Since Mother’s Day, I have been considering the importance of leaving a legacy. What exactly is a legacy? Webster's dictionary defines it as “something transmitted by or received from an ancestor or predecessor or from the past.”
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She jumped out of the booster seat onto the floor of the minivan, and reached for her mom to help her onto the ground. At four years old the world was such a big place—and so fascinating! Every visit to the park, the library, the store, and the science museum promised new adventures and raised her excitement levels.
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Several years ago, I was privileged to attend an adoption ceremony that touched me deeply. A special family was adopting a precious little boy. As the official proceedings took place, I experienced a fresh insight into our relationship with our heavenly Father.
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There’s one thing about the Holy Ghost. You just never know when he’s gonna make something into a teaching moment. So, a couple of weeks ago, when I was thinking about the Kingdom of God, and praying, “Your kingdom come, O Lord,” the Holy Spirit said something that upended some of my theology.
“Don’t you mean our kingdom?”
For a second, I didn’t know what to think.
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Christmas morning...
The cold gray San Joaquin Valley fog seemed to close in around me as I drove. The morning had already been filled with experiences and circumstances that left me feeling as cold and gray on the inside as the fog appeared on the outside. My thoughts replayed the phone conversations, the people I loved and cared about, the hurts and struggles.
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During my first trip to Israel in 2004, I had a revelation of what God did on my behalf when he hung on the cross and just how much God loved me. As I strolled through the Garden of Gethsemane I wondered if he saw my face before I was born. I walked over to the nearby Church of All Nations that was built over the rock slab on which Jesus prayed before his betrayal by Judas in the Garden. I knelt by the rock and reflected on the night before his crucifixion. As I reached out and laid my hand on the rock, I began to sob, racking sobs. In that moment I realized just what he had done for me. It became real to me. When I think back on that experience, I realize just how powerful God is and how that increased my confidence in who he is, who I am, and my security in him.
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Have you ever felt jealous of God’s choice of someone to fill a position you wanted? I have.
Have you ever felt disappointed because God chose a different path for you than you wanted? I have.
Have you ever felt angry because God allowed someone inferior to you to become your boss? I have.
I think everyone has felt jealous, disappointed, or angry at some time or another and yet I doubt any of us would have concluded we were calling God not very smart. Well, maybe I must confess I did realize it at the time—now that I think about it.
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I leaned my head against the window as the plane began to ascend.
How long will I have to fly alone? I thought to myself, as I pushed my head harder against the window and felt that familiar tinge of loneliness. Another long flight by myself. Another lonely night in a hotel room. Another weekend of ministering to women, yet still feeling the burden of doing it alone.
Even when you’re ministering to a room full of women, it can still feel lonely, and even overwhelming.
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What image comes to mind when you hear the words fixed or unchangeable? What emotion do these words bring up in you?
The image that comes to mind for me is the insurance commercial with crash dummies. In the commercial, the car careens toward a fixed cement wall, and you feel your body bracing for impact. Then, the inevitable happens: the front of the vehicle crumbles against the wall, the airbag explodes, and the crash dummy is tossed around inside the car—resulting in the immovable object destroying the car and “injuring” the dummies inside.
Or maybe when you think about unchangeable, you remember a time, like me, when I had to scrap the plans already in motion for our women's groups to accommodate the plans being made for the whole church—resulting in discouragement and frustration over what seemed like inflexible and unrelenting disregard for our team.
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Yesterday I unexpectedly found myself by a lone bench on an empty oceanfront. A boat was just off the shore, solitary but securely anchored in the sea. I ached with the unexpected beauty, the symbolic solitude of the boat. I felt like this boat. Alone, aching, but securely anchored. As I stood there, I thought about the last two months and how a crisis can set off a whole new cycle of grief and loss.
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