To love someone without accepting him/her is not love at all: to love someone just because of feelings is not love at all, for good feelings come and go; what am I supposed to do on the days the feelings aren’t there?
To love someone just because his/her behavior is favorable in my eyes is not love at all; it is simply a conditional response to someone’s actions or words. What happens when the behavior doesn’t fit my mold?
True love is a commitment, a decision, a covenant. I choose to love, to seek the best for someone, to fight for, believe in and accept that person at every turn. When he/she disappoints me, I still choose love. I might hurt, but I will not base my acceptance of someone on behavior. It must be a heart-choice. This heart-choice frees the person loved, and pushes them to be the best they can be.

When I was a little girl, my mom would hang the bed sheets on the line in every season, letting them dry in the sun and wind. She always took the time necessary to iron them, and I loved their crisps folds and how they smelled: a faint whiff of apples in the fall, and the delicate lilac scent in springtime. In the summer, they reminded me of berry jam; in winter, they were filled with the strong, safe smell of wood burning.
On “clean sheets” day, my mother always tucked the top one snugly under the mattress. I’d slip between the top and bottom layers, making just enough room for myself. The linens cocooned me into a world where I was sheltered, inviting me to revel in wonderful sensations; I was a princess for a night, a rescued damsel, or the queen of a beautiful kingdom.

To this day, I believe in the power of fresh linens. I indulge in crisp, cool sheets often, though not so often as to make the experience common. They grant comfort after a difficult day, hope of a better tomorrow, strength to the weary.
Tomorrow will come, and I will give life my best shot once again. I’ll be super-mom, I’ll make my boss look good. But for right now, my exhaustion reminds me once again of my vulnerability.
I just slip into bed. The light fragrance of just-laundered sheets stirs a settled feeling within me. The unexpected invitation to luxuriate in the moment is subtle, and I welcome it quietly, granting myself permission to delight in the now. I close my eyes and inhale the tasty silence. It inches from the pores of my skin to the depths of my soul, filling it with complete surrender. I am going to be okay.

At times, I am amazed that my heart is still prone to wondering away from the One who keeps me safe. I have seen it happen all too often: I get swallowed up by the situations of my life, tossed to and fro violently like a helpless puppet in the midst of mighty waves. Then at some point in the storm, by the grace of God, I finally come to my senses and tell myself to be still and know that He is God. I remember His faithfulness and I drink of it—big, deep gulps. The more I drink, the more I become aware of how thirsty I am. And then, a miracle follows: while the waves are yet crashing and the wind is still raging, I find myself in the eye of the storm. It is a beautifully quiet place, it feels like the safest place on earth, and I discover the wonderful fragrance of Jesus.

How did this happen? How did He settle my heart to such an extend that the deafening sounds and powerful tossing of the waves have stopped affecting me?

As I pondered this the other day, my mind recalled a very precious revelation the Lord gave me in Isaiah 49:16: “See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”
Did you hear this, heart? You are His. You are in the palm of His powerful, strong hand. You are the apple of His eye, His joy and delight. You are His very own possession, His workmanship. He even knows when you sit down on the inside, unwilling to take the next step. And He understands how dangerous this place of standing still is for you, for it is then that the waves will seem too high and the winds stronger than life itself. He knows exactly how to make you come to your senses, how to cause you to be still and remember Him. And then, heart, He helps you to see how parched you are, how deeply you need to drink of Him. In His kindness, He lets you quench your thirst in His presence until the storm is no longer what you see, but your eyes are open once more to Him and you smell His lovely presence.

You are engraved on the palms of His hands, heart. What else matters?

I am so hungry and thirsty for sunshine, longing for warmth and light, long evenings on the patio and the laziness of summer. Yet it looks like winter wants to hang on for a while. The wind is bitter cold and the snow won’t melt. I have to work at not growing weary.
But this morning, as I opened my front door, I heard a bird singing. The song was simple, yet so pure and powerful. My heart skipped a beat, and then raced for a few moments. I found myself smiling, alive with a resurrected hope. My reaction surprised me.
Then I understood: winter’s silence was broken.
I had not realized how still the last few months had been, and how affected I had been by its heaviness, wrapping itself around my heart, insulating them away from life a bit…
I’m not sure really how all of this works, but the bird’s song made everything all right.

I was considering yesterday how busy my life has become. I don’t have any more children at home, but I now have a very time-consuming job (that I love, mind you), a great husband with whom I love to spend time, a wonderful church family to which I am committed and therefore I choose to give it my time and energy. Let alone everyday life, and my kids who live away but still need me, and… and … and …
Am I too busy? Well, sometimes I wonder. But what is my life all about anyway? Each one of my day is full for sure, but I am not sure it is too full. What would I do otherwise, how would I spend my days? It all comes back to time being the currency of my days. I can spend it, waste it, invest it, or just look at it and admire it. Some days, my investment has such a great return; other days, I waste my precious commodity with silly things… But as a whole, I believe my life is full of good things.
Last night, we had a “game night.” Just us and 6 friends. We played games and laughed, and acted ridiculous at times; I laughed till my belly hurt. Now that was time well invested! No doubt about it.

My prayer-friends and myself meet every Thursday morning to pray about all kinds of issues concerning the Lord’s church, His beloved people. We love our coming together in His name, and we have seen many, many miracles take place as we stand together in view of His will.
I have to say that it took us a while to become “one,” but now we have learned to be comfortable and honest with one another, and mainly, we have come to a place of unity in the Holy Spirit that allows us to quickly come in agreement concerning what/who we are praying for.
Four times a year, we get together for an evening meal, each bringing a really yummy dish. We laugh, joke and adress whatever issues need to be adressed at the moment in order to go on more effectively in our Thursday morning ministry.
Yesterday was one of these supper-meetings, and it was wonderful. The food was deligthful of course, and more than ever I came away utterly amazed at the Godly friends I am surrounded by. These precious women are sensitive to Holy Spirit, able to see in the realm of the unseen, completely devoted to their Lord and Master and committed to His cause. I came away strengthened, rededicated and on fire once more for the will of God in my life and in the lives of those I love.
A few years back, my son named us the SWAT team: Shouting Warriors Attacking Today. The name is still appropriate, and each day we will stand and speak forth the will of God in the lives of those around us. Amen!