As I was sitting on my front porch early this morning, I was struck once again by the silence. I need this time of quiet reading and reflection in my life. Daily I am amazed by how God meets me here and so very often gives me just the Word I need...for that day. 

This past weekend I attended a two day event called the IF:Gathering at Life Point church here in Lake Stevens. Have you heard of it? If not, I think I'll just post the words of Jennie Allen, the founder of IF:Gathering.

I was at a party the other night, and I overheard someone asking a friend, "Do you have a Christmas that is most memorable for you?" Though the question was not directed at me, it got me thinking as we drove home

Perhaps thinking and writing about the experiences of my dad and his brothers in WWII has caused me to to get stuck in a bit of time warp. I love reading about the stories and history from the 1930's and 1940's. As I was sitting in my chair out on the chilly front porch early this morning, I thought, "Wouldn't it be nice to be cozied up to a fireplace?

Several years ago I read a book called,  One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are by Ann Voskamp. The book chronicles her personal journey to learn to give thanks for the seemingly mundane, the daily things of life, and yes, even the hard times

This morning I awoke to that very familiar sound to us Northwesterners...Rain. Though part of me just wanted to roll over and pull the comforter over my head, I knew I had to get up. I had a running date scheduled a little later in the morning so it was time to get the coffee going and spend a little time on the front porch in the Word. As I sat there, my phone blinged and I had a message from one of my running partners..."Raining :)."

Why should I feel discouraged, Why should the shadows come, Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heav'n and home?" These lyrics from an old gospel hymn resonated with my heart this morning. Waking early, I took my cup of coffee to the porch and looked out over the still darkened lake, with the tip of Mt. Pilchuck covered by clouds in the distance. The early morning weather matched my mood...a little dark, a little discouraged.

My sister recommended a book a couple of months ago that she thought I would like. Not knowing too much about it, I downloaded it on my Kindle and proceeded to read, finishing it in a couple days. I had a hard time putting it down. Right away, I loved many things about this book...the fact that it was a true story; that it occurred in the 1930's, just prior to WWII;  and that the primary setting of the story took place right here in Seattle. Have you guessed which book I'm talking about yet?!!

The other night my husband and I took a slow cruise around the lake...and enjoyed this beautiful sunset. During the boat ride, we had been looking at houses, talking about our memories growing up on the lake, and some of our early memories as a couple

As I was out running yesterday with my friend, Becky, she mentioned it was her first Father's Day without her dad...who passed away in February. She talked about how strange it was not to buy a card or see her dad on this special day set aside to honor fathers. I could only agree with her...although I have been without my father for much longer. 

Remember when you heard about the mudslide in Oso, WA on March 22, 2014.....a mudslide that came totally without warning on a peaceful Saturday morning a little past 10 a.m.? In a matter of seconds, a number of homes at the base of the slide were lost and over 40 people lost their lives. This hit very close to home to many of us here in Snohomish county...perhaps because we actually knew some of the victims or family members, or knew some of the first responders who worked tirelessly at the site for days, or knew medical and government officials involved in the aftermath of the slide.  

Recently I re-read a book I was given over 20 years ago called Bright Legacy. The book is a compilation of  word “portraits” of ten outstanding women, including Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Amy Carmichael of India, Catherine Marshall, and Madame Lafayette, to name a few. What do they have in common? All are outstanding women who were chosen when ten women writers, such as Elisabeth Elliot, Madeleine L’Engle, Kitty Muggeridge, Ingrid Trosbich, and Rebecca Manley Pippert, among others, were asked the following question, “Would you write about someone you particularly admire, a woman remarkable for her generosity, love, and faithfulness?"

"It's Friday....but Sunday's comin'!" This phrase was made popular by a speaker named Tony Campolo years ago. Campolo was a guest speaker at my college and he was riveting. I love this message! In his words... It's Friday....you feel stuck...out of luck...out of hope...the world is telling you that you won't amount to anything...you feel worthless...as things have been, so they shall be....things seem dark and gloomy....Jesus is dead on the cross....But hold on! Sunday's comin'!

Do you ever feel unseen?

You go about your work…diligently, and no one seems to notice how hard you work. 

You go about your home…cleaning, doing laundry, grocery shopping, fixing meals, paying bills, planning and organizing the details of life…and no one in your family seems to really notice or acknowledge all that you do.

You go about living your life...treating others with kindness, giving behind the scenes, loving those around you...and most seem to take your actions for granted.

I have to admit...sometimes I feel this way. And as I'm plugging along, I start to wonder, "Does God see me? Does He care about my struggles?

One of my favorite signs of spring is seeing and hearing the birds outside my windows. During the past five years or so, our family has been going through a season of trials.Though it has often felt like God was strangely silent, yet, through all of this, God used one of his creatures to speak to me and encourage me…birds. 

I had four memorable encounters with birds during these years. Our old house had floor to ceiling windows that looked out over Lake Stevens. During my early morning devotions, I would often look out and see a crane, standing at the end of our neighbor’s dock, just silently looking at the water…a sign of God’s silent presence in my life.

Earlier this week, I had lunch with my Aunt Lydia in Mill Creek. Lydia is my dad's baby sister, second to the youngest in a family of eight children that survived to adult hood in a farming town in western North Dakota. My grandparents were Norwegian immigrants, farming on homesteaded land. Sadly, they later lost their farm during the Great Depression, after nine years of consecutive drought...because they could not pay the land taxes. 

This classic, lovely, white church in the country reminds me one of the churches my grandfather, Hans Olaf Mosby, served near Frost, Minnesota. Though the church I attend looks nothing like this one, I do love going to church on Sunday morning. And, I love that my church is rather small as congregations go. 

You see, I have belonged to the church I currently attend for much of my life. My parents helped start the church when I was 11 years old. We met in an older existing church building in the Hartford area of Lake Stevens in those days. Whenever the church doors were open for some function, our family was almost always there, be it Sunday services, special meetings, potlucks, Bible Study, or Youth Group. Eventually, we got a dynamic young pastor and his wife and the congregation outgrew that building and built the existing sanctuary near Lake Stevens High School. Other than my college years and a 5 year stint in Anchorage, AK, I have been a member of this church.

Several years ago, instead of making New Year's resolutions that often lead to feelings of failure and defeat later on, I began choosing a word or two to be the focus of the year ahead.  When the economy was really down, and consequently so was my builder husband's construction business, I chose Surrender and Trust. A year later, I chose Persevere....things were still tough. The next year, Thanksgiving, after reading Ann Voskamp's book, A Thousand Gifts. The following year, Joy, based on James 1:2..."count it all joy, when you face trials of many kinds...". And last year, Refuge, as we entered the year settled after a move to another home, with immense relief from paying off a business line of credit at the bank. This year, as I was praying prior to New Year's eve, the word that just kept coming to mind, over and over, was Hope.  I love the meaning of hope, not wishful thinking, as we so often use the word,  but expectant waiting. I'm waiting expectantly on God, full of hope, for His redemptive story to be played out in the lives of several dear ones.  A psalm that so speaks to this hope is Psalm 130:5...

Some years ago, the movie, "The Nativity Story," came out. When I saw the movie, one of the things I loved was the face of an old shepherd when he approached the creche where Jesus lay. The word that came to mind as I watched the expression on his face was "wonder."  During this Advent season, I want to seek and practice a sense of wonder. One translation of Luke 2:18 says, "All they that heard what the shepherds said wondered  at those things." In Job 37:14, Job invites us to meditate on the "wonders of God."

The weather often turns gnarly in November in the Puget Sound area of Washington. The grey clouds descend; the rain seems to fall sideways, pushed by the wind. The power flickers and goes out, usually right around Thanksgiving Day! Yet, our pastor encouraged us to look for things to be thankful for each day this month. Having read Ann Voskamp’s book, One Thousand Gifts, a while ago, I’ve been intentional being thankful, recording even the minute and commonplace things in a journal.