{Remember that time when . . .}

Every now and then, something will happen that reminds me that God is concerned with the details of my life. He is concerned with the details because He has a plan. And I know that The Lord will work out His plans for my life. . . (Psalm 138:8) I love that. You, too?

Someone asked me not too long ago if I felt called to lead worship. At first, the question caught me off guard and it took me a moment to form words. On the inside, I wanted to jump up and down and scream, 'Yes!! Of course!!' But I was able to exercise a bit of self-restraint and answer the question with a simple "Yes!".

[Sidebar: I just dumped my iPad over onto my wireless keyboard. Of course, it managed to "post" my draft...oops! And, I'm sorry if you received a link to a half-baked, unfinished post!]

I walked away from that conversation feeling encouraged because it seemed someone else recognized that God had a specific calling and plan for my life that involved worship. God always offers encouragement at just the right moment. I needed it that day.

So, I started thinking.  I'm writing this to serve as a memorial of one time in particular that God blew me away. A time when He reminded me that He was aware of and concerned with the details. A time when He reminded me (again) that He is working and has always been working.

He gave me a piano. A brand new (off the showroom floor), beautiful piano. Delivered, free of charge. I had a beautiful baby grand piano, but I was going to have to sell it. The baby grand was purchased used a few years earlier. I rarely played the piano during that season of life, but found comfort in knowing it was there. (Weird, right?) I was going through the painful process of divorce, downsizing from a giant house to a tiny house. Space was limited; the baby grand piano simply would not fit. I tried to figure out a way that I could use it as the kitchen table, but that just seemed like a bad idea. Besides, the kitchen was too small! I was sad.

I called and left a message with the piano dealer asking if they would be willing to broker a deal on my behalf or even take the piano back. When they called me back, I hesitated to answer. I simply did not want to talk about it in that moment. I answered anyway.

"Mrs. Lewis, we would be glad to help you sell the baby grand; but, first let me ask, would you be interested in a trade?"

I had no idea that was an option. Of course I was interested in a trade. I assumed I would get a much less expensive, much smaller piano. We talked a few minutes and arranged for pick-up of the old piano at my old address and delivery of the new piano to my new address. I had no idea what I was getting. The new piano showed up, and I thought there must be a mistake.

It was a brand new, full-size, professional grade, upright piano. Shiny. Beautiful. Perfect. Unbelievable! What's the big deal, you may be wondering. This new piano was far more valuable when compared than the original value of the piano I traded in. So, if I had walked into the showroom to buy either piano (brand new) the baby grand would have been less expensive (at full cost). Am I making sense? It would be like taking a 10 year old car to the dealer and making an even trade for a brand new 2015 model, When does that happen!?

After the delivery guys left, I sat down at my beautiful, new piano - eyes full of tears, fingers fumbling across the shiny new keys - and was overwhelmed with gratitude. Even though I was too shy to play with people watching, i played for Him.

It would be years before I stepped onto a platform to play while people sat and listened. (Never mind playing and singing or playing and leading worship.) But He saw that moment well in advance. In His perfect faithfulness, He worked out the details like only He could. So, I played (and sang) at my mamaw's funeral, in honor of her - but still, playing for Him.

Here's the thing: Not only did He see that moment, He has seen every moment since. And, He's working out His plans for my life.

I am so thankful that I belong to Him.

Lord, You are my God; I will exalt You and praise Your name, for in perfect faithfulness You have done wonderful things, things planned long ago." Isaiah 25:1

{To My Little (not-so-little anymore) Brother}

Yesterday was little brother's birthday. Sometimes I forget that we are grown-ups and not little kids running around in the yard or playing basketball in the church parking lot. Time flies.

I am sure I would have never earned the "Big Sister of the Year" award. I was most likely being bossy or sassy. On a good day, I was probably making you play some kind of game that you didn't really want to play or curling your hair and dressing you up like a life-sized barbie doll. And, I laughed when dad plugged up the vacuum and gave you a bad haircut with the flowbe. (You have to admit, it was funny!) It's a wonder you survived. You were a good little brother. And I know you thought I was cool - even if you won't admit it in a million years. You still think I'm cool, right?

I joke about how I taught you everything you know and how you got all your coolness and wit from growing up with me. The truth is - I think you really are awesome.

You. Are. Awesome.

I am so glad that God picked me to your big sister. I'm so glad that we grew up to be friends. Sometimes, I wish you lived right around the corner so we could take our fabulous spouses and go on a double date. Or, we could get together and make music, just for fun. I wish my kids could spend more time with you and Auntie T. They would be crazy about you. Even more than they already are. But, it's ok. Why? Because God is using you right where you are to do great things.

I love watching you do and be what God has intended for you to do and be. I admire your courage and your patient endurance. I admire your obedience. I love watching you lead worship. Above all, I admire your love for Jesus. You are a beautiful picture of God's grace - a masterpiece, a treasure.

We are celebrating you from across the miles. We are thankful for you. We love you. Happy birthday!

{Don't Forget to Remember}

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite times of celebration. Let’s see - there is turkey, dressing, dumplins, and pumpkin pie. After we feast, we usually spend a bit of time flipping through the newspaper ads, pen in hand, marking our favorite things. Christmas is just around the corner, after all. We play games. We take naps. And, we remember. I remember Tyler’s first Thanksgiving. He was 7 months old and the life of the party. He most likely had his hands in everyone’s plate getting his first taste of the delicious goodness that is Thanksgiving dinner. I remember the laughter. Lots of laughter.

I remember where I was standing when I received a phone call from the hospital just a few days later. I remember the heaviness in the room when I arrived there. It was suffocating. I remember being told, “He didn’t make it.” It was SIDS.

He. Didn’t. Make. It. The reality of that moment hit me in a way I cannot begin to explain.

I remember walking back to a different room. My eyes landed on my lifeless baby boy and pain pierced me to the very core. It would become a familiar pain. I wept while I begged God to “fix it.”

I remember walking away from that hospital without my baby. I can tell you it was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

I remember losing a second child 15 months later. I remember my marriage falling apart. I remember being angry, confused, and feeling completely abandoned by God. The pain was relentless and I crumbled.

I also remember the moment I gave up and laid all the brokenness and pain at the feet of Jesus. I remember the moment He turned my mourning (YEARS of mourning) into joy.

And, I am so thankful.

I belong to a sovereign, perfect, faithful God. I am completely in awe of Him. He heals. He redeems. He restores. There is not one moment of my life when He has taken His eye off of me. (Or you!) He sees us. He loves us. Even in our darkest, most desperate moments. I know that now.

I know it.

So, don’t forget to remember. Remember who He is and what He has done. Remember the cross. Remember His lavish love and perfect grace. And in everything, give thanks...That can be a hard one to take in and live out until we remember Christ. Then suddenly even our most difficult moments pale in comparison to the pain and suffering He endured. For the glory of the Father and for us. 

{Honor to Whom Honor is Due}

This is my Dad.

Today is his 60th birthday.  Woo-Hoo! Hooray! So, I am writing this one for him - to honor him and to remind him that he is loved beyond measure.

Dear Dad, you are one of my heroes. I am thankful that God picked me to be your daughter. I admire your strength and courage. I admire your perseverance. You have shown me what it means to love and care for others above yourself. Even those who may have hurt you or mistreated you. You have shown me how to be bold and courageous. I'm not speaking of a boldness that is brazen and arrogant or a courage that is proud. It's a boldness and a courage that come from a place of humility. I've watched you make mistakes and get back up. I've watched you say "I'm sorry" or "I was wrong" or "I need help." You taught me that it is ok to be imperfect and that God's grace is greater than all my weakness.

Thank you for raising me to understand who Jesus is and what He came to do. Thank you for loving Him and putting Him first in your life and teaching us to do the same. Thank you for teaching me the importance of worship and the power of prayer. I used to creep over to the church office to steal your ink pens and hear you praying, you know. Sometimes, I would hang back and listen, realizing that I had stumbled upon a holy moment. Sometimes I would run off determined to come back and steal an ink pen later. You had the best ink pens!

Thank you for teaching me how to laugh. Now, little brother and I are funnier than you. Thanks for teaching me how to shoot a basketball, grab a rebound, and pass a volleyball. Thank you for telling me to sing. To work hard. To write.  To love BIG.

Thank you for believing in me. For praying for me. For loving me unconditionally. For being my biggest fan. For having tough conversations with me. For speaking truth and wisdom into my life. And now, you do all those things for my husband and my children. We are blessed beyond measure to have you near.

We love you. We honor you. We celebrate you. We are so very grateful for all that you are. You are one cool-smooth-God-fearing dude. And we are all the better for it!

Happy 60th birthday, Dad.