

   
How are you and Jesus doing?

I'm standing in this field. It's big, almost endless, and full of ten thousand flowers. I'm right among them, the tender sprigs of grass around my feet, curling between my toes. Colors shine in every flowery face, soft pinks, pure whites, pointed scarlets. When the sun comes out, it nearly blinds me with light.

Every flower represents a different person in my life, someone I met, someone I touched, someone's name I remember or forget. Other flowers are tasks, hobbies, jobs, that I call mine.

My family's there. My friends. Faces I've seen but once. Then there's my writing, my blog, my photography, my piano, my sign language, my job giving the cows water every night. And hundreds and hundreds of others.

The flowers make up my life, everything I do. Everyone I meet.

And I'm running through the fragrant bouquets with a tiny water bucket. With the sun beating down, I try to make sure every flower has enough water to stay alive. I spend a little time caring for one blossom then run to the next. All day, all my days, every moment. I'm filling the bucket, emptying it, trying again.

 But when I stop and look at my field, I see the truth: the flowers are dying.

There's the petunia in the corner of my field that I can't reach. Its leaves are drooping.

The sunflower that I keep watering and watering is dropping seeds like tears, its face falling away from the sun.

There are friends I can't seem to love. Hobbies that I abandon. Jobs I do half-way.

I can't keep up with life. The smell of fresh wind and flower perfume fades to hard ground and arid heat.

So I try to run faster.

And all the while, everyone else has their own fields. They look at mine and smile. They say I'm doing a wonderful job. I'm a great Christian and writer and sister and worker. They say they wish they were like me.

I could laugh. I'm panting and tired, and my field is slowly drooping, kissing the soil.

I can't run anymore. So finally, I'm stopping.

I'm dropping my water bucket. I'm lifting my head. I'm raising my hands.

Because I can't make life work. I can't fix relationships. I can't do anything.

Jesus can.

He is the rain cloud that billows over the flowers He planted in my life. Big, fat drops of rain pour out. They wash the dust off my face. They moisten my hair.

I could dance here, Him doing the work I cannot. When I rest in Jesus, He brings completion, victory, blossoms to dying plants. I'm not abandoning the field; I'm letting Him make it thrive.

Because somehow, it becomes our field.

My work, my friends, all these flowers, they don't define me; Jesus does. They become His and mine, us together. Our work. Our friends. Our flowers.

I do everything for Him, not to merely keep seeds from dying. I let Him water our flowers, and I just raise my hands in surrender, in rest, in praise.

I find shalom in Him. Total completeness in Him. The way things were intended to be. It's a relationship.

So how are me and Jesus doing?

Maybe it's called abiding. I'm not sure. I don't know how to "do this" at all.

I'm just tired of trying. And when we rest, there's this sweet dance we enter in. It makes the flowers bloom the way He intended them to. It makes the air swirl with His laughter, His fragrance.

So put down your water bucket. Go find Jesus, and love Him.

This transforms ordinary life into something beautiful.

Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.

- Romans 5:1-2

~♥~ 

Mordecai's Story || Embracing Opportunities

When she was little, I used to pull her close to my side, slip her the end of the silky fabric, and pretend she was helping me sew. I held the needle, tight between my fingers. And clumsy, uneven lines pressed two pieces together.

But her deep eyes would widen. She jumped up, grabbed the finished garment, and held it up.

"It's like a princess! But it's my size! Can I try it on, please, please, please?"

I always said yes.

But right now, I'm cold all over. She's not a girl anymore. She's taller than me, with slender fingers and blushing cheeks. She's a beauty, and everyone knows it.

And today she has to leave me.

I hear her already, her feet slipping down the loft ladder. She's barefoot, like always, her feet tough from dancing through Shushan's dirty streets. And when her feet meet the hard ground, she turns. Hair swings around her shoulders. Her eyes laugh.

The young lady slips her arms around me. She hugs. Tight. Her dress is white and soft, fluffy ruffles around her throat.

We don't say anything at first. I turn to embrace her. We stay there. I swallow hard.

And then she releases her breath. "I love you, Dad."

We part. I can't say the words back, or I'll cry. And a guardian's job is to be there for her.

I inhale deep. "What would you like to do... your last day?"

She grins. "Why, don't you remember? You tore your tunic coming from the king's gates yesterday. I'm going to mend it."

I reach out, touch her arm. "It's okay. We only have a few hours."

"I know," she says, her voice softening. "I wouldn't want to spend it any other way."

She finds a needle, and brings out my best clothes, the silky blue that matches the king's colors. Sitting before me cross-legged, she bites the string, slips it into the eye of the needle, and her hands fly like no one I've ever seen.

I sit here, above her, watching the top of her chestnut curls as she sways to the pulse of her stitches. She hums, slightly, the way she hums when she's nervous but tries to hide it.

I squeeze her shoulder. She keeps sewing.

And I want to cry. Because when her parents died and I took their place, I thought it would be service to tend to her. And somehow, I fell in love with the one who calls me "Dad." And I never want to let her go.

I remember the verses, written more than a century ago. The promise, the bittersweet pain.

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you;
Before you were born I sanctified you.

God's plan was good; why did it hurt to let go?

She snaps the string off. Folding my garment, she hands it to me and smooths the blue silk in her small hands. She smiles, but it's shaky.

"All done." She stands.

I grab her fingers, press them in mine. "Thank you," I say. "I'll think of you every time I wear them."

She smiles but then grows serious. "Don't tear it again, or I'll have to bring my needle and thread into the royal palace." She tried to put on a stern face, rolling her eyes.

We both laugh.

I look her over. This girl, somehow my child. The soft, white dress on her shoulders. Dark hair. Endless eyes that are soft around the edges.

"Don't be sad," she whispers. "God's got this, remember?"

I nod.

"Your favorite verse. 'Before I formed you in the womb...'" she pauses, prodding.

I finish. "I knew you."

Tears well up in her eyes.

A carriage rolls up to the door, crunching on the cobblestones and loose pebbles. Suddenly, she grabs me. I feel her trembling.

"Shh," I press my lips against her hair. Her silent body shakes against me, and I wish I was taller, stronger, able to take her away from this future she never wanted to live.

"Dad." Her fingers curl into a fist. "If the king doesn't choose me, if he doesn't love me..." She shakes her head. "I'll be stuck in a harem forever. I'll never see you, never leave it, never be loved."

I shook my head. "No, you'll always be loved."

She steps back, tries to smile. Her eyes are edged in red. "Sometimes it's hard to remember."

I still see her fear written across her face, but she's a princess. And this is the story God was writing for her.

She turns, walks toward the door. Then, pressing her fingers to her mouth and then the mezuzah on the doorpost, she leaves.

I follow her out the door. The carriage is edged in the King's blue, matching my garments. Around the edges are pearl beads, white against the sapphire color.

But she's even brighter. The white dress swishing around her ankles. The light in her eyes. The way she smiles at me.

I stand tall, for her, and because God's plan is good.

She smiles. The carriage leaves for the King's courts.

It hurts like a hammer is slamming against my heart, but I keep standing. Looking upward, I blink back tears.

And then I turn inside to put the needle and thread away for her.

Want to do your own study on the life of Mordecai?

Click Here!

~♥~