I know that we all, at some point, ask ourselves the question, “Who am I?” The easy answer would come from looking at the past and adding up all that we have done to date, right?!
I am sure that if I were wealthy with a following of friends that adored me, I might feel quite accomplished…
I suppose it would be easier to justify mistakes and costly losses, reassuring myself that it has made me who I am so it was worth it.
How much money would it take for me to be OK with that last comment?
How many friends would it take for me to not feel regret over any hurts that I have caused due to my selfish mistakes in life? I am not saying that I want to walk through my life in misery over my past failures, but they are there all the same, always floating in the shadows, seeking to pull me down into the depths of despair.
Being a human with faults and imperfections embedded in my nature is quite daunting, and yet God sees me as a precious treasure…go figure.
Rather than dropping a rock on my head, He lifts me up, and always seeks to reassure and encourage me with His grace and mercy. It seems that my brokenness and failures are where God teaches me the most about who I am. He does not seek me and love me because I am so good, but rather, because I recognize that I cannot do anything without Him.
I am not expressing my feelings to teach some big lesson, nor am I judging anyone else who may have an easier life than mine; I’m simply sharing my heart in regards to my relationship with Christ.
I am on a journey of self discovery and what I have found is that Who I am is Christ in me!
I have accepted that I cannot do anything without Him. I have spent nearly 50 years trying to do it on my own strength and have left a path of mistakes and regrets that I will carry to my grave.
But the difference now is that I do not carry them alone, but with the strength, forgiveness and love of my Heavenly Father, who walks before me, behind me, and beside me…often carrying me.
Who am I?
I am Redeemed, Reborn, Renewed, Forgiven, Cherished, and a Child of the Risen King!
** I don’t know about anyone else, but I often write letters to God. This was from one of my old journals, I believe. Back when I first started writing on WP, there were a number of posts in which I shared pieces from my prayer journals. This one is a bit rough around the edges, but still worth reading in its original form.**
Prayer Journal Entry November 2016:
“…I will trust you Father. I choose to trust You.
I know that You are working for my good. I know that You love me. I know that all You ask is that I follow you, that I let You lead me, and to be obedient to You. If you called me home today, would I be excited or would I be ashamed of my attitude.
I have been asking You to change me and that is what you are doing. You are constant and unchanging but I am not. I need to be soft and moldable so that You can shape me into more of Your image…loving, peaceful, patient, kind, gracious, full of mercy, compassionate, gentle, and giving. You don’t sit in Your Holy Mountain basking in Your own glory and wealth, rather, You are constantly, and forever pursuing Your children, delighting in them, helping them, teaching them, protecting them and blessing them.
You are a mighty God, a jealous God who craves His children’s love and obedience. You do not want us, Your children, to place anything above You. I do not wish to love my life so much that I seek to satisfy my own desires more than I seek to please You. When I am called home, I will not be bringing a house or car or a bank account full of money. What I will be bringing with me is my heart and my mind. My memories come with me, the choices in my life come with me, both the memory of consequences and the memory of blessings and obedience.
I want my heart to be filled with joy and laughter and love, not resentment and self-pity or jealousy. It’s funny how a suitcase or even a U-Haul has only so much physical space available, but a human heart, small as it is, has the capacity for an endless supply of love and emotion and passion. I choose to pack my heart for the journey home to you…”
When I opened my eyes this morning, I found Tilly staring back at me, from across the pillow. She held something that looked like a letter, and I couldn’t see who it was from, but the look on her face was answer enough. Young Henry had written to Tilly, that much was quite clear!
But, why the long stare fest? What was in the note? At first, I honestly thought Tilly looked more frightened than happy. For a moment, I feared something unpleasant may have occurred. Only after taking the letter she offered me, did I come to understand her conflicted emotions…
The words of the letter were few, but very heartfelt, as young Henry wrote down his words of love for our young Tilly.
My Tilly I love you I hope you love me Meet me at our spot by the river, if you can I want to ask you something.
Henry
No wonder Tilly has such a strange look on her face… She is truly in love. The rush of emotions, fear of the unknown, and excitement for what’s to come, all bouncing around inside… yep! I’ve seen it before, and even though I’m seeing the backside of my fifties, I too, remember the butterflies, giddy laughter, and rush of emotions at every smile or touch… yeah, I remember them like it was yesterday.
So, it has now become my joy and honor to walk this journey with our young Tilly. Whatever she needs, we’ll be there to help and guide her along the way… that’s what family does.
Once Tilly saw how excited I was, her face relaxed into a more dreamy and confused state. She just kept twirling into things, as she wandered about looking for what to wear. I picked out several of her favorite dresses, in an effort to speed things up a little. For the next hour and a half I watched Tilly get dressed in one outfit, leave for the river, and then return to change into a different dress…
Finally, she made up her mind…
I do really love that sweater she’s wearing. Young Henry’s mother made it for Tilly while we were out to sea, presenting it to her upon their first visit, once we’d returned to the Barnyard. Tilly absolutely loves that sweater, as I think it bears a great deal of love, woven throughout the garment.
So anyways, I watched from the front porch as Tilly scampered across the grass, and down the path toward the river… I stayed there to watch til long after she’d disappeared into the trees. I could only guess as to what would come………………….
…she’s late…
… maybe she won’t come…
I think she loves me…
… what if I’m wrong, and she says no?
Well, God told me to ask her, and I did read that verse saying, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart”. I think it was Psalm 37:4…
Here, she comes…
I can do this, I can do this…
Ok…
Ahhhemmm…
Miss Tilly…
I love you with all of my heart. In fact, I’ve loved you from the moment we met. I offer you all that I have in this world. Please say that you’ll be my wife…
……… give em their moment…………………………….
(10 minutes later)
I am getting married… I am getting married! He asked… he really, really asked me to marry him…
…………………………………………………………………………………………
… she said yes… she actually said yes, God…
What am I standing here waiting for… I gotta go tell mamma! We’ve got things to do…
…………………………………………………………………………………………
… What am I doing dancing around in the woods? I can’t wait to get back to the barn and tell Ma.. Mee… oh for heavens sake, I’m callin her my Mamma cause it suits her, and she’s always been there for me…
… and I’m gonna need her now, more than ever! I hope she knows what we’re supposed to do. I don’t know the first thing about getting married…
John the Baptist lived in the desert for most of his adult life, surviving on honey and locusts… but he was never alone!
God found a young King David, living and tending his father’s flocks, in solitude.
God met Moses from a burning bush, while in the wilderness.
God helped Noah build the ark, mostly in solitude, aside from when his sons aided in the work.
God gathered Jonah in the belly of a whale, to bring him about.
Jesus spent 40 days and nights in the desert, being tormented and tested by the Devil, himself… but we know that He was NEVER alone! He had an entire host of angels with Him, prepared to serve at all cost, upon the call of their Lord!
When one claims that God met them where they were, in the depth of their own journeys, this is the heart of who God is! We are never alone, even if we listen to the lies of the enemy, being deceived into believing that God does not care, does not see, or wish to give aid.
I have felt God’s hand on the back of my shirt, yanking me three feet backwards, only to see a car fly past and into the wall of the building beside me…
When I lay bleeding to death on a hospital gurney, He stood over me…
When my truck was careening toward the cliffside, during a late night snow storm in the mountains of Colorado, I felt the invisible hand of God grab my truck in one immediate grasp, ripping the steering wheel out of my hands, and turning the nose of my truck back toward the mountainside, allowing me to slowly coast all the way back to the mountain side of the road, and gently coming to a stop.
GOD is with us!
Christ is our firm foundation!
God is faithful!
He will never leave, nor forsake you… just look up!
He has done, is doing, and will do ALL that is within His purpose, plan, and design.
God found me in the desert. Let me show you…
This is from 2023, and it’s the second part of another story that you’ve probably read from my Investigating Truths series. What follows is my best explanation of how God found me:
Well, whatever drove me with such force towards my own end, I am no longer even sure of…but I fled blindly into the wastelands, none the less.
Do you remember those old tin can and yarn phones we played with as kids? No matter how far apart we were from each other, as long as we talked into the can, we could hear what the other was saying. It may be a strange way of explaining this connection God has with me, but from my beginning, there has always been an invisible string between He and I. You may scoff, but the only way to prove it is to tell you what I have seen!
In my blind flight, I wandered into the dead lands where the enemy dwelt! Everywhere I ran, they sought me hungrily! Time and again I was ravaged by the wickedness that pursued me ever so steadily, methodically drawing blood in small lethal quantities, eagerly gaining strength from the flesh that was being pulled from my frame. I found myself at my end, in a pile of bones that must have belonged to many previous victims.
All it took that night, was a simple tug on the yarn between those two tin cans…not sure if it broke or simply tugged, but it was enough!
This is how I believe He arrived before me…
As I felt my breath leaving my chest for the end, there came a soft vibration from within the pile of bones I lay on, up from the ground beneath. All I know is that it grew in intensity until my very blood vibrated with a resonance that I cannot mistake as the thunderous footfalls of my Father at an intense dead run through the desert! He was coming!
In my end, I did not have even the strength to open my eyes, but the sounds I heard were overwhelming…Lightening striking the ground and thunderous explosions emitting from the very hand of my Father, were all that I could hear. The screams of death were in my ears and the smell burning flesh was in my nostrils causing me to open my eyes in alarm, only to witness the Full Level of Gods anger being directed at my enemies. As the smoke cleared and the sounds died down, I simply let go of my spirit, unable to carry on any longer. As I felt the darkness consume me, there was something tugging at my mind, something pulling on that string attached to my spirit, I think.
There came a fragrance, sweeter than any flower I had ever smelled! Wafting gently through the dark, it steadily began soaking into my very fiber…I recognized it from somewhere deep within, as the very breath of God. Every single place of damage within my spirit became drenched in the warm healing power of His breath! From that place of complete exhausted surrender, my Father began tending my every wound. I cannot say how long He stayed there in the wasteland with me, slowly and steadily mending each place that had been damaged. When I gained strength to stand and walk again, He did not leave me, even then!
Together, my father and I walked hand in hand back toward the Cities of Souls, and I did not care because I knew He was with me and I need not fear all those souls any longer. Before I realized it, time had rolled forward and I suddenly found myself standing on a hillside on the outskirts of the city. When I turned in question to my Father, unsure of our path, He smiled gently and cupped my chin gently in His hands. He need not even say words out loud, as I could clearly read His thoughts from within my mind.
Stretching out His arm toward the city caused my eyes to follow where He pointed. Clearly, I could see a small path weaving all of the way through the city to the mountains of God on the other side. I could see, if I looked closely, small lights illuminating the path frequently. It was time for me to walk steadily down that path and through the Cities of Souls, making sure to follow His clearly marked path. If I held to the path, even when I felt lost or discouraged, the path would get me home, where my Almighty God was preparing a place for me.
If I needed Him, I need only reach out for Him, smelling the air for His fragrant breath, which kept those lights along the path glowing brightly. With a love like this, I am now compelled to walk forward into those Cities of Souls, no longer just a wild child, but alas, an imperfectly beautiful Woman of Grace!
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.”
Doesn’t Fall always give birth to nostalgia, or am I the only one who thinks this way? Every year, just as the weather begins cooling, I find myself digging through the archives, and pulling out some of my old articles to read. Though I realize this site has an archive page, but many readers don’t have hours of free time to go digging through all that stuff.
That’s why you’ll occasionally see them re-posted, because the more recent readers might not have read them, yet.
From now on, if you see (20__) on an article, those will all be called Tuesday Thoughts and Things, like this one. I will be pulling up some of my favorite goodies from the archives, going all the way back to when Journey With Me began, in 2016. Yes, you get to see all my typos, commas,,,,,,,,,,,, and poor sentence structure, but hey, I’m still learning. If nothing else, we can all see how my writing skills, and style, have changed over the years.
So let’s do this!
This came from October 24, 2023…
I was going to post a picture of my plant today, but found this while searching my photo files… I figure that the plant can wait a few days. Have you ever been in a place where you see something you yourself have done, written or said… but it seemed as if someone else did the writing or saying, though you know it was you?
I guess I write so much, I occasionally find myself surprised at things I myself wrote. It is not a disappointment, nor something to be proud of necessarily, but it makes me happy inside for some reason. Perhaps I am able to see my true reflection in the words written for others…
I think all too often in life, we do and say mostly what the world will accept of us, or what we perceive the world might accept from us.
I think I like the way I write better, when I don’t care what the world thinks, but more so what I think or even better yet, what God thinks… in my opinion.
Maybe reading old writings of my work, encourages me, because it reflects a spirit of healing, growth and faith, which had not been there for so much of my life. Our human propensity to overcome, rise above and walk on, always amazes me… that comes from God folks, not us, but the one whom we were designed after. We are all made in His image, and therefore by design, are fully capable of tapping into this part of our spirit.
It comes down to Freedom… freedom of choice! God has given us all we need to get this life done, we need only accept the tools given and get it done! Will it be easy? Is it ever? Life interruptus happens for everyone.
Choices, choices, choices… what we do with what we have is what makes us who we are… Period!
When I look back over the things I have written over time, I clearly have seen the good, the bad, and the ugly of my choices, as well as the lasting scars of the choices made by my predecessors. I have also witnessed a resilience within myself, that has apparently always been there, but had been obscured by my attempts to just survive!
Perhaps I have simply arrived finally, at the cross roads of Too Damn Tired and Suck It Up Buttercup! Whatever it is, I like it! When someone came up with the phrase, “What don’t kill you makes you stronger”, I now have a full understanding of what they meant.
When I read that poem I wrote a ways back, it resonated with me, as if a stranger had written it for me to read, and not the other way around.
That folks, is growth! As I heal and grow in my walk with God, the words that begin flowing onto the page are actually quite beautiful, and I can say that without pride, as I think they fully come from God… maybe not for you, but rather, for me…
The woman behind the counter smiled gently at me, as she cleaned her ear piercing tools. My heart was in my throat, it seemed. Getting my ears pierced was the most grown up thing I had ever done by my own choice.
My Nana had bought me a pair of earrings in the shape of bright red apples, but this time the jewelry wasn’t clip on… they were the real thing in the eyes of a 6 year old. My mother told me that I could get my ears done if I chose on my own… no hand holding or cajoling would be forthcoming.
I lay in bed awake the entire night before we embarked on this grown up lady stuff I wanted to take part in. I was terrified, of what I am not sure… but if they could poke me with a vaccination needle whenever they felt like it, and trade me a stupid sucker for my time, then I must be grown up enough to take the needle for a pair of gloriously beautiful red apple earrings. My mind was made up on the matter, so I just lay there and waited for the sun to come up.
I was so terrified of backing down and not being able to wear my new gift… it was in truth, the only thing that kept me on that swinging stool, there in that Bon Marche Department Store. I tucked my feet behind the bar beneath the seat, grabbed the sides of the stool with both hands in a military vice grip and tried to find my happy place.
I apparently had nothing to worry about, because it was over before it had begun! That fast… bang bang… All Done! They were kind enough to do both ears at the same moment, probably in case I backed out half way through the deal. I was so happy and proud of myself that I burst into tears, making the grown ups think I was in pain or shock. Not so!
I WAS A LADY!
So now I will explain the hilarious fall out from my Grown Up Anxiety Filled Sleepless Night… the reality of how most adults handle stress.
As exhausted as I was from no sleep and worry, over my piercing adventure, I never had a moment to catch some zzzzzz’s until that night after we got home. I was so tired that I could barely touch my dinner, and vaguely remember my mom walking me down the hallway to my bedroom……..
…. The rain fell steadily in the darkness, only illuminated by the distant street lamps, flickering occasionally. I was sitting in the passenger seat of our station wagon, while my parents were in a Parent/Teacher Conference up the street. As I waited for them to return, I saw movement not too far down the block, barely visible through the sheets of rain falling across the hood of the car.
I heard her before I saw her… this scary Witch that looked suspiciously like the lady off of the Wizard of Oz, if I am being completely honest. I could hear her laughing wickedly as she slowly materialized out of the darkness. Yup! It had to be that horrible woman who took Toto away from Dorothy. Don’t judge… I have a bucket list of different childhood memories that are triggered by different movies I had in my tiny mind.
Anyway, as the witch steadily approached my car, I frantically checked all the door locks and glanced up at the entrance of the School, hoping I would see my parents walking down the steps toward our car. Nope! As Jack Sparrow says, I was “all by me onesies”!
I crawled down under the dash where I could be hidden from view for the most part, except my feet could still be seen from the passenger door. I heard her approach the car, walk all the way around it dragging her super long witchy fingernails across the metal doors… witches always have super long curvy red nails if you needed a visual.
Then the witch stopped directly in front of the passenger side door where I was crouched down on the floor. All I could see was the tip of her hat, but I could hear what she was doing… she was picking the lock on my door with those awful fingernails. I watched in horror as the little metal door lock popped!
The next thing I knew, I was strapped onto a torture table, in the parking lot underneath the Sprouse Ritz Department Store, and that witch began to tickle me with those long fingernails…
It was torture! I began to laugh and could not stop! I fought to get away, but was strapped down so there was no escape for me… no way out! Except to wake up, but I had been so tired from the night before that it was like crawling through thick Jello to do anything. Never fear though, laughter is here… I laughed so hard that I rolled myself out of the top of our bunkbed and landed with a thump on the floor below. That did the trick!
Isn’t it funny the way we handle stress… often bottling our fears, stuffing them down and hiding them away from judging eyes. I realize that I was just a child and that the dream was probably just a way to release the tension I had been holding for several days over a perceived painful event. There was no real danger or trauma involved in ear piercing, but to a child trying to be a grown up, it most assuredly seemed like there might.
My take away from the whole affair was this… I would for sure think long and hard the next time I wanted to be a grown up!
From then to now, I still often find myself thinking long and hard every time I have to do grown up stuff… I know I should be fine with getting tickled all night in a parking lot, but this girl would rather leave the Witch back at Sprouse Reitz…
With the fall season rushing to fill our senses, and our kitchens, with warm and comforting October favorites.
My favorite flavor’s during October center around apples, caramels, and those delectable crumbly cobbler style muffins and cakes.
I decided to start with the apple’s, as they go so well with fall spices and syrupy drizzles, which are my weakness.
Personally, I believe that an apple can make or break the flavor combinations in certain styles of bakes. While many apples are plenty sweet, tart, and juicy when you eat them raw, things change when you bake with them. If the apple isn’t tart enough to stand up to all the sugary flavor, the apple flavor gets drowned out, if you know what I mean.
So began my mission toward successfully baking a gluten-free apple cake from scratch… no more store bought box mixes! It was time…
First, I needed to find a recipe that I could follow for a flavorful apple cake, and gluten-free. Honestly, I see amazing videos on Facebook all the time, which is where I watched a woman make these jaw-droppingly glorious Apple Crumble Muffins. The down side was that it wasn’t gluten-free, and also made with muffin tins, which I don’t have unless my girlfriend brings hers over when she comes for Sunday Coffee/Tea.
So, I headed back to Pinterest, which is God’s gift to all DIYer’s!
I realized that an apple cake or bread was the better choice for this recipe, as using a muffin recipe can have unpredictable results when converting it to a bake in a cake or bread tin. I decided on a cake recipe, as I want to save the bread one for a pumpkin dessert I’m attempting to bake for you, on a different episode.
While I was forced to make numerous adjustments, which I will share as we go, under no circumstances do I wish to take any credit away from those that came before.
Here’s the original recipe and link, as I’m certain that this recipe will be just as wonderful, if not better than mine. Be sure and check it out…
High Protein Apple Crumble Cake (Gluten-Free!)
Make this Gluten-Free Apple Crumble Cake and fall obsessed in minutes! This high-protein dessert is a dream come true for so many reasons; it’s decadent without being heavy, it’s gluten-free and easy to digest, it’s sweet but not going to spoil your sweet tooth and it’s just downright beautiful! It’s packed with warm spices and the addition of protein powder makes it a nutritious choice, perfect for enjoying any time of day and sure to become a seasonal favourite.
Preheat oven to 350d. Grease and line an 8”pan with parchment paper and set aside.
Add oil, sugar, eggs, milk and vanilla to a bowl and whisk to combine.
In a separate bowl add dry ingredients and whisk to combine. Add dry to wet, whisking till you reach a smooth batter. Add chopped apples and fold them in until combined.
Pour the batter into the prepared pan, smoothing it out with an offset spatula.
Make the crumble topping by adding dry ingredients to a medium sized bowl.
Pour melted butter on top and stir to combine. The crumble should hold together when squeezed.
Scatter the top of the cake evenly with the crumble topping.
Place in preheated oven and bake until a skewer comes out clean from the centre of the cake and the cake is golden brown, 45-50 minutes.
Let the loaf rest in the pan for 15 minutes before removing the springform ring. Carefully transfer the cake to a wire rack to cool completely.
While cake is cooling make the glaze. Add glaze ingredients to a small bowl and whisk to combine.
Once cake is cool drizzle the top with the glaze and enjoy!
**Disclaimers** My cooking skills, ingredients, and baking tools are all based on real world baking! Not everyone can afford most of the high end name brands, or the organic labeled ingredients that triple the price simply by saying the words Gluten-free, Dairy-free, and the like. I also don’t think that the craftsmanship of said measuring cups and spoons, pans, trays, and/or cooling racks need be a deal breaker. I once watched a video of a guy making an entire burger on a clothing iron, and I would have eaten it! Rule for today is… sometimes ghetto get’s the same result! It depends on how hungry you are for somethin sweet, I guess.
Now, back to the bake…
So, with recipe on board, I set about my task of mastering the Apple.
I chose SugarBee for our apples, though you may have your own personal favorites.
As you may have noticed, there was far more sugar sweetening in the recipe, than apples, in my opinion, so I did some changing in regards to that drizzly sugar syrup topping. I also didn’t have any safe protein powder to add, as many use wheat and I don’t have the one she recommends. If any of you do this recipe and use the protein powder, please let me know how it turns out. I may go back later and try doing it with said powder added, just to see.
What I decided to do was add an extra quarter cup of my gluten-free flour to offset the moisture. I also did a radical change to the crumble topping, so watch for it, as we go. Alright, let’s do this!
First things first… we need to prep. A clean baking environment, breeds success…
I absolutely do pray that God gives me success, when baking. I need all the help I can get!
Apples peeled and diced. Half were set aside to be mixed into the cake…
The other half were turned into an apple compote, with quarter cup sugar, quarter cup brown sugar and quarter cup plant-based butter. I used Country Crock…
I didn’t make any other changes to the cake recipe, aside from the protein powder. I used Oat Milk in mine, but she says that you can use any plant based milk. I took the apples that were set aside, tossed them in some of the cake mixture, and then mixed them into the cake mix.
After lightly spraying my 9 inch cake pan with Olive Oil spray, I poured the cake mixture into my pan.
Here is where I went off the reservation… and a miracle happened!
I took all of the apple compote, liquid and all, and poured it on the top of my cake mixture. Looks reckless, doesn’t it? I didn’t stop there, though…
I filled that bad boy all the way to the rim of the pan with the crumble mixture, minus the pecans (I didn’t have any) from the recipe above. I was so worried that it would overflow before the sugar had a chance to caramelize and soak into the crumble mixture that I put a dish under it to catch the spills.
I realized early on that 350 for 45 – 50 minutes wasn’t going to get it done for this monstrosity, so I baked this apple crumble bomb at 380 for a whapping hour and 15 minutes… I know, right?! What was I thinking?
I think sometimes God loves to show favor on His children in some of the smallest, and most unexpected ways… that’s part of why I love God so!
Don’t ask me how, but I watched a miracle unfold, right before my oven eyes…
The only way that I can describe this would be to suggest one combine the most deliciously moist and flavorful apple cake/pie they’ve ever had, with the chewiest and gooiest apple oatmeal cookie known to mankind!
It was so heavy that I had to use two plastic plates from the Dollar Tree just to flip it over and out of the cake pan…
The apples didn’t sink to the bottom, nor was the cake stodgy or too bready, even after placing that pie filling on top, before baking.
I know the lighting is terrible, but I hope you get the idea… light and fluffy, with a caramelly crunchy topping.
I wouldn’t dream of taking credit for this amazing recipe, nor do I wish to forget the video from Facebook that gave me the idea for the compote, so please be sure to visit this site, as well. You never know, perhaps you’ll want to make them, too. https://www.facebook.com/reel/1226523166181722
I would have to say that this experiment in gluten-free baking was quite literally, The Bomb! Mee-maws Apple Bomb, that is…
(I’ve added the photo, but the content is in it’s original form)
“However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me- the task of testifying to the gospel of God’s grace.” Acts 20:24
If I woke one morning to find myself standing at the finish line of a race, with a trophy in my hand and a bunch of people cheering, I would be quite confused. I would be wondering why it was such a big deal and would feel kind of funny standing there with some silly little trinket in my hand. The blood, sweat, and tears that it takes to run that race are what makes the finish line so valuable, and what gives that trophy such importance.
There are so many times where I think I have it figured out and then things go in a completely different direction. It reminds me that He is God and I am not. I always look back from the other side of things and see so clearly how things went the way they did and why. I think, how did I not see that, because it is so obvious. I am realizing that I do not have nearly the patience and faith that I think I do. There is so much less fear and frustration when I do not seek beyond one day at a time. Tomorrow is never certain so why waste my time worrying over what is not here yet. If I focus on what I choose to do, say, and feel in today, I am much more content and I see more of what He wants of me.
The journey is where we find value, making us who we are. I think I want to look to my finish line and see my Heavenly Father waiting for me with love, hope, and open arms; then I can strive everyday to find joy in my journey and finish well!
Journey With Me! 