If we would really hearken unto God, which means not only hearing Him, but believing what we hear, we could not fail to know that, just because He is God, He cannot do other than care for us as He cares for the apple of His eye; and that all that tender love and divine wisdom can do for our welfare, must be and will be unfailingly done. Not a single loophole for worry or fear is left to the soul that knows God.

-Hannah Whitall Smith

Sunday afternoon we started pulling all of the Christmas decor out of the schoolroom closet. The girls had been begging since Friday.

They quickly found their favorite things, and rejoiced like they were being reunited with long-lost friends.

We emptied boxes and and replaced everyday decorations with our beloved seasonal ones. Dusted shelves to make everything look shiny and clean. Returned all of our fall and Thanksgiving books back to the bookshelves and replaced them with our treasured Christmas stories.

It was fun to see how after so many years of doing things exactly the same, all my girls know quite firmly where each decoration goes. 

Dinner time came and went. Things still weren't finished, and the thrill of bringing out all of the Christmas stuff had fizzled to a strong desire just to be done.

Only I didn't feel like getting it done. But I didn't like that it was un-done. So I was stuck in an awful state of discontent with no hopeful solution in sight.

I wanted to relax. Quit for the day, and just rest. But of course that's always a hard choice for me.

With much help from my husband, I made the choice to stop for the night and leave it all to be finished the next day.

The table remained littered with dirty dishes. The dishes that had made it to the sink stayed there piled high. The unloaded closet in the schoolroom remained. No floor in sight.

The boxes stayed in random piles and the vacuum sat in the path of the front door with the cord completely unwound and draped everywhere.

I forced myself to disregard all of the practical and responsible things that extra twenty dollars was going to go towards, and instead sent my sweet husband to pick up pizza.

We threw a blanket on the living room floor and turned on our first Christmas movie of the season. Ate pizza and wings, kicked back in our pajamas, and just relaxed. All in the middle of a mess.

And it was wonderful.

Ninety-nine percent of the time I am driven by an overwhelming need to be responsible. Time, money, possessions; all must be handled in the most disciplined and purposeful ways.

But sometimes I just want to let it all go.

For one night I chose not to think about all that I should be doing, chose to ignore the budget, and chose not to analyze if our food was good for us. 

I realized that I often miss the gifts available to me because I choose my agenda over receiving a gift.

Clearly I am still learning how to rest. 

It occurs to me now that what I unintentionally chose Sunday night was to receive the gift of sabbath. A choice I need to make much more often.

*So excited to again be linking up with Tuesdays unwrapped.

Fighting Drift :::  I don't want to let moments and hours slip by without effort at connection. Without talking truly and substantively with the ones I love most.

If You Want to Be a Strong Woman :::  I wore that nightgown and thought I could conquer the world and here I sit, 32, sobered by the ways the world has seemed to undo me.

A Princess on Her Throne ::: What logical reason is there for me to stay the course of securing temporal lucrative returns when there remains a harvest that is only gained when people are willing to die daily to themselves, to lose everything for the sake of Christ?

A Kind Wife ::: I sent my husband a list of things I thought that he might like to see me do around the house…

Because somedays everyone feels covered in ick ::: His advice is usually the opposite of my instincts.

Your job is to say yes. ::: As we dare to let go of control, we'll find that joy lives in that place of release.

Even if nothing else called for thankfulness, it would always be an ample cause for it that Jesus Christ loved us, and gave Himself for us.

A farmer was once found kneeling at a soldier's grave near Nashville. Someone came to him and said: "Why do you pay so much attention to this grave? Was you son buried here?"
"No," he said. "During the war my family were all sick, I knew not how to leave them. I was drafted. One of my neighbors came over and said: 'I will go for you; I have no family.' He went off. He was wounded at Chickamauga. He was carried to the hospital, and there died. And, sir, I have come a great many miles, that I might write over his grave these words, 'He died for me.'"

This the believer can always say of his blessed Savior, and in the fact may well rejoice. "By Him therefore, let us offer the sacrifice of praise continually, that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to His name."

Dwight L. Moody