I sat down to journal my cares and stresses away this morning. I was looking forward to a good old fashioned pity party. I was hoping to arrouse God’s compassion toward me and to hear Him say “there, there… you don’t deserve all this difficulty. I’m going to wave my magic wand and fix this all up for you”. I was in search of clarity and some semblance of peace and possibly even some small scale healing of some sort, when this thought hit me square in the middle of my victim mentality. I am not a victim. I am not at the mercy of my circumstances. I’m not at the mercy of my failures either. God still has a plan for me and it’s not to harm me, it’s to prosper me. To give me a future and a hope.

I started out drafting Psalm 151 and realized this prayer would be much more like Lamentations 6. I set out to unload my heartbroken story of woe to God and the more pages I filled the more I was aware of a thought that was gaining momentum and volume. I was reminded that I had a free will. This free will was a gift that I could use however I chose to. I could use it to destroy myself or I could use it to invite God into the middle of my mess.

Why would I use this gift to undermine myself? Why would I use it to discourage myself? Why would I use it to feel sorry for myself? Would these mindsets solve or change any of my problems into victories? A resounding no. Did I enjoy wasting my time in time consuming thoughts that would bury me alive? Another resounding no!

I have a choice. I get to choose how I respond to every circumstance that crosses my path. I get to choose my thoughts about these circumstances. Thus, I get to choose what I am going to do about it. I love our pastor’s closing words at the end of every sermon, What is God speaking to you about? And what are you going to do about it? Such empowering, liberating, thought provoking words.

I don’t ‘have’ to choose, I ‘get’ to choose. Even though my theology and personal philosophy is that I want God in control of my life, there is still a certain degree of control I have over myself. Self-control is one of the fruits of the Spirit. Self-control by its very definition suggests that I control myself. I control my thoughts which in turn control my responses and actions. My choice.

What will I choose this day? I am not at the mercy of my circumstances. Or my feelings, for that matter. I can override destructive feelings and thoughts by developing self control. I can do all things through Christ that strengthens me. Sit here in the middle of my mess and feel sorry for myself? Wasting valuable days and not getting anywhere? OR make the choice to remember who I am in Christ and realize my hopes and dreams empowered by God’s wisdom and peace? No brainer.

This weekend marks the 8th anniversary of moving into our brand spanking new house. With its brand new sleuter and black and white checkerboard ceramic tiles. Dark wood cupboards and maple floors. Trimmed with black lacquer woodwork and sparkling chrome hardware, it was a glorious sight to behold. A flick of the switch fireplace, an attached garage, a real pantry, and an ensuite bathroom in the master bedroom complete the picture. These were all luxuries we had not previously enjoyed living in older, used homes. Receiving the keys to our very own new home (ok, the bank still owns a good portion of it) was a euphoric moment in time.

I can’t believe, in the blink of an eye, eight years have passed since that unforgettable move. I still consider this to be a new home even though we have already had to begin fixing or replacing things. I was so grateful for the opportunity to choose the colours and design of our new house instead of having a fixer upper on our hands. Not that that wouldn’t have had its charms as Chip and Joanna Gaines can testify to. But so refreshing to have everything the way I wanted it the day we moved in. Sure, I can think of a lot of things I would have changed or that would have worked better but one doesn’t know these things until they lived in a place for a bit and have experienced life there. This house is mostly a blessing and a joy.

At the time, I thought I was moving into a palace and was very excited and grateful. I have to say, that even now, when I wake up in our cavernous master bedroom with attached ensuite bathroom, I get the feeling I’m staying at the Four Seasons and am thinking of calling for room service (I’ll be waiting a long time).  And then there is my walkin closet, which my mother refers to as the ‘inner sanctum’. Sometimes it is exactly that for me and not just anybody gets invited into its glory. Yes I have to share it with Mike but I’ve allowed him only a tiny portion of this prime real estate. Important decisions are made within its walls. Who am I going to imitate today? Anna Wintour? Nina Garcia? Olivia Palermo? Iris Apfel? (Google them).

I’ve organized and purged the pantry many times in the past 8 years, turning it into a Whole 30 or Daniel plan friendly food storage space using Martha Stewart organizing tips. Sometimes I just stand in there, with the light on, marvelling at this grand use of space complete with transom window door. Such a clever way to hide unsightly, but necessary boxes, bags, cans and other delectable treasures.

And what a pleasure it is to settle myself in the drivers seat of my car on a blustery rainy day with out going outside and ruining my hair, which turns into a frizzy mess if it makes contact with any moisture. And… this fireplace. I can’t even imagine living without it now. AlI have to do is click the switch and I have real fire illuminating the main floor living space while flickers of light dance in the shadows on the walls as I sit in my comfy favorite chair and write this blog. This fireplace truly warms up the whole house eventually. Such a sweet welcome after struggling with the elements to get groceries or shovel the sidewalk. Very often we turn it on in the summer as well just for its calming effect.

At this point you may be thinking I’m describing some magnificent mansion or… you may be thinking ‘so what?’, sounds like every other house in town. I have to admit, going by my emotional attachment to this wood and mortar structure, you’d wonder if I was describing the Palace of Versailles. But no. Just a humble dwelling place that has become our home over the past 8 years. Home to heated and thought provoking discussions. A place where nourishment and nurturing are provided. A comforting place to come to after a long work day. A familiar coziness after a vacation. A shelter from the storms of life and sometimes the setting for them. A haven of safety and love. A refuge and a respite. Four walls filled with laughter and sometimes tears. The setting for glorious celebrations and extended hospitality. The blessing of a home is to be shared and currently I share mine with with the three adults closest to my heart. Does it get any better than this?

 

 

‘For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son that whosoever believed in Him should not perish but have everlasting life’.  John 3:16

Billy Graham’s son, Franklin, said at his fathers funeral, that Billy used that verse in every single one of his sermons. That was the foundation and inspiration of Billy Grahams ministry.

I watched a live stream of the funeral of this mighty man of God several times yesterday. And I actually witnessed President Trump smile and laugh several times during the service. He comes across as quite approachable and unscary when he smiles at a funeral endued with the power of the Holy Spirit. Those 2300 invited dignitaries and guests were standing on holy ground in Charlotte, North Carolina yesterday afternoon (and enjoying much better weather than we were, I might add).

The first 30 minutes of beautiful piano music, played by a very talented older gentleman, set the tone for the afternoon. He played a long medley of all the most loved hymns I’ve ever had the joy of singing and humming. I was actually surprised he had the stamina to play that long. He never missed a beat. (Pun intended). I’m not sure if that was planned or if it was just taking the dignitaries and family that long to arrive and compose themselves. I imagined him having a long list of hymns set on the piano with instructions to just keep playing until everyone that was supposed to be there had arrived. It was telling to watch the expressions and whispering of the guests while cameras scanned the crowd during this interlude. I actually spotted someone I knew from Calgary at the service as the television cameras scanned the crowd. I was jealous.

Billy’s family spoke so well. They all clearly have the gift and love of the Lord. They spoke well by oratory standards but also spoke well in regards to content. I was mesmerized. I was riveted to the screen of my iPad. I sensed in my spirit this was a significant milestone in God’s plan for the planet. Billy Graham was most definitely a modern day prophet or disciple. If the Bible writings continued into our era Billy Graham would have been a lead character in them. Future generations would read about Billy the way we read about Moses or Daniel or Paul. I’m sure of it.

I loved how Billy’s sister, Jean, quipped about having the home they grew up in right there in front of them during the funeral. She also mentioned how much he was loved by everyone in attendance but how she had loved him the longest as his last surviving sibling. I was inspired by the poem that Gigi, his eldest daughter (I mean the one he loved the longest) read, written by her mother at 13 in regards to finding a man like Billy. Anne’s prophetic reference to Moses and Joshua was spine tingling. Likening her dad to Moses and his role of delivering people from slavery. After Moses, Joshua, which means Jesus. Implying Jesus’ coming may be our next marker in history. Ruth’s vulnerability was poignant and raw and spoke of her fathers resemblance to our Lord. Ned’s humor was timely and refreshing. Then, Franklin. The most powerful words from his mouth, in my opinion, were these: if this were your funeral, would you be in heaven? If that statement didn’t make everyone think seriously about their eternal destiny, I’m not sure what would. If I weren’t already a believer, I would have been after considering that statement.

I thought everyone in the world had heard of Billy Graham but Mike mentioned at work that Billy Graham had passed away and his receptionist said, “Whose that?”  In all fairness, there are famous singing groups all over the world that I have never heard of because that type of  thing just isn’t on my radar.  I guess Billy Graham wasn’t on hers.

I never had the privilege of being at one of Billy Grahams crusades. My mom used to always watch them on TV, often suggesting that we listen in as well. If Billy Graham was on one channel and Hockey night in Canada was on the other, then she forewarned my dad that we would be watching Billy Graham. Because in those days we only had one TV and two channels. I can remember, at times, finding it quite boring in its simplicity.  Billy Graham was not a sensationalist.  And it’s true, he always had a Bible in his hand even if he wasn’t looking at it. The message was always the same. Jesus loves you and died for your sins and wants you to have eternal life. Would you like to give your heart to him tonight? Then ‘Just as I Am’  would be sung. Now, I want to give my heart to the Lord every time I hear that song.

Just as I am. That’s what it’s all about folks. As Billy’s daughter, Ruth, testified, Just as I am. We don’t have to pretty ourselves up for God. He loves us just as we are, warts and sins and selfishness and all. Billy Grahams message was simple. He didn’t bury it in a sea of theology. Anyone could understand it. Anyone could come. Anyone could believe. And millions did.

 

It’s been a snowy Friday day as well. I’ve actually not left the house today at all. It was glorious. It was snowing when I went to bed last night and it was snowing when I got up and it was snowing every time I looked out the window today. I reasoned that that was a good enough excuse to linger under the covers and lollygag for a bit. This might be my last Friday to stay at home and do nothing. I’ve signed up to do temp work so I never know where that will take me. I enjoyed the warmth and comfort of my bed until mother nature forced me out into the chilly tile floor. I gave thanks for this state of affairs.

Once I’d made my way down to the kitchen I turned on the fireplace and decided to finish up a painting I’d started. I actually do have oodles of chores and obligations to complete but why do today what you can do tomorrow? You might still figure out a way to get out of it. That’s not my usual modus operandi but consistency and predictability get boring. I gave thanks for having these options.

I don’t even know if it was cold today but it sure looked cold so I decided to warm myself up by soaking in a long hot sudsy bath, complete with candles and a cool beverage. Again I gave thanks for these blessed circumstances. As I was relaxing and sorting out my issues (aka talking out loud to God and explaining things to him, in case He didn’t already know) the live stream of Billy Grahams funeral came on my iPad which was sitting in the middle of the bathroom floor. So I watched that for two hours. (More on that later). I gave thanks for this mighty man of God.

Mike and I decided we would not go to a movie tonite since he’d had enough snow and cold just getting home for work. I made breakfast for dinner. I threw together a bunch of ingredients that resulted in a hash type of omelette. I think I’ll call it Snowy Friday Breakfast-for-Dinner Hash. It was perfect. We topped it with ketchup. Shhh. Ketchup IS the icing on the cake of eggs and hash browns. Can you blame us? I didn’t think the ketchup police would be out on such an evening. They were probably digging their vehicles out of a snow bank. I gave thanks for God’s provision.

Mike was thoroughly engaged in hockey and curling so I made my way down stairs to my studio to make decorations for an upcoming event and watched Billy Grahams funeral again. At about midnight I turned off the fireplace, shut off all the lights, made sure the doors were locked, took a picture of the backyard because it looked beautiful and proceeded to sit on my daughters bed and write this while she was in the shower. The scent of candles and fruity body wash filling the air as she showered in her adjoining powder room. I gave thanks that both of my adult children were sleeping under my roof tonite.

And that’s a snowy, cold day in the life of an unemployed, aspiring artist and writer, who loves the Lord and her family like Billy Graham did. Who loves to paint and write and cook and create and pray out loud when no one is home. And I gave thanks for all these blessings and more as I crawled into bed and snuggled up to my snoring warm husband. I really DO have it all.

 

Much like the increasingly popular TV show, this IS us. Can you watch an episode without crying? Or a range of other intense emotions rising up within? Probably not. Because This Is Us, is us. What they portray going through is so dangerously close to home. Almost everybody can relate to somebody on the show. This is a real family with real issues. Ok they’re not real but they are doing a darn good job of convincing us that they are. And those tribulations and dysfunctions… us! All of us. This show is a good dose of free therapy (unless your paying for a Shaw channel package to get the show). Still a pretty good deal.

Struggling with weight issues and careers. Failures and death of dreams. Death of loved ones and loss of fathers. Loss of homes. Foster parenting. Adoption. Race issues within the same family. Addictions. Cancer and homosexuality. Rebellion. Depression. Sibling rivalry. Step parents. Parenting, period. Wow. These are not crimes but such as is common to man. This type of drama helps us know we are not alone gives us strength to carry on. And that’s why millions of viewers tune in every week.

I think the reason we all get so emotional about each episode is because there is eventually some issue that you are going to be able to relate to more than you ever thought. You thought that wasn’t a problem for you. Or you were over that. Or you were above that. You’ve been living inside your head because you are convinced there is no way anybody has ever thought these things or felt this way before and you don’t want anyone to find out how weird you are. Wrongo!

I really appreciate the technique of the flashback. It reminds us that who we are today is rooted in what we experienced back then. We have been moulded, shaped and affected by our environment and relationships all along the way. No denying. I’m sure most of us walk away pondering many things in our hearts. And if your particular dysfunction hasn’t come up yet… keep watching.

We fall in love with these characters because they are so raw and real. They are us! I’m going to create a sequel called ‘We are them!’ And now we are more comfortable admitting that ‘this is us’. Just as we are. Raw and real. No pretenses. No phoniness. None of them set out to cause pain or to fail or to be vindictive or conniving. They were just trying to cope.

We don’t have it all together either. Not me, not my family. We deal with life as it happens. Oh sure, we try to be proactive as opposed to reactive but there are just some things that you could never have anticipated and that you just have to deal with as it happens. My childhood was great but not perfect and I’m sure how I react and cope with issues today, at 60, have much to do with the things that happened to me when I was young. I know we like to portray a rosie demeanor over social media but let’s face it, if anyone’s life looks perfect it’s a facade and if anyone claims perfection its a lie.

But it’s each of these trials, struggles, surprises, poignant moments and forged memories that make up a life. We live in the valleys, not on the mountain tops. Life can be difficult. It can be tough slogging at times. There are times when we have no answers. No reasonable solutions. There are times when we are on the top of our game and have our ducks in a row. And for a few short moments we can bask in sunshine on the top of the mountain until it all comes crashing down again, those ducks are prone to wander off. They don’t like being in a row longer than it takes to get a picture of them. Just enough proof that there are good times to keep us going through the bad.

This is me. A life full of gratitude and at times forgetting myself and complaining for a moment. A life full of wonderful memories but negativity often creeping in. A life full of amazing family and friends but also snippets of damaged relationship. A life overflowing with love most of the time but tiny leaks of resentment and selfishness making their way through. A life marked with much success and fulfillment but overshadowed at times by failure and self reproach. This is me. This is life. This is us.

 

Driving to the other side of the city for a temporary job these past two days has been refreshingly eye opening. I’ve been chiding myself for so long that I’ll never be able to get back in the routine of working again. The impending reality of joining the workforce once again has loomed ominous. But my drive these past two days, in the welcome sunshine, has yielded glorious views of the Rocky mountains covered in snow. Sharp, etched and looking close enough to touch. Against the blue, blue sky, it took my breath away and caused me to send heavenward, praise to the creator. I thoroughly enjoyed the drive. Good thing because it took almost an hour. And to my surprise, I thoroughly enjoyed being in a office environment once again. Being useful and having a purpose and somewhere to go. Being with people.  A reminder that the world is bigger than me. Its so easy to have your world close in on you, when you spend so much time alone and are concerned about the future of ….well…everything. Your world and mindset get very small. Its almost suffocating. I felt like I’d just breathed the largest, freshest breath of air I have in a very long time.

This morning I was a little flummoxed when I descended to the kitchen to find it cluttered with dirty dishes, far too many appliances on the counter and several half drank Starbucks cups (guilty of at least one). My washing system was upset in the laundry room as my things were tossed…wherever, so someone could make room for theirs. There was recycling lined up on the inside counter. So I tossed the recycling over the edge of the banister into the recycle bin and heard it crash on the garage floor. My husband had already moved the bin outside. I couldn’t find the banking information required to get me set up with my new temp position. I folded the laundry and cleared the cupboard (organizing the dirty dishes in the sink so they wouldn’t look so frightening when I returned home), because I had time for that, and I drove off, later than planned. I decided I wanted…no, needed, my favorite drink from Starbucks. I was nearly inside the coffee shop when I realized I had forgotten my phone at home. (I pay for Starbucks with my iPhone app). So back we go, I parked on the driveway and ran into the house to fetch my phone and when I came out the garbage truck was blocking my driveway and I couldn’t leave. I felt frustration and anger starting to simmer and started muttering to myself. A lot of good that will do. Finally, I drove back to our local Starbucks and went in to get my drink. The young female barista looked at me and said “you’re killin it this morning! Love your whole outfit. You look great!” I hate to say I live for the praise of others and I truly endeavor not to, but I’m not going to lie, that comment really helped my mood. I drove off with my soy (yes I still drink soy in my chai), extra hot, 3 pump chai latte and all of a sudden all was right with the world. Shallow, yes. Fickle, maybe. And then I got to thinking about something we talked about in our home group last night. About how the Lord protects us. Sometimes He just makes sure we are not in the wrong place at the wrong time. Going back to get my phone may have prevented some disaster for me. I’ll never know. But that was good enough for me. I felt blessed all of a sudden.

The drive to Royal Oak from Bridlewood seemed much more pleasant this morning. Maybe because I knew where I was going and I had left earlier missing all the school traffic and all the little crosswalk pedestrians. I walked into the office already feeling like it was home…even though I only had another half day of work to do. But yes, I was into this. I could do this. I enjoyed the routine. The sun was shining as I folded my last project drawing and I left the engineering company at 1:00. Such a lovely day as I drove home down the freeway. I decided to drop in on a friend at work since I was free as a lark for the rest of the afternoon and the shop she worked at was just there. It was so decadent to wander through the gorgeous garment shop touching things, looking at things, visiting with my friend. And once again, gleaning a round of compliments on my funky glasses. Just confirming I was not the washed up, stodgy, old, useless bag that I had been categorizing myself as lately. They said my glasses were the choice of someone creative. They could tell I was creative. Who knew?

As I left the shop, my friend suggested I stop at a quaint, bedding store down the street, ensuring me I would love it. Love it I did. My first whiff of the scent in the air was transcendent and the novelties in the shop were heavenly. Unlike myself, I entered into a lengthy and revealing chat with the shop keeper. She actually knew of me and my daughter (from my friend down the street) and that got things rolling. After a wonderful repartee with her – she was charming – I skipped back to my car like a school girl. As I settled into the drivers seat I noticed a phone message on my cell phone and thought I would listen to it before driving away.   It was the gal from the placement agency I called on Monday (and two weeks ago). I was pretty sure they were not planning on calling me back and I told everyone who cared (and maybe a few who didn’t) that if I didn’t hear from that agency by end of day today I would move on to a different agency. Her voice was cheerful and pleasant as she suggested I call her back tomorrow morning.

I loved the area of town I was in so I drove around some of the streets taking in the beautiful homes, beautiful victorians and brownstones. My kids used to attend school in this neighborhood but my youngest graduated ten years ago and the area has developed so much since then. Towering trees and no more construction detours. The homes looking well loved and worn in. This also added to my frivolous mood.

I arrived home, just feeling blessed to be alive. As I changed into my painting smock to begin my next work of art….it dawned on me that this was, indeed, a beautiful life. Yes, there are many ugly and repugnant things transpiring across the globe but for right now, right here, for this moment in time, I saw the beauty and took it in. Compared to the winter my soul has been journeying through lately,  I was reminded, that when God shines his glorious light on anything, the world is a different place.

 

 

 

Why am I sitting here watching Olympic figure skating with tears rolling down my cheeks? I don’t even know these people. But the beauty, grace and skill that they exhibit touches the heart like a tropical sunset or the majestic Rocky mountains or the multi-hued blue waving ocean. The skaters make this dance look so easy, so graceful, so fluid. Yet you know deep down in your heart that these aren’t just skaters, they are athletes that have trained with every ounce of valor, courage, perseverance. passion and discipline they could squeeze out of their human selves to attain this level of athletic inspiration and perfection. You can almost see their souls and they are beautiful.

What is it about the Olympics that touches our hearts so? As I watch the inspirational commercials over and over – commercials put together with brilliance just for these games – of how many of these athletes have overcome affliction, injuries, near death, death of loved ones, bullying, broken relationships, financial constraints – such as is common to mankind and yet they pressed on to get to the Olympics.

This well known quote from Paul comes to mind…. ‘Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete should use self control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself my be disqualified” 1 Cor. 9:24-27.

The athletes in these Olympics and their stories make us believe in the strength and resilience of the human spirit. These athletes (ordinary people) serve to remind us of what we can do. We have mostly been born with the same physiological make up. Some have handicaps that will never allow them to compete and excel in the physical realm. But most of us that have been blessed with the complete package have the basic ingredients to achieve our best. What stops us? Our best may not be Olympic level but that’s OK. These are just ordinary people that have pressed themselves to do their best. The Olympics are not for cowards that’s for sure or people with a victim mentality. They are for people with a hope and a future. People that dare to believe they could be better and that they could attain something higher. These people (mostly very young) are not sitting a home feeling sorry for themselves and giving up on life. They have seen an ounce of skill in themselves and a love for what they are doing and have determined to make themselves the best they can be. Everyone laughs at the athlete that says “I’m just so grateful to even get to the Olympics – it doesn’t even matter if I win a medal”. Seriously, I am with them. Because yes they did have to reach a certain, unattainable level for most of us, just to get in the door and that in itself is, indeed, a victory. No lie.

I’m 60 and there is no way in heaven or hell that I will ever be in the Olympics….certainly not the athletic Olympics. Maybe if they invented a cooking, baking, decorating, event planning Olympics, I could compete. And yet, as I watch these young athletes I have to wonder why I am finding it so difficult to get my derriere off the couch and out on the street for a healthy dose of walking, or to the basement for an inspirational session of yoga, or even lift a few weights that line the walls of my studio. (They are not just there for stubbing my toes on, are they?) It’s not for lack of time or equipment or environment. Why don’t I eat the food that I know is medicine for my body and why do I eat the poison? Why am I not responding to every single posting for every single position that I even remotely qualify for and letting God do the rest? I’m disqualifying myself before I even get started. Why have the cleaning supplies been sitting in my bathtub for three weeks and yet no rag or cleaning solution has made contact with any porcelain surfaces yet? However, I am OCD enough not to leave the house without making my bed. What’s that all about? I have victimized myself and then I watch the Olympics and am reminded that I can do ALL things through Christ who gives me strength. Instead I believe the lie that I can’t…why? Because its easier?? It’s certainly not inspirational or motivating or satisfying or fulfilling or victorious. I want to train as an athlete to live the victorious life. I want this to be my mantra. “Not that I have already attained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own….But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goad for the prize of the upward call of Jesus.”

Hebrews 12:1-1 says it aptly, ‘Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles (and the self pity) and let us run with perseverance, the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.

And I well know that they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up on wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk (and do yoga) and not faint. Isaiah 40:31

How about these nuggets of wisdom?

2 Timothy 2:5 An athlete is not crowned unless he competes according to the rules.
Hebrews 12:11 For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

Galations 5:7 You were running a good race. Who cut in on you to keep you from obeying the truth?

2 Timothy 4:7 I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

I think we see, in the Olympics, spiritual disciplines and principles at work and that is why we are so fascinated and inspired by them. Many of these athletes, without even realizing it, have dug deep and grasped hold of these spiritual truths and applied them to their discipline (sport) and THAT is the thing that is inspiring us. That is the thing that is touching our hearts. That is the thing that makes us cheer them on. We all have a void inside that can only be filled with God and His truth and that void is soaking up all of this amazing inspiration and example and storing it in our hearts, reminding us that we, too, can do ALL things through Christ. We can. Will we?

Let not just get inspired. Lets go to action. Let’s run the race marked out for us and get the gold (eternity with HIM).

For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come. I Timothy 4:8