Category Archives: Daily Walk

Old paths.

Posted on by under Daily Walk, Sin Life

I’ve been reminded this weekend of some things. As much as I’d like to think that there are areas of my life that I have “moved on” from, there are still wounds that haven’t healed. Still old paths I find myself realizing I wish had never been trod, but knowing without those paths, I wouldn’t be on the road I’m on today. All it takes is a song on the radio or a face in a gas station to conjure old memories, and take me back to a time and place I thought I had “settled.” I was over that. Or at least I thought I was.

To see a face from my past, run back to my car, hide until they are gone and then go in the store is not a sure sign that “all is well.”  Agree?  I’m sure I’m the only one who has ever done such a thing. It was an eye-opener for me, though. And it got under my skin.  To the place I don’t like to go. The place I have worked very hard to bury. Deep.

What is it about those painful past roads in life that we want so badly to forget and move on and never look back, but inevitably we are forced to?

Perhaps it is so we DON’T forget.

Not saying living in the past is the answer. Surely, it’s not. But a good shot of remembering where we came from and how far we have come is not so bad either.

Paul says in Romans 6:20-23,

“For when you were slaves of sin, you were free in regards to righteousness. But what fruit were you getting at that time from the things of which you are now ashamed? For the end of those things is death. But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

That’s a healthy dose of scripture for me today. A great reminder for me this morning.

Yes, I’ve sinned. Yes, I was a slave to my sin for a long, long time. Yes, I cannot deny that path or the choices I made. I was very fruitful in my sin and I was on the road to death. I was on the road to death.

BUT, I have now been SET FREE and am a slave to sin no longer.
I am a slave of God and my fruit is now life giving.
Life sanctifying…being made new.
Set apart for a higher calling. For LIFE. Not just a full life here, but life everlasting.

I think God allows us to be reminded of where we’ve been so we remember how far we’ve come.

And if you haven’t made the choice for Life, it’s not to late.

It’s never too late until it’s too late.

If you are reading this, it’s not too late. If God is calling you, it’s not too late.

God is the great path changer.  Where He leads is always better than where we think we want to go. Take it from a woman who knows. She’s followed the road to the greener grass only to find it wasn’t green at all.

The road from the old path to the new path isn’t always easy. It’s isn’t always smooth. It certainly isn’t the same path that everyone else is on. But it’s the RIGHT path. The peaceful path. The life-giving path. The ONLY path worth taking.

And it’s as much your choice as it was mine. Never be deceived, we choose our path. We may not choose what road blocks we will face on the path, but we choose which path we take. And there is only One path that comes with a constant companion to get you over and through the road blocks.

Rest in that today, friend. Old paths remind. Don’t stay on them. Learn. Grow. Then choose the path that leads to Life and GO.

Graciously,
Meredith

Clean laundry.

Posted on by under Daily Walk, Perfectly Imperfect, Sin Life

Another confession about me. I’m a stuffer.

What kind of stuffer, you ask? Like you stuff your face with food? Well, yes, I do that. A lot. It’s another form of therapy for me. But no, I’m referring to something much worse than that.

I stuff “stuff.”

All kinds of stuff. Stuff that happens to me that I really want to blow up and spit back at whoever it came from…but I don’t. (Not usually, anyway). I stuff it. Maybe not all neat and tidy. But I stuff it. Where I can find it, but nobody else can.

I know exactly where the stuff in me is and I can readily pull it out if needed, but mostly I just keep it there, where it doesn’t hurt anybody else.

If you tell me something that “hurts,” I can put it in the “hurt” pile and you and I can keep on moving along. I promise I won’t bring it back up, I’ll just stuff it. But if I do ever need to bring it back up…I readily can.

If you say something that makes me “angry,” I can put that in the “angry” pile and you and I can keep on moving along (possibly after a bit of a silent treatment…but it won’t last forever.) That can be a bit of a sloppy pile, but it’s tucked away where you won’t be affected by it, either.

But then one day, after all the stuff has been stuffed, and my piles get too big, it’s time to take them to the cleaners. I can’t stuff anymore. Like that basket of clothes that the lid won’t close on and you realize you can’t put anymore in until you wash what’s already stuffed inside.

So I have to take them out. One by one by one. And put them in the washing machine and clean them. And then air them out to dry. Well, this is what I should do anyway. A lot of times, they just pile up and up and up and then I implode.  Or explode.

My husband likes to say “a five gallon bucket will only hold five gallons.” Yeah, I’ve heard that one a lot. For some reason, I have this uncanny ability to stuff things. Emotional. Physical. It’s just something I do. I stuff.

So, when my bucket gets full and it can’t hold anymore, I often choose the wrong course of action and explode.

It’s all a girl can do somedays.

And for a minute I feel better. But whoever and whatever was in the general vicinity is now dirty from my explosion. Or wet from the “ugly cry.”

I really want to become better at taking my dirty piles and sorting them. One by one by one. Washing them clean with thought and forgiveness and Truth. Then I can air them out after they are cleaned. And one day I hope that by learning to do this, my piles won’t get so big in the first place. Then I can leave room for peace and contentment and a clean heart. Instead of a dirty heart.

By stuffing so much “ick” inside me, it can’t help but bleed over to other parts of me.

My attitude. My speech. My ability to love and forgive. My ability to TRUST. I seem to have a lack of that lately.

Why is it so hard to believe that God will take care of me, when He has never proven He won’t? It just is for me. I admit that. There is another confession. I am a worrier. Big time at times. It is a super-duper horrible flaw passed from one generation to the next.

I am also a recovering control-freak. I say “recovering,” because at least I want to be recovering from it.

I lose all control when I feel like I’ve lost all control.

That’s why quitting my full-time job with benefits most people would die for, to stay home and be a mother and teacher to my two children and pursue a photography dream was absolutely crazy. And I knew the day would come that I would second guess my decision. Did I really do what God was leading me to do? Will the money really come that we need to buy gas, groceries and pay insurance…much less keep the lights on and the telephone working?

So far it has. And I have to believe it will.

This post is for me today. Maybe someone else is struggling with their faith. I know through my reading in Genesis recently, so many of God’s huge “heroes of the Faith” struggled, too. Abraham and Sarah chose to take God’s promise for a baby into their own hands. It created heartache and undue stress. Find that story here.

Good reminder. Stay out of God’s way.

When He promises to do something…He will. In His time. In His way.

Sigh.

Yes, I need that reminder. Often.

I’m not perfect. Just perfectly imperfect, remember? And I’m working out my faith daily.  One tedious step at a time. Sometimes one needless worry at a time.

I’m working on it. He’s working on me. Together, with His help, I pray I’ll be better at it tomorrow than today.

But I have to take it one day at at time. I just need enough faith for today. Tomorrow will take care of itself.

Now, I think I’ll go clean some laundry.

Graciously,
Meredith

The masks we wear.

Posted on by under Daily Walk, Perfectly Imperfect, Religion

I have a confession. I am officially “recovering” from many things in my life.

I’m a recovering perfectionist. A recovering do-gooder. A recovering wine lover. A recovering people pleaser.

I have always been good at making people believe I was who they thought I was. Who I thought they wanted me to be.

In the fray, I’ve become good at wearing a mask. Sometimes more than one mask. Masks are safe. They hide the ugly. Or at least the perceived ugly.

I’m reading (loosely termed) a book by Emily P. Freeman, “Grace for the Good Girl.” That is in-between toddler meltdowns, World War III stand-offs and WW wrestling match refereeing. I digress.  I am slowly reading this book and it is hitting home in a lot of ways. Not so great ways, but it’s making me think. And thus write. And I’m only in chapter 4, so there may be more of this book/soul review to come.

She is discussing the masks that “good girls” wear and I am finding I have worn or still wear so many on so many days. It’s so easy to put our worth in things other than what Jesus says is beautiful and right and lovely. It’s also easy to let our emotions get the best of us. It certainly is for me.

I quote Emily,

“Our fluctuating humanness is there on purpose, to remind us of our need and draw us to the One who can meet it.”

She goes on to talk about our emotions and that we may not know how or why they come, but we have to admit we have them and to embrace them.

Um, yes. I have emotions. Lots of them. And anyone in my household could attest to how fast and furious they can change. And this has been bothering me. A lot. I’m not supposed to be angry. I’m not supposed to struggle with depression. I’m not supposed to be “blah” on any given day for no given reason. But somedays I just am.

And these great words from this soul sister has reminded me why. Newsflash! I’m not supposed to get through this thing we call life on my own.  I’m supposed to turn to the One who created me, with every given emotion I feel and live…the good, the bad and the ugly.

Of course in the heat of the moment or depth of discouragement, Jesus is at times the last person I want to turn to. I don’t even know why. My own selfish pride, I suppose. I’m supposed to be able to fix things myself. But like I mentioned in An Island, there comes a time when I realize myself is not enough. I can’t do it alone. Then I turn to the One who can and will give me help.

Sometimes all I can muster is a simple, but earnest, “Help me. Father, please just help me.”

And He does. And there is comfort again. And there is hope again.

And I believe our Father loves a simple plea for help from His children. Knowing we never realize His worth and our need for Him until we finally offer that plea. And in Him we find the strength we need to climb another mountain. And referee another fight. And cook another meal for people who may not seem to care.

He cares. He knows. He loves you.  And if you are a recovering mask wearer like me, stay strong. Keep it off when you can. And when you forget or your emotions get the best of you…remember Who to turn to.

What a boring world it would be if we had no emotions. God gave them to us for a reason. He certainly wants us to experience them and find ways to harness them for His glory. And when we can’t, He wants us to come to Him for help. So we can go back out and finish the good work He has started in us.

I love being able to love. I love being able to cry. I thank my God that I can feel joy and even sadness. It shapes who I am. It makes me real. It gives me a reason to take the mask off. And just be me. And for you to just be you. Your Father wouldn’t have it any other way.

Love and Grace to my fellow recovering mask-wearers,
Meredith

He is making all things New.

Posted on by under Daily Walk

Snow. Who doesn’t love snow? Don’t answer that if you don’t love snow. I live in a place that only sees one or two snows a year. And I love snow. And so do my children. Who have been asking when it was going to snow since October, maybe? I lose track. A long time, anyway.

I don’t know why I love snow so much. The aftermath is never fun. Mud. Muck. Wet and cold.

I think it’s the anticipation. And then seeing it fall.

Beautiful. White. Clean. Fresh. Wholesome. Snow.

It just makes my heart happy. Then to wake up and see the ground and trees and everything covered in a beautiful white God-given blanket. It stirs me. And makes me feel alive. And remember that God is truly Good. And He is making all things New.

Now and forever. New. There is Hope.

Just like the snowfall covers the barren ground, God can come blanket your barrenness. My barrenness. He wants to. He wants to make you New. He is making me New. It’s a process. He is making.

And one day, one glorious day, He will make all things new again. I can’t wait for that day. I hold fast for that day. When all will be made new. Including me. Yes, there is Hope.

Revelation 21:5 The Message (MSG)

3-5 I heard a voice thunder from the Throne: “Look! Look! God has moved into the neighborhood, making his home with men and women! They’re his people, he’s their God. He’ll wipe every tear from their eyes. Death is gone for good—tears gone, crying gone, pain gone—all the first order of things gone.” The Enthroned continued, “Look! I’m making everything new. Write it all down—each word dependable and accurate.”

Words.

Posted on by under Daily Walk

Words. Something we ALL have in common.We all use them. We’ve all been blessed by them. We’ve all been torn down by them. We know they are powerful. But do we KNOW how powerful they are? How powerful they can be?

The biggest reason I started this blog was because at any given moment, I feel like I have a million words floating around my head that need a place to rest. To come alive. To be shared. And maybe sometimes not be shared. Writing is my therapy. It allows me to say what I can’t easily say. And I have complete control. Another fault of mine. I need to be in control. Note that…I’m a recovering control freak. Through writing, I can purposefully put my words together and hopefully in some cohesiveness that makes sense. At least to me, maybe not to you. If not to you, I apologize. I can only write what makes sense to me and hope it resonates with someone else who may be in the same place as me…or has been there…or is heading there.

In beginning this blogging journey, I also want to be more purposeful with the words that do come out of my mouth. I have a sign hanging above my closet door, so I will see it every morning as I get ready to head into the world…or at least into my own little world. It says, “Lord help my words to be tender today, for tomorrow I may have to eat them.” And yes, I’ve eaten plenty of words in my lifetime.  More than I care to count or remember.

Jesus had something to say about words, too. In fact, here is an exhaustive list of 38 verses about words from God’s Word.

In fact, another name given for Jesus is The Word.

John 1:1
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” (Emphasis my own.)

Wow, there’s something to mull over. Jesus is considered the Word and He was with God in the beginning and in fact, He was God. I really have no words to help that make sense. It just is what it is and I believe it is because God said so.

In any case, words ARE important. We use them by the millions. Some of us daily by the millions. (Ahem…)

And perhaps, some of the most important words we choose to use are the ones we don’t say.

There can be as much or more power in the unspoken and unwritten words as those that we see and hear. This is another area in my life I’m learning to harness. The ability to just. shut. up.

Words matter. They count. I want mine to count for more than just a lot of hot air. I want my words to lift up, not tear down. I want my words to bring glory to my Father. I want my words to breathe life, not suck it out. Lofty goals for a “wordy” girl. Or hopefully, a reforming “wordy” girl.

I feel like this post is a bit wordy. Hopefully someone will get something from it. If not, at least I got it out of my head. 😉

Perfectly Imperfect.

Posted on by under Daily Walk, Perfectly Imperfect, Religion

In so many ways, on so many days…I long…I strive to be perfect.
The perfect mother. The perfect wife. The perfect friend. The perfect Christian.
Even when I know in my head and even in my heart that it is not attainable. I still want to be.

In so many ways, on so many days…I fail. Miserably.

Sometimes I feel like I live in a completely false world. Like we all live in a completely false world.

We share only what we want others to “like” on Facebook.
We tweet only the wittiest comments and quotable quotes.
We instagram the photos we know will be “hearted”.

I am human. I want to be liked. I want to be accepted. I want to BE what I’m supposed to BE.

So…on days like today, when I completely mess up at this gift of motherhood and yell at my kids for just being kids…it hurts.

And on days like today, when I lose my temper with my husband and can’t let the “small stuff” go…it hurts.

You see, the problem with living in a falsely perfect world, is that we aren’t perfect. And when our expectations are set on being perfect, eventually we fail and we fall. And in falling, we become susceptible to all kinds of temptations.

Satan has us right where he wants us. Living a lie. Then when the lie melts before our eyes, we are made vulnerable. Vulnerable to anything but good. Satan is our worst enemy. Not our rebellious two-year old. Not our uncooperative husbands. Not our crazy family. Satan alone. He is like a thief…that comes to steal. kill. and destroy. He hates me. He hates you. He hates our marriages and our families. He especially hates our children.

John 10:10 (ESV)
10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy…

So where is my hope? If this is my life and the world I live in, how can I ever be free? In my life, it looks like this…

FORGIVENESS.

I have to forgive myself. I have to seek forgiveness from those I’ve wronged.  And in asking and receiving forgiveness, there is freedom. I’m getting very good at asking forgiveness from my husband and my kids. I hope I only get better.

And then the rest of the story…

John 10:10 (ESV)
10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.

Instead of living daily in defeat from being imperfect, why not try living life IN the only ONE who was and is Perfect, and claiming our perfect imperfection.  A life completely given to Jesus is the only life with an ounce of hope of making it through this perfectly imperfect world and bodies we inhabit.

Satan makes a lot of promises. He only carries through on what benefits his goals to steal, kill and destroy. God also makes a lot of promises to us in His Word. God’s promises are always fulfilled. Always true. Always just right. And He promises that IN JESUS we can have life and have it abundant. Not perfect. But he also says that in our weakness, He is made strong. Well folks, I give God plenty of opportunities to show his strength. And He does. And He will. He said so. And He’s proven it over and over again.

So, will I ever be perfect? No. Will I fail daily? Yes. But the more I can seek refuge in Jesus and forgiveness when it’s needed, the more complete my life will become. There will I find rest. There will I find peace. There will I find joy. And all in perfect imperfection.

Take heart friends. It’s perfectly ok. 😉

Monday Matters.

Posted on by under Daily Walk, Religion

Monday, Monday. Anyone else dread Monday? Why would I dread Monday, you ask? I am a stay-at-home-mom with little to nothing pressing to do. Ha! Monday’s have to be the devil’s playground. So many things to do leftover from a weekend of not doing what you wanted to do and then it rained and you didn’t get to do anything outside and because your kids were cooped up inside you didn’t get anything done inside you really wanted to do, either. Got that? In my determination to do things “new” and “better”, I’d like to give my Monday’s to God and not Satan. To prepare for my week. Plan my meals. Start the week with a clean house. A fresh start to a new week.  Really, this shouldn’t be so hard. If I wasn’t so perfectly imperfect maybe it wouldn’t be.  I did start my day singing “This is the Day the Lord has made…” to my son. In my efforts to start his day off right, realizing I woke him up with my singing was probably not the nicest thing I could have done. I actually plan on spending the day with my best friend and her daughter cleaning our much neglected horses and barn. That sounds like a plan of success to me. After all, the housework will be here when I can get around to it, right? I guarantee you spending my day outside in mud with friends, my children and some of God’s best creation with four legs will start my week better than more time in my house getting nothing accomplished.

Hoping you get to start your week on the right foot…or the left foot…whichever one gets you going and going straight for a week of purpose. A week devoted to service. Remembering this…we know not how many more Monday’s we have left. What is really important? Do it…Today. Say it…Today. Live it…Today.  I know what is important to me. Asking that same question Pilate asked…”What shall I do with this Jesus they call Christ?” What shall I do with Him today? What shall you do with Him today? What if it’s your last Monday. Make it count.

James 4: 13-15 (ESV)

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.”

A blank page.

Posted on by under Daily Walk, Religion

A blank page. That’s what I see. In some ways that’s how I feel. Perfectly imperfect. The overused “New Year…New You” statement keeps coming to mind. Sometimes I feel like I’m always being renewed. Re-made. Re-worked. I’ve had it on my heart and mind to create a blog where I can just write. I seem to have passions for many areas that I never feel quite up to par in. There is writing…I’ll try to work that out here. There is photography and I followed that hair-brained dream turned reality into a business this past year. Feel free to follow that journey here (under construction for a new site coming in April…yes, the “new” theme is rampant in my life right now.) I have a passion for singing…and God definitely did not bless with me with pipes to bless others…but I believe He enjoys my shower sonnets and my kids and I enjoy some loud moments of praise with hands lifted in my truck!

I came home from church this morning with a strong desire to finally get this blog going. Enough thinking. Time to do. Today’s sermon got me thinking. A lot. The question posed was from Matthew 27:22. As Jesus was standing drenched in his own blood from scourging, wearing a crown of thorns on his by then swollen and unrecognizable form, awaiting his “fate” from the people He came to serve and save, the man in charge of his release or death asked the crowd, “What shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” You know the rest of the story. His people chose his death.  It was his fate.  It became our hope.

The question raised then, beckons still now. In my life. In your life. We choose daily to deny or follow Christ. A choice to be indifferent is still a choice. I want to choose Him. I want to be a “better” daughter to my Savior. I want to be a better wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend…the list goes on. I want to. I really do. But above all, I want to choose daily to do something with my Christ. I want to love Him more. Better. I want to serve Him more. Better. I hope by hashing my thoughts out here I can start the journey to answering this question daily. And to always and forever answer the question of what I am doing with my Christ…for His glory. Always for His glory. Only for His glory.

Will I fail? Yes. I’m perfectly imperfect, remember? But He’s not done with me yet. Praise the Lord, He’s not done with me yet.