Undefeatable Victory

Recently I have been reading The Hididng Place, Corrie Ten Boom’s amazing testimony fashioned in the midst of the German occupation of World War II. Arrested for her involvement in the underground organization providing shelter and aid to Jewish people during the Holocost, Corrie lived to witness the inhumane conditions and torture of the Nazi concentration camps.

Upon her arrest, Corrie pondered the place God had placed her. Had she been defeated? Why had this happened? Corrie concludes, “But . . . if the Gospels were truly the pattern of God’s activity, then defeat was only the beginning. I would look around at the bare, little cell and wonder what conceivable victory could come from a place like this” (150). However, in the midst of the dark, unpleasant circumstances surrounding her, Corrie tells of God’s faithfulness and the marvelous evidences of His work during that time.

Similarly, as we enter the Christmas season and worship Christ’s birth, we uncover a mind-boggling paradox wrapped in the package of the Gospel. Who would have thought the Son of God would have entered the world in the shelter of a humble stable? What victory could be birthed in such a place? This season proclaims the life of our Savior who would lay down his life to free us from death and the eternal judgment for our sin. However, in the eyes of the Pharisees, the guards, and those standing by, Christ’s crucifixion—His willful sacrifice on our behalf—appeared to mark his utter defeat. Despite the prophesies of old, the Pharisees could not see the true victory fulfilled through Jesus.

But, just as the baby born in the stable shattered Israel’s expectations, many times we question God’s purposes when we face circumstances we do not understand. For example, finding ourselves crushed in the battle against sin, we may question how we can stand victorious against a sinful inclination. Or, like Corrie Ten Boom, we may face physical trials and undesirable circumstances which cause us to question how anything good could blossom from them. What victory could come from this?

But, even so, God uses these weaknesses—apparent defeats—to display His power and saving victory. In the times we are weakest, incapable, and inadequate God reveals His hand at work, His provision, and His faithfulness. Amidst circumstances beyond our control, He turns us to rely solely on Him in desperation. This is victory.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

2 Corinthians 12:9-11

But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.

2 Corinthians 4:7

In the shadows of a prison cell God opened Corrie Ten Boom’s eyes to see the light of His presence like never before. Despite her weakness, He proved faithful. We can draw encouragement from this testimony—the testimony of the Gospel—and stand in awe of the God who conquers the feeble heart, fashioning victory in the unachievable, unexpected, and unknown.

1000+ Thank-Yous

I have been keeping a thankfulness journal with the goal of marking down 1000 thank yous to the Lord. This challenge was initiated by Ann Voskamp, whose blog has been a great inspiration to me. (click button below to view the challenge)




Overall, the 1000 thank you challenge has proved a wonderful exercise for me, motivating me to look for ways to thank the Lord each day. At the close of the day my mind searches for the gifts I can add to my journal's list. As I go about each day, I have become more attuned to the blessings in life, eagerly stowing them in my mind to pour out in my little journal.

They can be big, they can be small. One sentence, one word. All that matters is that one look for and acknowledge God's work, His provision, His blessings.

Although today marks my 1000th thank you, I plan on continuing this habit, numbering my thank-yous to 2000, 3000, . . . the more the better! I am looking forward to seeing how the Lord continues to train my mind through this discipline.

993. CNA registration
994. Daniel in uniform
996. First time skating on the pond this winter!
997. Quiet, relaxing Saturday
998. Squeaky cheese curds
999. Delicate, frosty patterns on the window
1000. Evidences of Your faithfulness marked in this journal.

1001. Relaxing and writing while snuggled on the couch today...
....

Enter his gates with thanksgiving,and his courts with
praise! Give thanks to him; bless his name!
Psalm 100:4

Stop and Savor

With a cup of hot tea in hand, I closed the door and snuggled up in a cozy blanket on the porch. Rays of sunshine pour down from above, red maple glows with leaves afire, wind rushes through the tall grass, chimes softly sing. I crack open a book, my icy fingers clasping the warm teacup as its hot vapor curls upward in the frigid fall air.

I drink its sweetness . . .

All too often we fail to consider the big picture; we box up our minds to only see the duties, the tasks, the trivialities of life. Our focus can be so limited, only giving attention to the needs, the wants, the aches and pains, the schedules, and the responsibilities, causing us to lose appreciation for the season God has placed us in. With selfish focus we gloss over the blessings God has given, the work He is doing, the precious memories in the making. We miss the joys of the treasures given here and now.

Stop. Stretch your eyes. Look for the beauty around you. Like a vapor, these things, these seasons, this life, shall pass. Savor. Remember. Worship.

Warmth of Home

Fall brings a cozy atmosphere, illuminating the richness of home. With leaves swirling in a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors, this season holds a beauty of its own. Blankets stowed in the back closet come out once again, bringing soft warmth against the cold nip of the crisp fall air.

I love days like these -- days to step back, see, and feel the warmth of home. Candles burning with glowing flame, smells of apples and spice, sweaters hanging on the hook, kettle bubbling in the background, hands clasped around a cup of hot tea . . .

Trails of scattered popcorn along the kitchen floor (the only remaining evidence of the tasty popcorn balls I made), delicious and juicy baked apples for lunch . . .


all proclaim the joy of a place called Home.

Sunshine *

I'm treasuring the sunshine, *
its sparkling, shining rays * *
have kissed these golden stars, * * *
and now their faces glow * * * *

Bottled up with lighted smile, * * *
overflowing in endless glee
they tell me of the joy of day * *
Teaching blinded eyes to see

joy in today.
joy in every day.

Pattern of Perfection

His purposes will ripen fast,

Unfolding every hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,

But sweet will be the flower.

>*< * >*< * >*<

Blind belief is sure to err

And scan His work in vain;

God is His own interpreter,

And He will make it plain.

~William Cowper

exerpt from“God Moves in a Mysterious Way,” 1774

For the last several months I have worked on an easy, yet involved knitting project with much trial and error. One could say I “bit off more than I could chew” with this particular project. I have knitted, re-knitted, attached, detached, ripped out, snipped, pulled, and tugged, with hopes that all would turn out right. To put it bluntly, although it has taken form and now shows signs of promise (after I decided to modify the pattern my own way), there is a good chance it may not turn out as I first envisioned. When finished, my sweater may end up worn once and then left in the deep confines of my closet—one of those humble “learning” projects left to be forgotten about. However, I hope it will not be so.

In contrast, as I think about the stitches and rows and the slow development of this piece as it takes form, I am reminded of God’s expert hand in shaping our lives. Unlike me, inexperienced and unsure of the end result, He has planned every curve and has a perfect design in mind. Rather than making adjustments along the way, He has established His plan and intentions for me long before.

How encouraging to know the Lord has a purpose for every little frill, twist, turn, and loop in life. We can rest secure in the knowledge that He knows what lies ahead. We can draw comfort because He is the perfect guide; He leads us—more often, carries us—through all of life, strengthening and preparing us for what He has in store. We can trust Him because He is our light.

>*< * >*< * >*< * >*< * >*< * >*< * >*< * >*< * >*<

Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices; my flesh also dwells secure. For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol, or let your holy one see corruption. You make known to me that path of life; in Your presence is the fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasure forevermore.

~Psalm 16:9-11

For You are my rock and my fortress; and for Your Name’s sake you lead me and guide me; . . . Into Your hand I commit my spirit; You have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.

~Psalm 31:3, 5

>*< * >*< * >*< * >*< * >*< * >*< * >*< * >*< * >*<

Lord, how easy it is to say, “Into Your hand I commit my spirit,” or “I Surrender All,” but give me a heart which truly bows to You each day, desiring Your will and Your ways as my own. Let me give myself wholeheartedly and without reserve to further the glory of YOUR name; help me to walk in obedience on the path You have designed, trusting in your perfect plan and knowing that what You choose is what is best.

Amidst the Storm

Raindrops lightly fall from the sky; a radiant sky half concealed by a dark, billowy cloud. Unfurling its arms to stretch from one corner of the sky to the other, a blanket of black slowly swathes the sky. Its watery tears drop down to the parched ground one by one, quickening into a torrential downpour. Moans and groans effuse from the depths of the growing darkness, casting a bleak shadow on sunlit hopes. One small hole in the clouds permits a single shaft of sunlight to pierce the darkness: a ray of hope amidst the storm.

Carrying the tempest as if with wings so swift, the wind wooshes through the trees. Bending and swaying, the old trees creak back and forth, their leaves rustling and quaking on each limb. Tugged and thrashed by the uproarious storm, leaves break from their comfortable perch and drift with the wind to places unknown.

Eight rows of clothes still hang on the line, having basked in the bright sunshine only minutes before. Now, drenched from the rain, they whip, tangle, and lash in the roaring wind. Seeking to throw them to the ground, the mighty gusts nearly tear the clothes apart. But, pinned securely to the line, they cling and do not let go.

Sheets of rain continue to pelt the earth, filling every crack and crevice. Water spills down the hills and winds through the valleys below. Dry, cracked, and deficient of water, the remains of a crooked creek rapidly fills, overflowing its shallow banks to gurgle and splash through the rough, rocky terrain. Surrounding trees soak up its cool, energizing flow with glee. Their roots plunge deeper, eagerly surging toward the reservoir containing long-awaited refreshment. Their limp arms find renewed strength to lift up their hands to the sky; each head turned expectantly toward the light.