Not perfecting the words: The Word perfecting me

memory-verse-pages

I decided last night I would skip my workout this morning. I would be too rushed to do it well.   

But when I woke up early, I decided, “Well, I do have time for just a little.”  The minimum.

Because a little is better than none.

Sometimes a little turns into more. Sometimes it stays just a little. Either way, even a little can be good.

I apply the same principle to Bible memory work. My full routine includes reviewing one page of older individual verses, reciting one chapter previously learned, and adding two verses of a new chapter. But sometimes I either lack time for all of that, or honestly, I just don’t want to do it all.

So I do just a little instead. The minimum.

Sometimes little grows into big. Sometimes not. But a little is still better than none. And even a little can be good.

The memory work might turn into simply reading the verses instead. No testing of memory at all. Or I may review only a few, lingering on one or two, letting those soak.

That’s okay.

Just as the goal of my physical workout isn’t to check off a list—it’s to stay healthy—so the goal of memory work isn’t to check off a list either — it’s to stay spiritually healthy.

Transformed.

It’s not about me perfecting the words.
It’s about the Word perfecting me.

So I keep plugging away at my memory verses and chapters, a little at a time. Progress is sometimes hard to measure, and success, harder still.

But through at least a little, the door remains open for God to do a lot.

My physical workout this morning ended up fine. My memory work today? I haven’t begun yet. I don’t really have time and I don’t really feel like it.

But I think I’ll do at least a little . . .

* * *

I apply this principle to housework, too. [FlyLady, anyone?]

What do you convince yourself to do “just a little” versus none at all?

More on scripture memory

originally published here


Hey you, overweight runner

running-shoes

Hey, you. On the side of the road. Feeling all fat and bloated. But trying to run anyway, even though you think you look awkward.

You’re my hero today.

I have no idea who you are. But seeing you just now as I drive by all comfy and clean, I have the urge to park my car, stand in the grass, and give you high fives.

I’m not sure why . . . .

Maybe because I see the sweat slinging off you and that pumps me up.
Maybe because I remember how hard it is to make my feet go when they want to stop.
Maybe because I’ve been encouraged by sideliners before and know the difference they can make.

So though I’m not interrupting your run to tell you, I am thanking God for you.

Because you’re out there making a difference. Not only for yourself. But for your family. For your friends.

And even for strangers like me who applaud your 4 mph pace out of the corner of my 60 mph machine.

Because when one of us sees another of us doing a hard thing, the other of us is encouraged to do a hard thing, too.

I may not go run this afternoon, but I might cook a better meal, or make a hospital visit, or, well, write a blog post about an overweight runner being my hero.

So stranger, I say press on!

You may or may not get skinny from your running. But you will get stronger.

And God used you today to make me stronger, too. I thank him—and you—for that.

* * *

Who has inspired you to push harder lately just because they did?



I don’t regret this

It’s Wednesday morning. The silent prayers around the table have ended. Now the group of ladies meeting each week are asked to recite the Lord’s Prayer together.

There’d be no shame in not knowing it.
But I’m glad I do.

Another day, another group. This time around a gravesite. The pastor requests those gathered around to say Psalm 23, “The Lord is my shepherd . . . .”

We do.
I’m comforted in the recitation.  

There are certain things I have regretted learning through the years. Like lyrics memorized from some of Prince’s songs. Or Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds watched one too many times. Or hours wasted reading books with no
intrinsic value whatsoever.


Read the rest here

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button classics


Pull it up by the roots

Then he said to the tree, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.”
Mark 11:14

bushes

I hate getting rid of plants. I love green things.

But sometimes some of them have to go. Even big ones.

When we bought our loropetalum shrubs twelve years ago, they were so tiny. We planted them far apart. We thought they’d stay reasonably manageable.

Loropetalum

But they didn’t. Even in our red clay dirt, they grew disproportionately. Every year Jeff would prune them back hard. But every spring they’d grow new limbs with a vengeance.

Until there was only one thing left to do.
Pull some out. By the roots.

Read more here

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Do you have trouble saying no? How do you eliminate clutter from your life?

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Safer than you think

life-in-a-bubble

I did it again last week.

And again, it hurt. Bumping my thigh on the corner of our bed frame left me this week with a beautifully-colored bruise as proof, a mark quite noticeable.

This world is not a safe place.

God is “not a tame lion.”
(Aren’t we forever grateful to Lewis for that image?)

God is not in me to shower me with the blessings of short lines at Walmart, pretty shoes that don’t hurt my feet, ne’er an experience with chill bumps or sweat drops.

I don’t live in a bubble, gifted with perfect protection here just because I believe in Jesus.

But what I get is better, even though I’m still having to grow into that realization.

What I get is better because what I get is what I need.

Read more here

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What dangers have you encountered lately?

What’s a sign you’re living the good life anyway?