A Slow Drift

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There are seasons of time when I especially want to be in the presence of the Lord. I am in one of them right now. 

I want to soak up his goodness and receive all the kindness and love he has given me.

But this wasn’t always the case.

I wasn’t always as close to the Lord as I am now.

I once let other desires and affections rule in my heart. I loved the things of the world more than the things of the Lord (in practice, though not in underlying dedication).

This bore itself out in my quiet times, which were essentially nonexistent. I would rarely open my heart to the Lord or go to him for comfort. Because of my distance, I thought of him primarily as a Judge. My sin tainted my view of him because I knew the judgment I deserved.

What made this time in my life worse was that I often pretended to be okay. I pretended to be close to the Lord because, well, all my life, I had imagined myself close to the Lord. But this time of life was different. My soul was dry, and I was feeding off things that were not my Lord.

I confess these things to you because I imagine we are all susceptible to these seasons of drift. I hope that you don’t experience one. But I know I didn’t expect it; I hardly noticed it and didn’t see it coming beforehand.

And that, my friends, is frightening.

It is frightening to think we can have our hearts pulled away from the Lord while assuming ourselves close to the Lord. It is alarming that this kind of self-deception exists. The Lord wants our hearts.

Thankfully, the Lord woke me up. I distinctly remember praying and hiding my sin from the Lord—and feeling his disapproval. He wanted me to always acknowledge my sin before him. That was step one.

The Lord has always been precious to me. I didn’t want to admit I had wronged him, and I still don’t. But to be honest and authentic with the Lord, we must sometimes do what we don’t want. We must accept responsibility for our sins before him.

As I have said, that is step one.

The next step for me was to receive his grace immediately. He was quick in giving it to me. He was not reticent to demonstrate his forgiveness. They came immediately. They came before I fully accepted my responsibility for my sin. Even before I could fully admit that I had indeed drifted from the Lord, he reassured me that he would not leave me. Once I confessed my responsibility, he accepted me—it is as though he congratulated me on doing the one thing pleasing to him that I had been so reluctant to do.

He congratulates me on a job well done when I admit my responsibility for my own sin. Think of this—this is the Lord! He is always gracious and close to the humble. I do not call myself humble, but acknowledging my own sin is a humble act that I needed help to achieve. This is the very act that ushered me closer to the Lord.

After that, it was also all grace. He ushered me into his presence to bless me. He dazzled me with his kind treatment, love for me, acceptance of me, and sheer character and existence. As an admitted sinner, I fell for him—like never before, forgiven and welcomed near.

And now, it is as though his greatness in my heart has crowded out those desires of the world. My loves are much more rightly ordered. My love for him is assuredly supreme. My heart requires work—hard work. It did not come to me correctly aligned. It has been a work of God to help me understand what it means to love him first and with all of me. I, of course, am not perfect in this. But I have experienced what the love of God does in the heart by expelling sin.

This only happened in stages, was gradual, and was a work. His love is still ordering me, but I am not drifting now.

The kindness of the Lord is so lovely to me. His riches of mercy that are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-23) on this earthly journey are like a cloak or covering over me, sheltering me from the world. Every morning, I need to know that my story with him continues—that he will still do this ordering work within me. And he does. I used to dread the Lord in a way; I was afraid in an unhealthy manner because I had not fully encountered his kindness. I needed to lay myself before him and have faith that he rewards those who humbly seek him (Hebrews 11:6).

Communicating with the Lord

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When I communicate with the Lord, I have been brought to a place of friendship.

Perhaps that feels wrong to you. Maybe you feel like, if you fear the Lord as you ought, you should approach him only in reverence.

I understand. I used to write prayers full of carefully crafted words. I would polish my sentences, check for theological precision, and form what I hoped had some eloquence for the Lord.

But I wasn’t bringing him my heart.

Now, my prayers are much more feelings-oriented. I tell him how I am doing and bring him my feelings. I confess feelings I wish I didn’t have, which I know aren’t right, good, beautiful, true, or pure.

In this way, I speak to him as a friend.

This is part of what Hebrews 4:16 means when it says we should confidently approach the throne. I think of how Moses spoke to the Lord as a friend (Exodus 33:11). Now, marvel of marvels, we are all invited to do so through Christ (John 15:15).

We can come near, as we are. And, he takes this lump of clay and molds me. I love the feeling of being shaped by his hands. I love the sense of his mercy and grace pouring over my sin to heal it and set me in the right direction.

I think of this verse in Psalms: “Instead, his delight is in the LORD’s instruction, and he meditates on it day and night” (Psalm 1:2 CSV).

The instruction of the Lord has become my delight. It sounds counter-intuitive, in a way. How is instruction my delight? Is that not relegated to the area of rote duty? How is instruction a pure joy? It comes down to two realities, at least. First, it feels right to be righted. When we learn righteousness, it feels like we are becoming more like the selves we were created to be. We are growing up in righteousness rather than being denigrated by sin. Our joints are being put back into place. And second, it brings pleasure to God when we are righted. And that is the goal and aim of our lives.

When I pray to God now, I long for righteousness and companionship.

When polishing my words for him, I missed relating with him. I missed the fact that I was communicating with Someone. It was more soliloquy than dialog. But now, I understand what the psalmist is ever doing. The psalmist brings “complaints” to the Lord to be heard by a Person: “The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears” (Psalm 34:17a).

The psalmist responds to being heard by having faith and affirming trust in the Lord, which perhaps wasn’t there in the psalmist’s heart before the conversation started. Prayer creates faith, I believe.

It is a friend who wants to hear of the heart's inner workings. It is a friend with whom you can be yourself. It is a friend who will listen to your concerns. It is a deep and dear friend who will help right what has been wronged in you. It is a kind friend who will comfort you.

And, all the while, this friend is God, who beckons trust from our inward parts.

My prayer practice has completely changed over the past several years; because of it, I am different.

  1. I am not left to deal with my feelings myself. Prayer invites total honesty that works with me and works on me. I am heard and righted.

  2. When I don’t see through situations to resolution, prayer reminds me of the work God does on my behalf to make a way before me. I am less anxious—and less apt to make poor decisions based on my limited knowledge.

  3. Prayer is the practice that means I am kept company by the Lord. I am in the presence of a God who wants to hear from me. I learned to bring my concerns to God as a child, but as an adult, I forgot it. Now, I know that God wants to hear even the details that seem insignificant. I am listened to in full.

I want to know the Lord more and have gotten to know him more once I prepared for an actual exchange, an encounter, an honest dialog. Prayer is not so complicated. But the Lord likes us to go with a bit of faith: faith that he wants to hear from us and will meet with us.

Decorative Acorn Craft

As seen below, today my mom is making an acorn craft with a wicker trinket basket, a glass candle holder, a cut branch, and dried moss.

  1. The wicker trinket basket is acquired from Dollar Tree. To make it proportional to the glass candle holder (also purchased at Dollar Tree), cut off the gray top portion. Set aside.

  2. Take out acorn-colored paint, or pumpkin-colored (if preferred). Paint and dry between coats; it takes two to three coats for covereage.

  3. Then, take outside for clear coat protective spray to provide durability.

  4. Next, cut the branch to desired length for stem. Use glue gun to afix stem to the bottom of the wicker basket.

  5. Use glue gun again to place dried moss around the stem.

Acorn can be used as a candy jar, candle holder (with top off), or with decorative fairy lights.


Fall Tablescape

Here is a neutral fall tablescape at my mom’s, Sheryl’s. The knit pumpkins at the center are handmade by my mother. The candlesticks are Homememory LED flame moving wicks.

Following, this demonstrates an easy transition from a seasonal decor set-up to a dinner look.

The dishes were sent from my maternal grandparents in Japan to their niece, early in my grandparents first missionary term. The silverware is my maternal grandmother’s. The glasses were a wedding present to my maternal grandparents.


Heirloom Accordion and Missionary Music Ministry

In the Missionary Trunk story that I posted recently, we wrote about my grandfather’s use of music in ministry. Here are some pictures of the family accordion that we still have—which my grandfather played.

My grandfather also played saxophone and sang throughout his ministry. While in Japan, they would learn the words in Japanese to a hymn. Then, they would be sung during worship services. One example is “I Am Not Worthy,” by Beatrice Bush Bixler.

“I Am Not Worthy,” by Beatrice Bush Bixler

I am not worthy the least of His favor,
But Jesus left heaven for me;
The Word became flesh and He died as my Savior,
Forsaken on dark Calvary.

Chorus:
I am not worthy this dull tongue repeats it!
I am not worthy this heart gladly beats it?
Jesus left heaven to die in my place
What mercy, what love and what grace!

I am not worthy the least of His favor,
But "In the beloved" I stand;
Now I'm an heir with my wonderful Savior,
And all things are mine at His hand.

I am not wortly the least of His favor,
But He is preparing a place
Where I shall dwell with my glorified Savior,
Forever to look on His face.

Pictured above is my grandfather playing saxophone while my grandmother accompanied him. We still have their copies of the music they played (pictured throughout this post). And, another hymn they would feature is “Unworthy,” by Gloria Roe. The full lyrics are below.

“Unworthy,” by Gloria Roe

I am unworthy of the price He paid for me
I am unworthy of His death on Calvary
I am unworthy to call upon His name

Chorus:
Yet He loved me
Still He loves my
Praise His Holy Name

I am unworthy of the blood He freely gave
I am unworthy for in sin I was a slave
I am unworthy that He should bear my shame

I am unworthy of the place He has prepared
I am unworthy of the love that He has shared
I am unworthy to claim His precious name

Pictured above is my grandfather with a quartet that played during his ministry and more music—which was a duet that my grandmother and grandfather sang together.

“Beyond the Sunset,” by Virgil P. Brock

Beyond the sunset, o blissful morning,
when with our savior heaven is begun.
Earth’s toiling ended, o glorious dawning,
beyond the sunset, when day is done.

Beyond the sunset, no clouds will gather,
no storms will threaten, no fears annoy;
o day of gladness, o day unending,
beyond the sunset, eternal joy!

Beyond the sunset, a hand will guide me to God,
the father, whom I adore;
His glorious presence, His words of welcome,
will be my portion on that fair shore.

Beyond the sunset, o glad reunion
with our dear loved ones who’ve gone before;
in that fair homeland we’ll know no parting;
beyond the sunset forevermore.

My Mother

“You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.”

\ Psalm 16:11


My mother is a creative soul—she is ever engaging with life, and is an inspiration to me in doing so. She uses her skills organizing and decorating and crafting and cooking to help others constantly. She is immersed in the Scriptures and always has a word of truth-speaking wisdom to share. When she is on her own time, she travels to Door County, WI, or goes to visit my sister in Kentucky. She also enjoys reading, friends, and maintaining all memories from our family heritage.

My mom, Sheryl, will bring all of these skills to this—our little homemade photography lifestyle blog posts. I supply the photography, and often, she will supply the topics of our posts.