Once I stepped off the plane, I knew I was home. Which is a funny thing to say, because until that moment I'd spent nine whole days of my life in Colorado.
Today I am sharing one of my very favorite stories about God's will and our move to Colorado over at Venn Magazine. Are our lives like a Lego set, and it's our job to find the next specific brick to move forward? Or are we co-creators with God, offering materials that He uses to shape our lives into something new? Head over to Venn to hear how we ended up in Denver, and how I see God's will these days.
If you followed the link from Venn, welcome! You may be interested in the three things I learned from the best and dumbest decision I ever made, or how giving up on God's will strengthened my faith. If you like what you see here, please shoot me an email at awidemercy at gmail dot com, or stop by the Facebook page and introduce yourself. I would love to meet you!
Saturday, September 20, 2014
They clamor in, grubby hands full of backpacks and jackets. Predictably, the introvert is exhausted and the extrovert is energetic. Usually it's the more outgoing child who fills our ride home with his answer - what games they played, what his friends said, the gauge of the day's lunch (funny how academics never make the cut) - but today his brother climbed into the front seat and spoke up first.
"We learned about how the universe began. All the classes came to my room and the teachers did a presentation."
"Really?" I said, genuinely interested.
"Yeah," he said. "But Mom they talked for a long time about the beginning of the world, and nobody ever said anything about God. Some people in my class said they didn't believe in God, that He didn't have anything to do with how the world was made. I told them God made everything."
There it was.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
|photo by my lovely friend Janet Jacob|
As much as I love living in the West, my internal clock has not adjusted to its seasons. I'm surprised by them every time. I spent the first half of my life in the South, where March promised blooming trees and t-shirts. But March here means two more months of muddy slush and sudden snow. Septembers in the South are, truthfully, awful - muggy and warm until the very end, leading everyone to grumble about the summer that just won't die. Not so here, of course. I knew it wouldn't stay hot for long. After Labor Day I took stock of our coats, but I assumed I had several weeks to replace shoes and gloves. It's only early September, right?