late nights . . .

My husband and baby are sleeping. I just finished cleaning the kitchen top to bottom - getting it ready for a very full day of baking tomorrow. But now it's late and I am past being tired . . . into being over tired which would mean going to bed and being frustrated with a slow falling to sleep process. I can't remember the last time that I didn't go to bed "early" with Luke. This so reminds me of my single days when I would journal late into the night. It is when my mind seems to work the clearest.

I have so many thoughts flooding my mind . . . experiences and memories that I don't want to forget. And while I doubt that anyone else in the world wants to read this; I want the option of going back and remembering.

Of Dialogues of Fenelon . . .

Nearly every morning I curl up in a chair in the living room and read something short from Fenelon before reading my Bible. It seems to quiet my mind and helps me receive the "meet" of God's Word. I came across this quote today and remembered my mom reading it to me when my Grandma was dying of cancer. It spoke to me then. And now, with completely different issues, the Lord so convicted my heart of the energy and time that I waste thinking about the future. Wanting to plan things just how I want them. But His knowledge of my needs are so all encompassing. Fenelon reads as follows:

I wish you all the benefit you are seeking in retreat; above all, that you may find rest in a simple line of conduct, without looking forward anxiously to the future. That future is in God's hands, not yours; God will rule is according to your needs. But if you seek to forecast it in your own wisdom, you will gain nothing but anxiety and anticipation of inevitable trouble. Try only to make use of each day; each day brings its own good and evil, and sometimes what seems evil becomes good if we leave it to God, and do not forestall Him in our impatience.

Of lyrics that humble me . . .

There is a CD in our car right now that has a version of Come Ye Sinners on it. Usually I skip the song because Amy Grant sings a portion of it and . . . well, I can hardly stand that. (Unless Luke just wants a little free entertainment as I nearly go out of my skin during it! *wink*) But the other day I let it go and these words caught me.

"View Him prostrate in the garden
On the ground your Maker lies
On the bloody tree behold Him
Sinners will this not suffice?

Lo! The incarnate God ascended
Pleads the merit of His blood:
Venture on Him, Venture wholly
Let no other trust intrude."

The thought of my Creator, hanging bloody and suffering on a tree. And some people still say, "God can't save me . . . because of what I have done." Of all that He has done. Can we dare to say that it is not sufficient to save even the chief of sinners? Venture on Him. Venture wholly on Him. Allison . . . don't trust one tittle on your life style, prayer life, or feelings of love toward God. My salvation is wholly dependant on Christ.

Of sovereignty over Sanctification . . .

As someone who has, for a long while, embraced the sovereignty of God in regards to election and salvation, it has only been recently that I have seen that God is sovereign over every aspect of salvation . . . even my sanctification. For I used to reason that God had saved my soul and now I must learn to love and follow Him. And so a burden was always felt and a fear of "falling away" or "backsliding." I thought that I was to keep our relationship going. I thought it was up to me.

But recently I found my heart in rebellion. Scared by pain maybe . . . or, more truthfully - calloused by bitterness. When Luke would pray at night, I allowed my mind to wander. I only read Scripture with my husband and rarely by myself. I was more bitter than I even realized at the time. Not towards God; but it certainly made that relationship seem distant. My conscience condemned me. And I seriously did not care. Not caring scared me the most. I cared about very little until I hardly knew who I had become . . . so quickly changed into who I did not recognize as being me.

God used the truth of His Word to cut open my calloused heart and soften me once again. I drug my heels as long as I could. Mainly, it was our Pastor's sermons. God so broke me with His truth. Countless stories of times where I was sitting there thinking that God must have given my pastor a private revelation of my life at the time. The message on bitterness where (much to my dismay) I cried nearly the entire sermon. The message on dwelling on truth through melodies and song. I have a vivid memory of our conservative pastor getting a little emotional as he had hymns playing and he was pointing out truths of Scripture in them and praising the Lord in front of us all. My heart started praising the Lord again.

Our culture is so full of Hollywood and Hallmark that we get this notion that spiritual struggles are won over one special revelation or event. But it's a steady diet of truth that changes lives. Then to prove His great love for me, He did something that didn't seem humanly possible. It was like I had rebelled, and I knew it. I had told God by my actions that I didn't care, and I knew it. But He kept being faithful and then did something so amazing . . . just to show His love for me. He left me feeling so completely humbled.

God did it. Not me. Now I am in a place where I love the Word of God. I can't get enough of my Savior. But He is holding on to me . . . whether I am holding on to Him, being distracted by the world, or trying to push away. He is sanctifying me.

Of Spring and all of it's memories

Spring and Autumn are my favorite seasons. I love change . . . and they are those transitional seasons.

All of the flowers really remind me of my Grandma, though. Whenever there is a nice day in the midst of a few rainy ones it reminds me of a phone conversation I had with her, right before we found out that her cancer had returned and that she would be gone soon. She had called just to see how Ezekiel was doing and mentioned that Grandpa was going out, and wanted her to go with him. "But I just can't seem to get myself up to doing anything with how I feel right now" she explained. There was an awkward pause as I tried to decide if I should just be understanding or encourage her to go. "It's hard when you don't feel well . . . but if you can get out, it's a really beautiful day" I said. She paused again and finally said, "Well, you encouraged me, so I'm going to do it. Better go get ready . . . "

None of us realized how poor she felt most of the time until towards the end. She wasn't one to complain. But I'm glad that she went with my grandpa that day . . . and I know that she is in the midst of unspeakable beauty now.


Tomorrow is going to be beyond full . . .

I must find some sleep for tonight.