Author: Jackie

Auntie, school teacher, serving God wherever He calls me.🤍 "Will you let me be your servant, let me be as Christ to you? Pray that I might have the grace to let you be my servant, too."

Silly, Sweet, Sacred: Moments In Scrubs

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Today was a day off, and also a sick day, so I took a break from my usual busy pace to rest.

As always, when I slow down enough to have time to think, moments from the past week of volunteer shifts replay in my mind.

I realize why I’m tired.

There are a lot of intense moments in caregiving. Yet I love it, because of that intensity!

Sometimes it’s a sweet moment, like watching the sunrise with residents.

Or hearing, in response to my “I love you,” these words: “I love you, too. I know it don’t always seem like it. But I really do appreciate all that you do for me.”

She went on to explain why some days she feels the things she does, and my heart aches for the cruelty of the wounds this world inflicts.

That kind of vulnerable admission turns a sweet moment into something more sacred.

In my scrubs, I am ushered into a world that few young people are privileged to see.

I am given a front row seat to witness the beauty of old age (and sure, some of the not so beautiful things that come with it.)

Recently I felt like I was standing on holy ground as I connected with someone who’s been so difficult to reach lately.

Desperate to break through the agitated fog of confusion, I tried singing old hymns while I made the bed.

When I started singing “How Beautiful Heaven Must Be,” the glazed eyes were momentarily replaced with an intense, unwavering gaze.

With an unusual suddenness he rose from the chair, stepped closer, closer, and leaned over to listen intently as I kept singing about heaven.

How do you pray for someone in a moment like that? When the longing to go home is written so clearly on their face, when their earthly body has betrayed them in so many ways… yet no matter how much care is required, we love them, and we miss them when they go.

Some days I come home feeling a bit like an old soul myself.

When you spend your days listening to stories of long ago yesterdays, or chatting about what songs you want sung at your funeral, it’s inevitable. As their caregiver, I am also touched by the glow of the approaching sunset for these people.

It’s beautiful. It’s a privilege.

It calls me to deeper reflection, slower living, gratefulness in each moment, and enjoyment of the simple things.

Maybe that’s why I’ve developed a fondness for adopting tea cups lately… (I think it has more to do with me needing to find my spot in a new community. I like browsing thrift stores for tea cups that have no matching partners, and bringing them home to become part of my tea cup collection.)

But before you think everything about my life is tranquil and holy, please know there are also moments that catch me entirely by surprise.

“Wait until you get old, Jackie,” I am advised by the lady I am transferring from her wheelchair to her bed. “Just wait until you need someone to take care of you.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Cautiously, I replied, “yeah, most of us will reach that place in life eventually.”

She continued, “Well, I will take care of you, so don’t worry.” She paused, thought a moment, then added, “If I’m still able to by the time you’re that old. I hope I can though, because you’re caring for me so nicely now. It would be one way I could hope to repay you.”

As I positioned her in bed I thanked her for her thoughtfulness and assured her I don’t expect to be repaid.

I left the room baffled by the irony of that conversation – I’m still not seeing the logic in it.

But that’s typical of life around here. The search for logic will drive you insane, because most times, there is none.

So I smile and agree that there just might be bears in the dining room, and we should certainly go see them if there are.

I solemnly agree that I just might be going crazy, if my suggestion of breakfastime brings that accusation.

I listen to vivid stories of bygone days and enjoy the obvious embellishments.

I smile at the shrieks and giggles in the common area and go find out what the latest dramatic news is. (Tonight I learned from our younger population that they can’t stand their parents for more than a week at a time, and they’d rather live here with us.)

I mop spills that challenge the laws of physics (who knew one cup of milk could splatter that far?).

I accept hugs even when the giver is wearing their meal on their face and clothing – and then I gently wash the face and change the clothes.

I laugh, pray, sing, and play with them.

In short, I roll with the chaos. I try to keep sight of what is reality among all the confusion.

And no matter how intense it sometimes is for my heart, I love my life in scrubs.

Mercy Raining Down

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It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed. His mercies are new every morning… Great is His faithfulness!

Golden rays touched the world with warmth this morning as the sun rose over the hills once again. I paused to take in the beauty, simply enjoying the stillness at the beginning of what promised to be another lovely spring day.

My coworker stepped outside to join me, and breathed, “It’s like God’s mercies, raining down!”

I smiled, that joyful, glowing smile that I feel bubbling up in my soul so often.

It’s true that it’s the newness of Gods mercies every morning that has kept me going through so much change in my life.

In the exhausting intensity of trying to build so many new relationships, God was creating a place for me in this community.

When being surrounded by people yet “on my own,” God has come close in a new way, and mercifully provides connections with others just when I need them most.

And somewhere, through the winter months, I became not only comfortable here, I began to thrive.

I no longer feel so keenly aware that I’m in a different place than home – because this has become home. For now.

And it’s comfortable.

Just the other day I told a friend, “I think I might be becoming one of those stereotypical single ladies.” More than a little surprised, she asked me to explain.

“Well, I like to sit in my favorite chair (there’s no one else in the living room, I could sit wherever I want, but I always sit in the same chair because… I just do) and then I like to drink tea. I do this after supper, and sometimes I read a book, or I just sit and enjoy the feeling of a quiet evening at home.”

She told me that no matter how much I like an evening with a book and a mug of tea, my personality and lifestyle still prevents me from joining the “stereotypical single lady” population.

I was relieved, but I know I am awfully close. I do love my cozy house, my friends, the people I get to care for, and going for walks outside. 16 year old me might be horrified at how much beauty I find in the simple things, but I don’t mind. This is the life I’m living, and it’s full of joy!

Being adjusted to my job, and having enough people in my life to thrive doesn’t mean God is done yet, though.

God’s mercies have been shining on my life in so many ways lately.

He’s filled my cup full and now He’s making it overflow, blessing me with beauty I didn’t know I was missing.

Long conversations over iced lattes, forming new relationships…

Answered prayers and wisdom given in unexpected ways…

An evening with a friends’ family and being given the gift of feeling right at home with them…

Sunshine on my face as I sit in a meadow on the hillside, writing this post…

Wildflowers, daffodils, birds singing, and a warm breeze.

So many beautiful notes of hope, evidences of God working in my life, and a peace that simply smiles at the unknowns I still face.

God is going to guide my future. I know He’s going to. And while He’s working it all out in the best way, I get to enjoy this moment… and the next… and the next.

I know His mercy will always rain down on me, wherever I am.

Power Divine and a Little Light

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Today was Sunday.

It started with a church service, which had a huge youth Sunday school class because of our youth prayer & fasting weekend.

Our little circle of the usual 10 ish youth enjoyed all the visitors and the discussion they brought.

This was my weekend to work, so next was home for lunch and a long nap.

After that, things started to go off the rails…

I realized I had no nice clothes to wear to work because I haven’t done laundry in over a week. I figured I had enough dresses and scrubs, but forgot to check if I still had anything clean that coordinated…

I dug out a scrub that I really don’t like, because it matched one of the few clean dresses in the closet, and went to work.

Shift report bore the news that our elevator broke down, so the morning staff were unable to take the laundry carts downstairs.

Northern girl that I am, I decided to brave the cold and at least bring a cart of clean towels around the outside of the building, up the hill, and in the door to the main floor.

I forgot about the wind we get on this hill, but by the time I rounded the corner of the building with all those clean sheets and towels, I was committed to the cause and would complete it. I did, with sheer willpower and frozen fingers.

Around this time, my patience started to wear thin. Did I mention my pager was ringing repeatedly, just often enough to nicely interrupt my attempts at preparing the afternoon snack?

I made it downstairs to the disastrous laundry room and took in the heaps of laundry everywhere.

I was wishing I had forfeited the nap to take more time for personal devotions before work, because my cheerful calmness that is such a crucial part of a successful shift was being sorely tested. I resolved to spend time praying while I worked on emptying washers, starting dryers, and hanging up clean garments.

I am so aware that my life needs to be a testimony for Jesus here, and I can’t afford to let my self get in the way.

I sent out a quick prayer request to a couple friends, and trusted God to somehow make a way through the chaos of the evening ahead.

A couple hours later, things were surprisingly calm. A singing group came in and boosted the residents moods so much that my job of emotional support person was greatly lightened.

After they left, some choir songs from Friday evening ran through my mind. I remembered that I don’t know yet which part I’ll be singing solo for “This Little Light of Mine.”

I hummed through all the days while I worked, and my thoughts reflected on the lyrics.

“Monday He gave me the gift of love…” I need Your love today, God. I’m feeling stretched thin.

“Tuesday, peace came from above…” Tuesday is my day off. That is always peaceful.

“Wednesday He told me to have more faith. Thursday He gave me a little more grace. Friday He told me just to watch and pray. Saturday He told me just what to say.”

All of them could be a personal testimony in some way. I don’t know which ones mean the most to me, so I’ll let the choir director decide which days I sing. Maybe the other soloists will claim favourite days.

It was later in the evening when I was thinking about the rest of the song, after the solos, when I suddenly thought about the 7th day of the week.

Sunday.

The day we all will come in on, and sing that line together.

“Sunday He gave me the power divine to let my little light shine!”

I looked at the time. Thought about all the things that had gotten done. Realized I had made it almost to the end of the shift, without losing my patience, and still feeling that love for the residents that drives me to giving them my best every day.

Earlier, feeling my tiredness and concerned that my human self would act up this shift, I had prayed, “God, please strengthen me so that my weaknesses won’t muddy the glass Your Light shines through! Let me be a clear flame for You, shining Your pure Love and Light, untainted by the temptations to be very, very human in testing moments.”

He answered.

I still don’t know which solo part I’ll have but I’m excited to sing the group part –

“Sunday He gave me the power divine to let my little light shine!”

Thank You, Jesus!

A Blessed Christmas

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I’m sitting on my well worn grey sofa after another busy direct care shift, enjoying a few moments of solitude before I go to bed.

My heart is full tonight.

One week ago, I was homesick, wondering what Christmas alone would be like. At work that day, a visitor asked me “How will you like Christmas without your family?”

I blinked back the now-familiar ache of loneliness, and bravely replied, “I try not to over think it. I’m focusing on the real meaning of Christmas, and I’m looking forward to experiencing the Christmas God wants for me here.”

This adorable little lady who I never met before threw her arms around me, and exclaimed “Oh, you dear girl! You are so brave to be sacrificing your time in serving here. I will pray you have a blessed Christmas!”

I went home that night with a warm circle of hope running around my heart…

The next day, I went evangelizing in a train station with a few friends while a choir sang Christmas carols. I had the opportunity to share hope with others who have so much less than I do this Christmas. I have Jesus. He is everything I need.

But I’ve been amazed so often… He gives me so much more.

The choir invited me to join them for the ride home that evening, and old friends introduced me to new ones.

All weekend I was blessed to spend time with good people who I’m gradually getting to know.

And it was so rejuvenating. Exactly what I was needing.

I never realized until I moved to a new area, how hard it would be. How exhausting it is to build so many new relationships.

After visiting home and coming back here, I realized more than ever how much I left behind. If leaving the first time was hard, leaving again was harder…

But faith keeps on. Faith is believing that if God called me here, He has a place for me here.

Faith waits until that place feels comfortable. It takes time until these new relationships form. It takes patience and courage to keep going out and putting in the hard work of getting to know people.

Only now, as I’m settling in and seeing how God is bringing the details together, do I realize just how much of an uphill climb I’ve been on.

But tonight, I’m feeling purely blessed.

Yesterday morning my newly married friend asked me, “What are you doing today? I’m 10 minutes down the road. Can I stop in?”

So I baked cookies while she signed Christmas cards, and we caught up on all the things. It felt so normal, but I paused to thank God for the blessing of living so close to her now. (I mean, it’s still 3 hours, but we used to live in different countries… this feels like a gift!)

This morning I got a message from a friend who was a stranger 6 weeks ago… asking if she could do something with me or if I’m working tonight.

I’m not off this weekend, which she suspected, and her suggestion amazed me: “Can my friends and I come clean your house, then be there to hang out when you get off your shift?”

I had just accomplished all the cleaning, so they said they would wash my dishes instead, and stay until I get home from work.

One hour ago, 5 dear souls left my house. They not only washed my dishes, they brought oodles of snacks for my dorm sister and I… their generosity was incredible.

We had coffee and tea they had made – I had told them to help themselves to whatever they want before I get home, and I was so glad they did.

It’s little things like that that move friendships from “new acquaintances” to comfortable.

And that, I realized, is what I’ve been missing. My friendships at home were comfortable.

I need people to be that comfortable with here.

And God knows that. God has been working it all out, and bit by bit, these friendships have been forming, until suddenly I realize – I am finding my people.

My comfortable place.

My spot to belong here – for the season I’m called to stay.

And I smile as I remember the little lady who prayed for my Christmas to be blessed.

It has been… so blessed that joy is pooling in my eyes and making my chest ache.

How has Christmas alone been?

Thanks to the family of God, I don’t know.

My family and friends back home didn’t forget me. They sent flowers, texts, cards in the mail, and my parents are coming to visit on my day off next week.

And here? I have been amazed at all the people obeying God’s command to love and give. I am finding out for the first time how much support a VSer needs… and the faith it takes to trust God to provide those needs… and the humility needed to receive when others show up to meet the needs in ways I feel undeserving of.

Thank you is becoming a frequently used word – and it holds a ton of meaning.

Spending Christmas away from my family has been a new experience, but it’s been so good.

I can still turn on string lights and listen to Christmas music while baking cookies. I can bring the Christmas feels from home into my world here, drink hot chocolate after work and stay up late watching it snow.

Most importantly, I can worship the One Who brought the best Gift of Christmas, just like I have for years.

But my worship is richer and deeper this year because of the type of Christmas it’s been.

I am learning so much… being loved so well… and feeling so, incredibly blessed.

God is good.

So, so good.

With the Dawn…

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Silent Night, Holy Night…

The carollers sang gently, aware that they were standing in a sacred moment.

All is calm, all is bright…

Their harmonized voices complemented the aura of stillness in hallway of the nursing home, a holy pairing of quietness and soothing melody.

The well worn song had probably been sung for the listener hundreds of times, a lifetime of Christmases.

But this evening is different. For this person, it might be the last Silent Night.

Glories stream from heaven afar…

This thought could be heard in the richness of the music as each voice sang with passion and purpose.

It was evident in their eyes that each one in the group was thinking about the glory of heaven… and heaven felt closer in that place, where one was so close to the gate.

Heavenly hosts sing alleluia!

These voices that were singing Silent Night so richly, that swelled the Hallelujah chorus in a train station just two days ago, were nothing to the choir their audience will hear next.

Yet they sang their best, as if to create a humble prelude of that which is soon to come.

Christ the Saviour is born!

We are celebrating His birth in the face of death… singing of His birth to one who will soon experience the full gift of His resurrection: entrance into heaven.

As the song continued, I saw the emotions of humanity, made vulnerable by the weight of this occasion.

The tears in the nurse’s eyes as she stood in the doorway of her patient’s room… knowing she would soon walk this dear soul to the doorway of eternity, and could go no farther with them.

The thoughtful expression of serious young faces, thinking about a reality they rarely come face to face with.

A smile of anticipation and eyes suddenly alight – are they imagining how wonderful it would be to wake up in Heaven on Christmas morning?

Silent Night, Holy Night…

Inside that room was indeed a Silent Night. For the waiting one, for the caregiver, for loved ones.

But we still sang. Who were we, to sing of Christmas at such a time?

Son of God, Love’s pure light

No night is too dark and silent for God’s love to shine into. His light is our hope.

The prayer in the hearts of the carollers was this – that hope would shine into the Silent Night in that little room.

Radiant beams from Thy holy face

It almost seemed as if the light of heaven did brighten that crowded hallway as we stood there with one who is nearing heaven’s gate.

Every heart was encouraged to keep on in our journeys until we each arrive home…

With the dawn of redeeming grace!

A Christmas season departure breaks the hearts of those left behind. But let hope be found in the angels words on a long ago Silent Night… the words that announced Salvation’s plan unfolding, words that forever changed the course of history, and words that if we choose, will impact our own future for eternity:

“Christ the Savior is born!”

The Gift of Loneliness

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I get out of bed, look in my mirror, and firmly say, “Jackie, you’re a big girl now. Just do it.”

And I obediently go to Walmart to buy more tea and cough syrup – and comfort my weary self that at least I will get to see other humans while I’m out.

Being this sick so soon in my VS term was not in my plans. Taking this many days off work, when I came here to serve, definitely is going against my grain.

But in all things, there is purpose. I’m not just waiting to get better so I can continue my purpose here – this, right now, has got to have purpose too.

Because of the ways others have reached out to me, I have new inspiration to care for the sick – just as soon as I get better.

Yesterday a friend drove half an hour just to bring me a jar of deep tissue rub. She didn’t ask if she may come – she said she would be coming around 2:00, and that was that. There was nothing I could do other than be grateful.

Others have messaged me with advice about where to buy home remedies in this area. They helped me figure out which walk-in clinic to go to.

There are good people following Christ’s command to care for the sick, even though it’s just a routine thing that should resolve in a few days. It’s a vast understatement to simply say, I’m blessed by their caring. I’m not alone.

Driving myself to an unfamiliar city to see a doctor, and doing all the insurance paperwork that goes with it, it was tempting to feel alone.

Coming back to my empty house to continue being my own nurse, I will admit, I cried. Even though I love it here, change has it’s challenges as I expected it would. Homesickness hasn’t hit me often, and not since the first few weeks of getting settled.

But getting sick and having to navigate the medical system here made it come back in full force yesterday. The pleasant quietness of the first few days in my house was quickly feeling more like oppressive loneliness.

(And then the why’s start whispering… why, why, is God not making me better so I can go back to work?)

I don’t know entirely why, but it has given me more time (between naps) for my book study.

I was inspired to think about ways this time off work can be a gift.

It takes strong discipline of the mind to get off the track of feeling sorry for ourselves, and looking for the purpose God has in every challenge.

Being sick isn’t new to me, I’ve experienced that before. It’s the loneliness while being sick, that is brand new. I’ve been blessed, until now, to live at home where Mom just did fuss over me when I was sick – even though I could have cared for myself.

So, the loneliness is the part that I’m wrestling with. And that’s what I chose to ponder last evening during my devotional time.

“God, if You’re allowing this to go on for days, I know it has purpose – help me to see beauty in it.”

Some of you probably wouldn’t need to write yourselves a sermon to find joy in challenges – I guess I process by writing, so that’s what I did.

When I can see truth spelled out in words, it sinks deep into my heart.

Here are the words that were a soothing answer to my searching last night.

Loneliness is a gift.

It is an opportunity to run to Jesus because there is no one else present.

It is an avenue to a more intimate dependence on Jesus, free of distractions.

Loneliness is an open door to more of God.

Through greater dependence on Him, I am shown His vast ability to provide in a fuller way.

When I accept the loneliness as a gift and embrace the opportunities in it, God shows me how He provides. Sometimes in material ways, sometimes through people, often in unexpected ways…

He provides, and it is amazing.

Dear Jesus, let me not seek an escape from loneliness, but rather, seek You in it – because I am never truly alone. Amen.

Adult Life

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“I guess I’m an adult now.”

This thought pops into my head so often lately.

It’s not a shocking, new, awareness.

I passed my 18th birthday several years ago and have become used to being an adult.

But since moving out of my parents home, adult life is taking on some new dimensions.

When I come home from a day of work, and the first thing I do is go find my laundry hamper to collect all the dirty laundry… and I don’t even consider the couch because I can’t enjoy relaxing anyway until my laundry and dishes are done… I am an adult.

(When I hear myself telling someone I enjoy doing all my laundry on a Monday evening while supper cooks, because it’s so relaxing, I wonder if I’m getting old!)

Oh, I’m learning some seriously practical things.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I got super excited when I opened a bag of supplies the VS board purchased for my kitchen: a dish drying rack, sink mats, a whisk, a small roast pan, and a bottle brush.

It was like Christmas. What? New things are fun. Even when they’re practical.

My new favourite meal reminds me every time I sit down to eat it – I am an adult.

This new top menu choice of mine is called, “leftovers from the freezer.” It’s quick, it’s easy, and creates no prep dishes besides the one you microwave it in – and when you’re cooking for one, that’s the same dish it’s eaten out of.

Today I experienced another angle of adult life – going shopping for home remedies to treat a cold, while off work because I was sick. By the time I came home with a good supply of lemon juice, honey, cough syrup, and ACV, I was wondering why I didn’t stock up on those things before getting sick… probably because I’m not always very good at this adulting business. 😉

Last evening, I hosted guests at my house. 6 ladies came in my door for an evening of chatting and tea, while their husbands had a VS board meeting next door.

5 of them are old enough to be my mom – the 6th one brought all her children along. (The former teacher in me was SO delighted to see small people in my house!)

I enjoyed my evening immensely, but couldn’t help thinking after they left – I guess I am an adult?

Teenage me would never have invited that many middle aged strangers over and called it a good time. But I guess it must come with adult life to put aside my fear of people, and go out on a limb to form connections.

It was a little out of my comfort zone, but I really wanted to meet the ladies whose husbands created the mission program I’m working for. I truly am glad they accepted my invitation.

This evening was an adult lady’s luxury – I had time to fold my laundry and wrap some Christmas presents. I even cooked supper instead of just having leftovers from the freezer.

Technically I’ve been doing work all evening? But household odd jobs bring a sense of accomplishment that make them fun. (Even if the fun is simply crossing it off the list and knowing with relief, it’s done!)

I don’t know how it happened, but I’m turning into my Mom. I do things more like her than ever, and I enjoy it.

She taught me well and I’m grateful.

Now, I should exercise one more thing she always told me, and that is, going to bed early when you’re sick will help you get better faster.

I didn’t always do well with the “early to bed” ritual when I lived at home.

Somehow, living in a house where no one tells me to go to bed, makes me listen more to the voices echoing good advice from the past.

And so, like a truly old and practical adult, I’ll be going to bed now.

More wisdom and sense will hopefully appear in another post, when I’m more awake and shake the cobwebs out of my head 🙂

Because of Love

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Someone asked me a question a few days ago that’s still circling in my mind.

Sharing a traditional American Thanksgiving meal, the table conversation drifted to the mission program I recently joined.

“So – why this mission? Why did you leave everything and move here to this specific mission?”

I honestly didn’t have an answer on the tip of my tongue. Nothing concise and intelligent sounding, anyway.

Why did I come, anyway?

Why, when it tore my heart to pieces to leave my little nephews and nieces behind?

Why, when going to church every Sunday morning reminded me for weeks that my home congregation is far away?

Why, when I had so many close friends around me, did I move here where I have to build new relationships?

I didn’t say any of that, I simply told the story of how God aligned people and events to guide my steps here.

The shortest answer to the question really is, “God clearly called me here. I knew its where I’m meant to be for this season of life.”

But it’s so much more.

Maybe it’s because a resident prayed every day for over a year that I would get my visa approval, so that I could volunteer here.

Maybe it’s because of a young lady who just moved in and needs someone to teach her how to pray. She wants to tell Jesus her thoughts but isn’t sure how. Maybe it’s the joy of demonstrating to her that she can talk to Him like a friend in the room – and seeing her eyes light up as she discovers a new way to communicate with God.

It might be because of the opportunity to walk with someone to their table in the dining room, so that they don’t have to go alone.

Or the laughter around the piano when Christmas carols go waaaay off key – but no one judges anyone for that, because every voice in our choir is making a joyful noise to the Lord.

Maybe I came here to listen to hearts who are missing parents who have passed away. I know my heart is full with emotion when I hear, “Thanks for taking time to talk today, Jackie. It made me feel better.”

I know I came here for the bedtime prayers. To see tears of happiness on weathered cheeks when they hear me thanking God for creating them to be who they are.

I came here to say I love you. To say it often, because they don’t hear it enough. Sometimes I hear a soft whisper, “I love you, too.”

Other times I learn new things about myself. For example, I am useless, fat, stupid – and a chatterbox. I don’t mind. I rather enjoy seeing what they’ll come up with to call me next 😉 and, we all need to vent somewhere. I’m one of the only faces some of these people see in a day – of course they’ll vent the frustrations of life on me. Maybe I came here to be their listening ear, too.

When I think about why I came here, and all the things that fill my heart to overflowing every day, I know why I’m here.

I came because of love.

Because Jesus loves me.

Because I love Him.

And His love is the kind that fills a heart until it overflows.

If we love Him, we will love others – wherever He calls us to love, we will go.

And that’s why I’m here.

That’s why I could leave my family, my church, my friends, my home.

That’s why my heart could hurt, without breaking.

Because it wasn’t rooted in any of the things I left. It’s rooted only in love – in Jesus – and so it can survive any transplanting.

I can go where He leads.

I can be stretched painfully through a transition season and still be filled with His love.

Why did I choose this particular mission?

Because these precious people – these lonely, forgotten souls – are so thirsty for love.

It’s the best place to pour my overflowing heart.

How Beautiful

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This post is slightly overdue, but my heart and mind needed a few days to let the emotions settle before I could process them in words.

A bridesmaid bouquet adorns my kitchen table, not quite as fresh as yesterday, but still beautiful. I pulled it out of the vase tonight, just to smell the roses, to play with the ribbons, and smile again at the memories of when it was fresh and new on Saturday morning…

Just before the sun came up, I drove to a familiar home once again. I had the honor of driving my bestie to the photo location for her wedding, witnessing their first look, then standing with the wedding party for photos.

The drive there was filled with heartfelt conversations, giving her the wedding gift I had carefully chosen, and a playlist of her favourite songs I had created with her suggestions.

Close friendships are beautiful.

We’ve shared momentous occasions that we had in common, and some we have not, but we’re always there for each other.

There were seasons it came easily to relate to each other, but in the last year, our paths have been vastly different as our lives took changing directions.

Yet we’re closer than ever, and it was so good to celebrate her marriage with her.

She had a gift for me, too, that morning.

There was one song in her playlist I hadn’t heard before, and when it came on, she told me to listen, because it’s what she wants her bridesmaids to know.

So her sister and I, the bridesmaids, listened while she sang along.

“Like a treasure in the deep, your heart is a diamond

And your Hero will do what it takes to find it so He can hold it tenderly.

And become your Defender

He even laid down His life just to make your heart His.”

Could there be anything more beautiful in friendship, than a bride reminding her bridesmaids of their worth and identity on her wedding day?

Every little girl dreams of her wedding, but not every girl gets married. So when girls grow up, it’s so important that they know Who they truly belong to.

Regardless of where we are today or what our future brings, we all are fully known, fully loved, fully chosen – and precious to our Creator.

Weddings often focus on romance, but witnessing Christian marriage is so much more than that.

When two godly people form a Kingdom union, every witness is reminded of the relationship between Christ and the Church.

The way his love creates a secure place for her heart to call home..

The way her devotion and adoration let him know she is committed to him forever…

The way he accepts her, just as she is, and always protects her…

The way she puts effort into presenting herself perfect, because she wants him to have the very best she can be… (and truly, my besties husband married a gem. Just saying.😉)

All these things should point every one of us to a greater Love story.

The story of a Creator pursuing the hearts of His unfaithful, flawed, rebellious creation, literally going to His own death just to win us back.

A Creator Who so desperately didn’t want to spend eternity without us that He entered our world so that we could share His.

Can I complete my end of the story? Am I doing my best to be perfect, so that I don’t cause any blemishes to be seen in His Bride, the church?

Does my level of adoration for my King and devotion to Him convince others that I’m committed forever?

Someday, my name will be called to another wedding feast, and every one of us who has accepted His redeeming love offer will have a seat at the bridal table.

His protection of my heart as I surrender it to Him is a security greater than anyone in earth can offer me – and when I see His face, I will know without a doubt I am finally home.

On that day we’ll all rise as one, and everyone will focus together on the beauty of our King.

The celebration then will be so much grander than anything here…

The security of coming home to Eternal Love will be beyond anything any bride has ever known…

The adoration we feel for Jesus will be greater than ever when our earthly eyes are finally opened to see the magnitude of His love…

And it will be beautiful.

So very beautiful.

How beautiful that every one of us has this in common.

And until then, we are all just walking each other home.

Cozy & Content

Published on by Jackie1 Comment

My fuzzy blanket wrapped around me, I’m relaxing after another busy day.

The sun has set (a few hours ago) in a fiery blaze that framed the hills in the distance.

Today was good.

I stepped into the little white church this morning, and it felt good. Almost… normal. I still miss my home church people, but I’m getting to know this congregation. They are a gift from God, all of them have given me such a warm welcome since I moved here.

I sat beside a little boy who decided to be friends, and put a fishie sticker in my Bible. He’s about the same age as my nephew that I miss so much… and my auntie heart was delighted to have that bit of interaction with a child again.

I came home from church and warmed up leftovers for lunch. (The bacon in the casserole was a gift from friends who visited me recently. I think the world would be full of happier people if we would all gift each other with bacon occasionally.)

I took a nap in my comfy bed, then went upstairs to spend the rest of the day with my people.

I blow dry hair, go for walks, serve meals, give hugs, sing Christmas carols, trim fingernails, search for missing hearing aids, change bedding, give hugs, draw pictures to color, retrieve abandoned walkers, listen to sad hearts, put clean laundry away, give hugs, brush teeth, lay out fuzzy pajamas, tuck the sheets just so…

I give one more hug, and say “Goodnight, I love you, see you tomorrow!”

The Christmas carols today. That was so fun. We were having a great time, some of us singing the lyrics on the page, others singing the best part of the song over again just for good measure.

Sunlight streamed in on our impromptu choir, and grey heads and wrinkled faces were shining golden as we all praised Jesus together.

Heaven comes a little closer in moments like those.

Or when someone says, “One of these days I’m not gonna need this wheelchair anymore! I’ll be walking in heaven!” I reply, “Not only will you walk – you’ll be flying!”

She asks who I think will run faster, me or her. I said, maybe I can race you!

She laughs and says, “Let’s do that someday. But first I gotta go see Jesus. After that, we can race!”

Another gentleman, who is a wealth of sage advice, has told me that I’m stuck here forever. “You can try to leave,” he warns, “but I’ll always pray you come back again! And God hears me!”

These dear people.

I like being here, too.

This life really is beautiful.