A Thank You Letter to God

By the end of this week the 'illegal' status of listening to Christmas music will be lifted and I can come out of hiding, as I have been listening to Christmas music since before Halloween- yup, I am one of those people. And I'm willing to confess that our habit of starting our celebration extremely early can be slightly obnoxious and annoying, however I will only offer you a small apology. Sorry.

In all fairness, I do acknowledge that I can sometimes rush over Thanksgiving in my excitement of the nearness of Christmas, and in attempts to fully explore the things that I have to be grateful for I wrote a thank you letter to God and I thought I would share it with you.

 

Dear God,

I wish I could say that I thank you every day for little things you bless me with, but it don't.
Perhaps my mind a gets clouded with momentary stress and my heart gets forgetful with temporary happiness. No matter the reason, I am extremely far behind in saying thank you.

I want to start by saying I am extremely thankful for the people you have put into my life. You have given relationships with missionaries around the world to mentor me and show me how to spread your joy. Friends who take the time to listen to my sorrows and make me smile. And the family you have blessed me with knows me perfectly and supports me in all of my trails and victories.

The knowledge that you are watching over me and caring about my troubles, makes me feel very honored and grateful. You have always provided for my needs, why do I worry?

Thank you for loving me and allowing me the privilege of learning how to love you in return. (and man, is it fun being loved by you!)

Then there are all of the little things; the opportunity to learn and grow, my ability to swim, the fun I find in varies activities. The warmth of the sunshine, the beauty of the snow, the healing of laughter, the nurturing of tears. I would have to write on and on and on and on before I even put a dent in a proper list of thank yous I have for you; but since I am limited by time and you are not, I guess that these letters are going to have to happen more often than on Thanksgiving.


Thank you (for everything and then some!)

It's Cold Outside

It is cold outside, really cold. I'm pretty sure that it is in the low teens, and it is one of those days that I am so immensely grateful to be inside, and that I have a place to escape the cold. I grew up in sunny California, and am not used to winters that are this cold (at least not yet), therefore I have no self control in the amount I complain to those around me about how cold I think it is. America's heartland can drop to freezing really quickly and the way the frozen wind blows you around makes you double take your actions because sometimes the degree of your friendliness matches your surroundings. Okay, that is not really true for everyone who lives out here, but I did warn you that I am really good at complaining within this category. As pathetic as this sounds, I was quite content to remain that person who focused on my discomfort in the cold, and no one really challenged me to change my mind, that is until yesterday.

Yesterday I was driving home from church and I pass a man standing on the corner of an intersection holding a sign reading 'Homeless. Merry Christmas.'  I recognized the man as I had seen him in the same spot the week before. Now, I always keep some kind of food and water-bottles in my car to give to the homeless I pass, but as I was getting ready to drive by him, I decided that instead of giving him a granola bar and a water bottle, I was going to go to the nearest Mcdonald's, get hot chocolate and something warm to eat and I was going to go and talk to him.  This decision was a little out of the ordinary for me, as I am fully aware of how potentially dangerous it is for a young lady to approach a stranger alone, but it was an extremely busy and public intersection and I wondered when was the last time someone took the time to talk to the man who so frequently appeared on that corner. So hot chocolate and cinnamon melts in hand I walked up to the stranger, praying that God would keep me safe and give me the right words to say, because I had not really thought through that part out.

David, he told me his name was David. And with a crooked tooth smile that was beautiful and full of laughter he kindly corrected me when I replied 'It's nice to meet you Jeremy!' Where in the world did I get the name Jeremy from? Well, I definitely goofed that one up, I thought to myself, but David amazingly was still willing to talk to me. He told me that like me, he had spent a good portion of his life in California and that he had come out to Missouri to be close to family. He excitedly shared with me his story of helping build a steel-something highway/track thing-a-ma-jig that can be seen in the movie The Terminator 2. And when I asked him how did he stand the cold after leaving California (my toes were numb at this point in the conversation) he told me that God made both hot and cold and he thanked Him for both-that he was just thankful that he could feel the cold. I'm not sure if it was the icy wind or the reminder of how blessed I am, but I almost cried. David then told me that he had a camp set up in southern Springfield and I told him that I would not survive they way he did and that his attitude amazed me. I would have stayed and talked with David longer, but he told me that my nose was turning bright red and that I should probably go and warm up. Wishing him a happy holidays, I left, questioning my own reaction to the cold.


"Give thanks in all circumstances." 1Thessalonians 5:18

All circumstances -Yup- even in the cold. 

I can't promise that I will completely stop complaining about being frozen, but I thank God for this cold. What a great reminder to count my blessings and thank God for all He has made.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Still

I have heard it said that crying helps to cleanse one's mind and while I am not really sure if that worked for me I have had some (more) time and tears to sort through my feelings. Grief is a very funny thing, it seems to often come out of no where and multiply. Sometimes I feel like with all of the things going on in my life to distract me and the amount of time that has passed since my father died, that I would be able to adapt, that the pain would lessen, and I wouldn't cry as much. Thinking logically, I am rather shocked at how much I cried after J. died, after all, unlike many of my friends, I had had the opportunity to say good-bye to her. I hugged her tightly and said good-bye knowing that there may be a chance that we wouldn't see each other again this side of heaven; and yet, when I heard the news of her accident and passing, I entered a depressed state, full of nights of tears and nearly late assignments as my study habits slowed to a crawl. In my shock I ranted and raved at all of you about how much I did not like change . Unfortunately, feelings like this are doomed, as everything is constantly changing, the world around us, those I love and even myself. And while I was pouting over my inability to avoid this painful change, mentally demanding of God to tell me one thing in my life that did not- does not - change, a simple phase came to mind,

"Jesus no cambia."

I learned this sentence during my time in Panama, and besides Ayudarme! (help me!) and ¿Cómo estás?(How are you?) it is the only Spanish I have managed to keep in my memory.


"Jesus no cambia."

"Jesus does not change"

The children would follow us through the village yelling this at the top of their voices with passion and excitement. And who wouldn't? As the memory of children rejoicing, I wanted to run through the streets myself shouting 'I am loved by a God who does not change!' While I go through the ups and downs of life, He is still with me, still knowing me, still loving me. 

 

Unlike my restless heart and nature, God is Still - calm, steady, resistant to change. He is good, always has been and always will be. He is the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like the shifting shadows (James 1:17). And I am okay because He is still God.

And it's okay for me to change; for me to grieve. For me to mourn for those who I have loved.

 Last week my family sent several balloons to heaven in celebration of what would have been my father's birthday. (And yes, I realize that those balloons will probably send a couple of sea turtles to heaven as well.)

It has been 1,320 days since my father died, and I still miss him. I still cry.

But God is still good.

Change

This morning I found out that a dear childhood friend of mine suddenly passed away and it hurt, really hurt. All of the biology knowledge I have stored up in my brain is telling me that death is just a part of life and that life is not be possible with out it; but in my heart I know that death is the absence of life - there is no death without life first. Childishly, I wish I could assist death in choosing who it took, and argue that J., who was so full of life and passion, should have been on the bottom of the list. To say that death quite simply cannot rob the world of the treasure we all found in her. I want to stomp my feet and throw myself in the middle of the floor yelling and screaming that things shouldn't change.

I don't like change.

While it is exciting to watch my friends grow up and strive for amazing careers as doctors, teachers, counselors, firefighters, nurses, missionaries, pilots and soldiers, I constantly think about the days when we were little and played basketball in the park, had late summer night bonfires and randomly danced and sung together. Sometimes I just don't want to grow up, but return to the happy days of my childhood, back to the days when I didn't worry so much about my future and following the standard of others, but lived with a pure and simple joy. Spending my childhood with J. I never would have guessed that the power to continue spreading joy throughout the world would be given to me instead of her. I always thought that J. was going to live an extraordinary life, and  I would excitedly say 'I know that girl!'. J. did live and extraordinary life, and blessed and touched so many people, but here am I, dealing with change and only getting to say that 'I knew that girl'.

Well, I guess I can say more than that. I can say that I knew that girl and was extremely blessed by her kindness and caring. I can say that I knew that girl and was motivated by her passion and love for Jesus and supported by her friendship. And because I knew that girl, I am forever...changed.