Lilley of the field

Grace. "Grace and peace be with you." These words are the bookends of almost every chapter Paul writes in the Bible.  A salutation and a benediction. A greeting and a farewell. It is as if Paul can't seem to emphasize it enough:  No matter was is held between these pages, make sure it is held in light of grace. Read it with the lens of grace. These are the bookends of life. Grace in Genesis. Grace in Revelation. Grace in the Garden of Eden. Grace in the New Jerusalem. Grace in your waking. Grace in your sleeping. Grace when the sun rises. Grace when dawn falls. Grace in your laughing. Grace in your crying. Grace in the valley. Grace on the mountain top. Grace in the desert. Grace in the meadow. Grace in the kneeling. Grace in the running. Grace in living. Grace in dying. Grace in your coming. Grace in your going. Grace when you inhale. Grace when you exhale.  Grace, grace, grace. "Therefore, since we receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken,

A good friend and former college roommate, once caught a glimpse of a crisp yellow post-it note attached to my undersized and overused dorm room desk that included these two items among a short list of relatively normal activities:     -nap     -have dinner She laughed endlessly and it became a sort of inside joke. I laughed at that memory today while mulling over my to-do list. There's no room to write that and no thought of even adding that to my list now-a-days. Of course, I do those things, but I laugh at the deeper meaning of to-do lists. Some people live by them, some people drown by them. Some people ball them up and throw them out the window, some people color-code them and tack them to their fridge. Some people find it gives them freedom, some people find it chokes their freedom. Me? Well, I've been both and everywhere in between. For one, I can't remember a darn thing without writing it down so it's a slight necessity for me. For seconds, there's

I am chosen. You are chosen. By God. To live, to breathe, to walk the earth, to speak, to move, to dance, to laugh. I was encouraging Aaron tonight and was struck by the truth I was telling him that I so often fail to believe myself. I am not the bottom of the barrel pick. I am not runner up. I am not plan B, C, or D. You name a title and I'lI  tell you that too often believe the lie that I am not enough in that area- Wife. Friend. Teacher. Children's Ministry Leader. Deacon. Daughter. Sister. House church leader. No, I am a chosen, royal, holy- a child chosen for His possession, so that I may proclaim the praises of the One who called me out of darkness into His marvelous light (paraphrase of 1 Peter 2:9). He chose us to be right here in little ol' Clemson, SC. We tried to go other places, but He brought us back here. And sometimes we wish we could leave things behind, but the beauty for us is in staying. The beauty is in being chosen by God. The beauty is in the