I was sitting at my dining table when I was side-blinded by a very bright ray of morning sunlight, streaming through my french doors to my right. It was at that very moment that my eyes read on the page in front of me:

Hannah Whitall Smith, The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life (1942)

Oh Lord, what an exquisite, tangible vision of the sunshine You give every single day and its simple reflection of the spiritual sunshine of Your presence that I desperately need in my life! Thank You for the warmth and light of Your grace, which You pour out so lavishly in moments such as these. Help me to keep my face upturned to You, even when it feels too bright or too piercing. Do Your Divine cultivating work in me — in Your own way and by Your own means. Amen.

I first had a cookie like this one at a little bakery at Pike Place in Seattle. (Sad, I can’t for the life of me find the name of the bakery.) I loved it so much — what’s not to like about a cookie for breakfast?! — that when I got home, I concocted the best copycat I could muster. Now I always keep some of these cookies in the freezer for those mornings when we must be out the door quickly; they’re well-loved by both me and J. They have some good-for-you components, but they’re still definitely a cookie!

Flatten balls of dough at least 1″ apart on cookie sheet. Bake at 375 F for 10-12 minutes. After 5 minutes, transfer to wire rack. Let cool completely. Freeze in an airtight container for up to 3 months. Enjoy!

{A funny little side note: My friend Kari has been asking me for weeks for this breakfast cookie recipe, so I told her I’d just post it here. She is an amazingly talented professional photographer who studied Corporate Industrial & Portraiture at the Art Institute of Seattle. Let’s just say that she is especially gifted at food photography…I had to laugh at that as I took these b-e-a-utiful photos! Hahaha.}

And so I prayed,

“Oh Lord, make in my heart the very heart of a child. Help me to trust You – that Your resources are enough (I don’t need to bring my wallet or time management skills when I’m with You), that Your plans for my life are good and are being realized according to Your Sovereign might (I don’t have to worry or seek or strive or freak out when things go differently than I’d expected), and that You love me (not what I do or how I act or how much I have figured out about life) and that that is all that really matters. Like a child. Like my own kids trust me. Amen.”

I love running because of how it uplifts and humbles you all at once.

It uplifts you whenever you finish anything - even if it was just an easy run. It humbles you when you can’t even finish an easy run due to injury or fatigue or stomach troubles. (If the Olympic marathoners have to bow out of the race sometimes – after they’ve lived, breathed, and trained Olympic marathon for the past four years, that means everyone has bad days!)

It uplifts you as you charge with ease up a huge hill. It humbles you when more people see you coasting back down that huge hill and none of them know you just kicked its butt.

It uplifts you whenever you run faster or further than you had ever run before. It humbles you when babies or job stress or travel or family emergency or getting older throws a wrench in your training and you can’t run as fast or as far as you used to run.

It uplifts you when you beat a thinner or more experienced-looking runner in a race or even just once around the track. It humbles you when you get beat by a chubbier or less experienced-looking runner in the last mile of the half-marathon.

It uplifts you when you nod to fellow runners, knowing that they, too know the unspoken discipline it takes to be a runner. It humbles you when you wave whole-heartedly at a fellow runner and they don’t even acknowledge your existence.

Isn’t that great!?

What floats first to your mind??

I told the women on retreat that I’d recap some of my talk here on my blog. So here goes.

Our banner premise for the day went something like this:

God made each of us uniquely to know & love Him and to reach the world with His love as only we uniquely can. Therefore, with regard to our identity, God longs for us to partner with Him in the lifelong process of discovering and becoming all that He created us to be. (It is not something we can force on our own strength and insight, nor is it usually something He is willing to do entirely on His own – He’s like a good parent in that way.) This process involves God’s doing two mighty works in us: 1. rooting out the broken identities we’ve taken on 2. healing our broken identities and restoring or replacing them with true and good identities

Some of the gals who were at the retreat

The first question we tackled was:

What is identity?

We agreed that on the surface we think of our core identities as being personal answers to questions like:

• Who are you?

• What is your life about?

• What is important to you?

But I suggested that our core identities are even deeper than that! And so I invited them to go deeper with me. I have had the most success finding my truest core identities (both broken and healed) when I’ve asked myself questions like:

• What, if I lost it, would send me into an emotional, psychological, spiritual tailspin?

• What do I sometimes obsess about? What keeps me up at night?

• What issues often foil my relationships?

• On what (besides basic needs — water, food, housing, Target basic tees) do I spend the majority of my money?

• What things make me angriest fastest?

• What things did/does my family say about me that have stuck with me through the years?

• What are my greatest strengths? How have those led to my most broken core identities?

These questions formed the basis for our partnership with God on which the rest of my talks built. Again, for those of you who were at the retreat: thank you for being so humble, gracious, and willing to listen to me share just a little bit of what God has been and is still doing deep down in my heart. I continue to pray for us – that we will partner with Him as He does His mighty work!

Everyone gets one day older every day. No one is exempt from the passage of time along with its woes and graces.

It fascinates me that time remains still the one unopened mystery of the universe whose contents and physical workings only God knows. Our sci-fi writers have tackled it masterfully for centuries, but our scientists are still scratching their heads.

I take great comfort in all of this as I welcome a new decade this week.

Count your blessings, name them one by one.

Count your blessings, see what God has done.

Count your blessings, name them one by one.

Count your blessings, see what God has done.

A month ago or so I sensed God prompting me to start stopping between each verse to ask each person in the room to actually share one of their blessings. (It may sound dumb or weird, but this kind of forced sharing is really hard and awkward-feeling for me sometimes – even with my husband and 2boys! But, it has been SO worth it.) 2boys’ answers range from “Daddy” to “church” to “Aunt Holl” to “my blanket.” Even 19-month-old Stone gives his one syllable replies (usually “Pa!” [Grandpa] with a big smile).

Howard never lets me or my husband forget to share our own blessings. It’s been so memorable and spiritually enriching. And, it’s been really good for my heart: to practice regularly counting my blessings rather than counting my wishes.

Now 2boys request it pretty much every night.

I have to admit that it offended me some – I sort of like it when people think I’m smart and progressive. But, actually, it was good for me to hear the criticism. It reminded me that, deep down in our guts, these roles are very much a choice after long and forward-thinking and self-sacrificing deliberations. We’ve asked over and over again, “What is best for our whole family (spiritually, physically, emotionally, etc.)?” And our progressive open-mindedness to all of the options has led us to choose these “traditional” family roles.

When it comes down to it, I am taking on a “traditional” role in our home as a choice. It is not out of ignorance or unawareness. It is not out of blind religious obligation. I’ve thought it out and read a LOT and decided that it’s best for us, for lots of reasons. And, by the way, this choice has not been the easiest one; it has required a lot from our whole family: financial responsibility and discipline, a career “pause” for me, trusting God rather than ourselves to provide and bless and secure (things we can’t force for ourselves anyway, in all honesty), to name a few.

I’m not saying that the cut-and-dried “traditional” family roles are perfect for everyone. I’m just afraid that most people these days, in considering themselves so progressive and open-minded never even consider the “traditional” roles as an option. They get stuck in the very current cultural values (individualism, career, dual-income, personal success) which were very different a decade ago and will again be different a decade hence. And, I’m sorry, friends, but I would call that preposterously narrow-minded.